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#family dinner 1: hell
flowerflamestars · 1 year
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Course Correct snippet
Tie yanked off his neck, folded careful enough to hide in an inner pocket without making a bump, Eris unbuttoned his collar and met her eyes in the mirror.   “Cunts across the water here yet?”   Nesta just lifted the glass of fruity, terrible wine to her lips. White for a garden party, Morrigan had purred, insisted, when Nesta tried to dodge. A perfumed headache in a glass.   Eris ran a hand through his already perfect hair, tousling the deep red. “We playing beard, Archeron?”   “No.” A slink across the room, a mean face that made Nesta despite herself, breathe. “Feyre wants a balanced table.”   “She learn that from Downton Abbey?”
“Be nice.”   He slipped the wine glass out of her hand instead, waving it beneath his nose with a moue of distaste. “Christ. Why do rich people spend so much money on fucking trash?”   “Taste?” Nesta offered, leaning back into the coolness of the wall. Marble, in place in exactly one location of this echoing, empty house: pretty, skylight studded bathrooms. Bone white nightmares, but at least they weren’t pretending to be comfortable or cozy.   Without bothering to check if she actually meant to drink it- he knew better- Eris poured what was probably an obscene value of white into the grey moss of a planter. Careless of  anemic looking ferns, lush orchids blooming colorlessly upward. Flipped the glass in his hand to dangle by the stem, hip propped against the slab that made the sink.   “How bad?”   Nesta shrugged. “She’s been tablescapping for two days. Freesia and bowls of oranges everywhere. Three cakes. Three different bakeries.”   Eris shook his head. “They’re going to eat her alive.”   A rainbow romper, flowers in her hair. Feyre was overflowing with enthusiasm. Brightness. Just because Rhys was following her around like an ink-dipped puppy didn’t mean the Lord Devlin was going to be equally charmed.   “What do you know?”   His thin mouth tipped, ever-present sharp expression rendered scathing. “Bunch of posh fucks who held onto their ancestral wealth and think they’re special for centuries of inbreeding. What do you know, Archeron?”   Nesta rolled her eyes. Smiled, unwilling. Pressed her shoulders to grounding stone one last time before straightening. “That you have an in with Nox.”   “Right, because I’d be working for my father’s firm if I had an in with”-   “Eris.”   He sighed. Crossed his arms. Light-catching brown eyes and unreal hair, he looked about as out of place as Nesta already felt, buried under this whole pale mausoleum.   “They don’t like Rhys.” A shrug, one thin shoulder rising. “Typical fucking racism. But they like money. That’s all I’ve got, unless you’d like to hear about the quality of cock Rhysand’s lawyer is walking around with.”
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ghastbutlikegay · 1 month
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ouhhh the time loop......
#so i still live with my family#both parents work full time#and have to leave before the youngest two kids get on the bus#so i get up in the morning to make sure they finish breakfast put on shoes remember backpacks etc and get on the bus#and then i also wait at the bus stop for the 8 year old to get home in the afternoon#and then sit with him til our parents are home#and all this is totally cool! my siblings are super chill!#except getting up at 7am every day feels like actual torture#especially because half the time im way too tired to do anything and go back to sleep til like 2:30#at which point i inhale a granola bar or cereal and wait around til my brother's bus comes#and THEN i do nothing until dinner (shoutout to my mom for all the banger meals)#AND THEN. i do nothing until i realize ive been doing nothing and then finally go to bed at like 1:30am#because i need sleep but i wont get ENOUGH sleep. so when i get up at 7am i will be exhausted#and go right back to bed once my siblings are off to school.#and that is why it's the timeloop#ive barely been able to do anything creative for the past week because of it#i probably feel extra messed up because my older brother and my niece stayed over last night#meaning my morning was unnecessarily chaotic as my niece is. 7?#so i was kinda overwhelmed#idk maybe tomorrow ill try to actually do something to break the time loop#maybe ill make my coffee different. ill use a scoop of ice cream and caramel syrup instead of cream and sugar#im procrastinating going to bed if you couldnt tell. ive been sitting here writing tags for 15 minutes#suggestions for how to make it feel less like im trapped in a time loop are welcome#dont suggest talking to friends. i have one friend and they are also in timeloop hell
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awrkive · 3 months
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NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 1 — JJK
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in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.
PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader
GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, (eventual) smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.2k
CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3 mature language, this chapter's pretty tame (for now) but theres a lot of FLIRTING, if u squint this story is a mosaic of every shows i love lmfao, for the apartment complex just imagine the namil villa from the kdrama fight for my way NB!JK VISUALS
NOTES hello im back!!!!! remember the jk in tech xmas fic i told you about last year? this is it except its not a xmas fic anymore lmfao. had an idea to make it a full blown story and im just sooo excited to share it with u guys on this platform!!!!! if ur from wattpad, the chapter system is gonna be a little different here but the content is not <3 anyway let me know what u guys think!
READ ON WATTPAD | AO3
PART ONE | TWO
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You never settled your relationship with the summer season. To put it simply, it was a love and hate sort of thing; you liked that it was dry, and the air always felt like it was filtered and healthy even though you were well-aware of the current shit-state of the Earth's ozone layer. There were beams and sunlights and street vendors and people lying on the park's ground. Summer felt nostalgic, like the first time you bought a vinyl in highschool and listened to Fleetwood Mac in secret because your mom was certain they peddled cocaine and all sorts of illegal drugs, and with a highschool friend you no longer talk to, not because of a friendship-breaking betrayal but something more melancholic than that like drifting apart as you got older — the ambience, generally, was what you loved the most about it.
But regardless of those, summer got hot. Sure, you could forgo layers of clothing and it was always nice to lounge about in short bottoms and strapless tops and sandals, but at the end of the day, you needed to set your AC on the lowest temp, and it cranks up your monthly rent a greater percentage which causes a detrimental result to your monthly pay. (And you always had to reapply make-up every now and then whenever you went outside because if not, you'd be a sweating mess.)
In the grand scheme of things, though, there was nothing more than you disliked than Park Jimin, your best friend since college, asking you to be his plus-one on his mom's birthday dinner. For the second time.
“I told you, Jimin, I’m not doing that anymore. Your mom called me fat and recommended a bunch of expensive skin care products to treat one single zit on the side of my forehead the last time you brought me there. I hid that with my bangs and she still saw it, like what the hell? The baked lasagna might have tasted good but I’m not stepping one foot in your house ever again.” You spat out, rolling your eyes at your friend who just dramatically flopped himself on your bed.
“Okay, so I’m really sorry about my mom. She’s a…” He trailed off, looking at you with meaningful eyes that weighed words you knew he couldn't exactly say without feeling bad, and you sighed. Nodded in understanding. Jimin’s face contorted into a cringed expression at that. “... yeah. But! Please. I swear! This is the last time. I just really need you to be there. They’re setting me up with Heesu, okay? You know that snotty nepo baby of the Kang clan who owns Kang Tech?”
“Jimin, you’re a nepo baby.”
He hit you with a pillow. “I am but I can earn a hundred thousand won without my family’s money. They can cut my credit cards and I'll still be thriving.”
You broke the serious demeanor and laughed loudly at his seemingly confident claim.
“I’m sorry but you could not even get a job at a burger joint without some nepotism let alone have a hundred thousand without your dad’s credit cards. Bitch, you’re just lying.”
“Fuck you. I was employee of the week at Seventh Street Burger.” He backfired, referring to that point in time in your sophomore year where you picked up a part time job during the summer at a burger joint and Jimin just decided to come along randomly. He got it because the owner knew of his dad.
“Yeah, because Sowon had a crush on you?” You said, remembering the owner’s daughter, who was also helping out at the store at that time. She was so smitten by Jimin you almost felt bad for her.
“Okay, fair, point taken. No need to be such a bitch about it,” Your best friend said with a dismissive wave of his hand, telling he was over it. You only laughed at that, boisterously, might you add, just to piss him off for no reason. Jimin deadpanned. “But seriously. I think they’re planning to marry me off to Heesu.”
Your face fell out of genuine concern this time.
“Oh my god, really?”
Jimin once again cringed visibly. “Yeah. I mean from a business lense it makes sense. But me marrying at 33? That makes me – like – a child groom.”
“Oh… yeah…” you trailed off, sympathizing with him. Not that you've ever been in the situation where your parents forced you in a sham marriage for their own wealth because there was no wealth to begin with. But you felt bad for Jimin. You always have, when it came to this particular subject.
You knew how it was with rich people, having known Jimin for almost half your life. It was true that arranged marriages were still a thing, and while Jimin seemed that he could pretty much do everything he wanted because of his free-spirited nature, his parents could still most likely make him marry someone he barely knew. Solely for business.
“Ugh.” Jimin groaned. “Should I just come out at the dinner so they can stop linking me to women? I’m gay as fuck, man. My cousin Park Youngdam would have a field day given that homophobic fucktard has been calling me the f word ever since he learned it in seventh grade.”
You shook your head, visibly cringing at his words. You didn't have family yourself. It was your mom who raised you alone for all your life, until she died five years ago. Didn't know any extended family. But frankly, you thought it was better that way than to deal with a complicated family like Jimin's.
“Nah. I mean if you’re ready, well, do it. But like, your parents are…” You two shared a look together again, and Jimin just slapped his palms over his face, indicating his doom. Your face twisted with another shot of deeper sympathy for him.
“This is it for me. They’ll marry me off to Kang Heesu and we’ll fly to the US and live in Massachusetts to fulfill her white picket fence fantasy. I’ll be a miserable husband and she'll be an even more miserable wife because she’ll eventually find out I’m gay. The neighbors will start talking and the white republicans will shun me out of the town church. We’ll have a surrogate baby and—”
“Jimin, what the fuck!” You hit him hard on his arm as you couldn't keep a straight face anymore at his dramatic monologue. “You’re not gonna marry Heesu and you won't live in fuckass Massachusetts and no one’s gonna shun you out of the town church and you won't have a surrogate baby.”
“It’s a possibility.” Jimin shrugged.
“I feel like you're guilt-tripping me into agreeing to be your date again at your mom's birthday dinner and I think that's very evil of you.” You said, squinting your eyes at him.
“Well, duh? But also, I’m really kind of lowkey highkey scared they’ll marry me off to someone now that I’m pushing forty.”
"You're quite literally seven years away from forty." You countered.
He looked at you with an expression of I know right! And he told you so.
"That's what I said to mom and dad, but they're acting like my sperm will freeze next year. God, I can't stand them!" 
Jimin, for all his jokes and unserious and bitchy behavior, was someone extremely important to you. Yeah, sure, he was rich as hell and he annoys you when he says something that reeks of too much nepotism but he was never intentionally snotty, never thinks he was better than everyone else (Jokes about how he thinks he has the fattest and juiciest ass in the world, though), and he wasn't at all like the rich people you've had the misfortune of interacting with at his mom's birthday party last year. He might be a self-proclaimed bitch but if you put him together with those people, he might as well be one of God's disciples.
For all his crass language and rather strong personality, Jimin was a doting friend who was there for you every single time. You could call him up at 3 am and he’d be at your door bringing Chinese take out and two tubs of ice cream, ready to hear you vent about your stupid job or a guy that you fumbled by being weird and off-putting because you didn't know how to handle a relationship. He was the kind of friend who would defend you in front of anyone else but will mercilessly tell you off and list down all points of your stupidity once you were in closed doors. He was the kind of friend that would ask you to be his pretend partner at a birthday dinner party, but he was your best friend ultimately and even if you had a big problem with his family and their extremely traditional (read: toxic) ways, you didn't want him to be pressured into coming out just so he could avoid to be engaged off to another random heiress. Didn't want him to do something he wasn't ready for. Didn't want him hurt or anything of the sort.
The last dinner wasn't even that bad, if you were to be honest. His parents were shitty, yeah sure, and the other guys in there that consisted of politicians and businessmen and people in the showbiz industry were something taken out of the toilet bowl for how stinky their elitist, better-than-you personalities were, but you both just totally forgot all about it by getting wasted at the local bar right after leaving. Not that his mom’s words didn't sting a bit or didn't make you a little conscious, but at the end of the day, you weren't actually dating Jimin so you didn't care what his parents thought of you.
Additionally, you didn't have something planned for the next two weeks when the birthday would be happening. You were supposed to, but that ship has long sailed when you fumbled a date with the guy at the IT department. For the record, you didn't really like him that much and he talked too much about his job and while you didn't mind that, it was getting a little too tiring. If you wanted IT lessons you would’ve majored in it in college. Still, Shin Taemu was handsome. And he wore those rounded glasses. Was tall. Had nice arms. Too bad he wanted to be the next Mark Zuckerberg. Fuck that guy.
“Ugh, I don't know,” you groaned. “It's just so disgusting to be your girlfriend, okay?”
Jimin audibly gasped. “How dare you? A lot would jump on this ass.” He said with incredulity seeping through his voice, pointing to his bum.
You rolled your eyes. “Not me, obviously. Before you take offense—”
“Offense taken.”
“—it’s just that you're like my cousin and when you call me honey I want to crawl out of my own skin.”
Jimin laughed at that while you looked miserable, remembering those moments from last year. Seriously, how could you have fooled anyone in that party that you were banging? You swore you looked like Ariana Grande and Troye Sivan in that one music video? (Jimin was the one who showed that meme to you, by the way.)
“So I won't call you honey. Just babe.”
“Ew.” You quickly retaliated.
“Ohh, the homophobia is sho-wing.” Jimin sing-sang, ever the mature individual he was.
“Fuck off, seriously.”
Jimin just giggled and then scooted closer to you. “No but like, are you coming? ‘Cause jokes aside, I'm just gonna find someone else if you really don't wanna do it. But you know you're always my first choice.”
“First choice when you do some stupid shit.” you countered, rolling your eyes for the nth time that night. Jimin would be the cause of your eye surgery if ever they got dislocated or something.
“That’s my biggest act of love.”
“I don't want it.”
“I’ll double what I paid you last year.”
“Double it again and give it to the next person?”
Jimin flipped you off. “I’ll give you my nintendo and I’ll get you a card at that coffee shop you love so much.”
That caught your attention. You raised your brow. “On god?”
“When did I ever lie to you?”
You deadpanned. “We won't finish this conversation if I list all the times—”
“Okay, okay, point taken. But I'm really serious. Please, please, please, please be my pretend girlfriend on my mom's birthday party please, please—”
“Shut up. Ugh,” you could already feel the big smile creeping up Jimin’s face when you let out a big sigh. “Okay, I’ll do it. Buy me boba now.”
Jimin tackled you to the bed and hugged you and kissed your forehead.
“Thank you! Best best friend ever.” he delightfully said, grinning widely, eyes almost disappearing in his triumph.
Your face contorted into a disgusted expression while Jimin just laughed as you pushed him so hard he almost fell off the bed.
“You are a disgusting limpy sack of dicks! Also, I’m not your best best friend, you don't have a wide selection. I'm your best friend. Period.”
“Unfortunately.” He waved you off and when you were about to retort something his phone suddenly rang. You watched quietly as he put it over his ear. “Hey, you just landed?”
If it was a private conversation Jimin would've left the room but since he didn't, you decided to stay in bed, kind of listening in to the conversation, but also not, as you turned the volume down of the show you were watching earlier on your laptop.
“Nah, you want me to pick you up?” Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. “Sure, I’m free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?” He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. “Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?”
It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, “Well, my cousin’s apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on.”
“Is that one of the non-problematic twenty percent cousin lineage of your very complicated family tree?" You asked, referring to him telling you one time that his family, including the extended ones, was eighty percent shitty and twenty percent decent.
Jimin chuckled at the inside joke. "Well, yeah, he's one of the good ones. Knows I'm gay."
"Oh, nice."
Jimin stood up from your bed. “I’ll get you your boba and head off. Gotta pick cousin up or he’ll start throwing tantrums at the airport.”
“Add extra pearls please.” You told him, watching as he clicked away on his phone to get you your drink.
“I spoil you too much.” Jimin said, clicking his tongue, eyes still on his phone.
“What are you here for if not my glorified sugar daddy?”
“I will kill myself in front of you.” Jimin deadpanned, getting a chuckle out of you.
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You didn't know the psychology — or if there even was psychology — behind feeling embarrassed when you were about to cross a path while carrying huge boxes. It was a normal task, and yet, it always felt like a huge walk of shame when you did it.
It was probably because you had to carry it over a flight of stairs, and there was no way you wouldn't trip on yourself carrying two heavy boxes in your hands that were already disrupting your vision.
Maybe it was your fault for choosing the pick-up option when you were checking out these furniture online, all because there was a huge increase on the fee for door-to-door delivery. For the record, there was a huge gap and the boxes were not really that heavy to the point you could not carry them both. It's just a lamp and a portable desk, you thought a week ago when you opted for the pick-up option, I could carry it all the way to the unit just fine — and obviously, your delusion has resulted to this very moment.
As soon as you managed to walk over five steps, you felt as if your oxygen supply just got cut back, panting like someone fresh from a marathon. Damn. You definitely needed to work out a little. Maybe do some squats for your New Year’s resolution, commit to it for three days straight then forget about it for the next 362 days of the year.
You looked ahead of you and a string of curses let themselves out of your mouth automatically as you estimated the number of stairs you needed to get through to get to your apartment.
This day sucked! It was Sunday and you planned to wake up at five am to have a productive day but then you slept through your five alarms and woke up at eleven am instead. You ran out of eggs and you had to go to the convenience store to eat a sad meal of yogurt and kimbap. And now there were these boxes that you needed to carry over what seemed to look like six million of stairs. You weren't Sisyphus! And where were your goddamn neighbors when you needed them?
"You need help, ma'am?"
"Jesus Christ—" you turned to look to your right only to see a man who seemed to own the previous voice.
And Jesus Christ, indeed.
He was wearing a white shirt and some shorts, Nike sliders on his feet and a pair of headphones on. He was wearing glasses. And he had a tattoo sleeve.
What the fuck.
What the fuck!
It has been so long since you thought a man was crazily attractive. Okay, well sure, the guys from the IT department were something else (or you just had a weird eyeglasses fetish, Jimin once pointed out, that you still — to this day — vehemently try to deny) but you’ve never been this taken aback by someone’s face before.
The guy’s lips tilted a bit, some sort of greeting maybe, and you quickly looked away, embarrassed, fearing that he caught you looking at him longer than necessary.
Oh god. This was pathetic! He was a stranger! He was a man! He just had a cute face attached to a very good body with an arm full of tattoos and he was tall but you were sure he wasn’t six feet two. Also, he had hair that looked fluffy from where you stood and a pair of eyeglasses but Jimin was just bluffing when he said you had a fetish for them. Right?
You were performing mental gymnastics until you realized he was asking a question.
"Oh! Uh, no, thank you. It's fine." You said, embarrassed at the way you almost jumped in surprise earlier.
But the whole thing was ridiculous. What, because there was a very fine man across from you the universe suddenly decided to fuck up your fate by making you be seen by that very man struggling with boxes all the way up to your unit? Couldn't it just have been on a day when you did your make-up and dressed up in that overpriced dress you bought hundred bad choices ago?
You fumbled with the boxes a little bit before continuing your way up, nevermind the guy whose response you didn't wait for because you needed to get the fuck away from him before you say something weird and off-putting.
Truthfully, you could use the help. But at what cost? A fine man carrying them? Okay, that wasn’t so bad. But what were you supposed to do with... all of that?
As if the universe was indeed trying to prove to you that you were, in fact, not its favorite creation, you almost tripped. And the guy most definitely saw it.
Fuck.
You turned to the side to see him looking at you, concern etching his face. You wanted to convince yourself that it was genuine concern because you'd commit something that would totally change the trajectory of his life if he was to laugh.
But you thought his own unit must be way up as well, as he was going to the same path as you, and if that was the case, he must have been a new neighbor in the complex because you've never seen the man before.
“Well, it’s not that heavy but…” you trailed off, looking blankly at the cardboard boxes. And then at him. "I could use some help, if you don't mind."
The guy just chuckled. Oh wow, his laugh was very... low.
You didn’t even know what the fuck that meant.
“I’ll get them for you.” He said, crossing the small distance between you and taking over the pile, leaving you with nothing in your hands.
“Oh, no, I’ll have that one. It’s fine.” You said, stepping closer to take the other one but he was already securing it in his hold, with stability this time, ready to take off.
He let out a small laugh again and you bit your tongue to not think about how cute he looked. If he was a new tenant, you hoped you didn't cross paths with him ever again.
"It's okay, ma'am."
He's got to stop calling you that before you do something drastic.
“It’s quite far from here, I'm all the way up to three-three-six.” You uttered, pointing forward, a few steps behind the guy, who hummed at what you said.
You quickly caught up to him. "Really, thanks for doing this."
"No problem, it's nothing." He said, smiling at you. Warm and kind. All cute. "I'm all the way up to four-four-six as well."
Your eyes widened. "No way, that's just across mine."
The stranger, apparently your neighbor now, grinned.
"Nice coincidence, huh?"
A sheepish smile formed on your lips. You didn't dwell on that comment too much. Knew it was just small talk.
"If you don't mind me asking, are you a new tenant here?” You asked out of genuine curiosity. You had never seen someone come out of the unit across from you out of all the four years you'd been here.
He nodded, agreeing with what you presumed.
"Yeah. Just temporary, though.”
“Oh…” A surprised sound. Maybe it was a good thing he was only staying temporarily... “I hope I didn’t inconvenience you or anything. You really don’t need to bring the boxes over to my apartment.”
The man just chuckled, dismissing your worry. “You looked like you could use a hand, these boxes are big. Anyway, I was just out checking 'round town. Settling in.”
From the sound of it, you'd assume he was not only moving in in a new apartment complex, but new city as well. Perhaps country? But he most definitely looked Korean. But maybe he came from abroad. Who knows.
“Yeah, there's a really nice coffee shop three blocks away. You should check it out sometime. Ji—my friend and I are obsessed with their iced caramel macchiato. And the boba.”
His brows furrowed in pure interest. “That must've been the one I passed by this morning. I’ll make sure to try that one.”
“You really should. And the barista gives you a brownie on Sundays if he likes you.” You shared like it was gossip, mentally taking note to visit the cafe sometime this week.
“And I'm sure not everybody gets the privilege?” The guy looked at you funny, and that made you laugh.
"Of course, yes! You have to earn it, I think. I feel like I spent over a million there before he started giving me brownies."
"Hope my charm works on him as well," he said, and it caught you off guard.
What did he mean, "as well"? Like he was speaking from the basis that you had charm and so he hoped he had it as well to get the barista to like him?
"Well. He's strict." Was all you could say, before you spotted your apartment. "Hey, I'll take it over from here."
The guy looked over the plated number on the door, reading three-three-six just as you said earlier. Trudging forward, he set the boxes down on the side of the porch.
"Thank you, really. This was really nice of you."
You extended your gratitude once again as if you didn't spend the walk up to here thanking him non-stop, sounding like a broken record. Thank god the guy didn't seem to mind your over-the-top gratitude, only waving his hand.
"Told you, it's fine. You need help with a few boxes again and just ring me up across," He joked, turning around slightly and looking at the door across your unit, Unit 446. It earned a chuckle from you. His face turned serious now, but there was still a charming smile on his face. “Hey. I’m actually pretty new in this town. I was thinking about visiting a few restaurants downtown, maybe you could recommend me some?”
You didn't mean to, but you took note the way his doe eyes seemed to shimmer even behind the frame of his glasses.
“My favorites are just, like, a ten-minute walk away. There’s this restobar near that drugstore when you turn left from this building, right?” The guy nodded, and you were slightly delighted he knew right away. “Yeah, their ramen's great, you'd thank me forever.”
He chuckled at the way you said it and you smiled.
Your interactions with new people were always a range from pure silence to oversharing; talking to them like they were your long lost friend whom you’ve milked goats with in your father’s orchard. It was probably just a product of introversion; not knowing the right approach to socializing.
“Thanks for the recommendation.” He said, a genuine appreciative tone lacing his words.
“You’re welcome. If I can ring you up to help me with some boxes, you can ring me up for some restaurant recommendation.”
"It's an exchange, then. Deal."
"Why not?" You shrugged, laughing along with him when he did so.
You both stood there for a while until seconds passed. You didn’t know exactly how to end the conversation, not that you wanted to, but there was nothing that went to your head to talk about more. And besides, he was probably headed somewhere, so you began to speak.
“Hey, so I’m going in—”
“What about we—”
“Oh.” You stopped. “Sorry, what was that?”
The guy just shook his head. “Nah, you’re probably busy. Thanks for the recommendation again.”
“No, seriously, sorry I didn't hear it the first time...”
“I was just gonna ask about the name of the restaurant.”
“It’s Midday Miso.” You told him, smiling.
“Midday Miso,” The guy nodded, “Yeah. Got it. Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome, and, uh, thanks. For the help.”
You took your keys out from your shorts and you didn’t expect to still see him standing in front of you when you turned around. You jokingly squinted your eyes at him.
“Yeah, you first, get in.” He said with a low chuckle.
It was a little embarrassing and pretty stupid how your heart fluttered a bit at that.
“What a gentleman you are,” You respond with a snort, opening the door to your unit and pushing the boxes inside your apartment. When they were in, you turned to look at the guy again, saying, “Okay, bye for real. See you around. Hope you like Midday Miso if you try it. And the coffee shop. It's called Brown Coffee.”
“See you around.” He did a little wave that made you both laugh before you closed the door.
When the lock system clicked, you stood on your doorway for a little while.
And then fake-cried.
You quickly clicked on Jimin's pinned contact on your phone.
You [5:35pm]: JIMINNNNNNNNN You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY BITCH IF U DONT RESPOND You [5:36pm]: I HAVE A DIABOLICAL CRUSH AND ITS GOING IN THE MEMOIRRRRRR
It wasn’t even one full minute when Jimin replied.
cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: oh my god SHUT UP!!! im at a training program for ghis stupid ass company my fathers been running fir 600 years cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: whats up cuntress #1 [5:38pm]: its always a crush and never a job 😒
You [5:39pm]: yeh so remember when i told u im oacking up my vagina last summer
cuntress #1 [5:39pm]: many such times
You [5:40pm]: 🖕 You [5:40pm]: SO raincheck!!! You [5:41pm]: COZ I just met a fine man at my apartment AND flirted with him You [5:41pm]: i think
cuntress #1 [5:42pm]: ohhhhh OK???? cuntress #1 [5:43pm]: cuntress #2 flirting???? now thats not uninteresting go on while i fake a restroom break 👀
You [5:45pm]: this story is not for the imessages baby get ur ass up and ICE CREAM WITH ME NOW.
cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: omg 😭😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: i’ll be off 7:30pm wait for me 😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:47pm]: i also have #stories to tell
You [5:49pm]: 🤭
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There must be a time where you finally grow up and learn to cook.
You were a twenty-eight-year-old woman and yet, your meals sadly ranged from instant noodles, canned goods, and food from the nearby twenty-four-hour provision shop. Sometimes, you had the gall to cook something from scratch—but with scratch you meant scratching off the labels from food take-outs and reheating them in your microwave.
Jimin had told you one time you would die at twenty-nine with your lifestyle. You told him he couldn't tell you shit because he didn't know how to cook either, he just worked out and ate healthy stuff, and you did, too! But Jimin knew you, and in an evil manner, clocked you with, "Buying fresh produce and not consuming them does not count as healthy living."
Anyway, you never understood why you were so bad at cooking. Your mother, as you remembered her, was decent at it but you guessed it was because she never really taught you and you never really bothered, either. In some immature way of thinking, you'd like to think it was a win for feminism as you were battling patriarchal standards by not conforming to stereotypical "female" qualities. But deep inside, you knew cooking should be a survival skill.
Well, maybe Jimin was right and you would indeed die at the ripe age of twenty-nine. On the bright side, at least you wouldn't have to pay off your student loans and your monthly rent.
In relation, not knowing how to cook meant impractical visits to the restaurant, and that was how you ended up at Midday Miso for dinner after your shift.
It was only a little over seven pm when you entered the restaurant, the ahjumma quickly greeting you and preparing your usual, a sign of familiarity that implied your countless visits ever since moving in at your current apartment building.
Regular visits meant usual sitting spot, and in your case, it was the high stools that faced the glass walls of the restaurant's facade where you could see the busy street making that little area of the town alive.
As minutes overlapped with one another, your food was served and you were hit with the waft of the restaurant's delightful signature beef ramen and bibimbap that the ahjumma made sure to add extra beef on.
Eating with a happy heart made you feel like nothing in the world mattered but you and the food before you, so, you didn't pay attention to the person who was coming to your direction and eventually sat beside you, but what caught you off guard was when said person suddenly said,
"Hi."
When you turned to the side to see who it was, your eyes widened as you said in both recognition and surprise, "Unit 446?"
"That's me." He, Unit 446—in the flesh—said with a low chuckle, twisting himself so that he was sat appropriately on the high stool. Still, his body leaned towards you when he continued to say, "Fancy seeing you here."
You grinned, flattered at the casualness of his approach.
"Same to you. I wonder who told you about this local gem."
He pursed his lips. "A nice neighbor across my place... whom I still don't know the name of."
"Oh, shoot!" You'd face-palm right now if he wasn't looking, but truthfully, you didn't even think about that! You've just been referring to him as the Staircase Guy slash Neighbor 446 in your head and when you told Jimin about him. You laughed at the thought. "That neighbor of yours is __."
Neighbor 446 nodded and extended his hand to you
"I'm Jungkook."
It was a little silly but you shook hands, anyway, and knowing it was, indeed, silly, you both laughed together at your joint connection.
Jungkook. Huh. Not exactly a common Korean name, but it wasn't rare either. The name does ring a bell though, felt like you've heard it somewhere before.
You brushed off the familiarity as inconsequential.
Unlike the completely casual attire he adorned the first time that you met him, he was now in some sleek slacks and a white polo which sleeves were ridden up half high, which exposed the vines of ink on his right arm once again. There's a coat that hung around the back of his chair, and he had forgone the glasses this time around, which was a bit of a shame on the part of your brain that might have a silly crush on him.
Jungkook's clothes seemed to mirror your own business casual ensemble, and that made you think about what he possibly did for a living. Maybe he worked a corporate job just like you, and the prospect might have made you down a little—only because as far as you were concerned, corporate people weren't the most pleasant people you could encounter—but it was not something you dwelled on too much because you couldn't care less. If Jungkook was corporate, he sure didn't seem to be one the way he was.
Besides, you wouldn't be the one to bring up the depressing and aggravating conversation about gross grown-up things like... jobs... Eurgh. You both could just talk about the weather or how insane the ahjumma's ramen tasted for eternity.
"Well, hello, Jungkook." You greeted him. All warm and soft, testing the syllables of his name on your tongue. Rolled off well enough. He had a nice name that sure fit his face for some reason.
"Hi, __." He mirrored the soft smile on your lips, and just as he said it, the ahjumma was heading towards your direction to give him his order.
In that usual way grandmas reacted, the ahjumma gasped audibly—and dramatically, might you add—upon seeing Jungkook, but what she said next made you want to dig a hole under your seat.
"__-dear! Is this young man your boyfriend?"
Good thing you weren't consuming anything as of that moment, because it would've entered the wrong track.
"Ahjumma!" You laughed, totally not authentic at all because your face didn't match it, looking at Jungkook who just sent a shy smile her way.
Ahjumma must have seen you both talking to each other and had completely jumped to a conclusion. An insane one at that! 
Shaking your head, you clarified, "This is Jungkook. A friend. He's new in town and checking out all the stuff around here. I recommended him this place."
You saw Jungkook nodding along with your words while he helped her set his table.
The ahjumma just shook her head. "I apologize, then," She looked at Jungkook and as if gossiping with him, whispered in a not very subtle way, "I keep on telling this girl to date already! Such young beauty shouldn't be wasted, you know."
A tsk-ing sound made its way through her mouth, and as much as you were starting to feel embarrassed that she was telling on you on Jungkook—who was literally a stranger to you a day ago and whom you may have a teeny tiny bit of crush on—you knew ahjumma did not have any malicious intent and just chose to laugh the whole thing off.
You heard Jungkook do the same.
This was ridiculous.
"Ahjumma, I told you, you're gonna be the first one to know when I date. For now I'm just a part-time accountant and a full-time promoter of Midday Miso." You pout at her, trying to dodge the topic of romance altogether.
Not in front of Jungkook.
"Ayee," She gave you a side-eye. "Fine. I'll bring over some extra beef."
You mouthed an enthusiastic "yes!" and raised your fist in the air with excitement, and Jungkook looked at the interaction with a smile on his face.
As the ahjumma walked away, you looked over at him.
"I'm glad you came by—" You identified his order to be the same one you used to be obsessed with the first few months you came to the restaurant. "—and ordered their best seller. You sure know how to be a tourist."
"Looked good on the menu. The ahjumma also seems to be nice. Seems like she's a close friend, huh?" Jungkook said.
"Totally."
And it was the truth. There was just something about ahjumma that made you feel reminiscent about the grandmother you've never had. Ever since you moved in and became a regular at this place, it felt like she's taken care of you and your relationship had been special since.
"This is really good." Jungkook commented after having his second bite, and you nodded in agreement. "She was serious about the beef thing?"
You chuckled at the mention. "Yeah, she always gives me extra."
"You just always get free stuff around these areas?" Jungkook joked which earned a hearty laugh from you. You remembered telling him about the free brownie on Sundays at Brown Coffee, a little bit surprised he recalled that.
"Now that you said that, I actually do." You proudly shared. You've been in this town for so long that the various faces just went from familiar to friends.
Jungkook nodded, his face showing amusement.
"I have to learn your ways, then."
"The secret to that is be incompetent at cooking. It means it's either take-out or eat out. Business owners around here have no choice but to see me every three days because I can't cook my own meal."
You could see Jungkook's amusement growing every second, and to add faux insult to injury, he joked, "Oh, bummer."
You decided to ride along with that.
"You mean you're a good cook? That's the real bummer! And here I thought we were bonding." You said, purposefully trying to sound scandalous at his implication of being a good cook.
He shook his head instantly, chuckling. "Okay, nah. I'm not that good. Just decent. But I'll have you know I can make a mean tangsuyuk. Any other complicated stuff is out the window, so there, we are bonding."
"I appreciate that you're under the assumption that I know where to begin with the non-complicated stuff. You're already putting way too much faith in me."
"I seriously doubt that." Jungkook laughed once again.
"You know what my friend tells me? That I'd die at twenty-nine because I don't know how to cook."
Jungkook almost keeled over hearing you say the words, and as much as you were amused at his own amusement, you decided to further add on the joke because you were enjoying this way too much.
"Wow. I wouldn't doubt you'd be an accessory to my murder the way you're laughing way too hard at my impending death. That's next year, you know."
Jungkook reached over for the glass of water and drank it. While he did so, the ahjumma had come over to give you the beef she promised. You did not forgot to thank her as soon as she went away. 
You did hope Jungkook didn't notice the malicious wink she sent your way.
"Fuck, sorry." Jungkook's laughter had gone down this time, but his eyes still showed a hint of mirth when he asked, "You're twenty-eight, then?"
You nodded. "Yep." Unfortunately, you thought.
"Oh, that's actually surprising."
A gasp left your mouth. Jungkook was quick to correct himself.
"I meant it's surprising because I thought you were way younger."
Oh.
"Don't flatter me. I won't share my extra beef with you."
"I thought—" He shrugged. "—Early twenties."
"I'm guessing you are in your early twenties." You joked back.
"Okay, now, don't flatter me. I know how old I look." Jungkook said with a dismissive tone, but nevertheless light-hearted. Just like how this whole thing was going.
God, you were so in awe of how good he was at talking to you that he was practically bringing out the extrovert in you you only ever show to exclusive people like Jimin.
"So, you're like, fifty, then?"
Incredulous, Jungkook burst into laughter. "Wow."
"Sorry, just that you sounded like you were five years from retirement! Anyway, you look like we're the same age?"
He shook his head. "Three years older. Turning thirty-one later this year."
Jaw dropped. Not physically, but mentally.
"Oh wow, you're basically—" a fucking DILF! What the hell!
Thankfully you managed to cut yourself off before Jungkook could think you were way off your rocks and embarrass yourself in front of him for eternity. You could just hear Jimin from miles away telling you off about calling thirty-year-old men DILFs even though you didn't know if they had a child.
What do you mean this guy was thirty and why did that just make him even hotter in your head... He's got to stop this madness before you do something completely incomprehensible.
"—A senior." Was the lame thing you came up with to finish your sentence.
"Ouch." Jungkook said, but his word was completely opposite to the expression he was wearing on his face the way he just couldn't suppress the grin that had been visible on his mouth since you started talking.
You brought your hands up.
"Totally didn't mean that in a negative way."
Which was the entire truth. So far, the things you knew about him was that he had tattoos, a nice body, a nice personality, good ass freaking conversationalist, and that he was thirty! Thirty! As in, the peak of male hotness. The evil psychological concept of most men only getting hotter as they age.
"I'm sure, I'm sure," Jungkok nodded. "By the way, are you heading out after this?"
"Oh, yeah. Don't have anywhere else to go. I have a nine A.M tomorrow so..." you shrugged, and he nodded in understanding.
"You work as an accountant, right, from what you told the ahjumma?" Jungkook asked you curiously.
"Yeah... it's a very tedious job." You grimaced a little bit. "What about you?"
He tilted his head a bit, picking up a dumpling on his plate. "I'm a software engineer."
"Oh, that's cool."
You nodded to yourself while you processed what he said.
Works in fucking tech; another thing you just learned about him. 
You weren't actively seeking out guys in tech, but why did they seem to come to you voluntarily? God forbid you saw someone who wasn't in there! Was every man working in tech now? Was Jimin really only being truthful when he said they were exactly your type?
"Have you made any software or is that, like, a wrong assumption about you guys?"
Jungkook merely chuckled at your retort.
"Not entirely, no. I've designed a few software in college—I'm still doing it. I'm just currently doing more business stuff now." He gave you a sheepish smile. "You?"
"Well, it's just... you know—I actually work at a tech company. I'm a junior accountant. And, uh, nothing interesting, really. You get to do cool math like programming, and I get to do boring math like calculating money I don't have. It's always a great day at work." You said, couldn't help the laugh that skipped your mouth at your own sarcasm.
Nothing like joking about hating your job to someone who you just met yesterday.
"Programming and coding are not all that, either. It's tedious and... it's just a really boring job. But... it all pays the bills."
You chuckled.
"Yeah. Totally."
Without minding it, you raised the small glass of soju, initiating a toast, one that Jungkook understood immediately and met you in the middle of it.
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The night was still you when you walked out of Midday Miso, but unlike any other nights, it was with Jungkook this time walking beside you.
"So you just—what—hid him for three months?"
"Well, yes! I wasn't about to get a notice for that! And besides, he was really cute. But he's in good hands now, his owner still sends me pictures of him. He's very grown and big."
"That's insane."
You peered at Jungkook who watched you in awe as you told him about the story of Alfredo, the cat whom you rescued on your way home from work a year ago. The landlady obviously had her fair share of rules and regulations in her building, and keeping pets was an absolute no, which was a shame. Definitely wasn't a shame when you first just moved in the complex, but things got lonely sometimes when you were living alone and company was almost a luxury.
Anyway, as told, you managed to keep Alfredo out of the landlady's sight until you found a highly qualified parent on some online forum who you still kept in contact with to this day.
But as you watched Jungkook, you noticed the way his expression fell into something concerning. He looked worried, which made you feel the same way as a result.
"What are you thinking?" You asked him curiously.
"Oh, nah, I was just... thinking. See, I actually have a dog."
"Oh!" You looked at him wide-eyed.
He has a dog; another thing about Jungkook that would qualify him on the regular rounds of hot boy of the month on Twitter dot com. 
"Yeah."
"You didn't read the terms and conditions of the building?" Your eyebrows formed a concerned expression.
Jungkook chuckled and shook his head. "I did. I just—suddenly thought about him, is all. He's being taken care of some place. But, you know, I missed him, and I was thinking about getting him here and showing him around my new place and all that."
"Oh... that's a bummer, then. The landlady's strict, even with the small dogs, can you imagine? Is he small, by the way, your dog?
"He's a Doberman, so definitely a big one."
"He must be really cute. What's his name?"
"Bam." He smiled at you, and you could totally see the pride showing on his face at the mention of his dog. And with a tone that you could only identify as someone who's suppressing his enthusiasm a little bit, he added, "You wanna see a picture of him?"
"Sure!"
Jungkook took out his phone from his pocket and showed you images of a big, chocolate brown dog. Bam definitely wasn't like the other regular Dobermans you'd see around. His ears weren't cropped, and his tail wasn't docked either. You didn't know if the lack of surgery was intentional from his side, but you'd like to think he kept it that way because he knew it hurt the dog greatly. From how you've been knowing him, you were certain he just didn't want to put his dog under unnecessary pain, which was honestly heartwarming to think about.
Jungkook was becoming way too good to be true in you head little by little.
"Awe, he's adorable!" You cooed, especially when he swiped through the picture of his pet, Bam, as a pup in what seemed to be Jungkook's arms based on the familiar tattoos that peeked from the exposed arm as seen on the picture. The tattoos also seemed to be new at that time as well, considering that the skin was still yet to be fully covered like now.
"I'm flattered you think that."
"Where is he, by the way? If you don't mind me asking."
"He's at a... friend's place in New York. He's not very good at flying so I didn't bring him with me here, and I thought, I'll only be here for three months, anyway, so." Jungkook shrugged.
Three months. Well. He did say he was only staying here temporarily.
You nodded. "For business, right?"
"Yeah, yeah."
"You grew up there?" You kicked the stone that was caught at the tip of your shoe, putting your fists in the deeper part of your coat's pockets. Summer may be hot during daytime, but it sure as hell was cold on nights like these.
"Nah, I'm from Busan. Flew to California for college and have been there since. Until now, that is."
Jimin was also from Busan, you thought. Though he said they only lived there for a few years until his parents moved to Seoul, but he made sure to visit his hometown every now and then. Most of the time, he made you come with him which you never had complaints about. You lived in the city all your life so going there, especially in the more urbanized area where you and Jimin stayed. Felt like fresh air—which Busan had, quite literally.
"My best friend's from Busan too."
"Really? What about you?"
You chuckled before answering, "I, unfortunately, did not come from any interesting place. Born and raised in Seoul, through and through. Though my mom told me she lived in Daegu for many years prior to having me."
"Seoul is an interesting place, though."
"Eh. It's okay." You shrugged, and your nonchalance made you both laugh.
The walk to your apartment building from Midday Miso was not that far. Still, it was five blocks away and while you and Jungkook were currently sharing conversation together and seemingly walking the same path, you weren't sure if you were both walking together there.
As if he read your mind, he suddenly spoke after a few minutes of comfortable silence.
"You mind if we walk together to the building?"
You decided to joke to get the jittery feeling out of your system.
"Scared of the dark, Jungkook?"
"Sure... my five-eleven self is."
You squinted your eyes at him. He did not just go there!
"Is that a slight against my height because I'm five-seven, mind you."
Jungkook stopped in his tracks which made you do the same, and you watched as he put his hand on his waist while the other reach up to his face to place a finger over his chin, seemingly assessing you up and down. You looked at him incredulously.
"You're bumping your height to two inches." He seriously said.
You gasped audibly.
"Oh, shut up,"
You rolled your eyes and turned your back at him, continuing your walk as you heard him behind you bursting in laughter at your reaction.
"I'm kidding!"
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You first met Jimin at a college party. He was five years older than you, supposedly out of college by the time you attended, but he always had a problem with rebellion–what with his ragged relationship with his parents, he would intentionally flunk his courses as a message to them that he'd always be a black sheep and a proud one at that, hoping it would be enough to convey that they could not force him to be the heir of their company. (Obviously, it had taken him nowhere, given that he was now currently attending a training program to work at said company).
But maybe it was a blessing in disguise that he was set back to five years for graduation. Because you got to know him, and he got to know you.
On the outside, you might look like the total opposite of each other–because Jimin was the definition of extroversion who wasn't afraid to put himself out there–while you, admittedly, were more reserved and usually shied away from any public attention.
As much as you were welcoming to a lot of people, you didn't have a lot of close friends growing up–at least not the kind of friends you'd see on TV shows–but when Jimin came to your life, you clicked so instantly you could not even figure out where you two exactly began.
The instant way you two clicked, you realized, was like your relationship with Jungkook nowadays.
Ever since that night at Midday Miso, you've been seeing a lot of each other. Granted that it was only in the same place, same time. You'd usually arrive past seven and he, a few minutes later. Jungkook, cladded in his slacks and long-sleeved polo, was becoming a usual sight after a shift, and your business casual clothes was turning as one for him as well.
Your usual seating spot became his as nights passed, and ahjumma, thank God, no longer asked you if he was your boyfriend. You were glad that she was slowly getting acquainted with him though, greeting him with a friendlier smile and tone reserved only for customers like you when he entered the restaurant, and Jungkook seemed to welcome the newfound friendship wholeheartedly.
On the consecutive nights you'd spent with him, it was almost as if you lived quite the same life. Though, you didn't know when he went to work. In fact, you didn't see him during the mornings even though in theory, it could be easy, granted that you both lived across each other. But strangely enough, you'd never caught him retiring to his flat to go to the bus station. You assumed he started earlier than you or way later.
You never asked, it never came up either.
Still, there was some sort of tranquility in the thought that you could spend some time with someone after your shift and just talk about whatever–and whatever meant a lot of things. Random at best. You once told him about the first raccoon you met in your life, and he told you all about the lioness he got to watch when he went to a South Saharan trip a few years ago.
Sometimes, the conversation went around what happened in the office that day. Jungkook noticed the little blot of ink on the cuff of your baby blue long sleeves, and you told him about the jammed printer in the accounting department. He'd told you later on about how he almost fucked up a report, said he was nervous because he was taking on a new role in the office.
Those moments were shared in long walks from Midday Miso to your apartment building, because naturally, you both established a small tradition of walking home together after a night of eating your hearts out at ahjumma's restaurant.
It was a rather sweet gesture, if you were honest to yourself. But you chose not to linger too much on the romantic thoughts that floated in your head, especially when you'd notice the way he made sure to walk on the outer side of the sidewalk, and when your fingers got too close the tips almost touched.
Because Jungkook, for how objectively good looking he was, was more than just his pretty face and physique.
He was kind and funny and genuine unlike any other straight men you've met in your life. Maybe the bar was low, but for all the times you've gotten to talk to him, he never showed any signs of ego most men would by the second hour of your meeting.
In the dating scene as an adult, a lot of men would come up to a date talking about how high they were placed at their company's hierarchy and how much they made in a month, and when they hear about yours, they'd always have a backhanded comment about how "you could only go up from there, right?" and those moments were always a bummer. Yawn-inducing, to be more accurate. Men and their predictability was boring and it was the reason why you'd declare to Jimin almost every time you got home from a date that you were retired from looking for them because most men just plainly fucking sucked.
But with Jungkook... was it different.
You found he didn't talk a lot, and one time you asked him if you were doing it–the talking–way too much, but he just chuckled and told you that he didn't mind.
Later on, you learned that he was just more of a listener rather than a talker, and that was not only a pure assumption of yours because he did listen attentively, alright. As for all the random things you've told him about, you never expected him to recall a single thing, not until one time when you passed by a food truck.
"Hey, didn't you say you like sundae?" Jungkook asked, and when you followed where his eyes were, it was at the food truck parked just a few steps ahead from where you both were.
"I do... wow. It's been so long since I saw a food truck around here." You said, following his steps towards the vehicle.
They had tables to dine in, and even if you were still full from eating at Midday Miso that night, the sundae was just too gratifying to decline. Jungkook was the same with the tteokbokki on his small plate, telling you he missed eating at one of these things, as they didn't exactly have anything like this abroad.
After he paid for the food (and of course not without a long, silly, light-hearted argument about it), he came back with two sticks of Melona ice pops which you looked at with widened eyes, animated expression written all over your face especially when he thrusted the purple yam flavor to you.
"Oh my god, how do they have these?"
"I was surprised as well... this is the first time in a while I'm eating this again." Jungkook said and then gestured to the ice pop in your hand, "You like the purple yam, right?"
"Yeah!"
You were about to ask him how he knew, but then you briefly remembered that one time you had a passionate rant about people hating on purple yam ice cream and why they weren't right.
And as you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to remember it all too well.
Jungkook showed genuine interest in the things you'd tell him about. He'd visit the cafes and restaurants you recommended to him as much as he could, and because you've come to exchange numbers with him eventually after almost two weeks of casually hanging out, they sometimes came during lunch break.
1 message received from Jungkook (Unit 446)
That day, you only exchanged contacts the other night, so seeing him on your phone so quickly like that caught you by surprise. It was welcomed though.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: I went to Cafe Heaven for lunch and loved their ice americano
As soon as you read the first message, another one came.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: This is Jungkook by the way :)
You laughed at his introduction. As if he didn't see you type his name on your phone last night–like he didn't jokingly complain about you putting the (Unit 446) in there but giving in eventually and also adding (Unit 336) to yours in his own contacts.
You [12:38pm]: Hi Jungkook! You [12:38pm]: im glad u went!!! u should also try their fettuccine alfredo
Seconds later, he sent a picture of the dish you just mentioned which put a smile on your face.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:39pm]: i'll get my refund from you if this doesnt taste good
You [12:40pm]: 1 week of friendship and ur already ripping me off 🤐
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: 😁 Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: first bite Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:41pm]: second bite
What was he on, you didn't know. But you were glad that he was slowly coming around, his jokes getting more... how would you say it... less polite? He just stopped apologizing after he said them! He usually would in the first few days, but now in your newfound closeness, it was like you were out of that stage where you tiptoed around each other still, feeling the other one out, trying to figure them out, all that stuff.
Nowadays, it was just more natural. Smooth-sailing. Paradoxical, almost, because of how the relationship felt more defined as well as loose.
You found you liked it that way. 
Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:42pm]: I like it 👍🏻
And to your surprise, he sent you a picture of him, indeed, holding a thumbs up.
You'd like to think you were an expert on going along with the tide because even though you would be classified as introvert by most, you did pretty well in forming relationships with people–granted, most of them were fleeting, at best, hence the lack of bigger circles in most of your life–but you were great with making friends, regardless. 
And maybe it was how you ended up with this whole thing with Jungkook. Because you were friendly and open, although you wouldn't dare to take all credits because as you mentioned before, he was a great conversationalist.
He didn't talk much as you said, but he didn't ever make you feel like you were talking way too much because he made sure that you knew he was listening, and when he talked, it was always engaging; conversations with him transitioned to different subjects in perfect seugue you would never noticed how you jumped from Melona ice pops to the existential dread you fought every morning before going to work.   
When it came to humor, Jungkook's was different from Jimin's, of course, and your dynamic with your best friend could never be replicated with somebody else but Jungkook was close to truly becoming your friend, and for that, it was getting easier to ignore his handsome face.
You may have had an embarrassing moment of panicking mentally at seeing such a man in the first meeting, but nowadays, you could hold a conversation with him without thinking how hot he was.
Dare you say, you were starting to think more platonically about him rather than romantically. As you said, you were an expert on going along with the tide.
Or maybe that was too soon a declaration, because there were moments, like now, when you were certain juvenile flirting insisted on happening between you, steering you clear from completely feeling wholly platonic about Jungkook.
"I certainly have a bigger hand than you."
As if you didn't know that, Jungkook brought his hand up to show you it. Confused but not totally minding the whole thing, you proceeded to extend your own hand towards his, pressing them both together. Predictably, his hand could have engulfed the entirety of your own.
Jungkook laughed at the sight, and you didn't know exactly who broke the physical contact first but you were glad it was over as soon as it started.
But you couldn't have forgotten the electric zap along your spine when your hand got so close like that to his. Couldn't have ignored the hot feeling in your cheeks when you were made aware of what you just did.
Wow.
Were you guys flirting? Was he flirting? It was flirting, right? Juvenile, at best, because this was what kids did in high school! And Jungkook's hand was so...
You never imagined what it felt like–never even crossed your mind until now. Expectations about how his hand felt never formed in your head because you sure as hell never thought about that kind of thing happening in the first place, but Jungkook's hand was the right balance of soft and hard. Calloused in a way most men's hands naturally were, and soft like enough comfort when held and touched.
It wasn't clammy, thank god, but you also wouldn't have thought he had clammy hands, solely because he just looked like he didn't. But god, was it big.
And my goodness, did it make you feel things.
You drank your water fast and cleared your throat, subtly, so that he didn't think too much of it.
"O-okay, but that's just genetics. Doesn't mean you could throw stronger punches."
You said in retaliation to one of your useless debates which now covered the coin-operated boxing arcade machine across the bus station nearby.
Jungkook leaned back against the monobloc chair that was definitely way too flimsy for him.
You were currently hanging out at the dining area of the food truck you came across a few days ago, forgoing Midday Miso for the night. Lately, Jungkook and you have been exploring a few more places other than there. You've tried other restaurants nearby, but ultimately, Midday Miso was still the top favorite and the food truck was becoming a staple in lieu of its convenience and just the overall vibe of eating outside and feeling the breeze of summer night air.
"You got me curious about the boxing machine." Jungkook said, crossing his arms.
"I held the highest score there for like a week, you know? Only did it though to impress the kids who liked to watch."
At that, Jungkook's face lit up in interest.
"We should do that sometime."
"Oh... I see, I see. You wanna impress the kids, too?" You playfully accused, squinting your eyes at him.
He chuckled and waved you off.
"It can be a challenge." Jungkook shrugged and looked at you with a hint of mirth in his eyes.
You let out a puff of breath, amused at his obvious antics.
"What's the catch?"
"Well... free boba delivered to your door for a week if you get the higher score. How's that sound?" He looked at you expectantly.
You chuckled before saying, "I'm gonna rip you off so bad, Jungkook."
"Only if you win, though." He said with a mischievous smirk. 
"Oh, wow. When, you mean. When I win. So what's in it for you?" You leaned your elbow on the table and studied his face.
He looked at you for a while, then, the smirk from earlier was wiped off and exchanged with a much gentler smile.
"Home-cooked dinner at my place next week Friday."
Your eyebrows met.
"You want me to cook you something? Jungkook, do you have a death wish? I may either give you unintentional food poisoning or burn your house down, there's no in between."
"No," Jungkook laughed at your insane conclusion. "Sorry, I should've specified. I mean if you lose, I'll be cooking us a meal at my place."
"Oh."
You were left staring at him, a bit dumbfounded.
He just said he wanted to cook you guys a meal. At his place.
He was inviting you to his place. His personal space.
"It won't be better than Midday Miso but I think I can keep up." Jungkook added with a sheepish smile and scratched the back of his head in that seemingly boyish manner.
"Sure..." you responded, a bit delayed, much to your effort of not showing your big surprise at his offer. Before he noticed the way you were not believing what you heard, you chose to quip in a (hopefully) cheeky, "That is if you win, though."
Jungkook only hummed and then nodded.
"If I win."
He said, smiling at you.
This was dangerous.
The whole thing was teetering to something that was not very platonic, and just as you were starting to think this whole thing was!
Jimin always told you that you were bad at flirting, but in your defense, how were you supposed to know, exactly, if someone was flirting with you? A lot of people were friendly like that! Jungkook was maybe like that? Had you shown interest and he noticed so now he was playing into it? But that would be uncharacteristic of him. You didn't think he'd be the type to do something cruel like that...
But the tide was always rising and falling, they said, and the good thing was; you knew how to go along with the current.
So you did what you do best.
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"Would you like to donate to the poor?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but there's a chance this card's gonna decline because I am the poor."
The cashier looked you in the eye with an even more impassive look than the one she had before you got your turn on the counter.
"Could've just said no." She said, punching your order away and you had to shamefully swipe your card and leave to go over where Jimin was.
"The cashier just snubbed me for being poor." You complained to Jimin, moving your coat to the next seat and settling in in yours.
Jimin took a sip from his latte and looked at you dead in the eye and said, "I'll call the manager if you want."
"Fuck off." You retaliated immediately. Jimin snorted at your way too predictable response.
See, this has happened way too many times more than what your fingers could count. You could not even pinpoint the exact time when Jimin started to joke about going full-on Karen-mode when you complained about a single little thing at the places you went to.
Anyway, you were currently on a lunch break when Jimin texted to see if you were free. What better way to spend your lunch than with your best friend? The company's canteen food was getting tired and they hiked up their prices. Your office's kitchen also ran out of Solhee's – your coworker – biscuits and so you thought you had to make do of Jimin's money for that day. You told him your motives yourself and as a petty retort, he told you to pay for your own pasta — at a café that was way too expensive for its own good.
You stole a bite off his churros, and predictably, he rolled his eyes at you.
"Why'd you want to see me, by the way? What's up? You don't have training?" you glanced at your wristwatch, reading 12:40pm.
Soon, you were casually taking over his plate of churros. For how ridiculously priced it was, it sure tasted good as hell.
"I got the day off." Jimin shrugged.
You eyed him suspiciously almost immediately.
"Did you really...?"
It was a few seconds before Jimin gave in and took back his plate.
"Okay, no, I ditched the training today but for the record it's for a very important reason."
You put your hand over your chest and contorted your face in an awed, touched expression.
"The important reason being... meeting me?"
"Ew, no," Was Jimin's quick, disgusted, response – which earned a laugh from you as usual.
From your peripheral vision, you saw the waiter heading towards your direction and so you waited for him to come over and serve you your pasta and frappe. After thanking him, you huddled closer to your best friend and asked, "Okay, what is it then?"
Jimi pursed his lips, making your eyebrows meet.
"It's kinda... bummer news."
"You're pregnant?"
"No, you'd be way too happy and I can't be a single dad," He shook his head as if not even wanting to imagine that.
"Namjoon looks like he's gonna take care of it with you." You sing-sang, sipping on your coffee and winking at him indiscreetly – emphasis on indiscreetly because you never knew how to wink properly.
What you did not expect, was the look on Jimin's face when you mentioned Namjoon.
"Well..." He trailed off, and you waited for it curiously; anticipating his impending answer in return because your conversation was always quick-witted like that. But right now, Jimin's expression was devoid of any jokes. 
Not something you expected when you just mentioned his boyfriend.
"I— did something happen?" You quickly dropped the teasing tone and exchanged it with a concerned one, eyes looking at him with worry.
Jimin closed his eyes for a while and let out a deep breath. "See, that's the bummer news."
"Do you want to tell me? Or we can just—"
He cut you off before you could even finish your sentence. But he did it with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes – and this was Jimin. His eyes did not not reach his eyes when he smiled!
"He's going to Italy."
"Oh."
When the pause prolonged for over a minute, with you looking at him mouth agape, Jimin let out a heavy sigh once again and shook his head.
"I know. It's work... and I always understood that. He travels a lot and we're both okay with it. But it was usually just around the country, not another continent. I mean, what did he mean Italy? And that's not even the worst part. He knew a month ago he was going but he only told me two days ago and he's leaving Thursday," Jimin looked at you to take a pause, seemingly trying to look for a reaction.
You thought, that's tomorrow.
As if he read your mind, he nodded, sounding almost defeated.
"I know."
"Oh, Jimin..." You said, not exactly knowing what to say.
Jimin and Namjoon had been together for over a year. At least, officially, because they spent the last three years just casually hooking up on and off. You liked them together and had been more than glad when they finally put a label to it – exactly why you knew Namjoon enough to not badmouth him when you usually would men Jimin usually dated. You knew perfectly well that Namjoon genuinely cared about your best friend and he loved him. So if Jimin was at a loss for this obvious mistake on his boyfriend's part, even more so you were.
"He's been blowing up my phone ever since." Jimin added, glancing at his phone on the table. "Intentionally didn't charge my phone today so I don't receive his calls and texts."
That prompted you to remember the message you received from Namjoon last night.
"Oh, that's why he texted me yesterday. He asked about you, and I told you through text but you didn't answer." Things were starting to make sense now, and as you observed Jimin's face, they were getting clearer. "You never talked since?"
Jimin pursed his lips. He took his coffee back to his mouth and sipped while looking away. "Nope."
"Jimin." You tilted your head.
He looked at you again, and you knew exactly that he was thinking the same thing as you: It was within his right to feel off about what Namjoon did, but regardless; Jimin was being a little petty, and he needed to communicate with his boyfriend instead of giving him the cold shoulder.
There was a pout that formed on Jimin's lips right after.
"I know. I just..."
"He could've told you sooner?" He nodded at your words. You mirrored that. "He should have. Italy is not Busan – it's not just a train ride away."
Jimin sighed, looking exasperated now. "I told him that exactly. I'm not even mad he's going to Italy, I just think I deserve to know right after he was told about it."
You nodded. "You should really talk. It sounds like he wants to apologize, anyway, given that he's now trying to talk to me to get through you."
"Sorry you got caught up in this. I'm gonna talk to him about it."
"Eh, it's fine. Joon and I are also friends, you know?" You shrugged, genuinely not minding Namjoon coming to you. 
You liked Namjoon and thought that he was the perfect match for Jimin. They were cute together and just seemed to... take the best out of each other. You'd go to any lengths to keep them together, as long as Jimin wanted Namjoon and as his boyfriend. You've seen Jimin go from relationships to relationships, some just fleeting and simple dalliances, and most destructive and were just... not good for him. You've never seen your best friend truly happy and committed in a romantic relationship other than with Namjoon, and as someone who cared about him, you'd do a lot of things to make him happy.
"Here's another thing, his flight is tomorrow at 11:30pm in the evening. Mom's birthday dinner is at 10." Jimin usually had his composure everytime, and it was very rarely you'd see him show any worry because he liked everybody to think he was in control of every situation. You smiled. Classic Jimin. He'd only ever show his true nature to you though, and that was exactly why he looked at you with worried eyes and continued to say, "I really wanna be there to send him off."
The call time for his mother's party was at 10 and naturally people would start swarming in way past that time. If Jimin were to sneak out way too early, you knew his mother was not going to be happy about it and his father would give him an even bigger shit for it. Sure, he could cancel, but what would he say? That their supposed cishet son is sending off his boyfriend at the airport for the night? He couldn't reason work either because he didn't exactly have one.
After having his wrongful DUI accusation last spring– which was actually already settled, on the grounds that it was definitely not DUI and the owner of the other car just overreacted to a fender bender, the media was adamant on tactically using that to taint his family's image and it unfortunately succeeded – hence, why Jimin had been laying low these past few months; going to training programs, obeying his parents more than usual, doing what they wanted...
You sighed. Your best friend deserved so much better.
"Don't worry, I'll find a way to get us to leave early." You told him after awhile.
Jimin arched his brow, intrigued.
Waving him off, you said, "I can fake something."
As if hearing some magic words, Jimin suddenly perked up.
"No way you're using the diarrhea card?"
Giving him a dirty look, you shook your head. "Nah, not during a dinner party. It's gotta be something new and less... gross."
"Oh, oh!" Jimin put a finger over his lip. "What about a sprained ankle? Can you pull that off?"
You deadpanned. "Okay, you ought to pay me more if you want me to do that."
"I can, but I won't. Stop ripping me off, I'm your best friend."
"Jimin, I'll save you from your family. I'm great at this." You said jokingly, but you hoped that he knew you weren't just jesting and were serious about it.
With the appreciation masking your best friend's face, though, you knew he got the message right away, but as you looked at him longer, you realize that he was about to say something and you quickly pulled back, shaking your head.
Jimin quickly reacted. "No! You know what, I'm gonna say it—"
"Don't say it." You quickly cut him off, giggling while you shake your cup of coffee.
"You can't keep me from saying I lo—"
"Jimin, I will tell everybody in this place you watch dubbed anime, I'm serious."
He gasped, quite dramatically.
"You did not just go there!" Then, he lowered his voice a bit, arching his brow at you, vindicative when he said, "You wore skinny jeans a month ago."
"How dare you, you wore a fuckass poncho last week. I saw on your IG story."
"That was from Namjoon and he also gave you one, FYI."
You grimaced. "Tell him I love him but I'm not wearing a poncho, Jimin."
"I was gonna tell you I love you and that you're the best person ever but now I have to rethink all of that." He rolled his eyes, and when the banter ended with you having the last words, you laughed at his face.
"God, you're just never beating me at this."
"Please, we both know you write your mediocre insults on your diary every night trying to one-up me, __. But let's talk about something else."
"I'm not even gonna acknowledge the diary thing but, sure, shoot." You said, starting to eat your pasta.
Jimin looked at your food full of judgement and grimaced. "Is that shrimp? Your doctor is growing grey pubes as we speak," He commented, and you knew he was referring to your shrimp allergy so you shushed him.
"This is vegan shrimp. It's tofu."
He just shook his head, disagreement written on his face. But he let it pass, anyway.
"Anyway, how's Mr. 446?"
The pasta suddenly entered the wrong track.
"Girl," Jimin was quick to offer you the glass of water on his side and you were just as fast to drink it. "You okay?"
"I'm sure there are existing cases of people dying because food got on the wrong track while they're eating, but yeah, sure, I'm okay." When you finished the water, you looked at Jimin who was just doing the same thing.
Crossing his arms, he eyed you expectantly. "Well?"
"I mean... what do you want me to say?" you told him, and you could've sworn you did not want to show anything on your face but you were certain there was a huge smile on it and for some reason, you couldn't help it.
Jimin's jaw dropped, expressions of disbelief and amusement when he asked you curiously, "What do you mean by that?"
"Okay, look, Jimin—" You scratched the back of your head, feeling a little sheepish to tell him all about Jungkook. "He told me we'd get dinner at his place this Friday if he wins this... thing."
His mouth was agape by then and you couldn't help but laugh.
"You... slut."
You would absolutely be rolling off the floor if you weren't at a public place the moment he mouthed the word, but still, you couldn't help but retort back.
"Shut up, you can't be the only one whoring around in this friendship." Jimin snorted at that and you both had to stifle your laughter when you noticed a woman from across the room eyeing you both.
This was one of the reasons why Jimin and you didn't belong in public places other than bars or clubs – because you were way too rowdy together for civilization.
"So you're saying you're whoring around?" He eyed you suspiciously.
"Wrong information. It's actually kind of platonic."
Jimin quickly waved you off. "Babe, if a guy invites you to his place, nothing is ever platonic about it. What do you think you'll do together there? Stare at each other for two hours straight?"
God, you hated and loved that he enables your delusions.
"Okay, you're being insane about this. It's just dinner," Trying to fight off the not-so-very-platonic things that suddenly played in your head after hearing his previous remark. To show that you didn't care, you added for good measure, "—And anyway, we had some sort of deal about it so it's not definite."
Your best friend just shrugged. "I'm all for it. But you're sure he isn't a serial killer, right?"
"Jimin, god, no," you chuckled at that. "I mean, I don't really know for sure, but we're friends now and as far as I know, he's never shown signs of psychopathy."
Jimin and you hadn't hung out in a while, so you haven't really told him all about Jungkook yet and the things you got to know about him. He didn't even know his name. As far as he was concerned, Jungkook was still Mr. 446, and you were fine keeping it that way. He had a lot on his plate right now, anyway.
"Just being cautious." He sing-sang, putting both his hands in the air.
You shook your head.
"Anyway, we also need to talk about what we're gonna wear tomorrow," Jimin suddenly said. "You got the Pinterest board I sent you, right? For the inspo."
Grinning, you grabbed your iPad from your bag and got to the link immediately. Your phone died on the way to the café. Good thing you had another device and brought it with you.
"I also added a few things in here. Gold and black's the theme, right?" You clarified, scrolling through the board you and Jimin both contributed to. Your best friend took it upon himself to transfer seats so he could be beside you and look at your screen at the same time.
"You're gonna look so good in Schiaparelli, babe," Jimin said while checking out the pictures you added.
"It's just an inspo, I don't actually need to wear a Schiaparelli." You chuckled.
"Who do you think your best friend is?"
You both laughed at that but it stopped when a notification popped up on your computer. Recognizing the address as your work email, you were quick to hover over it. When you were about to open it to see the full message, your iPad suddenly died.
"Shoot." You looked at Jimin with a straight face. "I forgot to plug it in. Didn't notice the battery."
Jimin grimaced. "Didn't bring any power cable."
"We'll have to do with a phone. Mine died."
You were just about to ask him for his but then you remembered what he said about avoiding Namjoon, hence, his phone was of no use either. 
"We're gonna have to freestyle."
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Last year, Mrs. Park's party was held at a theater hall – your first time at one, by the way.
Tonight, it was at their mansion.
You've only ever been to the Park's a total of one time, which was now. Stepping a foot inside here for the first time in your life, the house felt unreal. It was the epitome of money and wealth and everything regal in the world – like a palace of some sort. They had butlers and guards at the gates so maybe that wasn't an exaggeration, but damn, Jimin truly came from money.
Regardless of how shiny the whole building was in both literal and figurative senses though, there was an emptiness to it. It didn't look lived in – which was a fair assumption for a house this big. It definitely did not look like people liked staying here, and maybe that was not a stretch, because as soon as he turned 18, Jimin moved away and lived in his own place ever since. You asked him on your way here and he told you it was his first time this year to visit his own house.
The decoration was sick, though. Granted, they must have surely hired people to do it but at least they'd hired excellent ones. You wouldn't have expected anything less from Jimin's mom.
Jimin and you arrived at 10pm sharp, and thankfully, people were already starting to fill the place up. It was now past 15 minutes to 10pm since you arrived and there really was nothing different that went on from last year; you saw some familiar faces, politicians, and celebrities. Jimin introduced you to some people as his girlfriend, and you got to have quick chats with his model friends.
You knew it didn't actually matter if you thought about it carefully, but there was truly nothing compared to the feeling you get when you see someone in the flesh that you only see on TV all your life. You didn't feel lucky to see them in person, per se, you were just poured over the realization that these people were actually real and they weren't just some sort of simulation to keep the entertainment industry of your country afloat.
Although, you did meet Han Sol – an actress whose works you genuinely admired. Jimin just told you her husband was his second cousin.
It wasn't later that Jimin and you were invited to his family's table, where some of his cousins and immediate family were.
The greetings went pretty normal. Normal as in: Jimin's mom didn't say anything about your weight first thing first. Granted, she didn't try to hide the look of disappointment on her face when she saw you with his son. Probably reeling at the fact that you were still "dating" each other even after a year — she was probably under the impression that it wasn't serious between you two last year. His father, meanwhile, was... quiet. As usual. A man who obviously didn't really say much except ask Jimin about the training program and his siblings' jobs.
Mr. Park didn't really talk to you, just like last year. Like you were almost invisible to him – and you were glad that was the case. He probably didn't like to acknowledge your supposed relationship in the first place. Probably knew that you were working a middle-class job and didn't want to know any further. But at least, he wasn't saying anything. That was nice.
"Where's your cousin?" Asked Jimin's mom suddenly, looking at his son.
"He said he got caught up in traffic. Sent 20 minutes ago." Jimin shrugged. You would ask him about which cousin they were referring to but they had like millions of it at these events so you didn't bother.
Mrs. Park shook her head disapprovingly. "That kid. Always late to the family dinners. Did Junghyun ever teach—"
"Hey,"
Your attention was then focused to the man who just arrived. Black tie, tall... dashing. Jimin was a good-looking individual and his family, as evil as they may be as per his words, were blessed with good genes. If you were to look at the new man that arrived to the table very carefully, you'd say he almost looked familiar.
"Oh, Junghyun!"
Jimin glanced at you and discreetly mouthed, "Cousin."
"Aunt, happy birthday." He said after laughing at Jimin's mother coos. He looked across the table and continued, "Hi, uncle. Jaeyul, Sunghoon, Jimin." They all greeted him back and you could feel the hairs on your nape starting to stand up when his eyes landed on you once again. "And this is...?"
"Oh, that's Jimin's girlfriend, __." Jaeyul, Jimin's brother said.
"Hi." you greeted him, waving a bit.
"Oh?" Junghyun immediately looked at Jimin, eyes not hiding his shock. When you trained your eyes on Jimin, you felt his fake smile. "That's great, man. I didn't know you had a girlfriend. Hi, miss...?"
"It's __." you filled in.
"Nice to meet you, __." He said with a smile. The more you looked at him, the more you could almost pinpoint who he looked like – but that shouldn't really matter.
Junghyun looked over Jimin's parents once again, "Anyway, sorry I'm a bit late, got caught up in traffic."
Jimin cleared his throat.
"How about you, Junghyun? Got a girlfriend yet?" He asked as soon as Junghyun sat on the opposite side of the long table.
You could see Jimin's mother's curiosity peaking at that.
"Tell us, dear. Last time you were dating Kang Iseul, right? The actress. You're still with her?"
Everybody at the table nodded while you almost choked on the smoked quail you were eating. He was dating Kang Iseul? She was a popular actress who announced a hiatus three years ago. That actress Kang Iseul?
Junghyun chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, aunt, that was my brother, and uh, no, I'm not dating anybody currently."
"Oh well. I just wish your brother stops dating that woman. I never really liked that girl. She acts way too self-righteous! I mean, who cut ties with their billionaire father and live independently just so they can say they're self-made? It's ridiculous." Jimin's mother said in that usual snotty tone of hers, and you could not possibly process all of what was going on.
If it wasn't clear to you a moment ago, it was crystal now. Unfortunately, you were a bit chronically online and were there in real time when one random tweet blew up about Kang Iseul being a nepotism baby. But was this guy's brother really dating her? The most important and concerning thing, though, was that: why was Jimin's mom always so annoying about who her family members date? And this was not even her immediate family, mind you.
"Jina," Jimin's father had a warning tone when he called her but Jimin's mom just shrugged him off with a "tsk!"
"Kids are so ungrateful nowadays, don't you think? Anyway, Junghyun dear, you remember the Kang gala I told you about two months ago?" Jimin's mom looked pointedly at Jimin and you bit your lip.
Of course, here comes her passive aggressive disapproval of you. 
"Kang Heesu and her sister Kang Hani will be there. Heesu is a wonderful woman," she chuckled, looking over at Jimin's direction subtly. You had to physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Couldn't she be more obvious about acting as a wingman for Jimin and Heesu? But she continued, just like she always did. "I also heard Kang Hani is going for senior partner at Yoon and Yang, you may be interested. Pretty lady."
Junghyun just awkwardly laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."
Jimiin's father suddenly spoke, making everyone look at him.
"Where is that kid?" He said, authority dripping through his voice. Jimin was obviously not close to his father, and who would be? Mr. Park was way too intimidating. You found it funny to think if he ever did anything remotely paternal towards his children.
"We were supposed to go together but he said he had something to finish. He'll be arriving later." Junghyun said, obviously not oblivious to the "kid" Mr. Park was referring to. You were way too uncaring to actually try to figure that out.
"I see." Jimin's father nodded. "How's Jeon and Min, Junghyun? I heard you were just appointed managing partner last week."
Junghyun responded with a "yes" and they started to talk about the law firm – you assumed – and other people they mutually knew related to the business.
You knew Jimin's complicated family tree was composed of all sorts of professionals, but damn, they had lawyers in here too. It was like out of a career day event at grade schools.
"Is it true Gukka's going to be CEO?" Jimin's mother said, joining the conversation.
You were glad they were doing all the talking. Last year, they talked to you like they were interrogating you and that was not nice.
"Well, dad's not giving up the company so soon. Gukka's going for interim CTO first." Junghyun said with a polite smile.
Gukka. That must be the brother of Junghyun, although it sounded more like a nickname than a real name.
"Your brother's a hard worker. He's looking at a CEO position, some are still at training programs." Jimin's father remarked with a pointed tone.
Oh, fuck me, you thought to yourself. You thought it was gonna take awhile for the comparison to start, but it seemed they were determined to beat their record of one hour from last year.
You tried subtly looking at Jimin to see if he was okay or anything, but you felt him squeezing your wrist under the table. His face was devoid of any emotion as he continued with his own food.
Junghyun, meanwhile, was obviously taken aback by the response and also looked over at Jimin. He was quick to recover, though – probably knew that was a jab at his cousin just like every other person in the room. Atmosphere grew tense, and you had to squirm in your seat a little bit.
"Training programs help a lot, though." Junghyun awkwardly laughed. You were starting to feel bad for him as well.
"Well, you're lawyering. Trainings are important. Mine's kinda stupid." Jimin said which made everybody look at him, including you.
"You're learning anything yet, son?" His father pointedly looked at him.
"We'll see."
Jimin's dismissive tone made you feel the eye roll he would've done after saying that.
Look, he rebelled for the most part of his life so him being passive-aggressive towards his family was not a new thing, but to witness it was both nerve-wracking and honestly... funny. His parents were such assholes so they probably deserved his attitude.
Mrs. Park smiled a fake one before looking at you.
"Well, what about you __ dear? You're a... what was that again? How is that going for you?"
Because you wanted to piss them off, you mirrored her fake smile and said, "I got fired six months ago at my accounting job."
"Pft—" you pinched Jimin's arm at his reaction.
Of course he'd laugh at that. You asked him how you could piss his parents off tonight just to get back at them from last year and he told you to pretend to be unemployed or you work a minimum wage job because that was their biggest ick. Jimin didn't know you were going to come through.
"Oh."
The look on Jimin's mom's face looked as if she heard the most scandalous thing ever, and if his father's frown was deep even before the dinner started, his face was now below the ground. It felt satisfying to get those looks on their faces. Good! They were such assholes. Imagine getting devastated at someone being unemployed? Okay – for the record, being unemployed was devastating but these people weren't sympathizing with that, they found it humiliating in an elitist way– criminal almost. 
You nodded, your lips almost getting tired from stretching them too far.
"Yeah. Anyway, I started working at a local burger joint. You should visit us sometime."
"I'm vegan." Jimin's mom said, her face now drained with the fake joy she's worn all night.
"We have vegan options." you quipped. Jimin once again made a sound beside you, hiding his laughter.
"Wait, really? They offer vegan options at a street burger joint?" Sunghoon, the youngest of the Park brothers, asked.
You almost laughed at the genuine curiosity in his voice. He was still in high school and from what Jimin told you, he was a nice kid. He wasn't very close to any of his brothers, though.
"Nah, it's the only one in town." You bullshit one more time, drinking the wine beside you. "Sorry, can I excuse myself for a minute?"
They nodded and you stood up, heading to the bathroom, brisking once you got out of their sight to get there more quickly.
It was now 10:30 pm – meaning, you had to do something to get Jimin out of here now if he wanted to be on time at the airport to send off Namjoon.
Once you got inside, you looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed. 
This whole thing was sucking the shit out of your soul, but you needed to get through it.
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It took you awhile to finish your pep talk in the bathroom.
If only you could've have locked yourself in there to avoid socializing with anybody, you willingly would. But you were running out of time and unfortunately, you had something to do and that was to fake some illness to get both Jimin and you out of here.
When you got out to approach the family's table one more time, you suddenly stopped in your tracks.
The table was at least fifteen meters away from where you stood, but you could clearly see the side in which Jimin's cousin, Junghyun, sat, facing your direction. He wasn't the issue – no, far from it. It was the guy beside him who wore the same set of black tie as him; the face attached to the body who wore it though, was someone you did not expect to see.
Why the fuck was Jungkook, Unit 446, here?!
From where you were, you could see him engaging with Junghyun and Jimin's parents. You couldn't hear them, of course, but it was clear that they were acquainted – close – even from afar.
Why did he look so comfortable with the Parks? Why was he at the family table laughing and conversing with everybody, including Jimin? Why did he seem like he went to many of these, like this was just another Thursday for him?
There was a waiter who walked past you and you were grateful for it because had it not been the case, people would start to get weirded out about you standing on the same place longer than necessary, looking stoned. That was also an opportunity to run away from the situation without Jungkook possibly seeing and recognizing you.
"I'll take this," You told the waiter and grabbed the glass of champagne and quickly turned on your heels, heading to the opposite side of the family table where the Parks, and apparently, Jungkook were.
You found yourself heading to the bathroom again, your feet seemingly developing a mind of its own as it led you there unconsciously. You knew you'd be in trouble if they found out about you putting the champagne glass in the sink, but you needed to get inside the toilet and think over everything that was happening tonight.
What the fuck. What the fuck!  Again, why the hell was Jungkook here?
As far as you knew, he was just a regular man that happened to be living across from you. He was just supposed to be some guy you were regularly hanging out with nowadays. Your friend. Your crush – whatever! What he wasn't supposed to be is be here at your best friend's mother's birthday party and hanging out with his family!
Your phone dinged, a message notification from Jimin welcoming you.
cuntress #1 [10:32pm]: girl what happened I saw u going back to the bathroom?
You didn't know why it was suddenly too hot, but you felt the balls of sweat starting to form on the side of your forehead.
You [10:33pm]: im going with the diarrhea excuse
cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: tbh idc atp I just wanna go to joon 😔
"Shit!"
Right! Joon. Namjoon. Jimin needed to go to Nmajoon as soon as possible.
cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: also another cousin has arrived u rmr jeon jungkook he's junghyun's brother cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: love this guy but moms starting to compare me to him and I need out right NEOW im justt aking hits after hits jesusssssss
You could just feel the blood draining from your face as soon as you read Jungkook's name in the text.
Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook. Gukka. Kook-a.
That was why the Junghyun guy looked familiar. Because he had the same coloring of Jeon Jungkook. Because they were goddamn siblings.
You started to replay some memories in your head, trying to figure out if you've ever heard Jungkook talk about his family in one of your conversations. But as far as you remembered, he never did. All you knew about him was that he was from the States, and he only got here because of work and he had a dog and as far as you were concerned, his cousin was definitely not Park fucking Jimin, your best friend.
Pacing around the confined space of the toilet, you tried to wrack your brain if you've ever mentioned Jimin to him and in the event that you did, why he never told you that he was his cousin – but you came up blank. Blank because you never told him about your best friend's name... and in turn, Jimin didn't know what Mr. 446's name was, either. They were both genuinely oblivious about the whole thing and couldn't have made you a fool in the situation.
In short, you were the one who was stupid as hell for not connecting the dots sooner.
"Hey, you just landed?"
If it was a private conversation Jimin would've left the room but since he didn't, you decided to stay in bed, kind of listening in to the conversation, but also not, as you turned the volume down of the show you were watching earlier on your laptop.
"Nah, you want me to pick you up?" Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. "Sure, I'm free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?" He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. "Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?"
It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, "Well, my cousin's apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on."
"Fuck me." You hissed, remembering that time when Jimin told you about his cousin staying here for three months because of work.
cuntress #1 [10:35pm]: its either ur taking a guinness world record breaker piss there or u really do have diarrhea now and ur shitting cuntress #1 [10:36pm]: anyway get this, jungkook's gonna be interim cto at your company did u know that??????????????????
You almost dropped your phone upon reading the last message.
What the hell did he mean by that?
Heart beating fast as if it wanted to break out of your own ribcage, you closed your eyes and read Jimin's message once again. There was no way he would be shitting you about any of this. He knew where you worked at and you knew your current company was his uncle's, and now that you knew Jungkook was his cousin...
Shit. Was this what they were talking about at the table earlier? About Junghyun saying his brother was gonna be interim CTO? Did he mean Jeon Jungkook all along? Your freaking neighbor?
Suddenly, you remembered the email you received that afternoon that you never bothered to check again because you simply forgot about it. Who even actually checks their work email? Literally no one. You spend your weeks facing your computer while email flew in like porn ads on a shady website, you weren't about to willingly go to the app and check it on your leisure time.
But maybe you should have.
Fingers involuntarily shaking in their wake as you switched to your work email on your phone, you clicked on the recent unread message that was on top from the HR department.
Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this meeting is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO  for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this ceremony is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department
You knew that feeling when you were just taking hits and hits? This was it.
So not only was Jeon Jungkook Jimin's cousin, he was also gonna be the interim CTO of the company you were currently working at. He was technically going to be your boss, and you would be both working in the same place all the while living across each other where he would see you taking out your trash every Sunday morning in your worn-out highschool PE shirt and pants. He was going to be your boss working at the company you complained to him about on the nights you walked together to your shared apartment complex.
You flirted with Jungkook. You flirted with the guy who was the son of the owner of your whole company building – and not only that, he was your best friend's cousin, to add salt to injury.
You [10:38pm]: jimin we need to get out of here
cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ive been saying
You [10:38pm]: but i cant go out there again. Just tell them i had a problem in the bathroom??
cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ok on it  cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: im kind of convinced u shitted in there tho????????
You rolled your eyes, but at the same time found an opportunity in that. Jimin can't know the truth.
You [10:39pm]: u cant judge me for having a very human experience fuck u the cake i ate earlier was giving cake boss
cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: KJAHFKGSIDFHDSHASFHSKJBF
You [10:39pm]: im literally doing this for u and joon
cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: IKNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!thanks to ur stomach problems cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: im going there
You [10:40pm]: make sure they don't see us again to really sell the whole im-embarassed-thing
cuntress #1 [10:40pm]: ON IT! Were going out the back door I don't think they'll notice
You couldn't even find it in you to laugh a little bit at your silly exchange and scheme, because you were way too stressed about what you just found out.
You let out a controlled, heavy breath, leaning your back on the door and shut your eyes aggressively.
"What the hell am I gonna do after this?"
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PART TWO | ....
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all right reserved © awrkive, 2024. no reposts, modification, and copying allowed. if you enjoy my work/s and have the extra means, please consider supporting me on ko-fi <3
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bbydoll18xx · 3 months
Text
She’s Such a Good Girl (Part 2)
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Paige continues her assault on your innocence, leading you to spiral.
Paige Bueckers x reader
Word Count: 2.7k
Themes: angst in the beginning, Paige being hot and flirty the rest of it woohoo, mentions of being horny oops
Part 1 - You move in across the hall from Paige Bueckers. It doesn’t take long before she tries to shatter your innocent persona. And you just let her.
Masterlist
A/N: I’m so, so grateful for all the love on the first part of this little mini series. Let me know if you are up for a third part:)) I have soo many ideas it's ridiculous
~
You wake up feeling anything but well rested. Your sleep was muddled with dreams of Paige, her smile infiltrating your unconsciousness until you woke up with an uncomfortable stickiness in between your thighs. You groan into your pillow, the general overwhelmingness of last night draining you even more.
Grabbing your phone from your bedside table, you see a text from Paige, and the butterflies erupt inside of you once more. 
‘We’re all planning on going out tonight. You’re coming with us.’
Her bluntness momentarily stuns you, but you were grateful to be included. It seemed she was hell bent on getting you out of your shell, for whatever reason, and you were simply just going to concede. You needed this.
You respond, your heart beating out of your chest, and the anxiety begins to set in. 
It was getting harder and harder to deny the gay feelings you had. And although it had been years since your “oh shit, I’m gay,” moment had dawned on you, this was reaching new heights of awareness. But you had refused to truly accept it thus far.
You had a complicated relationship with your sexuality. Most of the time you had shied away from even acknowledging it; it was too painful. In high school, you were surrounded by other gay people, and it felt like you almost belonged, slowly coming to terms with your sapphism. But as you moved away to college, you were the only one in your friend group who was even a little remotely queer, and you felt isolated by your glaring differences. 
Your religious upbringing did not help the situation either. You quickly learned how to hide your emotions. Slurs were regularly thrown around the dinner table, the nasty words cutting into your being, and your fists would be tightening in your lap, fighting to keep a neutral expression on your face.
You could not give yourself away.
As soon as you could, you’d seek solace in your room, hot, shameful tears sliding down your cheeks, forcing yourself to quiet the sobs erupting through your chest. The words of contempt echoed through your mind, until eventually you had nearly come to believe them yourself. 
Each evening you clasped your hands together desperately in prayer, vehemently struggling with everything you had been raised to know and everything you wanted and needed to feel. It was an eternal battle that raged on inside, slowly withering you into a ghost, haunted by the darkness that had flourished in the absence of support and acceptance.
You wondered what the people who had claimed to love and know you the most, would do if they found out about your dirty, little secret. The anxieties about being outed manifested in cruel dreams, awakening you suddenly, a thin layer of sweat glistening on your body as your chest rose and fell in quick staccato breaths. 
That was something you still wondered today. And you would certainly wonder for the rest of your life. You had vowed that you would never come out to your family unless you truly fell in love with a girl. So you had kept everyone at arm's length to protect yourself. But Paige Bueckers was slowly breaking your walls down, brick by brick. 
A wave of nausea washes over you as you realize that getting closer to Paige meant toying the line of the false heteronormative persona you’ve been carefully crafting since you were a young teenager. The temptation of feeling normal in a group of girls quickly shuts down any immediate worries. That was a problem for another time. 
You hear your roommates in the living room, bustling around without having any idea of your internal battle. With a sigh, you drag yourself out of bed to go out to meet them, already preparing for the deafening noises that would inevitably come with telling them of last night's events. 
You open your door, nearly shuffling your feet against the carpet as you walk out to greet Taylor and Sarah. Their heads turn from the focus on the television, faces set in smiles as they see you emerge from your room.
“Guess what I did last night?” You prompt them, and their faces morph into ones of natural curiosity. 
“Did you read your class syllabuses to get a head start?” Sarah asks sarcastically, and you stick your tongue out at her in false derision. 
“No,” you scoff, although her guess was not completely off base. “I went over and hung out with Paige and the rest of the team.”
Taylor and Sarah were uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. They glanced at each other, momentarily stunned before erupting in hollers, jumping to their feet in excitement. 
“How the fuck did that happen?” Taylor all but yells, still jumping up and down. It was a good thing you did not have downstairs neighbors.
“Well they were being so loud, and I wanted to go to bed, so I knocked on the door to politely ask them to shut up,” you explain, trying to hide the giddiness you felt as you recalled the events of last night.
“And Paige answered and invited me in. And now I’m going out with her and the team tonight,” you finish, carefully watching the reactions of your two best friends. 
Their faces were morphed into ones of sheer delight and astonishment.
“My innocent, little angel is growing up,” Taylor exclaims, pretending to wipe a tear from her eye, and you swat at her, giggling at the sheer hilarity of the situation.
“What am I supposed to wear to a bar?” You ask, and the girls shriek in laughter, clapping their hands and promising to help you get dressed later.
You feel better about everything, the support from your roommates briefly quelling the fears and uncertainties that had plagued your mind for years. And your excitement was a testimony to the effect a certain blonde had on you.
~
“You’ve got great tits. Might as well show them off,” Sarah says exasperatedly, shoving one of her low cut tops at you.
Your face heats up, and you hold up the tiny tank top. “Don’t you think it’s a little, I don’t know, slutty?” Your voice trails to a whisper as you think about purposely showing off your body. 
“That’s the point, girl! It’s finally your time to show everyone what you’re fucking made of. Go be a sexy, bad bitch!” Taylor urges, slapping you on the butt as she does.
You take a deep breath, nodding in agreement, finally pushing yourself further away from the perfect, good girl act that had been placed upon you since you were a child. 
You don the skimpy black tank, admiring the way it shows off your slim waist, and you pair it with tight jeans that accentuate the curve of your ass perfectly. You fluff your hair and add a layer of lip gloss, before taking one last long glance in the mirror.
You could do this.
With a few encouraging words from your roommates and a few slaps to your ass, you nervously make your way across the hall to knock once more on Paige’s door. The door is thrown open, loud cheers erupting as you appear, and KK launches herself at you excitedly, throwing her arms around you and pulling you into her. 
Giggling, you hug her back, your nerves melting away at her friendly disposition. She pulls away, eyeing you up and down with an approving nod. “Someone cooked here,” she smirks, and your face blooms an embarrassing shade of deep red.
“My roommates kind of helped me get dressed,” you admit, hands tugging down your impossibly small shirt. 
“Girl, you look fineee,” she says, rubbing her hands together, causing several of the other girls to cackle at her not so subtle attempt to rizz you up.
“Who looks fine?” you hear a familiar voice, and your head whips in the direction of the question. You see Paige sauntering towards you, and your heart immediately begins to pound as your eyes rake over her tall figure. 
Her hair was down in blonde waves, making you want to reach out and run your hand through the soft-looking locks. Her toned stomach was exposed from her crop top, her abs flashing in a way that had your stomach rolling with an unfamiliar feeling. You couldn’t necessarily put your finger on it, but it shot down in an intense display of unbridled want. And she had the smuggest look on her face, accentuating the plumpness of her bottom lip. Your tongue subconsciously darts out to lick a slow line against your own lip as you watch her approach you.
KK points at you, waggling her eyebrows. “The pretty princess over here.” 
You blush again. Shit, you really had to get that under control. 
Paige hums, looking you up and down once more. “She’s not wrong,” she mutters huskily in your ear as she pulls you in for a hug. Your knees weaken at her touch, and you aren't sure if you’d be able to survive the night. It had just begun, and she had you completely and irrevocably fucked. 
30 minutes later, you, Paige, and the other members of UCONN’s women’s basketball team were shuffling into several ubers to head to a nearby bar. Unsure of which car to get into, you awkwardly stand off to the side, the anxiety pumping through your veins once more, but you soon feel a muscular arm wrap around your waist.
Looking up, you are met with Paige’s blue eyes and that smug smirk, and with a wink, she guides you to the nearest car, helping you into the backseat. As you sit, you adjust your top, overly aware of how much of your chest was actually out. Paige sits next to you, settling in with a low grunt, and she immediately places a hand on your thigh. Your eyes focus on the veins and the length of her fingers, and that feeling in your belly ignites again. 
As you arrive at the bar, Paige helps you out of the car with a chivalrous hand. And it does not leave yours as you enter the doors. She laces her fingers through yours, and you don’t miss the way it feels so damn right. She guides you through the crowds of people, and your breath hitches, feeling slightly overwhelmed from the volume and the hoards of drunk people pushing into your frame. 
Paige notices immediately, and she pulls you closer, tucking you into her side protectively. You preen at the attention, the feeling so foreign but addictive. You needed more, and the idea of it ripped away from you sent an unsettling spike of dread shooting through you maliciously. 
Subtly, you shake your head in a futile attempt to clear the thoughts out of your head. Overthinking was sure to be your downfall. Nothing a little alcohol couldn’t fix, though.
Aside from the occasional glass of wine, you had never really drank. And you certainly had never done shots. But when Nika and Aubrey had thrusted a tray of them towards where you and Paige were sitting, you were quick to grab one, eager to dull the bitter voices in your head. 
You bring it to your face, taking a hesitant sniff that causes your nose to wrinkle, eliciting a fond chuckle from the blonde. “Do I just sip it or…?” You trail off shyly, suddenly very aware of how ridiculous you sounded. What kind of college girl didn’t know how to take a shot?
Paige bites her lip. “Lemme help you, baby,” she mutters in your ear, and she takes the shot out of your hand. “Breathe all of the air out and then swallow it all at once before you take another breath, okay?” 
You nod, letting the air leave your mouth, lips pouting. Without her gaze leaving your mouth, Paige holds up the shot glass, pouring the liquid down your throat in a swift motion. 
You swallow quickly, feeling the burn slide down your throat and settle into a warm pool in your belly. You lick your lips, trying to catch a tiny drop that had slid past your mouth and trailed down your chin towards your neck. 
Before you can chase the trickle, Paige leans in, swiping it with her thumb, placing it into her mouth and sucking, her cheeks hollowing in the process. 
Your face morphs into a look of shock, and she gives you a shit-eating grin. The effect she had on you was something out of a book you spent many lonely nights immersing yourself in. And now that you were living in the crystal clear reality, you regretted not getting out of your shell a little sooner. 
“Can I do another?” You ask, already looking at the tray where a few shots still remained. 
Paige laughs. “Maybe wait a few, princess. The alcohol will kick in soon,” she promises. “You can share mine,” she gestures to her drink, and you don’t miss the way the pet name rolls off her tongue effortlessly. 
Paige was not lying when she had told you that the effects would soon hit you. Before you could even start to feel uncomfortable, a delicious easiness fell over you, loosening you up in a way you had never experienced before. You reach for Paige’s straw once more, pretending that her mouth was not just on it, and you relish in the sweet liquid adding to your tipsiness.
Paige had stayed close all night, similarly to the night before, and you were grateful for her constant presence anchoring you. The other girls took turns dancing with you, showering you with compliments and making future plans. Even through the haze of the alcohol, your heart felt as if it could burst; they were all so nice, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you actually belonged. 
The night flies by, and as it does, you and Paige get more and more touchy. Her hands took turns between trailing down your back and resting heavily on your hips. She played with a lock of your hair, twisting it in her fingers as you swayed to the music, and she was constantly gazing at you through heavy lids, pupils blown from the darkness of the bar and pure want.
Emboldened by the drinks that had graced your lips, you don’t shy away, and before you know it, you’re leaning in closer, intoxicated by more than just the liquor. The bustling crowds and excessive noise surrounding you melts away as Paige grips your waist, pulling you closer into her. 
Your heart pounds at her proximity. She reaches up, cradling your jaw and stroking the soft skin of your neck with her thumb. You wonder if she can feel the thumping of your carotid, but you’re too enthralled in her presence to even care. Her eyes flit between your own and your slightly parted lips. Everything felt so fucking delicate, as if one small move would break everything. 
“Been thinkin’ about doin’ this all night,” she whispers, and pulls you into a kiss.
All the air is sucked out of you as her lips touch yours. And while you are momentarily stunned, it does not take long before yours are moving against her in a delicious exchange of passion. All worries of not being a good kisser leave your mind as Paige moans against your mouth, the sound shooting straight down your belly and to your pussy. Her tongue moves against you, and the feel of it does not help the slick now accumulating in your panties. 
The kiss eventually ends, much to your displeasure, and as you pull away, a giggle erupts from your mouth at the insanity of it all.
You had just kissed Paige Bueckers.
“OOH, P is fucking whipped!” KK shouts over the music, enthusiastically high-fiving Ice and Nika. 
Fuck, you were caught. 
But little did KK know, is that you were pretty fucking whipped, too. With one smooth move, Paige had broken down all your walls, and you were surrounded by the bricks of your carefully crafted innocence shattered around you at your feet. And maybe you could blame it on the alcohol, but you were pretty sure that if Paige made you anything less of a good girl, you were certainly okay with that. 
~
Part 3 - You get drunk off Paige, and confessions come out.
Part 4 - Paige makes you feel so good.
Part 5 - Paige shows you her strap.
The beginning hits a little too close to home I’m so sorry I blacked out while writing it. It’s been almost 9 years since I realized I had feelings for girls, and I still struggle every day with accepting myself. To all the readers who are going through the same thing, I love you, and here’s to hoping things get better. If you ever want to reach out, my inbox is always open.
xoxo katy
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Note
Ahhhh I've been waiting for your requests to open, I've been following you since your first Price fic and never had an idea to request until like 2 weeks ago 😫 so, I've been thinking, what about being in a relationship with Keegan but getting separated when ODIN hits the earth and not meeting again until about 5 years later? 👀 Love your writing, hope you have a great day 🩵 :)
For The Weak And Weary
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PAIRING: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader
SYNOPSIS: When ODIN struck you had thought he had died, sky alight with fire. It had taken years to accept it, much less live with it. But after Dallas falls, would you get a glimpse of your Lover's phantom again?
WORDCOUNT: 6.2k
WARNINGS: Angst, depressive thoughts, PTSD insinuations, gore, wounds, blood, death, canon-typical violence, (1) suggestive joke, alcohol, hallucinations, fluffy reunion, tears, verbal arguments, etc.
A/N: Just because I'm a sucker for sticking to the game timeline I made it ten years, lol. Enjoy, Anon! Very fun prompt.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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You could never make sense of what Keegan went through in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper. It would be pointless to try and wrap your head around it from what little you knew. All that mattered was that when he came back on leave, something in his eyes was…damaged. Hell, he’d only been sixteen—the both of you had known each other since you were kids, you knew when something was wrong.
And this was entirely new to you.
He smiled less and snapped more; got spooked when you dropped something in his family's kitchen like a grenade had gone off. Maybe, you reasoned, he thought one actually had. 
But through it all, you could still see how much he cared about you. When you were old enough you’d both moved into a nice place in the suburbs and started a relationship—a life shared between the two of you. 
You knew he loved you from the way he’d grip you close at night and breathe into your scalp. How when you were sick from the take-out dinner he’d brought home, Keegan would hold back your hair and rub circles into your spine as you threw up. He never shied away from telling you how beautiful you were; prided himself on it. Keegan loved to show you off.
But there were times back then when you wondered if the same Keegan that had been so fulfilled to join Ghosts had died, and, in fact, a phantom was instead puppeting his skin. He was so quiet now.
If you’d known that the world was going to end on July 10th, 2017, you’d have never let him walk out that door angry. You would have grabbed his hand and pressed your lips to his, whispered affirmations into his flesh and sobbed at the cruelty of it all.
“I can’t keep pretending that you’re okay!” You yell, tears in your eyes, at the man standing tense in the kitchen doorway. Blank blue eyes stare lifelessly. “Keegan—this is killing you.” 
It was early morning by then, and the neighborhood was quiet. The house that the both of you had moved into years ago was littered with the remnants of a happy home. Pictures on the walls, dishes in the sink, and freshly baked bread on the counter. All you’d tried to do was give Keegan a hug, slipping your hands around his waist when you’d entered. 
He’d balked back, jerking to the side and nearly elbowed you in the gut before he saw your wide eyes and stopped himself. The way he’d looked at you…how could eyes be so dead?
“You need to talk to someone,” you put your foot down, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know a therapist or…or someone who can get you proper help because I can’t keep acting like I can live like this.” 
Every mission, every time he went away, it always got worse. 
Keegan’s eyes get sharp, hands at his sides clenching. He speaks in a low growl. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink, alright? I’m fine, you just startled me.”
“Bullshit,” your mouth hisses, glaring. “You thought you were back in ‘05.”
The man points at you, strong jaw clenching, “Don’t.”
“Keegan,” you plead, “please, I love you! I don’t care about this, I just want you to be alright. To be able to live your life—”
“What you want is to try and change me!” The black-haired man barks. Your eyes blink in shock. Keegan rarely yelled. “I already told you I was fine, why don’t you get off my back all the time?” His eyes flash, pupils going to slits as his hands shake at his sides. Why did he look scared? Your breath stills, lips slightly open, with tears dripping to the tile. “Fuck, it’s like I can’t come home without you pesterin’ me ‘bout something!” 
A stiff silence falls.
“Kee—” He snaps a hand to his mouth and rubs at his stubble, suddenly unable to look at you.
“...Forget it.” It’s low and shaky how he says it, eyes wide, before he darts into the foyer and slips into his boots. You listen to the sounds of panicked shuffling before the man wrenches open the front door and slams it shut behind him. One of the picture frames falls and hits the ground with a shattering of glass.
You flinch and tense, taking down a terse breath and sniffling tightly. Trying to get your lungs to work properly, your feet take you over to the picture as they feel weak and uneven; a stuttering mess of steps before you bend down. Your fingers bleed as they shift the glass away, taking out the image of you and Keegan on your hike through the mountains. 
Smiling faces mock you, and you break at the bright and open affection Keegan wears as he looks down at you—eyebrows curved up and smirk like a knife to the chest. 
You loved him so much it hurt to breathe when he was away. 
He had needed time, you knew, but what you didn’t know was that time wouldn’t be available. Around noon the world had opened into a ball of fire and death. 27 million dead. Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Houston, and Miami…all gone…at least, that was what everyone in Dallas was telling you. 
When Keegan had been away taking a walk to calm himself, you’d been home alone. The earth caved, the ground shook; houses burst like balloons. By the time you’d crawled from the rubble of your home, all you had was the picture and the clothes on your back. People were screaming—you were screaming. But you knew that you couldn’t stay here if you wanted to survive. 
And then you’d made it to Dallas by sheer luck and the few tricks Keegan had taught you; had thought that he had died in that first strike by the Federation. You carried that guilt and self-hatred for not holding your tongue for a few more hours. 
So much could have been different in these ten years. Better. You never got over him for even a second. 
But the reality was that you couldn’t think about all of that now, because if you didn’t focus on holding your breath you would be dead in the next three seconds. 
Your hand is anchored to the body of your sniper rifle, finger hovering over the trigger as you hide behind the outcropping of rubble in the decimated cityscape; the air is hot and humid despite the weight of the night. It sticks to your skin in a sheen of violent sweat. Yet it’s still not as potent as the blood. 
Teeth gritted, you hold back whimpers as Federation soldiers stalk the grounds, scores of them—legions. An entire army that had breached the walls and executed everyone insight, soldiers, civilians, if it once moved it didn’t anymore. The burning in your shoulder was agonizing, head smashing itself back to the rubble in an attempt to stifle your own ragged need to scream into the night as layers had peeled back to allow a bullet to pass through. 
In the ten years you’d been here, you’d taken up the mantle of quite the sharpshooter; pulling on Keegan’s lessons when he was on leave and wanted to bring you to the firing range. You had even picked a rifle similar to the one back in your destroyed home—held in a plastic case and treated like royalty by your long-deceased lover. It wasn’t the same, but the jet-black Lynx made you steady like the picture in your breast pocket did. 
A reminder of what was lost and why you had picked the knock-off up in the first place.
Footsteps get closer as the sweep of a flashlight cards above your skull, if possible you go even more still, lips pulled in and heart rampaging. There were barked orders and yelling, but no more screaming. 
How long had you been unconscious after taking that shot to the shoulder? Fear was breeding with horror—was…was everyone dead?
Spanish is loudly called not five feet away, and the flashlight leaves as your breath does. You let off a quiet gasp and suck down air greedily. Eyes flashing from one shadow to another, you look for any opportunity to slip away from the city. In the wind, you could smell fire, and taste it on your tongue as you licked your lips. 
All around you can see the limp shadows of bodies and the apartments, large skyscrapers were on fire deep in their frames. The city was entirely lost.
How the federation got into the walls you would never know, though there was concern about the enemy soldiers rounding up civilians outside the walls and executing them. Maybe one cracked before the bullet entered their skull.
You bite hard into your lip to force back your pain. Trying to shoot a rifle would be useless at this point, you might as well have lost the limb. Slinging the gun’s strap over your head, you look back and forth along your visible perimeter, checking for hostiles as you unsheathe your combat knife and cradle your limp arm to your chest. 
If only Keegan could see you now.
Rounds of gunfire make the air burn with urgency, and you take the time to peek out behind as sweat makes a trail down your dirty face, dripping off of your chin as you breathe like a wheezing dog. Your wound needed tending, and you had the med pack on your vest with the supplies, but you can’t do it here.
Where’s safe? If Dallas has fallen…is there anywhere that’s still standing? A location hits your brain as your gaze darts from one abandoned street to another. You take a deep breath and whine as you force your legs to stand and move quickly, feet shifting as quietly as you’re able to make them. 
“Fort Santa Monica.” Now a stronghold, you’d heard US soldiers here talking about the large presence of military power out in California—numbers so great they rivaled those that had lived in Dallas. 
You stumble over a spasming body and slam your uninjured shoulder into the bulk of the building’s wall, groaning loudly like a wounded boar. 
“Fuck!” If you made it out of the city, that would be where you would have to go; to warn them of what was coming. The Federation had found a way inside the Dallas wall, and that meant if they had enough tenacity, they could do it to them too. 
Everything would be done if another city fell.  
Holding your knife tighter, you push off the wall and grit your teeth harder, mind running on that edge of hysteria and forced calm. It’s in these moments where you have to pull on old memories to keep you going—even if they end up hurting more than the open wounds you carry. 
Keegan had his bad moments, but you always got through them together. Years and years of knowing each other inside and out; memorizing bodies and thoughts like they were second nature. He would want you to keep fighting, tell you to get your ass in gear and go…and you would never let him down. 
You owed him that much even if some days you wanted more than anything to join him. 
Blade in hand, you hear muttered speech from up the alleyway and pause, feet splayed but still swaying as you come to a slow stop. Your ears ring at garbled sentences, foreign words spilling into one another. 
Panting, you listen closely, limbs vibrating. More gunfire echoes over the air, screams and death that get ingrained into your head like a brand into sizzling flesh. Skyscrapers burned and buildings fell with great earthquake booms. Everything is under a sheen of distance.
Get out of the city. Get to Fort Santa Monica.
“Kill who I have to,” you slur out, itching at your neck as you leave a trail of blood behind you. A single pair of footsteps walk quickly forward near your corner and you hold your breath, bringing up your knife as pain pounds in your arm. 
Deep blue eyes sit in the back of your mind, counting you down as they always did.
Keep your arm steady for me, Doll, a phantom tells you. Breathe...
When the first shadow of a Fed soldier graces your eyes, you strike. 
It’s roughly nineteen days from Dallas to Santa Monica, and that was if you kept up at a steady walking pace. If the crude sling you’d fashioned from bandages found in your med pack was any indicator, it would be double that. 
On the first day, you had hiked half-dead over the destroyed landscape of what remained of the USA, licking your wounds and counting your losses. You’d had your pick of abandoned houses, taking a red brick one just because it looked nice and you were about to pass out from blood loss. The only reason you’d made it this far was that the bullet had thankfully passed right through you, making sure that if you moved too suddenly no more damage was being done internally. You packed it with a sterile rag.
Sitting in the home, pictures gathering dust on the fireplace mantle, you tipped back a bottle of whisky you’d found in one of the bedrooms, grimacing at the sting. It was better to be drunk for what you were about to do. 
Heating up your combat knife in the fire you had started in the hearth, you watched the metal grow an eye-flinching white as you stared off into nothingness. 
“You remember when you showed me that scar, Keegan?” You always talked to him. Others had given you shit for it, but they knew the purpose. If you didn’t talk to someone, even a ghost, you would give up. 
The guilt was eating you alive, and it would overtake you eventually. Hadn’t in ten years, but it would…you knew it, everyone did. 
Keegan was everything, and nothing looked the same when you lost him.
“The one on your thigh?” Pulling the knife back, you turn to the leaking flesh of your shoulder, gushing blood as black desecrates the sides of your eyes. You’d taken off your vest and shirt. If you tried hard enough you could imagine Keegan standing in the corner, watching. Always watching. “You said you had to dig a bullet out and cauterize the wound—when I asked you said you barely felt it over all the adrenaline.”
The ghost tilts its head, eyes sad and lips pulling taunt. Your lungs take in a shaky inhale and your hand quivers; only you feel how your eyes burn with unshed tears. 
“I never thought about it before,” right as you growl and shove the knife into your skin, you bark out in fear, “But I think you were fucking lying!” 
On day two, you knew you had to avoid the remains of Fort Worth, so you decided to increase your distance and cut that landmark out entirely—too many remnants of Federation. They were everywhere now, and you needed to keep low; get out of Texas. You scavenged properties and took stock. 
Four magazines for your Lynx, a pouch with five protein bars, one bottle of water attached to your belt, and your knife. Normally you’d have a pistol at your thigh, but you’d used it up in the firefight back home. When you’d woken back up, it had been gone.
And, of course, you had the picture. You kissed Keegan’s face and placed it back in your breast pocket, caressing the material softly before clearing your throat and addressing the obvious. 
With what you had getting to California was a pipe dream. 
You’d been on the radio all day, clicking through channels and pleading for anyone alive to reach out. Nothing. Static. 
I’m the only one left. The thought was intoxicating, pounding in your skull like your hangover. Everyone is dead. 
While you had become somewhat of a loner in the last ten years, especially with the few months you’d been by yourself in the beginning, Dallas had given you a chance to build bonds again. Ten years, and in an instant it was all wiped out. 
It rang a devastating bell.
Somehow, you had cheated death where so many others had failed—not only in Texas, but back with ODIN too. You had survived, but somehow Keegan hadn’t. 
Keegan, the one who never spoke about ‘05 and jerked awake from nightmares years later because of it. Keegan, who wanted nothing more than to stay at your side when he was home and keep you on his chest when watching movies. Keegan, the love of your life.
The only love of your life. 
“I really wish you were here,” you mutter, grimacing as your arm gets jostled as you stumble over a piece of rusted metal in the empty street. “Who gave you the right to go away before me, huh? We were supposed to grow old together, Russ. You promised me that.” 
Garbage gets blown over the road when a hot breeze shifts the air, bringing the scent of dirt and the noise of rustling trees. Nature has reclaimed the towns and suburbs—great patches of ivy and long grass that rise to your hips. But the silence was a curse.
The only thing keeping you going is the thought of delivering your warning to Santa Monica, from there…
Your lips thinned. What even was there left? How many times could you go from one place to another, starting over with stories of your past and having to brush the pitying looks off as you fake a smile? 
Shaking your head, you recall memories from the better days as the light gets low in the sky. 
“You’re doin’ too much, Sweet Thing,” Keegan mutters, and you turn from the stove top with a bright smile to face him. 
He had just gotten out of the shower, towel ruffling through his dark hair as he stands in the kitchen entrance and watches you cook for him. The shirt hangs off of his wide shoulders, and gray sweatpants are loose over his formed hips—his strong brow line raises in a casual expression. 
“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it,” you tease, hearing his low chuckles as you turn back to your pan. “You look good, y’know.” 
“Oh, yeah?” Keegan grunts, smirking, and his feet pad over to you, tossing the towel to the counter as his presence looms over your back. Large hands grab onto your hips and a nose burrows into your hair; inhaling deeply before gradually melting to the curve of your spine. 
You smile and hum, pushing back so you can rest on his chest. A chin sets itself on your head, deep massaging fingers making you pur as they bunch your sleep shorts.
It was late—nearly two in the morning. Keegan had only gotten home a short while ago, but sleep wasn’t going to stop you from spoiling him. A wine bottle was on the island counter, two glasses, and the food was nearly done from what you could scrounge up on short notice.
“...Good to be back,” the man grumbles into you, kissing your head and slowly sweeping his arms around your waist as you sighed softly at the contact. 
Your face gains heat. 
“Well, I’d sure hope so, or else this would be awkward.” You huff to hide the bright smile in your voice. But like a moth to flame, you hear, as well as feel, Keegan chuckle against your spine. His grip squeezes you for a moment. 
“How was it when I was away?” He asks as you move around the contents in the pan, nose brushing your neck as his lips travel to kiss behind your ear. He breathes against the flesh as his low rasp makes you shiver. “Any trouble?”
“Negative, Sergeant,” you raise a brow and smirk over your shoulder at him, seeing his blues spark as he gazes hard into your eyes. A faint twitch to his lips is what you get before his hand captures your cheek; anchoring your face as he descends to connect his mouth to yours.
He sighs into it, arm still around your waist—tight as if you were a pillow. 
“Keep talkin’ like that and we won’t have to wait long for dessert, will we?” 
Days three through seven were uneventful beyond the constant agony of your arm and tired legs, but on day eight amid a waterless walk in the sweltering heat was when the hallucinations began. 
Keegan walks beside you, his footsteps mirroring your own as sweat pools down your forehead and drips off your nose. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you—he just walks, looking exactly like he did the day he died. 
At first, you’d flinched back and blinked wildly at the sight, panting, but then he’d disappeared and your heart had shattered. It worried you with what you were seeing, but it was also a strange comfort to be able to ramble to…something, even if it wasn’t real. Hungry and with a dry tongue, you were on the verge of calling it quits.
So on day eleven, without a wild animal in sight to give you a proper food source and all the water having to be purified, you started talking to him while licking the inside wrapper of your last protein bar. 
“But I never understood why you hated sleeping in shirts,” you licked your lips to get the remnants of granola off of your flesh, pushing away the greasy sheen from your cheeks. Your arm was burning up—every heartbeat was felt as it moved the skin around red and infected flesh up and down. Puss was leaking out from the crude stitches you had made of embroidery thread from that first house you’d found. 
“And you always kept the room freezing.” Continuing, you drop the wrapper to the ground and then take the meat of your fingers and get what little flavor you can off of them, grunting through realization. “That was a ploy to have me use you for heat, wasn’t it? Jesus.” 
The man in the corner of your vision smirks, tilting his head and chuckling from where he leans against a tree trunk. 
“Yeah, that’s right. Knew it.” Glaring at nothing, you stand from your overturned stump and nearly fall right back over, stomach yelling at you as your vision swirls. 
You dig a hand into your hair and grip at the strands, pulling and groaning. “...God.” 
Keegan comes over and stands above you, your eyes staring down at his feet as you get light-headed. You focus on his shoelaces, counting the Xs and taking down shaky breaths. When you blink like a cat with dirt on its face, the shoes are gone entirely and you stand back up to your full height.
“...Keegan?” You ask after a moment, the words disappearing into the trees, but no one’s around. 
Your sight goes to your wound and your jaw tightens, moments of clarity slipping in as a knife would into your consciousness before the curtain settles once more. 
You bend over and vomit what little nutrients you had, spending day twelve sleeping through a fit of nightmares and fever-induced delirium.
Nothing about the remainder of the time you can recall to memory—bits and pieces always flash through on long nights, but they’re only walking montages. Dragging feet, looking at your hand as if it was a foreign object as you turned it back and forth; everything in a sheen of sickness. Days and days and days. Little food. Less water. 
More than one-thousand miles.
But somehow, the Wall peels out in front of you as you crash through the foliage, your body giving out and collapsing down a large decline. Bouncing and getting jostled by rocks, you come to a stop without the strength to get back up, staring blankly ahead as your head connects with concrete. Your mouth is open in broken inhales, pain not even registering. 
Shouts echo, the pound of rapid feet. 
Green eyes meet yours, a youthful face with a beanie and stubble. He’s saying something to you, glancing over your gear and your obvious near-death situation—his hand jostles the side of your face. But your eyes shift behind him gradually, attention falling to someone more important. 
Before you finally let yourself rest, you stare at the smiling face of your steadfast phantom.
The doctors and nurses at Fort Santa Monica were nice, if a bit secretive about the entire operation. Seeing as you weren’t an official soldier, no dog tags or patches—no name in the database—everyone was a bit hesitant to tell you anything. 
Until you said you were from Dallas, of course. 
But no one was eager to rush you in your state, even if the information was dire. You had been hooked up to an IV and bedridden for a week straight; talking to nothing on account of the dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. Some days you spend unconscious. 
But what really pissed you off when you got back into it, was the fact that they had taken your Lynx and your gear—your picture.
You’d almost grappled onto the first nurse you’d seen when you’d woken without it. It was a beacon, your prized possession of damaged corners and taped tears. Water damage that may or may not have been from sobbing fits in the first five years. 
In fact, that was the entire reason you had snuck out so late in the first place. 
Stalking down the hallway in the white shirt and camo pants that had been given to you on the fifth morning you had woken up here, you pad along with no shoes, only plain gray socks. You limp with bandaged flesh all along your healing shoulder and your feet. 
The doctor had explained that you’d entirely skinned the bottoms and your heels were a mess of blisters and open wounds. 
“Take my property,” you grumble under your breath, shuffling along and rubbing at the back of your neck. “What gives them the right?” 
You weren’t going to stop until you found it. 
Reading the name tags on the walls, you silently wonder where they would have taken your stuff as you slip out of the medical ward, listening to the buzzing of the lights and frowning. As you’re limping along the next hallway, a man suddenly turns the corner on nearly silent feet. 
“Woah!” You halt immediately, heart jumping in your chest. A hand catches your shoulder before you run headlong into him. 
Green eyes lock with your own, wide and blinking quickly. Brows furrow and you’re quickly looked over before a slow, teasing remark enters the air, you listen with a growing heat on your neck.
“Y’know, I could have sworn you were supposed to be in bed, Ma’am. I miss something here?” The man who had found you. 
“Wouldn’t know,” you say blandly, blinking up at him and taking a careful step back. This brunette had a casual air to him—still in his gear despite the time. He folds his arms and tilts his head at you, smirking. “If you’ll excuse me.” 
You begin to walk forward, slipping past him and hoping you won’t get snitched on. Except it seems you’ll be having a shadow, as not a few seconds later a smooth chuckle meets your ears and the man walks beside you. 
“I think I’ll be taggin’ along if you don’t mind. Security and all.” He turns to face you, sticking out his opposite hand. “Hesh.”
“That supposed to be some kind of nickname, Kid?” You raise a stiff brow but participate in the handshake nonetheless. His grip is firm but not hard. 
Hesh blinks at you, eyes swimming with amusement before he shrugs in a boyish way and shakes his head with a laugh. “Hell, you remind me of someone, Ma’am.” A moment passes in silence as you study the area. The man huffs, “Where exactly are we off to?” 
“Wonderland,” your lips grumble, tired and wanting to sleep but not until you find your picture. Hesh sighs but you can still hear the hilarity inside of it. 
“Alright then…don’t know if you’re going to be finding a shrinking potion anytime soon, though. We’re in low stock.”
“Very funny,” your eyes send a dry look, but you relent when he prods you with his eyes, taking a corner. “I’m looking for my vest.” Hesh blinks at you in curiosity, letting you elaborate as you motion to your upper shoulder. “My pouch has some of my personal belongings. I don’t like being away from it.” 
“Oh,” the brunette nods a few times, his beanie jerking along. “Yeah, that’s no problem.” A hand is waved and you stare in confusion as he pivots. “C’mon, I’ll get you there.” 
Your eyes burn into his back before you immediately speed after. 
“Why so eager to help?” Hesh smirks at your question. 
“As I see it, if you went over nineteen days of hard hiking just to get to us, you should at least be able to keep your stuff on you, Ma’am.” Your lips flicker in a smile. 
“You’d be the first.” You tell him your name and miss the slight emotion it provokes in his eyes, head lightly pulling to the side but ultimately saying nothing. Hesh shrugs with a grunt, leading you to a meeting room on the opposite side of the building. 
Yelling is on the other side.
“Elias, how long has this been kept from me?!” The voice makes your head perk, evoking something inside of your chest. Hesh seems taken aback too, holding up a hand to you for momentary silence—not that you had to be told. 
“Keegan, I can’t have that happen. She needs to recover and you being there could jeopardize that. We need what she knows about Dallas.” Your body stills to a near-frozen state, and it’s comedic how your entire face falls to a blank slate. Wait a second.
…Keegan?
“She belongs with me—I thought she fucking died and she’s been here for who knows how long?! Why wasn’t I informed?” Rampaging feet suddenly sound off, going to the door at break-neck speed.
“Son, that’s not a good idea. This is what I was worried would happen if you found out.”
“I didn’t exactly ask, did I? As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters besides getting back to my Girl,” the bark is ferocious and violent, more of an animal’s than a man’s. “Now where the hell did you put her before I tear this damn fort apart and—” You shove at the door before Hesh can grab you, throwing it open and letting it hit the opposite wall with a great boom of wood. 
Your wild eyes instantaneously lock into sharp blues, pulse pounding in your ears. It’s like all the air is taken from your lungs in a great punch. 
Oh, he’s so similar to how you remembered him to be ten years ago. 
Keegan stands only a few feet away, turned in your direction with his eyes so wide and small you might faint. There’s black face paint in his sockets, making the cerulean all the more bright and shocking to the senses. He’s still tall, still built, if only a bit more rugged than when ODIN struck—there are lines on his forehead and his scars are more faded. Small differences in the way he holds himself like the difference between a rabbit and a hare. Keegan’s black locks are shorter now, but still…his.
Lips part in silent shock, an entire halt of your nervous system. 
The entire universe holds its tongue as you two stare at each other; walls and rooms blur into a mess of matter and reality—this couldn’t be real. 
Keegan’s feet shift for a moment as if to steady himself as his fingers twitch. In his hand, he holds your picture, his body covered in gear and weapons. He blinks as you tell yourself he’s a phantom, simply that same ghost come back to haunt you as tears sting the backs of your eyes. But then he speaks, and it’s the same voice you had slowly lost the ability to remember in year three. 
“...Sweetheart?”
His ghost never spoke. His ghost could not imitate the phonics of his speech or the rhythm of his throat. His ghost could not make you recall the memories you’d long since boxed up.
You jerk forward just as he does, bodies colliding into a feral grip of flesh and fabric, hands latching and faces burying. Sobs rip from you as Keegan’s shaky breath echoes right next to your ear—his chest hitching and arms snatching your waist and lifting you up as easily as he always had. He holds you up without any thought of putting you down, legging your legs dangle as Elias slowly exits the room and corrals a highly confused Hesh with him.
The door shuts, but neither of you notices. 
“Keegan—” Your voice is high with emotion, hardly believing what you're seeing—what you’re touching. “Oh, my God.” 
He had been alive all this time? Ten whole years and you’d thought he was dead. But by the way he was barely letting you breathe from in his iron clutch, you imagined Keegan had thought the same about you. It was…incomprehensible. 
“Shh,” he whispers, his shushes cracking and flinching between broken gasps of your name. “Shh.” He sets you down on the floor only to have his firm hands travel to your cheeks, turning your head to each side in a desperate need to understand if you were really there.
Keegan’s eyes are wet, but no tears let themselves fall quite yet. 
“I’m so sorry!” You hiccup and the man kisses your cheeks—your browline and nose. Every piece of you he can as you both stay so intimate you might melt into one another. “I thought you were gone, I-I should have stayed and looked for you, I didn’t—”
“You’re alive?” Keegan’s hands rub across your body, gripping and tugging you closer and closer. “My Girl’s alive?” 
His tears drip to your face as he hovers above you, and you both shake with the weight of years. 
“Me?” Your chuckle through sobs—you want to scream and wail at the same time. Blue eyes flutter and ragged breaths puff on your forehead. “What about you, you asshole?” 
Keegan shakes his head, and you stare deeply into him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he sags forward. He had stubble now, spreading out to grate your flesh. 
The man forces a weak huff. 
“Christ,” is all he mutters before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss so unyielding you expect to have your air stolen. Ten years to feel him kissing you again—to feel his warm flesh under your hands and his heart rampage into you. 
You’d do it all over if it still amounted to this.
Your body shivers and you reciprocate with just as much fervor; this emotion of relief is so overwhelming and all-consuming that it makes your head light. You suck down quick breaths between the sensation of your lips meeting, Keegan doing the same. 
Unconsciousness was better than letting him leave again, your lover sharing that sentiment as chests slid against one another. Soft hair slips through your fingers as you grip Keegan’s hair, cascading through locks as he groans into your lips and tries to hide his tears from you. 
He pulls away and immensely shoves his head into your neck. 
“You’re here,” he whispers quickly. A hand quivers at the back of your head as your tears wet his gear. “You’re right here. You came back to me, didn’t you, Doll?” 
You cry, “I’m here, Keegan.” The man sobs when he hears you say his name, his knees giving out as you both fall to the floor and not letting the other move beyond the caress of skin and lips.
“I missed you,” Keegan gasps, “so much. Don’t you understand? I was nothing without you. You took it all from me, everything. Every damn thing.” 
You press kisses to his neck and racing pulse, healing him inside and out without even realizing it; it was only fair, he was doing the same back to you. 
The picture lays long forgotten on the floor.
“Never let me go,” your voice forces out, as he rocks you back and forth like a child. “Never again, Keegan. Please, I love you too much to go through that again.”
“Never,” he immediately promises, pulling back and kissing your lips again—neither can stop themselves from this. Blues eyes blink quickly, cataloging your face and every little blemish he’d have to relearn and study; to find the story behind. Keegan had never been happier. He felt like he might break from it. “Over my dead body, I’m never lettin’ you out of my sight. You’re stuck with me.”
You laugh genuinely for the first time in ten years and say you’d like nothing better as he pulls you back in and plants his mouth to yours in reverent worship. His arms trapping you to him as yours do just the same.
Not to leave again anytime soon. 
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gommyworm · 2 years
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:^l
#winter is the worst thing to exist ever#i feel like apologizing for being negative but also like this is my blog .... so whatever#anyways these past weeks have been a living hell i havent been so close to swerving into oncoming traffic in a while#regulsr depressions being acting up like a bich bc i havent seen anyone other than my family in weeks#i wake uo at 6 whatever am. go to work. go home. make dinner for my family. sit and read webcomics for a bit. go to sleep.#havent even been sleeping well lmao one of the onky pleasures in my life is being unconcious so this sucks#i had skating classes once a week but that last last thursday so like i dont even get that anymore#and i dont have any monry to sign myself uo for anything else bc i gotta give my mom 1k and i need to pay my credit card n student loans#anyways regular depression + seasonal depression + pmsing like fucking crazy + got in a fight w my mom again#bc shes telling me to get married lmfao but like i dont even leave the house ? im too busy taking care of her kids ?#and i dont even have money to do fun things bc im too stressed about giving her money for my shit head brother ? also i have no friends ?#friend 1 lives in a city 8 hrs away fridnd 2 scheduke doesnt line up w mine often and hes got exams n shjt also hes dealing w his own stuff#friend 3 is my ex who my mom would literally kill me if she knew i was seeing lol so like my options are very limited !#anyways either im gonna have to leave the country or kill myself soon bc i cant live like this for too much longer#i keep telling myelf like oh when the kids are a bit older i can finally leave but like goddd i cant do this for another 3 years#i have literally nothing to live for i hope i die soon#gommywords#sorry if u are one of my 3 aformentioned friends n u read this shit lol i dont have the courage or strength to talk to ppl about things
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siddyyyyyyyy · 15 days
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Hiii I’m obsessed with your blog! Can you do one where Jason thinks that the reader is cheating on him with dick but it turns out dick is just teaching her self defense hehe
Don't tell Jason
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Jason Todd x Reader
wc: 1.1 K summary: Jason thinks you're cheating, almost becomes a murder again, finds out you are just learning self-defense with Dick warnings: some violence, some insults a/n: THANKYOU FOR LIKING MY BLOG!!!!11!!1! this request is so funny actually, i really like it. hope you enjoy it! (divider @saradika)
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It's the second time since last week that you're coming home exhausted and slightly disheveled from some hangout. He knows you've been hanging out with his older brother, and he trusts you both a lot, but this is getting strange. Muscle ache and soreness by your thighs and arms? Just what did you both do to be this worn out? Jason actually doesn't want to think about it, but he is pretty concerned that something is happening behind his back.
It doesn't make it better that you just pretend nothing is happening and seem to be yourself as usual. Is he really that better than him? No, you would never cheat on him. You promised to never leave him and all that after all. But he also can't ask you directly and accuse you of something like cheating. Jason's already dreading the truth and the way you'll look at him once he mentions it.
Laying in bed beside you, he massages your thighs gently with his warm hands, apparently sore after hanging out with Dick. Just what is this dickhead doing with you? The second time in a row as well. A sick feeling spreads in his gut as he thinks more about it, eventually nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck to calm down while continuing his soothing motions across your thighs.
The evening ends up with you both falling asleep as usual, however Jason has made up a rough plan. He needs to find out the truth. He could technically just ask you directly and stop overthinking, see if his suspicions are true or not. But no, he doesn't want to come off as desperate or stupid in front of you. It took him a lot of time to open up and be vulnerable with you in the first place, then having introduced you to his family once he was forced to. About a year after you started dating, you met his family in a rather chaotic dinner. But you didn't seem to mind, actually seemed to enjoy his big family and could make easy friends with all of them. Hell, even Damian doesn't seem to mind you.
Once you told Jason you'll be heading out with Dick again, he made sure you didn't notice him following you getting to the manor. He was surprised as you walked in with your own key, not having realised you had a key to the manor in the first place. Shrugging it off, he follows inside, well... rather breaks in, so you won't notice him being right behind you.
He stays in the hallway and watches you walk further into the house, cocking his head to the side once you go into the elevator that's usually used to get to the Batcave. Whatever this is, he is having even more thoughts and doubts, getting an even worse feeling about it all. Have you been hiding a secret identitiy from him and are teaming up with Dick? Why didn't you tell him when you know about his own vigilante-family-circus. He needs to know more. He needs to find out.
He follows right after once the elevator doors open again, getting spooked by Alfred.
»Master Jason. What's the occasion?«
The butler looks as neutral as always, but he can see the hint of a smile in his expression. Are they all teaming up against him? »Oh, Alfred... nothing, just, uh... just a small visit. Yeah... I'll be right back.«
Jason quickly steps into the elevator and presses the button to the Batcave, feeling a bit victorious that he could escape this poor distraction attempt. Now it's time to finally find out what this is all about. His fists clench and unclench, trying to keep his cool and not throw up from all this overthinking and possible situations.
The doors open and he basically storms out as quick as a bullet, halting once he hears heavy panting and small praises. He could never mistake your voice for someone else's and his heart sinks into the floor as he listens more to it. This is bad. Really, really bad.
Jason follows from where the sounds come from, being a little confused on why you're both in the Batcave. Sure, it's probably thrilling to possibly get caught, but... seriously, the Batcave? He didn't know you were into that kind of stuff.
He finally figures out where all the panting is coming from, arriving at the training area. He peeks from the corner, feeling his heart almost explode in his chest. But what he sees is entirely different from what he thought.
Dick is standing in front of you with his hands extended for you, both of your knuckles being bandaged up. You are throwing punches at his hands, focusing on your form and stance, while he gives you some feedback and occasional praises. It seems that you are both concentrated and focused, not noticing him at all and just continuing with... what even are you doing? It doesn't really look like a sparring session. But it also doesn't look like anything he imagined you two would be doing.
Eventually, he steps up and clears his throat loud enough to get both of your attention and stop for now. You light up once you see him, smiling and immediately start talking.
»Jason! Look, we've been training together, I asked him if he could teach me self-defense and he's been teaching me since last week. I'm pretty good at it, I can throw punches, kicks and get out of several pins or locks. He said I'm a natural.«
You decide to ignore his scowl and deathly glare towards Dick as you explain and walk up to him. Jason glances to you and can't help but soften up as he sees your smile, also stepping up to you and wrapping his arm possessively around you.
»You couldn't have asked me?« He questions and keeps his sharp eyes on Dick, who winces lightly at the sight of his brother tearing him apart with his gaze. He takes the sign however and takes a few steps away, leaving you some privacy.
»You are so busy with other stuff, I didn't want to bother you any more than necessary. I was planning on asking you, but Dick is also a great teacher.« You answer him as you lean into his side, stretching your arms, looking up at him.
»Oh, I'm sure.« He grits out and finally tears his eyes away from his brother, looking back to you with a softer expression. Seems like he was indeed overthinking and thinking lowly of you. There's no way you would cheat on some prick like Dick. You notice he still seems to be more on edge, tilting your head at him.
»What did you think we were doing?« You narrow your eyes at him, making him gulp down and start to feel even more stupid.
»Nothing!« Jason manages to answer you quickly, earning a scoff and slap against his chest in return.
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a/n: RIP Dick Grayson, you'll be missed. Cause of Death: Missunderstanding from Jason. Hope you enjoyed it!
←MASTERLIST
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x-hotoke · 2 months
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HEADCANNON jjk men as your sister's ex-boyfriend
writer's note: male reader insert !! PART 1 >,<
warnings: slight yandere themes, stalking, possessiveness, toxic relationships, use of you/your pronouns, cussing.
characters: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, choso, itadori yuji.
— GOJO SATORU
You warned your sister about him yet she never did take anything you say seriously because you were her younger brother. Who are you to say who she can't and can date?
At first, their relationship was going great — he also spoiled you along with your sister which you didn't like. His cocky and egotistical personality is what you hated about him. His constant reminder that he bought that for you, irritated you to the point you have been throwing them discreetly.
He would call you a bunch of nicknames like brother-in-law, y/n chan (to piss you off), otōto-kun.
Whenever he would visit, you would purposely make him look bad in front of your sister, trying to make him angry at you so she can see his true colors. But he was calm — would always humor you, it's like he knows you're trying to get a rise out of him.
After a while, both of them started to drift apart from each other; resulting in a break up — he tried to salvage their relationship by making her go to his house and 'talk it out', luckily you were there trying to comfort her. Seeing the notifications from him, you deleted the messages and blocked him from her phone.
As days went on, unknown phone numbers started calling and messaging the two of you — mostly your sister. Begging for her to come back, and that they'll talk it out and fix it. But oh - for you? They were horrible — you were terrified of going outside. Only going out whenever you were with your father. You don't let your sister go out too, in fear — that Satoru will make his messages come true.
The messages ranged from being sweet to an absolute creepy obsessed guy. It went from:
“How's your sister doing, y/n chan?" “Can you tell her to reply to me soon?” “I miss you guys:((” “When can I see you guys again?” “I hope you're taking care of yourself and your sister well (:”
To; “i will make your lives a living hell, do you hear me? I will fucking ruin your lives.” “No one will believe any of you.” “is that your friends that you're with?” “tell your sister to reply or else i will plaster her face, no, her fucking body on the billboards.” “You look cute when you sleep, otōto kun.”
You didn't feel safe in your own house anymore, did he break in your room? Paranoia affected your high school life — constantly looking over the shoulder. Heck, you would freeze whenever someone with the same blue eyes as him stared at you for too long.
Your sister was overjoyed when she got a message from Satoru — apologizing on how he acted towards her and you. You didn't bring up the messages he would send you during family dinner in fear that your parents would get roped in the situation you were in.
Months went by, your parents said that they have a guest coming in — a friend of your sister. You were in the living room watching some show you were interested in before the door bell rang.
“Satoru! It's nice of you to stop by.” Your sister claims, ushering the tall male to take the seat to you. You weren't aware that he was the guest, oh how you wanted to run upstairs to your bedroom just to get away from this freak. She forgave him?
“Y/n chan, long time no see.” Satoru spoke, his piercing blue eyes staring at the top of your head as you looked at your lap, glaring. “Y/n, you should at least reply - you know?” Your sister huffed out, the bags under her eyes were gone unlike yours.
“It’s fine, really. I'm just glad to see you again.” Satoru waved her off, throwing his right arm around your shoulders as he leaned in next to your face. “No way of getting out of this one huh, otōto kun?” He whispered into your ear, making the hair at the back of your neck stand. There's no escaping this one. “Move and they die.”
His feelings were gone — the obsession he had for your sister moved onto you.
— GETO SUGURU
He was a sweet guy, you actually almost liked him for your twin sister. Keyword: almost.
You hated the man afterwards — His true colors showing once their relationship got serious, you would hear how he would talk to your sister — calling people; monkeys. Berating her for having a different opinion than him and constantly hovering over her shoulder.
You had enough and stormed inside her room, yelling for him to get out or you'll drag him by his hair out the front door. The man complied — once he got close to you, he smiled. It wasn't sincere — it looked psychotic.
The next few days went horrible, Suguru kept on coming back and every time he would — you would answer the door.
“Some nerve of you to show your fucking face here.” You scowled, feeling a shiver go up your spine — seeing the guy smile makes you want to hide yourself. He chuckles, a glint in his eyes catching your gaze, you don't know what it was but you don't intend on finding out.
“I’m here to visit s/n, so if you would be a dear — please call her, love.” He closed his eyes as he smiled even wider. You felt disgusted by his behaviour. ��Don't ever call me that again, you freak!” You shouted.
“Fuck off — you two broke up days ago! If I ever fuckin’ see you again around our house, I'll make sure you'll regret it.” You added, closing the door harshly in his face. He didn't do anything, just stood there for a few seconds before turning around and leaving.
As you have read, he likes calling you nicknames. Such as; love, dear, anything that can make your blood boil. He knows you hate him so why not put more gasoline in the fire?
Days passed and you were hanging out with a few friends. You left your sister with your parents to catch up with the rest of your friends. It's been a long time.
You shared some laughs with your friends before noticing something in the corner of your eye. A man dressed in a black sweater and sweatpants amidst the hot season, you couldn't shake off the feeling of paranoia and fear running through your veins. You didn't let that ruin the fun — and yet still keeping an eye on him who was sitting on a bench. But it could just be your imagination.
A few months went by and your sister brought Suguru home. Claiming that he was getting therapy and whatever help he could get. But nothing would suffice the Polaroid pictures of your sister and you in his personalized room. No one can save him.
His second plan — plan B, if your sister was still holding her ground and not taking his advances towards her — he would take you instead. To fill in her spot, her twin. You're her twin after all aren't you? Basically her look alike. That's what he likes about the two of you.
You heard from your mother that your sister has gotten back together with him. You argued with her that night — something you regretted on the next day.
She was gone. Her drawers were laying on the floor scattered — some clothes looked like they were thrown around carelessly and her bags were nowhere to be found. Did she run away? If so — then where. The police filed her in as a runaway but they did still look for her with fruitless attempts.
You would cry in her room for days, curling up in her bed and looking through all her stuff. You stumbled across her diary which had a few disturbing things. Your breath hitched as you read it. She didn't run away — suguru wasn't going to therapy either. It was all a set up, the last pages contained;
He's here.
You froze hearing the window creak open. You didn't have time to react before a black garbage plastic bag was placed over your head.
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waterfae · 1 month
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Kill My Lord Husband [Part 1]
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Summary: Your father has decided to marry you off – and to a Blackwood no less! But you want nothing to do with the famously known Bloody Ben, not when your heart already belongs to another. Your solution? Kill your lord husband.
Pairings: Benjicot “Davos” Blackwood x Reader, Aeron Bracken x Reader
Warnings: !MINORS DNI! canon-typical violence, adult language, slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, arranged marriage, house-neutral fem!reader, no use of Y/N, absolute nonsense, no beta
Word Count: 1.7+ K
Part: 1 | 2
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“A marriage proposal has been accepted.”
With wide eyes, you looked up from your dinner plate and towards your father, “A marriage proposal?” Your voice shook slightly and your heart raced with anticipation. There was only one man you could think of at this moment who had any interest in marrying you – you in him – and the thought of that particular man made it feel as though your entire body was ascending up to the heavens. At long last, your hidden lover had gotten the courage to seek out your father and ask for your hand. You tried to contain your knowing smile as you took a sip from your cup and played off your excitement. You asked a follow up, though you arrogantly foresaw the answer, “And to whom, may I ask?”
“Benjicot Blackwood.”
You spit out your wine; confidence immediately deflated and your ascension halted as a great monstrosity reached out and pulled you back down into the depths of hell. That was not the name you expected to come from your father’s lips.
“Benjicot Blackwood?!” You sputtered while your handmaiden rushed forward to assist with the mess you made, “You choose for me to subjugate myself, my future, my happiness...to House Blackwood?” Panic set in, evident by the rising shrill and breathiness of your voice, “You can’t be serious?”
“What is wrong with the Blackwoods?” Your father asked, oblivious to the extremity of your anguish and continued to cut into his roasted duck, “They have long been our friends, a good family with good standing –” he paused to place a piece of the meat into his mouth, “You will be well taken care of.”
“That may be, but –” You attempted to interject, but were stopped with a casual wave of his fork.
“Benjicot Blackwood will be Lord of Raventree Hall once his father passes and you, its Lady.” He looked upon you with proud eyes, “Is that so bad a future?”
You stared at your father incredulously and tried to hold his gaze, but were unable to do so. Not when he was looking at you with such delight on his features, as if he had just done something exceptional rather than damning. It was far from what you genuinely desired. Still, you replied, eyes downcast, “No, of course not.” Because it was the truth. Any woman of the realm would be fortunate to marry into such an old and noble house. There was no denying that. “I just thought…” Your voice trailed and you swallowed back the words, for if you said them out loud, it would mean the future that you had planned for yourself was now truly lost.
“Thought what?” He asked once he realized you were not going to complete your statement, “Of your little Bracken knight?”
Your head snapped back up at him, shocked at the revelation: he knew. Your love, as it turned out, wasn’t so hidden after all and it made you wonder if the pitying look he gave you now made the entire situation even worse. You pondered further: if your father knew of your relations with the young knight, why even engage in acts that would bring about the situation in the first place?
“My darling daughter,” He began as he reached out and patted your hand in an attempt to comfort you, “It is time. You are already one and twenty.” He hesitated at first in saying his following remark, sure that it would hurt you further, but quickly decided that it was better to be honest, “And he has never asked.”
So, that was why. How does one accept a proposal that never comes?
First was an intake of air, then the sound of wood scrapping against the stone floor as you pushed your chair back from the meal. You rose up from your seat with a blank expression and side-stepped away from your place at the table before announcing, “I’ve lost my appetite.” Finally, you removed yourself from the dining hall with your father looking solemnly after your retreating form.
In your chambers, you paced back and forth. It was hot. So very hot. You could feel the burning of your skin as you fanned yourself and you knew, without even having to look into a mirror, that your face was flushed. Beads of sweat began to form at your temple. Your hands shook. And everything felt so tight – so constricting. Your chest heaved as you tried to gasp for air; you couldn’t get your lungs to expand enough in order to take in the much needed oxygen – dread seemed to fill it in its stead. You couldn’t decide which was more suffocating: the clothes or the deplorable reality you were currently facing. Eventually, your fingers found their way to the front of your bodice and you began to fumble with the laces wanting nothing more than to get the accursed article off of you. You ripped it from your body as it came loose before throwing the wretched thing across the room and let out an enraged holler.
He promised, you thought as tears threatened to fall, he promised for many moons now that he would finally go to your father and ask for your hand; announce your love before the whole realm and make you truly his. But as always, he moved too slowly. Cautious. At times, too cautious. And now with his delay, you were going to be sent away to become a Blackwood.
You hunched over to pull off your slippers then threw them unceremoniously against the wall in a vain attempt to quell your anger. With your stockinged feet, you stomped towards the nearest window and screamed into the night, hoping that the breeze would carry your message to its intended.
“Aeron Bracken! You fucking coward!"
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The days moved swiftly thereafter and soon enough a week had passed since the announcement of your betrothal, a week since you sent a raven to Aeron, and a week since you waited for a reply that never came. It left a bitter taste in your mouth and an even more sour mood as you sat in the wheelhouse that carried you towards what would be your new home: Raventree Hall. It was there where you would officially meet your betrothed and have the ceremony. Had you not been so heartbroken by your knight’s lack of response, you may have put up a much greater resistance to the marriage. But you were, so you didn’t. It did not help matters that your Lord Paramount actually favored the union, which sealed your fate if nothing else had already. So there you were, sitting across from your father while Atlanna, your most favorite handmaiden and dearest friend, sat to your left as you traveled west.
“A storm brews, my lady.” Atlanna stated candidly as she peeked through the window on her side.
“Does it?” In turn, you peeled back the curtain on yours to observe for yourself the dark clouds that slowly began to roll in; it was as though the heavy weather stalked your very mood. You released the curtain and turned your attention away from the window, slumping into your seat with your arms crossed over your chest, “Perhaps it shall bring about a flood in which I can drown.”
Atlanna let out a small chortle at your antics while your father simply shook his head.
By the time you arrived to the castle, it was already the afternoon and the sky had completely turned overcast, though the rain refused to fall, much like your tears. That tight feeling in your chest returned and you could feel it claw its way up to your neck as you journeyed past the castle gates and closer to the entrance where your future family stood to receive you. Sensing your nerves, Atlanna placed one of her hands over yours and squeezed. You looked over at her and smiled weakly as you squeezed hers back, glad that your father allowed her to leave the household in order to bring her along with you; it would make putting on your brave face much easier and give you at least one ally among your new house.
The wheelhouse slowed and finally came to a stop, prompting your father to stand from his seat and push the door open. You took in a deep breath and steeled yourself, following in your father’s footsteps with Atlanna right behind you. However, as you neared the final steps, your foot slipped and you felt yourself falling forward.
‘Oh’s’ and gasps were heard from the small group gathered before you. You closed your eyes and braced yourself for the impact against the cold, muddy ground, but it never happened. Instead, you felt your body turn as a strong arm wrapped itself around your waist and the other cradled your head, preventing your fall.
Slowly, you opened your eyes and found yourself staring at someone’s chest; your savior was taller than you which forced you to look up. You wished you hadn’t. It was then that you realized that the gods had granted your prayer and sent you to drown, drown, drown. But rather a flood, it was into a pair of stormy eyes. Your heart quickened and your lips parted as you let out a small gasp, still unable to look away. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. He bore down into yours as well, but with what emotion, you couldn’t quite grasp. It felt like an eternity before someone finally let out a chuckle.
“Well, that’s one way to introduce yourself.” Lord Samwell Blackwood laughed and strode over to the pair of you with a wide grin, your body still encased in the young man’s arms. “My lady,” He began once he reached you both and placed a hand on each of your shoulders, “Meet my son, heir to Raventree Hall, and your future lord husband. Benjicot Blackwood.”
Something in your mind suddenly shattered upon hearing his name and you were finally able to blink away from Benjicot’s gaze. You hadn’t realized until then how tightly you had been gripping onto his tunic and as much as you wanted to let go, you weren’t sure if you could with the strength in your legs slowly dissipating. Your eyes darted from Benjicot to his father, then to your father, whose smile was just as wide and full of amusement as Lord Blackwood’s, then back to Benjicot who’s grip on your waist only tightened. You looked up into his eyes once more and a familiar fluttering in your stomach began.
Your eyes widened with recognition.
Oh, shit.
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a/n: I recently rejoined tumblr and a few weeks ago I posted a poll to find which character you wanted me to torture first and the Benjicot girlies prevailed. So this is me dipping my toe into the HOTD fandom. I hope I do these characters justice. I was initally going for a longer chapter, but honestly, just wanted to get something out there lol. Comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated and my askbox is always open. ♡
And yes, that was a teeny tiny reference to @spider-stark's fic Little Bracken Knight. 🤭
taglist: @pantheonofbeauty @cregansfourthwife @spicyteaandcrumpets @accidentpronedork @cococrazy18
@witch-moon-babe @a-romantic-twst @flusteredmoonn @nixtape-foryou @flowerprincezz
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prettyforwoso · 2 months
Text
Shadow of Smoke
Part 1
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Alexia Putellas x teen reader, Barca Femeni x teen reader
based off this request
summary: Exams are getting to the best of you. Isolating yourself from your friends and teammates, you find solace in substance.
MASTERLIST
You were getting closer and closer to punching a fist through your laptop screen every second. You usually enjoy studying, but not when it becomes mind numbingly easy and pointless, yet you still have to do it. 
Your neck is beginning to hurt from sitting at your desk for so long, you wish you didn’t have to do this stupid homework but it needs to be turned in by class tomorrow morning. 
Rolling back on your desk chair, you face the full wall window in your bedroom, looking over the Barcelona city sunset. Nothing beats this view. 
You had moved into Alexia's house almost straight away when you moved to Barcelona. Family was out of the picture for you, and living completely alone at 16 in a new country was an absolute no for Alexia. 
The two of you had met before, after the world cup semi finals, just as you got knocked out of the competition. Alexia and a few of her Spanish teammates were there. 
You were relatively new to the game, making your debut as an Aussie player only just before the world cup, but you sure as hell were not unknown. You had taken the world by storm. 
Alexia came up to you and introduced herself, as if you didn't know who she was. She complimented you, saying how well you played for someone so young and small. Quick into this conversation, Alexia clocked how shy you were, not able to hold eye contact and mostly only speaking when spoken to, alas, she quickly realized how sweet you were. The pair of you almost immediately getting along well.  
Soon after singing for the team. Alexia came to meet you at a private conference while still in Australia after the world cup. She quickly adored you, she saw so much of her younger self in you. So nervous and shy, so quiet, yet such a big personality. 
Your living situation was discussed at the conference, Alexia offered for you to live with her for a little while, until you got comfortable. A little while turned into forever the day that Alexia offered for you to permanently move in with her. 
Alexia’s house was kind of the group spot for the team, it was very rare that you and Alexia were the only ones in the house during the day. It was a welcome spot for everyone, and the team took advantage of that. 
Desk abandoned, you sat in front of the window with your laptop on your lap, trying to finish the last details of your essay. 
“Chica!” You hear Alexia yell over the music and chatter in the kitchen. “Come eat dinner” 
You sigh and close your laptop. Your feet find the floor as you walk towards your bedroom door. 
You make your way down the hallway, following the calm chatter and soft music that filled the living room and kitchen. 
You make your appearance, walking next to the stove top where Alexia serves you a plate. “Go sit with the girls and eat” She says as she looks down at you. Sat at the table was Lucy, Mapi and Ingrid, laughing amongst themselves. “No Alexia, I have to finish my essay” you plead, hoping she will let you eat at your desk. “No. You eat at the table, go sit” she says sternly, turning away from you to serve her own plate. 
You sigh and roll your shoulders forward, making your way to the table. 
“Oh there she is!” Ingrid smiles, looking at you taking a seat between her and Lucy . She presses a kiss to your cheek and Lucy messes with your hair. 
“Sorry. I’ve been doing homework” You look up from your plate with the explanation of your absence. 
“You’re such a good girl, I never did any homework in highschool” Mapi speaks up, making you crack a smile. That's so unsurprising.
“Don’t encourage that behavior Maria” Alexia drills into her as she takes a seat next to her. You roll your eyes and take a bite of the food. 
“What? I just copied my friends” Mapi says jokingly, earning herself a smack on the back of the head from Alexia. “Callarse la boca” the statement accompanies her action. Mapi rolls her eyes and laughs in your direction, winking and smiling. You look down and smile at her encouragement. 
“All this little one does is study” Alexia says after a silence, pointing to you with her fork.
“I thought you found school easy?” Lucy asks. 
“Yeah… because I study.” You say, Alexia gives you an unsatisfied look because of your tone of voice. You just playfully roll your eyes and get back to eating, keeping to yourself as the rest of them carry on talking.
The house gets quieter as you get into bed and crack open a book. Everyone is still there, but they have moved to the deep chat part of the evening, knowing that you will be sleeping, taking into consideration that you have school tomorrow.
You feel your eyes begin to close when you hear a gentle knock on your bedroom door. “Yeah?” you yell out, thinking it's Alexia. The door cracks open and in comes Mapi. “Hey you, I wanted to come say goodnight.” She speaks as she walks towards you in bed. “Ingrid and I are heading home” She sits and moves hair out of your face. Mapi leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. “It was nice to see you Chica, you should start coming out with us all soon”. 
You know deep down that she's right. Alexia is hard on you about your studies but you know that's just because she loves you and wants you to do well. She would always let you go out to have fun, sometimes even encouraging it, begging you to lift yourself from your desk to get out of the house and explore the new city. 
“I know, I will once I’m all done with exams” Mapi seems unsatisfied with your answer, a flash of sadness enters her eyes. “You’re doing a great job sweetheart. Really I mean it.” Her comment makes you smile and you lean up to kiss her cheek. “Thank you Maria” 
It means a lot to you, statements like that. Your parents are not in your life, they never really had been. So being told by someone that they are proud of you always makes you smile. 
You make it to training about an hour late because you had a class in the morning. You do part time schooling so that it can work around football and your professional career. This however, has come in the way of you really making many friends in the new city. You did have plenty of really good friends, but they were always at parties when you stayed home, so you weren't that close with them. 
You are deathly shy. Hating nothing more than the idea of introducing yourself to someone or meeting someone new. You were so quiet when you first started playing for Barca, even the team had to work together to get something out of you sometimes. You eventually warmed up however, revealing your big personality and ability to make literally anyone laugh. 
Training today seems like a step backwards in terms of your progression to confidence in the group. Walking into the gym all you said was a quiet hello to a few of your teammates. You were feeling so tired and overwhelmed from school and studies that you didn’t have the energy to have any kinds of conversations today. 
“How are you today chica?” Frido asks as you walk over to the weights where she is standing. You don't verbally answer, instead just press your head to her chest and take a deep audible sigh. Frido wraps an arm around you and pulls you to look up at her. “Tired hm?” she asks and you simply nod. 
This severe drop in energy hadn’t gone unnoticed to the rest of your teammates, all seeing you suddenly go quiet again, or straight up sleeping in meetings. They all had an understanding that you have exams at the moment, however, they usually don't affect you like this. They knew there had to be something else going on. 
It was true, something more was going on. You had been isolating yourself too much. With the desperate need for academic validation comes the lack of a social life and the act of socially withdrawing. Everything was moving so fast at the moment, studies were one of the only things you felt like you could control. You basically refused to go out with any of your friends when they would ask, and Alexia took quick note of this. 
Whenever she would ask, you would just tell her that you were feeling stressed with school and really needed to focus. She believed you to an extent. You have always been shy. She knew that you had been struggling to make friends at your new school, but you had made some and they seemed really genuine. It's not them she was worried about. There were other girls at your school that she knew didn’t make you feel at all welcome. These were the girls that picked on you and said rude things behind your back. You tried to reassure her that it was fine, and she acted like she believed you, but deep down she knew you were hurting, desperate to get out  and go to the parties you were invited to, but you were just too nervous. 
Those girls picked on you because you were so quiet. They called you all sorts of mean things that you pretended to not hear, more for your own comfort than anyone else's. 
The two of you arrived home just after lunch. You threw your bags down on the doorway of your bedroom and escorted your body to the shower. 
Water runs down your body in reflection. You stare down at your toes, inviting your shampoo to drip over your face. You close your eyes when the liquid attempts to make contact. Your hands are on your face, rubbing your eyes in an attempt to discard the soap on your face. Your eyes remain shut as you rock your head back and lean your whole body against the shower wall, keeping it in reach of the water that keeps you warm. 
Your vision breaks free as you crack your eyes open, seeing nothing but the fogged up shower glass isolating you from the rest of the room. 
You had been invited to a party tonight, one of those random massive group parties smack bang in the middle of the week- in the middle of exams. You weren't planning on attending- to say the least, but Alexia knew you had been invited and you knew she would encourage you to go. A small part of you wonders if maybe you should…
You hadn’t been to a party in weeks, maybe even a month or two. Your friends never fail to invite you, always wanting to make you feel included even when they knew that answer was always going to be a no. 
A knock on your door brings you out of your delusions. It’s Alexia- who else would it be. 
“Yeah?” You yell out, fighting with the volume of the water crashing down on the tiled shower floor. 
“Babygirl get the FUCK out of the shower, its been an hour” Alexia jokes. 
You groan, roll your eyes and turn your body to turn the water off. It was never a big deal when you had long showers. You and Alexia had separate bathrooms. However, Alexia would get worried if you were in there for longer than an hour, believing the hot water will damage your ‘Perfect baby skin’. Your eyes were consistently rolled in this household. 
You sit on your bed, wrapped in your towel. Wet hair meeting your back. You were hunched over looking at your phone, contemplating whether or not to attend tonight. Alexia returns to your room, sighing when she sees your posture, a correction she has made many times. 
“What is the matter?” You turn around, eyes meeting her voice. She stood in the doorway, looking lovingly stern. 
You don’t move from your position. “I think I might go tonight” Alexia's eyes widen and she physically looks shocked. “Wait really?” she asks, as if to double check before she continues. “I think that’s a good idea” She says, her accent beginning to struggle with her english. 
“You’ll be home by 12?” Alexia says, holding your shoulders, her face close to yours. “And you can call me anytime to come get you…I’ll be there” 
“Yes Alexia” You begin. “I have been to parties before” You say, cracking a smile. “I know, I just want to make sure you have fun” She said, tilting her face down and locking eyes, as if to question you. “Now come here, give me a hug before you go” You step onto your toes and press your face to her chest. “You look so gorgeous Bebita” she says, inhaling the scent of your perfume on top of your hair products. “Thank you Lex” you lean up to her and press a kiss on her cheek, soon heading out the door.
It’s loud and crowded here, not unlike any other parties. You greet a few people but hunt for your friends, trying to remain confident with your posture. 
Your face morphs into a smile when you find them outside, sitting around a fire with a few others. 
You hug and kiss them all, finding a seat squeezed between two of them, placing your hands out, hovering close to the fire to be warmed. 
Chatter and more chatter. The deep conversations around a fire, all sat in plastic chairs, were never anything but enjoyable. You weren’t uninvolved in the party, you were just at a smaller section of the party, and if anything, the main party was becoming the campfire as more and more people came to join, dancing around or just sitting and chilling with friends. You wondered why you always say no to this, you always end up having fun with everyone, you begin to regret the isolation you have put on yourself as you realize just how much you have been missing out on. 
You’re silent for a while, letting the others around you fill your conscious. You didn’t have anything to say, so you happily said nothing at all. 
The attention of your group is suddenly all on you as someone near you hands you a vape. “Hey, you want a hit?” They ask. “No, no thanks” You non-judgmentally decline, passing it back and waiting for everyone to move on with the conversations, but they don’t. 
“Go on, it won’t kill you” A friend of yours speaks, nudging your shoulder with their own. 
“Bro no, I’m an athlete” You say jokingly, smiling at the fact they think it’s not a big deal. 
“One hit isn’t gonna take away your spot” the one who offered her vape says. 
You think for a moment. Lots of teenagers do it, no one you know has ever got sick from it. And part of you knows they are right- one hit won’t hurt. As if Alexia would ever know. 
504 notes · View notes
yeonzzzn · 4 months
Text
✨all my little stars: park jongseong
epilogue for no limits duology | the limits series
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pairing: jay x afab!reader word count: 3.2k
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synopsis: jay’s world spins faster after finding out of your pregnancy and making the preparations for the life you both created with a mixture of the normal chaos and the unexpected.
genre: established relationship, blonde!jay, uncle!jay, fluffy, suggestive.
warnings: swearing, the boys being down bad (as usual), mentions of sex, pregnancy mentions, that’s probably it ♡
★ this is an epilogue of the spin-off to the main series, please read off limits / parts 1-2 to this spin-off before reading this one. they are tagged under the title ★
•·.·no limits spotify playlist'·.·•
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“C-can you repeat that?” Jay’s throat went dry and his hands were shaking and his knees weak. 
The doctor smiles at him, “I said, congrats Dad, you’re having twins.” 
Twins? Jay couldn’t believe it. If it weren’t for the handrails he held a grip on the bed you laid in, he would have completely fallen to the floor at the news. 
The surprising thing is, you weren’t even shocked. You saw it coming with how big your baby bump was. Mostly with Jay’s sister also being pregnant, her bump was of normal size. At first, you thought maybe your baby was growing a lot bigger than you’d thought, but as the days went on…it became obvious you were carrying more than one life. 
Jay on the other hand looked like he was fixing to have a heart attack. You were genuinely worried for your fiancé until he looked over at you and his lips curled into a smile. 
“Twins,” he chuckles and smiles wider, “Baby, we’re having twins,” Jay took your hands in his, placing kisses on their tops then placing a kiss on your forehead, resting his head against yours and rubbing the pads of his thumbs in your palms, “I couldn’t be happier.” 
But oh man did the boys not let Jay live this down. 
Jay’s sister took you and her out for some much-needed girl time for dinner and shopping, while Jay stayed behind at the apartment. 
“BROTHER NO FUCKING WAY!! TWINS?!?” Heeseung laughed, slapping the back of his friend, “We get rid of Jake and __ just for them to be replaced.” 
Jay dropped his head into his palms, “I’m so happy over it that I'm exhausted. But it was also such a shock.” 
Heeseung was now running his hand up and down his back, “All jokes aside, I am happy for you man, this is great news.” 
Jake nodded, standing from the solo recliner and ruffling Jay’s hair, “Just think our little Hwa will have not just two, but THREE family members to grow up with.” 
Jay chuckled and sat back on the couch, his smile going from ear to ear. He was genuinely so happy. Twins?? He still couldn’t believe it. And the timing of his sister and you being pregnant at the same time was even more perfect. His children will get to grow up with hers, and neither of the four would be alone. 
Jay let out a yawn, “Jesus. Jake, is this how you felt about the first check-up you and my sister went to for Hwa?” 
Jake let out a soft groan and also leaned back, “Yes. I was shaking so badly and my ears were ringing. But it’s such a happy feeling at the same time.” 
Jay nodded, taking a good long look at his best friend/brother-in-law, his eyes widening as he stood quickly to his feet, causing every male to stare up at up. 
“You good?” Sunghoon asked, “Did having twins get to ya or something?” 
Jay shakes his head, “No. I just realized I need to move YN in, like now.” 
It was the one thing both you and Jay kept putting off. Specifically because of your parents, or well, father. If your father didn’t like Jay when they first met, he sure as hell didn’t like him now. From what you have told Jay, he already isn’t happy about the engagement or the pregnancy or moving out. But it is what it is. Jay didn’t care, he had you and that’s all that mattered to him. 
Sunghoon whistles, “Guess this place will be crowded until Jake and __ officially move out.” 
Jake smirked, “And guess who all is going to help move YN in and us out because the two females are pregnant?” 
Jay also smirked and glanced down at Heeseung and Sunghoon. 
The two males looked at each other, communicating silently. 
“Nah,” Jake said, his Aussie accent coming out thick, “You two aren’t getting out of this!” 
And they didn’t. You and __ sat on the couch with smiles on both your faces as you watched your men do all the work. Even Hwa was clapping and cheering the men on. It was adorable. 
Before you knew it, you broke the lease for your apartment, had everything cleaned out, and officially moved in with Jay. It was meant to be this way, and long overdue. 
The first night with Jake, __, and Hwa gone was too quiet. Jay rolled over onto his back and exhaled out. 
“What’s on your mind, my love?” you asked, not moving from the position you were lying in but shifting just enough to look at his face. 
“Did I wake you up?” he asked, tilting his face towards you. You shake your head, waiting for his response to your question, “It’s just…quiet.” 
You smile at him, reaching your hand over and running your fingers through his blonde hair, “You’ll just have to get used to it, it’ll be okay.” 
Jay closed his eyes as you continued to run your fingers in his hair, and sighed at the loss of your touch and seeing you roll back over. Jay moved to his side and pressed his chest to your back, hand slipping under your night shirt and rubbing at your pregnant tummy, his lips making home against your neck. 
“We can always make some noise of our own,” he whispers against your neck, now sliding his hand down to the waistband of your shorts, “You’re so sexy pregnant.” 
You chuckle at the feeling of his cock twitching against your back, leaning into him and tilting your head to give him more access to your neck, “Do you want to make some noise?” 
He laughs against your skin, slowly pulling down your shorts and panties, “Always.” 
Time seemed to have flown by too quickly. Every day it's getting harder and harder to do normal daily activities and the males of the apartment forcing you to basically be a couch potato. When Jay wasn’t home to help take care of you, Heeseung or Sunghoon was always around to help out in any way they could. You always felt terrible, but they didn’t mind. They did this for __ when she was pregnant with Hwa. 
But at the same time, you couldn’t complain. It gave you time to plan your and Jay’s wedding. The best thing is that you didn’t have to worry about catering for food or flowers since you and Jay both own a restaurant and flower shop. Saves a lot of money. 
Months passed and __ finally was rushed to the hospital to birth to her and Jake’s second child. And to Jake’s lucky stars, they had a baby boy: Ha-Yoon Sim. 
Jay slapped the back of his best friend’s back, “You got so lucky having a boy.” 
Jake gripped the bed rails of his wife's bed, sweat rolling down his face as he stared at her with their baby boy, “You’re telling me.” 
You stood on the other side of her bed, running your finger on his cheek, a small yawn escaping his lips, “Gosh, he’s a spitting image of Jake,” you giggled to her. 
She lifts Ha-Yoon up, rubbing her cheek against his forehead, “Both of my kids look way too much like their father.” 
Jake tilts his head, “You say that like it’s a bad thing?” 
Jay takes a good look at his nephew and laughs, “Still has the Park nose too.” 
Sunghoon shakes his head with a wide smile, “I don’t think either of you will ever get away from the Park's nose.” 
“Ma,” Hwa softly said, clinging her hands to Heeseung’s shirt as he held her in his arms. Her eyes carefully watched her mother and baby brother. 
“Wanna see your new brother?” Heeseung asked, brushing his nose against her cheek and making her giggle. 
“Hee,” she giggles more, now brushing her nose against his cheek. 
“Bring her over,” Jake reached his arms out for his daughter, Heeseung transferring her over. Jake leans Hwa over the rail, her eyes staring down at her brother, “This is Ha-Yoon,” Jake kisses her cheek, “This is your little brother.” Hwa’s lips tried to speak the word brother, she looked over at Jake with a confused look, “Brother,” He said again with a smile. 
“Frother,” she tried, and Jake just nodded and smiled more. 
Jay was now at your side, shifting you over a bit to lean over and hug his sister, “Our little family keeps on growing. I’m proud of you, stinks.” 
With a free arm, she hugged him back, tears swelling her eyes, “I know. I love you so much, big brother.” 
Jay kissed his sister's forehead and ruffled her hair, “I’m going to teach Ha-Yoon how to play the guitar and to cook, be prepared for that.” 
She rolled her eyes but kept her smile, “Of course you will.” 
Watching your family smile and laugh had you placing your hands on your tummy, being excited to meet your twins and grow this family even more. 
Jake glanced up at you, seeing how you trace and look at your pregnant belly and he couldn’t help but smile even more, “You’ll be due in two months, ya?” 
You look up at him and nod, “That or sooner.” Jay was now wrapping his arm around your waist and placing a hand in the middle of your belly and kissing your temple. 
Jake shifted his eyes to Jay and then back to you, “I can’t wait to meet my nieces.” 
Jay whipped his head to his best friend, tilting it to the side and glaring at him, “You want me to fold, don’t you?” 
His sister scoffs, “You’re so girl dad, big brother.” 
Jay looked between his sister and Jake, “You both are manifesting girls aren’t you?!” 
Heeseung pulled up a chair and leaned his elbows onto the bed, “Jay, just accept you’re having twin girls.” 
Sunghoon added, “Both Jake and yourself have shitty luck, you’re going to have girls.” 
“There’s still time!” Jay said with a sigh, leaning his head against yours. Jay wouldn’t mind girls, he’ll love his children regardless of gender. He just knew it would be over for him. If he thought it was bad when Hwa was born…it would be worse when you give birth. 
And finally, that fateful day arrived. 
Jay held your hand, squeezing it tightly as you pushed. Sweat rolled down the sides of your face, holding your breath with each push. 
“That’s it, keep pushing, YN,” Jay said, wiping the sweat off your face, “Keep taking deep breaths, my love. You’re so strong.” 
You flung your head back onto the pillow, gritting your teeth and using every ounce of strength you had to push out the bundles of life. 
“Good, good,” the doctor said, “Baby number one is almost there.” 
Jay rested his head on yours, his knuckles turning white from the grip he had on your hand as you squeezed back tighter. You didn’t take another breath until crying filled the hospital room. 
“One baby out, keep up the pace, YN,” the doctor said, her smile wide as she looked up to you and Jay, “One baby to go.” 
Jay pressed a kiss to your brow, “Almost there my rose petal, keep fighting.” 
You took a few deep breaths and nodded, pushing with all your might, a pained groan leaving your lips as your second baby finally made its way into the outside world. 
“Congratulations parents, you did it!” the doctor said, taking your second child to be bathed and cleaned up. 
Jay chuckled, his smile big, forehead still resting against yours, “It was all her, I’m just here for support.” 
“Your support still did something,” one of the nurses said, walking over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder, “Want to come meet your daughters?” 
Daughters. Everyone was right. He was done for. 
Jay swallowed and nervously nodded, “Yes, please.” 
The nurse smiled and led him over to the table where his daughters lay side by side, their sobs stopping the minute Jay reached the table, their brown eyes staring back at him. 
His whole body shook, hands trembling and knees weak. He gripped the table, trying to steady himself from falling over. His girls…these are his girls. Two lives he helped create. Two lives that are now his entire world and more. His knees buckled, the nurse taking to his left and helping him regain his balance. 
“Everything okay?” you asked out of breath, concern filling you as you watched your boyfriend nearly fall over. 
Jay nodded, tears swelling his eyes as he gently traced his fingers down his twin's faces, “They are so perfect.”
“Want to hold them?” the nurse asked, “I can help.” 
Jay nodded quickly, wanting nothing more than to hold his baby girls. 
He picked one up, reaching his other arm out to take the second from the nurse, holding them closely to his chest and walking over to you, “Baby,” he sniffled but held his smile, “They are so beautiful.” 
You sat up the best you could, reaching your hands out, “Gimme, please.” 
Jay placed one of your daughters in your arms, “This is Aera,” he smiled, then held up your second daughter to his face, kissing her forehead, “And this is Hana,” then placed her in your other arm. 
“Aera and Hana Park,” you smile, tears swelling your eyes and slowly falling, “They are perfect.” The minute Jay held his daughters' gaze he knew their names for them were perfect.
He watched as you cuddled Aera and Hana to your chest, placing kisses on their small faces. 
And that was all it took for him to crumble. Tears streamed down his face as his imaginable barrier of protection was placed over the three of you. Jay leaned over the bed, wrapping the three of you in his arms, and cried into your hair, “My girls,” he took a shaky breath, and placed a kiss on your temple, “My sweet girls, I love you all so fucking much,” He leaned back but kept his arms tight around you three and connected his lips to yours, breathing you in to stabilize him, “My rose petal and little stars.” 
There was a knock on the hospital room door, and a nurse opening it, “Are you the family?” she asked. Jay perked up, thinking his parents, sister, niece and nephew, and best friends arrived, only for his smile to fade at hearing a voice he didn’t want to. 
“Yes,” the man said, “I am the father of the one who gave birth.” 
The one who gave birth huh? Can’t even call her your daughter. 
The nurse let your father and mother in the room, Jay quickly stood upright and walked to the edge of the bed, his protective nature coming out. 
Your father stopped a good distance away from Jay, your mother standing right behind him. 
Jay gritted his teeth, “If you’re here to play some kind of sick fucking game, get the fuck out!” 
You didn’t even stop him for his outburst. It was well deserved. Mostly after the fit your father threw once you broke the lease to your old apartment and the way he got upset over finding out you was pregnant. You held your daughters closer. 
Your father sighed and looked to the floor, “I didn’t come to start any fights.” 
Jay clenched his fists, “Then why are you here?” 
He glanced up at Jay and took a few steps forward, placing his hands on his shoulders. It took everything in Jay to not push him off. 
“I want to be in my grandchildren’s lives, after thinking long and hard, I knew if I continued down this path I would have not only lost my daughter, but my grandchildren.” 
Jay looked back at you, your eyes wide as you stared at your father, waiting for you to respond. But you never did. 
He looked at your father, “I think she needs time,” and your father nodded. 
“Anything she needs, I will do,” he squeezed Jay’s shoulders and then gave them a slight tap, “Welcome to the family, son.” 
Your parents walked to the door, giving you one last look then walked out. 
You didn’t realize how long you held your breath until Jay was back at your side and pushing your hair from your face, “YN, breathe.” 
You looked up at him, “Why did it take birthing my children for him to decide to change?” 
Jay continued running his hands through your hair, “Sometimes it takes something great coming into the world to change everything,” he looked down at his daughters, “The minute I looked at our girls, everything changed for me. My life has a greater purpose. I’m sure he felt the same.” 
You just nodded looking down at your girls. You weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive your father, but the fact he showed up was a start. 
Another knock happened on the door, the nurse giving you and Jay a concerned look as she went to the door, barely sliding it open and peeking out, “Are you family?” 
“Hell yeah, we are! I’m ready to meet my nieces!” 
Jay exhausted out a sigh at the word choice his sister decided to make. 
The nurse stepped to the side, his sister rushing in with Jake carrying Hwa in one arm, and Ha-Yoon in his car seat carrier in Jake’s other hand. Heeseung and Sunghoon trail in after along with Jay’s parents. 
“No one even told you guys I had girls,” Jay teased, reaching out to hug his sister. 
“No one had to,” she teased back, squeezing him tightly, “We already knew.” 
She practically shoved Jay out of the way to run to your bedside, “YNNIE!!” she cheered, leaning at your side to get a look at your girls, “Oh my god they look exactly like my brother!! They have the Park noses too!!” 
Hwa stretched her arms out, “Jay!” her sweet voice coos, Jay taking his niece in his arms and then reaching out to hug Jake. 
“Can’t get away from the Park nose,” Jake said with a smile, hugging Jay tightly, “Congratulations, brother.” 
“Thanks, man, it means so much.” 
Heeseung and Sunghoon were next to hug Jay, then his parents, each of them smiling wide and giving their congratulations. 
“Babies!” Hwa said, pointing at you and her cousins. 
“That’s right!” Jay said with excitement, “You want to meet your cousins?” 
She smiled and nodded, “Cousins!” 
You smiled at little Hwa when Jay sat her on the bed at your side, holding her shoulders, “Hi Hwa,” you said softly, “This is Aera and Hana.” 
Hwa smiles and lifts to her knees, little hands placed against yours that hold the girls, “Family!” 
“That’s right, sweet girl,” her mother sniffled, “We are a big family.” 
Everyone crowded around your bedside, each taking turns holding both of your girls. 
You looked between each of them, tears falling down your face. Family. This is your family. 
Jay pressed a kiss to your cheek, “Nothing can get better than this.” 
You nodded, pulling him into a tight hug. Nothing could beat this.
‧₊˚✧THE END✧˚₊‧
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494 notes · View notes
chrisevansonly · 1 year
Text
𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜
ఌsmau
ఌ charles leclerc x female reader
ఌ apparently being younger than your F1 boyfriend is getting under the skin of some…
ఌ i just thought of this idea and wanted to get it out, i hope you all enjoy<3
yninstagram
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liked by carla.brocker, F1gossip, charles_leclerc and 216,000 others
ciao italia 🇮🇹🩷
see 32,000 comments
username okay so cute!
username isnt she leclerc’s rumoured gf?
>username yeah and she’s 19….
username she’s younger than kika💀
carla.brocker the prettiest angel🩷
>yninstagram love and miss you!!
waggossip new wag alert?
>username would be better if she wasn’t a child🤣
>username shes literally an adult wdym….
charles_leclerc ❤️
yninstagram added to their story!
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charles_leclerc
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liked by yninstagram, leclerc_pascale, apmmonaco and 645,000 others
my happy place is with you❤️
tagged yninstagram
see 87,000 comments
username he’s dating a child lmfao
username charles you could do so much better
leclerc_pascale c’est très jolie mes bébés❤️
>yninstagram merci maman😘
username she’s so pretty!!
username this is gonna be such a train wreck
lilyhme ugh so jealous when is it our turn for sunset hikes?!
>yninstagram next week?!
carlossainz55 how early did he give up @:yninstagram?
>yninstagram 30 mins in😂
>charles_leclerc LIES
username she’ll be gone faster than we can blink 😂
charles leclerc added to their story!
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wagsofF1
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liked by username, wagsgossip, francisca.cgomes and 15,000 others
formula 1 driver charles leclerc was spotted comforting his girlfriend y/n y/l/n after being seen out enjoying some time with friends and family this evening in Monaco. a fan said she looked really upset, distraught and was crying, charles looked really angry and pissed off…lately y/n has been getting lots of hate for her age and being in a relationship with the scuderia ferrari driver.
what are your thoughts?
see 5,500 comments
username i think she’s really sweet:(
username LMFAO ofc she breaks down in public attention seeking much?
>username grow tf up
username what did she expect!! she’s basically a child!!!
username i feel really bad for her:(
francisca.cgomes i think everyone needs to shut the hell up. mind your business and stop bullying people online. get a job.
>username KIKA!!!!!
>username she really said not today hoe
username i was there, charles was yelling at a group of people for harassing y/n as they all ate dinner…i felt so bad hearing her cry…she doesn’t deserve it :(
yninstagram
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liked by charles_leclerc, voguefrance, pierregasly and 115,000 others
laisse moi seul.
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yninstagram added to their story!
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charles_leclerc
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liked by scuderiaferrari, yninstagram, landonorris and 645,000 others
i should have said something a long time ago but the things i have been seeing being written and said about my girlfriend are just not acceptable. seeing and hearing her cry almost everyday because people cannot be respectful breaks my heart. everyone knows I am very private with my life and with her, for this exact reason that’s been shown again and again. the night people decided to verbally attack her while we were out was completely disrespectful and i couldn’t believe what i was hearing. you all have no place to make comments, opinions or assumptions.
y/n you are sunshine personified and you are the love of my life. i will continue to protect you and your heart for as long as i’m around. je t’aime tellement mon fleur❤️
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francisca.cgomes we love you y/n❤️❤️
>pierregasly charles and I will go to war for you!!
>yninstagram i love you both 🩷
scuderiaferrari sending lots of love and hugs y/n❤️❤️
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lewishamilton love seeing you at the track on race weekends, keep smiling sunny🤍
>ynisnstagram i’ll try lew❤️
arthur_leclerc we’ve got your back always, you’re family
>leclerc_pascale and we love having you be apart of our family🩷
>yninstagram im going to cry i love you all so much:(
yninstagram i love you charlie:(
>charles_leclerc i love you more chérie❤️
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yninstagram
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just me, some watermelon and my favourite person❤️🍉
tagged charles_leclerc
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lilyhme gorgeous gorgeous girl🩷
>yninstagram see you tonight🥰
charles_leclerc watermelon or me?
>yninstagram you…always you baby😘
joristrouche save some for me
>yninstagram hurry up!!!!
leclerc_pascale❤️❤️❤️❤️
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francisca.cgomes i can’t wait to see you tonight🩷🩷
>yninstagram me either 🥰🥰
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spideyhexx · 5 months
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1 am thoughts with kit:
mdni; tw stepcest
Coriolanus and you, hooked up how long ago? Maybe a few months. Almost a year ago. And now your parents are marrying. An awful coincidence because the moment you’re in one another’s vicinity again, you’re both practically eye fucking one another and thinking about the one night you had.
One. Where he took you to his apartment and fucked you in his bed, multiple times. Where you had his cock down your throat and sat on his face because he wanted, no pleaded, that he needed to taste you like that.
How were you supposed to behave like normal? And your father was so happy with his mother, you couldn’t even bear to say anything to break it up.
Coriolanus pulled you aside after a family dinner and you spoke in hushed tones about how the two of you should just ignore what happened, that you don’t need to really be apart of each other’s lives that much. You’re both adults with your own things going on, it would be easy to avoid one another without rousing suspicion, right?
Except, of course, it wasn’t easy to ignore the man. Every time you caught his eye, you pictured how he looked, on top of you and pounding himself into you like he needed you to survive. You don’t know how it was possible. That night you spent with Coriolanus was unreal, unlike anything that it almost feels like a dream. You try to get him out of your mind and system, fucking other people, fucking yourself, anything, but your mind always goes back to him.
And it’s the same for him, he in turn gives into the fantasy a little more and thinks of you on your knees for him when he fists his cock in the shower. After he finishes, he always chastises himself, always tells himself he won’t do that next time but it was a lie.
You both ignore and ignore and ignore until one day, you both give in after your parents left for an evening dinner at a friend’s penthouse. The two of you, left alone for the first time really.
It takes an awkward conversation, two drinks each and Coriolanus’ knee touching yours before you’re all over one another in the couch of the lounge.
He would frantically pick you up after his lips felt bruised from yours, bringing you to your bedroom.
And while Coriolanus’ cock finally sinks into your cunt after the long period of the worst pleasures either of you experienced, he’s rambling like mad right to your ear, pushing his hands under your thighs and knees to get your legs higher. He needs to fuck you as deep as possible, he needs to remember how you feel.
“I’m so fucked up for liking this,” he grunts out, and he restrains himself from biting and sucking marks to your neck, so he just smushes his nose to it instead, “you’re so fucked up for it. You’re moaning like this for me? This is what you fucking needed huh? You’re so lucky I want it just as bad. The way you look at me during dinner sometimes hurts my cock,” and his words feel sharp, breathless and quick to your skin, as he ruts into you, primal and full of energy all for you.
Coriolanus doesn’t care that his own thighs are starting to ache, he doesn’t even care that you’ve already came, and you don’t care either.
“Cant believe how fucked up we are. We’re gonna fuck everything up,” but even with his words, he’s thrusting harder, he almost whimpers when you say, “shut the hell up, Coryo.”
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loviingpedri · 2 months
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tripling the fun -jude and jobe bellingham
prompt: three best friends take over the house by babysitting the bellingham boys’ two nephews and niece.
pt.2 here
bellinghams & fem!reader platonic friendship
warnings: grammar issues, all characters are fictional (except jude and jobe ofc)
click to help palestine
credits to owners for all images
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knocking on the door, anticipation grew.
you have grown up with jude and jobe, considering your parents and their parents were very close friends.
you practically were like their sister. you did everything with them. you were there at their biggest accomplishments or lowest levels.
the door opened to jude and jobe’s aunt, ready for dinner. recently, the bellingham boys recently had a new addition to their family, a little baby nephew. the parents had 3 kids, and one still being about 6 months old, it was a major hassle. they needed a little break, some time for themselves.
who else better to call? the famous trio!
the parents trusted you and the brothers very much. trust me, the babies were in good hands. (might be delusional, but we’ll see!)
“oh my goodness, thank you guys for coming.” the mom hugged all of you. giving you a little peek on the cheek.
suddenly, jude and jobe’s uncle appeared behind her. “you’re here! thank you guys. come in.” stepping into the house, you were met with cold air.
“i see the kids really love this house.” you spoke with a smile as you noticed toys were scattered around the floor. ending your sentence, jobe nearly tripped over a toy truck.
catching himself as you were frightened for him, the three of you burst into a laughter.
“okay mate, it’s not that funny.” jobe said while pushing the truck away from his path.
“jobe, how do you not see a bright yellow and green truck?” jude was dying from laughter.
“i’m really grateful that you took this opportunity. it has been quite awhile since my husband and i have gone out.”
suddenly, a huge commotion was made. all eyes going to the stairway, you could see a little boy about the age of 6 running down the stairs in a little dinosaur onesie.
“there’s my little guy!” the boy ran into jude’s arms into a tight hug.
“i knew it! i knew you were coming! i heard your voice.”
“did you really?” jude fixed his onesie and gave him a little pat on the back.
then, you heard a door slam. staring at the stairs once again, you could see a 4 year old girl in a pink princess dress with a tiara and wand, strutting down with a bright smile (and one missing tooth).
“all hail the princess.” jobe spoke as she slowly walked down with her head held up high. smiles appeared on everyone’s faces, except her brother’s. she only earned an eye roll from him.
finally reaching downstairs, you curtsied to her as jude and jobe did a little bow.
breaking character, she did not hesitate to run to jobe. giving him the biggest hug he has probably ever been given.
“i think the baby is still asleep. the formula is already prepped since he should be waking up soon. we have to get going, good luck guys!” quickly grabbing her purse and getting the hell out of there with her husband, it was time to finally have some fun and bonding times.
“alright kiddos, what should we do today?” jude put down his nephew and immediately patting his head for reassurance.
“we should build a castle!” jobe, also putting down the niece, agreed.
“what kind of castle?”
“castles are for losers!” her big brother snarled at her.
“now, dinosaurs may be big and strong, but they are certainly not rude.” you bent down to his level. he crossed his arms, but unexpectedly, you started tickling him.
“tickle attack!” jude yelled as everyone was tickling the dinosaur and princess.
all laughter came to a quick stop. cries of a baby were echoing throughout the house. jude and jobe were no professionals for caring for a child under 1, therefore both synchronized to look at you for help.
and to be honest, you wanted to hold that baby forever. your motherly instincts kicked in. running up the stairs, you could not wait. meeting the little guy at just 2 months old, he was probably the most adorable baby you’ve ever seen (maybe because he looks a little like baby jude, but we’re gonna ignore that fact).
slowly and gently opening the door, you were met with a baby with a small tear falling down his cheek, but having the brightest smile as soon as he saw you. your heart melted.
“aren’t you the cutest,” you picked him up and could see his chubby face and rolls on his arms. “the baby fever is really kicking in.”
wiping the little tear, you placed his head on your shoulder as you walked down the stairs. putting your hand on his semi-bald head to create a shield just in case, jude and jobe lit up to seeing him.
crowding the little one, jude took him into his arms as you prepared the milk. in the kitchen, you were met with a little princess eating a sugar cookie (jobe couldn’t say no to her).
“hello your royal highness.” you gave a smile to her as you grabbed a little bottle.
“hi y/n. how’s it going?”
“it’s going great! how’s your cookie?”
“it’s good. you should be a mom.”
the statement created a pause for you. the measuring cup filled with formula almost fell on the counter.
“sorry ma’am, but what?”
“you should be a mom.”
“oh no thank you, it is definitely not for me.”
“well you definitely need a boyfriend. i have one! his name is james, he’s 6. i like them older.”
“hold on, you’re talking about your brother’s friend?”
“yep! that james. he’s so dashing. you know you should get with jude.” a frown appeared on your face. kids are full of creative ideas, but this was not on your bingo card.
“i really appreciate your feedback, but i need time to review this information.” jude suddenly appeared in the kitchen, giving you a scare.
“what are y’all talking about?”
in panic, you shouted “nothing!” which created high suspicion. the princess got off the chair after finishing the cookie, and walking off with jude.
finishing on making the bottle, you weren’t sure on what you were about to see, but it was definitely a sight.
jude and jobe bellingham were in pink and purple tutu’s and tiaras. you gasped at the sight.
“y/n, please don’t laugh.” jobe pleaded, sensing his embarrassment already.
“who said i was gonna laugh?” you picked up the baby trying to hide the fact, you were gonna laugh. sitting on the couch to feed him, the boys were being ordered around.
“alright, what’s next to protect the precious princess?”
“it is i! the knight! and i have come to destroy this kingdom!” the once dinosaur jumped out from the hallway holding a fake sword and shield.
the princess let out a tiny scream.
“uncle jude! protect the castle now!” jude nodded in agreement as he picked up a fake sword and play fighting with the knight. tutu’s were dropping and tiaras were falling.
“meanwhile you, uncle jobe, you should totally dance with me.” hiding your smile with the bottle, jobe didn’t really have a choice.
the house was chaotic. a ballerina and knight were battling it out, jobe and the princess were turning and spinning. jobe even had a little purple magic wand as his prop for his dance recital. you were glad you could lay back with a baby who did not give any trouble.
the fun continued to grow as the night went.
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coatl-cuddles · 1 month
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Summarizing the Sky Seasons, but I barely know what I'm talking about
Part 1
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Season of Gratitude - Inspired off of the Festival of Buhtan! Just a season where they celebrate to give thanks and prayers.
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Season of Lightseekers - A family of spirits try to collect the dwindling resource - light - so they don't fade away. It doesn't work.
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Season of Belonging - A family gets separated before visiting their grandmother. They perish and their souls are scattered. By ringing a (dinner) bell, you remind them of who they are. The family gets to have one final meal together before moving on. (Thanksgiving themed)
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Season of Rythm - Dude, we're getting the band back together!!!!!!
If you ask about the elder bird tgc takes you behind a shed and you're never heard from again.
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Season of Enchantment - Spellcasters try to save the land using spells and the Lightseekers light, but ultimately their vessel crashes and they tragically die in the wastelands.
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Season of Sanctuary - Not everything is canon in this season according to the devs.
The important takeaway is that they killed too many light creatures, had a sanctuary to try and raise the population, but then the sanctuary got corrupted too.
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Season of Prophecy - To keep it short:
Essentially, it's the story of how a Sky Kid became the evil king.
There once was a prophecy where a child would complete ancient death trials and gain 4 elemental powers.
This ended up being Prince Alef, who then became King Resh. Lots of children died, and Prince Alef becomes all powerful. Krill get brought up here for the first time.
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Season of Dreams - HELL YEAHH I LOVE FIGURE SKATINGGGG !!!!
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Season of Assembly - Come join the BOY SCOUTS to build a tree house cause there wasn't anywhere else to hang out yet when this was released. Shows that Forest is once again the king of construction projects.
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Season of Flight - Ancestors got around by flying boats attached the creatures of light. Pretty cooool. Shows a tamer use to darkstones and how navigation around the realms worked wo portals.
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sixosix · 1 year
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roommate!lyney annoying you, fluff, kissing, profanity lol!!! feminine french pet name used once (1), implied secret relationship. written in like 30 mins not proofread
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“lyney, who the fuck ate my takeout?!”
that’s a stupid question; there’s only the two of you in this dorm room. exasperated, you throw yourself back on the couch, grieving your lost takeout that is most likely sitting in your boyfriend's stomach. lyney pops out of his bedroom with a cute smile and guilt hidden in closed eyes. he walks to you in slow steps, hands hidden behind his back.
you watch him with narrowed, suspicious eyes.
“ma chérie,” lyney purrs, and you hope there’s enough venom in your glare to take him down, “do you want a magic trick?”
you stare blankly. you do not want a magic trick.
lyney makes an undignified noise, flopping himself on top of you and the one-seat couch; you barely manage to get your laptop out of the way before he crushes it. “come on, entertain me. you have been giving your laptop more attention. do you want a magic trick or not?”
“if it’s about my food, i’m about to make you disappear.”
lyney fans his face as he turns, whistling. “you’ve done it again. you’re so charming when you glare so heatedly at me like that,” he coos, pressing his nose on your cheek and smiling against your skin.
you groan, pushing his face with your palm. “are you a freak?”
“if calling me that is what it takes for you to realize i just want you to look at me,” he agrees solemnly, muffled by you smothering his lips.
“i know i’m your roommate and everything, but you have a twin. do you have to bother me? aren’t you all for ‘family is everything’ and all that? how will they react if they see their lyney clinging onto his roommate like a lovesick parasite?”
“lynette doesn’t even like talking. and i like looking at you,” lyney says, nearing a whine. he persists in slotting himself between the couch armrest and your body, arms wrapped around your waist. it doesn’t budge when you tug on it.
“you can look at me without bothering me.”
lyney blinks owlishly. “oh?”
“entertain yourself,” you snarl, shifting so your back faces him. he buries his nose on the back of your neck, humming thoughtfully.
he then he kisses where your skin is bare, sighing softly. “i’m sorry. i wanted to take you out tonight.”
“dumbass,” you say, adding more to your essay with hostility in your fingers. “how are we going to enjoy dinner if you’re already full?”
“i can enjoy dinner if i see you enjoy dinner.” he sounds so serious about it, too. “hey, look at me for a sec. there’s something on your face.”
instinctively, you turn your head, startled when lyney takes it as an opportunity to kiss the side of your lips. “hey—” he interrupts you with a kiss on the other side. “lyney, you—” and then he seals the deal by kissing you properly.
it’s a little uncomfortable with the angle, but that’s far in the back of your mind with the press of his lips and the warmth he’s emanating. lyney’s a personified heater; it does help that he loves touching you in any way he can whenever you get too cold.
you have to pull away yourself, gasping deep breaths. lyney looks extremely pleased with himself. “you eat my takeout and try to distract me from my essay—do you want me to request a new roommate?”
but as you return to your laptop, you realize it’s gone. the pillow you’ve used to place it on top of is notably empty. you check the corners and peer at what you can with lyney’s arms caging you, but it’s not anywhere either.
“what? where the hell did you put it?”
“let me treat you dinner, and maybe i’ll tell you after our date,” lyney sing-songs, expertly swerving from your attack with a bright laugh.  “come on, up you go.”
lyney doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants; it’s the wisest decision to give in as soon as possible anyway.
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a/n hello guys this is like a practice round bc i have a longfic for lyney in the works !!!!!!!! but this is kinda lame so idk HELPP
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