#i wrote this about a place in a park near my house

[cinnaminsvga]

Harana | Jungkook

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

→ summary:

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

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

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

part of the “heart full of hugot” series

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“YOU ARE SUCH A LITTLE BITCH!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xxx

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

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

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

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

It’s worse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Painfully and pathetically you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pause. “What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xxx

Jimin had texted you while you were still sleeping:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking about?” you exhale.

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

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

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

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

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

And so, you hear him before you see him. 

“Hello?” Jeon Jungkook greets quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Not anymore.)

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

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

“What’s it about this time?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xxx

Reality is a bitter pill to swallow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you do know, the universe responds. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, and seal your fate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

xxx

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

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

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

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

You laugh lightly, already halfway out the door. 

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

hoodie season || Chan x Reader

Summary: You're not stealing Chan's hoodies. He's not happy about it.

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings & Tags: Tooth-rutting fluff, established relationship, that should be it.

A/N: Wrote a silly lil one-shot for an idea I got tonight! This was literally written in under two hours, so, uh, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did lol and I apologize for any typos.

Reblogs, feedback and comments are welcome and encouraged!

It starts, without you being aware of it, on a July evening. You and Chan have only been dating for a couple weeks then, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. For the better half of the night, which you’re spending with his friend group, you’re in his arms, your back against his chest, his chin comfortably resting on your shoulder. Changbin and Jisung tease him about it, but he shrugs it off like it means nothing. He’s got you now, and he likes showing you off, so why wouldn’t he?

It does take you aback when he lets go of you and the cold hits you. It was hot outside all day, and you hadn’t realized that the temperature had dropped by this much. A shiver shakes you to your core, which Chan doesn’t miss, even if he’s being called away to play the guitar.

“You want my hoodie?” he asks, eyes filled with concern.

“No, I’m okay, babe,” you say with a smile. “I’ve brought a jacket.”

He nods, and that’s all there is to it.

It comes back on a night the two of you are spending out. Chan takes you out to this fancy restaurant, and you dress accordingly, always pleased when you get a chance to impress him — and impress him you do. He does that thing that you think is adorable, where he keeps giggling throughout the meal. Under the table, your knees keep touching, and every time, without fail, his ears turn bright red. You love that you still have that effect on your boyfriend of three months.

After that, because you’re near a park, you decide to go for a walk in the night air. It doesn’t take long before you’re shivering in your small, tight dress.

“I’ve got a hoodie in my car,” Chan says, ever the gentleman. “Want me to go get it for you?”

You’re not keen on being left alone in the dark, and your high heels mean that if you go with him, it’ll take much longer than it should. Plus, it would ruin your outfit.

“It’s fine,” you say, arranging your scarf so it wraps around your shoulders. “We’ll be heading home soon anyway, right?”

“Sure,” he nods quickly, and it’s your turn to giggle, because it’s so cute, how Chan always indulges you.

He ends up picking you up when you’re walking back too slowly for his taste, and you protest, but you’re no longer cold when you get to his car.

 The subject — which, by the way, you still haven’t realized is a subject — comes back yet again on a night you’re spending in his apartment. You’re coming out of the shower, a towel wrapped around you, and you’re going through your bag to find the clothes you’d planned on wearing for the night when something lands on the bed in front of you. You glance up to find Chan looking at you, leaning against the door frame.

“Just in case you get cold.”

You have, slowly but surely, made your way into November, but Chan’s place is warm, and you know you’ll have a human radiator, so you grin at him.

“I have a feeling I won’t be needing it tonight.”

Chan grins — but his ears turn red, even now.

 You do a Secret Santa, a few days before Christmas, with Chan and his friend group, at Changbin’s place. It’s an incredibly nice house, but it’s big and it’s old, and you soon find yourself huddling against Chan for warm. It makes him laugh at first, and he presses a kiss into your hair, arm solidly wrapped around you as he rubs your arm. When you don’t appear to warm up as the night keeps going, he disappears for a few minutes, ignoring your protests.

He comes back from his car and hands you one of his signature black hoodies.

“You’re my savior, babe,” you sigh as you pull it over your head.

Chan beams.

His victory is short-lived, though, because you pull away from him after that — with the hoodie, cuddling makes you too hot.

You leave the hoodie neatly folded in his car when you both go back to your place for the night.

It’s just a few days later that you meet Chan’s family for the first time. You’re all dressed-up, determined to do your best so that they’ll like you, even if Chan’s promised you that they would, no matter what, because he loves you, and that’s all they care about.

He dropped the word so easily, and you were left speechless. You haven’t stopped thinking about it since.

Even now, when you’re sitting next to him, making small talk with his mom and listening to his sister tease him playfully, you have butterflies in your stomach. The hand he’s placed over yours on the table, again making it look so natural, so easy for him, isn’t helping.

“Wanna go for a midnight walk?” he offers, later that night. “It’s kind of a family tradition.”

“Sure,” you say, voice squeakier than usual, and he tilts his head as he studies you, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“You’re not dressed warm enough,” he warns you, and before you can say that you’ve brought appropriate clothing, he’s taking off his hoodie and pulling it down over your head. “There. All good.”

It’s late when you come back, so you both wish his parents a goodnight before Chan drives you back to your apartment. You wait until you’ve made it up the stairs and you’ve opened the door to put your arms around him and pull him down for a kiss. It’s soft, slow, and filled with all of your emotions.

“What’s that for?” Chan whispers against your lips. He’s warm against you, his hands on your hips, and you feel so grounded by him. You always do.

“I love you too,” you whisper back.

The hoodie ends up forgotten on the floor.

You celebrate New Year’s Day with Chan’s friends, again, but really, they’re your friends by now. You get at Changbin’s house early so you can help with the cooking and decorating the place, and end up teaming up with Felix and Minho in the cooking department, while Hyunjin takes over the decorations and forbids everyone from approaching him while he works.

It’s not because he’s shy. It’s because he thinks you’re all terrible.

Chan arrives kind of late minute, busy working on songs, as always, while you’re putting out the drinks you’d brought with you. You greet him with a quick kiss. You still have a million things to do.

“I’ve got your hoodie in my bag, you should put it back in your car,” you just tell him as you rush back into the kitchen.

You miss the way he pouts at you.

It’s later that night, but still with a couple hours to go until midnight, that he approaches you while you’re outside, staring up at the night sky and enjoying the fresh air after hours cooped up inside. He wraps his arms around your waist, buries his head in your neck. You lean back into the familiar touch with a satisfied sigh — until he mumbles something unintelligible.

“What was that?” you ask with a frown.

Even with the only light coming through the windows of Changbin’s house, you can tell he’s blushing when he pulls away from you.

“Why aren’t you keeping my hoodies?”

You blink at him.

“…because they’re your hoodies?”

He opens his mouth, closes it.

“Yeah, but they’re kinda… your hoodies too, y’know?”

You tilt your head slowly, and soon, you’re unable to fight the grin that’s spreading on your lips as you watch him get increasingly pouty.

“Do you want me to steal your hoodies?”

The blush spreads.

“Do you like it when I wear them?”

You’re just having fun now.

“Yeah,” he answers, before cocking an eyebrow at you. “Think it’s hot, by the way.”

You burst out laughing, and he tightens his hold around you when that takes you away from him. God, do you love that man. Once you’ve collected yourself, you reach a hand up to gently cup his cheek.

“Okay, I’ll steal your hoodies. Anything for you, love.”

He smiles, satisfied, and kisses you softly. He brings a hand to cover yours, entangles his fingers with yours.

You don’t tell him, but the truth is, you feel warm and fuzzy all over inside whenever he’s around.

So you don’t see the point in having a hoodie when you can have him instead.

taglist: @lethallyprotected @jisuperboard

Masterlist

[babygorewhore]

His Doll

Continuing this blurb of Rafe Cameron falling for a goth girl. Opposites attract, right?

This wasn’t a request but I got a really good response when I wrote my blurb so I extended it! This is self indulgent but also hot and steamy!! Warnings! Blow job and unprotected sex! @xxbutdaddyilovehimxx helped me out on this!

“Look at little Tim Burton over there,” Rafe smirks at Topper when he sees you loitering at one of the expensive stores in Tanny Hill. You were completely out of place in the Outer banks. All black clothes, thick combat boots and dark makeup.

Rafe was prepared to approach you but he found himself a little nervous. Why was he nervous? You were some weird goth chick in a state where everyone wore bright colors and sandals. Why shouldn’t he go over there and mess with you? He had heard about goth chicks being freaks. That was it. That was all it was.

Until he found himself slipping beside you ten minutes later, selecting a black t-shirt much to Topper's surprise and side glances. He made sure you looked at him as he bought it. He wasn’t one to be intimidated by girls, he was used to them. Used to getting whatever he wanted until now. But you didn’t fawn over him as he watched you wander around the boardwalk a few days later.

“She must be new.” He muttered to himself. Why else would she not pay him attention? Rafe found her instagram later that night and saw she listed her Spotify. He started listening and cringed at the volume. He wasn't able to understand the lyrics at first but as the minutes went on…it was actually a little catchy.

When he worked out, Topper and Kelce looked at him like he was an alien as he blasted the music through his headphones as he worked out. “Bro, she’s got you pussy whipped.” Kelce smacked him on the shoulder and Rafe glared.

“Shut the fuck up.”

It was a mantra Rafe repeated when he finally went up to you after a week. You were…having a picnic in the middle of an empty park on a gloomy day with a big smile on your face as you wrote something in a notebook. He wore a black shirt with dark jeans, a really poor attempt to have some sort of common ground with you.

“Hey,” He cleared his throat and you removed your headphones, looking up at him with a surprisingly polite smile.

“Hi! Can I help you?” Your voice was soft. A little sweet and his cock twitched. Mmm. A good girl underneath all that darkness.

You were looking up at him from sitting at your table and he almost moaned the vision of what his future would look like with that black lipstick smeared all over his cock.

“Seen you around. I’m having a little fun tonight with some friends.” You quirked an eyebrow and he briefly wondered if he said the wrong thing.

“You’re inviting me to a party? Rafe Cameron himself?” He was stunned you knew his name before you gave him a little teasing smirk.

“I know who you are. Your royalty on this hell island.” Then you laughed. It was a bursting sound that almost made him smile. Something about the giddy way you expressed yourself made him feel even more attracted to you.

“Yeah. I can take you to my house early. We can leave anytime. I can bring you home whenever you wanna leave. You know, sacrifice to Satan or whatever.”

“You know, not all goths are satanists.” You replied and he lowered himself a little.

“Yeah? Come on. Prove me wrong, witchy girl.”

He almost didn’t expect you to accept but then he was driving to his house while your legs were crossed in his car. You were silent but not in a rude way. You were admiring the scene.

Rafe decided to collect this in his mind. You liked watching the outside. You enjoyed simpler things. Interesting. When he arrived at the party, people were already there and enjoying themselves, watched over by topper. Barry spotted him as Rafe walked you inside his penthouse booming with music but you paused.

“Is this…deftones?” You asked him and Rafe smirked.

“Yeah. They’re great. Perfect for a party near the beach.” You gave him a laugh as Barry approached him with a handshake.

“Hey country club, the fuck you doin in that shirt? Tryna impress the lady guest?” Rafe slung an arm over your shoulder, feeling the pattern of your shirt with his fingers.

“Are you impressed?” He looked down at you and you nodded.

“I am actually. Did you hack into my Spotify or something?” Rafe paused before he saw the smile on your face and he leaned down.

“Mhm. You like that, huh? Come on. Show me what you got.”

That’s when he found himself in his bedroom, with you on your knees. Black lipstick mixed with his cum as he fucked your throat. He moans as he thrusts into your soft mouth, his hand buried in your hair locked with hairspray and your eyes leaking with tears that make your makeup run down your cheeks.

“Pretty little witchy girl.” He grunts as he continues his movements and his cum spills all over you.

Witchy girl is one of his favorite nicknames he uses for you. But another one is monster high doll or vampire Barbie. You’re his little dark angel as he watches YouTube videos while you’re asleep on his bed late at night. He has watched in awe of your removal of your makeup. But you were still so beautiful. You didn’t need it but he wouldn’t risk the wrath of Satan if he spoke it.

He watched different content on different types of goths. Now that he had you, he had to keep you while you hung out with your…interesting friends today as he sat with you, hand on your upper thigh as you happily talked about topics he never considered to be beautiful or something to notice. The night sky. Full moon. Art. Music. Even horror movies started to become apart of his life. Even though it wasn’t his favorite, his little doll loved it and who was he to not keep her happy?

But something he loved doing most was surprising you with a gift. You didn’t grow up like he did. Into privilege. You told him that you shopped usually at second hand stores and he almost fainted.

So, he looked up the best pair of platform black boots and got them for you. Gift giving was easy for him but seeing your big smile and the way you screamed made it his favorite thing to see. Then you insisted you couldn’t accept.

Rafe decided what sort of payment he would take.

He spread you open on his bed, ripping off your favorite pair of lace panties that he promised to buy more of as your dripping pussy glistened for him as he kneeled, running the tip of his dick along your slick swollen clit. “Not so scary anymore, huh?” He said as he pushed inside to the hilt, balls slapping against you.

“God…” You whined as he thrusted harder and deeper, his hands holding his weight above you while your legs were hooked around his waist.

“Not god, doll. Me.” He growled and lightly slapped your face. “Remember that. Remember who owns you.”

Rafe wouldn’t trade his little witch girl for anything.

Or the way her eyeliner runs like a fucking porn star.

@marchsfreakshow @slvt4jamesmarch @xxhellfirebunnyxx @redhead1180

[gowonders]

pervy childhood best friend soobin has been rotting my brain recently,,,

conflicted by his adoration for his best friend and the nasty thoughts and feelings he has for her ><

long night ♥ c.sb

minors dni with this post!!

warnings: fem reader, perv soobin (duhhh!!), pillow humping (soobin :p), small mention of scent, size and bulge kink i think!!!

GASSSPPP YOU ARE SO RIGHT. this actually had me screaming for a second 𖦹 ´ ᯅ ` 𖦹 also lmk if you don’t like this because i can totally rewrite it!! it was just a quick little drabble i wrote in between assignments :3

soobin who’s known you since forever, soobin who’s grown up with you.. soobin who painfully notices how you’ve changed as you grown.. not emotionally— physically.

when you hang out at the park near his house, and it’s a little too warm, so you wear shorts, he notices the way your thighs squish together against the bench, or the way they slightly spill out from the denim.. making poor soobin have to cover his hard on with the folded blanket you brought to lay in later..

or when soobin comes over to your place to swim and inevitably.. you’re wearing a swimsuit.. thankfully, you’re at least wearing shorts? but those don’t even leave room for imagination, the way he can see the swell of your ass under the hem, or the way your cleavage shows in the swim top just enough.. what was going on with him? he just couldn’t stop thinking about his best friend in this light, he couldn’t help but admire your body.. and he definitely couldn’t help thinking about it when he got off with his fist, imagining it was yours instead..

you were his best friend. since childhood. it was wrong to think about you like this.. but it couldn’t be helped! you were just so perfect. not only your personality, but your body. he imagined the way your tits would roll under his larger hands, or how your pretty tummy would show a bulge when he fucked you so right.. the thoughts kept coming— it’s like his mind was always clouded with them, all he could think about was you.. and how he needed you. so bad.

so later, after you were both done swimming, you were both sat in your room, still cold and wet from the pool.

“i’m gonna shower, soobin! you’re cool in here by yourself, yeah?” you say, running your fingers through your wet hair. which leads soobin to quickly think about what those fingers are used for… until he nods quickly and gives you a smile. “yeah, yeah!! i needed to change anyways.” he says with a chuckle at the end, with all these thoughts blooming in his head, he’s gotten really good at hiding everything from you. which is definitely for the better.. if you knew what he thought of you, lord knows what’d happen..

you give him a thumbs up as you leave the room and head to your bathroom. alone. as soobin changes, he keeps eyeing your pillows. the ones you sleep on every night, maybe even drooled on a bit…?

he wastes no time sitting on your bed, fingers gently grabbing your pillow, is this wrong? of course.. but it was as close as he could get to you for now… with a swallow, he places the pillow on his lap and starts rubbing into it, biting his lip as he holds in his groans. the thought of you being only a few feet away, wet and nude really spurred him on, not to mention how you looked in your cute little swimsuit earlier.. he humped your pillow to reckless abandon. this was all so wrong, really.. but it’s not his fault, as you develop more.. he is too!! and it’s also not his fault you’re just so perfect and pretty and hot and—

his release hit him like a truck. maybe it was the smell of you on the sheets around him.. but that was faster than he thought.. and oh.. the sticky mess in his briefs. he’d have to deal with that the rest of the night..

he spots you coming back from the shower, pretty bare face and wet hair, clad with an oversized shirt (that you totally stole from him..) and shorts.. this was gonna be a long night.

[twopeoplecanchange]

CALGARY AT MIDNIGHT

quinn hughes x reader

summary: quinn needs a place to stay while going to a wedding in calgary. he gets a hook up from matthew tkachuk, who sets him up in the guest room of your apartment. finally, you won't be spending new years alone.

author's note: this is for @puckmaidens! happy holidays lydia!! i hope you enjoy :)

warnings: nothing just that my jet lagged brain wrote this, so there might be some errors!

wc: 2k

The text comes in on Thursday at 9am while you’re at work. Your phone buzzes on your desk repeatedly until you decide to pick it up.

MATTHEW T.

Hey, you still have extra space in that apartment of yours?

Your brow furrows, wondering why he would be asking this, seeing as he could easily book a nice hotel instead of staying in your dingy apartment.

YOU

Yea, why though?

His text comes in quickly, and it’s not what you expected.

MATTHEW T.

Quinn Hughes needs a place to stay for a weekend or so. Told him I could hook him up.

Of course he would do this. Matt knew of your not-so subtle crush on his childhood friend, and had asked you multiple times if he could set you guys up. You always said no. The first time, you were still with your university boyfriend, the second you just felt that it would be too awkward. Quinn, of course, would know of your crush and you would have no idea if he was even interested in you.

YOU

You’re joking. 

Matthew Tkachuk.

MATTHEW T.

I’m not joking. Get your guest bedroom ready and pick him up from the airport tomorrow.

YOUI hate you.

MATTHEW T.

Love you too 🥰

You sigh, putting your phone down before your supervisor can see. As you move through the workday, which of course just has to be as slow as ever, you can’t stop thinking about how awkward tomorrow might be; having to pick him up from the airport and housing him for three days. Would he avoid you like the plague or make an effort? You could only hope it was the latter.

On Friday morning you take the day off from work and spend the time dusting off every surface in your guest room. You change the sheets and add blankets, seeing that the heater is janky and decides to just not work on some days. You restock your fridge with food you can only hope he’ll want to eat. Then, once it’s the afternoon, you take off for the airport.

You arrive at his gate around 2, no sign, hoping your presence will be enough.

As you stand on your tippy-toes, looking for a sign of the eldest Hughes brother, two texts come in.

MATTHEW T.

Gave Quinn your phone number btw.

UNKNOWN NUMBERHey, this is Quinn. Where are you?

You elect to ignore Matt’s text and instead text Quinn.

YOU

By the coffee shop towards the exit.

You pocket your phone, eyes scanning the crowd when you see Quinn approaching you. He’s even more handsome in person, the tv screen and Matt’s shitty photos not doing him justice. It must be the captaincy. A slight beard grows on his face, his dark hair shaggy but somehow presentable. His eyes are visibly tired, and he looks nervous as he approaches you.

“Y/N?” He asks, his voice quiet and just a tad bit raspy.

“Hey, Quinn. It’s uh, nice to meet you. I mean- I’ve heard stories from Matt but I’m sure they don’t do you justice.” You smile, and Quinn nods, a faint smile on his face.

“Yeah, knowing him they’d probably put me in a worse light.” Quinn jokes as you start to head down to the car park.

“I don’t think that’s possible. You have a pretty good rep.” He nods, cheeks a little bit rosy and his small smile just a tad bit bigger.

The car ride is not as awkward as you expected, you and Quinn fall into easy banter, talking about your memories with Matt, exchanging anecdote after anecdote until you arrive at your apartment. You park and take the elevator up, both of you are silent as you watch the number tick up to the fourth floor.

You quickly both get into your apartment seeing as the hallway is freezing because of the lack of heat. Quinn takes off his shoes and puts them next to yours before settling his bags near the door.

“What would you want to do for dinner?” You ask as you look at your fridge. None of the food looks quite appetizing. Quinn looks into your fridge, his cologne overtaking your senses in the best way. It’s a nice scent, not quite as overpowering as you’d imagine. “Takeout?” You suggest.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Takeout goes surprisingly smoothly. A Christmas movie plays on the screen despite the holiday having already passed, and the two of you eat in a comfortable silence. When you’re done eating, you ask Quinn questions.

When’s the wedding? Tomorrow

Who’s it for? Childhood friend from Toronto who moved to Calgary. ‘Nothing interesting’.

Are you excited? Quinn pauses for a bit, slowly chewing as he comes up with an answer. “I don’t know. I think they expect me to bring a date because they gave me a plus one, but I couldn’t think of someone to bring.” He gets out, the words feeling stuck in his throat.

You can’t tell if this is some kind of joke, if he knows about your crush and is trying to get you interested, just to leave you in the dust.

“Right.” You nod. You tried to think of something better to say, but what he said was not what you had expected. At all.

“I mean…if you wouldn’t mind being my plus one, that would be great. Better that than being alone.” Yeah, better that than being alone. Alone, thinking of all the girls fawning over you because they most likely know who you are. 

Instead of saying something revealing, you just agree. A simple sure does the trick, and he’s thanking you. When you’re settling into bed later, you can’t help but wonder why. Is he interested in you, taking his chance? Or does he simply just not want to deal with the wedding alone? You pass out before you can even realize you don’t have a dress to wear for tomorrow.

You wake up in a panic, hurriedly making breakfast after realizing you do in fact, not have a good dress to wear to the wedding. Nothing formal, everything is either white or too extravagant. Quinn watches confused as you rush around the kitchen, and lets a small teasing comment slip, “You know we don’t have to be at the wedding till like, five, right?” He jokes and you freeze, stopping your every move.

“I don’t have a dress, and I don’t know the color scheme or the theme, and I don’t want to stand out and wear white.” You ramble without taking a single breath.

Quinn hesitates, “It’s okay, we can just go get you a dress right?” His voice is calming, and you smile slightly, turning around. “After breakfast we have to get me a dress.” Quinn nods before heading farther into the kitchen to help you out.

You end up going to a little boutique a few minutes from your house. The dresses are mainly formal, with a few outlier party dresses. Quinn follows you as you scan the racks, picking out three dresses before heading to the changing rooms.

Quinn waits on one of the chairs outside of the dressing rooms, looking at his phone occasionally. Then you step out in the first dress. Quinn blinks, droopy eyes suddenly much more awake. It’s a pretty dress, you say, but it doesn’t feel right. Quinn just can’t get rid of the thought of how beautiful you are.

“You look great,” He blabs, and you let out a startled laugh, hand covering your mouth. “Right, thanks.” You smile weakly before heading back into the dressing room.

The next dress, a startling red, looks great on you, Quinn thinks. But you huff and sigh, saying you hope the next dress is better. Quinn says it looks great, and you laugh it off.

The last dress is a calm purple. Quinn’s eyes widen. You look great. You play with your hair a bit, looking at yourself in the mirror down the hallway.

“It’s…” You start, looking for the right word. 

“Beautiful.” Quinn finishes for you, making your skin burn.

“Yeah,” You nod feebly, hurrying into the dressing room to change back into your clothes.

When you get home, you start getting ready for the wedding in a rush. Putting on the dress, doing your makeup and hair. When you finally leave your room, Quinn is leaning against the back of the couch, idly scrolling through his phone. He looks up at the sound of your door closing and freezes.

Matt had shown him multiple pictures of you, stories, and begged him to let him introduce the two of you. The photos didn’t quite capture your beauty. The stories were bland, they didn’t recall your humor and your joy. He always disagreed, not quite sure. But knowing you now, if Matt suggested setting you guys up, he’d say yes in a heart beat. He’s just not quite sure what your answer would be.

"Ready to go?" You ask, breaking Quinn from his trance. He nods blankly, extending his arm to you. Your skin warms just the slightest, and you wrap your arm around his, pulling him close. His cologne infiltrating your senses, and you blink, steadying yourself.

You drive yourself and Quinn to the venue, and take seats toward the back. A few people come his way, greeting him and asking him about the season, or congratulating him on the teams success. If one of them were to notice you, they'd ask and Quinn would say you were a friend. The couple, the past friend, fan, or the acquaintance would nod, but have a knowing look in their eyes, like they knew all. They didn't, of course, seeing as you were both attending this as friends. If you were even friends. Friend of a friend?

You shook the thought as you watched the couple do their first dance to a cute song you'd never heard the name of. When the song came to an end, every clapped, including you. You didn't notice, too busy watching the newly married couple fondly, but Quinn was watching you, a slight smile on his face.

Once dinner was served, you learned the true meaning of the couple's, wedding. They wanted the party to go to midnight since it was New Year's Eve. They'd have the count down on the screen, and the couple would share a kiss in the center of the room. Any couple would be welcomed to share a kiss as well. It was cute, you thought. If you had someone to kiss you would. It would be a fond memory to share.

The people at the table you were seated at weren't quite close to Quinn, but you made conversation enough for the both of you. As people at the table drifted off to dance, you found yourself in conversation with Quinn. Talking about everything from his brothers, your family, to hockey.

Then, the DJ announced a couple's dance, and the last two people at the table, a couple, got up. They shared a glance before gesturing for you two to join them. You hadn't noticed, but it was nearing midnight, with just around two songs until midnight. Quinn shared a glance with you, and then you stood up, holding out your hand towards him.

Quinn looked worried, but he gently takes your hand and lets you pull him to the dance floor. You have a bright but nervous smile on your face as you settle your hands on Quinn's shoulders, his hesitantly on your waist. You sway side to side as some sappy love song plays. Your eyes get lost in his, but then the music changes to something more jumping, and your eyes get lost. Lights bounce across the room as a time is displayed on the wall. The countdown.

You start jumping along to the music, Quinn as well with a fond smile on his face. Your smile is bright as you shout the words to the club song that Quinn doesn't know the name of. But then the shouting becomes different The countdown. Quinn blinks, starting to yell the numbers as well. Then it gets to eight, and you're turning toward Quinn, eyes locking with his again. Your hands place on his shoulders again, and his hands go to your hips much more confidently. You're both mouthing the numbers until you get to five, and everything changes. The air is different. Tense, you think. Then it hits one, and everyone's cheering. Hey, maybe you're a little bit off on the time, but you kiss him and he kisses you back, and that's all that matters.

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 22

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

I had gotten through Dr. Stevenson’s class with flickering eyes in the dim lighting. Knowing that Dr. Miller was right next door teaching his other course had me thinking about him.

Was he making people laugh? What material was he teaching? And the question I tried not to let creep into my jealous, little mind - is he attracted to anyone in that class? I don't know why I did that to myself, but I couldn't help my inner baseless insecurities. Still, I didn't let it consume me. I was the one who had a key to his house. I was the one who was attending his sister’s wedding in a few weeks. I was the one sleeping beside him on a nightly basis.

Be cool, I told myself. Our romance was too hot and steamy for me to attempt, or even pretend, to be cool.

When I wandered out into the hallway in the crowd of other students, I glanced down toward the closed door near the end of the hall and smiled to myself. I then whipped out my phone to find text messages from both Dr. Miller and James - who had been walking me to my car regularly on Wednesday nights.

Before clicking on Dr. Miller’s, I expected his typical racy text that made the extra hour without him feel ten times as long. I smiled to myself when it read: Please be careful. Let me know when you get home. I still don't trust the campus security.

I had to admit I enjoyed Dr. Miller’s healthy dose of jealousy towards James. It made me feel less guilty for having my own insecure thoughts. I guess it was just human nature, to some degree.

I wrote him back, promising I would text him when I arrived at my car and then again at home. I added a heart emoji and hit send before moving on to James’s text, which let me know he’d see me in the parking lot. A part of me felt just a bit needy for asking him to come by every Wednesday at this time; but I knew Dr. Miller’s concerns for my safety wouldn't allow for me to be alone after dark on campus - even for just a minute or two. I didn’t particularly think I needed James, but I know, despite his distaste for another male to come to my aid, it made Dr. Miller feel better. That was enough for me.

Gotta pee, long ride home! I texted back to James, adding, See ya in a second. Thanks!!

I stuffed my phone back into my bag and wandered into the women's bathroom in a nook by the elevators.

When I hung my bag and sat in the stall, my phone buzzed again. Tori.

Her text came through: Hey, thanks for the two months in advance. You didn’t have to! Btw, I have a huge question. Nothing bad. Call when you can.

Big question? What could it be? And I certainly didn’t pay two months in advance.

Dr. Miller. It had to be him.

I quickly tapped her name and hit the little phone icon and put the receiver up to my ear.

“Hey!” My friend answered in a cheery voice, “Didn’t think you’d call back so quickly!”

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Ahh…” She breathed the word and I knew she was hesitant to ask whatever it was she was about to. “So.. um.. Derek.”

I smiled to myself, thinking I had an inclination of what this was about. And I actually thought it would solve a few of my inner monologue issues, especially since Dr. Miller insisted on having me at his place every night.

“You want him to move in,” I speculated. It caused a long pause on the other end and I finally asked, “Tori?” Maybe I was wrong. Maybe they broke up. Maybe-

“Yeah. I feel like a dirtbag for asking-”

“Why?” I practically shouted, and then put a hand over my mouth with a little laugh when I heard the door open to the restroom.

“Because it’s our place and I know adding a dude to the mix could make it awkward.”

“Well.. honestly.. Dr.-” I caught myself and stopped for a second.

“Doctor?”

“I.. well.. Hmm..” I reset. “Joel gave me a key to his place.”

“What!?” Tori exclaimed.

“I know I've been staying there a lot,” I went on.

“(Y/N) it's totally okay.” She laughed. “So, is he like your hot sugar daddy?”

I laughed again and glanced to the side when I heard someone shuffling around. “No. I am falling for him pretty hard though.” And then I added, “I think it's great if Derek moves in.”

“Really?” Tori squeaked.

“Really.”

“I feel like we haven't seen each other. We need to meet up this week and really talk.”

“Definitely. How about Friday after work?”

“Yes!”

“Okay. Congrats on Derek.”

“Congrats on your hot old man.”

I laughed. “Alright. I'll see you soon.”

“Bye.”

The door handle turned and I cleared my throat. “Oh, someone’s in here.” A knock followed. “Be right out.”

I got myself together and felt the muscles in my stomach tense when there was another, louder knock. This time I didn’t answer right away. And then came a loud bang that caused me to jump back a few inches. I almost shrieked but I held it in.

“I’ll be right out!” I shouted now, beginning to use my phone. When the door handle twisted again, I used the best verbal defense I could think of. “I’m calling campus security!”

The pounding stopped. The door handle twisting stopped. I breathed heavily a few times and swallowed hard as I heard the faintest sound of footsteps. As badly as I wanted to peek out of the crack in the door, fear had me pinned against the wall of the bathroom stall.

I heard the creak of the door and then there was silence. I began texting Dr. Miller, though before I hit send I stopped myself. He was teaching a class. I didn’t want to bother him and pull him out of class. Not to mention there was no good reason why, according to the university, I should be phoning my professor.

“Fuck.” I whispered the word to myself. I wanted to call him, but I knew it wouldn’t be a good look. On the same note, I knew when I told him about this later, he’d be pissed that I didn’t call him.

I went with my next best option. James.

Until I heard the door crack open again, and my friend’s familiar voice called hesitantly into the women’s bathroom, I remained behind the locked door - not that someone couldn’t have gotten under the bottom of it if they really wanted to. Still, I wasn’t about to tiptoe out, only to be ambushed.

“(Y/N),” James called, “It’s me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I cleared my throat and finally managed to open the door. I quickly washed my hands and then hurried back out into the civilization - which at the moment was only James and I.

“Are you okay?” He asked, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah.” I took a deep breath and brushed my hair back. “I don’t even know what happened. I was.. I don’t know if someone was just being impatient, or..” My eyes met his, “I don’t know.”

“Did it seem like a threat?”

I shrugged. “They tried opening the door, and I told them I was in there. And then they just kept knocking and pounding at the door and twisting the handle.” I shook my head, “It was probably someone just having a bad day, or.. I don’t know.”

“Let’s make it a formal complaint,” James suggested, but I shook my head.

“No. No, I’m sure it was nothing.”

“You have to,” he insisted, “You can’t be too careful. With everything that’s happened here, it needs to be reported.” James pulled out a small notebook from his shirt pocket.

I scrunched my nose. “Do you have to include my name?”

He shook his head. “I’ll keep that part to myself.” James made a face, “Unless they really need it for some reason.”

“Okay.” I agreed. He took the details of what had happened and then proceeded to walk me the rest of the way to my car, flashing his light in my back seat just before I hopped in.

“Thank you, James.” I gave him a hug. “I appreciate your help.”

“You’re welcome.” He gave a small grin. “Any time you need someone, I’m here. I know you take a few night classes here so just make sure you don’t walk alone.”

“I won’t.”

“Be careful.”

I nodded and began to duck into the driver’s seat.

“Hey, (Y/N).”

“Yeah?” I glanced up at him as I settled in.

“Do you still live on that dead end street with Tori?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Why?”

James shrugged. “You just said you had a long ride home. I didn’t know if you moved, or if you were staying with your parents or something.”

“Oh.” Shit, I had slipped. “Yeah, tonight I’m actually.. Staying somewhere else.”

“Oh.” His eyebrows rose and fell and it appeared as though he was waiting for an explanation. When I failed to elaborate James cleared his throat. “Well, stay safe.”

“Thanks for helping me out.”

“No problem.”

I waved goodbye and closed the door, locking it as I started it up. Before I put it in drive, Dr. Miller’s text came through, asking if I was on my way home.

How much do I tell him right now?

I hesitated before leaving it at: Pulling out of the parking lot now.

Are you okay to be in that big house alone? He asked.

The thought did freak me out a bit. But I knew it was probably the safest place for me to be. If it wasn’t, Dr. MIller wouldn’t be comfortable sending me off there alone.

I wrote back: If I say no will you hurry home?

I’ll hurry home anyway.

I smiled to myself and began the drive back up the desolate highway into the heart of the Catskills. After weeks of spending the night at Dr. MIller’s mansion, I couldn’t imagine not staying there.

The longer I drove with my music playing, the less I thought of the incident in the bathroom. It was when I finally reached the tall, steel gates surrounded by nothing but woods that my anxiousness grew. I had to physically get out of the car to do the code. That was when all thoughts of the bathroom came rushing back.

Dr. Miller was over a half hour away. He wasn’t here to protect me. What if that was some psycho killer? What if someone was here now? My mind rushed to all the worst case scenarios now that I was forced with the task of getting out of the car to open the gates. It was dark. It was scary - at least without Dr. Miller it was.

“Grow up,” I whispered to myself. I knew if I was going to be living there, or kind of living there, that I would have to do this.

I opened the door and hugged my body, glancing around at the swaying trees all around me. Snow still sat in patches around the area from the small storms and the pavement was dark and damp.

2003. It was four numbers, and then I could get back in the car, drive up, get comfortable and wait for my knight in shining armor.

I left the car door open and clutched my keys as I slowly paced the uphill pathway toward the key pad. A whistle from the wind made me whip around in all directions and I had to catch my breath and remind myself that I was fine. It was just the desolate surroundings and the murders on campus that had me jumpy.

Very valid reasons, I reminded myself.

I reached for the keypad and punched in 2-0 as a set of headlights rolled up the drive, illuminating trees off to the left as it rounded a bend before was in the crosshairs of the beams.

That was the last straw. I didn't know whether to keep typing or run back to my car. I did neither. I froze.

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @jiminstinypinky @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676

[inkbyajm]

of kindling sparks

masterlist: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

tropes: fluff, slow-burn

warnings: 11 year age-gap (reader is 23, joel is 34)

word count: ~6000

author’s note: so this chapter as well as the next one basically serve as one long exposition before the main story (aka the prequel). i realise this is lengthy as hell but i needed to flesh out the relationship between joel and the reader for the upcoming chapters to hurt, you know?

(p.s. there's mention of joel carrying the reader. i know some people might be put off by this, but joel is quite buff. i mean the man works in construction, i promise he can handle carrying an adult for less than a minute)

————-　❈　————-

The air was getting chillier, the change of seasons not going unnoticed. (Y/N)'s focus was razor-sharp as she drove through the streets of Austin, making sure to take in the ever-changing leaves on the trees she passed by. As an exchange student, it wasn't cheap to be renting a car, and the money her parents were generously providing her could only last for so long. She desperately needed another source of income. Her prayers were answered the week prior when she stumbled upon an advertisement near the exit to her university. It was for a babysitting job with a decent pay and convenient working hours. She wrote an email to the address written on the poster:

Dear Mr. Miller, Is the babysitting job still available? I'm a student currently on an exchange program at the University of Texas. And while I haven't had prior experience in babysitting, I used to be an assistant teacher in a kindergarten. I'm very good with children and at keeping them alive (this is a joke, but I am pretty responsible, my mother can attest to this). If there is any need for it, I can also cook and clean up after each visit. Thank you for your consideration and I hope to hear from you soon!

Sincerely, (Y/N) (L/N)

To which, much to her surprise, she received an answer shortly after:

Dear Ms. (L/N), Yes, the babysitting job is still available. It's for my 12-year-old daughter Sarah. And while I appreciate all that you have to offer, there's nothing much to do but keep her alive, so your skill would be useful here. You can come by our house on 1411 Sullivan DR any day of the week after 5pm, we'll go over the details then. If you're still interested, you'll be able to start right away. See you soon!

Best regards, Joel Miller

After half-an-hour of driving, the house finally came into view. Just as she parked the car in the vacant driveway, and before she went to meet some stranger she hoped wouldn't turn out to be a creep, the girl gathered her wits and courage with a clasp of her hands, a deep breath, and a firm nod as if to say 'There's no going back now, and if I die, it is what it is'.

Her three knocks on the door were followed by a long pause which made her believe she had arrived either at the wrong time or the wrong house. But as she was about to turn around and flee in embarrassment, out came a middle-aged man with disheveled hair.

"Hello. Is this the Miller's house?"

"Yes, hi! I am so sorry I kept you waiting. (Y/N), right?" he said, wiping his hands on a rag.

"That's me."

"Great. I'd shake your hand, but mine are a bit dirty. Please, come in." he stepped out of the way to let her walk further into his home.

It was decently spacious and cozy, which temporarily put her at ease. They walked through the living room into the dimly lit kitchen. It smelled of spices and garlic.

He gestured around, "Welcome to our humble abode. Pardon the mess, I didn't exactly have time to tidy up," While it wasn't exactly messy, they could benefit from an extra set of hands. "You said you weren't from around here?"

"No, I'm quite a long way from home," (Y/N) said, taking a seat at the dining table. "I wanted to see other places, gain a bit of independence. Austin was one of the first to accept me, and since it seemed like a fine city to live in, I packed up my things and arrived at the beginning of summer."

"I'm Texas born and raised myself. Wouldn't dream of living anywhere else. How old are you exactly?"

"Twenty-three, sir."

He proceeded to rummage through the fridge that was almost full. "Alright. Would you like a beer, then? And please, call me Joel. You're making me feel old."

"Right, Joel. And sure, I'll have one if you do."

Joel handed her a cold bottle as he sat down across from her. She was familiar with the brand, they served it at the bar she worked at part-time on weekends. For the next hour-and-a-half, the two discussed (Y/N)'s life, her studies, Joel's job as a contractor, and Sarah. At some point, the attacks on 9/11 came up, unpacking the nation-wide terror they had brought. She recalled the panicked calls she received from her parents, begging her to come home. She had to explain that she was alright, that there was nothing to do about it now, and that she couldn't leave the city when she had already formed ties and taken on responsibilities.

Just as Joel was getting into another anecdote from Sarah's childhood, they heard keys jangling in the front door as it opened and shut.

"Speak of the devil. Done playing already?"

A soft voice rang through the house, "Yeah, I'm really tired." Then a pigtailed girl stopped abruptly at the entrance to the kitchen. She was wearing a soccer kit, carrying both a purple backpack as well as a blue duffel bag.

"Sarah, this is (Y/N). She's gonna be your nanny from now on."

The little girl hesitated at first, then gently approached the table and extended her small hand for her to shake. "Nice to meet you." she said with as much courage as she could muster, earning a smile in return.

Getting up from his seat, Joel kissed his daughter's head and told her food was ready, which prompted the child to run upstairs to her room. Feeling like it was her cue to leave, (Y/N) followed suit and slung her bag on her shoulder.

"Would you like to stay for dinner? I'm not much of a chef, but I have to admit I make a mean chili." said the man, pointing at the steaming pot on the stovetop.

The smell of a homemade meal was making her mouth water, but she hadn't known them for long enough to get comfortable. "Thank you for your hospitality, but I should really get going. I have some reading to finish before morning."

The two made their way back to the front door. "Alright, then. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, yeah?"

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Miller- Joel, sorry." she corrected herself, waving him goodbye as she swiftly got into her car and began the drive back to her apartment. She hadn't even begun the job, yet (Y/N) couldn't help but feel giddy about her small success.

————-　❈　————-

A couple of months had passed and (Y/N) was really enjoying her new gig. Sarah turned out to be the sweetest girl the young woman had ever had the pleasure of knowing. She wasn't fussy or troublesome, was very well-mannered, oh-so-friendly and kind, and a fan of using sarcasm here and there, which seemed to be something she picked up from her father. Joel, too, was accommodating to the new addition of their little family. (Y/N) could sense, however, that he was somewhat more reserved - closed, even. It was harder to get to know her employer, but she didn't mind, these things took time.

Leaning against her car, the young woman read her copy of 'Pride and Prejudice' for the 4th or 5th time. Something about it brought her great comfort, especially during the colder months. The festive season was quickly approaching and she wasn't sure if gifts would be appropriate so early-on in her employment. She had zoned out for so long, she didn't have time to register her name being called nor a pair of arms swiftly wrapping around her waist.

"Hey, kiddo." she laughed, hugging the curly-haired girl back.

She let go and stared up at her babysitter with her big round eyes. "Did daddy send you to pick me up?"

"No, I just finished classes and thought I'd swing by."

"What are you reading?"

(Y/N) turned the book to show the cover, "Pride and Prejudice. It's an old book."

"What's it about?"

"Uh- well, it's about a lot of things, but mainly it's the story of Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy who have to overcome their differences to end up together. Hence the title."

"That sounds kind of interesting."

"Yeah, but it takes a lot of hatred and pettiness to get there."

The little girl shook her head in disapproval, "Adults. Why do they have to complicate things?"

"Alright, wise one. Get in before you get cold."

The car ride gave them more time to bond. They sang to Sarah's favourite songs and talked about whatever was on the little genius's mind. It was a unique experience for both of them, two feminine energies collided, something each of them longed for dearly.

At home, (Y/N) spent a significant amount of time helping Sarah with her homework: a bunch of English grammar exercises, essay writing, as well as some algebra. Following their arduous work, the girls decided they deserved some fun and made creamy pasta (one of Sarah's favourites) for dinner. Whilst waiting for the patriarch to come home, they got comfortable on the couch to watch 'Mrs. Doubtfire'.

Unsure if she should speak during the movie, Sarah poked her babysitter's arm. "Do you have siblings?"

"I don't, no. Why do you ask?"

"I don't have any either. Do you ever get lonely?"

(Y/N) wasn't sure where these questions were coming from, but she decided to entertain them anyway. "I used to, growing up. Though my parents did a very good job at making sure I felt loved at home. I miss them a lot, but I'm happy here too."

There was a long pause as Sarah was visibly deep in her thoughts. "I never knew my mom," It shouldn't have shocked the young woman, she assumed Joel and his wife had separated after noting the absence of a maternal presence in their home, but it still came as a surprise. "Daddy said she had her own reasons and that they both agreed for me to live with him."

"Adults always have their own reasons for things, even if it may seem dumb. I'm sure it was a very difficult decision to make for her and that she loves you very much."

"I don't think about her often anymore. My dad can be busy, but he does a good job. He comes to every game, takes me to fairs and carnivals, helps me with school projects. He's also extra cool on vacation."

Something about her remark pulled at (Y/N)'s heart. "I see. He seems like a really great dad." The girls went right back to watching Robin Williams dance around while doing chores, as if they hadn't just touched on a thought-provoking subject.

It was almost 11pm and Joel was nowhere to be seen. Instead of letting the girl pass out on the couch, (Y/N) let her hold onto her back as she carried the sleepy child all the way to her room. Making sure all was right, she put her to bed, closed the window, turned on the night-light, then made her way towards the door.

"You're really cool," Sarah said sleepily with her eyes closed. "I hope you stay for a long time."

No compliment in the world could compare to a kid's heartfelt approval. "I hope so too, sweetie. Good night and good dreams."

Walking back downstairs, the young woman took one look around the house and decided she could pass the time cleaning up here and there. She started by tidying up the living room: folding the throws, fluffing up the pillows, putting the board games back on the bookshelf. Then she moved onto the kitchen where she took the trash out, scrubbed the surfaces clean as silently as she could, put the leftover pasta away, and washed the dishes. Satisfied with her work, she went back up to Sarah's room to leave a glass of water by her bed in case she got thirsty in the middle of the night.

In a house that was dead silent, she heard heavy footsteps. In a short panic, she grabbed a pair of scissors that were lying on the desk and crept up closer to the door. The steps were agonisingly slow and calculated. The woman felt like she was in a slasher movie. Babysitters always die first. The only indication she had of the intruder's whereabouts was from the shadow that was created by the light from the kitchen. This is what you get for not turning on every single light in a house where you're all by yourself. One of the most important rules in horror movies, she thought. The shadow approached closer and closer to the door, and just when she hoped the distance was close enough, she leapt out of the room and went straight for the stranger. Unfortunately, her blow was blocked and her body pushed up against the wall. In a blink, she realised what had happened.

"What the hell, Joel?" she whisper-shouted.

"(Y/N)? What are you still doing here?"

"Doing my job. Couldn't let Sarah stay all by herself with no indication of when you'd be back. That would be irresponsible of me."

He let go of her arms, lazily rubbing his face. "You're right, I'm sorry. I got held up and my cellphone died. I'm so exhausted, I completely forgot you were here."

"It's all good, I didn't hear you arrive either," she paused, noticing the blood running down his left hand. "Oh my God, Joel, you're bleeding!"

He looked at the wound like he hadn't even felt it until then, "Oh, this is nothin'. I had worse accidents at work."

"Still, it could get infected. Please, take a seat in the kitchen, I'll be right back."

She went straight to the bathroom to fetch the first-aid kit. It was essential to know where it was, what it had and how to use everything as someone who had to watch a small human being. She went back downstairs to start working on Joel's injury.

"I'm so sorry. I was so caught up in my own mind, I thought you were an intruder, and it was the only weapon at hand-"

"Please don't apologise. It was my bad, really. I should have announced myself," he spoke as he watched her gently clean the cut with a saline cleansing wipe. "Can't blame you for doing your best to defend yourself. Takes courage."

(Y/N) realised that upon closer inspection, her employer was quite handsome. Dark messy hair, a somewhat upkept beard, broad build, crow's feet that indicated how often he smiled, as well as nose wrinkles that indicated how often he frowned. She carefully applied medical tape to close-off the wound and went to put the kit back where it belonged. On her way down, she noticed him looking around in slight confusion.

"Did you…clean the house?"

"Oh, you know, just lightly tidied up. I'm not a fan of leaving the places I stay at messy. Kind of a habit," she noted the silence and her hands instantly became cold. "God, I'm sorry. Again. I- I didn't even ask if you were okay with me touching your belongings, I got-"

"No, you're good. You're good. Don't sweat it. It's just that," Joel chuckled at her need to be so polite after months of working together. "You didn't have to do this. I can't ask you do to things that aren't part of your job description."

"I know. And I don't mind. Really. It's not like I'm playing Cinderella day and night," she said as they shared a laugh. "My job is to take care of a kid and the environment plays a big role."

(Y/N) picked up her bag, ready to leave for the night, "See you on Monday, Joel."

He reached out to touch her shoulder, then just as quickly removed his hand as if she had burned him. "Uh- do you- are you- um," She looked at him with furrowed brows, it's almost as if he was…flustered? "What are your plans for Christmas? Or, you know, holiday season? If you celebrate anything at all-"

"I won't be able to fly out to see my family this year, so I haven't made any other plans yet. Why do you ask?"

The man scratched his neck sheepishly, only then realising how long he had kept her standing on his porch when it wasn't exactly warm outside. "Would you like to celebrate with us? Sarah would be ecstatic to have you."

Warmth blossomed in her chest at the sudden invitation. So gifts are appropriate. Noted.

"I would love to celebrate the holidays with you guys. But only if you don't mind."

"I don't mind."

"Excellent, then I'll be here."

"Great."

"Good."

They stared at each other for way too long, the nanny realised, bearing the slightest of smiles. "Well, then. Good night, Mr. Miller."

He shook his head at her teasing tactic, "Drive safe, Ms. (L/N)."

There she was again, driving back to her apartment, giggling to herself like a maniac and for what? They invited her to celebrate a holiday. People did that all the time. Office workers, family members, casual friends, new and old lovers, it was truly nothing exceptional. But to her it felt different and she couldn't tell if it was because Sarah liked her enough to want her there or if it was because it came from him. Christmas was three weeks away. Three. Weeks. Away. Gifts. She needed gifts. What would she give them? What did they like? It came to her that she didn't know them that well, which meant she had some investigating to do in the little time she had left for shopping.

————-　❈　————-

When Christmas finally came, (Y/N) simply could not contain her excitement. She thought long and hard about the presents she would give the Millers, and while they may have appeared simple, she hoped that they would be appreciated. She personally wrapped them up in brown paper and decorated them with stamps, ribbons, and tags, firmly believing in the art of gift-wrapping. Austin had yet to see snow, she didn't think it would ever happen, yet the city was nevertheless bursting with festive spirit. Various lights decorated the trees and bushes in public parks. People hosted diverse markets in the streets where they sold artisanal goods and delicious foods. (Y/N) had gone ice-skating with the Millers a couple of weeks prior. Joel was as bad as she thought he would be; Sarah, however, was a natural. They enjoyed a lively Christmas parade that same day.

After parking in front of the house that was very tastefully decorated with her help, the young woman made her way towards the door, her homemade chocolate tarte in hand, and knocked, taking a second to register a male voice she did not recognise. The door swung open to reveal a man not much older than her, wearing a plaid shirt and dark blue jeans.

Looking her up and down, the stranger gave her a smirk, "And who might you be?"

"Hands off the babysitter, Tommy!" she heard Joel yell from deep inside the house.

"Ah, the famous babysitter!" he exclaimed, opening the door further. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

It smelled of oven-roasted turkey, of cigarette smoke, and of pine from the christmas tree. She found all of them moving about the kitchen: cutting vegetables, setting the table, washing the dishes. She felt like she'd arrived a tad too late.

"Can I help with anything?" she said, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room.

"Nah, everything's good to go," Joel replied as he scrubbed the remaining pots, "(Y/N), this is Tommy, my brother."

Said brother took her hand and placed a tender kiss on the back of it, "Very nice to meet you." Sarah couldn't hide her look of disgust if she tried.

"I didn't know Joel had a brother."

"You didn't tell her about me?" Tommy asked in exaggerated disbelief.

"Was I supposed to? Didn't know I was running a datin' agency."

"Thought that was part of the deal when we agreed to be each other's wingmen."

"Mm, don't recall us ever doing that."

"Well, we did. Spiritually. When we went to Buddy's Place? It was just around the time when Cat-" Tommy's monologue cut short with one sharp glare from Joel. (Y/N) could practically taste the tension emanating from him. Not a big fan of reminiscing the past, she noted.

"You know what, it's no problem. It's the perfect occasion to get to know each other, eh?" the younger brother flashed her a smile. They sure had impressive genes in this family.

Once the eldest Miller was done cleaning, all three adults cracked open a few cold ones to start off the evening. Tommy had the brilliant idea to teach Sarah a few card tricks, peaking their guest's interest.

"What are you teaching a 12-year-old cards for?" (Y/N) amusedly asked. Sarah seemed excited, she was one of those kids who loved to learn, it didn't matter what it was.

"First of all, every member of the Miller family knows how to play cards, we start young. And second, if not me, then who?" He made a good point. Tommy was, after all, the fun brother. "Wanna join in? I'm told I'm a great teacher."

She caught onto the subtle flirt and found herself wanting to return the energy. He was tall, he was dark, he was handsome. He smelled of cigarettes and beer with a hint of citrus notes. Not bad with kids but he wouldn't want any of his own anytime soon; very friendly, which for him also meant outgoing, ballsy, and prone to getting into trouble; charming to the point that he might seduce a few dozen women in one night; funny enough to make people like and maybe even trust him. She didn't mind flirting, but that was the extent of her intentions, and something told her Tommy Miller felt the same way.

They spent some time watching as Tommy performed the most outrageous tricks seen to man, to which his sole excuse was "I'm a bit rusty". He also tried to teach Sarah the art of cheating which, much to his disappointment and sorrow, his niece refused to take part in for moral reasons. (Y/N) noted the elder Miller's absence and excused herself from the oh-so-riveting demonstration of a disappearing card to go look for him. After searching the kitchen, his bedroom, as well as the garage, she stepped outside with a throw blanket and found him sitting on one of the patio chairs.

"What are you doing here? You'll get cold." he said, glancing at her from the side.

"I'm tougher than I look," she answered, nevermind the blanket tightly wrapped around her frame. "Came to keep you company."

"Who said I need any?" She sensed a hint of a playful tone.

"I don't know, you look awfully lonely sitting next to that empty chair." This earned her a light chuckle as she sat down. He didn't look very warm with one hand in his jacket pocket and his collar lifted up to his chin. She proceeded to awkwardly move her chair closer to his and slowly, as if dealing with a wild animal, reached out to wrap the throw around both of them, thankful that it was big enough for the job.

Sensing how still and tense he was, (Y/N) felt the need to talk to lighten the mood, "So, do you always sit outside all by yourself? In the dark? And in complete silence? Brooding-"

"I get the picture, and no," he took a sip from his bottle. "Sometimes I like to sit in my car."

He was capable of humour, which was a refreshing discovery after countless weeks of being formal. She understood wanting to define clear boundaries between employer and employee, but when she was essentially tasked to bond with his child and regularly invited to family activities, the lines naturally blurred, and her curiosity intensified.

"Who's Cat?"

Joel was silent for a second, then let out a reluctant sigh, "Cat was…a girl I knew way back when I was young."

"You're talking like you're in your 50s."

"I'm 34 to be precise, but fine, back when I was younger," he said grumpily. "We dated for a bit, then we didn't. That's how it went with most women I met."

"Oh, is this a Casanova situation?"

"No, more of a 'not ready to commit to a kid' situation," The silence that followed was loud, (Y/N) didn't want to make a sound, afraid he'd realise what he was doing and shut himself off. "I was 21 when Sarah was born. She's the joy of my life, I don't know what I'd do or where I'd be without her, truly. But...it was hard back then for a single dad with a newborn. Never went to college, had to take on side jobs to sustain both of us. My love life wasn't exactly a priority, and when the opportunity presented itself, they fled as soon as they heard the mention of a child."

The next question was risky, but she couldn't think of anything else, "So you haven't dated since your younger days? Not even the hot single moms in your area?"

This made Joel laugh heartily, a sound she loved to listen to, something she wanted to hear more often. "Not really. I mean I've flirted here and there, but Sarah and I are good the way we are now. She's my priority, and I want to make sure my partner's good to my kid too, you know?"

"If you don't mind my asking, what happened to Sarah's mom?" (Y/N) probed further, "Sarah told me-"

"Nothing happened. She left and that was that." The wall was back up. You pushed your luck.

Luckily for them, Sarah called for everyone to play cards. Which was then followed by board games. What they discovered that evening is that (Y/N) was either incredibly skilled at them or simply unbelievably lucky. She and Tommy got on well, making innocent physical contact here and there, high-fiving each other, sharing a lot of laughter, too much laughter for the man that sat across from them. Joel wasn't jealous, he was never jealous, but the sight didn't make him feel happy either.

After a while, the oven beeped, indicating that the turkey was ready. The four of them prepared the table with bowls of salads, bread slices, side-dishes, making space in the centre for the bird accompanied by roasted vegetables. (Y/N) joined in their prayer before they dug into their food. They shared all sorts of life stories: Tommy's time in the army, the most frustrating clients Joel had ever had, more embarrassing anecdotes from Sarah's childhood, funny and dramatic events that occurred while (Y/N) was on vacation. The young woman then brought out the tarte she'd made for the occasion, much to everyone's delight. It was as silky as she hoped it would be, tasting notes of coffee in her chocolate dessert covered in walnut crumbs. The ambience was relaxing, they sat under the dim light of the scented candles dispersed throughout the kitchen, bathing in the sounds of laughter and utensils scraping against the food on their plates.

When all was devoured, they moved the party back to the living room and Tommy decided it was time for presents. Sarah received hers first, which turned out to be a collection of CDs of her favourite musicians from Tommy and a skateboard she'd wanted for a long time from her dad. She hugged each of them very tightly, already excited to put both of her new belongings to use. Then it was Joel's turn to unwrap a brand new wallet gifted by his brother (apparently, he had complained about his old one he owned for more than a decade) and a second-hand guitar from Sarah that she acquired from a friend's cousin then paid for a cleaning by a professional with her own pocket-money (with a little help from uncle Tommy). Tommy received a steel lighter from Joel, who claimed the custom engraving – a hand-drawn cowboy hat on the front and T. Miller on the bottom – was Sarah’s touch. Just when everyone thought they were done, (Y/N) cleared her throat, calling for their attention, whilst dragging her bag closer to where she sat on the floor.

“I brought gifts of my own.” She declared and pulled out a box and gave it to Tommy, whom she'd met only hours ago. “I’m sorry, I took this just in case someone else would be here, but I wish I had gotten to know you sooner to customise the present to your taste- “

“Oh my sweet God,” he muttered, staring at the large crystal bottle of whiskey. “This is one of the fanciest kind around, it ain’t fuckin’ cheap either!”

“You’re lucky Tommy here is a whiskey connoisseur.” Joel said from his laid-back position on the couch.

The younger brother engulfed her in a warm hug soon after, “You got my taste just right, sweetheart, thank you.”

The room was silent as she extended a purple envelope to Sarah, who sat across from her. It didn’t seem all too exciting. The kid in question opened the envelope, eyeing her babysitter, who herself seemed a bit nervous. The silence in the room was suddenly broken as the 12-year-old squealed her hardest squeal, forcing both Millers to cover their ears.

“It’s two VIP tickets to the Halican Drops concert in Houston next year!” she exclaimed, launching herself at the now grinning woman. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“How’d you get those? I thought they were sold out.” her father asked, clearly having gone through the struggle of standing in long queues to make his daughter happy.

It was difficult to breathe with a prepubescent child sitting in your lap as she held you in a death-grip. “I have an old friend who happens to work at the venue.” she replied, accepting the kiss on the cheek from Sarah who sat back on the ground, practically buzzing as she stared at the pieces of paper in her hands.

Lastly, (Y/N) got up to stand in front of Joel as he looked up at the object she extended in complete surprise.

“You really didn’t have to- “

“Just open it.”

So he did. What he found inside was a Prussian blue knit scarf.

“I noticed you never wear one, and it’s pretty chilly out, so I figured I’d knit you one myself. Finished it just in time a couple of days ago. The color looks flattering on you.” she explained, blushing deeper and deeper with every word. She failed to notice that he, too, was heating up.

“Well, I’ll be damned. This woman can bake, she can knit, she’s smart, and she plays cards like a pro. I mean what can’t you do?” And while she knew Tommy was teasing, she couldn’t help but redden even more.

“I’m pretty proud of my mixing skills,” she added, making him pause with a face that read ‘no way’. “I’m a bartender on the weekends.”

She had barely finished her sentence when she yelped as Tommy scooped her up and over his shoulder. “That’s it! I’m taking this one with me. It was nice to see ya, big brother!”

(Y/N) squealed and wiggled around as much as she could to try to get him to let her down whilst Sarah did her best to save her friend by clinging to one of her uncle’s legs in protest. It was one chaotic scene unfolding in front of Joel, who had not moved from his seat, still staring at the scarf in his hands as he ran his thumb over the soft wool.

After all that excitement, the household members spent a few more hours watching ‘Home Alone 2’ and ‘Jingle All the Way’, DVDs Joel had bought earlier that week. During the viewing, he caught himself glancing at the woman curled up against the arm rest less than a few feet away from him. She remained completely oblivious, amused by the tomfoolery happening on-screen. He left the room for a moment to dispose of his empty bottle in the kitchen. On the short way there, he realised he was slightly tipsy. While he was rummaging through the drawers, he heard someone come up behind him.

“Looking for this?” he turned around to see (Y/N) holding up the bottle-opener. She walked up to the counter and opened the bottle in his hand, brushing her cold fingers against his warm ones in the process.

“You’re cold.” he commented bluntly.

“Yeah, my extremities get cold easily. That’s why I walk around in gloves and thick socks as soon as the temperature starts dropping.”

She threw away her own empty bottle and swiftly turned around to walk back into the living room, when she felt his hand wrap around her wrist ever so gently.

“I didn’t get to thank you back there. You know, for the present?” he spoke softly, giving her a rare smile. “It was real nice of you.”

She noticed the way his pupils were slightly wider than usual and his stance that seemed to swing back-and-forth ever so subtly. “Joel, are you…are you drunk?”

“It takes a lot more than a few bottles of IPA to get me there. I’m just fine.” he whispered, for what reason she wasn’t sure, then unexpectedly walked up the stairs to his bedroom. He didn’t leave her to contemplate her next actions for too long because he emerged not even a minute later, holding his right hand behind his back.

They found themselves standing closer than they should have, but neither of them seemed to care as Joel revealed the mystery object.

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

It was the most beautiful edition of ‘Jane Eyre’ she had ever laid her eyes on. Red leather hardback with golden accents all over it, including the fore-edges, it looked like something out of a royal library.

“How did you know?” her question was vague, but she knew he knew what she meant.

“Sarah told me about the books that you like, said you haven’t read this one in a long time.”

Her warm embrace came to him as a surprise, but in the state of mind he was in, not only did he accept it, but it felt good, it felt right to hug her back.

“It happens to be one of my favourites, so thank you. Really. For all of the things you’ve done for me so far.”

The two held onto each other for longer than needed until Tommy’s call brought them back to reality. The other Miller eyed the returning pair suspiciously as they took their respective places on the couch and went back to watching the movie in comfortable silence. Only he noticed the red book in her possession and fought hard to stop himself from smiling.

Later that night, after all the dishes had been washed, the leftovers put away, and the only child put to bed, Tommy reluctantly sat in the back of the cab Joel had called for him. I am not fetching my brother from a jail cell on Christmas Day, he'd told him. When he walked back into his home, he saw a sleeping figure on the couch, covered by one of the throws.

He went into his bedroom and took no more than 10 minutes to replace all of his linen with fresh ones from the closet in the hallway. He wasn’t going to let his guest sleep on a couch, especially not under a row of windows or next to the entrance door. Carefully picking her up, and she was one deep sleeper, he made his way back to his bed to lay her down on the new sheets.

My extremities get cold easily.

He changed his usual blanket for a thicker one then grabbed a pillow and went to make his bed downstairs. He picked up the scarf lying on the coffee table once more and unfolded it entirely, only then noticing the tiny initials embroidered in grey into one of the ends – J.M. Upon an even closer inspection, he realised it smelled of vanilla and flowers.

————-　❈　————-

masterlist: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

tags: @elliaze @joeldjarin

[preciadosbass]

23/8/24 [draft from friday — key + significant photos at end]

yay i can finally post this!! woke up at 6:30 and said goodmorning to boris. he was inside again, i think because of how cold it is out. i then got dressed as soon as i could so i was completely ready before the time we had to leave to go away. i put on a light gray low cut shirt, but then started freezing alive so i changed into my sleeping with sirens shirt as it was the only shirt out that i hadn’t already packed. i paired it with black ripped skinny jeans, gray + black striped arm warmers, knee high converse, danger days my chemical romance zip up, my kellin quinn necklace, a surfboard shaped wood carved necklace — and no cuffs/bracelets as this outfit is just to be worn for the car ride to the campus and then ill get changed for swimming.

after getting ready, i had a snack and painted my left hand’s nails with black nail polish. i surprisingly did them pretty neatly to how i usually do it and considering how small my nails are. within a few minutes of them being dried, half of my second smallest nail’s polish came off halfway lmao - i was going to put some more on to cover it up, but i was in a rush and i needed to do my teeth, i finished at 7. i then checked on boris again and replaced the pins on my bag. ive needed to ever since i took a ton off to put onto my jacket. all that’s left now is: incubus pin, spider-man pin, the last of us pin, t-rex pin, saliva pin, kittie pin, shark pin, beetle pin, brendon urie pin, chi cheng pin, soulfly pin, collide with the sky [pierce the veil] pin, and a silent hill pin. which sounds like a lot, but because of the way they’re set out, it dosent look like many. at least not compared to what i’m used to.

once i was done [7:18], i packed my bag. i packed: my camera, skeleton gloves, collage scraps, my collage journal, camera charger, headphone charger, extra bracelets, my spiral earrings, battery packs, my hairbrush, my wallet, hand sanitizer, meds, and my phone charger. after doing that and a few other odd bits around the house [turning off switches, making sure i’ve packed everything, etc] i went to see boris properly at 7:40. i told him about everything that’s going to be going on [who’s taking care of him, that she’s not comfortable letting him out, when we’re getting back, things like that] and said goodbye to him. i finished officially at 8:20. i’m gunna miss him so much while we’re away, but i’m excited to see him again afterwards and tell him everything.

everyone [me, my sister, my parents] got in the car at around the same. unrelated, but i also forgot to mention in yesterdays journal, archie was taken over to my sister’s friends house to be looked after. we set off at 2:30 and i looked through soul punk patrick stump videos along with a few pretty odd era panic! tiktoks. also watched my chemical romance’s song 2 [blur] cover, i don’t know why i haven’t seen this before i’m obsessed. i started journaling at 9:16 and wrote all of the paragraphs above. than at 9:30 i took a break and started listening to some music. [just surrender, fall out boy, gerard way + ray toro, frank iero, falling in reverse, blur, my chemical romance, death of a bachelor panic! at the disco, a static lullaby.]

i had a nap somewhere near 11:30 [on my seal plush] and woke up at around 12:40. i continued listening to music [CKY, HIM, frank iero, darling you should be ashamed, linkin park, lovehatehero, before today, a bullet for a pretty boy [[so underrated]], and sleeping with sirens.] i did so until 1:44 when we arrived at the resort. my dad pulled the car into the drive through place where you get your keycard/folder of leaflets and after driving round to our car park, we started unpacking into the room. on our holiday guide, it said that we could only get in our room at 3, so we were lucky to get in early. as soon as i found me & my sisters room and claimed my bed, and hung up my necklaces on the windows’ handle. along with taking a few things out of my bag + putting cuffs/band bracelets on. we did plan on going to swimming as soon as my extended family arrived, but that ended up not working out as they had to leave late.

i then took out my collage journal and started cutting up the leaflets from the folder into separate letters [etc] to make a collage tomorrow. well i say tomorrow, when i started cutting everything up, i intended for me to put everything together today. [photo at end] but i only got round to collecting the bits of paper i need. i used my stamps to print stars onto a yellow sticky note and took a couple pictures of the leaflets incase we needed anything off them after id cut them up [e.g wifi support]. me, my parents and my sister left for a show and arrived at the venue at 3:12. on the way to the venue, we met up with D [one of my cousins, his girlfriend — L, and her son, W.] we got the time wrong so we thought were really short on time, but it started 20 minutes after we found a table.

first up was a beatboxer, except he made more sound affects than sounds to make into some kind of song. he was also really funny with the way he made and timed the sound affects. it’s impossible for me to explain with unless you were there and saw him, but he was really good. next was four breakdancers, ive never really had much interest in breakdancing, but it was quite cool to watch them. one had come all the way down from japan or something.

after was one of those big hoop acts. there’s not much to say as there’s not much to explain — following on from that, a bmX rider came out and started doing all kinds of crazy tricks. i somewhat remember seeing the show itself around a year ago, but this bmX guy was different than last year. its tricky to explain a bmX show generally, but its even trickier for people to read id they don’t know what it is. so i recommend looking up bmX tricks. once he’d done his thing, a basketballer came onto stage. he was manipulating the ball and circling it around him shoulders etc. behind him was a fake button with “do not push” plastered above it. obviously, it’s a show, he ‘pressed’ the button and everytime another ball would roll out from backstage.

in the end, he was working with 5 different basketballs. it was super impressive. before the show finished, everyone came out and did all their tricks side by side. during the entire show, the beatboxer was singing and making even more sound affects. he actually had a pretty decent voice. at 4:30, after we’d all packed up our stuff and gotten ready to leave and do something else, me, my parents and my sister headed back to our room. D, L and W went off to their rooms aswell. upon getting into our chalet, i went to have a nap but ended up putting on my skates. my sister stuck on hers and we circuited a section of the resort, looking for D’s room. it didn’t take us long before we found it. but during skating around and checking door numbers, i stupidly sped round a corner on the second level of chalets and nearly fell headfirst down a huge staircase.

i assumed that it’d turn and go round the other side, so i could look at the numbers on the other rooms, as a few other of the second story ‘balconys’ or whatever you wanna call them - don’t have stairs and just follow on around the other side. but i was wrong. i slightly toppled down the first two stairs and then grabbed onto my sister’s back. luckily i didn’t make her fall over lmao // at 5:30, all of us [all of my family] went round to our restaurant for dinner. it was a little cheeky of us to even eat together as everyone in the family apart from my parents & sister have reservations for another restaurant.

after dinner, i went back to the room and stayed there for 30 minutes alone before me, my sister and my parents made our way to yet another show. we arrived at the venue and i sat near the front on the floor with my sister. my mum sat on some stairs and my dad stayed standing. it was a magic show, which is quite a complicated thing to explain, especially because i actually didn’t understand how any of the tricks were done, but i enjoyed it. also while the backstage staff were sorting out some more props the start of my generation by limp bizkit played!!

the show finished at 8, and me and my immediate family went round to the rest of the family’s chalets to check them out. i went into the more cousin based one first, the people staying in it were: RY and H, and R and E. i sat on R’s bed and just people watched [mostly] until H offered to paint my right hand’s nails dark purple as id forgotten to paint that hand in black when i was at home. then i went to see the rest of my family’s room. the family members in this chalet are my aunt and uncle, and L/W. when i came in my uncle had a jumper over the radiator and it smelt so bad and was clearly just about to light on fire. i went back into the cousin’s room/s and went to see E and see what she was doing.

she was applying gems to her eyelids with some kind of makeup glue. she asked if i wanted some and i agreed so she sat me down and gently glued the gems onto my face. [photo at end] when she was done and if verified i was happy with it, i went back to my room to quickly get something — i’m not sure what it was as im writing this on the 27th. when i got back at 9:10, we had to leave for another show. we walked across the resort and arrived at the venue to get ourselves some seats. me and E tried taking pictures of our gemmed-up eyelids together but wasn’t able to because of bad lighting. the show was advertised as a ‘rock’ festival, however the music that played was things like lizzo and ed sheeran.

i was kind of disappointed because i thought it’d be punk rock or something else i would be able to sing along to, but it was funny that we were catfished so bad. me and R just sat there making faces for eachother, indicating that ‘this isn’t rock, wtf is this’ - the performance ended at 10:20 and we went straight to another venue to join in with a ‘music dance party.’ as you can imagine, the music was dance music, but i like dance music. i somewhat danced with my grandad, E and R. R spun me around and my sister stayed swaying across the dance floor with my dad. [photo at end]

i haven’t really ever seen my dad dance before, but his favourite ‘party’ track came on and he went mad. he was doing all sorts of weird dance moves but it was cracking me up. if only whoever is reading this saw it in the moment. we parted with the rest of the family and went back to the chalet at approximately 11:30. i started to do a bit of my journal, made a picture collage of the day, and had a little nap. after my nap, i asked my parents questions about boris, said goodnight to boris via a picture of him [the picture in question is at the end] and went to sleep at 1:45.

🗝️ — boris/my cat, archie/my immediate family’s dog, questions about boris/i ask my parents questions about my cat to verify he's okay + will be okay in the morning. its a compulsive thing and i'm hopefully going to be tested for OCD in the future.

have a good day/night O_o

[fallingsolonely]

Heaven & Hell

Warning: This one-shot contains dark and sexual content.

[This is an edited version of a one-shot I wrote a few years ago, I hope you enjoy!]

Theme: Demon!Harry

Word count: 12.8k

~~~~

Earth. What a magnificent paradise. Created perfectly in my father's image.

I've been reading about it for years. I've been begging for almost a millennia to visit.

Aristol, my brother and also, in his words, my 'superior' has long refused. But I'm finally getting my chance.

I finally got my first assignment on Earth.

Aristol is furious about it, I know he's been going behind my back to Mariella and telling her that 'I'm just a child and can't handle a place like Earth, let alone go on this assignment'

He was adamant that it should be him.

1. I am not a child. I'm not much younger than Aristol as much as he likes to claim.

2. I have proven myself, I've done all my studies and I have trained for this my entire life.

As stunning as Earth is, I am well aware of the way it has been corrupted.

But where there is a storm, a rainbow is not far behind.

I've been on Earth for almost two weeks now. Europe. I've only seen maps, to be here is surreal.

To see how my father's creation has grown into what it is, it's amazing.

Humans are fascinating to me.

I'm not meant to interact much, but I can't help it.

Especially my assignment. A beautiful little boy by the name of Isaac.

A prophecy that came to the angels attention exactly 12 years ago, the day he was born.

I like to look at Mariella as a mother figure. She believes in me, pushes me to be strong.

Shes our link, almost like what humans would call a telephone.

She speaks directly with our father and 12 years ago, we received a message about a little boy with astounding power.

For the first 11 years of his life, he would be protected from the most awful parts of the world and the creatures who surround it. But, when he reaches 12, his presence would officially take hold and all creatures would become aware of him.

Which is incredibly dangerous.

That's where I come in. Angels have been preparing for this little boys 12th birthday for a long time and we have put as much protection on him as we can.

I've been assigned to watch over him.

I was strictly told not to interact with him. Just watch.

On my first day of observing him, he knew it.

He touched my hand and the first thing he asked me was if I wanted to get icecream with him.

It's almost like he knew. Treating me like he's known me his whole life.

I've never tried food of any kind before, but it's amazing.

Icecream, it's sweet and cold and comes in so many different flavors I feel dizzy when I have to choose.

For the last two weeks I've been meeting Isaac at the Icecream truck in the park near his house.

Power radiated off of this little boy and he seemed to have no clue about it. But I can see it in the way he talks, he's smart. He's intuitive and extremely wise for only being alive for a mere 12 years.

After trying icecream, I went and tried all the food I could. It's so amazing to me the things humans have created. I think my favourite is coffee.

It makes my body tingle in the strangest way.

So now, every day before I meet up with Isaac, I stop in this quiet little coffee shop.

I love watching them go about their day, humans.

I'm so grateful to the lady named Eileen who makes me a different kind of coffee every time I come in.

She's so sweet.

I don't understand Aristol's hatred towards them. The way he talks about them, like every single human is corrupt.

But it's not true. Not in the slightest.

Life, is beautiful.

"You're practically one of them" I jump slightly, looking up from the paper I am reading.

Aristol.

"I told Mariella you were to young and stupid for this assignment" He shakes his head, looking me up and down.

"You better start acting like an angel before someone snuffs you out"

Hes bitter about being pushed to the side.

"I think I blend in better like this" I smile at my brother and sip my coffee.

"I've been doing well, watching over Isaac. He's safe" He looks at me with disgust as I drink the coffee.

"We'll see"

With that, he's gone.

How Aristol doesn't see the beauty of our fathers world, is crazy to me. It's beyond incredible.

I walk along the path towards the park and to my surprise, I see Isaac.

I only see the back of his head, but he's sitting next to someone.

Hastily, I make my way over to them.

"(Y/N)!" Isaac smiles widely when I come up to them. Next to him is an unfamiliar man in a black suit.

"I made another friend" He's so happy about it. Smiling ear to ear with an icecream in his hand.

"Isaac, you should be more careful" I say it softly to him, but I can feel myself becoming more protective.

"Don't worry, pretty thing, I'm not going to hurt him"

I watch as Isaac goes to touch the man's hand, but before he can, the mystery man stands to his feet.

Already, the energy feels strange.

He stands tall, looking over me.

"Just keeping him company" The man smiles at me, scanning me with bright green eyes. In his hand, he has an icecream. As he looks over me, I watch as he licks the vanilla flavored cone.

"Enjoying this sweet little dessert" His smile turns into a smirk.

"He found me like you, (YN)" Isaac says, still smiling. Excited to be making friends.

"(Y/N), what a beautifully angelic name" He turns away from me and looks down at Isaac.

"I'll be seeing you soon, young man" He bends down to Isaac's height and smiles.

Then, he stands back up and looks at me while licking his cone. He stares me down for a moment before turning and walking away.

I can't help but feel weary as I watch him leave.

I turn to Isaac and then kneel in front of him.

I place my hand on his cheek and smile.

"I need you to be careful, Isaac" I say seriously.

"I don't want anything bad happening to you, you're special" He hugs me tightly.

"I'm sorry if I worried you, (Y/N). I'll be careful" I hug him tighter and then pull back.

"Whenever you meet someone who wants to be friends with you, I want you to touch their hand" I take his hand and hold it tightly. I know he can feel my energy through touch.

It's an ability he's unaware of even possessing.

"Okay" He agrees, holding one of my hands with both of his.

_______

I'm still worried.

The appearance of the strange man is still haunting me. Something about him isn't right. Luckily, Isaac's house is a safe haven. Enchanted by sigils meant for protection. Not even Angels can enter through it.

But to be sure, I don't stray far from his home.

The sun has set and the city is quiet.

Sleep, a source of energy humans need. I don't quite understand it, but Isaac loves to tell me about it. About the dreams he has.

Visions of someone protecting him.

Visions of shadows that he calls nightmares.

I don't like hearing about those ones, I'd do anything to make them go away.

Emotions are something all creatures feel, including angels. It's something we have to learn to control, I'm still in the learning bit.

Aristol tried to use it as an excuse for why I was unfit for this position.

At the moment, fear is swirling through me. I've never encountered the creatures that were rumored to roam the Earth.

But as I make my way around Isaac's neighbourhood, I can feel the piercing sting of someone's eyes. Like I'm being followed.

Isaac's house is on the other street, I should find a place closer to settle for the night.

Usually, I'll explore in the hours of darkness. But tonight, I'm scared.

I peak down an alley. A shortcut.

My instinct is to teleport but I don't want unwanted attention and I can already feel eyes on me.

I step into the alley. It's not super long, thankfully and in the darkness of it I feel a little safer teleporting.

I go to close my eyes, to bring myself to Isaac's street but before I get the chance, a hand clamps down over my mouth.

"Make a sound, I clip those pretty wings"

The voice whispers in my ear.

"You try anything, that precious boy is good as dead" He warned.

My first thought is to tear him away with whatever power I can, but then he mentions Isaac.

An innocent little boy.

I stop struggling against his hold on me and suddenly everything is black.

He pulled something over my head, blinding me from seeing who he is and where he takes me.

Instantly I know he's not a creature of Earth when we teleport. Not long after, I'm pushed into a chair and cuffs are tied around my wrists against the arms of the chair.

"If you're a good girl for me, perhaps I'll takes these off. Just a little precaution for my sake" He whispers, pulling away the fabric that he had put over my head.

I open my eyes and I'm met with green.

The same green eyes I had met with Isaac in the park.

Instinct takes over me and I try to get myself loose.

But my power is gone. I look down at the straps on my wrist. Each one scribed with a dark power binding sigil.

I'm trapped.

When he chuckles, I look up at him.

"No use trying with those on, love" He smiles at me.

"W-What are you doing?" I can't help it. I'm terrified.

"A little birdie told me an angel was coming to town" I look over him, he's dressed in all black, all the way down to his shoes.

"Expected more of a fight from you, angel. Never seen one give up on a fight so easily" He kneels down in front of me, our eyes level.

In a flash, I watch as each little vein in his eyes grow dark until they are black.

A demon.

Children of my fallen brother, Lucifer.

I've never met one. I never wanted to meet one. They were soulless and wicked.

"Is this your first time meeting a demon, sweetheart?" He stands up to his feet, smoothing out the suit jacket he's wearing.

The smile on his face is sickening.

"What do you want?" I want to be confident, stand my ground but my voice is quiet.

I'm so afraid.

I don't know what to do. I'm stuck.

"I'd love nothing more than to suck the sweet little soul out of your body" His smile is unwavering, his thumb running over his bottom lip as he stares at me.

"I can only imagine how it tastes-" He leans over me, biting his lip.

"So tempting, I can practically smell it" I try to push myself away from him, his hand coming up to my cheek.

His fingers are warm, burning my skin but I shiver at the feeling.

He leans down closer to me, closing his eyes and taking a breath.

"Sweet like icecream" When his eyes open again, I watch the black recede. They are green again.

"Look at you, so afraid of me. It's intoxicating" His fingers trace my jaw and then he steps away.

"So fragile" He chuckles some more.

"I'm sorry, darling. It's just amusing to me that out of all the assholes they could have sent, they sent down....you" He laughs even more.

"Sounds like a set up to me, darling. Do you really think you can protect something that everyone is looking for?" He's smiling, mocking me.

It makes me angry. I'm not weak.

I struggle against the restraints, but nothing. Not even a sliver of power.

"We know he's hidden in the area you were lurking" He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a blade. He looks it over and then back at me.

"We want the same thing, angel" His smirk makes my stomach turn.

"To see that little boy take on the world. Or more favorably, take out the world" He takes a step towards me again, twirling the blade in his hand.

"You just have to tell me his exact location" I close my eyes tightly when he begins to point the blade towards me.

"I'd hate to ruin this beautiful face" I take a deep breath when I feel the tip of the blade on my cheek.

Delicately, he moves it over my skin.

He pulls it back and I open my eyes. It's still pointed at me.

I look up at him.

"Please..." I can't do this. I can't tell him where Isaac is. I'd die to protect him.

"Please" He mocks me, rolling his eyes.

"So many things I want to do with this" He smirks and looks at the blade.

"Perhaps in another meeting, angel girl" He brings the knife down and cuts the straps binding my wrists.

"I know you aren't going to try anything, so obedient" He hums and brings his free hand up to my face. Before he can touch me, I think about breaking his hand and it does.

My power is back.

His face twists in pain for just a second before he snaps it back into place.

He glares at me, his eyes black again. He grabs me roughly, pulling me out of the chair and then grabbing my throat.

In an instant, I'm shoved against the wall.

"Try that again, I dare you" He squeezes so hard I struggle to breathe.

I want to kill him. But I can't. It will just put Isaac into more danger.

"Killing you would bring me so much joy, but no answers" He loosens his grip but his hand is still locked around my throat.

"So how about this, if you don't tell me where he is, I kill everyone on the entire block instead?" I glance around the dimly lit room. It's small. The only thing in it is the chair I was strapped to.

"Why do you want him?" You know the answer already. He's powerful.

Power is the only thing these creatures care about.

"To many questions, darling and not enough answers" I can see him getting frustrated.

"What's your name?" I reach out my hand to touch him and when I do, he drops his hand from my throat and backs away from me. He's visibly angry. The knife in his other hand is clenched in his fist.

"Tell me where he is or when I find him, I'll cut his heart out" He snapped, raising the blade at me again.

"Please, don't hurt him. I'll do anything. Just please, don't kill him" I'm desperate, I beg with the soulless man and look into his darkened eyes.

"Kill me instead, don't hurt him" His demeanor changes just slightly.

"Every angel I've met, I've never met one like you" His knife is still pointed at me, but his voice is calmer.

"So, emotional" He steps towards me again.

"My guess, you don't even know what the child is" He comes so close to me, I hold my breath.

He brings the blade up again, pushing my hair away from my face. He smiles a bit and then takes the knife away, putting it back into his jacket.

"But maybe we could think of something" He leans in even closer to me, bringing his lips to my ear.

"You'll do anything?" He pulls back to look at me, his eyes now back to green. He bites his lip.

I nod quickly, completely unaware of what's going on in his mind.

I will die to protect Isaac and if death is my fate, I will accept it.

"What is this little angel willing to give up?" He wonders, his hand coming up to my face. His finger running along my bottom lip.

I want to bite it right off, but I know it won't end well so I refrain.

"Anything, just promise me you won't hurt him"

I go to reach out to him but he grabs both my wrists and pins them against the wall.

"Sorry, angel. Demons don't make promises" He leans close to my face.

"You're just going to have to trust me, can you do that, baby?"

I know I can't. I can't trust something like him.

Hes vile and nothing good will come out of trusting him.

But what choice do I have here?

I look at him and then nod a little bit, his smirk becoming more wicked.

"What a good girl" He placed his hand on my cheek and stroked it gently.

It burns my skin like his fingers are laced with poison. But the rings on his fingers send shivers up my spine.

"Tell me, honey, just how innocent are you?" His voice is quiet and menacing.

I didn't know what he meant.

"Never got this pretty white dress dirty before?" I look at him, confused. It seemed to edge him on even more. Like he enjoyed it.

I shake my head at his question, why would I get myself all dirty?

Heaven is clean, pristine.

I miss it. Heaven is safe and pure.

"Angels, all work and no play" He leans in so close, his cheek is almost touching mine. His lips are by my ear.

"What do you do for fun, darling?" His breath is warm and I can almost feel the stubble from his face.

"I-I don't know"

Hes so close to me I feel like I'm suffocating. His scent is overwhelming.

"Would you like to know what I do?" He takes a breath, his lips touching my skin for just a split second before he steps back from me.

The blade he had put away, he takes out again.

I can't begin to imagine what a demon would do for fun.

I don't want to know.

"It depends on how I'm feeling that day, honestly"

This is it. He's going to kill me.

"Carving is fun" He brings the dull part of the blade to my cheek and out lines my jaw.

"I would have so much fun carving you-" He licks his lip.

"But that's not the fun I'm in the mood for tonight" He continues to trail the blade down my neck. I watch him.

"Call me crazy, angel. But I like you. So different from your waste of space siblings" He knicks my flesh with the blade, making me wince.

It only takes a moment before the wound heals it self.

"It just brings me so much pleasure seeing the fear in your eyes" He glances up at me.

Finally, he pulls the knife away. He puts it back into his jacket.

"Would you like to have some fun with me, baby? I'd say it's the better option"

I look away from him, still not knowing what he wants from me. What could he possibly want to do with me?

"W-What do you want to do?" I stutter on my words, avoiding his stare.

"Been with many things in my lifetime, never an angel" He smiles. But I'm still so confused.

I can't figure it out. I don't know if I want to.

"So clueless" He laughs and grabs my chin, making me look at him.

"So innocent, it makes me sick" He looks right into my eyes, holding onto my face tightly.

"Kind of hot" He glances down, looking at my lips and then back up to my eyes.

"Please, just tell me what you want" I plead with him. I'm done with his twisted games, I feel like I'm going crazy.

I have no idea what is happening.

"I want you, pretty angel. I want to taste these sweet looking lips" His thumb outlines my mouth.

"I bet they taste just as good as your soul would" He licks his lip again.

I go through the library of books in my mind, suddenly putting together what he desires.

"Copulation?" I look at him, not any less confused.

But fear rises in my stomach.

Copulation is apart of the human experience on Earth, meant for procreation. Angels can't procreate.

Even in my human form, procreating is impossible.

I've read about it, I've studied everything about the human species. I know pleasure is something humans crave and Copulation is supposed to be a joyful experience.

I know it is, it brings new life. It's amazing.

But angels are forbidden from participating in such an act. It wasn't meant for us, it's not something we crave.

I've never even thought about something like that.

For angels, it's immoral.

"So technical" He chuckles quietly.

"Have you ever felt pleasure, my darling angel?" He asks, his fingers replace the blade. They trace my skin and take the same route down along my jaw.

I can't even think about it.

There's whispers of angels who have strayed, they were never seen again.

I quickly shake my head.

"I can't. It's not meant for us" I whisper, looking at him.

"You're missing out, pretty thing" He looks at me for a moment and then backs away from me.

"Pleasure is not a sin. Why would your stupid father create something only to pick and choose who gets to enjoy themselves?" He runs his hand through his hair and smiles at me.

"W-Why do you want to do that with me?"

I look him over, he's tall. Intimidating.

"So perfect, I want ruin you" He bites his lip and stares me down.

I'd die to protect Isaac. I'd do anything.

"You won't hurt Isaac?" I ask, meeting his stare that I had tried avoiding.

He smirks.

Fear completely sinks in. If I were to be caught doing something like this, especially with a demon, I'd loose my wings.

"I just want to make you feel good, there's nothing sinful about that" His green eyes are sparkling as he looks at me.

"Why? Why haven't you just killed me?"

It's so unclear, it would be much easier for him to just get rid of me.

"Most angels I come across, usually do have that fate. Hate those arrogant fuckers" He shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

"But you, my darling, are different. Sweet little thing, innocent" He came towards me, sliding his hands up my arms.

"They all act so pure, but you should know darling, that some of your siblings are just as bad as us" He blinked, his eyes appearing black again. He brings a hand to my throat.

I take a deep breath, looking at him.

"Hm, but not you, princess" He pulls me closer, his grip getting tighter.

"You truly don't want to hurt anyone. It must be awful-" He laughs.

"Hurting people is so much fun" He squeezes hard and then let's go of me.

"So, untouched. Just the thought of putting my cock in you drives me crazy"

His words make me flinch.

Being on Earth, I've heard some of the language they use. Some words, are extremely inappropriate.

"But, I am not the type to force pleasure onto someone. I don't need to, creatures of all kinds love to throw themselves at me. I'm like, God to them" I get angry, disgusted with way he threw around my father's name.

I try to hide it, knowing he's trying to get a reaction out of me.

"What do you say, my angel? Do you want to experience pleasure you've never dreamed of?" He asks, his smile wide.

"What's your name?" I ask, my voice soft.

I vowed to die for Isaac. I will protect him no matter the cost.

"Why does it matter?" He crosses his arms.

Hes right. I don't want to hurt anyone, or anything. Not even the darkest ones. I just want to help and protect.

Most demons, were once human. If I could find that part of him, maybe this will be easier.

"Please?" I whisper, reaching up to place my hand on his cheek. His jaw clenches and he shoves my hand away from him.

"It's only fair, you know mine" I say quietly, looking up at him.

His eyes are far from innocent.

"Harry" He looks at me, his hardened state softening slightly.

"Harry..." I repeat his name under my breath. Looking down at my feet.

I wonder if that it's the name he had before he became lost.

"Isaac will be safe?" I look back up at him, his eyes now green again. I prefer the green so much more. It makes him look human.

"Perhaps" He nods just a bit.

But, he won't confirm it. He won't promise me.

Trust is the only thing I can do.

How do I trust a demon?

"You won't hurt me?" I look at my hands, they are shaking a little.

I've never even thought of doing something like this.

"So many things I want to do to you pretty girl, hurting you is not one of them. At least, for the moment. I've got other plans for you" He grabs my face and makes me look at him.

"Can't lie to you, angel. Killing you and bringing your pure little soul to hell is a dream I will be having later" He strokes my cheek.

"Maybe another day" His smirk is sinful. My breathing picks up, thinking about it. Going to hell.

"If you'd rather leave, there's the door" He backs away from me again. Giving me space.

I glance at the door. I think about teleporting away but I think of Isaac.

My mind races when I feel a pit in my stomach. Not of fear, but curiosity.

What is it about pleasure that everyone seems to desire?

"Reading people is a talent of mine, darling. I can see those pretty eyes swimming. Is this little angel feeling a sense of curiosity?"

I want to say no to him. But I can't because he's right.

My stomach turns.

I shake my head, trying to push away the feeling.

"I'm doing this to protect Isaac" I whisper, more to myself than him.

I hate it, I hate the feeling inside of me. I don't want to be curious about anything.

Never once, in my millenia have I thought about unnatural desires.

"Isn't lying a sin?" He's mocking me, I can see it.

Nothing has happened and already I feel disgraced as an angel. Thoughts I shouldn't be having are creeping into my mind and I don't know what to do.

"I-I'm not lying" I try to stand my ground, but my brain is crumbling. In his eyes, I can see the joy. I see how much he loves watching me have a moral crisis.

"Can you feel it, angel? The heat starting to burn between those cute little thighs?" He wonders, his hand sliding into my hair and pulling my face close to his.

At the mention of it, I instinctively tighten my legs together. I don't know what it is, this feeling. I don't want to feel it but I can't help it.

With each inch that he moves closer, it burns even more.

"Come on, I have a place a little more comfortable" He brushes my lips with his own, and my stomach flutters.

"Although, bending you over that chair and fucking your brains out would be very fun"

My whole body burns at his incredibly dirty words.

He smiles and grabs my hand.

In a flash, we appear in a bigger room. Against the wall is a cleanly made bed.

"Where are we?" I ask, looking around the room. The window is boarded up, preventing me from looking outside.

"Don't worry about it, darling" He says, a devilish smirk on his face.

He reaches next to my head, flicking the light on.

I try not think about the fact we could be in someone's house, what may have happened to them.

"You're so tiny" He chuckles and pushes me against the wall.

"So fucking pretty" His fingers run along my face, stopping at my lips for a brief moment before he continues down my neck.

I'm nervous, my knees feeling weak.

I'm about to throw away every rule an angel has.

But my stomach tingles when I think about his lips brushing mine.

Desire fills my consciousness and I'm scared.

I want him to do it again.

"Nervous?" He asked, pushing some of my hair behind my ear and then cupping my cheek.

He leans in, lightly pressing his lips to mine again.

The sensation of it makes me want to pull him closer.

I pull back from him, looking into his eyes.

I have no idea what I'm doing.

"I-I don't know what to do" I whisper, shyly glancing at his lips and then back at him. He smiles.

"How about-" He's so close to me, I'm getting dizzy.

"You kiss me, pretty girl?"

Our lips were almost touching. I've never been this close to someone in my entire life time.

Hesitantly, I copy him and place a hand on his cheek. Hoping he doesn't push me away again.

I look at his lips and then his eyes. I lean up towards him and close the small gap between our lips.

It lights my body up in a way I can't describe. I still haven't got a clue to what I'm doing but I try to follow his lead. I move my lips with his and I wonder if what I'm feeling is pleasure.

It doesn't feel bad. It doesn't hurt. It just makes me weak.

His hand moves slowly down my body until he reaches my thigh. He lifts it up against his hip, pulling me off the ground.

"Lift your other leg for me, baby" He mumbles and I listen to him, lifting up my other leg.

Roughly, he pushes his mouth against mine. One of his hands is holding my leg and the other slides to the back of my neck.

I find myself wrapping my hands around his neck, pulling him closer to me. The taste of him sweeter than anything I've ever tried.

He pushes his tongue into my mouth, his grip on me getting tighter with every moment.

I can't do anything about it, but an unfamiliar sound vibrates through me.

His tongue is even sweeter than his lips and I hate it. I hate how good it feels.

I can't understand why I'm feeling like this, how can something so dark make me feel so alive?

My body betrays my mind, it's craving. Desired to be touched, to soothe the ache between my legs.

My toes curl when he slides his hand under the fabric of my dress, pushing it up higher than it already is.

"I bet that cunt tastes like heaven" He pulled his lips back from me, and all I want to do is bring him back. He kisses down my neck, his prickly stubble tickling my skin.

I can't help but giggle at the feeling of it.

He pulls back to look at me.

"What are you giggling about?" He has an amused expression on his face.

My face heats up and I look away from him.

I still don't know what I'm doing.

"It tickles" I whisper and he smiles a little bit.

"Does it feel good?" He leaned back in towards my neck, kissing along my skin.

I don't want to admit it to him. I don't want him to think he's winning, but he is.

It feels amazing.

"Y-Yes" I breathe deeply, leaning my head back against the wall.

His lips continue to kiss on my skin, his other hand drawing circles on my thigh.

"Such soft skin, angel. So clean and perfect" He breathes slowly, it travels down my spine and makes me shiver.

I gasp, his teeth sinking hard into my skin. It stings but something about it makes me ache even more.

"Oh...." I grab his shoulders. My body weakening even more when he begins to suck. I bite my lip, stopping myself from letting out another noise.

It's embarrassing, the things my body is doing in response to this. I don't know how to stop it.

I don't know if I want it to stop.

"It's quite annoying that I can't leave any marks on this stunning body"

I smile a bit at that, a mini victory. It's funny that's he annoyed by how fast my body regenerates.

"You think it's funny?" I open my eyes when his teeth sink into my bottom lip.

He growls, definitely annoyed.

He leans back from me slightly and with his hand that was in my hair, he brings it to his jacket.

I think for a second that he's grabbing the blade again, but instead he pulls out a bottle.

Instantly I smell it, grimacing slightly.

Holy oil.

But there's nothing holy about it. It's a weapon used against angels. It's one of the only things that can burn our skin.

It's not permanent, but it takes much longer to heal from it.

"I wonder what would happen if I put some of this on my lips?" My eyes widen at his suggestion and he smirks.

"I like to leave my mark, darling. Have to make you remember me somehow" I watch as he opens the flask and brings it to his mouth, coating his lips and tongue. He shoves the flask back into his jacket and leans towards me.

I try to lean back from him but the wall stops me.

Just barely his lips brush over my jaw, the oil stinging my skin. I run my hands into his hair and grip it tightly, trying to pull him back.

"Harry!" I cry out when his teeth clamp down on my neck again.

This time, it burns.

The oil coating his mouth burns my flesh and I yank on his hair, trying to pull him back.

It's so unfamiliar, holy oil burns. It hurts, it's not pleasant.

But I feel pleasure and I can't comprehend how he makes it feel like this.

"Hm, that's better" He whispers in my ear, his lips coming back to mine.

Most of the oil had dissipated from his mouth, but there was a trace left.

I can feel the little needles of it against my lips.

But when he kisses me, I kiss him back eagerly. Ignoring the slight burn of it. He still tastes so good.

I'm horrified by the pleasure in my body.

I shouldn't have enjoyed it, but the feeling of his lips mixed with the burning did something to me that I can't explain.

"Would love to leave some marks all over this body, baby" He leans back into my neck, his tongue licking over the burn he created.

I fight against the sound that bubbles in my throat, still in disbelief that my body is twisting in pleasure.

My legs tighten against him, I desperately wanted to close them.

There was an ache, pulsing between my legs that I can't control. His hand that rested on my thigh made it even worse. He pushes my dress up higher and his hand comes down to my other thigh. His eyes still locked on me.

"You can't hide your desire from me, (Y/N). Those pretty little moans tell me exactly what you're feeling" He brushes my lips, his hands moving towards my inner thighs.

My breathing picks up and I look down at his hands.

My dress is pushed as far as it can go, and I know he can see my under garments.

It makes my face warm up, because he can feel the heat that's coming from them.

"Maybe I'll leave some marks on these thighs" He squeezes his hands, his lips kissing down my throat and towards my collarbone.

This time, I'm unable to keep the sound from coming out.

It's the thought of what it might feel like, his lips between my thighs coated in oil. It stings, but he makes it feel so good.

I don't know why I enjoy it. I can't even begin to think about how I'm enjoying any of this.

"You like that sound of that, baby?" He pulls back and smirks.

I shake my head, I don't want to admit it.

"Remember, angel, lying is a sin" He chuckled and moved his hands higher on the inner parts of my legs.

"You don't see me lying to you" He grabs my face with one of his hands.

"I'm going to bring you over to that bed and fuck that sweet little innocence out of you" He forces me to look at him while he says it. I bring my hands to my face, hiding from him.

I couldn't help but think about it, trying to imagine what it would possibly feel like.

"Now tell me, sweetheart, do you want me to touch you?" He rubs my thigh gently and smiles at me.

"Soothe the ache I know you're feeling" He chuckles a little bit, but I'm still covering my face. It's so warm, I feel embarrassed.

"Trying so hard to hide it from me.." He grabs my wrists and pulls them away from my face.

"Am I right, angel?"

I can't explain the emotions he's making me feel. I feel weak at how easily he sucked me into temptation but I wanted more of him.

Angels are strong, but how can I even call myself that?

I didn't put up a fight. I gave into him so quickly.

I am weak.

I pull my hands from his and bring them to his face. His skin is warm, despite his nature.

I haven't gotten the chance to really look him over. I bring my thumb to his lips, copying what he had done to me. I trace his lips, my eyes trained on them.

I can feel his stare, watching me intently.

I don't say anything to him, my voice is caught in my throat. Instead, I gently pull him to my lips. For just a moment, it's almost soft.

But quickly, he pushes his tongue into my mouth but I don't mind. It tastes sweet, like a candy.

"My little angel, you might want to ask your father to look away because I'm about to do some very bad things to you" He whispers against my lips.

He pulls us both away from the wall and grabs my hips, planting my feet back on the ground.

"So, modest" He hums and looks me up and down. I look down at what I'm wearing. A simple white dress that reached my knees. I think it's pretty. I've always loved white.

He tightens his grip on my waist and backs up until his legs reach the end of the bed. He sits on the edge of it, making us eye level to eachother.

"How about we take this off?" He slides his hands from waist up to the back of my dress.

I bite my lip, nodding at him a little.

Angels, when on earth, have a human form. It helps us blend in. It also helps us understand humans more. We don't have to worry about trivial things like sleeping, or going to the bathroom but our bodies function pretty similarly. Of course, Angels human form is much stronger than a regular human.

Harry's eyes don't leave me for a second. Hardly blinking as he pulls the zipper of my dress all the way down.

I take a deep breath. Becoming more nervous.

I've never been undressed in my life.

He slips his hand under the fabric and runs his hand up my back.

Hes so warm.

He pulls on the fabric until it falls to my ankles and suddenly I'm bare. The only thing covering me is my white under garment.

I quickly cover my chest, scared.

Hes not rough about it, but he grabs my arms and pulls them away, putting them at my sides.

"Don't be shy with me, angel. I think your body is delicious" He spreads his legs and pulls me between them. He brings his hands to the back of thighs and rubs them gently.

"So perfectly made" He bites his lip, his hands sliding higher.

I gasp when he slaps me and he laughs, his hands squeezing my behind.

"Something tells me you'd love to be bent over and whipped. I know I'd love to" He squeezes harder and I wish I could find an explanation for why it makes my body tingle so much. Not just his touch, but his words are making the heat between my legs burn.

He leans forward, his lips connecting to my skin just above my breasts. I run my hands up into his hair, lightly pulling at it.

"Been with many in my lifetime, none compare to you, angel" He squeezes the back of my thighs.

"Softest skin I've ever had the pleasure of touching" He continues with his lips on my skin, lightly biting down.

"I can only fucking imagine what it's going to feel like burying my cock in you" My legs stiffen at his words, trying to stop myself from feeling whatever it is that's raging through my stomach.

"You like it when I talk dirty to you, baby?" He pulls back and smirks at me.

"I-" I stumble on my words, trying to convince him that I don't. But my body doesn't agree. Every word, every touch makes me ache for more.

His smirk gets more wicked at my lack of words.

With a quick movement, he lifts one of my legs up onto the bed next to him, I grab his shoulders to keep myself from falling.

This position makes me feel much more vulnerable to him.

"Do you even notice how soaked you are, angel?" He laughs to himself, running his hand up my ankle until he reaches my knee.

He slows down a bit, tip toeing his fingers along my inner thigh.

He brings just the tip of his finger between my legs, pressing against where I had been dying for him touch.

"Can't wait to taste this perfect little cunt"

Just the small amount of pressure makes me buckle and I feel like I'm going to fall over. I go to pull my foot off the bed but he grabs my ankle and stops me.

"Nuh uh, honey. You're keeping your leg up for me" He warned.

"Or, I can tie you down onto the bed and have some fun with this" He pats the pocket of his jacket, referring to the oil.

My grip tightens on him.

He's hardly touched me and my body feels overwhelmed.

There's so many unfamiliar feelings swirling through me.

"Harry" I whine his name, looking at him and his sinful smirk.

"I don't play games, sweetheart. You listen to me, or you suffer the consequences" He slides his hand back up my leg, his fingers returning between my thighs.

"So sensitive, angel" He does it again, gently running his finger along me.

Instead of just once, he goes back and forth.

My leg wobbles and I try very hard to keep myself from ripping away from him.

It feels so good, I don't know how to handle it.

"Just wait until it's my tongue playing with this cute little clit" He pushes down harder and it takes all my strength to keep from falling over.

"Bet I could make you come without even taking these off"

I don't like the noises my body is making but I can't help it, I don't know how else to respond to how he's making me feel.

"Noisy little thing" He chuckles and pulls his hand away, pushing my foot off the bed and letting me plant it on the ground.

"Hm, can't get over these pretty legs" He traces his finger tips up and down the back of my thighs.

He brings his hands to my hips and hooks his fingers into my underwear.

He glances to my eyes and then begins to pull them down until they fall to my ankles.

I'm completely exposed to him now. I get nervous and close my legs tightly, trying to hide myself from him.

He stands up off the bed, suddenly much more intimidating.

"So, shy" He brings his hand to my cheek and strokes it for a moment.

"Be a good girl for me-" He taps my nose.

"Lay on the bed" He steps to the side and crosses his arms, watching me.

I listen to him and get onto the bed, laying my head on the pillows. He's still fully clothed, it feels unfair.

He stares at me for a moment before following my path and climbing onto the bed.

"Spread your legs, baby"

At the moment, they are closed tightly.

I look up at the ceiling, away from his intense eyes.

Slowly, I open them. I take a deep breath and shiver when I feel his hands on my legs.

"Such a delightful sight, angel"

I get the courage to look down at him, he's on his knees between my calfs. His hands delicately tracing my skin.

"I bet this sweet looking pussy is begging to played with" His touch is so, gentle. It's making me want more.

I can't even begin to imagine what his tongue would feel like between my legs.

I feel dirty just thinking about it.

I watch him lay down, lifting my thighs onto his shoulders.

I feel so vulnerable. I'm so nervous but I want him to touch me. My body is begging for it.

His eyes are locked on mine, his lips and teeth connecting to my thigh and making my toes curl. I don't know what to do with myself.

I shyly bring my hands down to his hair, the feeling of it soothing my nerves. I like the way his hair feels in my hands.

Without thinking, I pull on it, attempting to pull him closer between my legs.

Desperation is what I'm feeling.

He notices it right away. His eyes instantly looking up at me again.

"Is it starting to hurt, baby? Aching so bad, dripping down your thighs" I shuffle my legs, ignoring him.

I don't want him to be right. But he is, I need it.

"If you want something from me, angel-" He sinks his teeth into my flesh for a moment and then smiles.

"You've got to ask for it" He says, his face turning serious. I kick my legs in frustration, I don't want to ask him. I barely understand what's happening to me. I can't believe a demon is making me feel like this.

But in my subconscious, I'm questioning it.

Why aren't we allowed to enjoy ourselves?

Why isn't this something all creatures are allowed to experience?

He laughs at me kicking my legs, roughly gripping my thighs and stopping me from moving.

"Use your words" He kisses my thigh again, his lips going higher.

It feels like I'm on fire and the only thing that's going to cool me down is his tongue.

I don't know what to say to make him give me what I want.

"Please" I whisper, running my fingers through his hair. He smiles a bit.

"Please, what?" I get more frustrated, yanking on his hair but all it did was make him smile more. I know he's enjoying it, seeing how frustrated he can get me.

I don't want to say it out loud. I don't want to admit how badly my body is begging to be felt.

"I-I don't know what to say" I whine, trying to shuffle my legs again but he's got a tight hold on me.

"Beg me to touch you, angel, and maybe I will" He sucks lightly on my thigh.

"Or I could leave some pretty marks on your thighs" He bites down harder.

More unfamiliar sounds leave my throat, his teeth in my flesh stinging just slightly but I like it. I hate it. I hate all of the thoughts running through my head. All of them about him. His dirty words on what he wants to do with me. I don't understand it, but I want to.

"Harry, please-" I take a deep, shaky breath.

"I need you to touch me" I plead with him, hating myself for giving him the satisfaction of exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Such a good girl" He whispers, kissing even higher up my inner thigh. I watch him closely, noticing his hand letting go of my thigh and coming inbetween my legs as well.

"Is this what you want? Hm?" My whole body shudders when his fingers run along me. It's already an overwhelming sensation.

"You're so wet, baby. Smell like heaven" He breathes against my flesh and I try to move my hips closer to him. He chuckles and moves his other hand that had been holding thigh, up to my stomach and locking his arm around me tightly. Preventing me from moving.

Very much unvoluntarily, I squeal when I feel his tongue and he laughs, the sound vibrating against me.

It feels so good.

His tongue moves slowly and I try hard to kick my legs because I don't know what else to do. But his grip tightens.

"Harry" I go to pulling his hair instead, but it doesn't phase him. Every little movement of his tongue makes me moan. I can't control it. I hate it.

It truly is pleasure I've never dreamed about before.

He focuses in on the most sensitive part, my vision going blurry. I cry out, yanking on his hair with all my strength and he doesn't flinch. He continues to suck on my flesh until I'm a mess. I can't even think straight.

It's almost a relief when he pulls away for moment, but something in me wants to push him back.

"Tastes like honey, angel. Can't get enough"

This time it feels like his mouth completely engulfs me and I cry out even louder.

The pleasure, is incredible.

I've never felt this before in the millennia I've been alive.

My stomach is tightening to a point that I can't handle. It's the most intense thing I've ever felt.

I try to breath but every flick of his tongue takes my breath away.

"H-Harry" I try to pull him away, an unfamiliar knot in my stomach and all I want is relief. I can hardly breathe.

"P-Please"  I whimper, feeling like I'm going to burst. He's got such a tight hold on me, I can't move. All I can do it pull on his hair and make noise.

Which he seems to love.

His mouth and tongue make me feel like I'm floating, I can't describe it.

I don't understand it, how is he doing this?

Why does it feel so good?

"W-What is happen-" My body trembles and my thighs are shaking.

I'm struggling so much but he just holds me in place and continues to torture me with his tongue.

I close my eyes tightly, my back arching off the bed as my entire body tenses, lightly shaking as he doesn't stop his rhythmic movements.

It's so intense. The unexplainable feeling rips through me and his tongue doesn't stop. Not until my body relaxes a bit, and I'm panting. I try to catch my breath but my mind is so scattered, I can't get myself to breathe regularly.

"So fucking sweet, my little angel. Could eat this delicious cunt for days" I open my eyes, watching as he takes my thighs off his shoulders and gets onto his knees.

"Soaked the sheets, darling" He chuckles and places either hand on the top of my thighs.

I'm still trying to catch my breath, at a loss for words from the experience I just had. He rubs my thighs gently and looks down at me.

"That's what happens when you feel good, baby" He's still rubbing my thighs, helping me to calm down and relax my breathing. I attempt to close my legs a little bit, embarrassed at the mess I created on the bed.

He pins them down, pushing them further apart.

"Don't close your legs, I'm not finished" He warned, a hard grip on my thighs.

He holds down one and then brings his other hand between my legs.

I flinch when his fingers trace along my inner thigh, my body is still incredibly sensitive.

"Made you come so much, baby. Taste so good" He brushes over my nerves for just a second, making my body jolt. He smiles and brings his hand to his mouth, licking his fingers.

"I bet you're so fucking tight" His hand comes between my legs again but before he can touch me I reach down with both my hands and grab his.

He laughs at me and grabs both my wrists, he leans over me and then pins them to the bed.

"What?" He leans his face closer to me.

"Is your pussy too sensitive for me to play with?" He smirks and lifts my hands above my head, pinning them both down with just one of his.

"You think it's intense now, honey?" He uses his knee to spread my legs further apart then they already are.

"Can't wait until you feel me filling you up" He holds my hands tightly and slowly traces his fingers down my body.

His hand sneaks between my legs again and I whimper.

I groan when he pinches me lightly, a jolt of pleasure shooting into my stomach. I'm so sensitive, I hate it.

"You've got such a sensitive little clit, baby. Makes me wanna suck it until you squirt" His fingers lowers slightly and he makes little circles. I struggle in his hold, moaning more.

"Harry-" I gasp when his finger sinks into me.

"So soft" He hums. I look up at him, struggling again in his grasp. It feels really good, his finger slowly sinking into me. It's a different sensation and it amazes me. How can he make me feel like this in so many different ways?

He pulls his finger back, almost all the way before roughly pushing his finger back into me.

I groan, the pleasure coming from even deeper than when he was using his tongue.

"Does it feel good, baby?" He leans down and bites my lip.

I choke on my words when I feel him pushing a second finger into me, my toes curl in response to the pressure. My breath taken away.

"I wonder how I'm going to fit my cock in this tight little cunt, angel" I don't know what to say. His dirty words, I hated them. I hate inappropriate language of any kind but for some reason, I don't want him to stop. I like the sound of his voice.

"As much as I'd love to make you come on my fingers-" He pushes his fingers in and out of me a few more times before pulling them away.

"Wait-" I quickly bite my lip, not meaning to say anything out loud. But I liked the feeling, I didn't want him to pull away.

He smirks and brings his fingers to his lips, sucking on them.

"Don't worry, angel. Not even close to being done with you" He gets off of me and then off the bed.

I sit up and watch as he unbuttons the single button holding his suit jacket. I get up as well and crawl to the edge where he is. I get on my knees and watch him pull it off and set it on the ground. I reach out and grab his hands before he can start unbuttoning the long sleeve shirt he had on.

I pull him right up against the bed, with me on my knees we are about the same height.

Part of me just wanted to admire him. His features were perfect.

His eyes were my favorite. But only the green. I didn't like it when they'd go black.

I bring my hands to the buttons and slowly begin to undo them. His eyes are watching me closely.

I can't help but smile when I get a peak of his skin. I can already see streaks of ink.

I've seen quite a few people on Earth with beautiful designs on their skin.

I undo the last button and pull the rest of the shirt from his pants.

I pull the shirt off of him and let it fall to the floor.

Without asking, or really thinking, my hand comes to the design on his stomach. I trace it and smile even more. It resembled a butterfly and I wonder what it means to him.

Is it ties to the soul he may have had at some point?

I wish I could ask him, I could look, by holding his hand but he'd know it. He'd never let me.

I admire him for a few more moments, his body is breathtaking.

"I like these" I say softly, poking his stomach.

"Thank you, angel" It's the only genuine thing I've heard him say since we met.

The tone of his voice makes my stomach flutter.

I look down at my hands, trying to ignore his eyes when my hands reach his pants.

I bite my lip and take a deep breath.

I'm so nervous at my lack of experience. I can't imagine the amount of times he's done this.

I undo the button and bite my lip harder, unzipping them and pulling them until they also fell to the floor. He steps out of them, still allowing me to take my time. Which I'm grateful for.

I have no idea what I'm doing.

My fingers trace along the edge of the final peice of clothing on him. I also trace my fingers over the designs he has on his hips.

I think any form of art is beautiful. Some angels might disagree, but I do truly love art. And the ink humans put onto their skin, is an art form for them. I think that's amazing.

"Curious little thing" I glance up at him, my face heating up. I can't help it, I've never been this close to anyone.

"Sorry" I whisper, looking down at my hands again. I take a deep breath, copying what he had done to me earlier. I hook my fingers into his underwear and begin to pull them down. I pull them down as far as I can reach in my position. He steps out of them and I quickly look up at his face. He smirks, noticing I avoid looking between his legs.

He brings his hand up my back and slides his hand into my hair.

"Give me your hand" He said, not giving me much time to respond. Instead, he reached out with his free hand and grabbed mine.

My face goes even more red when he wraps my hand around him. It's hard. I can't bring myself to look, I'm so nervous.

"Look what you do to me, angel" He grips my hair and makes me look down. His hand is still on mine, guiding it along his length. I can feel it get even harder as I touch him.

He keeps his hand on mine for just a few more seconds, before pulling it away.

"Just like that, pretty girl" I bite my lip and continue to move my hand in the motion he showed me.

"Do you know why it's hard like that, angel?" I shake my head, unable to move my eyes now. I feel like I'm in a trance.

"All because of you" He pulls my head back so I'll look at him.

"You like stroking my cock, baby?" He smirks.

"Hm, I bet this little angel would be a perfect little cum slut. So obedient" I squeeze my hand around the tip, just a little bit of liquid oozing from it.

"How about, you do me a favour, sweetheart-" He backed up a little, roughly pulling me with him and off the bed. I fall onto the ground in front of him on my knees.

"Hm, the thought of fucking your throat just makes me even harder, angel" I look up at him, the look in his eye is wicked.

"But I want to fuck you, more than I want to do anything else. So, be a good girl for me and use this sweet looking mouth to coat my cock" He smiles down at me.

"I-I don't know what to do" I say shyly, bringing my hand to wrap around him again.

So many emotions are running through me.

"Spit on it" He instructs, pulling my face closer. I grip my hand tighter around him and push myself up higher on my knees. I glance up at him, his eyes not blinking for even a moment.

I look back down, trying to block out the fear. I don't want to mess it up. I want him to feel like I did. But I don't even know if I have the capability to do it.

I collect saliva into my mouth and then listen to his instruction, spitting on him.

"Now-" Before he tells me what to do, I use my hand to spread as much of it as I can down his length.

I've seen a world of art, with naked figures from the past. I never recognized it in a sexual way, but Harry's size is much larger than a lot of the art I've seen.

It makes my stomach flutter, wondering how this is possibly going to fit inside of me.

"You're such a good girl, angel" His tone is soft and it makes my body heat up. I like his praises. He moves his hand from my hair and brings it to my cheek, brushing it gently with his finger tips.

"Open your mouth for me" He says, his fingers touching my lips.

I listen to him and open my mouth. He places his hand on top of mine and guides himself towards my lips.

I lean forward, taking in whatever I can. It's not much, almost right away I choke.

He chuckles a little bit and I meet his gaze.

"Taking a lot in me not to shove my cock as far down your throat as I can get it" The look in his eye darkens slightly.

He pushes me, but not too much, but I choke and pull myself off of him. Saliva already dripping from my mouth.

"Hm, that's enough for now. Just wanted to get a little taste" He reaches down and grabs me, lifting me to my feet.

He pushes me onto the bed, my legs hanging over the edge.

"So many fucking things I want to do to this pretty body, angel" He places his hands on my thighs and shoves them apart before sliding them underneath my thighs and lifting them from the bed.

I wiggle around, realizing I have no control over this position. My bottom half is completely lifted from the bed.

He pulls me closer to the edge and I watch as he holds me up with one hand and the other wraps around his phallus.

My stomach tightens when his tip brushes against me.

"Tell me, angel. I want to hear you say how bad you want me to bury my cock inside of you" He looks down at me, his face is serious.

"I want it, Harry" I whisper, trying to move my hips closer. His serious expression turns into a smirk.

"Ask me to fuck you, baby" He says, watching as I struggle to try and pull him closer.

"But-" He cuts me off and digs his nails harshly into my skin.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" He asked, I look at him and nod shyly.

"Then say it" He snaps.

I've never used crude language, ever and my brain still can't understand why my body responds in pleasure to Harry's filthy words.

But I wanted him, something deep inside of me is craving to know what it's going to feel like.

"H-Harry, I-I want you to-" My face burns as I get flustered, trying to get the words out.

"I-I want you to fuck me" I'm almost in disbelief that I say it out loud. But Harry's devilish smirk grows wider.

"Such a good little angel" He hums quietly and then pushes against me.

I watch as he fixes his gaze directly into my eyes and slowly guides himself into me.

I can't describe it, how it feels. It's extremely intense.

But the way he pushes through my flesh is already making my vision go blurry.

I try to tighten my legs around him, so I can pull him closer. He stops me, roughly gripping both of my thighs.

Hes made sure he's in control.

"So soft, angel. Is this what heaven feels like?" I groan when he pulls almost out of me and then roughly drives into me while pulling me towards him at the same time.

I close my eyes, my hands holding the blanket underneath me tightly.

"Fuck" He breathes, quickly finding a pace that's making my eyes roll back. The pressure is unbelievably pleasureful. I don't know what to do with myself, I can't do anything. He has all of the power.

Every thrust of his hips gets harder and harder.

"Harry" I cry out his name, struggling in his hold. It feels so good.

Every moral I've held dear to me, is gone.

I'm finally able to catch my breath when he drops me back onto the bed, pulling out of me.

Every breath I take is shaky, my hands in fists as I try to calm myself.

"Sounds like someone enjoys getting fucked" I open my eyes and he's already starring at me.

"Hm, princess? Do like getting fucked?" I attempt to take a deep breath. I bite my lip and nod.

"Get up on the bed more" He instructs. I take another breath and then listen to him, pushing myself back onto the bed.

He followed me, grabbing me and without any effort, flips me onto my stomach.

"Now stick that pretty ass up for me, angel" Before I can respond, he grabs my hips and lifts me onto my knees. He pushes them apart, and his hands slide up my thighs until his fingers reached sensitive flesh.

My knees go weak when he rubs back and forth, I bury my face into the pillows on the bed. I grab ahold of one and hold onto it tightly.

"Harry!" I cry out his name when he pushes into me again without any warning.

"Yeah, angel? Does it feel good?" I whimper in response to him.

"Hm? I want an answer" He holds my hips tightly, thrusting into me at an overwhelming pace. I can barely breathe, let alone speak. He seemed to be getting even further inside me with this position.

I cry out when he slaps my butt, obviously getting impatient with my lack of words.

"I-It feels really good" I try to say it loud enough so he can hear me but I can't speak. My senses are completely over taken by pleasure.

"That's all I want to hear, angel. Those sweet little cries of pleasure" He slaps me again, but a bit lighter this time. It stings, but every part of it just adds to the knot forming in my stomach.

I'm a mess, if Harry wasn't holding my hips, I wouldn't be able to keep myself up.

I never understood humans who were driven by sex. Like it's a need. I never could have imagined that it would feel like this.

I feel Harry's fingers coming into my hair. He wraps it around his hand and then harshly yanks me up. I groan, feeling incredibly weak.

"Never would have thought an angel would be such a slut for cock" He wrapped his arm around my stomach and pulled my head back against his shoulder.

His thrusting decreases dramatically, but he's so deep inside of me and every little movement he makes sends pleasure through to my toes.

If he gets any deeper I feel like I might burst like a balloon.

He gently bites down against my shoulder, sucking on my skin while his hand that had been wrapped around my stomach, starts to lower.

I whine, knowing exactly what he's about to do and with both hands I grab his arm. I'm so sensitive, if he touches me, I definitely will burst from everything I'm feeling.

"Harry" I beg, trying to pull his hand away but he doesn't budge.

"You can handle it, angel" He whispers in my ear, his fingers once again touching me. But with him buried in me, the pleasure is immense.

"Harry, I-I can't" I whimper more, my nails clawing at his arm to try and pull him away.

I already feel so weak, I don't know how much more my body can take.

He ignored my weak little crys and moved his fingers in quick circles.

The knot in my stomach is so much tighter than when he used his tongue on me.

He rocked me against him and with that bit of movement, I can feel my body tensing.

"Nuh, uh, baby. You aren't coming yet" He pushed me off of him, pulling his hand away and out of me. I fall onto the bed and before I can do anything, he grabs me and turns me over.

He pushes my legs apart and gets on top of me.

He places a hand next to my head to hold himself up. Shyly, I reach my hands out to his face. I touch his cheeks for a moment before sliding my hands to his shoulders. He's so broad. I get distracted by the birds on his chest, tracing them each individually. I can't help but smile, they are very nice.

I glance up at him and bite my lip.

"Sorry, I just like these a lot" I whisper. He lifts my leg up against his hip and then leans down close to me. It's something I realize that I really like doing. I like kissing him.

I lift my other leg up against him, my hands coming back to hair and pulling him closer to me, connecting our lips.

He pulled back after a moment and with his free hand, brought it down my chest.

I jump a little when a shock of pleasure runs through me, his fingers lightly pulling on my nipple. He lowers his hand down and I watch as he wraps his hand around himself. He strokes along his length and then rubs the tip against me.

"Can't wait to fill with my cum, angel" He drives into me hard, my back arching from the bed at the feeling. My nails digging into the back of his neck.

Out of the positions he's had me in, I liked this one the best. He's warm.

He isn't gentle, but I enjoyed our closeness.

"Such a pretty little angel, now my own little slut" He whispered, leaning close to me again and brushing my lips. He doesn't kiss me, instead he moves his lips down my jaw.

I pull on his hair, moaning. I look between our bodies, watching as he pulls out just to plunge back into me.

I gently pull his hair again, guiding his lips back up to mine. I wanted to taste them again. I hold onto his cheeks, both of our moans being muffled by our kiss.

It's much messier, our tongues swirling together and making the pleasure even stronger. I hold him against my lips, refusing to let him pull them away from me.

He let's me do it for just a little longer before roughly grabbing my arms and pinning them to the bed.

He bites my lip before moving to my neck again.

He begins to quicken his pace again, sending me down a spiral of pleasure I could never imagine. Every second of it is...bliss.

I don't have to think, I just take in every feeling of it and it's incredible.

"You feel that, angel? Those little walls of your clenching against my cock?" He groans against my neck, teeth sinking into my neck.

He sucks on my skin again, before moving his lips up to my ear.

"Softest cunt I've ever fucked" He whispers before pushing himself up onto his knees and grabbing my hips.

My mind goes numb when he drives into me harder than he has all night. I'm crying in pleasure, my hands grabbing at his hands again.

It's so extreme, pleasure consuming every fibre of my being.

"Harry" I moan, the familiar feeling of my body tensing up.

"Is this sweet little angel about to come all over my cock?" His thrusts become more sloppy, but my mind is somewhere else.

I've never felt like this before.

It's pure bliss and I can't comprehend it.

It rips through me like tidal waves and I cry out his name repetitively as it washes over me.

"Fuck, fuck, angel" He swears under his breath, pushing himself as deep into me as he could possibly get and holding my hips tight. He doesn't pull out this time, he stops his thrusts suddenly.

I feel the release, my body still tightening around him.

"Sweet little pussy is taking every last drop from me, angel" He takes a breath, looking down at me before finally pulling out.

_____

My mind is still reeling. Trying to comprehend everything that just happened.

I watch as Harry buttons up his shirt slowly.

What's going to happen now?

I pull on my dress, reaching behind me and pulling up the zipper.

It doesn't feel real and suddenly, I feel so unclean.

Why did I do this? How could I do this?

How could I betray everything I know?

It scares me even more because I enjoyed it.

I glance at Harry, watching as he pulled on his jacket.

He hasn't said anything. Just looking at me every once in a while as he got dressed.

I didn't know what to make of him and I hate myself for even thinking about the chance of this happening with him again.

"What's going to happen now?" I ask softly.

"What now?" Suddenly, he's mocking me.

I watch in fear as the green in his eyes quickly disappears into black.

"Oh, darling" He shakes his head, laughing at me.

"You really are, so naive" I back away from him, fear filling my stomach. What's happening?

"You thought you could trust me? A demon?" He steps towards me, an evil smile on his face.

"Did you truly think you were anything but a toy for me to play with?" He follows my footsteps, but I'm stopped by the wall.

"God, it was so easy manipulating you" He scoffed, standing right in front of me.

I try to will myself away but nothing happens and he chuckles even more.

His eyes seem even darker than before.

I'm so confused, I tear up, looking at him. But his expression is unphased.

He pulls the blade from his jacket and points it at me.

"I'm just doing my job, sweetheart" He reaches down and roughly grabs my left hand and turns it face up.

"No, please don't" I cry, tears falling down my cheeks.

I'm trying to will up any power I can, but it's blocked and I don't know how.

"So stupid, I never needed you to get the boy" He snaps.

He brings the blade to my palm and traces it. I fight him, as hard as I can. I know what he's doing.

Only angels know of this curse.

I've only heard whispers of it, whispers of some of the punishments angels face when they stray.

It's knowledge a demon shouldn't have.

I do everything I can, but his strength is no match.

I cry out in pain as he carves into my hand and then, everything goes dark.

[grucylover]

.………………………………………

So I wrote a fanfic (my first ever one). I’m writing others a lot longer with chapters but yeah. I was inspired by Margo covered in glitter and Gru in a pink shirt from the DM4 trailor. It nice to see them spending time together as father and daughter. I don’t think this would obviously ever happen but I just wrote it, never really wrote a fanfic before so I would appreciate if you could comment and let me know what you think. Thanks. ☺️

Like Father, Like Daughter.

On the way back from a grocery run to the safe house, which the family were staying in for their own protection, Gru went to pick up Margo from her 'temporary' high school.

When she got into the car, Gru noticed something was very different about his daughter and it was pretty obvious. 'Wtf happened'. He was a little horrified to be honest.

'Margo was covered from head to toe in...glitter?'.

"Hey hunny...how was your day at sch-...woah...um, Margo?, Why 're yu covered in de glitter?. Who did dis?, Do I need to freeze ray anybody?..", Gru said slightly in near panic and was just being the overprotective father we all know and love.

"Uh no Gru it's fine, just...a school project that went wrong...it was so embarrassing though..". Margo said now pouting and crossing her arms after doing her seat belt up so they could be on their way.

Grus moment of agitation softened. Atleast he didn't need to sort anyone out, for now atleast.

Gru and Margo shared a rare car ride alone together as father and daughter. It was quite unknown for them to spend any one and one time together anymore, as the 'normal family house hold' was always busy with the younger sisters and now Gru Jr, but when they could, it really meant a lot to Margo, and to Gru in fact. Margo was after all Grus eldest child and he almost felt like she was his first born, regardless of whether he had adopted her.

With the trees rolling by a bit gloomily outside of Margo's window, she had a burning question to ask her adoptive father that had been sitting in her mind for quite a while. It had been troubling her for a long time and she knew right now would be the only chance she'd ever get to ask him, so she took up the inhibition.

"Um Gru, can I..ask you something.."?".

'Uh oh! ..'.

"Erm yeah sure sweetie, anythink..".

"Do you ever think about sending me, Edith and Agnes back to Miss Hattie...?".

Gru frowned in confusion. Where on earth had this come from?. This was very unexpected or maybe Gru should have prepared himself for these types of questions to be asked one day.

"What?! No, no, no way! What makes yu think dat? I mean... even if I wanted tu, which I don't!, EVER! Do yu honestly think I would send yu gorls back to that crazed nut job? No, not over my dead body, no, NO WAY, case closed..", Gru said firmly gripping the steering wheel whilst still concentrating on the road ahead.

Oh wow!

"Well... it's just, I was thinking aswell, you have Gru Jr now and who wants three orphan girls after you get your own kid, ya know?...".

Grus eyes widened as he shook his head in disapproval. He also found himself gripping the wheel even tighter now that he almost felt like he could rip it off in an instant. Gru then, all of a sudden, slammed the breaks to a holt on the car whilst he parked up on a side walk. It caused the vehicle to jolt a bit and for them to both jump a little in their seats.

"GRU!..". Margo shouted.

Uh oh, had she pissed Gru off? Was this the straw that finally broke the camels back and he was going to send the trio back to that evil, dreadful place? I mean, did it even still exist? It shouldn't do under child protection anyway.

Gru could feel the temperature rising within him like a pressure cooker, though the anger wasn't directed at Margo, it was more of a 'protective dad thing'. He just never wanted his daughter to ever feel that way, EVER!.

Gru switched off the engine of the car and bit his lip so he could repress the emotions he was feeling in front of his her though he hadn't done that very well.

In his mind, he went back to when he felt he became the girls actual adoptive father at 'Super Silly Fun Land'. These three orphan girls had rearranged his home and everything suddenly lost its worth to him, he loved them more than anything he owned. Even proceeding to steal the moon at the time wasn't really appealing to him anymore like he was planning to do. These girls gave Gru the redemption he desperately needed and he couldn't be more thankful for it to this day.

Gru suddenly came out of his flashback and turned to Margo. She was looking at him a bit startled from his sudden stop of the car. He took a deep sigh of breath.

'Sometimes parenting really had its surprises and this was one of them'.

"Listen Margo, when yu become a parent hunny, yu will understand...though I don't want tu think of yu ever doing dat...EVER!...Anyway, it's not how it works ok. I love yu, Edith, Agnes and Jr all da same. Whatever dhe storm, whatever dhe cost, yu are my gorls and Jr is my son and like I promised, it was the worst mistake I ever made and I will never let yu go again...now... does that answer yor question sweetie?". Gru said softly. He hoped that had somehow reassured her.

'Wow!'.

"Yeah, I mean wow... I guess so". Margo said now bewildered by his answer, but another question was still consuming her.

"But...how can you love us when we're not even like...yours?".

Gru frowned in confusion though he knew what she meant. She wasn't his biologically and Margo knew biology now?, Well, one day she would have to, but she will always be twelve years old forever in Grus mind.

At the end of the day, the bond these girls had with Gru was unbreakable and mirrored any biological parents love, even more so in fact. Margo was his and Lucy's and would always be his and Lucy's child.

"Margo, yu are mine and Lucy's daughter and anyway...it's not 'bout dat, I just love yu three gorls, that's it, it's just love. Me and Lucy and even Jr couldn't imagine dhe house without yu three and.. Jr needs his big sistas. Now, do I have to be anymore cheesy, bleh". Gru said rolling his eyes now and nearly chuckling at the fact that he had to share he's, 'feelings'.

"Ok, ok Gru, chill. That was a little cheesy... even by your standards" Margo replied smirking.

It was so nice hearing her father say all these tender things. They didn't usually share these 'deep down feelings' with one another and maybe they needed to do it more often. 'Loves yous' were always expressed and actions that contained a lot of 'family fun days' together were shared as acts of affection, but not 'deep meaningful conversations' as this.

"V'ell I'm geettin' kinda worried myself now with all dhis lovey-dovey stuff... blegh, hehe...Seriously sweetheart, I couldn't imagine life without yu gorls and oh hey...Who else is gonna draw on my walls and stick girly stickers on the kitchen cupboards now, eh?!"..

"Well, that was Edith and Anges, not me by the way". Margo said pouting and rolling her eyes once again.

'Ugh teenagers'.

"Ehehe, blaming your sisters now...I taught yu v'ell. Hehehe...I wouldn't change you three for anything. Now, let's geet back to de safe house so we can try and clean this glitter garbage off yu...ugh!..". Gru said now starting the car engine back up again.

……………………………………………….

BACK ON THE ROAD

Now back on the road, a comfortable silence filled the air between them both for a few moments.

"You know...you are pretty embarrassing though Gru, when you were playing tennis with Lucy and when you waved at the neighbours in your pink shirt...". Margo said squinting her face at the very thought of it. They were embarrassing but adorable, loving parents and she couldn't ask for anything more.

A smirk painted Grus face and a relaxed sigh left his lips.

"V'ell...I'm ur Dad hunny, it's my job to be embarrassing... ehehe".

"...Gru, can you do me one favour?..Can you not wear that pink shirt anymore?, please?..."

"Are you kidding hunny?, I was thinkin' pink is more of my color, Edith's happy about it, heheh..but ok, just for you, I will stop wearing de pink shirt..".

Luckily, Margo and Gru had a mutual understanding of their witty sense of humours and where each other was coming from. Nothing could affend Gru in the slightest from whatever one of his daughters or even Jr ever said as after all, that was the job description that came with being a parent. Most of the time, you just had to deal with whatever your child asked or said with a pinch of salt, even if they spoke the most hurtful things.

"You know, I never told you Gru but...thank you for giving me, Edith and Agnes a home". Margo said now smiling gracefully at her adoptive Dad. She really was thankful to this middle aged man that wasnt even her 'blood' Father for taking the trio in and providing her and her sisters with everything they needed. Gru and Lucy were the parents the girls always longed for.

From the corner of Grus eye, he could see Margo almost beaming at him. It made him feel a sense of pride and he almost felt like he was doing a good job when it came to parenting, almost, no parent was perfection after all.

"It will always be yor home for yu and yor sistas..always".

"I do love you though...Dad". Margo said, over pronouncing the last word. She never really called Gru, 'Dad'. The girls never really did as they just always knew him as, 'Gru' since day one and Gru would never force them to call him the tittle, it was up to them at the end of the day but secretly, when they did, it always made his heart melt like butter.

"And I love yu tu hunny, to de moon and back...".

THE END

[q-gorgeous]

Local Traditions

fanfiction

ao3

word count: 2026

Amity Park has a lot of strange local traditions that baffle outsiders.

phic phight lets gooo

“Why did we come back here?”

“Come on, Parker. We’re finally gonna catch us some ghosts in this city.”

Parker followed slowly behind him. “I thought you said this wasn’t the place we were looking for? And we weren’t able to get anywhere near any of the ghosts. What would make this time any different, Don?”

Don turned around with a big smile on his face. “Because we’re gonna start how we should’ve started in the first place. We just came in assuming we were gonna be able to find a ghost to capture without knowing what any of the patterns are. Where the ghost attacks happen, how often, which ghosts are attacking.”

He pulled a notebook out of his pocket and shook it around. “We’re going to observe first and then make a plan on how we’re going to capture our ghosts. This time I’m sure we’ll get it.”

Parker shook his head. “What are we starting with?”

Don continued walking down the sidewalk. “We’re going to observe what the residents are doing in relation to the ghosts. They’re gonna know best the patterns of the ghosts. Which ones are a danger and which ones they don’t have to worry about.”

“Okay. We’re going to use this to try to predict when a ghost attack will happen?” Parker asked.

“Yes. Exactly.” Don pointed at someone stepping outside of their house. “There’s someone now! Observe.”

This person who had just exited the house was carrying a cardboard box. They were sure they were taking the box to the recycling bin, but instead it was placed in the grass by their garage. Parker and Don waited until they made their way back instead before they headed across the street to see what was in the box. 

Parker knelt down and started rummaging through it. “We have a box of… Smaller boxes? Bubble wrap, sandwiches, and.. A single left shoe? What is this?”

“Maybe-” Don was cut off when a booming voice started talking behind them. 

“Beware!” He shouted. “I am the box ghost! And how dare you, foolish humans, plan to steal my offerings!” 

“Offerings?” Don asked. “People give offerings to the ghosts?”

“The people of this town understand how powerful and terrifying I am! With my sharp corrugated corners and the booming pops of my bubble wrap! They offer me items in exchange for me not releasing my wrath on this little mortal city!” 

Don and Parker exchanged a look together before looking back at the ghost. The ghost stared at them for a few more moments.

The ghost blinked at them.

“I am the box ghost!” 

He suddenly grabbed the box out of Parker’s hands and flew away, disappearing in between the buildings of the city. 

Don opened his notebook and wrote out the box ghost’s name. “He must be a powerful ghost if they’re offering him things in exchange for him not attacking them.”

“I think he’s annoying.” Parker said.

“Let’s go observe more things. This is a good start.” 

They were walking down another street when they caught a whiff of something. 

Parker groaned. “What is that smell? It smells like a sweaty cookie.” 

“I actually think it smells like gym socks and snickerdoodles.” Don said, scrunching up his nose. 

“I think it might be coming from that house over there.” Parker pointed at a blue house. Outside, a teenager was spraying something on the bushes outside their windows. 

They walked up to the boy. Don smiled at him. “That sure is some pesticide. We could smell it from all the way over there.”

The boy’s eyes lit up. “Glad you caught the smell. It’s my cologne, Foley. By Tucker Foley.”

Parker's eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up. “Why are you spraying cologne all over your bushes?”

“Gentlemen.” Tucker walked over to them. “Have you ever wanted a cost effective ghost repellent that also acts as the most womanizing cologne ever? The Fenton’s make all sorts of equipment and weapons, but most of them are not for public sale. And if they are, they’re very expensive! Foley by Tucker Foley is only a fraction of the cost! And it works just as well as a ghost shield!” 

He leaned forward. “If you’re interested, I can even give you a deal. Two for the price of one. Or half off a gallon bucket with a pesticide wand. What do you say?” 

“Sorry, but I don’t think pesticide cologne is really my thing.” Parker said. 

Don was busy scribbling in his notebook. “How did you discover this mix of ingredients was a ghost repellent?”

Tucker puffed out his chest with the proudest look on his face. “Lucky shot. Got it on my first try. Discovered it when the school got infected by ghost mosquitoes. It works on regular mosquitoes too, if that convinces you at all.”

“This is how they got rid of the mosquitoes?” Parker whispered to Don. “Weird.”

“Thank you for all this information. Maybe we’ll have to think on it and come back. Have a nice day!” 

“You’re not serious are you?” Parker gaped at Don. “This kid’s cologne is probably just so rank that the ghosts wanted to get as far away from it as possible. I can’t believe people are spraying it outside their houses. That’s probably what I’ve been smelling this whole time.” 

“We’re observing, Parker.” Don looked at him. “We could get the cologne and compare it to the Fenton’s anti-ecto weapons.”

Parker shook his head. “Anyways. We’ve been at this for awhile, should we head and get some grub? I’m getting hungry.” 

“Sure. I could go for some food. You up to burgers? I saw some place called the Nasty Burger and it looked kinda cool.”

“That name does not bode well for us.” Parker typed the name into his phone. “Let’s go.” 

It was busy when they got to the Nasty Burger. They walked inside and saw that the line was long. As they walked through the building towards the end of the line, they couldn’t help but notice one strange delicacy that everyone seemed to have on their tray. 

“What are they eating? Roses?” Parker leaned forward to whisper in Don’s ear. “That’s so strange. What a weird item for a fast food place to carry.”

“Sam, you have to go get my food for me. I can’t go up to the counter.”

“You just don’t want to order for yourself.”

“No, Sam. The flowers! It’s flower friday.”

“Flower friday?” Don questioned. 

“Fine. Just go save our spot. Tucker can order when he gets here.”

“Next!” The cashier called. Don walked up to the counter.

“Hi! Can we get two mighty meaty cheesy melt meals?”

She punched their order into the register. “Anything else?”

“No, thank you! That’ll be all.”

She hit another button and looked back up to them. “Your total is $14.77. Would you like a complimentary blood blossom with that?”

“A what?” Parker frowned at the name. 

She looked at them like they were dense. “A complimentary blood blossom. It’s an edible flower with anti-ghost properties. Eating them helps ward against overshadowing.”

“Uh..” Don hesitated. “Sure. We’ll try some.”

They paid her and she printed their receipt out. “Your order will be ready soon. You can wait over there to pick it up when it’s done.”

“Thank you.” 

“This town is strange.” Parker’s eyes widened as a realization came over him. “If all these people are developing their own ecto-signatures, do you think they’ll ever get to the point where they won’t be able to consume these blood blossoms anymore?” 

Don’s eyes opened wide and he turned to face Parker. “That’s such a good question. I don’t even know.”

The girl who was behind them in line laughed as she was talking to the cashier.

“Sorry, no blood blossoms for us today, Valerie. You know how Danny’s allergies are. He won’t even order his own food on flower Friday’s.” 

Valerie barked out a laugh. “I can understand that though. Tell Fenton I say hi, will you.”

“I will. Thanks.”

“Fenton? That Danny kid is the one who registered as a level eight ectoplasmic entity the last time, right?” Don asked. 

“Yeah.” Parker looked at the table the Fenton kid had sat down at. “Weird that he registers as a level eight ghost and he’s also allergic to the ghost repelling flowers.” 

“Yeah. That is weird.” Their food came out to the counter. Don grabbed the bag and started walking toward the booth the Fenton kid sat in. “Come on. Let’s see if we can overhear any information.” 

They slid into the booth next to the teenager and started digging into their food. Even with the offputting name of the restaurant, the food was pretty good. 

Sam walked over and slid into the booth behind the. “Valerie says hi.”

Danny sighed. Don peeked over the top of the booth to see him lovingly looking towards the counter. He could practically feel the eyeroll Sam was giving her friend followed by a snort. 

“You better not let her catch you looking at her like that during patrol again. The last time she almost got you pretty badly.” 

“Come onn, it wasn’t that bad.” 

“She broke your nose.”

Don shot Parker a bewildered look at that. Parker stopped mid chewing to make a face. 

“Whatever. I just have to be more careful when I’m looking at her.”

“Danny-”

“What is up my dudes.”

“That Tucker kid is friends with him too?” Parker asked. 

Don stood up and tried peering over the top of the booth again and looked eyes with the girl. She frowned at him.

“Can we help you?” 

Don jumped. “Ah, sorry. I was just, uh, you’re the Fenton kid right?”

He nodded. “You guys are the weird ghost hunters from out of town that didn’t know what they were doing, right?”

“What, we knew what we were-”

Sam barked out a laugh. “You thought I was a ghost and just grabbed me. As if that would do anything to restrain a ghost. How’d the pepper spray feel?”

Don’s eyes widened again. “Not great.”

“Good. Now how about you guys leave us alone. Unless you both want to get sprayed this time.”

“Leave me out of this. I'm sitting in my seat minding my own business and eating my food.” Parker said. Don glared at him. 

“Now, now, Sam. Maybe they were interested in buying some Foley. By Tucker Foley. I was giving them my pitch on my ghost repellent slash cologne earlier today.” 

Sam rolled her eyes. “We do not need any more people spraying that stuff all over town. It stinks.” 

“But my profits are-”

Suddenly the Fenton kid stood up and ran towards the bathroom. Then the whole restaurant went silent. 

People started standing up and packing up their food. Don and Parker looked around, unsettled.

“Hey, kids. Where’s everyone going?”

A jock was walking by their table and overheard them. “What are you new here? Everyone knows that if Fentina runs to the bathroom like that a ghost attack will follow.”

“Are you serious?” Parker asked. “Everyone just takes that as gospel?”

“Yeah.” Don looked towards the bathroom. “That’s strange.”

Sam shrugged and packed up her food. “That’s fine. You don’t have to believe us. Stay if you want.”

Don nodded. “We will.”

Tucker snickered as they walked away and soon the restaurant was empty except the two of them. 

“They can’t be serious.” Parker took another bite of his food. “Why would the Fenton kid’s potty breaks be any indication of when a ghost attack is going to happen?”

Don shrugged. “Maybe none of their traditions actually do anything. Except for the Box Ghost one. He actually took those things.”

“Maybe everyone here is just-”

“Feel my fury!” 

The voice of an older woman emanated through the room. The doors to the kitchen burst in and a meat tornado flew out. It only lasted a few seconds before it moved outside, but when everything settled and went quiet, Don and Parker looked at each other, both covered in meat.

“Don.”

“Yeah, Parker.”

“Can we go home?”

[theroyalsims]

LADY ELLA PHOTOGRAPHED WEARING §6,500 GOLD AND DIAMOND BRACELET

Just like mummy!

Lady Ella, daughter of the Earl and Countess of Harvelle and the Queen's only grandchild, was spotted wearing a luxury bangle during her latest outing with her parents.

The accessory in question is reportedly custom made for the little lady, and is crafted in yellow gold and studded with diamonds.

The posh tot wasn't the only one sporting said bracelet. In fact, her mum, Eleanore, was wearing two bangles stacked on her right wrist. Lady Ella's custom bracelet is estimated to cost at least §6,500, while Eleanore's is said to be worth about §19,000 each.

The photographs, rather expectedly, caused quite a stir online. Some royal watchers thought that splurging and showing off such luxuries seem tone-deaf and inconsiderate, seeing that a housing crisis is currently taking place in Brindleton. One commenter wrote:

"It's disgusting how tone deaf they all are. I'm not blaming the baby - I'm looking at her parents. We get that they're rich but they should've taken into consideration that there are thousands of homeless people in Brindleton now and hundreds more in fear of being evicted due to high costs of living."

Another wrote:

"Here I am debating if I should get the brand name pasta for dinner tonight or the cheaper generic one so I can save §5, while a literal baby is wearing a bangle that could pay off my utilities, rent, and food bills this month. BTW, that bracelet won't even fit that little girl in a few months time. She's gonna outgrow it really fast and then it's bye bye §6,500. She's hasn't even turned one, ffs! At least be smart about how you spend your money. You're not only showing off how rich you are. You're also showing off how dumb you are."

Some, however, are quick to defend Eleanore and Ibrahim's parenting skills:

"If I had that much money to burn, I'd buy my kids anything and everything, too. It's not Eleanore or Ibrahim's fault that other people are struggling. Poor people will still be poor whether or not Lady Ella has a §6,500 bracelet. Let this family live a little. They're not asking you to pay for it."

The Harvelles were seen leaving Liberty Park located near their townhouse here in the city. For their low-key outing, Eleanore coordinated her outfit with her daughter, wearing a floral yellow wrap dress. Ella also donned an adorable yellow bumblebee print outfit that matched her yellow hair bows and sandals.

The Harvelles are expected to return to the country after a brief stint in the city following last week's activities.

[oh-surprise-its-me]

You guys deserve to know I listened to Not Strong Enough by boygenius on repeat the entire time I wrote this. So you know. Keep that in mind.

-

He just keeps running. He can’t help it. Knows it will throw off his run at 4am with Roy.

Roy.

The point of his current problems.

Jamie’s worked a lot in therapy in the past two years. He knows he has self worth issues. Some days he wishes he can’t look into himself and see what’s wrong.

What’s broken.

What’s been tossed around for years and handled without the care it deserves.

He keeps running.

He’s always run when things get complicated. Sometimes literally sometimes not. He’s not running with a plan. He’s in Colin’s neighborhood though.

He thinks fuck it and runs to his house.

He knocks without thinking.

A light flicks on. Shit he woke them up. The door opens and Colin is standing there. “Jamie? You okay?”

Jamie opens his mouth, he thinks about lying. Michael comes up behind Colin, “hey Jamie? Wanna come in?”

God bless Colin and Michael. They’re incredible.

They are all sitting in the living room, Jamie keeps shaking his legs, “can I ask you guys something?”

Colin and Michael look at each other, “Jamie if it’s about knowing your sexuality-” Jamie laughs. “No mate I’ve known I’m bisexual for years but thanks.”

Colin nods, “okay go for it then.”

Jamie takes a deep breath, he looks at Michael first. Less scary then seeing Colin react to this. “How did you two know you were it for each other. Like that you wanted forever.”

Michael smiles at him. “It was like waves, it hit me one day and then kept hitting me stronger until I was swept up into it.”

Colin blinks away what look like tears, six months married and they are still sappy as hell.

“It wasn’t really a sudden thing. It was like I adjusted everything in my life so that he came first. There wasn’t a question about seeing him in my future plans. He was just there.”

Michael looks a little surprised. He leans over and kisses Colin.

“You wanna explain more Jamie?”

Jamie blushes. “I think I feel forever about Roy but we aren’t even together. Fuck I don’t even know. It’s like I’m an Angel and he’s a God and want to worship him.”

Michael has slowly started smiling more, “Jamie if I may?” Jamie nods, can’t get much worse. “Roy has been worshiping you and in love with you for as long as I’ve known you both.”

“What??” “Michael!”

Colin lightly taps his leg. “What he’s trying to say is that we think you’ll be okay if you tell Roy you want forever.” “I said what I said.”

Jamie nods again, if feels like he’s been nodding to a lot of things recently.

“Thanks I’m sorry I woke you guys up. I’ve uh. I’ve gotta go.”

Colin and Michael hug him before he takes back off running.

-

He makes a detour to the park. It’s empty at this time of night. He sits on a bench. Curls his legs up. He can’t do this. He can’t be this person.

He was never allowed. His dad tried to ruin everything for him.

What if Jamie ruins this.

His phone lights up. Roy’s texting him.

Where are you.

Christ what time is it how long did he run for.

Sorry took off early for run. At the park near my house?

Be there soon stay in place.

Okay.

God. Now he has to see Roy.

-

When Roy shows up he sits on the bench next to Jamie. “Where’s your head at Jamie?”

Jamie shrugs. Tucking his arms over his knees curling himself as close to a ball as he can while sitting up. “It’s here, just loud.”

Roy slides closer, he puts an arm around Jamie’s shoulder and pulls him closer. Jamie didn’t realize how cold out it was until he felt Roy’s body heat.

“Can I say something and you not be mad? Let me finish talking before you say anything?”

Roy nods, “course you can. It’s hard to be mad at you when you look this sad.”

“I’m in love with you. Want forever with you. Ran to Colin and Michael’s house to talk about how they knew. They just did. Roy I don’t know when it started but I just know I can’t stop it. I’m in love with you and it’s fine. It’s fine if you don’t feel the same. I just needed to tell you.”

Roy brushes the tears that fell off of Jamie’s face. “Good thing I feel the same then huh?”

Jamie felt the tears flowing down his face when he was talking but didn’t realize Roy saw them, let alone cared enough to remove them.

“The same? Roy you can’t. That’s crazy.”

Roy laughs. “Jamie I’m crazy, I haven’t done anything about it because I’m your coach. Didn’t want you to feel pressured. But I love you, I want forever with you too.”

Jamie risks a look at his face. He’s smiling. “Seriously?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Jamie nods, and suddenly he’s being kissed by Roy Kent. It’s maybe the softest kiss he’s ever gotten. He melts into it.

He pulls away. “You love me?” Roy touches his cheek, “I love you.”

Jamie leaps off of the bench, he starts spinning around he lets out a shout. “ROY KENT LOVES ME!”

Roy starts laughing and stands. “Jesus baby. Come on let’s go back to your place. I’ll cook.”

Jamie spins right into Roy’s arms. “You’ll cook for your.. boyfriend? Partner?”

“Future husband?”

Jamie smacks Roy. “We can’t just skip straight to that.” Roy takes his hand and holds it, there’s starting to be people out but clearly he doesn’t care. “Fuck straight, be my fiancé. We’ve known each other long enough, know everything about each other.”

“You’re going to kill me.”

Roy kisses him again. “I’m trying to worship you.”

Jamie blinks. Maybe this time he’ll be the God and not the Angel. “Let’s go home then fiancé.”

It’s Roy’s turn to whoop. He picks Jamie up with a spin and sets him back down.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[humorisstoredinthetits]

The Heathers + Veronica go on a Road Trip

Gee don't you just love when you write out a whole long ass post only for your computer to freeze and you lose all of your writing

So this will probably be worse than my original draft, but either way this is still going to be the longest thing I've ever posted to this site

But anyway, y'all really seemed to like the Comic Con one I wrote which why, that was one of the least inspired and generic ones that I did and I had no real ideas for the actual Comic Con part, but what I did have ideas for was the trip part, so I decided to expand upon it with this

Veronica, Duke and Mac are all stressed tf out

It's not that they don't love their jobs, they do, but it gets monotonous after a while

After a while of her gfs coming home downtrodden and low-energy, Chandler starts to notice

She realizes that she needs to do something about it, and eventually settles on organizing a get-away for the four of them

They talk it over and try to decide where they would want to go

They immediately rule out any high-paced vacations, like Disney World, as well as anything that would take them out of the country, as it would be too much work to get all of their passports in order and all of that

Eventually Mac brings up that her Dad has a beach house in California that they could ask to use for a week

They agree that it sounds like a good, relaxing time, and they start making preparations

The first thing they need to get settled is their pets

It starts off easy enough, Veronica's parents are more than happy to take JFK for the week

After a little bit of discussion, Martha, Betty and JD agree to take in Munchkin the Rabbit and Cornelius the Snake

Neither Martha nor Betty were too happy about the snake, but JD thinks they're neat and says that he'll keep it in his room so they don't have to be near it

The problem comes with Heather the cat

Heather is a very needy, loud, and aggressive cat, just like the person she's named after, and neither Veronica's parents nor her friends are willing to deal with it

JD especially did not want Heather in his home, the last time they had to take care of the cat she tried to eat his hamster, Slushie

So, they are forced to find a 'pet hotel' where they can drop her off

The hotel is none too happy to deal with this cat who will most definitely cause issues, so Chandler has to slide them some extra cash to get them to cooperate

After they get that settled, they start looking into flights

However, once they mention planes, Chandler goes oh hell no and adamantly refused to fly

The others try and fail to convince her to change her mind, but it is futile and an impasse is reached

Eventually Mac suggests that they drive, which none of the others are too keen on, but she adds that they could make a road trip out of it and visit different places

This grabs their attention, and they start figuring out all the different kinds of places they would want to go on their way

Veronica suggests different historical monuments like Mt. Rushmore

Mac would like to see some national parks and just be out in nature, seeing all the different kinds of wildlife

Plus after going to Disney World she really really wants to go to Disneyland, even if they only go for a day

Duke wants to see some weird roadside attractions

She saw a youtube video once about some of them and she wants to go see them in person, she just thinks they are just hilarious

Chandler doesn't really care what they do as long as her gfs are happy, she knows she is being an inconvenience with not wanting to fly, but she was terrified when they flew to Disney World and she just can't go through that again

They leave it to Veronica to plan a route, and here's what she came up with

From Sherwood they'll drive to St. Louis, visit the Gateway Arch, spend the night, then drive to

Kansas to see Wheat Jesus, before going to Nebraska and seeing the 15 ft. fork and pasta and Lighthouse in the Middle of the US, before spending the night in Omaha

From there, they'll drive to Carhenge, before heading to Mt. Rushmore and visit it and the surrounding area and stay the night

They'll then drive to the Wall Drug Store Inc., before they'll go to Yellowstone and camp there, before seeing the Car with 2 Front Ends

From there they'll drive down to the Grand Canyon and spend the night in the hotel (Chandler refused to sleep in the Desert)

'What if theres rattlesnakes? or Scorpions? or Coyotes?'

'I'll just become friends with them'

'Mac, honey, I love you, but I don't think scorpions are capable of the concept of friendship'

'You just haven't tried hard enough'

From there they'll go to the Hoover Dam, before getting to California and heading to San Diego Zoo, where they will spend the day

They'll drive overnight to Disneyland, where they will spend the day

After they'll head to the Redwood Forest National Park, before going to San Fransisco to go over the Golden Gate Bridge and visiting Alcatraz

After all of that they will finally get to the Beach House, where they decided to spend an additional week due to how long it would take to get there

(This path might be nonsensical, but its not meant to be sensical, this is a Tumblr post, not an actual trip)

With the plans changing drastically, they had to change their preparations

Veronica's parents and friends were more than ok with watching their pets for longer

JD was especially happy to hang out with Cornelius more, like he said he just thinks snakes are cool

But the pet hotel was really upset they had to watch Heather for longer

They almost canceled the reservation, but Chandler used her Heather TM powers and told the receptionist that they were going to keep the reservation and if Heather was injured, died, went missing, or anything preventable happened, she would make it her personal mission to make sure their business closed and that every single employee involved would never work at any business better than McDonalds for the rest of their sad, miserable lives

With the business thoroughly terrified, the reservation was secure

Next came the matter of work

Chandler was obviously a housewife, and so she didn't have to get off, she just asked Martha, Betty and JD to come clean, get the mail and most importantly maintain the lawn, and of course she would compensate them for their time

Veronica was self-employed, so she also didn't need to talk to her boss

'Ms. Sawyer please, I really need this break, I've been working so hard'

'No way Veronica, you are just so amazing and great, we cannot afford to lose you for a whole month'

'But I really need to go, who will make sure my gfs don't do something stupid'

'Veronica why are you talking to yourself'

Mac worked for her Dad, so she just had to ask him, which of course he agreed to

The problem came with Duke's job

Duke worked for a legal clinic that works to get abused children away from abusive households, and she was damn good at it

That was the main issue, she was just too valuable to be gone for a whole month

She begged and pleaded but they refused to give her the time off

After talking it over with her gfs, she decided to go with the tried and true Heather way and made a threat

She realized that if she was too valuable to let go on vacation, she was also too valuable to let quit, so she told her bosses that she would do whatever work she could while on the trip, but she was going on the trip, or she would quit

Thankfully for her they decided to give her the time off, but they would be sending her the paperwork while they covered her clients

That posed a problem, because they were planning on taking Duke's Jeep, and she refuses to let anyone else drive

But she also realizes that she can't drive, enjoy the trip, do her work and rest, so she had to cut one of them out

She goes 'I don't need sleep imma bad bitch' and decides to just work while the rest sleep

Upon telling her gfs this they gave her a look and told her that under no circumstances would she be allowed to forgo sleep for work and that if she tried, they would tie her to the bed

Duke said 'That's kinky' and Chandler gave her a bap on the head

**Line Break**

After much arguing she acquiesced and agreed that she would only drive for half of it and would do the work while the others drove

With all the bs settled, they moved on to preperation

They needed to get a few things, so they headed to Target

Chandler fucking loves Target, she is such a basic white bitch

They head into the store, grabbing a cart, and before anyone can say anything Mac grabs Duke and puts her in the kiddie seat

Duke starts screaming to let her out while Veronica dies laughing

After she calms down she runs to the Pokemon card section and comes back 5 minutes later with 5 different boxes and a handful of tins and blister packs

'You have a problem Veronica'

'Shut up Heather I don't have a problem you have a problem'

'We all have many problems, but yours is a whole addiction'

While her other gfs argue, Mac runs to the squishmallow section and grabs some before running back and putting them in the cart

Veronica starts arguing how Mac and her squishmallows aren't an addiction but her pokemon cards are, and Duke chimes in that she wants out of the cart

While they argue Chandler decides to just grab another cart and leave her immature girlfriends to be childish

She heads for the medical section, grabbing first aid kits, band aids, every single kind of general cream, pill or medicine that she could conceive of needing

She then heads for the camping section, getting a tent, sleeping bags, flashlights, rope, a knife, emergency flares, compasses, a dozen different other survival gadgets and about 20 cans of bug spray

It's around this time her gfs meet up with her and upon seeing all of the crap, they try to convince her that it's not needed

However, Chandler is a worrier and argues that its just in case

She does agree to put some of the bug spray back

They then head to get snacks

They get;

Chandler - Sun Chips (The Green ones), Nature Valley Bars (Also the Green Ones), Smartfood Popcorn, Red Vines, Strawberry Pop Tarts and who can forget Corn Nuts

After they finished at Target Chandler made them drive to Costco to get a industrial size box of Corn Nuts

Duke - Fruit Gushers, Barbecue Lays, Synder's Mini Pretzels, Nutter Butters, White Chocolate Kit-Kats, Fudge Stripes, Cosmic Brownies

Mac - Goldfish (The Rainbow Ones), Regular Lays, Golden Oreos, Trail Mix, Honey Buns, Cookies & Cream Pocky, Peanut M&Ms

Veronica - Salt and Vinegar Lays, Sour Patch Kids, Airheads X-treme, Sour Cream & Onion Pringles, Hot Cheetos, Scooby-Doo Gummies

She'll only eat the Scooby-Doo ones, one time they were out so Chandler had to get some other ones and Veronica refused to even touch them

She also just likes the weirdest food, it scares her gfs sometimes, like who actually likes Salt and Vinegar Chips

Once they're done with snacks they finish up by heading to the Swimming Aisle, Mac's Dad's house also has a pool

They decide to all get those obnoxiously large pool floats

Chandler gets one of those that have a cover on the top, Duke gets the Alligator, Mac googled and found a Lapras one online so she ordered it and Veronica gets the tank one that shoots water

Upon seeing that Duke reaches to the largest water gun she can from where she is still stuck in the cart, which causes Mac to also grab one

Chandler thinks its super childish but also, rather reluctantly, grabs one as well

They spend a few more days packing enough clothes for a month long vacation (They had a long talk with Chandler that they wouldn't be able to bring enough clothes to wear something different each day and when they were done she looked like she was having a Vietnam flashback)

Veronica finalizes their route while Chandler books all of the hotels they would need and gets their Disneyland tickets

** Line Break**

Finally, at long last, the day of the trip arrived

For once Veronica didn't have to get up at the crack of dawn to make her gfs drinks, they could barely sleep with how excited they were

And of course this is where they run into their first problem

They bought too much crap, so much that even Duke's jeep can't hold it all, so obviously they're gonna have to leave some stuff behind

First to go is the Industrial Sized Box of Corn Nuts

'Like seriously Heather you cannot possibly eat all of those Corn Nuts over the course of the trip'

'Watch me bitch'

They try to take the emergency stuff but Chandler puts her foot down, saying they're going to be driving through the wilderness, going to national parks, and staying at the beach house which is in a remote area, if they get stuck or something happens they probably won't have service to call for help

No one is willing to budge on anything else, so eventually they decide to just put some stuff in the backseat and whoever is there is just gonna have to deal with it

They leave and start heading to St. Louis

Duke drives, Chandler is riding shotgun, Veronica and Mac are in the back

After about an hour the novelty wears off, Chandler is being her usual backseat driver self, Mac is trying and failing to fall asleep and is getting agitated that Duke is driving so bumpy, and Veronica is playing Pokemon Violet on her Switch and getting her ass kicked by Iono over and over again so she's getting agitated

This makes Duke more and more angry until eventually she pulls into the parking lot of a Best Buy, storms into the store, and comes back with 4 pairs of noise-canceling headphones

She gives one to each of her gfs and tells them that they're gonna put these on and shut up before she turns around and that she is not dealing with this for the entire trip

That shuts them right up

No one talks until they stop at a McDonalds right outside St. Louis to get lunch, but even then their conversations are straightforward and short

They arrive at their hotel, put their stuff down (They had each packed a quick overnight bag with the things they would need like toothbrushes, change of clothes, meds, stuff like that), and Duke decides to apologize for how she acted earlier

Her gfs accepted her apology and admitted that they could have been more considerate of her

They came to the agreement that Chandler would keep her opinions about Duke's driving to herself, Mac and Veronica wouldn't outwardly express their frustration with things, and Duke would do the same with her frustrations about them

With that potentially trip-ending fight avoided, they head to the Gateway Arch

Chandler is bored bc ewwww learning and absolutely refuses to go up the elevator to the top, despite the pleading of her gfs

They go up and have a good time, looking over the city and into the Mississipi River below, while Chandler waits impatiently for them to get down so they can go to the hotel and relax

Eventually they come down and they head back, getting to bed early so they can leave early

Then they start heading to Kansas and Wheat Jesus

Chandler takes this part, Duke sits in the back with Veronica, Mac riding in the front

Nothing happens bc they're going through Kansas, the only thing there is a bunch of corn and weird ass religious signs

'Oh look guys this sign says we're going to hell for being gay'

'We know Heather, this is the 5th sign in the past half hour that's said that'

'Hell is gonna be fuckin lit, a bunch of lesbians with whips and chains and shit, its like a BDSM party that never ends'

'Shut up Veronica'

They eventually make a game out of it, which ever one of them can find the weirdest sign before they reach the hotel gets to be the one who can shower first

After sitting in the Jeep for hours upon end, they are kinda sweaty and are ready to shower, so it becomes a competition

Even Duke, who has her headphones in and is relentlessly typing away at her laptop, takes a break and participates

Obviously Chandler's ego will not let her lose, so she looks and looks until she sees one that says "You can't hold hands with God if you're 'mass debating'" (I'm not gonna use the actual word, but you get the idea of what it said)

They then reach Wheat Jesus, which is a billboard with a picture of Jesus in a field of wheat

Duke just thinks that its so stupid, even compared to the homophobic ones that they've passed

They take a quick picture and head back on the road

They head to Nebraska, which is more of the same

They eventually reach the Fork, which is another ridiculous thing that Duke finds stupidly funny

She manages to climb to the top while her gfs yell at her to get down, but she's able to get a good pic of her before a cop comes over and yells at them

After that they head to the lighthouse

Why is there a lighthouse in the middle of the Great Plains? Nobody knows

Chandler initially refuses to climb it bc 'it was so high up' but eventually she overcomes her fear

They get to the top, and are excited to see the view

They see grass, corn, wheat, and more weird ass billboards

They take a pic and agree that the Midwest fucking sucks

They head into Omaha, check into their hotel, and Chandler bolts to the shower, not forgetting that she won their little game earlier

They sleep and the next day they start towards South Dakota

Duke takes the wheel again, with Veronica finally getting to sit in the front

They head to Carhenge, which is just Stonehenge made out of cars

This time her gfs keep an eye on the gremlin so she won't climb things again

Chandler found all of these things kinda boring, but Duke is having fun exploring the attractions and buying a souvenir from each of them

Mac was also taking pictures of everything they've done, which she says she needs to make a scrapbook when they get back

Once they're done they start heading to Mt. Rushmore

Everyone is starting to get pretty bored

They've been driving for like 3 days now and they're running out of things to keep themselves entertained

And with boredom, there comes agitation, and they all too well remember what happened a few days ago when they all got pissed at each other

To lighten the mood they try to think of something fun they can do together

Duke suggests a movie but none of them can agree on which one, which only makes them angrier, same thing when she suggests putting on some music

Eventually Veronica googles 'things to do when you're bored' and comes across Prank Calls

They think its kinda childish but who are they kidding they aren't very mature people

After a bit of discussion they decide to call JD with the story being that Chandler is upset with her gfs and wants to elope with him

They know that he would never in a million years do that so that's why they agreed

They can barely contain their giggling while Chandler calls him

'Oh JD its horrible, my gfs are such immature children, I need a real man'

'Chandler'

'And look at you, such a strong man, I know you would treat me right'

'Heather are you drunk'

'Why don't we just run away, you and me, we'll move to Montana or some shit and have a big beautiful family'

' I would rather stick my dick into a slushie, impregnate it, and raise our hybrid slush-human children before I would ever consider having a family with you'

The rest can't handle it anymore and start bursting out laughing

JD realizes that this was a prank call and threatens to keep Cornelius forever

Duke shouts noooooooo and he hangs up

That keeps their spirits up until they reach Mt. Rushmore

**Line Break**

Once they get to Mt. Rushmore they check in to their room before heading to the monument itself

There's plenty to do, but first they all go to the mountain, take a few pictures, and just look at it

Before doing anything else they head to the gift shop where they pick up a few various things like magnets, a postcard, a bobblehead set for Veronica (She just thinks its funny) before Mac lays eyes on it

It's a 4 pack with a wig of each of the presidents along with a hat for Lincoln and glasses and a mustache for Roosevelt

She shows her gfs and says they have to get this and take a picture with them wearing these

For once Chandler doesn't have a stick in her ass and agrees to do it, but only if she gets to be Washington

Veronica is Lincoln bc she's the tallest

Mac is Roosevelt bc she loves animals and that leaves Duke as Jefferson, which she isn't thrilled about, saying that he sucks

She eventually sucks it up and puts on the wig

They stand in front of the mountain and get someone to take a picture of the 4 of them, standing in front of the corresponding president

Mac is really really excited about that picture, she says it's gonna look amazing in the scrapbook

They bring the wigs back to the room before heading to the Museum

Its actually a fairly interesting museum, going over the history of the architect, why the four presidents that were chosen were chosen, and even a bit about the Native American tribes that lived there

They take a Presidential Trail Loop, which isn't very long but gives them a good view of everything

Mac even gets some pictures of the wildlife which she is overjoyed about

As it gets dark they walk the The Avenue of Flags which Veronica is freaking out over

She's also a history buff so this whole experience has been just so fascinating for her

She is really into vexillology and loves identifying all the different flags and even discovering some she's never seen before

Finally, they go around the time of year they do the Evening Lighting Ceremony, where they light up the faces of the Presidents after watching a short film about the men whose faces were immortalized in stone on this mountain

Eventually they call it a night and head to the room

When they wake up and head out Veronica is actually kinda sad to leave

She is the one driving with Mac in the front and the other two in the back

But she quickly cheers up when they reach the Wall Drug Store Inc.

Its basically a Midwest Buccees

They have plenty of picture opportunities, including with a fake Mt. Rushmore that Mac puts right next to the big one in the scrapbook, and a Jurassic Park rip-off with a T-Rex Chasing them

They do a bit of shopping, Chandler even finding some boots that are up to her impossibly high standards for clothes

Then they go to the restaurant

They have Buffalo Burgers there

Both Chandler and Mac refuse to try, but Duke and Veronica say why the hell not and order them

They actually end up liking it a lot, its kinda earthy but also sweet, which is not what they were expecting from meat

They get some homemade donuts too, which are also amazing

From there they head to Yellowstone, where instead of spending the night in a hotel, they planned on camping

Before they got there, they stopped at a Walmart (there was no nearby Target, much to Chandler's horror) to get some hotdogs and buns to cook that night

Camping required moving everything out of the back to get to the tent, medical supplies, emergency supplies, and sleeping bags, moving it all back in, and bringing all of that with them to the designated camping spot

By the time they finish all of that they are sweaty and exhausted, expect for Mac who kept in good physical shape even after graduating and finishing cheerleading

They quickly get to work setting up the tent, only to realize that none of them know how to do this

They have the instructions, but something gets lost between Duke reading it out and the other 3 following what she's saying

It takes a good 2 hours before they have a tent that doesn't fall down after 5 seconds

Once they finally get that done with, they try to start a fire

Keyword Try

They try using the fire starter that Chandler bought, it doesn't work, they try using glass to redirect sunlight, doesn't work, they even try rubbing sticks together

They are all getting super frustrated and worse, they're starving

Duke gets the idea to do all three things at once to try and start the fire

Chandler says that that's stupid, if one didn't work why would all at the same time work

But while she's yapping Mac grabs the sticks and Veronica grabs the glass

Somehow it actually works and they manage to start a fire and Chandler is just done with everything and decides to go sit in the tent and cool off

Eventually she goes out to cook the hot dogs and despite the fact she's cooking them in the middle of the woods they actually turn out decent

Once they've eaten they decide to walk around and see the nature

Yellowstone is beautiful, they just walk around, not saying a word, enjoying the serenity of nature

Mac takes the occasional picture of waterfalls or the hot springs, but besides that the only sound heard is the crunch of leaves or rocks beneath their feet

Eventually they reach the hot springs

Duke leans over to feel the heat better

And she almost falls in

She is only saved at the last second by Mac grabbing her

After that they decide to go back to camp

On the way Mac keeps a look out for wildlife

She sees buffalo, coyotes, deer, mountain goats and even a marmot

It takes all of Mac's willpower not to run up and start hugging the marmot, she can't help it they're just big fat prairie dogs

When they get back to camp they see a bear foraging around in their food

Chandler screams at the sight of it which causes the bear to notice them and start growling and swiping its claws towards them

Everyone is freaking out, they're trying to figure out how to get to their bags bc maybe they could use the bug spray to spray in its eyes until it runs away or maybe use the flare or knife

Everyone is freaking out, expect for Mac

She walks straight up to the bear, slaps it, and says 'GO AWAY' in the loudest voice she can manage

The bear just looks ashamed and slowly trods away

Her gfs are just stunned and don't say a word

They get set up for the night, getting their sleeping bags out and getting marshmallows to make smores

As they are eating they start to notice something

There are a lot of bugs

Thankfully this is something they are actually prepared for as Chandler goes into the tent and hands each of her gfs a can of bug spray

Once they spray a bit and the bugs either leave or die it's actually kinda nice

As they are eating their smores Duke suggests they tell scary stories

She says that she'll start

The story she tells is so dark and gruesome that by the time she's finished both Chandler and Veronica are shaking and Mac is hugging Chandler tight and on the verge of tears

She pretty much killed the mood with that so they put out the fire and went to bed

When they get up in the morning none of them have gotten more than a hour's sleep each

They are all exhausted and their backs hurt and want nothing more than to sleep in a real bed

But they know they have to keep moving on if they wanna stay on schedule

They quickly pack up and head out of Yellowstone

Duke drives with Veronica in the front and Chandler and Mac in the back

**Line Break**

Chandler tells Veronica that if she ever suggests going camping again she will leave her stranded in the woods

Then Veronica says that if she ever suggests it to put her in a mental institution

They eventually reach the Car with Two Front Ends

Its another silly roadside attraction which is exactly like it sounds, a car with two front ends

They take some pictures before heading back to start the drive to the Grand Canyon

They are all exhausted, they've got no real sleep and have only eaten fast food

So they decide to alter their plans a little, instead of doing the Grand Canyon today they'll relax in the room before doing it tomorrow

To do this they would have to skip the Hoover Dam, which no one is sad about but Duke

'Heather why do you even want to go there, its just a dam?'

'I know why she wants to go'

'Shut up Veronica'

'She wants to make dam jokes'

'.... Like from the Percy Jackson books?'

'Yeah'

'I should've expected that'

They get to the resort at the Canyon and rush to take a shower and relax

Of course Chandler being the princess she is insists on going first

She takes so long that the other three get fed up, go in the shower and drag her out, before deciding to just say screw it and take one together so they don't have to wait any longer

When they get out they decide to just all get in bed and cuddle while watching TV

Before that they also decide to turn the AC down to the lowest setting it can go

They pass out pretty much immediately

When they get up they quickly load their things back into the car before heading to the Canyon itself

They visit the Visitor's Center, where they watch some introductory videos and look around the exhibits

They then go to the gift shop and pick up some souvenirs

Duke spots some cowboy hats and gets an idea

She runs up behind each of her gfs and places a hat in their color on each of their heads

Chandler thinks its stupid (big surprise there) but the others like it so they get the hats

She's thankful for the hats when they start going down the trail, because the sun is blazing down on them and it is really fucking hot

They're taking a trail down to the bottom where they are gonna go whitewater rafting in the Colorado River

The entire way down Chandler is petrified that she's gonna fall or they're gonna run into a rattlesnake or something

She's so happy when they reach the bottom that she could cry

After a quick tutorial the four of them get into their raft

You would think after years of being friends, then gfs, and being a part of a clique they would be able to work together on this simple task

You would be wrong

Chandler and Mac are sitting in the front and Duke and Veronica in the back

Chandler is barking orders to everyone while Duke is telling her that she's doing it wrong and so they all start yelling at each other

The instructor is paddling over to them trying to tell them what to do but none of them can hear her over their own shouting

Eventually their raft hits a rock and it flips over

Thankfully they are all strong swimmers and so are able to get to the shore quickly and without being injured

The water was actually pretty cold so none of them were too upset

They eventually made the way back up, stopping at several spots to get different views of everything

They then get back in the car, cranking up the AC before heading to San Diego

Mac drives here, Chandler in the front and the other two in the back

They're getting closer and closer to their destination, and with that they're getting more antsy

Even with the frequent stops they've been driving for days and they just want to be there already

Veronica spent like 2 hours trying to convince Chandler to try playing Pokemon with her and Mac, but she refuses bc she has a stick in her ass and hates fun

At least that's what Veronica claims is the problem

She tries appealing to her ego, saying that the whole point of the game is about becoming better than everyone else, but to no avail

The drive to San Diego feels like an eternity, but once they see the Pacific on the horizon they realize that it was all worth it

They reach the hotel and sleep, before waking up and heading to the zoo

Mac is like a very excited child, she's running around the place and just beaming

They paid for a VIP tour, so they had a personal guide taking them around the zoo

They even got to go up close and personal with some of the animals

They let them feed the giraffes, elephants, monkeys, capybaras, penguins and so much more

Most of the animals were really chill and even let Mac hug them, which just made her so happy

When the tour was over Mac said that they were coming back one day and doing this again and was crying happy tears

They stop at the gift shop and of course she picks up a bunch of plushes

They have no room in the Jeep but that hasn't stopped them from buying stuff before

From here they head to Disneyland

They stay at the Disneyland Hotel, which is so fucking cool

It's a hotel that has a bunch of Disney history, so they spend some time looking around that the exhibits

They even have this giant wall full of old Disney merch, which they take a minute to look around and find all of the cool stuff

They then head to Downtown Disney to do some shopping

They buy some of the usual stuff, pins, plushies, a few shirts and various knick knacks

Duke buys a few more lightsabers, justifying it by saying they were on sale

They have to pull Veronica out of the Lego store before she buys the UCS Millenium Falcon

They get to bed early, because in the morning they have to deal with Drill Srgt. McNamara

She wakes up before them and yells at them to hurry hurry hurry

She does not stop they are all ready and the second they are she grabs their hands and drags them to the park enterance

They have to get done with both Disneyland and California Adventure, and if they are gonna do everything they have to hurry

Since they are staying on-property, they are able to get in 30 min early, and Mac drags them to Tommorowland and is able to get everything done there

Everything goes fine until the Nemo Submarine ride, its dark and cramped and Chandler is not a fan of it

She screams like a little bitch whenever the angler fish jumpscares them

By the time the park opens fully they are in line for the Matterhorn

The Matterhorn is one of the most bumpy rides, and by the time they get off their backs are killing them

People start flooding in to the park and wait times are going up, so Mac drags them from one part of the part to another, doing whatever has the shortest line

They go from Small World to Smuggler's Run to Jungle Cruise to Rodger Rabbit to Haunted Mansion, you get the idea

By the time they stop for lunch everyone is exhausted, except for Mac, who seems annoyed they had to stop

They've gotten about 3/4ths of the park done, and they still have California Adventure to do

They try asking Mac is they can slow down but she just laughs and says that if they slow down they won't get everything done

Veronica tries telling her that they could always come back, its not like they couldn't afford it or that their work wouldn't let them but she doesn't wanna hear it

However she does agree that she'll take the next leg of driving so they can rest while they head to Redwood National Park

That sounds like a fair compromise to them so they keep heading out

They quickly wrap up Disneyland and head to California Adventure

There less rides there, so they can afford to go a little bit slower

** Line Break **

On the Little Mermaid Dark Ride, they had to cram themselves into a single clam which was super uncomfortable but it was worth it when they got to the 'Kiss the Girl' scene and they all kissed each other

They head to the Spider-man ride, which requires the rider to shoot webs by making the Spider-man web shooter gesture and moving it back and forth

Their hands were cramping so badly when they got off

Duke won and was gloating which obviously pissed off Chandler, which causes her to drag her to the Toy Story ride to get revenge

Chandler does end up winning that round, so she declares that they are even

Eventually they finish all the rides and decide to get dinner

They go to Flo's Cafe in Cars Land, where they see the best menu item ever

Its the Ka-Cheeseburger, like Lightning McQueen's catchphrase Ka-Chow

They all think that it is just the funniest thing ever, so they all get one, plus a Piston Cup cup

Once they finish their dinner (it was just alright) they head back to Disneyland to watch Fantasmic! and finish up shopping

They head to bed, pack up, and head on the road

Mac drives while the others sleep, exhausted by the previous day's events

She wakes them up once they reach the forest

The main reason they came was because they filmed Endor there in Return of the Jedi, so after walking around the trail for a few hours, admiring the giant trees, they find the exact spot they filmed some scenes in the movie and take pictures, using the lightsabers that Duke bought at Disneyland as props

After they finish up (and of course grabbing some souvenirs) they head back towards San Fransisco

They drive over the Golden Gate Bridge, which isn't anything special besides the fact that it is the Golden Gate Bridge

Compared to everything else they've seen and done over the trip a random Bridge is probably the least interesting

They then do the final thing of the road trip, which is going tour Alcatraz

They get on the ferry and start the tour

Its actually pretty interesting, even Chandler finds it entertaining

After the tour is over they have a little while to look around on their own

They go to some of the cells and start taking pictures

They pass by a random cell and Duke decides to play a prank

She nudges Chandler and says that she saw something weird in that cell over there

Chandler goes to take a look and Duke closes the door behind her

Upon realizing that she was trapped she starts screaming at Duke to let her out while Duke just laughs her ass off

'You've been a bad bad girl Heather, and now its time for your punishment'

'DUKE THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR SEXY TIMES LET ME OUT'

'Only if you say the magic wordddd'

'Please?'

'Noooo, you know what it is'

'I'm not saying that'

'Say it or you're staying in there'

'....Duke is the most goregous, most sexy, smartest, prettiest Heather there is'

'And?'

'and she is much better than me at Toy Story Mania'

After that incident they take the ferry back and start the final leg to the journey, to the beach house

They actually have to circle back towards Los Angeles as the beach house is farther south, but eventually they arrive at the house

Its rather isolated, the nearest house is a few miles away

It's on the seafront, with a spacious beach area in the front of it

It's a two-story modern-styled house, complete with a pool, game room, and movie room with a 98in TV

They quickly unloaded everything, before driving out to Target to grab food to make for the next two weeks, before

Their first day at the house they spend in bed

The past week of constant travel and doing things has exhausted them beyond belief, more than they ever thought possible

Chandler doesn't even feel like cooking, they just DoorDash Chinese food

Once they've rested and can feel their feet again, they start doing things

Their days go generally like this;

They sleep in until around 9ish

While her gfs shower, Veronica makes their coffee/tea, and after they are done Veronica takes her shower

They put on their bikinis and head down to the beach

Chandler generally doesn't go in the water, she spends most of her time catching up on some reading and sunbathing

Duke and Veronica picked up some Boogie Boards when they went to Target, and take some time trying to surf

Trying is the key word there, they aren't very good at it, but they have fun with it

Mac alternates between swimming and building sand castles

She spent a lot of the ride watching Youtube videos on people building them, and she was inspired

She also collects sea shells to put in her scrapbook

Around lunch time they'll go back inside while Chandler cooks

She's been trying some new recipes and while they aren't all hitters, she's having fun trying new things out

After that they'll take a nap before doing something in the afternoon

Sometimes they'll take a dip in the pool, which has a slide

Duke will wait at the top of the slide until someone on the float passes by, and then she'll quickly slide down and land on top of them

Other times they'll get out the water guns and start shooting each other

If they don't go to the pool they might head to the game room

They have a bunch of board games

They play some Trivial Pursuit, which Veronica wins handily, or Monopoly, which they end up having to abandon because Chandler and Duke are getting competitive again

They also have some video games

As soon as she sees Mario Party Veronica grabs it and hides it somewhere upstairs

They are not having a repeat of the Mario Party Incident

They play Jackbox Party, which causes Duke to laugh so hard that her sides start to cramp

If not games, then they go to the movie room and watch some movies

Mac's dad has both a large collection of DVDs and a bunch of streaming services, so they have essentially unlimited options

There's a pull-out couch that they use to lay down on, and they cuddle while watching things

At night they'll get some wine and go sit on the beach, just watching the sunset and enjoying each other's company , before calling it a night

They stay this way for two weeks, just relaxing without a care in the world, until the day comes that they need to pack up and go

It takes forever to get everything to fit, bc they bought just so much crap

They manage to get it all to fit, but whoever is in the backseat is gonna need to sit on someone else's lap

Its illegal but who cares

As they're finishing up Mac says that she's gonna go take a quick walk on the beach

She comes back 5 min later upset, saying that she dropped one of her earrings

Her gfs rush to come help her

Mac suggests that they dig through the sand to try and find it

While they are digging Duke finds something

Its not Mac's earring, its a small chest

Confused, she opens it, only to see 4 smaller boxes, one red, one yellow, one green and one blue

The three of them look at Mac, who is struggling not to smile, as she hands Chandler the red box, Veronica the blue box, and Duke the green box, before grabbing the yellow box herself

She tells them about how her life has been changed because of them, and how its improved in every conceivable way

She further says that without them, she doesn't know where or even who she would be, and that she wouldn't want to be anyone else than who she is right now, and that she has them to thank for it

She then says that she cannot see a life without them, and that she doesn't even want to imagine it and thats why she wants to make it permanent

** Line Break**

After she says this she gets down on her knee and tells them to open their boxes, revealing a ring in each one

Each ring is ornate, containing Heather flowers and roses with a diamond at the center, obviously in each of their respective colors

She then asks the question;

"Will you marry me?"

They're all crying, and they all pull each other into a group hug before saying that they will

So they leave the beach house, a ring on each of their fingers

They get home, and Mac gets started on the scrapbook of their trip

She works day and night in-between work and spending time with her fiancees

Eventually she gets to the last page, with a picture of the four of them on the beach, and another picture of their rings

She writes the word 'girlfriends' next to it, before grabbing a red sharpie, x-ing it out, and writing another word before circling it in green

The word is Wives

The final word count of this is somewhere around 25k words, so jesus christ I wrote a lot

If you read all of this you are awesome and I hope you enjoyed this

[lionlena]

2. Trouble with ex (JoelMillerxreader)

Ok, so here's the second one shot of: one shots week.

Summary: you have a problem with your annoing ex. You're afraid to tell Joel what you've done, but... you need support and comfort. (No pandemic)

Warnings: annoying ex boyfriend, little anxiety, established relationship, pre-outbreak Joel, loving and comforting Joel but… possessive!Joel if you squint

You heard the message beep and anxiously looked at your phone. Another disturbing message from your ex.

'I just walked in that park near your house.'

"Shit" you hissed and walked over to the window to cover it. Just in case.

An hour ago, your ex texted you that he was in your town. It was a shock to you because he lived 200 miles away, but he was a truck driver, so that explained this. However, it's not explained the fact that he was writing to you where he was, letting you know that he was close up to where you lived.

Another message: 'You know what, I don't want to go home today. I will stay here for the night.'

You sighed heavily and felt uneasiness wash over you.

'I'm serious. I'll be here all night.'

"Fuck," you growled.

You've really had enough of this. Technically, your ex was never abusive, but there were times when he was pushy. You didn't know how to take his messages. On the one hand, you wanted to ignore them, and on the other, you felt unexplained fear. You finally decided to do something. You dialed the phone number and waited until you heard a familiar voice.

"Hi, honey. What's wrong? You know I working."

You bit the inside of your cheek. You knew your boyfriend wouldn't be happy with what you'd done, but you'd rather face his anger than worry all night about your ex suddenly knocking on your door.

"Joel... Umm... I know we're not dating tonight, but... Can you come over for the night... Or can I sleep in your house?"

You didn't need to see him to know he put his free hand on his hip and made that judging face. He already knew you screwed up.

"Sure. I can be at your place around 9 pm, but what happened?"

On the one hand, you felt joy, and on the other hand, you were nervous that you had to answer him.

"Because... My ex is in town and he's been sending me weird texts. First, he texted me that he was in that park near my house, and now..." You took a deep breath. "And now he wrote that he is staying here for the night."

You heard Joel hissing on the other end. You guessed he'd want to know more, but he replied, "Okay. I'll catch up on work and be at your place after 7 pm."

You knew your problems weren't over yet, but at least your strong, loving boyfriend would be with you soon.

When you heard a knock on the door, you looked through the peephole to see who it was before opening it.

Joel was standing in front of you in a dark flannel shirt and stained jeans. You guessed he came to you straight from the construction site. Probably earlier, when he told you that he would be at 9 pm, he expected to take a shower and change. But he had to abandon those plans, and you didn't mind.

As soon as he walked further into your house, you hugged him tight and buried your face into his broad chest, inhaling deeply his masculine scent. At that moment it was the only thing that made you feel relaxed. Joel began to stroke your back and pressed his lips to your head.

"It's okay, honey. I'm here."

The two of you hugged for a while before your boyfriend pulled you over to the couch. He sat on it, spreading his legs wide and pulling you onto his lap. And you knew the moment had come...

"Can you explain all this to me? Why is your ex texting you all of a sudden and how long has he been doing it?"

You moved uneasily on his lap, but his large hands gripped your hips firmly.

"Y/N?"

You bit your lip for a moment, then moaned. "He contacted me two months ago. He just asked how I was doing?"

Joel raised his eyebrows and you knew he was waiting for the next part.

"I texted him back and... We exchanged non-binding messages... I wasn't trying to cheat on you, I swear. I wanted to treat him as just a friend. I didn't invite him here."

You sighed heavily and looked down. You couldn't look in Joel's eye. He was a wonderful man. He was older than you, but he lacked nothing. He was damn handsome and gave you divine sex. He worked hard but always made time for you. Even if it was just a short phone call. He loved you and cared for you. You felt tears gathering in your eyes.

Joel took one hand off your hip and gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. You couldn't see the anger in his eyes. Maybe just a little disapproval.

"Why did you do that? Why did you text him back the first time?"

You shrugged and let more tears roll down your cheeks.

"I guess I was bored."

Joel nodded and sighed heavily. You thought he was going to say something that would hurt you. But instead, he gently wiped away your tears with his thumb.

"Come on, don't cry, little girl. I should be angry, but I think you're remorseful enough already."

You nodded your head and he smiled. Then he suddenly pulled you tighter against his chest so that your legs were by his sides. You put your hands on his shoulders and he started kissing and biting your neck lightly. You gasped and felt your excitement rise. Suddenly Joel grabbed your ass and you squealed in surprise. His mouth was close to your ear and he purred with his deep voice, "You texted him back because you were bored. I'll make sure you don't get bored tonight, baby."

There is a possibility that I will write a sequel that will be pure smut, so be warned.

Taglist: @creedslove

[sisterspooky1013]

Gaslight, Chapter 22/48

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

Ellicott City, MD

Don’t know how you do what you do, I’m so in love with you. It just keeps getting better.

I wanna spend the rest of my life with you by my side, forever and ever.

Every little thing that you do, baby I’m amazed by you.

She snaps off the radio, then pulls Tiffany’s scarf off her head and tosses it onto the passenger seat. What is she supposed to do now? Where is she supposed to go? Her instincts tell her to run, but what about the children? She is the reason they’re involved in this in the first place, and guilt sinks heavily from her heart to her belly as she imagines what might happen to them now that the jig is up. Will they be discarded like trash? Will they be leveraged against her, used as pawns in an even more disturbing way? She wants to protect them, but to this point it’s her very proximity to them that has put them at risk. Though it goes against every maternal instinct in her body, she comes to the conclusion that the best thing she can do for them right now is to get as far away from them as possible.

Eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel, she digs around in her purse for her cell phone, finally pulling it free and flipping it open with her thumb. Her hands are still trembling, but she manages to dial. Lunch hour traffic means she hits every red light possible, and she can’t stop looking at the vehicles and sidewalks around her, waiting for another black suit to appear.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” she mumbles to herself, checking the rearview mirror obsessively.

“Dana?”

“Cal,” she says, relieved to hear his voice. “I’m on my way home, and I’m going to need to go away for a little while,” she begins, but he cuts her off.

“I’m already at home,” he says in a small, fearful voice.

“What? Why?” she asks, checking her blindspot before she switches lanes.

“I couldn’t—I just couldn’t,” he says tightly, and she realizes that he’s crying.

“Cal, I’ll be home in ten minutes, okay? Wait for me, and don’t open the door for anyone,” she says, finding confidence she didn’t realize she had within her. “Is your car in the garage?”

“Yeah,” he says in a near whisper.

“I need you to move it to the driveway so I can park in the garage, can you do that?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Okay, move the car, and then go inside and lock the door. I’ll be home soon.”

Twelve minutes later, she pulls into their driveway and jumps out to open the garage before parking Tiffany’s car inside it. When she enters the house, she finds it stonily silent and still.

“Cal?” she calls out, half expecting the smoking man from the hospital to appear instead.

“Over here.”

She follows the sound of his voice to the stairwell where he is sitting mid-flight, his head in his hands. She approaches slowly, sitting on the step just below him and laying her hand on top of his knee.

“Hey,” she says softly, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

“I’m all fucked up, mija,” he whimpers, followed by a wet sniff. “I’m just—I don’t know what to do.”

She moves one step up, wedging herself between his body and the bannister, and wraps her arm around his shoulders. He leans into her, and she rubs her palm up and down over his upper arm comfortingly.

“What happened?” she asks.

He sniffs and swipes his hand across his nose, composing himself.

“Everything is off,” he explains. “Nothing feels right. I couldn’t remember the PIN for my debit card to get gas, and then I got to work and I sat down at my desk and—it’s like it fell out of my head, Dana. Like it’s just gone.”

“What is?”

He sits up and looks at her. His eyes are bloodshot and swollen, his bottom lip quivering.

“Everything,” he says gravely. “I don’t know how to code. I can’t even fucking understand the code I wrote yesterday.”

“Oh,” she says, understanding.

“What’s happening to me?” he asks, and the pain in his voice makes her heart ache.

“I can only tell you what I was told, and I can’t be sure that what I was told is entirely accurate,” she says, her hand resting on his back.

“Just tell me, please,” he begs.

She looks away, running her tongue across her bottom lip as she decides how to explain it. She suddenly understands how challenging it was for Alex to relay the same information to her.

“I’m not your wife,” she says evenly. “You’re not my husband. Abby and Peter aren’t our children. This whole thing,” she says, gesturing to the house around them, “is a lie. A farce. Whoever did this to us…they went to very great lengths to make us believe that this life is ours.”

She pauses and turns to look at him, finding a somewhat vacant expression on his face. She can empathize, and knows that the questions are too numerous to even begin asking them. She has to keep talking.

“The chip in your neck contained memories. Memories of how we met, Abby and Peter’s births, your training in software engineering. Every single detail since 1992. And whatever they did to us, and whatever was in that medication, helped ensure that we wouldn’t remember what really happened. So that we’d believe it, the lie. And by removing your chip, I also removed those memories. That’s why you can’t remember how to code.”

“Or that pancakes are waffles,” he says absently.

“Right,” she confirms.

He stares off into the middle distance for a moment, allowing this new information to sink in.

“They’re not ours?” he asks, turning to look at her with a kind of disbelieving hurt on his face.

She shakes her head gently, her lips pressed together sympathetically.

“Not biologically, no. But they don’t know that. They still have their chips, and as long as they do, all they know is us,” she tells him, and he nods, looking away again.

“I don’t think I’m a good guy, Dana,” he says after a moment, and she narrows her eyes at him.

“What do you mean?”

He drops his head, staring at the carpeted step between his feet.

“They were cleaning the windows in the office and the smell of it—kind of like ammonia, maybe? It did something to me,” he says hesitantly.

“What did it do?”

“It made me remember something,” he says very quietly. He lifts his hands, forming loose fists. He moves them closer to his face and she realizes that he’s miming smoking from a pipe. “It wasn’t pot,” he says shamefully.

She sighs and moves into the space between his knees, kneeling on the step just below him. She grabs his hands, holding them in her own and looking him straight in the eye.

“Listen to me,” she says sternly. “I don’t know who you were or what you did before they did this to you, but it doesn’t matter. To me, you are Cal. You’re a good man, and a wonderful husband and father.” She feels her throat constrict and she swallows against it. She needs to be strong for him. “Whoever did this is looking for me, Cal. They came to the hospital, and it’s only a matter of time before they show up here. I’m not safe here.”

His eyes widen and his mouth falls open, but she stops him before his mind wanders too far.

“This isn’t about you,” she explains. “This is about me, and a man I used to work with. You and the kids were used to distract me, to make me believe the lie. I don’t have any reason to think they’ll harm you, unless they think they can use you to get to me.”

“What do we do?” he asks.

“I have to leave. I’m not going to tell you where I plan to go because you can’t be forced to provide information that you don’t have. I need you to take care of the kids, okay? You can call my mom for help if you need to. She has no idea any of this is happening, so just tell her that I had a work emergency or something. If anyone asks, say that you’re taking the medication, and do not tell anyone that I removed your chip, okay? Can you do that?”

He nods, but it’s lacking confidence.

“Will we see you again?” he asks hoarsely, and her chin puckers.

“I hope so,” she whispers, and he opens his arms, pulling her into a hug.

She hastily packs a bag with a few changes of clothes and basic toiletries, plus the Sam Cooke CD and the rest of the Numerol. She wishes she could take Cal’s chip for evidence or eventual analysis, but if Alex was right that it can be used to track her movements, it would be unsafe to do so. She remembers finding $800 cash stuffed into a cookie tin during her initial investigation of the house, and she takes that too. She loads her bag into Tiffany’s car and then turns back to Cal, who is standing in the doorway between the house and garage.

“Where did you get the car?” he asks, and she smiles thinly. “Never mind,” he says with a sigh, realizing that it’s the least of their worries.

They stand there for a moment, looking at one another. There’s so much she doesn’t know about him, so much he doesn’t know about himself, but he is still the person she trusts most in the world right now. The only person she trusts, really. She wishes that she didn’t have to do this alone. She suspects that he wishes the same.

“I’ll be in touch when I can,” she says, and he nods. “Give the kids big hugs and kisses for me, okay?”

His face crumples and he looks at the floor. She turns to get in the car, but then changes her mind and walks the handful of steps to where he is standing. She grabs his hand and he lifts his head, absolute agony in his eyes.

“You’re going to be okay,” she assures him, and his jaw jerks to the side.

“What about you?” he asks, his shoulder jumping.

“I hope to be,” she says, forgoing empty promises.

She pushes up onto her tiptoes and presses her lips to his cheek. Before her resolve can crumble any further, she climbs into the car and starts the ignition. Cal walks slowly alongside the driver’s side window as she backs out of the garage, and then follows her down the driveway. Before she turns the corner she takes one final glimpse in the rear view mirror at his tall, trim frame silhouetted against the backdrop of a suburban neighborhood.

It was a beautiful lie they created for her, and part of her is sad to leave it behind. But she chooses to look forward in hopes that she might be able to find her past, and the missing piece that she’s been mourning since the moment she woke up in the hospital.

He. Him.

Mulder.

She heads south, flipping the radio back on so she doesn’t feel so lonely. Her chest aches in the persistent, heavy way that only loss brings, and she hates just how familiar the sensation has become to her.

She’s worried about Cal, about the kids, about herself. She wonders if Mulder has any idea what’s happening, or if he is blissfully ignorant. She starts to think about the most effective way she can explain it to him, if she has the chance. And if she does explain it, and he doesn’t believe her, then what? Or, even worse, what if he does believe her but chooses his new life, his wife, over whatever they had and lost?

Scar tissue that I wish you saw,

Sarcastic mister know-it-all.

Close your eyes and I’ll kiss you, ‘cause

With the birds I’ll share

She feels slightly lightheaded suddenly, and she blinks rapidly and shakes her head back and forth to clear it away.

With the birds I’ll share this lonely view.

With the birds I’ll share this lonely view.

She flips on the turn signal and pulls off to the side of the road, her heart racing. She feels like she might be having a panic attack.

Push me up against the wall,

Young Kentucky girl in a push-up bra.

I’m fallin’ all over myself

To lick your heart and taste your health, ‘cause

It slams into her like a punch to the gut, making her head ache above her left ear. She can physically feel the synapses reaching out, connecting, pulling it up from the depths. Memories, unearthed like buried treasure.

“What are you saying?” he asks, flashing his eyes between her and the road with a haughty little smirk on his mouth.

“The song,” she answers, pointing to the radio.

“Sing it for me,” he requests, and her cheeks burn.

“I know I’m a terrible singer, Mulder, you don’t have to rub it in,” she grumbles, turning towards the window.

“I’m not making commentary on your vocal stylings, Scully, just tell me what the lyrics say,” he insists.

“With the blood that’s shed, it’s a lonely view,” she says flatly, and he chuffs a laugh. “What?”

“That is definitely not how the song goes,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s ‘with the birds I’ll share this lonely view’.”

She pauses, listening to the final chorus of the song.

“Hm,” she says.

“Hm?” he repeats. “Hm, you’re totally right, Mulder? Hm, those lyrics make a lot more sense?” he teases, reaching across the console to poke her arm with his index finger.

She turns her head sharply and gives him her very best irritated glare.

“Gloating is extremely unattractive,” she informs him, and he laughs.

“Does this mean you’re not coming over tonight?” he asks cheekily. “‘Cause I had plans for you, Scully.” He looks at her until she meets his eye, then adds, “Big plans.”

She rolls her eyes and looks out the passenger side window.

“Shut up, Mulder.”

She grips the steering wheel so tightly that her fingers go numb, her chest heaving and her heart pounding. Slowly, slowly, she returns to earth, to the shoulder of US-29-S, to the driver’s seat of Tiffany’s Escalade. As soon as the panic subsides, the tears come, running in torrents down her cheeks and keeping her stationary, unfit to operate heavy machinery in her current state. She wants more, so much more. She wants it all. She wants him.

Eventually, she feels ready to return to the road. She finds a seedy motel just outside the city that she’s confident won’t ask for ID, and lays clean-smelling towels over the top of the questionable-looking sheets before she curls up on the bed and begs for the respite of sleep. It’s early, but she’s exhausted, and feels like she needs the freshness of a new day in order to think clearly.

Tomorrow, she will return to the city she left behind against her will and try to find the torn edges of her stolen life. Tonight, she will pray that he meets her in her dreams, at least until the day she can return to his arms.

Tagging @today-in-fic