#pretty handsome owl man

[nelkcats]

And they were roommates

After years of living on his own in the Infinite Realms, something strange began to happen to the retired hero. Every time Danny closed his eyes to sleep, a life that was not his own played in his head. And he began to see memories of someone who had passed away, from his birth to his death. That would be fine if he didn't remember the dreams in such detail.

Unfortunately when the first dream kept repeating itself continuously, and Danny investigated, he discovered that it was not a normal nightmare and was the life of someone real. Someone who wanted a closure.

Every time he woke up, he found himself feeling the same as in the dream. Which led him to do a couple of things: yell at Nocturne (who strangely had nothing to do with it), annoy Clockwork (who was definitely involved), and solve crimes that had been deemed "impossible", and bring them to an appropriate end.

The police were extremely confused when a note from "Sleepy King" was next to the evidence of a cold case. The truth is that Danny wanted to sleep, and the souls were extremely insistent about their 'unfinished business' that came to haunt him in his sleep.

Every time he cracked a case he earned a few hours of uninterrupted sleep or downright disturbing memories, but that wasn't enough. Unfortunately, it seemed that solving the cases was only attracting more souls, and he was starting to regret wanting to help. He had ended his life as a hero for a reason.

Usually his notes to the police would say something along the lines of "I'm doing this for me, not for you, good night" or some similar nonsense. The halfa was tired, very very tired, dreaming with memories wasn't fun or pretty, it was exhausting, the deaths made his skin crawl and his insomnia worse. He didn't want to relive the deaths of anyone else, but he had no way to scare away the souls.

When Martha Wayne showed up in his dreams showing him about a "court of owls" Danny made up his mind. This had to stop. He had been a hero but he retired. And it wasn't that he hated the souls, he just wanted to sleep, the mental exhaustion was too much.

So he did the stupidest thing possible: he hired Constantine (pretending to be a fairly normal human client, getting his attention after offering a lot of alcohol and some useless books from the Realms as payment) to make him a dream catcher or some wizard thing. All he wanted was something to help him sleep.

Constantine couldn't do that of course. The hellbazer was disturbed by the man with more than three hundred avenging spirits swarming. That was fucked up. So he offered him the only solution he could think of: inviting him to sleep at his house. A place where spirits could not pass without permission. It wasn't a permanent fix, but it would work for a while.

John had no idea why he was doing so much for a client (inviting him to his house? bold move), but the man looked so desperate, and he was fucking cute. If he could get an adventure or two out of it he wouldn't complain.

Constantine's guest bed felt like heaven to the halfa, despite being almost destroyed. Danny repeatedly thanked, and before they both knew it: they were roomies, lived in the same place, took turns cooking or cleaning, etc. They grew comfortable with each other to the point that Danny answered Justice League Dark's calls on a few occasions.

And well, if Constantine stopped rushing to find a long-term solution that was his business, and his alone, okay? Zatanna's comment asking when he got married was fucking out of place.

[agrebel18]

here’s a quick doodle of a head-canon I LOVE about how us Bi! Hunter truthers can still win!!!! the ORIGINAL headcanon and Hunter’s dialogue comes from @welcometogrouchland​ 

[awearywritersworld]

men are so quick to blame the gods

ryomen sukuna x reader summary: your boyfriend is a heavy sleeper, leaving you to form an unlikely relationship with the curse occupying his body during the late hours of the night. w/c: 2.6k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst/fluff. aged up!yuuji. sa is mentioned but it's pretty much just sukuna saying he doesn't condone it. heavy kissing. obvi features yuuji x reader but it's not at all the focus. cursing. sukuna calls you kitten. i'd like to think he's not too ooc in this but im probably delusional. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: am i rehabbing our handsome vicious psychopath? yes<3 loosely inspired by this post (features manga spoilers) of him being v beautiful and poetic series masterlist // masterlist

humans have always irritated the king of curses— pathetic little vermin scurrying around, utterly oblivious to their own weakness.

so it came as quite a shock to him when he awoke after over a millenia, only to find himself trapped inside the body of some teenaged brat.

nearly 7 years later and he's positive there isn't a person he despises more in the universe. not even the cocky six eyes wielder can elicit sukuna's fury the way itadori yuuji so easily does.

that's why he resolved early on to kill his vessel's pretty little girlfriend, an act he hopes might satiate his spite. he's positive nothing would devastate yuuji more.

luckily for you, life has a funny way of working.

you and yuuji are standing at an intersection in the city, the pink-haired man staring at his phone as he tries to piece together the directions to a new sushi restaurant you've been wanting to try.

when the pedestrian sign on the other side of the street blinks, you step out onto the pavement without checking for oncoming traffic.

"what the-" yuuji's confused voice fills your ears just as a rough hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you backward violently.

a car barrels through the spot you'd just been standing, the driver clearly not paying attention to the traffic signal. you look back just in time to see harsh black marks fading from your boyfriend's arm, though the rest of his body has seemingly remained unblemished.

it's an odd sensation for yuuji because he's never lost control to sukuna in such a manner. he doesn't dwell on it long though, as anger blossoms in his chest.

"do not touch her," he scolds the curse occupying his body.

a mouth appears on his cheek and scoffs. "sure. i'll just let her die next time."

"it's okay, yu," you interject before he can retaliate. "thanks, sukuna. i, uh, appreciate it."

he grumbles something incomprehensible, his mouth quickly disappearing. your boyfriend looks at you bemused, but you only shrug. the fact that yuuji had lost control to sukuna doesn't make you feel nervous or threatened. you're grateful that he kept you from being run over, albeit a bit surprised.

as you continue your walk to the the sushi restaurant, you find yourself not quite able to meet yuuji's eye because... well... you haven't exactly been forthright regarding your relationship with the king of curses.

the first night it happens, you're laying in bed eagerly finishing the final volume of a manga you've been reading. yuuji is fast asleep and has been for hours, though you're used to being the night owl in the relationship.

you keep wiping at your eyes, the cheerful ending tugging at your heartstrings and tying the story together in a beautiful way.

"can you stop with your incessant sniveling? this idiot's brain is so rarely quiet and you're ruining it."

you look over to see the eye beneath your boyfriend's is open, staring at you scornfully.

"can you fuck off?" your tone is obviously meant to mock him. "i'm finishing one of my favorite mangas and you're ruining it."

"need i remind you of your place, brat?" he sneers. "it's dreadfully wretched, crying because you don't like the ending to some stupid story."

"since you're so clearly invested, i'll have you know i'm crying because i do like it."

"..and here i thought you couldn't get any more pathetic."

your eye twitches in annoyance. "just because you're mad about being stuck in 'some idiot human's body' doesn't mean you have to go around projecting your feelings of inadequacy onto other people."

you move your hand to cover the mouth on your boyfriend's cheek before sukuna can respond, hissing out in pain just a moment later.

"oh my god, you actually bit me." you inspect the teethmarks on your palm in disbelief.

"just wait until i win control of this body— the punishment you deserve for such insolence. you'd better hope you're miles away, but even then—"

"holy shit, enough already. i'll go to sleep. enjoy your peace and quiet," you growl angrily, flipping off the lamp and turning away from him. for some reason, you still find yourself mumbling, "good night."

sukuna's eye widens before promptly closing, the silence hanging in the air heavily. it's the longest conversation he's had in years and the first casual pleasantry he's heard in a millenia. he tries to feel satisfied that he got what he wanted in the end, before returning to his quiet solitude.

over the next few months, your late nights are graced somewhat frequently by the king of curses. he mainly complains— the friends you hung out with earlier were annoying, the tv's too loud, it took yuuji twenty minutes to exorcise a curse that sukuna could have dealt with in seconds.

it doesn't bother you nearly as much anymore and he's no longer able to get under your skin like he did that first night. it seems as if he's losing his touch, or perhaps he just isn't trying as hard.

it's around one in the morning, a book resting in your lap while your boyfriend snores softly beside you. sukuna's eye pops open, peering over at the text. "you're reading homer?"

your body jerks, startled by his sudden question, but you recover soon thereafter. "yeah, were you two friends or something?"

"no, you fool," he derides. "he lived far before my time."

though you don't comment on it, you find it amusing that your sarcasm had gone over his head. "oh, you're right. how silly of me to think you had friends."

"such profound witticism. i can hardly contain myself."

you sneak a glance over to find he's narrowed his eye at you and you actually giggle. "sorry."

it doesn't dawn on you how bizarre the interaction is, but sukuna abruptly realizes that something feels different. not once before tonight had he made you laugh.

he pushes the thought from his mind. "i did, however, indulge in his works during the heian period."

"really?" you perk up. it's not often you give him your full attention. "what'd you think?"

"i suppose i liked him well enough. one of my favorite lines comes from the poem you're reading."

you motion your hand for him to continue. "well don't be shy. i'm sitting here with bated breath."

he rolls his eye, but speaks nonetheless.

"men are so quick to blame the gods— they say that we devise their misery..." you realize for the first time how gruff his voice is, the deep reverberations sending a shudder down your spine. "but they themselves, in their depravity, design grief greater than the griefs that fate assigns."

his eye flickers between each of yours before you look back to your book, fiddling with the corner of the page. you're suddenly feeling rather shy. "does that mean you think humans are even crueler than you?"

he muses over your question briefly.

"if i recounted how men would flee the villages i burned, leaving their families behind in a selfish attempt to save themselves.. who would you find more revolting?

you swallow nervously. "i.. i don't know."

"what if i told you of the men who would eagerly offer their wives and daughters to me, hoping i'd spare them.. who would you deem more wicked?"

you're so busy avoiding his gaze that you don't see the way he carefully regards you. a question you're unsure you want the answer to tumbles from your lips before you can stop it. "did you accept? the.. the husbands' offers—"

"no," he responds. "i have little interest in unwilling partners."

"oh. well that's, um, good."

he hums in response, leaving you to process everything he's told you.

"you should stop," you blurt out eventually.

"stop what?"

"being nice to me." you wouldn't normally consider discussing literature then reminiscing about the egregious stories of his past life particularly kind, but then again, it is sukuna you're speaking with. "it's weird."

he rolls his eye again. "you're hardly in any position to be giving me orders, you insufferable brat."

"see? that's much better."

"why are you crying?" his tone is even, conveying neither annoyance or concern. truthfully, he has no idea what compelled him to ask in the first place.

you don't answer, hoping he'll leave you alone. you really don't have it in you tonight, even if sukuna's been much more tolerable recently. it's been weeks since you finished reading homer's epic poem.

the moon is already setting and it's just a few days before your date at the sushi restaurant.

when you sniffle again, he calls your name. you don't register that he doesn't say brat or idiot. it's the first time he's used your actual name.

"w-what do you want?"

"i seem to recall asking you a question."

you're laying on your side, facing away from yuuji and by extension, sukuna.

"i'm not crying," you declare.

sukuna briefly wonders why he's stuck dealing with you while yuuji sleeps, but his inward 'annoyance' is half hearted. "you're an awful liar."

you exhale and turn to look at him. the only light in the room is coming from the tv, but it's enough that he can see you clearly. "sometimes.. i can't help but worry about the execution."

yuuji has told you countless times that gojo has a plan, that he won't let anything happen, but you know what the higher ups are capable of.

and while it's down right shameful, you know that much, it's not only your boyfriend you worry about these days. sukuna's become so commonplace in your life, you almost look forward to talking with him at night.

"the thought of losing yuuji... of losing.. you.. it scares me," you murmur.

your words stir up feelings he's never once experienced and it's confusing to him. "i'd have figured you'd at least be pleased to be rid of me."

"well, i-i kind of thought we were friends now," you share without thinking.

"don't flatter yourself."

he regrets the words as soon as they come out of his mouth and the guilt he feels as he watches your face fall is unbecoming of a being so powerful. you apologize meekly, shifting (too late) to hide your hurt.

he can't remember a moment in which he's hated being trapped in his vessel's god forsaken body more. he wants to reach out to you, even if the idea feels entirely foreign to him.

but he can't, so he just sighs. "if you think i'm going to let a few feebleminded sorcerers execute me and the brat, you're even more foolish than i thought."

you peer at him, the smallest smile gracing your lips when you realize that's probably as close to an apology as sukuna would ever get.

"promise?"

for fuck's sake. he feels utterly pathetic. completely deplorable. laughable, even—

"yes," he states impassively. "now go to sleep."

"okay." your smile is just a little wider as your fingertips brush the spot below his eye and above his mouth. you wonder if he can even feel it. "good night, sukuna."

"...night, brat."

less than a week after sukuna saves your life at the intersection, yuuji kisses you goodbye as he heads out to a mission. he assures you he'll be early tonight, as he only has to exorcise a semi-grade one cursed spirit in roppongi.

though things don't go quite as planned because in addition to the semi-grade, he finds himself standing before two special grades. he manages to defeat one of the special grades, but the other two leave him badly hurt, his breathing labored.

he has to beg sukuna to switch out with him. the king of curses hasn't forgotten his promise to you and he's no fool— it's clear this is an ambush by the higher ups— but he'll be damned if he wasn't going to have a little fun with the brat first.

he makes quick work of the curses, each of them going rigid with fear as soon as he appears, and it soon becomes apparent that yuuji is too weakened to take back control of his body just yet.

at last, sukuna has his long yearned for freedom and a new world at his fingertips, but there's just one problem... all he wants to do is find you.

when the lock to your apartment clicks, your eyes shift to the door, an excited grin on your face. you can't hide your shock when it isn't your boyfriend that steps inside.

you don't say anything at first, simply following his frame across the room as he approaches you. he leans against the wall a few feet away from where you're sitting on the couch, folding his arms across his chest.

"seems your concerns about the execution weren't unwarranted."

"w-what?!" you exclaim, rising to your feet and taking a step toward him. "what happened?"

he relays the story to you, emphasizing how 'unimpressive' yuuji's power was and how 'terribly simple' it was for him to finish the job his vessel couldn't.

you narrow your eyes at him, only half joking when you ask, "what are you doing here, then? shouldn't you be off pillaging tokyo or something?"

he chuckles. "such a dark mind you have. it wounds me to hear you assume the worst of me."

you bite your lip to hide your smile. "just figured it'd save time."

he closes the space between you and though you can feel the heat radiating from his body, you don't shy away from him. instead, your eyes trail over the dark lines adorning his face and chest.

he reaches up and your breath catches in your throat when the back of his fingers ghost over your neck. his nails graze your skin and a sly smirk forms on his face. "aren't you frightened? it'd be all too easy to kill a little thing like you."

"but you won't."

he can't tell if your assuredness pisses him off, but it certainly makes his heart rate pick up. his hand now occupies the space where your neck meets your shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle. "what has you so convinced?"

"well you saved me, didn't you? and.. and you kept your promise."

he hums in response and your hand seems to act of its own accord when it reaches up to rest atop his. any lingering sense of amusement is gone in an instant, the air now fraught with tension.

"so why are you here, sukuna?" you murmur.

the king of curses has never known goodness. he's wrought untold destruction and misery, his name inspiring fear even after millenia. he's a legend— a god, even— yet here you are staring up at him and he swears the look in your eyes is almost tender.

"i don't know."

"and you had the nerve to call me an awful liar."

you know you're taking a risk when you lean up and press your lips to his. he freezes for a moment before his mouth begins to move against yours tentatively. his arm stays at his side, so you grab his hand, moving it to your waist.

it's as if that flips a switch in sukuna. he backs you up against the wall somewhat roughly and you can feel him smile against your lips when you let out a squeak of surprise.

he uses the opportunity to take your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it before moving to your neck with the intention of leaving a trail of marks across your delicate flesh.

you know you should care, but you just can't bring yourself to tell him to stop. you're too preoccupied with the feeling. he revels in the little gasps he's pulling from your throat, in the way you grab weakly at his biceps.

"you are divine, kitten," he growls. "been waiting so long to touch you."

just as he finishes speaking, he pulls back a few inches and his body stiffens.

"damn it. not now, you stupid brat—"

the words die in his throat as the black lines begin to fade and you're met with the perplexed face of your boyfriend. he breaths out your name, clearly worried. "what.. what happened?"

[jungkookschin]

older

think i need someone older, just a little bit colder, take the weight off your shoulders

synopsis: all your friends say you're delusional for thinking you have a chance with jungkook, the handsome older man you've known since forever, but you just can't seem to let him go. word count: 18k

pairing: older!jungkook x afab reader

genre: age gap au (seven years), social media au!!!, childhood acquaintance au, fluff, comedy, angsty, outta pocket, alludes to sexual innuendoes warnings: character death (not jk or y/n), cursing, nudity,

author's note: i am so overwhelmed with the support i've gotten for this fic!! obviously this isn't going to be the best written fanfic, but i genuinely enjoyed writing it!! and yes, there will be a part 2!

PART 1 | PART 2

“Girl.. be for real. He doesn’t want you.” Beomgyu’s opinion bounces off your bedroom wall but shoots into your heart like an arrow; you subtly glare at him through your vanity mirror. Though, the Snorlax plush headband and unblended concealer in triangles under your eyes is far less than intimidating. 

“Okay, fuck you-”

Beomgyu shrugs. “You can wear all the makeup in the world and you would never get his attention,” he nonchalantly utters, not caring enough to even look at you while he addresses you. You pout, sulking as Beomgyu’s very real assertion settles into your system. 

Jeon Jungkook would never see you that way. 

He adores you because you’ve been acquainted since childhood- your parents being close friends. He’s seven years older than you and has witnessed you blossom from a childish boy-crazy kid to an equally boy-crazy adult, the same way you’ve seen him go from a prepubescent pre teen to a hot, older, rich, man. 

“Look, and that’s not to say that you’re not pretty or whatever because you are pretty and a lot of guys want you, but Jungkook… he’s just too old for you,” he offers you an empathetic smile before attempting to assuage the petulance in the air.  “Honestly, I would be even more concerned if he responded to your advances because that would be.. hella weird.”

Beomgyu’s claims often transform your brain into a philosophical battlefield. Would it really be all that inappropriate for Jungkook to see you as a woman? An age gap of seven years holds no real significance if you were both in your 20’s, right? But does Jungkook knowing you since childhood completely nullify any chance you have with him?

“Oh fuck off with that. I’m not a little kid anymore. I’m already 19 years old, almost 20-”

“The delusion is never escaping this one…” Beomgyu mumbles. He finally looks up from his phone when you spring up from your chair and stomp over to him. You hold your manicured claw up to scratch his face, but Beomgyu grabs your wrist before you can do any damage. 

“You’re such a horse girl, don’t try to scratch me- wait are you crying?” Beomgyu’s gaze melts after noticing the tears accumulating in your waterline. 

“No!” you respond, the tip of your nose becoming slightly red. You raise your sleeve to wipe your nose. 

“Wait Y/N! You’re going to get makeup all over my hoodie!-” 

Beomgyu halts when he sees your unblended concealer transfer onto his very white and expensive hoodie. His lips form into a straight line while he stares at you blankly. 

“Sorry?” you squeak. He gestures dramatically- blinking at you like a pissed off owl.

…

…

…

You bolt to the door, sprinting from Beomgyu before he quickly follows in pursuit of you. You run through the house, tumbling down the stairs frantically, and when you turn the corner, you stub your toe against the wall, stumbling over and falling flat on your face. 

You shriek in pain, holding onto your toe. Your eyes immediately tear up, sobbing through the pain blistering in your toe. And for some reason, Beomgyu is nowhere to be found. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” 

You freeze when none other than Jungkook pops out of his room, completely shirtless with nothing but gray sweats on. His abs are literally ripping in your face and his entire sleeve of beautiful tattoos are practically mocking you- especially the mask one. It's laughing in your face because it gets to be on Jungkook’s body and you don’t.  

You begin to cry even harder. No physical pain would ever compare to the pain of not being able to have him. 

“Whoa, whoa, what happened?” Jungkook kneels down and takes your foot in his large hands. 

Thank God you got your toes done the day before. His thumbs press into the balls of your feet while he carefully inspects your toes. “Not fractured, I think. Think you can get up, baby?”

Baby. He’s been calling you that stupid nickname since forever. That’s what  everybody used to call you when you were younger; you were the youngest of all your parents’ friends’ kids after all. But for some reason, the nickname only seemed to stick with Jungkook. He has this horrible tendency (not really) of doting on you, taking care of you, and spoiling you to oblivion. 

You sniffle, shaking your head. 

Jungkook’s handsome face crinkles into a subtle laughter, an amused expression etched onto his features.  He takes his pointer finger and thumb, pinching your nostrils and wiping your snot onto his sweats. 

You smile sheepishly, butterflies erupting in your stomach. 

This man will literally touch your feet and boogers as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. That has to mean something, right? 

Jungkook scoops you into his arms bridal style and takes you into his room. 

Why Jungkook has a room in your house is beyond you. It seems like he was always over doing some errands for your parents- not that you were complaining, of course. He sets you down on his bed and uses his large palm to smooth over the frizzy hairs that are sticking up. 

“Just stay here for a while. I’ll take you to Urgent Care if it hurts in a few hours.”

Truth be told, that shit didn’t even hurt anymore, but there’s no way you were going to pass this opportunity up. You nuzzle into Jungkook’s sheets, his masculine smell absolutely amplifying your will to live. His cologne smells so good, the musky elegance of his scent making you dizzy as you bask in his essence. 

Anyways! Looks like you’re canceling your plans with Beomgyu. Apparently, he already knows that. 

Shutting your phone off, your eyes drift towards Jungkook, owlishly blinking at the computer code projected onto his large monitor. He’s got everything going for him: rich, hot, smart, successful. You want to cry again. “Jungkook, can I ask you something?”

His focus remains on the screen, eyes still boring onto the monitor before he absentmindedly responds, “Sup?”

“What would you do if a bear, a lion, and a gorilla just walked into this room right now?”

Jungkook’s fingers pause, hovering above his light up keyboard. He swivels around in his chair, his handsome features crinkling in evident confusion. 

“I’m serious. What would you do if a bear, a lion, and a gorilla showed up in your room? If you aren’t able to answer the question, then I don’t really know if I feel safe here,” you elaborate as you gesture with your hands, the bratty tone laced in your voice attempting to guilt trip him for not having a backup plan for this very specific specific situation. 

“Easy. I would feed you to them and then escape,” Jungkook bites back a cheeky smile  before spinning around and returning to his work. 

You gasp dramatically, pouting before you pull his covers over your head. 

Jungkook hums to himself, laughing at how obnoxious you can be.

Later on, another question is conjured in your imaginative little mind, and Jungkook’s lip twitches when he hears your classic Jungkook, I have another question. 

“Hmmm?”

“Do you think you could put me on with your piercing guy?”

Jungkook swivels around in his chair once again. “Thought you already had your ears and belly pierced.”

“It’s not enough. I want more. Wanna be like you,” you murmur, eyes settling on his five piercings decorating his left lobe, the one in his eyebrow, and the two on his lips. 

“It is enough,” he immediately counters, “You shouldn’t put holes in your body.”

You cock a brow at him.  “I know you’re not talking.”

Jungkook’s lip twitches upwards at your cheekiness. “Yea, I’ll send you his instagram. Tell him you’re with me and he’ll squeeze you in as soon as possible.”

-

“And I told Soobin to not piss in the water bottle, but he did anyway. And guess what? I almost drank from the same water bottle. Can you believe that? I was so fucking pissed at him I almost threw his piss back on him…” Yeonjun can tangibly feel that you’re not all there, your eyes occasionally drifting off- so his eyes follow your train of vision until-

“Oh c’mon Y/N!” Yeonjun’s fingers release the grip on the gym equipment, causing the weights to thunderously slam back into place. You yelp, flinching a bit before you swat Yeonjun’s biceps. 

“You scared me you bitch!”

“You scare me! And what the fuck are you wearing? What kind of basic bitch wears a pink set to the gym?”

You gasp dramatically. “You did not just say that.”

“And stop drooling over Jungkook! He doesn’t want you-mmmphh!” You clasp your palm over Yeonjun’s mouth mid-sentence, your boba eyes glaring up at him. You release your hand, pouting at him dramatically when you feel you’ve tortured him enough. 

Hands on your hips, you continue glowering at him and he gladly reciprocates the scowl on your lips. 

Yeonjun acquiesces from the glare-off almost immediately, too entirely soft to hold a grudge against his best friend. “Did you only agree to come to the gym with me to see Jungkook?” he asks, sincere disappointment laced in his words. 

You immediately soften, disheartened to hear the crestfallenness in his tone. You shake your head at the notion. “No- I wouldn’t do that. I swear he’s here by coincidence,” you explain thoughtfully, “I’m sorry for being an inattentive friend. It wasn’t intentional. I just get distracted whenever I see him. I’m sorry.” Your eyes return to Yeonjun’s who smiles knowingly at you. He opens his arms, offering an embrace and you gladly accept, hugging all the problems away. 

“You’re such a lovestruck girl,” Yeonjun teases. 

“I can’t help it. He just looks so good. Look at his arms and his tattoos- oh Yeonjun, I’ll never get over him. What should I do?”

“We just have to kill him. That’s the only option left,” your eyes meet his, his empty gaze boring into your skull before you both burst into giggles. 

“You’re right. That is the only option left.” You take a step back to stretch your arms, releasing the tension in your limbs until you sense a very familiar walking pattern approaching you.

“Hey Y/N,” Jungkook casually greets, creeping behind you to wrap a single arm around your shoulder. He pulls you closer to him from behind, nonchalantly nuzzling his forehead into the back of your head. You use both your hands to grip onto his thick forearm. “Um, hey Kook.”

Yeonjun bites back laughter, watching how you practically become hysterical at Jungkook’s casual gesture. 

Jungkook uses his vacant hand to dap up Yeonjun- over your head. “What’s up Yeonjun?” Jungkook grins. Yeonjun reciprocates the friendly greeting. “Hey, how’ve you been?  You looked great with the tricep presses.”

Jungkook beams at that. “Oh, you saw? I’ve been bulking so I’m trying to go super heavy with the weights.”

“I can tell. You look fucking enormous,” Yeonjun comments. 

Jungkook immediately dismisses the compliment with a wave. “Don’t say that. You look good too…”

Tuning out of the interaction, your brain begins to malfunction when you realize that Jungkook is extremely familiar with all of your friends. You definitely aren’t the most social person, often opting to napping in your cozy bed instead of going into the harsh, unforgiving world, but you are lucky enough to have great friends like Yunjin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, and Jungkook knows all of them. That had to be indicative of something deeper, right? Perhaps his underlying affection for you? Or a sign that he was possibly in love with you? 

“What are you giggling about?” Jungkook teases, gently using his vacant hand to ruffle your hair. 

You crimson intensely. “Nothing,” you sheepishly respond, skitterishly ducking under Jungkook’s arm to scurry behind Yeonjun, using your friend as a protective shield. 

“What’s up with her?” Jungkook asks Yeonjun, to which Yeonjun feigns ignorance. “Not a clue.”

“Well then, I’m gonna head out. I’m actually staying at Y/N’s for a bit because her parents are out of town. Can you believe I still have to babysit her?” Jungkook says to Yeonjun, giving you a teasing glance. 

“It’s just in case someone stalks me or tries to kill me! I don’t need to be babysat,” you emphasize, scowling at Jungkook and he can’t help but to reach out and pinch your cheek. The casual gesture sends you over the moon. 

“Whatever you say. You need a ride home though? I can wait so Yeonjun doesn’t have to waste gas on you,” Jungkook suggests, eyes darting towards yours then Yeonjun’s to detect any traces of reticence or hesitation in his features. 

You do the same, glancing towards Yeonjun who actually sports a look of indifference. You playfully link your arms with Yeonjun’s before sending Jungkook a downward smile. “It’s okay Kook.  Wanna spend time with my friend today.”

A touched gasp leaves Yeonjun’s lips as he holds his hand over his heart, gesticulating dramatically to convey his surprise that you would choose him over the man you’ve been salivating over the past thirty minutes. 

Jungkook has no protests about your preference. “Alright Y/N, see you at home. See you Yeonjun,” he gives you a little squeeze before he departs. 

Yeonjun waits until Jungkook is out of ear shot to provoke you, mocking you in an obnoxious, high pitched voice, “I don’t need to be babysat! You’re such a baby- but thank you for choosing me, you know.”

You tilt your head, eyebrows pinching before you subtly frown at Yeonjun’s comment. “Of course I would choose you. You’re my friend.” You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world- because it kinda is. Bros over hoes any day. 

Yeonjun’s lips quirk up at the sentiment, “Oh how touching, thank you so much for gracing me with your presence, my queen.”

-

Jungkook thinks you can be such a princess sometimes, especially when you drag your feet back into the house, a sour expression consuming your pretty features. Particularly receptive to your emotional fluctuations, he doesn’t hesitate to ask you what’s up. 

He leans against the kitchen counter, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows as his eyes settle on your moping figure. “Who made you sad? Bring them to me right now,” he muses. 

You pause, letting your light green gym bag (with little Snorlax’s decorated all over it) fall to the floor with a thud before gazing at him with a vacuous expression. “Why are you dressed up?” you point towards his work attire- a simple white button up and slacks. The buttons on his dress shirt are undone and messy, giving you access to his chest and it makes you want to roll around on the floor and cry. His slacks are tight- accentuating his long, muscular legs and you decide that you’d be okay with dying only if  you were suffocated between his thighs. 

“Had a work call,” he responds, indifference laced in his voice, “Now who made you sad? Want oppa to handle it for you?” he teases, releasing a breathless laugh at the way your nose scrunches up in disgust. 

Nonetheless, you spill everything to Jungkook- because you always spill everything to Jungkook and because you trust him with everything in you. He makes you feel safe. Plopping yourself down on the seat by the dining counter, you wordlessly slide your phone across the counter. Jungkook effortlessly stops your phone with a single hand, his eyes scanning across the array of text messages popping up on the screen. 

“Not this guy again,” he mutters under his breath, gauging the situation. 

“I know!” you concede, “Wish he would leave me alone- but I feel like I have to respond.”

The text messages were from none other than your ex-boyfriend, telling you how much he misses you, how he’ll do better for you, and every other generic I want you back text in the book.  

There are various reasons why you feel obligated to respond to him: (a) the whole breakup was a mess and (b) it was your fault. You were in a long-term, committed relationship with your high school sweetheart until you recognized your exponentially growing feelings for Jungkook. The guilt of breaking your ex’s heart haunts you- his crying, tear-stained face often popping up in your mind when you feel shitty, making you feel even shittier.  Though you were no longer emotionally tied to him you do feel obligated to give him closure, or at the very least respond to his text messages.  

But you’ve had this conversation with your ex numerous times. How much closure does one need in order to move on?

“You don’t have to respond to him,” Jungkook’s sonorous voice pulls you from the thoughts plaguing your mind. “You’ve already told him how you feel,” Jungkook is the rational force in your life, always tugging you towards the right direction, especially when your susceptible mind feels the need to please everyone and everything.

“I know,” you sigh, “I just feel bad. He was my first kiss, first boyfriend. It feels like I just abandoned him.”

A look of contemplation blankets Jungkook’s handsome face, evident by the way his fingers trace over his chin and lips. “That’s true,” he eventually asserts, “but no one as young as you should stay in a relationship out of obligation.” He approaches you and settles himself down on the vacant seat beside you. “Actually Y/N, I’m proud of you for building up the courage to let him go. It would be more painful if you forced yourself to stay.” 

You purse your lips and nod, allowing yourself to enjoy the sensation of Jungkook comfortingly rubbing your back. “t’s just sad. I used to love him.”

“I know Y/N, but sometimes you just have to start living in the present instead of the past. If you respond you’re just going to give him false hope. Just let it be,” he articulates, using prudence to assuage you.

You nod, craning your head to sustain eye contact with him, making the conversation feel all the more intimate and personal, “How would you feel if you were him? I mean- if your girlfriend broke up with you and you were still like- in love- with her?”

He tilts his head, thoroughly contemplating the question because he takes your feelings seriously, and he wants to give you the right answers. “If my girlfriend loses feelings then she loses feelings, there’s nothing I can do about it. I definitely wouldn’t beg for her back, I’d go out and make a lot of money instead,” he smiles, “But I wouldn’t know how it feels. I’ve never been dumped before,” he adds. 

“Seriously?” you interject, not believing that Jungkook has never been dumped in his 26 years of living. “What about that one girl you brought to Thanksgiving Dinner a few years ago? What happened to her?”

“Ahh her?” he somewhat grimaces at the thought of his ex-girlfriend, “She was getting a little too suffocating so I let her go. She was really pissed off- tried to key my car and shit,” he states. 

You gasp. His ex-girlfriend was so sweet to you- she even bought you a Snorlax plush keychain. But you can imagine Jungkook trying to hold her back while she jostles out of his grip, trying to key his car- his baby. “No way? If she ever comes back, just let me know. I’ll throw hands for you,” you enunciate, showing him your fists to which Jungkook just scoffs in amusement. 

“Yea, I’ll definitely call you,” he remarks sarcastically before getting up, “So are you good, baby?” he asks, casually resting his hand on your shoulder, and you nod. 

“‘M good. I’m not gonna respond to him.”

Jungkook’s lips quirk up at that. “Good.”

-

 Jungkook is livid. You can tell by the way he spam calls you even after you repeatedly reject his calls. You quietly sneak out of the lecture hall and answer his call once you’ve reached the hallway. 

“What? I’m in class,” you impatiently mutter. 

“You’re fucking kidding, aren’t you?” he scoffs through the phone, “I canceled your appointment, by the way.”

The color drains from your face once you realize what this is about. “He told you?”

“You’re out of your fucking mind if you thought you could go through me to get your nipples pierced! I can’t believe you thought I would let you do that!”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” you whisper shout into his phone, “I’m an adult, I can do whatever I want!”

“No you’re not. Baby, you can’t even drink,” he reiterates, a little more calmly this time. 

“Who cares? You’re not my mom! I can do whatever I want. Even if it’s through someone else!” you bark back. The silence that ensues intimidates you.

“Baby.” His voice is low, and it’s kinda hot but you don’t pay attention to it because of how angry you are at him trying to monopolize your actions.

“I’m not a fucking baby anymore so stop calling me that!” 

“You’re not a baby?” Jungkook laughs lowly into the phone, as if the claim itself is ridiculous.

“‘m not.” He can practically hear your pout through the phone.

“You can’t even get on a plane by yourself.”

You gasp at Jungkook’s low blow. That was one time. A month ago, you took a flight to Vegas for EDC to meet up with Yunjin, who flew out the day before you. But you had no clue how to check your bag in, and were far too intimidated to go through the security check by yourself. What if they thought your ID was fake? Or worse what if they sent you to jail? There was just no way you could go through by yourself.

You remember the way Jungkook shook his head at your preposterous notions but nonetheless still agreed to take care of you.

So Jungkook drove you to the airport, carried your bag for you, weighed it, and checked it in. He also stood with you for the entire thirty minute wait at security and only left the airport when called and told him you were waiting at the departure gate.

You don’t respond, and he takes it as an opportunity to further his point. 

“That’s what I thought. End of story. You’re not getting it done.” 

He hangs up and you blissfully sigh. This literally takes feminism back 32904098 years, but you kind of love a man that can put you in your place. 

-

Jungkook goes to the gym everyday solely so he can beat the shit out of Taehyung and Mingyu, who get off on tormenting him for his extremely complex and profound feelings for you. 

Hooking up to the bluetooth speaker and blaring the sound of police sirens, going “Ayo! He’s right here, officer!” every time they walk past a policeman- they even go as far as putting handcuffs on him while he sleeps- hooting and howling in laughter when Jungkook wakes with his hands restrained.  

Initially, it made his intestines twist and turn with pure guilt, guilt about harboring feelings for you, the little girl who used to prance around his room and do cartwheels in futile attempts to impress him. 

His friends make him feel like shit, but they’re his friends for a reason. 

“Hey, so how’s Y/N?” Mingyu casually asks, sinking into the welcoming leather of Jungkook’s sleek, black sofa. He props his feet up on Jungkook’s coffee table-  mahogany brown and custom designed to suit Jungkook’s meticulous and elegant taste. 

Jungkook narrows his eyes at the nonchalance of the comment, half expecting Taehyung to pop out of nowhere in policeman cosplay, ready to put him in cuffs. “Why’re you asking?”

When Mingyu detects the hostility blanketing Jungkook’s features, his jaw drops in realization of the reality of the situation. “Wait.. you don’t take us seriously when we tease you about that shit, right?”

Jungkook cocks his head in confusion, settling beside Mingyu, chopsticks in hand as he blows on his ramen. “I mean, kinda. I feel guilty about it.”

Mingyu eyes his friend for a while, and Jungkook slowly turns his head towards Mingyu when he feels lasers boring holes into his skull. “What, asshole?”

“Ah, sorry man. I didn’t know it bothered you. I kind of thought it was a given that you and Y/N are cute together. Didn’t know the age gap bothered you.”

Oh. 

Jungkook pauses, setting his sizzling ramen back into the plastic container instead of into his mouth, and Mingyu feels the need to further elaborate. 

“I mean, you’re always helping her out, taking care of her,  that’s pretty cute.”

Jungkook blinks at Mingyu, raking his tattooed hand through his hair. “Doesn’t that just make me look like a dumbass?” he mutters, before letting out a bitter, light-hearted laughter at the reality of his assertion.  

His emotions for you run deep and intricate, but one thing remains unequivocally clear: he doesn't do these things because he expects something in return. That would be selfish. Obligation doesn't factor into his decisions either. Jungkook doesn't subscribe to such motivations when it comes to his personal life. He views it as unnecessary and cumbersome—except when it involves you. Whether it's looking after you, lending you money, helping you with homework, or driving you to the airport, he does it all because he genuinely loves you.

He acknowledges the peculiarity of his natural inclination to care for you. In the past, he's ended numerous relationships due to girls he found excessively clingy, suffocating, or overbearing, all attributes he easily uses to describe you- but he lives for that shit when it comes to you.

Mingyu’s forehead wrinkles in confusion. “What? That girl loves you, Jungkook. If she does good in school and gets rich, you’d be bathing in that shit,” Mingyu jokes, causing Jungkook to sputter out laughter at the absurd thought. 

“Right now though?” Mingyu continues, “She wouldn’t be able to change your tire or some shit, but she brings you this sense of peace, and that’s something every guy needs in his girl.” 

Jungkook pauses at that. 

-

Jungkook is abruptly awoken by the blaring sound of his ringtone. Groggily, he reaches for his phone on the nightstand, eyes barely open. 

You, the only person that would call him at 3 in the morning, and you the only person he would answer at 3 in the morning.

Babysitting is the last word he would use to explain why he’s at your house right now. He’s at your house because, well,  he would do anything for you, even if you aren’t aware of the lengths he would go to keep you satiated and happy. 

He’s aware that men find you charming for your ditzy and oblivious nature, but Jungkook likes you regardless of whether or not you possess such an arbitrary trait. But it is true that there are a lot of things you aren’t aware of, like how utterly lovely you are. Jungkook knows you- sees how oblivious you are to the men who shamelessly ogle at you, or the boys who practically break their necks to get a glimpse at you. 

You have this resonating effect on him. You drive him crazy and you don’t even know it.

Initially, Jungkook had never truly focused his attention on you, yet as time passed, an irresistible attraction began to pull him toward you. He vividly recalls an incident in particular that left him dumbfounded.

Jungkook’s mom visited yours to drop off some vegetable. Gifting fruits and vegetables from their gardens are the way the aunties demonstrate their love and appreciation for one another. Jungkook reckons you didn’t know he was there because you pranced down the stairs with the tiniest boy shorts and  camisole top. Jungkook isn’t the type of man to become disoriented over the sight of a woman’s body, practically desensitized from all the women he’s been with, but he stiffens at your presence.

“Wow baby!” His mother giggles, using your classic nickname as she ogles you shamelessly, “You’re getting really sexy!” 

She playfully nudges your mom, “Are you ready to have grandchildren?” The joke makes your mother roll her eyes, though a smile lingers on her lips, infinitely proud of her beautiful daughter.

“I wish someone would marry my daughter!” Your mom jests, “All she ever does is sleep! I just wish a man would even look her way!” 

Jungkook’s eyebrows pinch in bewilderment. He knew your mother was only joking, teasing you as per usual- because clearly, you are captivatingly gorgeous. You make a sly comment in return to make his mom giggle, always so smooth and sociable with the old ladies. 

Suddenly, you randomly swivel around, yelping at Jungkook’s presence. “Oh hey,” you greet, fidgeting in place, “I didn’t know you were here. Sorry- I should cover up a little.”

For the first time in his life Jungkook is speechless in front of you. You. You just look so pretty standing in front of him, your manicured fingers twirling a single strand of hair, gazing at him and gnawing your lips like he makes you nervous when in reality you make him tremble with just one look. It makes his chest tighten and he inhales deeply to compose himself.

“No. Not at all, you should be comfortable in your own home,” the smile he offers you is forced, polite, and you’re bewildered at the tension accumulating between you and him. Your eyes glint downward; you can’t even look at him, and suddenly a bold wave of impulsivity washes over you.

“Hey Jungkook, can we talk in the other room?”

Jungkook’s eyes flash towards his mother’s then rapidly back at you. Subconsciously, his eyes trace down your body and he feels like has to physically gouge his eyes out to prevent himself from looking.

“Yea, sure.”

He follows you upstairs into the guest room, taking extreme measures to keep his pupils focused on the ceiling lights above your head. However, his efforts work against him because the ceiling lights shine on you like a spotlight, illuminating your gorgeous figure as you make your way up the stairs.

Your fingers wrap around his forearm and you pull him into the room.

You waste no time getting straight to the point.“Jungkook, I think I’m pregnant.”

Jungkook blinks, processing what you just said. “Huh?”

You bite your lip anxiously, crossing your arms while you look down at your toes. “My period is late, and I don’t know what to do- you’re the only person I trust to talk about this.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to confirm the sentiment. “You can trust me with anything. I’ll always take care of you- ‘m just a little shocked because I thought you were still a virgin.”

Gasping dramatically, you pout at him and stomp your foot. “I’m not a little kid anymore.”

Yea, clearly not, he thinks. “Just act normal. After I drop my mom off at home I’ll come back with a pregnancy test.”

You nod and give him a downward smile. “Thanks- ‘m just really nervous and I hope I’m not pregnant because I don’t even remember who the dad is and-“

Jungkook frowns at that, perturbation morphing onto his features. “Y/N, you don’t remember who the dad is? Please don’t do that- only sleep with people you trust. Please.”

“I trust you.” 

The words tumble from your lips immediately, before you can even process your thoughts. You clasp your hand over your mouth, a small gasp leaving your lips as you gaze up at him in pure horror. 

Jungkook doesn’t know what to think- doesn’t even know if that was just a fragment of his imagination. He blinks at you, brain too fused to even conjure a proper response.

“Wait- I didn’t mean it like that!” you blurt out. At that moment, you give up on any attempt to salvage the situation and scurry out of the room, stumbling back down the stairs. 

Jungkook runs his hands over his face. 

He’s going to hell for the thoughts running through his mind.

Thank God you weren’t pregnant but after that night Jungkook just never looked at you as just a family friend. It’s complicated . It’s morally conflicting, and it frustrates Jungkook like nothing else.

“Hello?” he speaks into the phone

“I bled on my bed,” you sniffle into the phone, “Just please come upstairs,” you say before abruptly hanging up.

He begrudgingly rises from his bed. Though tired, he doesn’t hesitate to throw his black t-shirt over his head to look presentable for when he checks up on you.  Rubbing at his eyes with his knuckles, he shoves his hands into the pockets of his black sweats as he makes his way up the stairs. He gently opens the door to see you sitting idly under your covers, clinging onto your Snorlax plushie for dear life. You’re wearing 

He sits on the edge of your bed. “You ran out of pads?”

You don’t say anything, remaining stiff like an ice sculpture, not melting under Jungkook’s warm touch like you usually do.

He nods at you and gently tugs on your oversized T-shirt, urging you to get up as he sticks out his hand. “Change the sheets and I’ll go out and buy you some pads-“

“Jungkook, I'm in love with you.” 

Abrupt. 

Impulsive. 

Messy. 

But you feel like you just have to say it.  With a radiant glow on your rosy cheeks, you purse your lips in a demure manner, physically unable to look at him. You have to look at Snorlax to get your words out instead. 

You inhale deeply. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry if it creeps you out but I’ve always had feelings for you- and I hate you for it because I don’t think I’ll ever have the capacity to love anyone else like I love you.” With glossy eyes you finally peer at him just to see an entirely indecipherable expression- you’re not sure if it conveys shock, bewilderment, or horror but it evokes the most unsettling and humiliating sensation in the pit of your stomach. 

Just as day transforms into night, humiliation morphs into anger, and anger morphs into nonsensicality. Outrage bubbles within you and you chuck the Snorlax plushie at his face. 

“Fuck you! How can you treat me the way you do and expect me not to feel anything?! I emotionally cheated on my ex with you! You’re the fucking worst and I hate you. I hate you so fucking much!” Your hands frantically search for every single squishmallow, plushie, and teddy bear you have and you violently chuck your beloved squishies at him.  From zero to one hundred, you’ve escalated rapidly and you feel like you’ll die if you don’t convey everything to him right now, in this moment. 

Jungkook remains stoic, somewhat resembling the statue of a Greek god: handsome and stagnant, not even flinching at the impact of your squishies hitting his built body or the way you nonsensically scream at him.

“This is all your fucking fault Jungkook. You ruined my life! You ruined love for me! I’ll never get a boyfriend, never get married, never have kids because of you! I’m going to die alone and it’ll be all your fucking fault! How could you do that to me? How could you do that to me?” You erupt into sobs, pushing your face into your hands as you violently cry. Snot, tears, and saliva leak from your face as the chagrin completely consumes you. 

“Y/N.” The sound of Jungkook’s deep, baritone voice is barely audible over the sounds of your heaving. 

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He does sound sorry, but you can’t help but question the authenticity of his words because he didn’t do anything wrong in the first place. It’s like he’s merely uttering an apology to appease you. 

But for Jungkook, he’ll apologize a million times if it helps dry your tears.  He never let his pride get in the way when it comes to you.

He sits at the edge of your bed, using his finger to tilt your chin up, revealing your disheveled, snotty, and glossy face. You whimper when your vision clears and focuses on him. 

He wipes your face with your own shirt, tugging up the hem to absorb your tears, still gentle and attentive. You swat his hand away. “You need to stop doing that,” you mewl, blinking more tears from your eyes. 

“You need to stop crying. It makes me sad,” he retorts, passing you the same Snorlax plushie you violently launched at him. You cushion the plushie on top of your thighs and bring your knees to your chest. You inhale and exhale deeply, trying to settle from your emotional high. 

“You don’t even take me seriously,” you mumble, peeking up at him. 

“I always take you seriously,” Jungkook responds, “but I want you to stop crying first-

“Jungkook, kiss me,” you breathe out, “If you don’t hate me, then kiss me,” you say, your eyes fluttering shut, delusionally- as if he was about to kiss you. Instead, you feel his large palm on your head, softly caressing your hair. 

“I’m not gonna kiss you. You should get some rest.” His voice is deep, calm, and composed. How can he be so normal when you’re on the brink of losing your mind?

Your face scrunches up in indignation before you erupt in tears once again, practically screaming. “Fuck you! I hate you! I hate you!”

“Y/N.” He calls your name repeatedly.

“Y/N-”

“Shut the fuck up you asshole!”

“Y/N,” his voice becomes more stern with everytime he calls your name, but you don’t let him get a word in. You keep screaming at him, calling him every name in the book of insults, shaking him off every time he goes near you.  

When he attempts to sit by you, you violently push him away. “Go away! I’m not a little kid anymore! I don’t fucking need you anymore! I’m gonna be single forever because of you! If you don’t want me to be single forever then just fucking leave and never come back!” 

You’re aware that your words are horrible, but the overwhelming sense of embarrassment and shame erupting in your system prevents any rational train of thoughts from developing in your mind. You’re embarrassed and devastated that Jungkook doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, and it sends you spiraling.

He attempts to calm you once more by sitting on your bed, but you push him even more violently. “Don’t fucking touch me! I’m never gonna find love because of you! Just fucking die, just leave forever if-”

He staggers on his feet, caught off balance from the force of your push, and for the first time in his life Jungkook yells at you.  

“Y/N!”

Giving you no time to say or think anything, he seats himself on your makeup chair, tattooed hand gripping onto its top rail. “Y/N,” he scowls deeply at you, features blanketed in exasperation,  “We’ll talk about this later, but you need to calm the fuck down. You’re hurting me when you talk like that.”

Your eyebrows furrow deeply in horror, your cheeks tear-stained and your eyes filled with sorrow. The haunting realization of what you just said settles into your system. Your quivering lips barely enunciate your words. “Kook, I’m so sorry,” you blubber out. “I shouldn’t have said that, I didn’t mean it. I promise I didn’t mean it!” You shoot up, stumbling over your own feet and collapsing onto the floor. You’re a mess. Your face glistens with a layer of your own snot, and your hair is matted and tangled, the result of the countless times you tugged at it during this interaction. 

Unbeknownst to you, there's a red blotch near the lower hem of your T-shirt, and droplets of blood escape you and drip onto the floor as you stumble out of bed.  Jungkook notices though, eyebrows pinching in concern as a very disturbed expression morphs on his face when you collapse to your knees, your trembling hands holding onto him for support. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it! It’s all my fucking fault!”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything. 

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” you sniffle. “I’m so sorry I said that. That was so horrible of me. Please don’t die. I’m so sorry.”

A sigh of vexation leaves his lips, but nonetheless he remains patient, compassionate towards  the devastation that consumes your face. “I’m not gonna die.” He cups your face with his tattooed hand, and uses his thumb to wipe the idle tears on your face.  “I forgive you. It’s okay.” 

“Promise? Promise it’s okay? I’m so sorry,” you cry even more, desperately latching onto his hands, using the side of his fingers to wipe your eyes.  

“It’s okay,” he confirms, tilting your head upwards before wiping your face with a makeup wipe from your vanity. “‘M really tired. I’m gonna go get your pads then I’ll be back. 

You sniffle. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” The smile he gives you is forced, and it makes you feel horrible.

He motions his head towards your bed. “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when I come back.”

You tiredly listen to his words, getting under your covers and holding onto your Snorlax plush. “Good night Kook.”

“Night,” he says, somewhat emotionlessly, flickering the lights off and vacating your room. 

-

Horrible. You wake up with puffy eyes, infinite eye boogers, and an awful pit in your stomach. The memories of last night come flooding in and you immediately check your phone to see if Jungkook texted you. There’s nothing there. 

Why would he want to talk to you after what you did?

You decide to send him a text message to further emphasize how sorry you are. 

You throw your phone on the bed and scream into the stomach of Snorlax. 

Dry. He’s being so fucking dry and it’s all your fault. 

The next few weeks are spent with you attempting to redeem yourself. 

-

You have no idea why you’re in front of Jungkook’s work, let alone with a lunchbox cake in hand. Begrudgingly, you stumble inside the tall building, awkwardly smiling when you come face to face with the sweet old security man. Jungkook’s work place is fancy as hell. Every floor of the tower hosts the office of an aristocratic company. There are even enormous, airport-esque x-ray machines stationed towards the entrance. You have to walk through a metal detector to be granted access into the building.

“Why hello, young lady! What business do you have here today?” 

“Um, I have a cake for someone. H-he works at HYBE Tech Solutions.”

“Alright, go ahead and put your bag and belongings here,” he says, motioning towards the tray on the X-ray machine conveyor belt. You watch as your belongings pass through the machine and come out on the other end. Then, you step through the metal detector, holding your arms up to be properly inspected. You bid the security man goodbye and walk towards the elevator. 

An ominous feeling of stupidity washes over you as you press your fingers onto the elevator buttonsYou feel stupid. You feel dumb. You feel silly. You would never do this for a man, but here you are. 

You take a deep breath before you stumble in, coming face to face with the lady that works at the front desk. Your eyes settle on the badge on her blouse. Dorothy. You vaguely remember Jungkook ranting about this woman, venting about how she crossed professional and ethical boundaries-  often sneakily creeping her fingers up his chest while they spoke and even going as far as to dig into the company’s database for his personal information. 

You clear your throat. “Hi, how’s your day been?”

“I’m great! Thanks for asking, hun. How can I help you today?” She asks, voice bubbly and uplifting, perfect for customer service.  

“Oh! Um- I have something for Jungkook. He works in the tech department.”

Her bubbly and friendly atmosphere immediately diminishes, and she raises her eyebrows at you before eyeing you conspicuously. With a vacuous expression, she picks up the landline, pressing her thin fingers into the numbers. “Hey, can you let Jungkook know that there’s a child here for him?”

You purse your lips at that, rocking back and forth on your heels. You try to avoid eye contact with this woman by looking elsewhere- pupils frantically darting to the daisies on the front desk or  the grandfather clock that sits idly against the beige walls- but she’s persistently staring you down. 

Thank God Jungkook appears from the end of the hallway. 

He sports a light blue button up and brown slacks, a stack of papers in his tattooed hand while the other rakes through his short hair. He looks delicious as ever and clearly Dorothy agrees because she practically moans as he walks down the hallway.

“Y/N?” He narrows his eyes in your direction, confirming that it’s really you.

“Um hi Kook. I brought you something.” You use two hands to present the styrofoam box to him.

Jungkook’s eyes scan from the lunchbox to you. He places the stack of papers on the front desk before accepting the box and popping open its lid. “A cake?” he questions, and you nod shyly, fidgeting in place. 

“Thanks,” he plainly says, giving you an awkward smile before his eyes dart towards Dorothy, who is intensely scrutinizing the interaction. There is tension in the atmosphere, and Dorothy’s presence isn’t helping. 

He clears his throat. “You didn’t have to, you should be studying,” he says, his words a little more light-hearted this time.

You shake your head. “I wanted to do this for you. I’m sorry for last night, Koo.”

He stares at you before letting a sigh escape his lips. “t’s okay Y/N. Told you I‘m not mad. We’ll talk about this later.”

You twiddle with your fingers, your puppy eyes flickering towards him. 

“Hug?” he asks, cutting the tension, tilting his head while he holds his arms open. You pout, nodding before running into his arms. He holds you tight, and whispers into the top of your head so Dorothy wouldn’t catch heed of the conversation. “You made me sad last night, you know.”

“‘I’m sorry.”

“‘It's okay. I can never be mad at you for too long,” He subtly releases you from his embrace and pinches your cheek. “Now go home, okay?”

You take a step back and offer a nod. And for some reason, Jungkook feels that you’re looking at him as if you’ll never see him again. “Enjoy your cake.” 

Jungkook smiles back, waving you goodbye. You turn to the office lady, who quickly averts her eyes once you notice her blatant eavesdropping. “Thank you auntie. Have a nice day!”

Jungkook has to physically restrain himself from laughing.

-

A heart emoji. Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his most insignificant actions.  You hold your phone to your chest and bite back a smile. 

Loud music booms and vibrates through the walls of this massive mansion. There’s a huge pool, complete with a waterslide and waterfalls spilling into the pool. You’re surrounded by tons of other like-minded college kids, clad in nothing but a white lace bikini. You’re able to acknowledge that it isn’t the most tasteful outfit, but you feel good and you look good. 

After jumping in the pool and violently pelting water balloons at each other (effectively scaring away all the hoes), you and Yunjin lie under a cabana mindlessly scrolling through your phones. You only look up from your phone when you sense Yunjin holding up her phone for a selfie. Jungkook would have rolled his eyes at the sight.

“Can I show you something?” you abruptly blurt out, eliciting a cynical look from your friend. “Is it bad?”

You immediately shake your head, composing your posture so you can properly show Yunjin your texts with Jungkook. Her eyes rapidly scan over the phone in moments and she shoots you a sly glance. 

“So do you think?-”

“I don’t know… but I really, really, really hope that it means something. I don’t want him to see me as a little kid anymore, you know?” Bashfully, you smile at her, your demure expression a complete juxtaposition to your practically naked figure. 

Yunjin cups your cheeks making your glossy lips pouty. “Y/N! You’re about to pull Jungkook!”

“I am?”

“Yes you are-”

Yunjin flinches dramatically when a harsh stream of water unexpectedly drenches you. You both whip your head to the culprit in question: Beomgyu standing directly in front of you with a massive water gun. 

“You bitch!” Yunjin shoots up and runs after him with you rapidly following your partner in crime’s lead. But as you’re running towards Beomgyu (who maniacally screams and dashes), another stream hits you from the back.

The second culprit. Soobin. You sprint towards, latching your claws onto his white T-shirt him while you tug him towards the pool. “Wait Y/N! I just dried off. I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” 

No mercy for this bitch.

You position yourself behind him, using your whole body to push him into the pool. Splash! You jump and squeal in excitement when he emerges from the water wiping his face with his hands. You laugh hysterically in his face, childishly pointing your finger at him, finding it even more hilarious when he gives you the stink eye. “That’s what you get, asshole!-“

You pause and shriek in horror.

Somebody just pulled on the strings of your bikini top, exposing your boobs to the entire party.

You instinctively crouch, shoving your chest into your knees.The gasp of horror that leaves Soobin’s lips mirrors yours, and he immediately springs into action, rapidly lifting himself from the pool and sprinting after whatever asshole just violated you.

“Y/N!” Your savior, Yeonjun appears in front of you, crouching to your level. He rapidly rids himself of his shirt and pulls it over your entire figure. “You’re good, you’re good,” he whispers calmly to you, trying to prevent you from having a full blown panic attack. You stand up reticently, folding your arms over your chest, eyes trained on the ground and only looking at Yeonjun’s feet to gauge which direction you’re heading in.

“You okay?” Yeonjun settles under the cabana. “That guy is such a dick,” he mutters to himself. 

You nod and sink into the cushion of the outdoor-couch. “I’m so fucking embarassed.”

Attempting to salvage the situation, Yeonjun immediately shakes his head. “No, no. Nobody saw anything.” You shoot him a skeptical look, knowing damn well everybody in the party saw your bare boobs. 

“Is that Jungkook?”

You immediately whip your head towards the left, and indeed Jungkook is walking your way. You can’t believe he’s real. All heads whip in his direction as he makes his way towards you. He flicks his head back to prevent hair from falling in front of his eyes, barefoot, black T-shirt, and gray shorts. He looks so handsome you can’t even comprehend it. 

“Y/N!” He shouts, quicklyducking under the roof of the cabana before he positions himself in front of you. He inhales and exhales deeply, the blistering sun forming particles of sweat on his forehead. 

You look up at him and your heart melts. The sheen of sweat on his face, the way his eyes fixate on you. Your heart skips a beat. You want to cry. Again. Out of embarrassment, and how emotional you become at Jungkook’s mere presence.   

You bury your head into your knees, making Jungkook's eyebrows pinch. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Yeonjun opens his mouth, hesitatingly glancing at you to confirm if telling Jungkook is okay.

You shoot up and practically catapult yourself onto Jungkook, latching onto him like a Koala. “Nothing happened,” you say, nuzzling your face into his shirt. “Come swim with me. Please.” 

Jungkook sighs, using his large palm to tame your frizzy stray hairs. “Y/N. We need to go home.”

You cock your head in confusion.“Wait why?”

His voice becomes oddly stern. “Y/N. It’s important and we have to go home.”

“To your place or mine?”

“My place. Just follow me.”

You haven’t a clue as to why Jungkook is behaving so urgently, but you follow him nonetheless. You pick up your purse and give Yeonjun a quick hug, running after Jungkook who cooly breezes past everyone, not a single person missing the hot guy who suddenly showed to the party. 

Jungkook opens his car door for you and allows you to step in. 

“Jungkook… is something going on?”

“Yes, there is,” he says grimacing slightly, shutting the door for you before he climbs into the driver’s seat. 

This nauseating anxiety bubbles inside you and sends chills up your spine, making you flinch when Jungkook closes the car door on his side. Jungkook doesn’t say anything, just looks behind his shoulder to reverse from his parking spot before zooming out of there. 

“Is this because of what happened the other night?” you ask, and he glances at you quickly. 

“No, it isn’t.”

“Well.. are we going to talk about it?” you push, twiddling with your fingers. 

Jungkook shakes his head, noticing your trembling fingers in his peripheral view. He reaches over and puts his hand on top of yours. “Not now.” 

You don’t respond, shifting in confusion.

“Here,” Jungkook starts, throwing his phone in your lap, “You can play whatever song you want.”

You purse your lips and silently nod. 

Sooner or later, you arrive at Jungkook’s apartments, and he leads you up the stairs and sits you on his black leather couch. 

He cups your face with both hands, caressing the apples of your cheek with his thumbs. With your eyebrows pinched, you peer into Jungkook’s eyes, conveying your confusion through your scrunched facial features. 

“Y/N, before I tell you what I want to tell you, I want you to take a few breaths. Just know that I’m always here for you.”

You nod steadily, pretty facial features still crinkled in confusion. 

“Y/N, your parents were in a car accident, and they didn’t make it.”

“What?”

And as the haunting realization settles into your system, all you can remember are your shrieks of terror echoing throughout his apartment and the way Jungkook holds you against his body while he wipes your tears and assuages your loud cries. 

-

The few days that proceed are a blur, but Jungkook takes care of you and is far more attentive than he ever has been. You cling onto him like fragile glass ornament hanging from a delicate thread- like he was all you had left because he was all you had left. He was your spring solace after a harsh winter, and the way he treated you indicated as much.

Jungkook works from home so you aren’t alone. For the entire day, you sit on his bed and watch him work. You eavesdrop on his meetings, falling asleep to the sound of his voice and whenever you wake up Jungkook ensures that he feeds you, constantly worried about your inability to eat. 

You’re queasy just thinking about going back to your house, so your daily and nightly attire consist of pieces from Jungkook’s wardrobe. You haven’t verbally acknowledged what has happened- not ready to talk about the death of your parents. You’re just trying to survive, and you feel like you’re barely making it. 

Thankfully, all your friends and family have been extremely helpful trying to get you through your grief. Jungkook’s mother stays with you for a few days, and after that Yunjin sleeps over with you for a few days- but you know that a piece of your heart has been ruthlessly ripped form you.

“Y/N, you need to take a shower,” Jungkook expresses, obstructing your view of the TV. His toothbrush hangs from his mouth, toothpaste residue bubbling around the perimeter of his lips. You owlishly blink at him, observing how his expression hardens at your look of indifference. 

You scoot towards the left end of the couch, hoping to get a clear view of Ever After High projected on his flat screen TV. 

“Y/N you haven’t showered in three days,” Jungkook interjects, “Please take a shower.”

“I will. Later.”

He pushes up his glasses, staring at you with intense disapproval. “Y/N,” he says sternly, trying to be gentle despite his qualms. 

You acquiesce, pouting at him. “Okay, fine. Later.”

His frown deepens. “Y/N.”

You chew on your bottom lip, deeply contemplating what Jungkook has asked of you. His large frame remains frozen in front of you. No matter how you position yourself on the couch, he renders you unable to watch the princesses prance around on the TV.

“Okay… but will you at least come with me? I don’t want to be without you.”

Jungkook pauses. 

“I don’t mean like getting in with me, but will you just sit on the toilet and talk to me?” You ask, sinking into the leather of his sofa and using your sweater paws to sweep your hair back. 

“Yea, I’ll do that.”

Once you step in the shower, you close the curtains, and strip yourself from your clothes, handing the pile of clothes to Jungkook. You turn on the water, yelping at the sensation on your body. Jungkook was right. You needed this and you kind of do smell like butthole. 

“Wait Y/N, do you want me to go to your house and get you underwear?” 

After folding up your (his) T-shirt and boxers, he notices that you haven’t been wearing any undergarments. 

“No!” you call back, “I don’t want you to go there! Not yet,” you call back. 

“Then do you want me to buy you some?” he responds, placing the folded clothes on the bathroom counter. 

“Um, maybe we can order some on Amazon.”

“Just send me the link and I’ll place the order.”

“Okay.”

A wave of silence washes over the bathroom, and you peek your head from the shower curtain to see what Jungkook’s up to: scrolling on Instagram. On his screen is some instagram model’s bikini pic, his fingers pausing on the screen so he can look at the photo.  

“Who is that?” you ask, making Jungkook jump in his seat. 

“What the- Y/N, just take your shower!” Jungkook feigns annoyance but can’t help himself but scoff in amusement at how petty you can be.

“Is she prettier than me?” you ask, glaring at Jungkook with disapproval. 

Jungkook purses his lips and tugs the shower curtain past your face and holds it against the wall, preventing you from peeking your pretty head past the curtain. He holds it there for a good minute, unfazed by the thrashing against the shower curtain. 

Swish. 

You swipe open the shower curtain from the other side. Your eyes bore into Jungkook’s and Jungkook thinks you’re foolish not to realize how alluring and sultry you are. Your bare body is akin to a sculpture of the goddess Aphrodite. Water drips from the crevices of your body and you gaze at him with anticipation etched onto your face. You’re just standing there, but your posture is so seductive- or maybe it’s just the natural curvature of your body. 

“Why don’t you join me?” your sweet voice makes his Adam's apple bob in his throat. 

When he doesn’t respond, your features morph into humiliation, regret consuming you. You nod your head. “Sorry Kook, I’ll just-”

“Y/N, you’re gorgeous. Any man can see how lovely you are. Honestly, you take my breath away every time I see you,” Sensing the trepidation on your face, he solidifies his claim, “I mean it Y/N. You’re beautiful, and I want to join you but I’m not going to. You’re hurting right now and I don’t want to do anything to take advantage of you.”

And he isn’t lying, he yearns for every kind of contact with you, but he’s not going to go through with this. Not when you’re traumatized from the death of your parents. Not when you’ve been so unhinged for the past week, refusing to even shower. 

You stare at him for a second, dazy eyed and your eyes darting around the room. “Okay Jungkook. I’m sorry.”

He smiles sweetly at you and gently closes the shower curtain. “It’s okay Y/N. I’m gonna head to my room. You’re welcome to come visit me anytime.”

-

Boys’ night. Jungkook being the handsome stud he is, happens to have friends that are also handsome studs. Jungkook offered to postpone boys’ night but you declined his attempts to make you more comfortable. Jungkook has exerted so much effort to take care of you. There’s no reason for him to forgo time with his best friends. Besides, you can always hide in your room. 

You crack your door open slightly ajar, peeking through the crack to spy on Jungkook and his friends. Antisocial is the perfect word to describe you. 

The sound of the doorbell ringing was your cue to lock yourself in your room. Jungkook knocked a few times, but you were too scared of other people that you didn’t even grace him with a response. 

Clearly Jungkook got the message because he opted to leave a greasy piece of pizza outside your door, sending you a quick text message about it.

You just wanted to scout the scene, see who was there. Mingyu, Taehyung, Jimin, and Namjoon. Soju bottles are scattered around the table, and there’s some music blaring from the TV. You’ve met everyone here a few times- they all know you, but you aren’t close with Jungkook’s friends like he is with your friends. 

“Oh Y/N! Come join us!” You freeze at Mingyu’s words, and all eyes in the room whip towards your direction.

 “Umm..” you close the door gently and leap into the safety of your bed.

You overhear their banter through the wooden door. “Hey! Why are you making little kids uncomfortable!” Jimin yells, slapping Mingyu on the neck. 

Your lip quivers, and you inhale deeply, gathering the courage to step outside of the room. You quickly put on deodorant, and step out stealthily, taking a seat next to Namjoon on the couch. No one seems to notice you, and you tap on his shoulder. Namjoon whips his head towards you, the confusion on his face melting into fondness. 

“Hi,” you squeak out, fiddling with your fingers. 

“Hi Y/N,” Namjoon greets, the kindness laced in his voice assuaging the trepidation bubbling on your inside. Jungkook’s red lava lamp  illuminates the room with shades of crimson, and your eyes flutter shut when a ray of light shines on your face. 

“Are you okay?” Namjoon inquires, holding his hand up to shield you from the light.  

“Yea, I’m fine,” you blink a few times. You don’t say anything, just awkwardly take a bite of your pizza while your eyes dart around the room. 

Namjoon doesn’t seem to know what to say to you either, so the two of you just sit and eat pizza in silence. For a moment, your eyes lock. You owlishly blink at him and he blinks at you for a good minute.  

But then, to your surprise, Namjoon sets his pizza down, opening his arms. Your features scrunch up, and you let yourself melt into his warm embrace, glossy tears rolling down your face. 

“I’m so sorry about what happened,” he expresses, gently caressing the back of your head with his palm. You sniffle. “t’s okay,” you sob, “but I’m so sad. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“You’ll get through this. We’re always here for you.”

His words invoke a tornado of intense feelings in your system, and your strong facade crumbles as you become vulnerable in Jungkook’s friend’s embrace. By this point, everyone has noticed your presence, and suddenly the night becomes about you. 

After wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you find yourself sitting in between Jungkook and Namjoon in a “friendship circle”. It’s quite cute that these grown men still sit criss-cross applesauce in a circle, but you’re overjoyed that you’re welcome to the group. 

“I brought you a cake Y/N,” Taehyung announces, handing you a lunchbox cake. With your doe eye, you look towards him before opening the lid of the cake. A lunchbox cake with Snorlax’s face iced on the top.  “Jungkook mentioned that you really liked Pokemon, so I thought you’d find this cute,” he continues, slightly trailing off.  You’re Strong! Is what it reads, and you fall into pieces, your features crumpling up before you burst into tears. 

Jungkook laughs in fondness at the vulnerability of your reaction, wrapping a single arm around your frame. 

“Th-thank you,” you sniffle, offering Taehyung a crooked smile. “Can we eat it together? I don’t want to get f-fat.”

At that, a chorus of no’s echo through the room, and you giggle a bit. 

Your heart is incredibly full. Family. Friends. People who care about you. This is something your soul desires, something your soul needs. 

The night meets its unfortunate end, and you stand in front of Jungkook as you bid his friends goodbye. Before the boys walk away, you find your fingers clinging onto the hem of Jimin’s oversized shirt. Before he ventures off, he turns around and graces you with an endearing look of confusion. “What’s up?”

“Can I come with you?” you spout. 

“You want to sleep over at our place?” Jimin questions, gingerly scratching the back of his head. 

You shake your head steadily, “I just want to talk to you,” you clarify, gazing up at him shyly. Jimin’s eyes dart towards Jungkook’s for approval and Jungkook nods his head. “Go ahead. I’ll give you guys privacy,” he pinches your cheek affectionately before closing the door. You stand on your tiptoes, peeking through the window of the apartment to ensure that Jungkook isn’t eavesdropping. 

Jimin leans against the railings, observing you carefully. 

You tug on the hem of Jimin’s tee, urging him to follow you to the lobby of Jungkook’s apartment. He follows in your stead, not questioning you until your actions pause. You shift around uncomfortably for a bit, and you look up at him. Taking a deep breath, you find the courage to ask him the question that’s been lingering in the back of your mind. 

 “Do you think Jungkook and I could ever.. be a thing?” you finally question, shifting your weight between your feet, a crimson sheen sweeping over your cheeks. 

Jimin’s eyebrows pinch, and he repeatedly opens and closes his mouth, looking for the right words to say. “Like romantically?”

Your eyes cumbersomely drift towards the painting behind Jimin. “Y-yea. I really like him, and I want him to be my boyfriend- and I know he’s attracted to me but won’t act on his feelings because of his ethical qualms,” you stutter out, pursing your lips after seeing how Jimin’s face morphs into astonishment. 

“Well, I don’t think Jungkook is seeing anyone right now- but Y/N, if I’m going to be totally honest, I don’t think you and Jungkook being a romantic pair would be appropriate. I mean, he’s known you since you were a kid. Even if he does like you, I don’t think he would cross those boundaries.” he very gently explains, meticulously finding the correct wording to not hurt your feelings. 

You bite your lip bitterly, sinking into the realization of his assertion. “Yea, you’re right. I don’t know. I guess it’s just a stupid crush,” you dismiss your confession with a wave and offer Jimin a shy smile. 

Jimin pouts at your invalidation of your own feelings. “Don’t say that. I know you’ll find someone who cherishes and loves you. Someone you deserve,” he asserts. You smile at him, nodding before he ruffles your hair and leads you back up the stairs. 

Someone you love. 

Would you ever find it in yourself to love anybody that wasn’t him? Jungkook has successfully monopolized your heart, your soul, your very being. 

Ping!

-

Tonguing his cheek, Jungkook impatiently and abruptly brakes at a red light, accelerating rapidly when the light turns green. He changes from his casual clothes to a black sleeveless shirt, loose leather pants, and a beanie. Mingyu sits on the passenger seat, frantically typing on his laptop as Jungkook zooms down the highway at record pace. 

Breaking into a frat house to terrorize some dumb college kids definitely wasn’t a part of the plan tonight, but Jungkook was down for some last minute terrorism.

“So what are you gonna do? Threaten the kid? Call the cops?”Taehyung questions from the backseat, both hands gripping on the headrest of Mingyu and Jungkook’s seats. 

“Look, I’m really trying to not sound corny, but I’m going to torture him,” Jungkook enunciates, which evokes a few seconds of silence. 

“This bitch-”

“He’s lost his fucking mind,” Mingyu mumbles. 

Jungkook laughs to himself, amused by the comments of his friends. Jungkook is an intelligent, rational person. Normally, he wouldn’t take it this far but he deems it extremely necessary for this particular situation. 

“What the- now he’s creepily laughing to himself-”

“If we tell Y/N about this she’s going to be scared of you,” Mingyu abruptly comments, shooting Jungkook a pointed look. 

Jungkook pauses, seemingly deeply considering the utterance of his friend, toying with his lip ring for a while he finally makes a comment. “I won’t do anything bad. I’ll just intimidate him a little.”

His friends sigh, not pressing further on the matter because Mingyu and Taehyung were pissed off too. Instead, Mingyu rolls down the windows of the car, allowing the breeze of the cool night to consume the interior of the car. 

Jungkook considers this very night a milestone in your healing process. You isolated yourself in his apartment for two consecutive weeks, your grief severely limiting your social capacity and ability to normally interact with people. His friends were privy to your situation, purposely not coming to Jungkook’s home out of respect for you. But tonight, the color that reappeared in your aura overwhelmed his heart with joy.

While you were on the couch, talking to Namjoon about something, Jungkook got an alarming text from one of your friends- Yeonjun. Jungkook is cool with your friends, but not close enough to be sending private text messages, so his eyes brows pinch in concern when he sees the notification pop up from his phone. 

Mingyu’s eyes drifted towards Jungkook, who was noticeably brimming with indignation. Jungkook scoffed to himself, a macabre smirk on his lips before he laughed erratically at the message. He repeatedly wiped his face with his hand, chuckling in amusement. Jungkook discreetly passed his phone to Mingyu without a word, with Taehyung looking over his shoulder, both of them gasping at the message.

This whole time, you were oblivious to the scheme Jungkook was contriving and Jungkook intended to keep it that way. You were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, and Jungkook would cut his limbs off to lessen that burden. The indignation and resentment bubbling within him threatens to erupt because he’s so fucking pissed off. 

You’re everything to him, and the thought of you being violated makes him want to indulge in his violent impulses.  He can’t imagine how you would feel knowing that video spread around, and usually he would confide with you about these things but right now he needs to sweep this under the rug and make sure it never comes back up. 

Luckily, he and Mingyu both have degrees in computer engineering and know how to hack into technical infrastructures. 

Jungkook pulls up to the frat house, rolling the window down steadily before he rests his elbow on the ledge of the window. He sits there for a second, toying with his lip ring while his eyes bore into the interior of the house. He’s sure he looks creepy as hell- just staring into the house.

After a few minutes of waiting in silence, some guy arises from the house and approaches the car. 

Jungkook keeps his lips sealed until he’s close enough to perceive his features. 

“Uh is there something yall need?” the guy asks, innocently scratching the back of his head. 

“Yea,” Jungkook responds, voice firm and somewhat chilling, “Your name Josh?”

“Yea? What’s up-”

Jungkook kicks the door open, knocking Josh over until he’s rolled on the floor, clutching his leg as he shrieks in pain. 

“Oh shit, are we really doing this?” Taehyung mutters before joining Jungkook outside the car. 

Jungkook sits on top of Josh, continuously punching the shit out of him before he spits on the kid’s face. He uses a single hand to lift him by the collar, and violently pushes him against the car. “You mad Y/N rejected you? So you pulled that shit?” Jungkook menaces, his face centimeters away from Josh’s. 

Josh whimpers, crying- too horrified to coherently respond. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he pleads, tears and snot streaming down his ugly face. 

“Shut the fuck up!” Jungkook repeatedly bangs Josh against the car. “I’m gonna say this shit once and I’m not going to repeat myself,” he seethes, satisfied by the way Josh whimpers and nods his head pathetically. 

“You’re not shit. You’ll never ever be good enough for Y/N. You’re the same as the shit on the bottom of my shoe,” he breathes against Josh’s face, who whimpers and cries, “If I ever see you messing with Y/N ever again- I will ruin your whole life.”

Josh nods, unable to do anything else. 

“Got it?” Jungkook seethes, pushing Josh’s head against the car door.

“Got it!”

“Good. We’re going inside, and you guys are going to watch us go through all of your iClouds, and we’re going to delete every single copy of the video there is, alright?”

“Yes! Yes! That’s fine! I’m sorry!”

Jungkook scoffs in amusement at his despicable demeanor, before he throws Josh on the ground and enters the house. 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Mingyu mumbles, following Jungkook’s lead into the house.

-

You anxiously wait for Jungkook to return home, absentmindedly toying with the Switch to distract from the hysterical thoughts frantically racing through your mind. You’ve done everything you could to distract yourself, your restless heart aching to do something of substance.

 You’ve been isolating yourself from society for the past month simply because you can’t bring yourself to leave Jungkook’s home, as if it was your safe haven. 

You dread the moment you have to return to your home, memories of your family coming to mind. You’ve been trying to avoid thinking about everything, and you reckon that it’s time to process everything. There are aspects of grief that you find unfathomable- questions you have that make you want to throw up. 

What will happen to the home that holds the memories of your family within its walls? How will you assimilate back into society without your father, without your mother? You’re not confident that it will ever be the same, and your heart sinks into your stomach at the notion- but you have to be resilient; you have to face it. 

It feels worse to avoid the reality of your life than to face it head on. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the doorknob turning. 

“Jungkook!” The way you call his name is breathless, and his eyebrows pinch in concern when you pounce on him. Nonetheless, he allows you to nuzzle into his embrace and he soothingly rubs your back- like he always does. 

“Wasn’t gone that long,” Jungkook absentmindedly comments. 

“I know- just missed you. I’m sorry for being clingy,” you murmur, to which Jungkook shakes his head at the absurdity of your words. 

“Not at all. Stay here for as long as you want. I’ll take you with me wherever I go,” he adds, settling into the leather of his sofa. You shuffle after him like a cute little penguin, sitting your ass directly next to Jungkook despite the vacant empty space on your right side. 

“Then am I allowed to sit next to you?” 

Jungkook’s features crinkle up in amusement, nose scrunching as he laughs lightly at how cute you are. He pinches your cheek, “It’s one thousand dollars for every minute you’re within a five foot radius of me,” he comments, tone stoic and firm. 

He doesn’t have to look in your direction to visualize the way your pretty lips fall open, swatting at his bicep for his cruel words. “Jungkook, I don’t have that money! You know I only have 35 cents in my bank account!”

“Okay, then go sit over there,” Your eyes follow the trail of his pointed finger, the corner of the room. 

“Fine! You fucking asshole,” you mutter bitterly, jumping up from the couch and stomping away with a hmph, until Jungkook slyly wraps his hand around the circumference of your wrist and pulls you to him. You collapse onto the couch, your back against his chest, and your butt between his legs. 

He clings onto you, almost suffocating you with the way he wraps his arms around you, grabbing his elbows as he locks his arms over your head. “‘M just kidding- you know that. I can’t survive without my baby either, y’know?”

Your chest erupts with butterflies, and you hold onto his forearm with both of your hands. “I know.”

-

The next day, you return to school. Your professors were so empathetic and understanding to the nuance and confusion of your situation, allowing you to complete your coursework from the comfort of Jungkook’s home. 

Grief isn’t a linear process. Though you’ve found it in you to return to school, it’s the mundane and the typical that you’re becoming increasingly bothered by. 

No one in your Philosophy class is paying attention to this movie, clearly. You can tell by the lit up screens scattered within the clusters of students, and you aren’t diligent enough to not be one of those students, doodling flowers and Snorlax’s on your paper. 

For the second you do look up at the movie, your heart stops. It’s always the most mundane, irrelevant details that get to you. The scene barely occupies a minute and it makes your chest tighten in the worst way possible. 

The main character walks down the wedding aisle, her arm linked with her father’s. The haunting realization settles in your system- you will never ever experience that. You begin hyperventilating, your hand crumpling the paper, and you quickly rest your forearms on the table before shoving your face into your forearms. People are already looking at you and you can’t fathom the humiliation so you stay like that until class is dismissed. 

You finally lift your head, rubbing your eyes to adjust the blinding ceiling lights. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

You shriek at the unexpected voice and whip your head to the left. 

“Hey hey hey- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he breathes out, rolling his chair towards you before rolling back so as to not scare you further. 

“No no, you’re good,” you breathe out, inhaling and exhaling to bring you down from your petrified high. “Just having a shitty day,” you explain, sweeping away the hair dried to your face by your tears. 

He seems to be unable to conjure a proper response, peering at you with an empty gaze and you sink in your seat, feeling the need to further explain yourself. “Well there was that part in the movie where Emma got married, and that made me feel horrible because I recently lost my dad.. And my mom.”

“Wait, I’m sorry. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he articulates, “I just noticed you  haven’t been in class for a while and was kinda worried when I saw you crying. I’m sorry if I pushed your boundaries.”

“You know me?”

His lips tug up in embarrassment as he gingerly scratches the back of his neck. “Well we usually sit next to each other so I thought we formed an acquaintanceship or something,” he mumbles. 

“Oh I’m sorry,” you pout at him, “I usually tap out during class so I never noticed you. What’s your name by the way?” You shyly stick out your hand, and he gives you a straight lined smile before shaking your hand gently. 

“Sunghoon. I-I’m really sorry for your loss by the way,” he adds, and you find his nervousness quite endearing. You shyly smile at him, and he gazes back at you with similar amity. He ever so softly pulls your wrist towards his and scribbles his number onto your forearm. “Feel free to text me if you ever need help with homework. You missed a lot of school,” he offers, and you find yourself giggling at his forth forwardness. 

“Thanks Sunghoon."

-

When  Jungkook returns from work that night, the first thing he’s met with is you shoving your boots on, seemingly ready for a vivacious night out. Your figure is adorned with a white satin slip on dress, and your hair is put up in an elegant updo. Jungkook pauses, eyes settling on your figure before scanning up to your face; he thinks this is the first time he’s seen you with makeup on since he wiped away the mascara running down your cheeks the day he broke the news.

“Hey daddy,” you purr, “Where have you been? The kids have been waiting for you,” you giggle, sliding your mini purse down your arm. 

Jungkook narrows his eyes at you, humorously scoffing at your corny choice of words. 

You giggle, skipping towards him before jumping onto him, latching around his neck before you whisper in his ear. “‘m going out with my friends, don’t wait for me to get home because I might stay the night with Yunjin.”

Jungkook stiffens, remaining frozen while you back up from him. 

“So, do I look like an angel, or what?”

“Always look cute,” because despite the infesting irritation bubbling in his system, he would never not tell you how it is. You are cute, always cute, always like an angel. 

“Thanks,” you giggle, skipping towards the door but before you can skip past him, he latches onto your wrist. “Wait.”

You tilt your head, slightly confused. “I bought something for you.”

He digs in his backpack and pulls it out. Nipple pasties. “You never wear a bra, so I thought you’d be safer if you put these on before you go out.”

“You were the one who said I had small tits!”

“Okay, well you still have nipples- so at least put these on to keep you safe.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but he doesn’t back down. You snatch the pasties from his hand and march into the bathroom. “Fine!” 

Jungkook lounges on the couch, eyes trained on you before you bid him goodbye and skip out of his apartment. He inhales deeply to settle the erratic palpitations in his chest. He needs to stop being so protective of you. 

-

Your arms linked with Yunjin, you skip around from one club to the next, dancing and partying your little hearts out. When the night comes to a close you prance to the local ramen shop around your campus. From a distance, you can already make out Jungkook casually speaking with his friends. He’s always so animated when he’s with his friends, dramatically gesturing and hip thrusting in the air while his friends laugh at his immature jokes. He’s got a cigarette between his pointer and middle finger, taking slow puffs, allowing the smoke to fill his lungs before he tilts his head to exhale a long plume of smoke into the atmosphere. 

That’s right. Jungkook smokes occasionally but never lets you do it. What a hypocrite. 

His eyes drift off for a second until they land on you, and his lips curl up in your presence. 

“Well look, if it isn’t my favorite girl,” he teases, letting out low laughter at the way you crimson when all his friends’ heads whip in your direction. 

You narrow your eyes at him, giving him a dirty look that Jungkook cooes at. Even when you were trying to intimidate him you akin to a cute Snorlax, so adorable, eyebrows pinched and lips pouted- how could he feel anything but adoration at that? 

“Aw angel,” he jests, throwing your words right back at you, “Don’t ignore me, ‘m sorry for teasing you,” he catches you as you walk past him, pulling you towards his chest before resting his chin on top of your head. 

He casually smiles at Yunjin. “How’s my angel been doing? Has she been behaving?”

Yunjin’s jaw drops at the bold statement and you attempt to wrestle out of his firm embrace to berate him. 

Just kidding. It’s getting late, though. Do you girls need a ride home?” he asks, finally letting you go just for you to stumble out of his grip and almost land on your face, but luckily Jungkook pulls your shoulders back without even looking in your direction. 

“Jungkook, it’s literally 10,” you deadpan. 

“Oh c’mon, I don’t want you girls to get kidnapped or something,” he snarkily responds. 

“How about you give us some money instead?” Yunjin jests, clearly joking, but Jungkook takes it so, so seriously. He raises a brow at both of you. “How much do you need?”

“Wait no- I was kidding,” Yunjin quickly clarifies, her ears becoming slightly red, “you don’t have to..”

Jungkook looks from you to her, then back at you before whipping out his phone, taking another puff of his cigarette before blowing the smoke upwards, careful so you don’t inhale any smoke.

Ping!

Your eyebrows pinch in confusion when you get a notification, and you unzip your mini purse to grab your phone, allowing the screenlight to illuminate your pretty features.  

JEON JUNGKOOK HAS TRANSFERRED YOU 500 DOLLARS VIA HYBETRANSFER.

“250 each, alright?” Jungkook laughs, taking another puff of his cigarette before he saunters off, his friends pushing him around and teasing him. 

“Ayo, when did Jeon turn into a sugar daddy?”

You and Yunjin are left dumbfounded, even more so when Jungkook turns around and makes kissy lips at you. 

You fall to your knees. 

-

The next morning is the weekend.

You absentmindedly chomp on your cereal, eyes still crusty and mind still hazy from the morning daze. Jungkook arises from his bedroom, hair still messy and sticking out in various directions- but he still looks as handsome as ever, the tired and morning glow suiting him wondrously. 

“So, I’m planning a trip with my friends at the beach. We’ll stay in an AirBnb. You wanna come with?”

You pause, features crinkling up in confusion. “Which friends? The ones from last night or Mingyu and them?”

“Mingyu, Tae, Jimin, Namjoon,” he counts off, before shrugging, “I already planned to take you with me so it’s not like you have a choice anyways.”

You scoff to yourself in amusement. “Aren’t you being too forceful?”

Jungkook narrows his eyes and graces you with a look of skepticism. “So you don’t want to go? or..”

“No!” you rapidly interject as you shoot up, clearing your throat and regaining your composure at the way Jungkook smirks at you. 

You settle back into your seat. “I do want to go,” you exhale, “but do I have to pay for my own room or something? I’m broke.”

“Oh, I was just gonna have you stay in my room,” Jungkook responds, trailing off as he tries to detect any trace of apprehension on your features, “Is that alright with you?”

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until you breathlessly exhale. “That’s perfect.”

So that’s how you found yourself at the beach, in nothing but your black bikini, prancing around the waves with Taehyung.

“Jungkook watch!” you call as you swivel around towards Jungkook, who’s applying sunscreen to his legs, not really paying attention to what you were doing. 

You stand in front of the upcoming wave, holding your arms out as if you were going to embrace the wave. “I’m going to stand against the wave!”

At that, Jungkook whips his head upwards, eyebrows pinching in worry as he shoots up. “Tae! Get her! She’s gonna get swept in by-“

And on cue, the wave collapses over you and you tumble into the unwelcoming water. “Motherfuck-“ You thrash and scream, powerless against the unforgiving currents until a pair strong arms pull you from your armpits and drags you to the sand.

“Holy shit Y/N, are you alright?” Taehyung asks, crouching beside you as he pats your back, allowing you to cough the water up.

“Y/N that was so dumb,” you hear Jungkook’s voice as he approaches you, crouching beside you as he hands you his black steel water bottle. “Take a sip,” he urges, and you nod shakily, grasping the bottle with both hands before you take a sip from it.

“I’m okay. Thanks for saving me Taehyung,” you smile at him and he releases a sigh of relief. “You scared the shit out of us!”

You gulp down the water and close the cap, returning his bottle to him. “Sorry, I won’t do that again, but can we get back to playing now?” you smile as you playfully fling a ball of wet sand at Jungkook.

Jungkook closes his eyes on impact, scoffing in amusement before he grabs you by your legs, signalling  Taehyung to grab your arms before they both lift you and run into the ocean.

-

Jungkook waits outside your shared room, knuckles softly knocking on the wooden door. A towel loosely wrapped around his lower waist, water drips from every crevice on his body, but he can’t enter until you’re done changing.

“Oki! I’m done!” you call out, opening the door for him, a towel in your hand as you use it to scrunch up your damp hair. 

“Wow. You’re really muscular,” you giggle, fingers hovering over his abs before you look up at him for approval to feel, to which he gently pushes your head aside and waltzes into the room.

When he’s done changing he beckons you back to the room, and you plop in the king sized bed, belly down and legs swinging back and forth in the air. 

Jungkook lies down beside you, resting his head on the pillow as he scrolls aimlessly on his phone, only looking over when he hears your ringtone go off.

You answer the call almost immediately.

“Oh hey Sunghoon!” you greet, shooting up from the bed to touch up your appearance in the facetime camera.

Sunghoon. Jungkook knows all your friends and he hasn’t heard that name before.

“Hey Y/N, how’s your vacation going?” Sunghoon asks, and you take a seat at the desk, propping your phone up against the wall. You twirl an idle piece of hair around your fingers. “It’s really fun here, I feel great,” you explain, “so what’s up?”

“You look like you’re having fun- wait, is there someone in the room with you?”

You rapidly turn around and look at Jungkook, then tilt your phone at an angle where he isn’t visible. “Oh, he’s just a family friend, do you want me to go somewhere more private?”

“Oh no that’s cool, I was just wondering but I called to ask you about the homework…”

A family friend? Jungkook scowls at that. Wordlessly, he breezes past you and exits the room, closing the door and sits next to Jimin on the couch. 

Jimin takes a few moments to acknowledge Jungkook’s presence. “Hey, is there anything going on between you and Y/N?” Jimin finally asks, eyebrows furrowing in concern when he perceives Jungkook’s sour face. 

Jungkook pauses. “Why are you asking?”

Jimin shrugs. “I don’t know. Don’t you know she has a crush on you? Isn’t it inappropriate for you two to be sharing a room?” Jimin continues, nudging Jungkook with his elbow. 

At that, Jungkook buries his face into his palms. He’s let this go on for far too long. “I know,” Jungkook murmurs, voice projection muffled by his hands. 

“You know? The other day she asked me if it was possible between you two and I straight up told her that you wouldn’t go for it.”

Jungkook remains wordless at that, and he thinks he’s developed an idea of the reality of the situation. 

Jungkook was too scared to address the subject with you; he let it linger for far too long. He didn’t want to burden you with anything else besides what you already had on your plate, and you got in your head about it. He never explicitly stated that he more than reciprocates your feelings, leaving you dangling on a string. 

He’s going to fix that. 

“No Jimin, that’s not it,” Jungkook clarifies, wiping his face with his palms. “I like her too, and I’m going to tell her tonight,” he states firmly, slightly craning his head to gauge Jimin’s reaction. His reaction isn’t what Jungkook expected. Instead of a look of concern, worry, or horror, Jimin looks over the moon. 

“Well shit! I wish I knew that before! You guys look perfect together!” he exclaims before eagerly patting Jungkook on the back. 

Jungkook raises his eyebrows at his friend. “Really? Don't you think I should wait a little longer? Until she's ready?”, to which Jimin simply shakes his head.

“Y/N's an adult. She can handle herself. I thought you wouldn't go for it because of the age gap, though. I guess I shouldn't have told her that," he says gingerly, scratching the back of his head. ”Sorry Kook."

Jungkook doesn't say anything, seemingly in deep contemplation. "It used to bother me,” Jungkook clarifies, "but it doesn't anymore."

“So what’s wrong with it?"

That’s right. There is nothing wrong with it.

-

A cool night on the beach. You feel the cool breeze through your air, the lunar radiance of the moon illuminating the beach. You’re adorned in a lovely, summer-esque two piece set with floral patterns running along the fabric, The top piece is cropped and strapless, exposing your collar bones and belly button piercing, and the bottom piece is a long, flowy skirt that blows marvelously against the wind. 

You gingerly step outside the beach house, enjoying the cool sensation of the night breeze. The guys are all hanging out in the yard, soju bottles and beer cans scattered on the wooden benches positioned on the beach. Namjoon and Jimin are posted up on the benches, chowing down on meat whilst engaging in pretty animated conversation. You spot Mingyu and Taehyung running around the beach, slapping each other and chasing after each other, their dirty heels slipping against the coarse sand. 

Jungkook is stationed at the grill, frying meat for his friends. His tall and built figure is concealed by his loose black T-shirt and black sweat shorts that you have worn a few times during your extended stay at his place. 

You creep up behind him, swiping away the stray hairs that the wind blew into your face. Tapping him lightly on the back, you coyly skmile at him, a bashful glow illuminating your face. 

Jungkook sensed your presence the moment stepped foot from the house, but still acts like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you. He does a double take, eyes scanning up and down your face and body- you look so lovely and elegant in your little two piece set. “Hey,” Jungkook finally returns your greeting, a little breathless. 

“Can I have some?” you ask, pointing to the grill. 

“Uh yea, I actually made a plate for you a second ago,” Jungkook takes the prepared plate of your favorite meats, but pauses before he hands it to you. He hasn’t a clue if you’re doing this on purpose, but you’re looking at him with the sultriest of eyes, and it drives him crazy. His Adam’s Apple bobs in his throat, and he collects himself before handing you the plate. 

You tilt your head, sending him a look of confusion at his hesitance, but Jungkook sees it as a gateway to talk to you. “Y/N, can we talk? Like now?” Jungkook asks, rubbing at the nape of his neck. 

“Sure, what about?” you solicit, setting the plate on the table.

Jungkook immediately shoves his hands in his pockets, and motions his head towards the beach, obliging you to follow him. “About what you told me at your house..” he trails off, “that one time in the middle of the night,” he adds. 

He perceives the way your features morph into embarrassment, so he decides to take the lead on this conversation. He approaches you, standing beside you momentarily before smoothly lacing his fingers through yours. “Let’s go.”

Unable to conjure a proper response, you follow his footsteps in silence until your bodies appear as distant figures by the ocean. With your toes kissing the water washing up on shore, he turns back to look at you, fingers still intertwined. But you stop him before he can open his mouth. 

“Wait- Jungkook. Let me explain myself first,” you begin, thankful that the night sky conceals the obvious bashful glow on your cheeks. 

Jungkook who is seemingly expressionless nods his head, signaling you to let your words out. 

You gently pull your hand from his, twiddling with your fingers before you can speak. “Firstly, I just wanna apologize.. to you,” you begin, ignoring the way his nose scrunches in confusion, “I feel like you’ve been so good to me- you always take care of me. Your family is the only family I have left,” you continue, bashfully tucking an idle strand of hair behind your ear. 

“So I’m sorry for forcing myself on you, and I’m sorry for mistaking your care towards me as romantic affection,” you continue, subconsciously gesticulating with your hands. “I know you said you don’t like it when girls are clingy but I’ve been nothing but clingy, and you still take care of me and care about me.” Your words are passionate, and they’re true. “Everyone told me that a relationship with you would be inappropriate.. but I was too persistent and too selfish. I’m so sorry Kook. You must’ve been so shocked when I yelled at you and when I.. opened that shower curtain,” you finish, shaking your head in embarrassment. 

When you finally complete the sentiment, you tilt your head upwards to gauge his reaction. His eyebrows pinch in confusion, and his mouth is slightly agape. “What?” he asks breathlessly, eyebrows pinching even further. He runs a tired hand over his face. “Y/N- just- I can’t believe you said that. Y/N, I love you. And I don’t care if you’re clingy, and I don’t care what anybody else thinks of us.”

You gasp at his words, a profound sense of emotion absolutely overwhelming you.

“What I care about is what you think of me, and whether you’re happy,” His fingers find yours, and he holds your hand and looks right into your eyes to properly convey his sincerity. “Y/N, I’m so sorry for not telling you sooner. You were just going through so much shit and I didn’t know if you were in the right headspace or if you were even serious about how you felt for me-”

He stops when you yank your hands away from him, using the back of your hands to wipe the tears streaming down your face. The shapes of his eyes turn into little crescents, petrified at your reactions. He removes your hands from your face, holding your wrists. 

“Y/N, don’t cry. Please say something.”

“Jungkook, it’s too late. I-I don’t think I can do this- with you- I mean,” is all you’re able to say and Jungkook’s chest tightens impossibly.

His heart drops to your stomach, a crestfallen expression morphing onto his handsome features. “I-is that how you really feel?”

Another tear streams down your face and Jungkook itches to wipe it but suppresses that urge.

“I love you Jungkook. I do. I really do!” you cry out, “But I can’t date you, ever. I never want to lose you,” you sob between sniffles. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m sure of it!”

The situation is bitterly ironic. Jungkook spent months tiptoeing around his feelings, your feelings, because he wanted to ensure he was what you wanted. Even when you blatantly threw yourself at him, he made the conscious decision to not pursue you. He spent months deciding your feelings for you- and now you’re telling him you don’t want him and he can’t do anything but accept it. 

“Y/N, you’ll never lose me. I’ll always be here. Even if you change your mind.. I’ll always be here.”

“Jungkook, I lost my whole family. You’re all I have left,” you explain, trailing off a little bit, “If I lose you then I have nobody.”

“No, I swear- Y/N, you’re it for me, and I mean it.”

You sniffle, wiping your cheeks, eyes, and nose once more. “What- hiccup- does that mean?”

“It means… whatever you want it to mean,” he concludes. 

“Jungkook…” you trail off, “Don’t wait for me. If you find a girl you like, then you should go for her. All I want is for you to be happy. It’s what you deserve,” you offer him a soft smile, a direct juxtaposition to your tear stained cheeks.

His chest tightens at that and he shakes his head. “You’ll always be my priority. Me? I’ve dated enough girls, I can be single for the rest of my life.”

You immediately swat his chest at the sentiment. “No, Jungkook. You should be with someone who takes care of you, not someone you have to take care of all the time. I’ll just always be your family friend who had a stupid crush on you in college.” Your attempt to lighten the atmosphere is futile and makes Jungkook’s scowl deepen. 

“You’re more than that to me. You’ll always be.” His hand latches onto yours, and you pull yourself from him. 

“No Jungkook.. I’ve made up my mind. I really don’t think we could ever…” When your voice breaks and more tears accumulate in your waterline, Jungkook stops you, not wanting to cause you any more pain. 

“I got it, Y/N. But just know I’ll always be here… in any way you’ll take me.”

READ PART 2 HERE

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[thesightstoshowyou]

Shoot for the Moon

Bo Sinclair X GN Reader

Warnings: None. Just fluff. Who am I?

~~

Keys jingle as you cut the engine. The thrum ceases and a moment of tranquil silence passes before the nighttime sounds rise to life all around. Crickets and frogs chirp, night herons splash, a barred owl calls. Cypress, oak, and maple trees creak and rustle in a gentle breeze. Car door hinges squeal as you slip from your vehicle and your boots swish in tall grasses as you make your way to the trunk.

Carefully, you unpack the telescope, flashlight, guides, and notepads. The scents of damp earth and decaying wood wash over you as you move. Already, the oppressive Louisiana humidity sticks your hair to your forehead, yet you wear a jacket and jeans to protect your limbs from mosquitos and ticks.

Satisfied with a small, nearby clearing, you meticulously set up your equipment. You peek through the eye piece and adjust the telescope’s position incrementally. Little flashlight clutched between your teeth, you scratch notes on the illuminated portion of paper before repeating the process.

An hour or so in, you abruptly surface from the lull of peaceful concentration. At first, you’re not certain what distracts you, but then you recognize the silence. All the wildlife has gone quiet, disturbed by something close by.

You frown and quiet your own breath, tilting your head to listen intently. To your left, a sharp snap; twigs underfoot. Something stalks through the brush, just out of sight.

A bear, maybe, or a stray dog. Your mind whirs with the possibilities, but you will yourself to stay calm. Nothing you can’t handle.

However, when a man emerges from the tree line, your heart stutters. Fear and confusion take root in your brain and you must consciously fight back the panic to keep your thoughts clear.

Where the hell had he come from? There isn’t a town or house around for miles, as far as you’re aware. You’d carefully chosen this particular spot for that very reason.

The man saunters toward you, hands buried in the pockets of the deep blue coveralls he wears. His pace is leisurely, every step measured and deliberate, meant to instill dread. You can’t make out the details of his face through the gloom and the cap perched atop his head does you no favors.

“Yer out here awfully late,” he notes, the pleasant drawl of his voice disturbing the hush of the clearing. He nods toward the crescent moon hanging low in the sky as though you need his help to tell it’s nighttime.

“Could say the same about you,” you respond, slipping the flashlight into your palm. You could blind him if he gets too close.

He stops his advance about twenty feet away, head tilting slightly as he studies you and your equipment. “Folks out this late don’t often have the best intentions.”

Pot, meet kettle. You resist the urge to call him out and instead motion to your telescope. “Just star gazing. I wasn’t aware this was private property. I’ll go—

“Nah, s’not private. Yer good, sugar.” He takes a few steps closer. The muscles in your shoulders tense. You swallow thickly, mind racing. What now?

You speak before you can stop yourself, “I, uh, I just found Saturn. It’s nice and clear tonight. Wanna see?” The man stops abruptly, obviously taken aback. He’s silent for a moment, contemplating.

“…Yer serious?” he questions. His steps are tentative now, cautious. You caught him off guard, it seems.

Roll with it. “Yeah!” You wave him over and allow the excitement to take control of your vocal cords, “And the Milky Way is so pretty right now. We can look at that next….”

He’s close enough now that you can make out the incredulous expression on his face…his very handsome face. The scents of engine oil, burnt grease, and metal hit you and the outfit suddenly makes sense. Still, you question why he’s out for a midnight stroll in such a remote area wearing his work garb.

You scoot out of the way and instruct him to look through the eye piece. He shoots you one more skeptical glance before carefully leaning over and peering into the telescope. You smell him now too: Cigarette smoke, faint aftershave, and woody musk that is not at all unpleasant.

You watch the exact moment the man spots the planet. What you can see of his face lights up and he shifts his body in toward the telescope, hunching more to get a better angle through the eyepiece. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmurs, hand coming up and hovering over the finderscope, hesitant to touch. You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face.

“So beautiful, right? Do you see the rings?”

“Sure do,” he replies, straightening and flashing you a hesitant, crooked smile. Your thoughts are almost derailed by the charm of it, but the eagerness to teach keeps you grounded.

“Here, scooch over a sec, lemme just readjust it….” You quickly check your notes then fiddle with the telescope. You’re overly aware of the man standing next to you, but he surprises you with polite silence, hands on his hips, apparently content to watch you work.

“Here, look,” you excitedly tell him as soon as it’s adjusted. With a quizzical expression, he leans down again, though there’s more enthusiasm in his movement this time.

“…What am I lookin’ at?” he asks, glancing over at you expectantly.

You giggle and mutter a quick, “Oh right,” before launching into an explanation. You gesture and describe, the animation in your voice and knowledge on the subject captivating the stranger.

He watches you speak with a mixture of admiration and bemusement on his face, like he can’t believe he’s listening so attentively, but doesn’t want to miss a word. All previous tension evaporates as you show him the charts you’ve drawn and move the telescope to and fro.

“Oh, and you should be able to see Phobos right now—

“What’s yer name, darlin’?” the man interrupts suddenly. You glance up at him and realize just how close he stands. Your shoulder brushes his chest, his body heat palpable. You’re glad for the darkness when your cheeks burn.

You do your best not to trip over your own name when he smirks, sudden shyness drying your throat and making your heart skip a beat. There’s irritation there too, annoyance with his smugness. You’re easier to read than you’d hoped, apparently.

“Bo,” he tells you as he holds out his hand. You turn to face him and accept his outstretched palm. It is then you notice your watch.

“Oh christ, it’s late. I really gotta go!”Hurriedly, you gather up your notes and pack away your equipment. Bo watches quietly and you can tell by the way he stands so stock still that he’s contemplating something.

You don’t give him a chance to decide on whatever it was he was planning when he entered the clearing.

“I, uh…I was gonna come back on Thursday if, you know, if you wanted to learn more.” Bo blinks at you, genuine surprise on his face. You’re just as shocked by your own words. Offering to meet a strange man with questionable intentions, alone, in the middle of rural Louisiana to teach him amateur astronomy?

Have you lost your damn mind?

Yet, the way he’d engaged with the subject and how eagerly he listened makes you think there’s something more to this man. The initial trajectory of your meeting had changed, hadn’t it? There was a spark, a yearning for connection. He wants to learn, and you want to teach.

That, or you’re completely delusional.

“Next Thursday?” You nod at his question. He tips his head again, like he’s thinking. Slipping his hands back into his pockets, he shrugs. “I can try and make it.”

**

He does make it on Thursday. You do too. And again on Saturday. And the following Friday. And Monday.

Sunday finds you seated on a blanket, Bo at your side, flashlight in your mouth and pen in had. Around you, the nighttime creatures sing their songs. Your trusty telescope points to the sky, ready to capture the comet you’re tracking.

You’re relaxed in his presence now. You’ve decided to attribute your initial meeting to simple chance. He hasn’t given you a reason not to trust him, and you’re not going to look for one.

Your name murmured in a hushed and careful tone breaks your reverie. You hum in response before lowering the flashlight and glancing up. The look in Bo’s baby blues freezes you in place and brings heat to your cheeks.

He’s closer than you anticipated. He removed his hat at some point and his dark hair is ruffled like he hastily ran his fingers through it. That self-satisfied smirk you tell yourself you hate pulls at the side of his mouth and there’s warmth in his eyes as they trace the curve of your lips.

“Been tryin’ t’kiss ya for the past ten minutes,” he teases, his hand reaching out to playfully flick the pen in your hand. You release a breathy laugh as your heart flutters in your chest like a trapped bird.

“Oh, um…s-sorry,” is all you can manage, mouth curving in a weak smile. Your teeth worry your bottom lip when Bo slides closer to cradle your face in his palms.

“Looks like I finally get t’teach ya somethin’ huh?” he jokes, lips ghosting across yours.

You huff, “Oh shut up,” but there’s no real bite to your words. Bo chuckles affectionately and smoothes his thumbs over your hair.

His next words are soft, the vulnerability in them meant only for your ears. “You been real sweet, darlin’. Ain’t nobody taught me anythin’ like you.”

“Oh,” you breathe, moved by his admission. The gratitude in it warms you deep in your chest. Bo wrinkles his nose.

“Alright, enough a’ that. Turnin’ me into a fuckin’ sap.” Your next scoff and eye roll is cut off when he finally claims your mouth in a searing kiss.

Overhead, stars twinkle, your silent spectators.

[wildlife4life]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @exhuastedpigeon @spotsandsocks @devirnis @lover-of-mine @theotherbuckley @jesuisici33 and @daffi-990 Thank you! You are all so amazing and I can't wait for all your upcoming works!

Alrighty ya'll, I am super tired, and I literally just threw this snippet together, but it is part of the noted NFL Buck plan. Here is some more Buck perspective before coming to LA. (Everything NFL Buck can be found here!)

Somehow, he and Eddie went almost eight months without having the whole Buck not being out in public discussion. There had been some tossed away comments, 'I'm just your dirty little secret.' and 'What would the fans think if they knew pretty boy Buckley liked to suck cock?' and even 'Apparently you're the schools most eligible bachelor. If they only knew.' But no actual conversations. To Buck it was a hypocritical unspoken agreement between, him, Eddie, and the handful of people who did know. Let the world see Evan Buckley as the handsome, college football star, bachelor who isn't looking for true commitment with a woman at the moment. Once the door to it all is closed, he is Buck, bi-sexual college student who was deeply in love with a single father paramedic with the most amazing kid. The very man, who used to be so very deep in the closet and was still working through his well ingrained internalized homophobia, that Buck called him out on all those months. Buck shouted and cried and spewed out every part of his heartbreak. Each lash of pain he felt when Eddie failed to hide his disgust and panic at Buck's physical affection. The misery he pushed away each time the paramedic hesitated to return it. All the extra weight he took in his heart for Eddie because Buck could see how the ex-solider tore himself up by being with him while the internal voices of his upbringing raged within him about the wrongness of it. Then with one last ragged breath, Buck ended their lopsided two month relationship that was hurting them both. The break up was less than 24 hours, but Eddie came back with the commitment to be with Buck and to be better. Six months later and there Eddie was, still with the college quarterback, sharing his son and his life with him, and making an effort every day to be proud openly gay man. Eddie was being better. And yet, Eddie never once called Buck out on his unwillingness to be out himself or the effort the younger man puts into keeping their relationship a secret. It had Buck twisted in immense guilt and anxiety. He just kept waiting for the day Eddie would project all his own heartache and anger at Buck for being a hypocritical asshole. So far it hasn't happened and Buck spiraled further each day it didn't. Eventually, he broke, Buck always did when all the remorse and nerves became too heavy. He just wished the dam of emotional turmoil didn't burst while Eddie's mouth was inches away from Buck's half hard cock. And he really wished the end of his internal spiral didn't present itself with the statement, "I hate this."

Getting the mindset of a man who isn't closeted to those he trusts, but needs to be to the rest of the world. This will also be the set up into the agreement of their secret relationship that's been brought up in the past. Hope you all enjoyed!

Tagging (no pressure): @bekkachaos @diazsdimples @thewolvesof1998 @giddyupbuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @hippolotamus @disasterbuckdiaz @wikiangela @rainbow-nerdss @spaceprincessem @fortheloveofbuddie @athenagranted @eddiescowboy @evanbegins @elvensorceress @malewifediaz @911onabc @911-on-abc @loserdiaz @hoodie-buck @try-set-me-on-fire @ladydorian05 @bigfootsmom @watchyourbuck @thekristen999 @shortsighted-owl @spagheddiediaz @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @eowon @princessfbi @honestlydarkprincess @vampbuckley @bitchfacediaz @buck-coded @housewifebuck @glorious-spoon @buddierights @prosperdemeter2 @gayedmundodiaz @lemonzestywrites

[haruchifuyu]

RATING TR OFFICIAL ARTS BC WHY NOT

Bandage edition

(minor manga spoilers on shinichiro’s part!!)

#1 top fit. No this is not biased. Ate and left no crumbs THE LACE?? THE ORCHIDS? BUTTERFLIES?? THE SPIDER WEB?? Also correct me if im wrong but the inside looks like their tattoo? Or at least very similar. Hes so pretty and slutty i love my wife sm 8.5/10, -.5 bc i wanted to see him w painted nails, -1 for the newest official art w the dogs out bc it genuinely took 10 years off my lifespan

#2 okay honestly,, i had such a hard time deciding whether izana or haru should be in 2nd place bc both their outfits fucked. But the peacock feathers? Beautiful. The coordination between the shoes and the top of the jacket? On par. He would totally paint his nails black. I also love the yin and yang like how they had on the tenjiku uniforms. Especially how its the little dot on the peacock feather its so extra. 9/10, -1 for the bandages i know ur not well sweetie but this is unnecessary

#3 WAIST ON THINNAAAAA god he is perfect. Love the water lilies AND THE FACT THAT ITS SEE THROUGH. He looks very classy and elegant and vibrant and pretty. Total 180 from his personality teehee i love him. Dont talk to me if its not gonna be abt how he absolutely dominated this look. 9/10, -1 edward scissor hands

#4 pure fashion icon. I love the shoes sm i cant put it into words. Chunky modern clogs and he is the only one who could pull it off!! Love the owls too he looks so clean n fresh try spelling fashion w/o mitsuya. King. I WILL say tho i feel like it might look better w more flowy pants, BUT i think it still looks good w the pants he has on. Tbh 10/10 there is absolutely nothing wrong w this look

#5 LOVE LOVE LOVE the symbolism w the lilies and the dove. Shinichiro the og he definitely looks like hes abt to beat a homeless man to death. Not a fan of the shoes tho i feel like they just don’t go. I feel like if they were more like takemichis style in this oa it would look better. 9/10 -1 for the shoes

#6 Very similar to ran’s obv but i absolutely adore the shoes. Also in love w the bees so cute. Purple nails love to see it. So handsome please break my legs. My pookie fr. 9/10, -1 bc he looks like hes abt to bark at me

I would do more but i cant fit all of them on here so i mayyy do a second one w the rest of them lol

[sleepingcup]

Asking out for a date while your working

Characters: Aesop Carl, Eli Clark, Naib Subedar, Norton Campbell, Mike Morton x Reader (Separate)

Game: Identity V (Modern Au)

Genre: Fluff

Summary: You are the manager at a cafe that was recently popular for a pure reason, you recently received customers who you recognized since high-school and university.

Aesop Carl

As much of an introvert as he is, he went out of his comfort zone just to check on you, he is the rarest customer you can ever get.

You honestly appreciate that he was here to see you, just be patient with him. But you swore that you saw red on his ears despite he was trying to keep a straight face yet he is hiding a smile.

You made sure that your cooking made Aesop happy. Although he is a picky eater on what meals he chooses, if it’s you Aesop won’t mind. He’d honestly appreciate that you really know his taste preferences and food balances, he doesn’t want a heavy meal.

You rarely see him smile so seeing it was pretty successful for you. He evenly decided to ask you out on a date without any hesitation or stammering before paying and leaving.

But it seems that as much as you are dense you are in a daze when the staff tells you that the pretty boy Aesop is asking you out on a date.

That is something that you were not expecting.

And yet you said yes to his invitation.

Poor Aesop, he was trying to contain his heartbeat including his blushing face once he is at home.

But in the end, he is extra happy when you are willing to go on a date with him. Who knows, he would give you a kiss on the cheek?

Eli Clark

He often visits you every time he finishes his work, and the staff often teases you that Eli is your lover. Of course, they were joking since he was handsome to have a girlfriend, but, you were not expecting him to show up just to visit you.

He was genuinely excited to see you, so you decided to let him take his time to order before you cook the food for him.

Although most of the cooking was Eli talking to you about “How are you?” or “Are you doing well in this job?” Mostly Eli’s concern and gives you the energy that you didn’t ask for but actually needed it.

But he would go out of his way to ask you out once he manage to get the timing right, that alone made you blush once you realize that he wanted to ask you out on a date.

Of course you would have to get use the staff teasing you about going on a date with Eli, then again that is also something that you are pretty much looking forward to.

Although you would need to make sure that the shift is finished, but you can be thankful to know that Eli was waiting for you.

Plus he made sure that the date went well, he made sure that you are comfortable, less stress, and mostly happy and romantic.

As a bonus part of the date, his pet owl Brooke Rose loves to nuzzle her feathers to your head as a sign of affection. Which Eli was struggling to not cry of happiness at the adorable sight.

Poor Eli, he is trying not to resist the temptation of giving you a hug and a kiss.

Naib Subedar

He visits you from time to time, but he mostly visits you in the early morning since he prefers pure peaceful silence rest assured that he will protect you.

Not only that he secretly enjoys the food that you made for him, Naib made sure that you are comfortable with your job. There are times where he often passes by the cafe just to make sure that you are still safe from harm, which you would need to explain the staff that Naib is there to keep an eye on you.

Then again one of the staff pointed out that you and Naib should REALLY go out on a date, they do have a point but you were not sure if he would really obliged.

One day Naib decided to ask you out on a date since he was told by his friends to ask you on a date, of course the man doesn’t have a good ideas about dating so he would need to adapt to something new.

And if you are wondering, you did say yes of his invitation to the date.

But the idealistic date went from eating to a restaurant was a place to a quiet relax place, have a picnic, and have a nice conversation with Naib which it was pretty romantic when you also include holding hands and feeling butterflies.

But once the date was over, Naib was hoping that he would invite you more to dating with him.

Norton Campbell

Funny, unlike Aesop, Eli, Naib, and Mike. Norton is your co-worker.

His visits are rare but he visits you during the afternoon, pretty much when you already know that he was the supplier carrying the stuff for restocking the cafe.

But in his free times he went out of his way to see you from time to time in the break room. You and Norton really do have a nice conversation from time to time but not really closer enough. While you were focusing on your job you didn’t noticed that Norton was staring at you from time to time and yet he didn’t have the chance to say it when the timing was worse.

One day you were working at the counter taking care of the cash register, and Norton decided to be your assistant.

The staff was trying to tell Norton to ask you out on a date, and yet he face shows that he needs to be paid extra for that to happen.

Till…. YOU decided to ask him out on a date.

He was surprised and yet tried his best to hide his flustered face while avoiding the laughter from the staff, but luckily he said yes.

You may not-no you DID noticed that Norton was VERY happy that you ask him out on a date. As a result he gave your head a kiss. Plus at the end of the shift you and Norton really had a good date at the restaurant, movie, and a sleepover at the 

Just be aware that he can be playful in the date.

Mike Morton

Well, that is interesting, he is one of your regular customers who arrive JUST FOR THE FOOD YOU MADE FOR HIM.

He would like to talk to you from time to time, like it would be something that he won’t mind wasting his time just to hang out with you. Although when he comes to you, it was extra tips for you from him like he is asking you to return the favor even if you barely do anything.

That alone never stop him from going near you just to get closer, even if it would be a restriction but never to you, after all he DID help you out behind the scenes on getting the customer’s opinions.

To return the favor is asking him out on a date.

Do you have any idea that would make him even happier.

He is willing to look forward for the date you manage to ask him out for, so it was the movies, live show watchings, and having a good time window shopping. It was one of his expectations when he clearly wanted to hang out with you.

Just like Norton, he is playful and flirty but he is the mixture of both for at least 100% of the time during the date, but be mindful that he can get protective at all times. After all he doesn’t want someone taking you away from him.

And if you manage to give him a kiss as a bonus for his reward, he won’t really hesitate to give you hugs and kisses as well. Plus he did want more PDA sooo.....good luck with that.

But don’t worry, he made sure that you actually enjoy his company.

[imtrashraccoon]

This mans be giving me so many ideas. I love him so much!

Future Trash Edit: The awesome @teasworldstuff made some beautiful fanart for this chapter! Check it out here!

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Nightmare - Formal

Word Count: 1,561

You were standing in what was best described as a grand hall. The floor was covered in a red carpet and the curtains over the large windows were a darker shade of red. There was a fancy chandelier hanging from the very center of the ceiling, an elegant grand staircase, a long buffet table, and a wide open area at one side of the room that served as a dance floor.

Looking down, you quickly discovered that you were dressed in an outfit that was far from anything you'd ever imagined owning, let alone wearing. It was a floor length silver ball gown with sheer sleeves and plenty of tule. Frankly, it was gorgeous and you couldn't help but do a little twirl to see how pretty it really was. You also had sliver chain bracelets on both your wrists, a velvet black choker around your neck, and a pair of black heels.

Hearing soft footsteps, you looked up and saw Nightmare at the top of the grand staircase. He was also dressed formally, wearing a three piece plum coloured suit and expensive looking leather dress shoes. He was still wearing his gold moon circlet although he seemed to have some fancier gold rings this time, many of which were encrusted with brilliant precious stones. The four tentacles you'd noticed the first time you saw him were noticeably absent though.

He descended the stairs slowly, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. You couldn't help but feel entranced by how regal and elegant he was carrying himself. He looked like he could easily blend in with high society if he wanted to.

"Good evening, my dear," he said in that same velvety tone of voice once he'd reached the bottom of the stairs.

Your tongue felt heavy and for a moment you couldn't speak. You knew this was a dream but with how he'd just spoken to you and how beautiful this place was, you felt like you'd stepped into your favorite historical romance show. It didn't help that recently you'd realized you had a thing for oddly handsome skeletons.

Finally, you managed to clear your throat and find your voice again. Giving a bit of a curtsey, you smiled and greeted him in return. "Good evening..."

He smiled as he walked over, stopping a foot or so away, and offered his arm to you. His demeanor seemed almost genuine but you got the feeling that this was more of an act than anything on his part, albeit a very good one.

You hesitated for a moment but accepted his offer and linked your arm in his own. He began to guide you over to the dance floor and you followed willingly. This whole situation felt so bizarre though.

"Is the outfit to your liking?" he asked and glanced over at you. "You seem a bit tense, my dear."

You felt your cheeks grow warm from embarrassment and nodded. "Sorry, I just don't dress up often...and I'm not used to wearing anything this long." Not wanting to seem rude though, you quickly added, "I love the colour though."

He hummed softly and his cyan eyelight briefly flicked over your body before he looked away. "My apologies, I'll take that into consideration for next time."

You were left wondering what the extent of his knowledge was when it came to fancy clothing like this. You could picture him knowing quite a bit considering he seemed like the type to enjoy the finer things in life. Also, was he planning to do this again?

"Forgive me if this sounds too forward but I feel I would be remiss if I said nothing."

You looked over at Nightmare in a curious way.

"You are rather gorgeous, my dear. I imagine you must get quite a few compliments on your appearance, or am I wrong?" he continued to say.

You were certain your cheeks had turned a bright pink as a result of his comment and reflexively ducked your head out of embarrassment.

"No, at least none that are flattering..." you murmured. "A lot of men tend to catcall me or make other lewd comments."

He clicked his non-existent tongue in a disapproving manner. "That's a shame...they clearly don't deserve your time or attention, dear."

You didn't know what to say in response. He was right, but the comments still bothered you and it wasn't always as simple as ignoring them. Most guys that would subject you to those things were also the type to pursue you and not take no for an answer.

"Do you know how to dance?" Nightmare asked, changing the subject and bringing you out of your thoughts.

You shook your head, "Not really."

He tilted his skull and an amused expression flickered across his face. "It's fairly simple. I could show you how if you'd like?"

As he spoke, he started to guide you into a waltz and you followed to the best of your ability. Your heart was fluttering in your chest at how close you were to him and how magical this moment felt. Still, your movements were stiff in comparison to his effortless, smooth ones.

He seemed to notice how nervous you were and leaned closer to you. "Relax and try to enjoy yourself, my dear. It's only a dream afterall, so you might as well have fun, am I right?"

You nodded and took a deep breath to try and ease your nerves. It was only a dream. When would you ever get to experience something like this again? Sure, you were currently dancing with a god, but he really gave off those mysterious dark stranger vibes that you secretly loved reading about. So why not just forget everything you dealt with on a daily basis and enjoy this short moment?

You started to lose yourself in the motions as you both danced together. Well, that is until Nightmare suddenly stopped dancing and pulled you closer, holding your body against his own. His cyan eyelight stared deep into your eyes and for a moment, you thought you could see a brief glimpse of the power he held.

Not only had he crafted two gorgeous dreams so far but he was obviously capable of a lot more than that. He could have subjected you to actual nightmares instead but he wasn't. So why was he being so nice?

He released his hold on you as if nothing had happened and guided you over to a comfortable couch that you hadn't previously noticed. You gratefully sank into the plush cushions and took a deep breath to calm your beating heart. While dancing with him had been fun, you were feeling a bit faint from both how anxious you'd been and how close he'd been holding you. There was only do much your poor heart could take.

After a moment, Nightmare hummed in a thoughtful way. "May I ask what kind of formal outfit you would be most comfortable in?" he asked.

You tilted your head as you pondered his question. "I think either a knee length dress or a blouse and skirt combo. It's most similar to what I wear for work but I guess neither of those would quite fit this dream."

He nodded in agreement. "Would wearing something so similar like that remind you of your job and only serve to distract you?"

You blinked in surprise. You hadn't thought about that at all and now that you were, he was probably right.

Glancing over at him, you nodded slowly. "Probably... I don't like my job very much so it would be distracting."

"Then it's a good thing you can see what it's like in this dream, isn't it?" he commented.

"Yeah, I suppose so."

After a moment of silence, you fully turned to look at him. "Nightmare? Um, can I call you that or...?"

He nodded and motioned for you to continue speaking.

Feeling slightly bolder, you took a deep breath to steady your nerves. "I know from what the boys have told me that you aren't known for being nice without a reason. So, why did you create this dream? And why are you trying to get to know me like this?"

He smiled and gave you an amused look. His tone became quieter and even more gentle as he started to answer. "I mentioned this yesterday but in my eyes, you are clearly exceptional as far as humans are concerned. I'm just trying to figure out what exactly sets you apart from all the others."

When you frowned slightly, he added, "And I'm not referring to your Intent either. I want to see why you choose to act the way you do."

He lightly ran his phalanges over your cheek and tucked some of your hair behind your ear. "I'll see you soon, my dear..." he murmured as he went to stand up

The last thing you remembered was the way his permanent grin quirked up at the edges and how his good eye socket narrowed in a way that sent chills down your spine. Then, you were waking up in your bed once again with a fluttering feeling in your soul.

He seemed to have the ability to toy with your emotions... Why else would he know exactly what to do to tug at your heart strings? He was definitely dangerous...

[pega7sus]

Jealous (Professor Longbottom x Fem!Reader)

“Sorry? I didn’t quite catch what you said, Y/N/N.”

“I was jealous, Nev.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ WHEN Y/N overhears a few seventh-year girls giggling about the oh-so handsome Professor Longbottom, she can’t help but feel jealous.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Wife!Reader, Pureblood!Reader, mentions of blushing, fluff, jealousy, unedited writing, and that’s about it :)

I’m still kinda new to Tumblr, since I’m mostly on Wattpad (follow me on there @/sage-like-the-herb if you want to), so don’t judge this too harshly. Also, I felt bored when I wrote this, so the idea is pretty underdeveloped. Because I’m not as active here, don’t expect stuff like this too often 😂 I hope y’all like it, though!

(Edit: It’s sooo short…)

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

(Third-person POV)

Y/N was besides herself with excitement. After months of being away from her husband, she finally got an owl with a time and date to meet up. So, that’s how she found herself waiting outside his classroom.

As the bell rang, and students came out of the room in swarms, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward.

“Aunt Y/N?” a voice asked suddenly.

Head snapping upward, she met the familiar eyes of Albus Potter. After being introduced to her as if she was family, the whole lot of Potter children had taken to calling her their aunt.

“Albus!” she exclaimed, hugging him. She felt relieved upon realizing that she was still tall in his eyes; he was about shoulder-level to her. “Merlin, you’ve grown! I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Lily keeps talking about you,” Albus commented, breaking out of the embrace. “She wants to know when you and Uncle Neville will come by again.”

“Hopefully soon,” Y/N promised. “Now, run along to lunch, I want to drop by Nev’s office for a bit.”

“There are students inside,” Albus informed her. “A rather annoying lot of seventh-years. They just burst in during class! I’d wait out here for a bit, if I were you.”

“Well then, I suppose I’ll do just that.”

So, she waited.

Thankfully, she didn’t stand for too long. Moments later, a trio of girls came walking out of the room, giggling away madly.

“He’s so cute!” a blonde-haired girl squealed. (Admittedly, the girl reminded Y/N of a prepubescent Hannah Abbott, who had harbored a crush on Neville for years until he rejected her in favor of Ginny Weasley as his Yule Ball date.)

Jealousy slapped a bewildered Y/N across the face.

“Yeah!” the blonde girl’s friend agreed. “I don’t care if he’s married, I’d smash him, for sure.”

Y/N felt disgusted.

“Don’t steal my man,” the third girl joked. “I did the research; our Zodiac signs are compatible. Do wizards even believe in Zodiacs?”

“Whatever,” the blonde girl rolled her eyes. “He’s still eye candy.”

“Excuse me,” Y/N said loudly, unable to take this talk of her husband any louder. “Could you young ladies move, please?” When the girls only gave confused and slightly disgusted looks, she continued. “I’d like to see my husband.”

All three girls stopped mid-conversation.

The second-girl’s face paled. “Y-you’re Professor Longbottom’s w-wife?”

“We don’t mean any harm!” the third girl squeaked, eyes widening in fear. “We were only joking! Right, Jessica?” she nudged the girl beside her.

The blonde girl, Jessica, was at a loss of words. She opened her mouth, then closed it once more. “Sorry, Mrs. Longbottom,” she apologized immediately.

“It’s Mrs. Y/L/N, actually,” Y/N scowled. “Mrs. Longbottom is my mother-in-law. Now move,” filthy mudbloods. Thankfully, she didn’t let the last two words slip out her mouth.

Merlin, marrying a Longbottom sure smacked the pureblood supremacist out of Y/N.

However, Y/N didn’t feel the slightest bit ashamed of herself as she slammed her shoulder against Jessica’s on her way into Neville’s classroom.

Y/N twisted the door handle, and rather aggressively slammed the door open. “Nev?” she called out.

“Y/N/N!” Neville exclaimed, accidentally knocking an empty flower pot off his desk in excitement. “Whoops.” He muttered a quiet Reparo and fixed it, before setting the pot back on his desk.

He was quick to wrap his arms tightly around his wife. They stayed like that for a moment, breathing in the moment, before breaking apart.

“I missed you, Nev,” Y/N sighed, looking her husband in his warm honey-like eyes. She must’ve looked the slightest bit irritated from her encounter with the seventh-years, since he gazed at her in worry.

“What’s wrong, flower?” he asked, concern written on his now angular face (all the chubbiness of his youth had abandoned his post-pubescent figure).

Y/N stayed quiet, feeling too embarrassed to admit it. She could feel a flush creeping up her face.

“Y/N/N?”

Merlin, it sure felt weird to be jealous of bloody seventh-years.

“Iwaskindajealousofthosegirlsthatwereherebefore,” Y/N blurted out, hoping that Neville would drop the subject.

However, her sweet Nev, her sweet, caring Nev, could sense the situation gnawing at her insides, so he wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders.

“Sorry? I didn’t quite catch what you said, Y/N/N.” Noticing Y/N’s awkward expression and clearly flustered face, he added a soft, “it’s okay, flower, you can tell me. I won’t judge.”

At this point, she wanted to cry. From embarrassment of her predicament, or pure adoration toward her loving husband, Y/N didn’t have a single clue.

“I was jealous, Nev.” Her face must’ve been a tomato by that point.

At his confused look, she elaborated her statement.

“These really pretty seventh-years were leaving your classroom, while talking about how good-looking you are, and I felt jealous. It’s just that— they were gorgeous!” Y/N ranted.

Neville blinked at her. Then, he burst into a fit of laughter. Well, what she assumed was laughter. Neville must’ve been holding back the full brink of his amusement for her sake, since his chuckles sounded rather like wheezes of desperation.

“You were jealous of those girls?” he laughed. “I don’t normally want to talk bad about my students, but they’re the worst group of people I’ve ever encountered. The ironic thing is, they were visiting my room to get some herbs for a Glamour Potion.”

At Y/N’s doubtful look, he spun her around to place both his hands on her shoulders.

“Y/N/N,” he said seriously. “Flower. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on— sorry, Gran,” he joked. Y/N cracked a smile. “I’m so lucky to be married to someone as wonderful as you. You’re kind, loving, appreciative, considerate, and just about every quality that girls like them lack.”

“I—”

“Don’t compare yourself to them,” Neville warned. “Otherwise I’ll have to muster up all my Gryffindor courage just to come up with another motivational speech.” His so-called ‘Gryffindor’ courage must’ve been given a boost by Y/N’s growing smile, since he finished with a passionate “I love you. You. Not them.”

Y/N leaned forward just a bit to press her lips against her husbands.

“I love you too, Nev,” she murmured while kissing him.

The End.

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

Not me ending the story in the most third grade-me way ever 💀💀 i haven’t ended a story with ‘the end,’ in a while, but I’ve never actually been motivated to finish my stories in a while, either. Anywho, thoughts on this?? The writing and plot aren’t too bad, right?

[spotsandsocks]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @honestlydarkprincess @hoodie-buck @spaceprincessem @heartshapedvows @loserdiaz @the-likesofus @daffi-990 thank you my talented pocket pals

I was going to share more shifter fic but thought you all might be getting a bit bored so instead have some demisexual Eddie finding out that sexual attraction hits like a truck.

He hadn’t meant to do it today.

He hadn’t really thought he’d do it ever.

If you’d asked Eddie if he’d had any intentions of telling Buck how he felt about him, the answer would have been no.

Ok so he’d had a few vague thoughts on how he might possibly say something, maybe, one day but any musings he’d had in that direction had certainly not involved blurting it out as Buck handed over a coffee by the fire truck.

It’s not his fault, it really isn’t, he’s not used to feeling like this, hot and flustered and overwhelmed.

And the thing is he forgets. Forgets how ridiculously attractive he is. So when he just appears looking like he does it’s all a bit too much.

It had been fine at the start, he'd been able to tell Buck was an handsome man, a definite contender for that ridiculous calendar he’d had been obsessed with back then but Eddie personally hadn’t found him attractive. That wasn’t a surprise; in general he didn’t lose his head over a pretty face or well shaped body.

Which is why it had been such a shock the day he did. He rembers the first time he’d felt that physical pull towards Buck. The first time he’d looked and thought ‘fuck he’s hot’.

They’d been on shift and he’d known Buck a while, the pair of them getting closer all the time, the other man showing up for him over and over again in a way no one ever had before. Buck had found his place in his and Christopher’s lives and it felt right, as if he was always meant to be there. Eddie had a best friend and then in a heartbeat he had something else.

Buck had walked past him in a t-shirt that was far too tight and shorts that hung far too low on his hips and thrown him a blinding smile and winked. Eddie had walked straight into the station table causing a chorus of protests as coffee spilt everywhere.

His heart had raced and his blood had heated and as he watched Buck walk away he realisesd he wanted more. So much more.

Not sure where this is going or if it will but I quite like this bit.

Anyone who wants to share please do I love to see what you’re writing.

@shortsighted-owl @monsterrae1 @hippolotamus @stagefoureddiediaz @underwater-ninja-13 @ronordmann @exhuastedpigeon @wikiangela @disasterbuckdiaz @wildlife4life @elvensorceress @rogerzsteven @thekristen999 @wikiangela @eddiebabygirldiaz @buddierights @bekkachaos @fiona-fififi @giddyupbuck @housewifebuck @like-the-rest-of-la @thewolvesof1998 @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy hope I didn’t forget you, if I did you’re tagged anyway 😘

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Tagged by @jeeyuns @devirnis and @rewritetheending for fuck it Friday! Here's a soft drable prompt (sweater weather) that I never posted because it's like. Almost identical to the mowing the lawn one. Oh well! Fuck it! I'll add it to the collection!

Buck is laying half on the bed, knees bent so his feet rest on the floor, head turned to watch Eddie get dressed. Eddie, a surprisingly indulgent man, usually lets him have the first shower (when they're not sharing) with only a token complaint and a smile so soft it makes Buck's heart stutter. Eventually Eddie had admitted it was a ploy to stay in bed a few minutes longer, but Buck can hardly begrudge him that when going first is a ploy for this; catching glimpses of newly familiar body parts as as Eddie puts on his boxers, watching the tense of muscles as he slides into his shirt, smiling at the little hop he does as he pulls up his jeans. Buck never liked writing essays but he thinks it would be easy if the topic was Eddie's confident fingers tucking in his shirt and doing up the button fly. He wonders how he could ever explain how handsome he finds the mundane movements of Eddie putting on an old sweatshirt, arms stretching, hands tugging, torso bending, no thought spared to the fluffy mess his hair will become once it's been dragged through the soft inside of the fabric. Eddie catches his eye as he smooths a hand over the faded and crackly Rangers logo.  "Hey," he says, a question in there, a laugh hidden behind it.  "Hi," Buck says. "I'm kind of obsessed with you.  The laugh stops hiding and floats up into the room. Eddie walks to the bed, puts his knees on either side of Buck's thighs, and flops down on top of him. Buck wraps his arms around him and smiles up at the ceiling, smiles into his hair, smiles against his shoulder. Eddie kisses his neck, nothing heated, just resting his lips against Buck’s pulse for a moment. “What about me, specifically?” He comes up to prop his chin on his elbow and look down at Buck as he asks, smiling again, that too soft one. Buck touches his lips with his fingertips. “Uh- that you’re real?” Buck smiles as Eddie laughs, and tries again. “I mean, like… you’re alive and you put on sweatshirts.”  Eddie tips forward again to laugh into Buck’s collar bone. “Hm, yeah? Good to know the bar is pretty low.”  “I mean-“ Buck laughs, too, sliding his hands up and down Eddie’s sides. “I just like the way you exist. I like that you exist.” He taps a little rhythm over Eddie’s ribs. “You… I like that we’re both alive around each other. Not like- I mean sort of in a I’m glad our near death experiences never actually killed us way, but like… I just mean I like being around you, when everything is normal. I like putting on clothes and you put on clothes and… and then we’ll go eat breakfast and do whatever we’re going to do today.” He bumps his head into the top of Eddie’s still resting on his chest. “Does that make sense at all?” Eddie pulls his head up to look at Buck, and the soft smile isn’t there but is hiding right under the surface. He kisses Buck, warm and gentle. “I know what you mean,” he says, quiet, a hand tracing over the shoulder seam of Buck’s red sweater. “I like… that you’re alive and put on clothes, too. And that you do it here, with me.” Buck grins, big and bright and understood, and Eddie kisses him again. “Yeah. You and me.” “You and me,” he agrees, kissing Buck’s forehead before sitting up and then standing. He holds out a hand. “Come on. We’ve got breakfast to eat and whatever to do.” Buck takes his hand and they move into their day. 

Tagging @forthewolves @homerforsure @burins @wildlife4life @shitouttabuck @shortsighted-owl

[avatarmerida]

Oh snap, it’s another beta huntlow drabble. This is my HC for a William/Paulina meetcute. It’s pretty simple, they meet and it’s cute. 💚💛

———

“Greetings, bird tube beast… thing, I am here to speak with the girl.” William said in a huff as he approached the Owl House, grumpy and slightly out of breath from the long walk.

“And whoooo may I say is calling?” Hooty said sweetly, twirling his neck around.

“Prince William,” he said crisply. “I’ve come to continue our conversation about proper etiquette and to speak with her guardian about her reckless behavior.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure her guardian is the one who taught her that behavior.” Hooty said. “But aaaaanyways, she’s not-.”

“I’m afraid I must insist, it is an urgent matter that I cannot prolong.”

“Okaaaay, but she’s not-.”

“I understand she will not want to face me given her poor manners, but it is a matter we must resolve like civilized people. Now, may I speak with her?”

“I shall get someone to speak to you,” said Hooty, turning his head inside and William could hear him yell. “THERE’S AN ANGRY LITTLE MAN AT THE DOOR!” he turned back to face William and offered him a smile. “She’ll be right with you, m’lord.”

“Right… thank you.”

He had worked on his speech the whole way over. He needed her help, he could not deny that, but he also needed to ensure her decorum did not continue. The door opened and a William prepared to launch right into his monlougue, but the girl who opened the door was not the girl from before. No, the girl who stood before him now was surely an angel.

“Oh, hello,” said the angel. “I’m sorry, Luz and Eda aren’t home right now. I’m watching Hooty and King while they’re away, I’m Paulina.” She reached out her hand to him and William found himself speechless for possibly the first time in his life. She was so effortlessly graceful, so delicate, so vivid. The way her peridot eyes reflected the sun made him feel as though-.

“I think he’s broken.” Spoke the bird tube and William shook himself out of his trance, realizing in embarrassment that he had been staring.

Remembering his title, he carefully took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, fair lady.” He said trying to make his voice low and mature sounding as he gently pressed a kiss to her to top of her hand.

Now it was Paulina’s turn to stare as the princely boy before her continued to hold her hand as he raised his eyes to her. There was no sarcasm in his words or insincerity in his smile, a gap in his front teeth adding to his charm. He seemed as though he was genuinely pleased to meet her which was not something Paulina was used to feeling with confidence. She felt like her heart was about to-

“Hey! Who’s at the door? Did we order food? We don’t have any money! Take the food and run!” King’s voice beckoned as the little creature pushed past Paulina only to be disappointed with the lack of snacks in William’s arms. “Oh, it’s you. Why are you kissing my servant?”

“King I told you, I’m not your servant I’m your babysitter.” Laughed Paulina, her had still in William’s as he froze in place.

“Well I guess that would be an appropriate title, IF THERE WAS A BABY HERE!” King exclaimed standing between her and William, extending his arms to her eagerly so she could pick him up. “Uppies! Uppies!”

Paulina sighed as she picked up the little creature and rested him on her hip as she turned her attention back to the handsome stranger in front of her. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“My name? Oh yes of course how terribly rude of me,” he said reaching for her and yet again. “Prince William, at your service m’lady.” He placed another kiss on her hand, prolonging this one as he held her gaze hoping to create the perfect first impression.

“A prince? Really?” Giggled Paulina. It was a throaty, airy giggle she had never heard herself make before. “Oh… wow.”

He was so… tall. Like, not ridiculously tall but tall enough that when he stood back up and Paulina looked up at him, he cut off the sun perfectly so that it looked as though a halo surrounded his golden hair. She didn’t remove her hand from his this time and and could’ve sworn that he tightened his grip.

“Oh! Oh! Kiss my hand! Kiss my hand!” King sang, entering their line of linked vision and reminding them they weren’t the only two people in the world as he waved his hands in William’s face. The prince didn’t know what else to do and so took King’s hand and quickly kissed it. King laughed and clapped his hands in delight. “Haha ew, you have no idea where these have been.”

“Right, anyway,” William tried to continue, now with an odd taste in his mouth. “I’m here because-.”

“-you’re soaking wet.” Paulina finished, noticing his state for the first time.

“Huh? Oh, yes that’s why I’m here,” he said, remembering the reason he came all this way. “I uh, had a run in with the human and I needed to-.”

“Here.” Paulina said, handing him a green cloth she took from her pocket.

“Oh, uh… thank you,” he said, taking the fabric from her and he suddenly realized how uncomfortable he actually was. The human had “borrowed” his sword and when he insisted of its immediate return, she forced him to chase her and he ended up falling in a barrel of some odd smelling liquid. He was suddenly very self conscious of this and hoped Paulina did not assume that this was how he usually smelled. He wished they had met under better circumstances, and he could show her the full extent of his charm. But for now, he gently dabbed his sleeves with her small offering .

“Don’t mention it,” she said sweetly, scratching King’s head. “I always keep them with me, abomination goo is hard to clean off, especially when it gets in your hair.”

“That’s only one of the reasons my hands are sticky!” King declared in delight.

“Right,” said William, taken back by the way kindness came so naturally to her. Typically when people were this kind to him, they wanted something from him. But he sensed her sweetness was constant. “Um, well if the human isn’t here then I guess I should be going…”

“Oh, right yeah.” Paulina said, remembering he hadn’t come here just to see her. “Um, did you want me to give her a message?”

“Oh, yes if you could,” he said. “Just uh, let her know that I’ll be back tomorrow. Will… you be here tomorrow?” He added as nonchalantly as he could.

“I will!” Hooty chimed in. They had forgotten he was there.

“It’s possible,” she said with a smile. “Is there anything else you want me to tell her?”

“Yes, uh tell her that while I’m less than thrilled with her actions… I’m rather impressed with the company she keeps.” He went to return her cloth to her but she held her hand up to refuse.

“Keep it,” she insisted. “I have plenty.”

“Thank you,” he said, tucking it carefully in his breast pocket for safe keeping. He tucked it close to his heart, hoping she somehow sensed the romantic sentiment. He assumed she did, as entrusting a handkerchief to a prince was a key part in every royal romance he had ever read about. Oh, this girl was perfect. Finally, someone who appreciates and understood the importance of etiquette. “I shall keep it safe.”

“Um… okay?” She said, not seeing the big deal as it was just an extra rag she felt he needed more than she did right now. “Well, William it was very nice meeting you.”

“Oh, the pleasure was all mine,” he said with a grand flourish. Once more, he reached for her hand. “Until we meet again.” He kissed her knuckle once more. He gave her one final now before turning swiftly on his heel to leave her with the perfect farewell. Any anger he came here with had since been washed away and he felt lighter than he ever had before, it was almost like he was floating back to the castle.

“Is there like jelly on your knuckles or something? Why did he keep doing that?” King wondered aloud as he examined her hands and Paulina watched William walk away with a grand sigh.

“That’s the prince Luz said was whiney and scrawny?” Paulina said, thinking he was just the opposite. Luz never mentioned his piercing eyes or the elegant way his voice flowed. She was perplexed that anyone could be anything other than charmed after meeting him. “Oh wow, I can’t believe I just met a prince.”

She hasn’t panned on visiting the owl house tomorrow, but now her mine raced with a dozen reasons to stop by.

“Pshh, big deal I totally outrank him!” King declared. “And my crown is way better!”

[spidervee]

coming soon! -> the good man's grace • tangerine x fem!reader

summary: tangerine doesn't make mistakes. until he does. and it all starts on the day he walks into the owl's hollow, a pretty little bookshop tucked away in an alley somewhere in london. his theft, a collection of poetry from one of his favourites, should be the end of it, but something (or someone) draws him back between the cluttered shelves. the shopkeeper, his sweet sparrow, who may not know his name, but knows much more than she's willing to let on.

a/n: i cannot stop thinking about this man and how he'd fall in love with the sweetest heart only to be (pleasantly?) surprised that she's more than meets the eye so this is my latest brain worm that just won't go away. dropping within the next couple of days! (before 2023)

warnings: 18+ only; canon-typical violence and gore; cursing (like, so fucking much of it); fem!reader who is also bi!reader; britishisms written by a canadian with zero clue; bookshop!reader has no racial or body type descriptors, other than being shorter than tangerine (and having smaller hands than his); kidnapping; non-con photos and a threat of a*sault (but no actual a*sault); protective!tangerine; protective!lemon; smut (fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, slight dacryphilia, fantasizing about oral sex); angsty!tangerine; semi-graphic descriptions of injury; bird motif; copious amounts of petnames; unnecessary references to bluey because the author loves that show

preview: The more often he visits, the worse it becomes. 

Tangerine contemplates burning your shop to the ground, only after checking that you’re not inside, of course. All he’d have to do is toss the fuckin' match and walk away. You’d collect a nice little insurance payout and he’d have no more excuses to see you. 

But therein lies the problem. Because as much as it makes no bloody sense, his fucked up brain wants to see you. He wants to see you every day in more places than this cozy little shop you've created and in less clothing than those bloody colourful dresses you're always wearing.

And you?

You think you might be developing a crush on moustache, as you've taken to calling him. Which is stupid because you don’t know anything about him aside from the fact that he’s got a mouth like a sailor and hands that look large enough to wrap around your throat and blue eyes that pierce your very being. And a moustache that reminds you of that seventies porno you'd watched years ago with your college girlfriend, just for shits and giggles. This bloke is the shit romance novels are made of—tall, dark, and handsome—and you’d gladly stock a hundred of them if he were on the cover, even though you like to think your shop is a little more refined than that. 

You watch him over the pages of your book as he weaves in and out of the shelves, a few volumes of poetry in his gloved hands, pointer finger tapping a frenetic beat on the hardback covers. He seems less at ease than usual—in fact, he's downright intense. How utterly Byronic of him.

Making up your mind, you set the book down and step out from behind the waist- high counter, floral skirt swishing about your hips.

“Is everything alright?” 

He blinks at you with those cerulean eyes that sit like sapphires upon his face, framed by fine lines of crow's feet. And then, before he can reply, you bite your lip and try a smile.

“Can I make you a cuppa?” 

[amurih]

I know that Squak is going to be the “fun” Uncle for Peep but what if the others? I trying to imagine like Peep describing her mother’s “family” tree and it’s fucking wild man. Like she’s giving like a “ my family tree” presentation to her class:

After a long explanation as to what bad parts of birds Great-grandfather is made up of Peep is ready to share with the class her TOP 5 favorite family members on her Mother’s side.

First is what looks like a professional headshot of a dark skinned man’s with bird like features giving a seductive/suggestive look and an signature autograph of the pen named “Airry Pearry”.

“And here is Uncle Squak, he likes to party hard and write stories with me. Mommy says I can’t have the special drinks and Glad Stuff that she and uncle like to have until I get bigger, but they give me my favorite juice and candy so I can have fun too!”

Peep slides over to the next set of people on the board labeled Andhera and BINX. A picture of a handsome tall man with a small cloud over his head standing next to a shorter woman with a choppy bob and moth wings on her back. Both look like a deer in the headlights spooked from having their picture taken in grubby shirts, stretchy leggings, and mismatched socks.

“And here is Uncle Andhera and Aunt BINX; uncle is the prince of the Unseelie Court and can fold so many animal out of paper, and knows a lot about caves! Auntie has a HUGE collection of cool stuff that people forgot! Uncle also has a dog with a face of an old man named Grandpa Dog! It even speaks! Aunt BINX gives me hot chocolate when we go camping outside and always has a warm blanket for when it gets cold.”

They then slide their fingers to the last two names in front of the children. Both Huge and monstrous beings wearing really fancy clothing. One with the face of a canine, many teeth and sharp claws. The other the head of a green barn owl but the body of a bear wearing flowers on them.

“And here is Uncle Hob and Auncle Rue. Uncle Hob is big and scary looking at first, but he is very soft and gentle and lets me ride his horse with him. I once saw him punch a tree in half while getting the fire wood on our camping trip with Aunt BINX and Uncle Andera. Auncle Rue is so pretty and always wears the nicest clothes. I like to dress up with them and have our tea parties! They used to plan and host BIG parties for everyone in all the realms of the fey wild.Mommy, and Uncle Squak, and Uncle Andhera, and Aunt BINX, and Uncle Hob met at one of their parties. They like to play matchmaker.”

[unhonest-iago]

My Pretty Little Galway Girl

Idk why I made the set up for this so long. That said, happy w/ how it turned out.

P/t—preferred temperature

F/m/g—favorite music genre

Fem reader

Corpse meeting y/n at a dive bar, him in the audience and them on the stage. Fingers plucking the strings on their violin, the body nestled between shoulder and chin. Long skirts swaying as they moved across the stage. 'Why hello there stranger,' greeting Corpse after he sent them a drink.

Two fingers shooting upward in a mini salute when y/n looked towards his end of the bar, deciphering who had sent it. A handsome man with unruly black hair. 'Name's Corpse.'

'Y/n. Hopefully you don't murder people as a hobby.' They joked, not thinking Corpse could become any more attractive when they heard his laugh. 'Can promise you I've never murdered anyone. Plus haven't met anyone to murder.'

'Oh, so are you new to town new or new to this neck of the woods new?' Crossing a leg over the other, smoothing their skirt down. 'As in moved here a week ago.' Y/n, entranced by the man decided to be his tour guide. Asking if he was free the following weekend. 'What for?' The tone of the conversation carrying a wind of coyness. 'Sight seeing, if you're up for it.'

‘Hop on, stranger.’ The term quickly became a staple nickname y/n uses for Corpse. Corpse glad he wore jeans at the sight of their motorcycle. ‘Nice to see you again, fiddler.’ Corpse looping his hands around their waist.

Y/n ends up taking him to all the hole in the wall joints that tourists would never find. Purposely choosing the scenic routes. The day closing with the duo sat on top of a hill, watching the sun go down as they shared a pile of fries. 'Thanks for this.' Corpse whispers. Nudging their knee with his, 'No problem, was nice to get an outsider's opinion. Finally got to share it with someone.'

Chat notices that Corpse is happier and starts conspiring whether he has a partner which scares the fuck out of him because he hasn't told y/n what he actually does for a living. So he sits y/n down that week and explains it all to them. 'Can I watch you stream? It's fine if not.' Corpse helps them set up an account.

Corpse being just as supportive with y/n's work. Going to a gig here and there when he has nothing to do. Still taken a-back at how comfortable they are on stage, even though it's more of a slate platform. Y/n spotting him when they once again get a drink sent their way. Mouthing the word 'tease,' and Corpse simply mouths back 'but you love me for it.'

Leads to them moving into an apartment together. Corpse getting some of his friends to help carry boxes in if they're free. Y/n unlocking the door after they park the rental truck into the parking lot. Living together, y/n learns that Corpse is a big night owl and takes his coffee black. Corpse learns that y/n likes the thermostat on p/t and that they like to listen to f/m/g while cleaning

A year rolls around and it's now springtime. 'What's got you all excited?' Corpse asks as he hugged them from behind, having noticed how y/n had a little pep in their step. 'St. Patrick's Day is next week. Actually got to the store early enough to get a whole brisket.'

His eyebrow furrowed as he asked, 'brisket for what?' Apparently he'd wrongfully assumed that it was gonna be another day. 'Corned beef and cabbage, my folks always made it for St. Patrick's Day. That or we'd go to an Irish pub for lunch.' Thinking back to it, Corpse had met y/n in one such pub a year prior on the aforementioned day.

'Did we meet because of--?' Lifting his head from their shoulder. 'Yea, we did. But that was a coincidence, wasn't supposed to work that day.' The usual violinist unable to play as they'd inexplicably broken their wrist. 'Do you do the whole pinching thing?'

'No, you can still go out in your dark aesthetic,' playful teasing at how most of his wardrobe was the quintessential 'I'll stop wearing black when they make a darker color.' But so was theirs, Corpse's fashion taste rubbing off on them.

Corpse helped set the table, every time he tried helping in the kitchen, he'd immediately get booted by y/n. It'd been on the stove, simmering away for 3 hours. 'Corpse, could you get the balsamic vinegar? Should be in the fridge.' Somehow switching roles when Corpse gently nudged them aside once he saw them struggling. 'I got it, now how thin do you want it?' Gesturing with their thumb and pointer.

'You sure you like it? Not too tough is it?' Corpse, placing down his silverware, grabbed y/n's hand. Running his thumb in circles against their wrist. 'It's perfect, fiddler.' Kissing their cheek. 'Thanks, stranger.'