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#the ‘somehow it makes me happy’ makes me wanna cry like Aw
smilesrobotlover · 3 months
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Phantom hourglass posting :’)
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ARI THE BINGO THING IS SO CUTE?? if you’re still doing them can you do one for me :33
RHEYAAAA MY BELOVED :3333 here is a big cup of warm tea for you … pls have a seat 🍵 I AMMM STILL DOING THEM here is yours hehe!!!
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taegularities · 5 months
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colour me in: blooming | jjk (m)
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Summary: You're the flower blossoming in Jungkook's living room, no matter how relentless the rain. And you're the sun he tirelessly orbits — warm as a home.
➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; hints of angst, fluff overload, suggestive ➳ warnings: full jk pov!, fluff fluff fluff, but also crying, bits of insecurities, mommy and daddy issues, their friendddsss <3, oc's favourite blanket smells like him <3, his feelings for her are consuming him in a gorgeous way 🥺, grocery shopping 🍏 and then a housewarming party, jk chocolate chip nips appreciation (oc pinches them lol), horniness, implied sex + implied boner, sexual tension, flirting and teasing and bickering, yearning, convos about their relationship/life, cooking together hehe, jk is so… jk, kissing/making out, the ending ♡ ➳ word count: 15.6k ➳ a/n: domesticity is my favourite city and i never wanna leave lol. i've genuinely been enjoying fluff more than i ever thought i would. this chapter made me so damn happy and i hope it has the same effect on you guys, too <3 let me know how you liked it; feedback is always appreciated 🥺 also, there are lil sub-headings to avoid confusion with the timeline!! enjoy!! 🤍 ➳ a/n2: even though i am a tiny bit late… happy birthday @jkaxl. love you so much, axelle <3 ➳ listen to: daylight by taylor swift (ty anon <3) | full collaborative playlist 🤍
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SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs
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”Are you happy?”
“I’m… I’m adjusting to it all. It’s new. But so far I feel— relieved.”
“Okay.” He pauses. “I’m sorry I didn’t encourage that feeling earlier. But… you know. You found your way on your own, and somehow, I find that just as remarkable. If not so much more.”
“Thank you.”
Silence breaks the dialogue, but there are still shreds of unspoken words he’s not letting out yet. Right on the tip of his tongue, resting quietly; so you wait. Let your weary gaze slump to your lap, blinking until you hear a rustle and a—
“Do you want to come over sometime?”
You don’t know.
So you respond in just that uncertainty, “Maybe at some point? When it’s… not so overwhelming anymore.”
“I understand. Hey,” another break in his speech, “I’m proud of you.”
Your heart suspends for a fraction of a moment, but you feel the seething, searing pain. Fresh, clumping up your throat.
“…Thank you.”
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THE SUNDAY AFTER THE PRESS CONFERENCE
When Jungkook locks the door, the apartment is quiet, but the living room light still glowing.
Still fired up and hot, the cool back of his hand pats his warm neck and cheek. Your name threatens to tumble off his tongue, but an oddly calm feeling advises against it. And as he carries his bag into the living room, setting it down next to a big flower pot you so wanted, he sees why.
Because you’re curled up on the couch, temple against the back of it, legs pulled in. Your favourite blanket — that you swear constantly smells like him — is draped half over you, falling off one of your shoulders.
You’re sound asleep. 
Jungkook recognises the pout even from afar; lets his eyes drift from your face to the hand peeking out of the blanket. Brushing a piece of paper that is holding on for dear life, attempting not to slip off your lap.
What if he never moved? If he kept staring?
Back in college, one of his dearest professors used to say, “You know it’s art when even blinking feels like a waste of time. You don’t want to spend a second not looking at it.”
That very semester is still a major component of Jungkook’s memory. Ever since, he’s seen a handful and a dozen and a hundred pieces that matched the words once uttered.
Just, never as much as today.
The sky has obscured since he left two hours ago — he wonders how fast that time passed for you. Either way, he reckons you didn’t rest until your body forced you to. Because it’s not anywhere near bedtime; but the changes in your life constantly add to your exhaustion.
He wanted to help. He did all morning before you sent him away, arguing that, “You’re already doing too much. And you hate paperwork anyway!”
To which he expressed, “But I don’t hate you or having you here!”
“Just go!” You reached to his left nipple, poking it, and he, wearing a frisky smirk, instinctively threw a protective hand over it. “The muscles demand your attention desperately. Just don’t look at other girls’ butts, ‘kay?”
He chuckled.
You made it sound like a life-altering goodbye to a year-long journey instead of a brief trip to the gym. He nodded solemnly, nearly saluting as he agreed, “You’re right. Gonna make sure I’m able to crush you extra hard.”
But it seems you crushed and knocked yourself out well enough. And that after he sent out various emails with you, drafting and crafting a battle plan, googling salient issues and their solutions, and writing down lists of everything still left to do before you can actually move in.
The two of you are lucky the landlord is laid-back. Usually, they don’t let anyone move in so quickly; demand a couple months. And you’ll already be settling here officially the very next.
Not that it makes any difference.
You already spend your dusks and dawns here, clinging, reluctant to go home. And he won’t tell you to; he’d be a fool to. Plus, he hates his bed cold.
Jungkook’s steps are slow, muscles painful to the touch. He sweeps his tresses back as he nears your slumbering, balled up form, soon pressing a hand into the arm of the couch. Suppressing a groan, he leans in; frees your closed eye from a lock before he plants a kiss next to it.
You stir with the softest flutter of your eyelashes, just a teeny tiny bit.
God. You tilt his world off its axis.
“Baby,” he whispers.
It must be pulling you out of the remnants of your doze, because your muscles awaken, corners of your lips twitching. The movement of your legs finally pushes the paper off the blanket, and Jungkook hurries to catch it before it can drift to the floor; places it on the table.
He kneels; and for the briefest, smallest moments, you flinch when your pupils eventually align with his. Then, relaxation floods you anew, and you grip the blanket, sliding it back over you — only for it to glide down again.
You smile — a tired beam, accompanied by a sigh. Not quite wide, because you’re not fully there yet, but still so genuine. Stretching a little, you murmur, “You’re back.”
“And you’re still working,” he scolds, albeit cushioning his words by bringing a fingertip to your jaw. Flicking affectionately, softly. “Did you eat?”
“Mhmmm. But it’s—” Your hand taps for something, moving under the blanket; and a second later, you’re lighting up your phone, squinting at it. “It’s not late. Gonna eat with you again. I’m not that tired anymore.”
As if on cue, you yawn, tears of weariness collecting. You interrupt it with a gentle snicker and promise, “I mean it.”
The lopsided smile emerges on his features quickly. The drowsy, vulnerable tone in your voice caresses his heart like a gust… but the meaning behind it doesn’t pass by him so fast.
“Don’t overwork yourself, okay?” he repeats for the fifth time today alone; it’s become a constant habit. A reminder, like clockwork. “The body knows when you do.”
“No. I feel great.”
“Just. Be nice to yourself, munchkin.”
“I am,” you defend, attempting to stress the verb, but not quite getting there, “I am. Don’t worry so much.”
An impossible demand; but how would he explain it to you?
Despite the shake of his head, he still gives in, “Okay. I’ll shower and be back in a sec, yeah?”
He waits for your confirmation until you hum in unintelligible agreement, moving back in to plant a kiss on your forehead. Rushes to the shower, washes off today’s effort.
Wet hair strands pushed back, he finds you shuffling and organising the papers you read and filled in today, placing them neatly in the middle of the table. You look more awake now, delivering a content smile before heading to the kitchen with him.
Only, your mind might not be entirely unfogged yet — because your movements are slow. Different from how he handles the stir fry that the two of you cooked for lunch together.
You were proud of your creation — told Jungkook how you’re still far from the skills he possesses, but not bad to start with and improving every day. Seasoning better, understanding how to cut faster without hurting yourself in the process.
It’s lovely, watching the contentment spread in your eyes.
Yet, Jungkook always makes sure to stand close to your back, hands lifted, persistently ready to salvage the situation if need be.
But right now, judging from your clearly burdened brain, he bestowed a relatively simple task upon you. And you look so cute doing it — bun all messy, shoulders slumped, sporting (after stealing) his joggers since they’re so ridiculously comfortable, so get your own.
He side-eyes you every now and then, forbearing a chuckle; but when your lower lip juts in concentration, he can’t help but sling an arm around your waist. The jug containing the iced tea shakes, and you hold the glass carefully, voicing a little, “Oh— I… Kook.”
You’re wide-eyed and caught off guard; blinking when he tilts his head and leaves a kiss under your ear. 
You raise your shoulder at the tickling sensation, and when you call his name again, your voice is reprimanding. But he could pick out the endearment even in his sleep.
That’s how it goes every hour of the day; sweet and new ever since you started frequenting his place even more often than before.
Something has occurred since the press conference. Two days only — but the universe has changed. Maybe it has expanded faster than ever and birthed a couple billion more stars, made even the nights brighter. He doesn’t know.
All he does recognise is that unnamed, newfound feeling spreading in his chest, and he’s been unblurring it. Bit by bit. Letting it take on a form that will soon consume him. He’s sure.
And soon, there’ll be a fitting word and definition matching this phenomenon, too.
It’s triggered by even the smallest things.
Like by the sound of your steps when you walk through the apartment. Or by the way you hum your favourite song all the time, unconsciously; then singing the line you hold dearest to your heart before resuming to the hum.
Trust in me when I say…
Or even… by how you’re facing him an hour later, satiated and cross-legged on the bed as you finish up today’s work.
You’ll have to notify the bank and whatnot of your move soon, so you need to brainstorm the relevant institutions that the new address and information will go to. It shouldn’t take too long; you’re diligent, so you’ll just be noting down all numbers next to the places you need to contact and then crash.
Jungkook soon takes over that task, lips moving as he reads the words, writes them down. And amidst the end-of-the-day chore, you crane your neck to read, and tell him, “You have such pretty handwriting.”
“So do you. I didn’t know you made circles over your lower case I’s,” he looks closer to where you scribbled, tapping the pen against a letter, “and awwh. The curves of the T’s!”
You giggle before you add, “I’ve heard a pretty handwriting symbolises inner beauty, by the way.”
“Ohh, so we’re both beautiful.”
“No doubt. We need to take more pictures… we look great together.”
That’s what’s been filling the hours of these days, too, Jungkook supposes. The airy, light atmosphere within the four walls he’s come to share with you. Laughter and shared glances, despite the stack awaiting you — because it signifies far more than paperwork.
Which is why it surprises him when a subtle switch occurs, suddenly and unannounced.
When he looks at your fingers lifting a paper, he can’t say what you’re seeing, but your ardour falters a little. Crooning dying, expression not matching the smile on the pictures you spoke of.
Delicately, you trace the edges of the document before putting it back down, aligning it with the rest of the pile. Pushing the whole thing to the side, you sigh, and he, a silent observer up to this moment, asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Hm?”
“You’re thinking about something. And I don’t like it when you’re quiet like this.”
“Oh… It’s nothing.” The shrug is subtle and unconvincing, and the tight shutting of your lips so telling to him. He senses the tension before you finally reveal, “Dad called today. And…” He waits; another shrug. “It’s nothing. He just asked how I was holding up. And that he’s sorry things had to escalate on Friday.”
Ah. Odd.
Jungkook would never say it to you: Because he has never been one to talk families down, sever a bond by voicing his opinion, even if the relationship’s already hanging by a thread. No… he’d never say it to you.
But.
There’s a dull realisation in the back of his mind; and it evokes quiet anger in him. That… there was always a potential anchor inhabiting the same house as you, but never serving as one.
Hidden behind your mother’s back, letting it all pass — probably for you to build character.
Jungkook has always assumed that his dad did just that, too. Throwing him into the world without support, letting a seemingly irresponsible teenager, and then young adult, experience hardships in order to learn how to deal with them.
In contrast to your father, his dad wouldn’t apologise to him… yet, in the end, morally and emotionally, both your families fucked up big time.
“Oh…”
You nod, elaborating, “He wanted to know if I was going to visit him. But I need a bit of time.”
Right… thinking about it, you haven’t seen your father in a while. And your mother hasn’t blown up your phone since Friday evening — when you came out of the glass building, with equally glassy yet hopeful eyes.
You truly must have let off steam in there for her to back away.
“Is that why you were saying you’ll be rushing to the house after work?”
Because as far as he recalls, you’ve been talking about gathering your stuff immediately after working hours — or on Saturday mornings. Never any other time. Because you know they won’t be at home then.
“Yeah,” you confirm, “I feel horrible neglecting him like that, because he seems to be glad that I’m happy, but…”
Your lips point downward; you clear your throat, but it doesn’t hide the tremble in your voice, “I just wish he’d defended me sometimes. Dunno. Maybe he did and I just don’t know about it? And it never worked? It’s what I like to think.”
God…
“Because,” you continue your vent, “he was strict but not like her, and… Sometimes he did recognise bullshit when he saw it. I’d hear them talk and he wouldn’t always see eye to eye with her. But a bit more open support would’ve been cool, you know?”
Shit, how it angers Jungkook.
The knot in your throat; how you avert his gaze; the looming tears. It all angers him.
He moves his hand to your knee, keeping his voice and heart steady for you. Simply uttering, “Baby…”
“And… and then today he suddenly seemed… I don’t know.” You take a deep breath, shaking your head. Your blinking fastens, and you vehemently dodge Jungkook’s eyes. “I dunno how casually he said it, but he told me he was proud.”
The way you emphasise the word… as if it’s a stranger to you, like you’re trying it out…
Jungkook sighs, heart and chest heavy, muttering so kindly—
“Oh, sweetheart… Ah, come here—”
His palm shoves the papers aside some more, uncaring, and brings you closer to his body. Yearning for your embrace, he shifts with you until your legs wrap around each other. Fingers slither to your chin to raise it, and then pinch your cheek adoringly.
The bedroom light falls into your sparkling eyes, shiny with the dampness. You’re not crying, but you sniffle for a moment.
“Of course he is,” he whispers, keeping your face upright, “what’s there not to be proud of? You’re so fucking cool.”
“…You think?”
“Of course I do,” he repeats, “you’re so inspiring and smart and funny and awesome. I’m the proudest of you, in fact.”
The heat increases beneath his palms as your cheek smoulders, pupils promptly softening. As if the outline of your irises is blurring, relinquishing the harder, unwanted emotions.
“I could probably live with just that,” you respond, managing a tender laugh and mixing it with your sniffles. “But…”
But perhaps, the heavy heart won’t get entirely lighter just yet. And Jungkook’s turns half blue at the same time as yours.
“I wish my mom could react the same way instead of being so… stubborn. I mean, it’s a good thing that I want to stand on my own two feet! And aside from work — she also saw me in the summer, and she knew how I felt without you. She sees how I feel now with you, too, and yet.”
You puff out some air, as if you’d been dying to rant; and he imitates the release of a quiet breath, but for wholly other reasons.
Because…
Along with the melancholy drenching your voice, the guilt shoots an arrow to his heart. Guilty about this damn summer; about the days he nearly gave up on you. If he could encase your fractured soul in a quick cure…
“I’m sorry she keeps hurting you, baby. And… I’m sorry you cried. Being sad over a loser like me was the last thing you needed, so…”
He’s half joking; lifting the corner of his lips. You seem to know, too, because you match his smile — still pledging, “Being sad sucked, but… you’re right here now and. I do need you.”
It’s so easy for you to tinge his entire being in a bright pink. Because somewhere in the depths of his mind, he admits that he wanted to hear this. That he wants you to need him as much as he needs you.
“And I’m right here to stay,” he promises. “Even if she doesn’t. Okay?”
“Yeah… yeah. But maybe someday she can be proud, too.”
It’s fucking you up more than he thought. Probably more than you thought.
“I’m sure,” he guarantees, “some people accept their mindsets as the only truth, angel, but one day she’ll come around.” You only nod. So he adds, “I’ll fix this with you.”
“Fix it?”
“The issues you deal with. And the ones I deal with. You and I together, okay?”
Your motions are slow. The nod is barely one; maybe because his hands refuse to establish yet another distance to your skin. And maybe because you’ve tired yourself out once and for all. The slight slouch is telling; your body needs some rest.
Enough with the papers.
“You know… somehow, this excites me,” he says. The grin emerging confuses you for a while; the flicker in your eyes is as delightful as the moment. “Pulling out all the stops and making things better with you, I mean. I wouldn’t wanna do it with anyone else.”
And he’d know. Because if he’d been comfortable enough, he would’ve long ago; he had the chance to. Yet, the courage never surfaced — until with you.
His touch drops from your face to the side of your neck, shaking you gently before he says, “You excite me all the time.”
Shouldn’t be news to you — bearing his unceasing kisses and everlasting words in mind, his bliss is difficult to miss. There’s barely any containing it around you.
And maybe you know what he means; because judging from your dreamy smile, you can’t seem to muster any self-control either. Feeling the joy bubbling, growing, simmering in the middle of your stomach until it explodes and you—
Wrap your arms around his neck abruptly. Attacking him until balance abandons him, falling back onto the bed before you land on top of him. The hug is crushing, your body pushing into his with every sliver of fondness you can summon.
He could say something. Blurt more admissions dipped in honey. But he doesn’t question it; doesn’t comment on it. Only relishes the silence and your warm cheek against his chest, cuddling in.
And sighs in contentment.
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A WEEK LATER
You’re messing up the structured system he established for himself.
The groceries are scattered in the cart; instead of playing Tetris with them, as he usually does, you’re piling them up randomly, unaware of the mess.
Jungkook doesn’t have the heart to tell you that the pack of eggs isn’t supposed to be balancing on top of other products like this. Because holy shit, you are buzzing. Not because you don’t know how to grocery shop, but because of the conversation this morning.
”I've got a whole list in my head. We’ll need a shit ton to make this work tonight.”
You were taming your hair as you listened; watching your reflection follow your movements — and as he readied himself for the day, Jungkook watched from afar.
You’d decided that for now, a week was enough to mourn the loss of whatever familial bonds could’ve been. Just last night you told him that starting this new life means an opportunity to gradually leave your sorrow behind, even if it takes some time.
And in celebration of the new arc you’re so joyfully approaching, you’d decided to host a housewarming of some sorts.
Jungkook’s friends already know his place; but the pronoun has changed. This time, you want them to step into your apartment, too.
Securing a hair strand with a clip, you asked, “Do we have it all here?”
“Not everything. Gotta go grocery shopping later.”
“Ohhh…”
Your fingers floated to the edge of the wash basin. You held it in your grip, leaning over it a little, staring into your own eyes quietly. He checked with another step closer to the bathroom, glimpsing at the expression in the mirror.
Calm, but thinking.
“What is it?” he asked, pulling his jeans’ zipper close.
“Uhh. Do you need help?”
“You should rest. You’re already doing so m—”
“No, no, I mean…” You let the sink go, folding your fingers. Inhaling for just a moment when your eyes fell on his bare torso. “I want to go grocery shopping with you. It’s Saturday and I have nothing to do until tonight. So… Please don’t go without me?”
The big eyes and saccharine question went straight to his heart; like one of Cupid’s pointy, sharp arrows targeting the exact middle of the organ. What else could he have done other than breaking into a breathy laugh — wide grin building a lively start to the morning.
“Of course. I’ll wait until you’re ready then.”
You raised a triumphant, tight fist, and he shook his head in delight. Diminished the distance between your bodies, a hand pressing into the back of your head before pulling you to his lips and placing a kiss to your forehead. Right before—
“Hey— ouch?”
It didn’t hurt; but he still felt the fingers pinching his tiny nipples — and heard your cheeky, “Why are they always hard? And why are you always shirtless, Jeon?”
He didn’t argue that changing into outdoor clothes didn’t count. Instead, the bright golden light you cast in his mind distracted him, taking him back.
You’d said that to him before; everything has changed since then.
“Why are you smiling like this?” you ask, holding a pack of four yellow apples in one hand, red ones in the other.
“Hm?” Jungkook rubs a hand over his cheek, feeling the glee in his countenance before flattening the dimples. “It’s nothing. I’m just liking how much fun you’re having.”
“I am! But most of all because I can’t wait to cook with you today.”
Your words instantly conjure pictures of a potential evening; idyllic ones mixing with utter chaos. Rushing and cutting and serving — but for one of the very first times together. Only milestones ahead.
A higher pitched gushing threatens to fall out of Jungkook, right here in the fruit aisle. But instead, you raise your hands again, asking, “Which ones?”
“Hmmm… neither. Let’s get the green ones.”
You let your arms fall, a finger pointing towards him, and say, “Ohhh. Good call.”
And then you proceed to complicate the cart labyrinth again. What a savagery. Jungkook waits until you’ve turned around and works on reorganising again, following his system. Then, he thinks — this could be draining, but it’s not.
Because you keep each other entertained. And neither of you bothers about the gapes you receive.
Not when he leans over the cart, shoving it in teeny tiny steps; continuing when he realises it makes you laugh.
Or, when you cheer once you find something the two of you like that nobody else enjoys; accompanied by exclaimed Ohhhhs and Haaas. And not as you argue when you find something to disagree about.
It seems that you do not dig dates, and he, the friendly omnivore, takes playful offence in that. He teases you across half the supermarket until you turn the tables, picking up an eggplant and interrupting him with a,
“Look! This is you.”
The roll of his eyes only veils his amusement a little, he’s sure. Because your enthusiasm remains steady, including the impish pull of his beige Supreme beanie over his eyes and a kiss to his cheek that paints the spot in a rosy dust.
Pointing to a glass of honey, Jungkook soon fights back, “And this is you.”
“…This is way too sweet and I do not know how to counter it.”
“Romance tends to make people speechless, darling.”
Your expression resembles an ellipsis; whether you’re out of answers or overwhelmingly affected by the selection of his words, he doesn’t know. He knows he’d short circuit if you ever said that to him.
“Fair,” is what you settle on, though, “wouldn’t I know what brain outages your romantic ass causes.”
You’re the model definition of a cheesy, movie-esque couple. Taehyung and Eun differ from the nature the two of you showcase; they already threatened to bring paper bags in case Jungkook and you overdo it tonight.
Can’t blame them. The world is certainly pink-tinted when you bicker and jest at the register; or when you hurry through an Ikea — courtesy of your last minute plan to buy plants — to make it home and cook in time.
Just this morning, you were daydreaming about the concept of furniture retailers and how such shops allow building a home with the most special person.
And then, as if wanting to clarify your sentiments, you turned in the car, facing him as you struggled with the belt, just to say, “Which is you for me. I’m building a home with you.”
Jungkook’s legs still melt into a puddle whenever he remembers the softness in your words, and the puppy gaze you threw as you finally leaned back in your seat.
Which is why it’s such a shame that the clock is ticking so relentlessly.
Because your initial elation turns into disapproval only for today as you wade through the labyrinthine, time-consuming design the store is so popular for. Trying to keep up with Jungkook’s pace and hastening across the rooms.
And even then, neither of your laughter ceases; you turn the most stressful situations into deep solace. The pressure soon gives way to a calm satisfaction the moment your apartment door opens.
You set up the few plants you brought; some under the window, some on the desk in the bedroom, right next to the Beauty and the Beast rose, and a jade plant in the living room. For good luck, you said.
And then, after resting for five minutes and abandoning all further breaks, you start work in the kitchen. Which proves as cooperative as he thought — that is, until you get into a friendly argument about whether to do the dishes now or later.
“One of us keeps cooking. The other washes up what we don’t need anymore,” Jungkook explains, repeating it over and over.
To which you keep defending, “Or. One cooks one dish. The other handles the second. And we finish cooking faster and then do the dishes together.”
His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, and he whines, “It won’t make much of a difference!”
“Well, if it doesn’t, then we could do either!”
“BUT… it might get crowded if we work at the stove at the same time, babe—”
“You just don’t trust me with th—”
“Keep yelling at me like that, and—” Jungkook interjects, and you wince a tiny bit; but he continues a mere, barely lasting moment later, “and I swear I’ll kiss you.”
Beat of silence. Your eyebrows are still furrowed. And then, amidst the agitation, you erupt into laughter. Blend it with the chortle he can’t suppress, either.
To Jungkook, the sound is akin to a song — and he could spin the record all day long.
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Spoiler warning — you do not kiss. But the lively chuckles and free-spirited conversations dye the atmosphere and flavour it. Its sweetness feels like a feathery kiss, too.
And whether it’s that very unlimited sense of familiarity, gradually growing, or your unwavering teamwork at last — you’re surprised when the late afternoon transforms into an early evening, a dimly blue, cloudy sky already changing into different shades of grey.
Time passed fast; but the hour-hand on the clock still hasn’t quite moved to where you’re waiting for it to settle. Because back in the living room, you’re still an hour early. Your guests are invited for around six, but you can’t say when they’ll actually show up.
Seems you wrapped up work at a convenient time. Better now than late.
You kiss your teeth in the middle of the room, scanning it for something to do. It’s clean; pretty. Plants set up, table wiped, cushions neatly set on the couch. So you remark, “We were so stressed, I didn’t think we’d be finished already.”
Jungkook, already plummeting onto the far end of the couch, pats the spot next to him, saying, “That’s good. Gives us a bit of time to relax. Anything you wanna do?”
But you don’t sit down yet. You watch your manspreading boyfriend lean back, big inked hand wrapping around the remote control. You look at the open button of his shirt, and the singular hair strands; the side parting. The mole under his lips and the big eyes.
He just doesn’t notice it until the lack of a response continues.
“Huh?” he voices again, finger stopping over the power button before his eyes flit back to you.
You look deep in emotions and distracted; if he could guess, then even… ferociously yearning. He waits with a dancing heart until you admit boldly, “There’s plenty I can think of that I wanna do right now.”
You fold your hands behind your back, chest out a little, legs crossing. You curl your lower lip in, nibbling at it. It affects him, and you know. He sucks in air, a hand on his thigh. Blinking at you, and then poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.
He leaves out a puff of a tiny laugh, shaking his head a bit. Nearly succumbing to the thought that…
Perhaps there’s an activity you can indulge in before they come, right—
Wrong.
Jungkook, no matter how tempted, throws another glance at the clock, and argues, “Stop thinking of eggplants. They’ll probably be here soon, so your smooth-talking is not allowed to work!”
Your body relaxes, back in its prior position; you pout for a second. “Fine. Then I’ll get dressed before anything else.”
Jungkook sighs in relief — close. Way too close. Tonight might just stretch his jeans if you keep this up; his blood is already abandoning his brain and putting its attention elsewhere.
But you’re well-mannered in the company of guests, right?
Only one way to find out — an hour to go.
Jungkook heaves his body off the couch merely ten minutes later.
And maybe even that was too early.
Maybe he should’ve waited for you to trudge out of the bedroom; or should’ve gotten his clothes and changed somewhere else. Because when he follows your steps to find a new attire for himself, too, you’re sitting at the very edge of the bed, dress already on.
It’s not too posh; rather casual. A green cotton one, pulled up to your hip because you’re dragging transparent tights over your legs. A patch of your thighs is still visible; part of your ass on display where your panties don’t reach. Skin far too empty without his kiss on it.
He doesn’t know how you do it; but within a moment, you elicit a plethora of emotions in him. Burning desire; comfortable warmth; cosy affection. You look so cuddled in in that autumn dress.
Pretty. So gorgeous; you’ll drive him insane.
But the craze doesn’t manifest in hunger this time, but gathers in a single breath, let out in a sigh. Which… makes you recoil. Your hand briefly bolts to your chest, eyes rolling, head shaking. You murmur a quiet, “Babe…” before resuming the task.
Jungkook watches as you lift your body to pull your tights over your ass and the dress back into place, and then reaches out a palm to you; urging yours to settle in it.
Still trapped in a cube of daydreams, he tugs you in until your grace radiates toward him, and then tells you—
“My baby is the prettiest ever. Ever, ever.”
You take his fawning with glowing cheeks, smile so unbelievably worth being alive as you answer, “Your baby isn’t sure if she deserves this so suddenly, but… thankful either way.”
Your voice is an endearing mix of soft and enthusiastic. The combination that breathes life into a room. You’re so…
“God,” he says, squeezing your hand, lifting his other fingers to touch the hem of your dress. Fixing it albeit already perfectly sitting. Then looks up; eyes dropping to your lips. “Maybe you were right. Want to kiss you stupid right now.”
And he would; he wouldn’t hesitate if you didn’t move a palm to his face, pressing a thumb to his plush mouth. Telling him, “Nope, too late. The make up wasn’t easy to do. And dark lipstick is hard to remove.”
Fuck, not when he’s kissing it off…
“I…” Gulp. “Fine, princess.” He removes your hand from his face, towing you back into the living room. “Then, what do we do now? Movie?”
“Nah… It’s so hard to stop watching. Gonna kick them out again if we start now. What about… hm.”
Your eyes dart across the room, and Jungkook takes the moment to suggest, “Or we could have some soju already? Or wine, beer, whatever?”
“Or…”
You wait. Jungkook follows your gaze to the back of the room, surprised when it falls on a peeking canvas behind another big plant pot. Oh — that’s still there. He never took it out, and neither did you. Protecting his privacy, probably.
But perhaps it’s lighting a bulb over your head, because you soon ask, “Or. Wanna give me a house tour?”
“A house tour? Don’t you know every corner already?”
“Yeah but,” you shrug, rounding the couch with him in tow, “I wasn’t always here. You organised the place the way you wanted to when you moved in, so you’d know it better. Like…” You point to the turned painting, “What’s that?”
“That’s… Remember the drawing I had in my notebook? Of Gureum?”
Quite a while ago. You visited him for the first time in Namjoon’s studio back then; recalled it at the exhibit, too. Crazy how sentiments have changed. From a silly play-pretend game to damaged souls to this…
You nod.
“Yeah so,” he continues, “I painted him on a bigger surface.”
Your eyes shoot open, genuine interest in them. “Oh? Can I see?”
“Of course.”
It’s not his best work, honestly; but it is close to his heart. A piece he still wants to improve and feature in his own exhibit once it rolls around. The colouring process will be interesting; it’s barely an outline yet.
But you seem to perceive it with utter fascination and sheer joy. Because the moment Jungkook heaves the canvas up, turning it for you to see, your chin drops. You gasp, mumbling under your breath, “You’re kidding!”
“…Do you like it?”
“It’s so cute! This is…” You lean in, taking in every detail; commenting on it. “He’s a fluffball! Oh my god, the tongue peeking out. He looks so happy.” When you look up into his eyes, Jungkook’s heart does a thing; and his cheeks the other thing. “You painted him from memory?”
“Mmh, maybe a couple details? But I got most of him from a picture my aunt sent me a while ago. He’s been looking much older these days and I wanted to capture him before he ages even more. Made me miss him so much.”
“Awwh, Kook…” You pout. “I really want to meet him one day.”
He looks at you with something knowing and so telling in his gaze; he feels it unveil through his own stare. The knowledge he possesses about something, and that you don’t.
You might notice hints of it, but you don’t question it. Listening when he responds, “You will. He really is a fluffball and remembers me even after months and years of distance.”
“I love him already.” You lift, straightening your back. Watching as Jungkook sets the painting back before you add, “Okay. House tour. What else?”
“Hmm. Let’s see. Come.” He leads you the short way to the cupboard, and you follow in tiny steps, like an explorer running from one treasure to another. So exhilirated. So fucking cute. “Look, these— and don’t laugh, these are precious to me.”
“Laugh?”
“…These,” he opens the cupboard doors, reaching to the far back, behind some decoration; and pulls out a deck of cards. “Are my Yu-Gi-Oh cards. I used to collect them long ago, but I’m never throwing them away. Also—”
Your lips are parted, your eyes focused. Eyebrows shooting up gently, delighted when he takes out another small object from the back.
“My Jiraiya figure that I got for my tenth birthday.”
“Holy shit… I really never bothered looking in hidden corners.” Yeah… but now that you are, you’re making this place your own, too. No, it already is yours, the way he is. He swoons at the thought. “This is so cool. Why would I laugh?!”
“Ah… Were you a Naruto fan?”
You tilt your head. “A little. More into Detective Conan, though.”
Jungkook wonders… How foolish might his smile be looking right now?
“You… keep surprising me, angel,” he says — and you seem to like the praise.
Because you light up, forefinger touching his chest as you reiterate, “See? The house tour wasn’t a bad idea at all! Look at us tracking back the path of our souls, too.”
Jungkook can’t help but chuckle. You’re a breath of fresh air to be around; so incredibly tender when you’re yourself. After all those weeks, you’re finally back to who he used to know. Not as sad anymore.
Never sick of the hand-holding, he grips your palm again, voice hushed when he orders, “Follow me, quick!” The mysterious journey leads you to the closet next; back to the quiet bedroom as he playfully shushes you. “I haven’t worn them in a long time, so you won’t know, but… Look, because the secret's out.”
You crane your neck to see what he’s referring to. And when you do, you coo and laugh straight away. Endlessly enraptured when he claims, “Wahh. They were my super-favourites.”
Iron Man socks. Obviously worn a hundred times; so, so him.
His bunny teeth flash in all their glory when he smiles, dimples out and corners of his eyes crinkly. He feels you hold his hand tighter, and you pick the most supportive tone when you say, “You need to start wearing them again! It’s so sweet when you’re geeky.”
“Maybe you’re right.” He stuffs them back, though not to the very bottom anymore; places them on top for easy access. And then, he continues, “Okay. One more thing for the glorious house tour, and we’re done. It’s another important sight, actually.”
“Ah. Oh?”
Barely a couple seconds later, you’re back to where the trip started. Following suit when he kneels near the table; swift beam spreading over your face when he clears his throat and narrates, “This… Is where I painted on you. Not on another medium, but I painted on you. Remember?”
You must. He rarely abandons paper and his usual colours like that; but you were the most marvellous masterpiece he ever covered. The most outstanding canvas he’s ever drawn on…
“I do.”
Your gaze falls sideways; are you remembering the same heart on your waist that he does? And how he touched it; smeared it under the shower water. How your back pressed into his chest, unknown what feelings you truly harboured, but never failing to showcase his own care to you.
The kisses on your shoulder. The whispers in your ears. The plea for you to stay.
“Of course I do. It was so calming,” you add, “and so beautiful.” You touch the soft carpet, plucking at its tiny fibres. “You consider it a sight at Jeon manor?”
He snickers at your choice of words, but then inhales, and very sternly says, “Yeah. We also had sex here, so it’s forever tainted. I remember it felt… like… we should do it ag—”
“Now it’s you saying these things!” You move a fist to his bicep, pushing against it lightly. “Be serious. Be romantic! It’s not the time to make me want you.”
“Oof, hey… For the record, I was being romantic! And also, I only want you more when you’re being sweet,” he rubs the spot you grazed; he barely felt it, “but seriously. I still remember everything I felt for you. And how crazy you drove me… and how vulnerable you were.”
You’re still stroking the fur of the carpet as you look into his eyes; and he sees a molten puddle in yours. Only one side of your lips lifts, but the softness in your voice is genuine, “I think I still am. Just a lot safer than before.”
“…Good. Me too.”
And that’s all.
That’s all his mind comes up with, because all the words and infatuation are locked in his heart, moving to his fingertips when he inches closer. He raises them to your chin. Knees near yours and close the yawning distance until your lips are a whisker away.
Funny — how his strong chest holds a feeble heart. Bursting and aching, full and yearning.
If he could, he’d stay here with you forever, just like that.
But. The two of you have a party to host.
And the suddenly ringing phone reminds you of it. Makes you flinch until your noses and foreheads touch, and you laugh, rubbing them as you tap the couch for the device. The two of you lean against the sofa, cosy on the carpet as you pick up.
He hears Eun’s voice announce through the phone, “We’re all here. Just a warning, because you better not be naked.”
You shoot a glance toward Jungkook. He snorts, and you start, “Why would we…”
“‘Cause we’re early for once. Taehyung didn’t need as much time with his hair today. So be prepared.”
Jungkook nods in confirmation. Taehyung usually needs to be told an earlier time when invited to an event or get-together.
There are sounds in the background, and he readies himself to register another voice. But not a second later, the doorbell chimes. Guess the two of you will have to wait with the bare devotion. 
Because for now, it’s time to indulge the gang. Let them stream in with vibrant greetings, wrapped gifts, endless booze and sweets as irresistible as you.
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Jimin is the only guest coming in a little later, rushing straight from his shift. And Jungkook recognises quickly that he’s not Jimin’s first pick for conversation after a timid handshake and parting of ways.
There’s no enmity between them; Jungkook reckons it’s more the awkwardness from the Blue Night still lingering between Jimin and him. Maybe even some leftover guilt about how he used to perceive the younger man.
At least, it’s strange when he, eventually, does take a seat on the couch, separated from Jungkook only by a healing Yoongi. You’re busy talking to Eun, and Taehyung has escaped to the bathroom. Yoongi maintains a healthy atmosphere with casual talks and soft jokes.
But even if somewhat reluctantly, it seems that Jimin is at least trying when he leans back on the couch, enabling a better view to Jungkook as he asks, “Did you paint that one?”
Jungkook follows the finger pointing at the wall next to the window; nothing too out of the ordinary. Just colourful flowers. It’s okay. Better this than nothing to warm up to each other.
Turning on the couch, Jungkook waves a hand in denial as he explains, “Ah, no, no. She bought it because she thought it’s cute.”
“But you could paint that, too,” Yoongi argues, followed by Jungkook’s shy, “I guess.”
“Ohh, okay, okay. Well, since we’re talking about it. Even if you didn’t paint it,” Jimin says, “been wanting to tell you that I loved your exhibit stuff. Uhm, Eun showed me pictures. Hope that’s okay.”
That’s surprising. Jungkook considers himself gifted in this sense, but— having someone actually boast about his work for him makes him feel… accomplished? Appreciated.
No wonder you hold your friends in such high regard.
“Yeah! Of course. Thank you, Jimin.”
“It’s a pretty place, by the way.”
Yoongi wiggles a finger back and forth with an agreeing nod, snacking away, a quiet listener for the time being. There’s something amusing about it; makes Jungkook smile as he tells Jimin, “Thanks. And I’m glad you could come. Can imagine work’s a lot, so…”
“Yeah. No worries. Everything for our girl.”
Jungkook hums as the chat dies and the awkwardness returns. And then, he remembers—
Speaking of — where are you again? Still in the kitchen? Seems so. Or at least, moving away from it bit by bit.
Immersed in a conversation, holding the frame of the living room door, at the threshold to the anteroom. You’re discussing something with Eun, your expression focused. He can’t really make out your words because of those exchanged between Jimin and Yoongi, but…
A moment later, you do look at him. And then away again immediately — as if he caught you. A motion of your hand waves whatever cryptic topic off; and intrigued, Jungkook comes to a stand.
In vain — because Taehyung returns the same moment, babbling about whatever Yoongi just said. And you use the opportunity to march into the room, asking Jungkook to help you set the table for dinner.
To his chagrin, most of them offer to help momentarily. Taehyung swarms around you, insisting on plating, making it impossible for Jungkook to find a moment to ask what your conversation was about. And eventually, he gives up — if it’s important, you’ll tell him.
So for now, he relishes the evening your friends grant the two of you. They compliment the food, narrate short and long stories, watching Jungkook and you unwrap the gifts — board games from Jimin, cutting boards and wine from Yoongi, a stylish, modern thermostat from Taehyung and Eun.
The ecstasy overflows, the screeches probably making your neighbours think of you unhinged. Wine spills on the table; curses exchange; laughing turns into crying.
If anything other than this life is considered good, then Jungkook doesn’t crave that goodness. The unbridled chuckles, and your never-dropping smile are beyond everything twinkling and gorgeous already.
And he’s happy, too. Elated when you cover your mouth when you laugh; and overjoyed when you stand at the window after dinner, leaning forward. Breathing in the autumn air.
Jungkook follows once things wind down and the guests agree upon an appropriate volume. He mimics your stance, lower arms on the windowsill and hands hanging relaxed.
His fingers graze the withering flowers in the window box. They’re slowly dying by the hands of the approaching cold, and the rain keeps overwatering them. Yet… they still let it hurt them, holding on for as long as possible.
So in love with the shower.
It’s almost a bit tragic.
Jungkook refocuses, turning to you and asks, “What are you doing?”
Your head moves to the side, and you kill the remaining distance between you. Step close until you’re nearly nudging his elbow.
“Just,” you nod into a haphazard direction; into the outside world, “looking at the rain. Got a bit stifling in there.”
“Yeah.” Jungkook throws a glance over his shoulder. “Also, I think they’re getting drunk.”
“Mhmmm. Except Jimin. Poor him is looking at the alcohol so longingly. Did you notice that he didn’t drink?”
“Someone has to drive them home, and Yoongi with his healing injury is out. I offered, but Jimin insisted on taking care of them and not, as he said, bothering us. Super thoughtful, really.”
You smile, nodding along before you silence. He doesn’t know what you’re thinking of; or what you’re seeing. Maybe you’re truly only revelling in the rain; contrasting it with the sunshine you radiate.
Maybe he should look for a rainbow somewhere.
In the midst of the tranquil evening, your gape strays from the drizzle with a blink. It descends to his twirling thumbs, and then moves along the length of his arm. Jungkook notices your attention from the side, but only turns to look at you when he realises what you’ve fixated on.
You gesture towards the hues and outlines on his skin, delicately touching the writhing snake as you say, “Want a tour for them, too, if you’d ever allow. I imagine it could be fun.”
“Tattoo tracing?” His lips move into an endeared smile; you look so fascinated. Like you’re seeing them for the first time. “I’d be down. I could even…” His fingers journey to yours, gently leading them to the flowers. “I can even give you a sneak peek.”
“Really?”
“Sure. Look.” He guides your touch over the dazzling orange of his tiger lily. “This is me. Tiger lilies beg for love. I’ve always sought love, too.”
Your eyes change. He knows you see it, too — the urge to never be abandoned again, all the time.
He can nearly see your heart ache. And feels his own thump a thousand miles a second. A fraction of it breaks off and jumps into your chest, making it yours; it does it all the damn time until you hold the entirety of it in the palm of your hands.
Unhurried, he steers your finger further, stopping at the blue tint; clearly hears you draw a breath when he tells you, “And this… This is my girlfriend. She’s even prettier in real life… that’s right.”
For a bit, you’re speechless. Jungkook keeps admiring you in the forget-me-nots for another second, and when you don’t speak on, he meets your eyes. You’re shaking your head, and then — slowly wrapping an arm around his, moving close, head on his shoulder.
From this angle, your cheeks are demanding to be squeezed; eyelashes kiss them softly, your lips tempting curves when you laugh. Jungkook doesn’t get enough of you… and you don’t want to make it easier for him either.
Because, “Shit,” you say, “you were right about pining more when someone’s being romantic. ‘Cause you’re making me want you so bad, in every way. Are you… still up for kissing me stupid?”
“Ahh… babe.”
“I just… You excite me, too, you know?”
“Don’t say these things while they’re here, baby,” he warns, although as tenderly as anyhow possible, “you’ll give me a heart attack, I mean it.”
“Now you know how I feel all the time!” you tease, fingers flicking raindrops into his face out of nowhere.
Jungkook recoils and squirms, taken aback, but it takes him a mere second to play along. He gathers rain in his palms, threatening to toss it into your face; bickering chaos at the open living room window until your damp hands rejoin and delicate digits interlace.
And as he looks at the sad flowers again, the reality of the moment makes him think. How the two of you used to resemble the blossoms in your window box, once enduring the incessant melancholy, too.
Much like the flowers towards the downpour, Jungkook and you reached for each other while being watered by gloom — but unlike the flowers, you’re still sprouting and thriving into something vivid and fragrant. Not beaten by the agonising shower.
The rain hurt me, but I wanted to keep fighting. Because I hoped. Because I adored.
And in the end, him and you aren’t tragic like them. You will never wither — only bloom.
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An hour later, the apartment is empty.
You opened all the windows to eliminate the suffocating air; and the hot water running in the sink soothes your cold skin. What a relief to watch the clinking dishes lessen; you sigh at the small amount still left, and Jungkook catches it immediately.
“See?” he teases, loading the dishwasher. Even that seems like a task after such a day; tidying up the living room was more than enough. “Good that we did most of it during and after cooking. It’s so much even now.”
Eyes heavy, you admit, “I should learn to listen to you more.”
He clicks his tongue, skipping a response, and then, out of the blue, says, “Angel… I could get used to this.”
“To me listening to you more?”
“Yes. But no. To you being here.”
You glow up, even though you’re still facing the sink, smile a little hidden, “You need to. Because I’ll be annoying you all the time.”
“Oh, I believe you.”
You hit him with a spoon, wetting the spot a bit before handing the cutlery to him. Delivering a head tilt, he smirks. Amused before he remembers something and asks, “Hey. What were you and Eun talking about earlier?��
“Hm? When?”
“Before dinner. It looked serious.”
You halt mid-movement. Did he catch something? Maybe. But you only insist, “Nothing special. About her graduation… you know, since it’s pretty soon.”
Huh. Doesn’t seem to quite cut it.
“Mmmh. Anything else?”
You feign a thoughtful moment, as if you’ve wiped your memory clean off whatever she said to you. Then, you tell him, “Yeah. I told her how you played around with the recipe and came up with the best dinner ever. And how hot you looked doing it.”
“…You said the last bit, too?”
“No.” Jungkook blows a raspberry before comically pressing his lips into a line, eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s not my fault. I mean, do you know how attractive is it to be among people and know that this one person is still only looking at you?”
Oh, all too well…
“I would definitely know,” he chuckles. “Shit. You’ve been testing me tonight, you know?”
“…How?”
“All those compliments and ambiguous statements.” You shrug your shoulders in apparent innocence, muttering a small, ”It’s true" before he digs, “Anyway, don’t distract me. Anything else she said?”
Perhaps you’re done playing games. And perhaps you should’ve kept doing just that; because your next answer is a much greater tease.
“…I’ll tell you about it soon enough.”
Jungkook squints, organising a plate into a free spot, playfully disgruntled, “Unfair.”
“Hang in there.”
“Alright. You’re lucky I trust you.”
Your grin is gaping wide, and he attempts his best to ignore it. But when you add an evil snicker to it, regarding him with pure mirth in your eyes, he folds, “What?”
“Nothing. You’re just so cute. You’ll keep acting like you’re digging, but still always know when to respect my decisions. Maybe the bar is low? But I find trust ridiculously attractive.” You throw a longing smile at him, bringing a damp fingertip to his cheek to poke. “And to top it off… You’re so pretty, too, and I’m just… enamoured from all sides and—”
You wait and he uses the moment to wipe his cheek on his shirt. But when you don’t speak on, he spurs you on, “…And?”
“And I want you so bad.”
The plate waiting to be set into the dishwasher drops on the counter. Jungkook stares up, regarding the ceiling with a seemingly agitated look. You don’t know what’s truly whirling in him, so you warily ponder, “…What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Jungkook turns the water off, taking the cups from your hands and placing them in the sink. He shakes his palms off the liquid, and then whispers, “Okay. Later.”
The hold around your wrist is firm, and the tug firmer. Determined, he leads you out of the kitchen, slapping a hand over the light switch; your eyes are wide when you ask, “Wait, we’re not do—”
His answer is predictable; yet, you didn’t foresee it. Because—
“Bedroom. Right now.”
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THE MORNING OF THE CONFESSION
Unlike you, Jungkook has considered himself a night owl ever since he entered the bustling world of college. Settling in the city was a stirring experience, and the thrill of it, along with a girlfriend, exams and newfound friends, kept him up until the sun rose again.
He enjoyed what he did, too. Loved school, so he didn’t mind the fatigued eyes during lectures. Truly one of the handful of joys that helped rid his head of the brain fog he bestowed upon himself after each long, sleepless night.
And he was an avid participant in classes despite his sheepish persona — they shook him awake, the late afternoon workouts obliterating the rest of the exhaustion. Maybe that’s why he was so reluctant to flake out for the night, too; still energised.
But while Jungkook carried the spirit of a straight-out-of-the-high-school-freshman who disliked falling asleep early, he despised waking up at the break of day just as much.
Would groan, blinking into the sun, with no one to blame for his agitation but him. No matter how deep his fascination for his studies and how quick the fading of his initial irritation — the first few minutes of every day were pure agony.
Jungkook is still a night owl. Still wants the nights to stretch, albeit for other reasons now. But his attitude towards mornings has changed.
There’s a shift in his preferences now; you moved his universe by an inch, altered it so effortlessly. Suddenly, he doesn’t regret rising with the sun next to him. He doesn’t curse the groggy feeling anymore.
There’s a silky touch he seeks every single morning that his eyes open to, lips he follows with his own blindly. You’re a permanent presence now, air and fire to his lungs, and he feels the freshness, feels the burn whenever your fingers brush his shoulders upon waking up.
He won’t need to check in at work for a few hours still; yet, sleeping in would mean losing the minutes that you’re still here before walking out the door until the evening.
He’ll sacrifice a slumber for this. Voluntarily.
And it’s crazy how none of this requires any sort of effort or pleading from your side. How all you need to do is to breathe and talk and smile and stay.
Those extra moments, no matter how fleeting, grant him a little more time on Earth with you, and he grasps it greedily. Even when you spend it teasing the hell out of him. Or, even when you wake up with scorching cheeks and endearing, high pitched complaints.
Like today.
“I still can’t believe yesterday,” you say.
“It’s okay.”
“I embarrassed myself so hard. Thinking about it, can I really show my face at the wedding? I’ll probably make things worse.”
Jungkook keeps glancing at the back of your head, the loose bun shaking with your movement. Smoothly, his fingers trace up and down your back; a gesture he started randomly and continued the moment you mumbled, “I like it… continue?”
Sat between his legs, you’ve been swaying for a while, both uneasy and amped about the approaching event. And to Jungkook, it’s as sweet as it is frustrating to see your brain fuming like that.
“Come here, baby,” he demands, content when you reverse into him. He wraps his arms around your chest, pulling you to his body, and presses a pillowy kiss to your temple. “You’re overthinking again. I promise you, we’ll make sure you have the most fun.”
“I embarrassed myself so hard,” you repeat, and Jungkook kisses his teeth.
“You’re a clown, I’ll admit,” you whine his name, and he laughs, “but I’m telling you. I know my mom and that was her I-like-you voice. Which I didn’t doubt for a second, by the way. Like, she really seems happy with how my life has turned out, and with whom. As am I. Understand?”
One more kiss to your scalp. He swings you from side to side, ignoring the ticking of the clock. In a few, you’ll be leaving the apartment, and Jungkook will need to kill the hours until he joins Namjoon at work. 
He shouldn’t be missing you already; but he still holds you tighter. Tighter until you let out a little groan, a hand on his arm. He can’t read your thoughts or decipher whether his promise helped; because you don’t answer yet.
Only wait for a few seconds, allowing him to wallow in your warmth until you call, “…Jungkook.”
“Mhh?”
“Talking about life and stuff… did you always imagine yours to be like this? Just curious.”
“Like this?” he ponders, mentally intertwining every current branch of his life into one healthily growing tree. He’s liking it. “Well… I graduated. An exhibition ahead that’ll hopefully bring me a step closer to my own studio and profession.”
You hum in pride, tapping his arm as an affectionate reward. He continues, “I do what I love, have some great friends… and I get to spend my days with my favourite person? Doesn’t sound too bad to me.”
You crane your neck to look at him; your lips are so close to his, tilted into a smile that’s so unbelievably you. “You called me that last night, too.”
“Huh? Oh, that’s right. And… I mean it. Like. Now that you’re here, it’s even clearer somehow?”
“…How so?”
“Mmh… whenever I used to get home, I’d think of what to eat and of showering and going to sleep. And when I come home now, the first thing I think of is you. What we’d cook tonight. Or what we might watch or talk about. You’re…”
He feels your chest rise under his limbs; a sigh of fondness as he knows it best.
“You’re the one I want to spend all my time with.” He pauses when you look at your blanket-covered lap, hiding your twinkling eyes. “So it’s clear.”
“You always sound so hopelessly…”
You halt mid-sentence, the touch against your arm tensing — much like his own heart, jumping to the next beat with a heavy thud. You shake your head; Jungkook doesn’t get to dwell in further thoughts… still doesn’t have the words for them yet.
Or doesn’t want to admit them yet.
If he thought about them long enough and arrived at a conclusion, would you think he’s rushing your relationship? Would it scare you?
Better not find out yet.
So he lets you talk and listens, “Anyway. So, is there anything, like… more? That you want to achieve someday? Or that you think of sometimes before you go, that’s still left for me to do.”
How fitting.
Pretending to be sinking into thoughts, Jungkook hums, letting his chest vibrate against your back, and then answers truthfully, “Yeah? Maybe a couple things. We’ll see them with time when I gather the courage to tackle them.”
“Like what?”
“Hmm… am I allowed to say that already?” More simulations, teasing you with a fake distant gaze and a hissing inhale of air. “I’m not sure. You’ll know.”
“Hey! That makes me nervous.”
“No need.” You interrupt his speech with another sound of disapproval, pulling a dorky, infectious chortle out of him; his nose scrunches up. “I’m kidding. I’m talking about all the goals I have for my career. I don’t want to stop, no matter what. Keep going and keep striving for more.”
You nod; someone as hard-working as you would understand. In a sense, you’re a role model to him, too — a sentiment that you, as you have often emphasised, reciprocate.
Yet, you advise, “Just don’t overwork. Think of Icarus! We can’t always get more than more, you know? There’s happiness in satisfaction with what we have, too. But either way…” You angle your legs, pulling them close; cuddling into him more. “I’ve got your back.”
And perhaps that’s one of the gazillion traits he cherishes so much about you.
Your position at work is reputable and treasured, and you could easily push him to work harder, too. Could want him to match your career success, because it’s more or less guaranteed for you.
But you don’t. You stand by his side, prioritising his happiness and mental strength, albeit unaware of how his future might turn out. When you say you’ve got his back, he believes you.
“I know,” he says, lips in your hair, breathing you in. “Yeah… I know.”
“Hmmm… okay,” you move on, “what about me? Do you have any expectations? Certain standards and rules? I just,” you reach forward, tugging the blanket over your chest and his arm, “I feel like that’s something one should talk about. Tell me if it’s too much, though.”
“No, you’re right. But honestly? Is it… is it weird to say that you’ve kinda become a standard?”
“…I— What do you mean?”
“I just mean that… I’m never going to tell you that I expect you to be loyal and kind because it’s the bare minimum, right? Who doesn’t want all that? I know you are, so I don’t need to say it. So I don’t have any other expectations from you; these things are already the foundation of our relationship. Just. Mmh, how do I say it?”
He thinks for a moment, but you’re nodding, as if you’ve already understood. But his thoughts don’t end here; they’re just difficult to word. In his mind, they’re clear, but upon having to express them, he doesn’t quite understand the concept of language anymore.
Curses its limitations.
But then, as emotions gingerly gather to a coherent sentence at last, he tries to explain:
“Rather than adhering to any rules or standards I could have, I feel like you’re building them for me. You make me have a type, you know?” He feels you dissolve in his arms as he taps between your clavicles. “And that’s you. I don’t want anyone if I can’t have you.”
Did he go off track? Possibly. But you don’t seem to mind.
Because your voice is painfully sweet and miniscule when you speak, on the brink of losing the fight against the tremble, “But you have me. Pinky promise that you do, for a long, long time.”
Yeah… yeah, he does. And he’d be damned if he let this go.
Because if he ever did — if he ever so foolishly lost you again after combating these cruel storms, you’d still remain his standard. He’d look for you in each face passing, and in every laugh sounding.
The blueprint. And an everlasting memory.
Does it make sense? He doesn’t know.
And it doesn’t matter anyway. You’re right here.
“I’ll take your pinky promises,” he says, overjoyed as he crosses his legs over your shins, peppering more kisses onto your cheeks, the corner of your eyes, on your ear. He speaks in between your sighs and quiet laughs, “What about you? What do you want?”
“I… I don’t think I’ve ever had any expectations either, but. The wedding and—” You hesitate, as if considering dropping whatever you were going to list; and then you start anew, “The wedding made me think, and I— I just want to have so much fun with you.”
“Yeah? Tell me about it.”
“I want all the ordinary things we do to feel special because it’s us doing them. And I don’t ever want us to regret anything, so… I want us to be brave.”
“Brave? Well, you’re already the strongest and bravest person I know.”
“Braver. I want to live without restraints. And I don’t want to overthink anymore.”
Hmm…
Jungkook has seen your jumbled up thoughts before. The pain you cause to your mind sometimes, and the zoned out eyes painting pictures of what you fear the most.
He knows that feeling. Has battled one too many beasts to lessen the ache; even if it’s not always possible. Even if he seeks reassurances sometimes, too. And maybe that’s the prominent and sole reason why he never dismisses your disquiet.
Why push you away if you’re already at an impasse? Why not lead you out of the maze?
“Take it easy, okay?” he soothes, letting his grip around you fall bit by bit to search for your fingers instead. “Restraints can’t beat us.”
“Yeah! I’m hopeful.”
“You should be.” Because thinking of all you’ve fought within the span of a couple weeks… “You’re the first person to show me that there’s no reason to be scared, you know?”
“Then…” You sit up, curling your fingers around his hand, lifting it mid-air in sudden eagerness. “Just imagine how life could go, right? We could go to the ocean. Oh.” You gasp, sucking in air. “Oh my god! The Great Barrier Reef!”
“Ohhh, that’s actually a solid bucket list item. And then, bungee jumping?”
You nod zealously; lacking your fingers’ mobility required to list things, you instead knock your intertwined hands against your thigh each time to come up with something new. Like now, “Cliffs. And northern lights, too. I’ve always wanted to see them.”
Reflexively, you look up.
Stare at the glued-on stars from last night, and the now missing projection you dozed off to. An effective visual lullaby; you didn’t even stir when Jungkook turned it off, tucking you in properly. In your blanket; in him.
“Hell yes,” Jungkook confirms.
“But the first stop’s your hometown… and the wedding. I want to meet your family and be super awkward about it.”
Jungkook laughs, forehead falling forward against your head. He shakes it for a second, and then recalls, “Ah… so chickens and family awkwardness. What else?”
He didn’t expect this to work out before he asked you. Considering you’ve barely started at Novaura, he anticipated gentle rejection. But now that it’s become a certain event in the incredibly near future, his heart pounds every time you mention it.
Because…
You in a dress. You in his house. You, dominating over every single heart that’s dear to him.
And it seems you’ve already thoroughly thought about this, because your answer shoots out of you like a bullet, “Wanna dance with you. And kiss you under the lights.”
“Angel… you’re over the moon about this, aren’t you?”
“…Too obvious?”
You allow a fleeting glance back to him before your eyes fall down to his bare arm, ending in a hand clinging to yours; covered in ink, much like the rest of his right limb. He knows you’re staring at the flowers without asking.
And as if knowing, reading your soul, he doesn’t find himself surprised when you suggest, “And then… one day… What do you think? Should I get a tattoo someday, too?”
“Totally, if that’s what you want. What would you wanna get?”
“Flowers to match? I don’t know. Maybe you can draw on me. Here,” you lead his hand to your thigh, sticking there for a while until you move up to your hip. “Or here.”
He wonders how focused your thoughts are right now. Because if they are, and you’re not fixating on the changes of his skin, you probably won’t register the countless goosebumps under his tattoos.
A giddy sensation spreads throughout his body, collecting in his chest and tummy. Memories of a nearly bare body, painted in his dozen colours returning. And then, pictures of the same hues blurring, smudging.
He breathes an exhale, insane at the thought of kissing those lines. Of lips trailing up your skin, stopping at your hip, dying a pleasant death.
Fuck.
“I… I would. I’ll paint you any day.”
His words come out more airy than intended, fingers itching to pinch your chin, to move your face to his. To slide down the mattress, to kiss your lips swollen, making out with you until the sun sets…
But the world is cruel and too real; the clock still ticks until he realises that freezing in place isn’t an option right now. So he says, “As much as I hate to say this… You should get ready for work.”
You groan; there’s something sweet about your unwillingness to go. Relatable. And it sticks until the exhaustion washes away with each second. Small breakfast in, clothes on, newfound work spirit restored.
Must be a good day approaching. 
And you’ve been enjoying the recent ones, he assumes. Despite being so good at what you do, there’s a clear difference in how you tackle a day at Charmante versus at Novaura.
And you confirm it when he accompanies you to the entrance, bidding you goodbye until you meet again later, “What I love most about Novaura is that they don’t feel the need to communicate everything with Mom. They’re their own independent world and trust themselves.”
“Right… You as someone equally independent will fit right in, so they’re lucky to have you there. Makes me wonder, though.” Jungkook pauses, watching you grab your jacket from the wall hook, “Are your Charmante people okay with you being at Novaura so much?”
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A COUPLE DAYS LATER
“…I really don’t know if I can do this.”
Well, shit. Wasn’t he ready to strive for more, run endlessly until his feet tired? Where is the dread suddenly emerging from?
Jungkook has barely set his sketchbook down when lightning bolts head for him.
Countering his concern with kissing eyebrows, Namjoon’s full lips purse, dimples gone as he wonders, “What are you even talking about?” — Much at the same time as you utter a threatening, “Shut up,” pastry lifted, ready to throw at him.
Jungkook shies away from the table, ready to dodge your attack; returning when you place the crumbly croissant back on your plate. He presses his lips together before smacking and kissing them, finger rolling the pen over his sketches, but eyes fixated on Namjoon’s notebook.
“I’m serious. There’s so much to do until November, and I… how do I get so much done?”
“But,” Namjoon knocks against the random drawing open on the table, “you already have so much to show. And you can revamp stuff from college, too. Besides, it’s okay to try your best and be scared at the same time, Jungkook! That’s part of a growing artist’s job.”
“But, are you sure I’m a growing artist?!”
Namjoon mutters something under a breath, and you add something unintelligible to the reassuring mix. Jungkook’s worried gaze remains on the rough lines of pencil on paper, teeth repeatedly nibbling his lower lip. Baring his mole.
He closes the sketchbook, staring at the golden, imprinted letters on a dark black background. He’s filled a quarter of it already; the very piece you gifted him for his birthday almost a month ago.
In some way, opening to a blank page serves as inspiration alone. You furnished him with something so simple yet gorgeous; thoughtful engraving to use as a reminder to hold onto his efforts.
But…
Amidst the lasting zeal, he’s been racking his brain. Because. What if he immerses himself in this, spending hours tainting his fingertips in different tints — only to steer towards failure?
What if it doesn’t work out? And he ends up not amounting to much, other than trying his luck online and living on a bare minimum of a salary? Would he start tutoring young, aspiring artists?
And you…
You’re diving into a stable job, well-paid, well-known. If you end up carrying both of you on your shoulders… would you think of him as a washout? Grow frustrated and dissatisfied?
You’ve been repeatedly declaring your unswerving support, but what if you some day do realise that…
Ugh.
He stuck to this passion with the full knowledge he would never fall out of love with it; but now that he’s working for his dreams, the process seems so scary all of a sudden.
“And I’m at the wedding, too…” he says.
He leans back in his chair, moving his pupils away from the paper and instinctively up to you. More concerns threaten to tumble off the tip of his tongue, but when your eyes suddenly flicker with disappointment, his lips shut again.
You blink, unsure, before you ask, “Do you… not want to go? We could totally stay here if you need the time.”
Oh… 
Hadn’t you gushed about the event day in, day out now, he would’ve maybe believed your words. And in some sense, you probably do think of the alternative as okay, as long as he profits from it.
But he sees it in your eyes. And not just in yours — he’s been as enthralled by the idea as you. Which is why…
“No,” he responds, “no. We will go.”
Because the prospect of winding down with you has been keeping him sane. Doting on you under the countryside stars, showing you all you haven’t seen before, body to body dancing with you…
He’s not missing out on that, no matter what.
And god knows you need the break, too… especially after the utter hysteria last Friday…
“Kook, think about it. You need to be absolutely sure,” you argue, genuine worry in your gaze; from his side eye, he sees Namjoon nod in confirmation.
“I am. We’ll go, baby, okay?”
You don’t avert your gaze; your mouth closes a little, but you stay unblinking, waiting for his mind to change. He knows because he sees the thoughts floating at the surface of your eyes.
Like you’re still pondering; of course you are. As someone who’s been working hard for their career, even if just for a few months, you’d know. Who’d understand if not you?
The trance lingers between the two of you, and Jungkook lifts his lips, a vow and certainty in his smile. Moment only broken when Namjoon clears his throat and encourages once more, “Give it a shot, Jungkook… Those high-profile people need to see what you’re capable of! I mean, we’re so lucky to have them coming to our exhibits.”
Namjoon gestures randomly, across the small restaurant as he says, “Say what you will about this city, but we lure in quite a few esteemed artists for sure.”
“Who says something about this city?” you ask.
“I do,” Namjoon’s voice is soothing. One thing Jungkook has learned about him is that his flowery mind never rests. Lyrical; not always easy to understand. “I love and hate it. Leaving it, living it.”
He pauses, sipping on his diet coke before smacking the taste away and ordering, “Ask me anytime if you need any help, alright? And be confident.”
“And… what if it does work?”
Your gentle laugh sounds from the opposite side of the table, the straw of your milkshake on your tongue. The rhythmic melody calms something deep in him; perhaps more because he understands your reaction.
You’re just as cute worrying about things that he knows you’d ace.
“Well,” Namjoon starts, aware that Jungkook knows; still annihilating his unease, “the guy is ready to buy your art. If it goes well, he’ll sponsor you. Then, at some point, you’ll be able to afford your own studio and grow as an artist. Ideally.”
“Ah… ah, really…”
”Kookie,” your voice calls; you lean over the round table, shoving the milkshake aside, “don’t worry. And in the most unlikely case that it doesn’t go as planned, know that I’ll cheer you on either way.”
“And me too,” Namjoon raises a hand.
Your finger swings to and fro between Namjoon and you, and your expression changes from empathic and soft to the sweetest, most gut-wrenching smile he’s ever seen. The apples of your cheeks lift, pupils sparkling when you vow, “We’re here for you.”
He…
He could look at you all day, blinking be damned. Could pour out his emotions every second of every minute of every hour, and it’d still not match the endless letter his heart keeps crafting for you. 
Disregarding how much of a shipwreck the two of you were last Friday, his chest has still lightened ever since; an epiphany has never been sweeter.
Because…
The words he couldn’t compose into a poem before are now an ardent confession, with rhymes and a melody and infinite beauty. Roaming his mind nonstop, caught in that baby pink bubble.
When had his senses last heightened this much?
Because somehow, he still feels the damp trail of tears he cried that night. And the heart that beat against your cheek. You, frozen against him, processing his words.
If there are ways to make him fall in love harder, you’ve been presenting them all the goddamn time.
And fuck, it’s been hard focusing on anything but you.
Like, on paying. Or on upholding a conversation with Namjoon — assuring him he’d be back in the studio in a bit as he prepares to bid you goodbye for the day.
To his chagrin, the walk to your car isn’t long. It’s parked at a corner, convenient for lunch dates like these; you promised you’d join one with Joon at some point, and you did. Forty-five minutes passed too quickly. Felt like a moment.
“Namjoon is so nice!” you comment, hands in the pockets of your denim jacket.
You keep swaying back and forth, from your heels to your toes and back. Your smile and movements suggest a free spirit, but your risen shoulders and the shallow crease between your eyebrows drench you in something tense.
You’ve been like that since you suggested staying, focusing on his work.
“He’s so wise, too, really,” Jungkook responds, close to you in case your swinging moves leave you tumbling, “like, a cool mix between calm and dorky. I’ve been learning so much from him.”
“Jeon Jungkook and his love for his mentor. You will never stop talking about him.”
Jungkook shrugs, a hand to the nape of his neck, face warming, “He’s cool, what can I say?”
“Yeah.”
And once again… he sees you gulp. Unsure, pupils flickering. You usually don’t struggle maintaining eye contact. So he soon wonders, “Are you okay? I… I hope you didn’t misunderstand what I said earlier. I really do want to go to the wedding.”
“Hm?” you voice, chin lifting a bit before you dispute, “Oh. No, I believe you. If you say it’s okay, then that’s how it is.”
“What then?”
“What do you mean? Do I really seem like something’s up?”
“A little.”
“Uhm…”
You roll up your eyes as you dig into your thoughts. Scouring your brain for whatever might be meandering in the back of your mind. Hm… seems you’re not fully cognisant of the subtle change in your behaviour, either?
So maybe, it means nothing after all.
Then again. It must be something.
Because in hindsight, he didn’t only notice today, but all weekend, too—
Oh…
Maybe you’re just getting used to the new developments; maybe they’re just making you a bit bashful like him. Maybe…
Okay. Deep breath. He just needs to make it sound like a joke, nothing pushy or odd or awkward because—
“Or is it because I told you I love you? Have I scared you off already?”
He watches your breathing stop. As though flexing an x-ray stare, watching your lungs dry up, air stuck in your throat until it escapes through your nose. Honestly… he’s been feeling the same.
“No!” you answer, tone breathy, pulling a hand out of the pocket to sprightly push at his shoulder. He barely budges. “Of course not. All that does is make me want to faint.”
Jungkook chuckles, delighted when your laugh matches his own. He doesn’t always know how to take a compliment either; but you fix your speechlessness with that glow on your face. Fills his own body with fairy dust, too. 
His dimples are valleys when your fingers move to his open jacket, grazing the zipper and filling the seconds with quiet tenderness. He doesn’t know what to say to you until you let the silence prolong and then giggle into it once more.
If he could just dive into your brain. But all he has are his own, messy thoughts.
And those tangled thoughts say—
“Angel… Can I kiss you?” Now his lungs are collapsing, too. Worse, so much worse when you look into his eyes, still so surprised at every sliver of affection he signs. “I really want to kiss you right now.”
No… he needs to. Needs to blossom in this breezy weather. But he won’t tell you that.
He’ll just keep looking at you. One second, two seconds — until you’ve raised your hands to the collar of his jacket to move him closer, soon sneaking your touch further up to his neck. A miniscule and wordless hint of approval, and he basks in it avidly.
Twitching palms hesitate for only the subtlest of moments before they’ve dashed up to your cheeks, cupping your face and leaning in and…
Lock.
A picture of a lock. And of its key.
The first thing to flash into his mind.
Because how do his lips fit so perfectly between yours? When you touch him like this, delicate fingers caressing his jaw, how do you feel so much like a feather? And the damn way you sigh into his mouth… how you reciprocate the kiss.
He will never tire of telling you, telling himself, that you match him just like the ocean complements the shore. And it’s baffling. How perfect this feels, and how right it feels.
You do make the ordinary extraordinary.
Like a kiss that is shared a million times a day, between so, so many people. But you’re moving your lips against his. Holding onto him, tilting your head, soaking in his warmth. Going tentatively, then a bit faster, then slow again.
For the merest moments when your mouths part, you gasp, inhaling before pushing your fingers into his hair, at the back of his head. Then back against him, seeking his tongue; such soft sounds meeting his that he swears he could cry.
Cry about the shiver down his spine and the flutter in the pit of his stomach. About the world becoming a backdrop to everything in the middle of the pavement; and about how his thoughts only revolve around your shared breaths and the feeling of your warm cheeks. 
Just you.
You, you, you.
Still too far away. Why do you drive him so incredibly mad?
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He loves you. He loves you.
Under a breath and against your soft pillows, he mutters your name; so airy that he barely recognises his voice. His tongue drags over your lower lip, pecking one more time before he establishes an intruding distance between you.
Your foreheads touch for a transient bit, thumb skimming your cheek. When he opens his eyes, yours are still shut, and you’re feeble in his grip. And then, he asks, “What’s wrong?”
You swallow again. Take a breath before admitting, “You’re right. There’s something I want to ask you, and I was so stupidly… nervous about it.”
“Yeah?”
“The whole gang, they… they’ve been planning something. They paid for it and all, but they’re waiting for me to give them an answer, so they know if I need to pay them back or if they should cancel or, or—”
He interrupts your ramble with a soft, “Tell me, babe.”
“Okay,” your eyelids finally open up; your gaze is so hazy when you look at him. “It’s a trip. Four days, three nights, during the wedding week.” He hasn’t said a word when you hurry to add, “But, we can leave earlier. It’s a road trip kinda thing to the mountains and the beach and. They want us there, too.”
”Oh.”
“…Yeah.”
“I… Baby.” He moves back, shaking his head. He was careful not to ruin your hair, well aware you have half a work day ahead of you; but he still brushes a strand back. “Were you and Eun talking about that two weeks ago?”
“Yeah. And Tae also said I should be the one to ask because you’d like that. But then things happened and all the stress and…”
“But… even before that. Why were you so nervous asking me about it for so long?”
“Because,” you answer, one shrug of your shoulders, “I wanted to wait and see how you feel about the exhibition and the workload. And you already have limited time because of the wedding and I didn’t want to take away more of it.”
He can’t help but beam; why does this feel… endearing? Mirrors his own thoughts when he asked you about accompanying him to the wedding.
“We really do have the same brain, don’t we?” he asks.
“You’d think we’d learn.”
You say it lightheartedly, yet gnaw on your lips. He tongues the inside of his cheek, keeping eye contact, and then queries, “There’s something else, right?”
“Ah, just.”
You look unsure, trying to make sense of your thoughts, but your uncertainty makes him uncertain, too. So he exhales before he prods, “What? What what? Is it something bad?”
“No! Just. They’ve been wanting to do this since the summer. They never talked about it to me because you and I were… you know.” You kiss your teeth, and he uses the second to whoosh away the aching memories. “But they never cancelled for us, either.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because they’d say, and I quote, ‘Just wait.’ They knew we couldn’t stay away from each other even before we did.” You laugh. “Eun told me that day in the kitchen.”
Even before you did?
Untrue. He knew he didn’t want to live without you the moment you left his apartment, tear-soaked and heartbroken.
“Okay…” he starts, “and you were worried because?”
“Because you always get so sad when I talk about the summer. Explaining the context of the trip seemed hard to me, and I didn’t want you to feel guilty.”
Oh…
Shit, man.
“You’re… ahhh… my sweet baby.” He wants to hug you to his chest and never let go. But you’re already running out of time, lunch break nearing its end, so he only grips your shoulders. “You know that it gets better after two minutes, no? Because whatever happened, I have you now.”
He flicks your chin as he has been lately; it cheers you up. Makes you smile a bit, conjures the pout away. Adding to the effect when he says, “Don’t worry so much, my love.”
Another inhale. Then, you admit, “I’m sorry. I dragged it out.”
“It’s okay.”
“So… would you come? Do you think you could take some time off work and all? I’d understand if it’s too much.”
“Hmm… Right before the wedding, isn’t it?”
“Mid-october, yes. We could leave earlier!” you reiterate, hellbent on assuring he’s not obligated to do anything. So sweet, how you scratch your head. “They’d drive on. It’s convenient because it’s all in the same week.”
“Mountains and beach, you say.”
“If you don’t like them, we can stay at the hotel and chill together.”
Shit.
His grin widens with each heartbeat; you notice, because despite your suggestions, you sound more lively now.
And yet, it’s funny you’d question all these things like this at all. Don’t you remember damp cheeks and gentle touches?
Just days ago.
How he was still trembling when you left Eun’s complex. How he stopped you before climbing into the car, much like now, mumbling a timid, “Angel…”
And then retracting when his heart combusted. Looking into your eyes, still red, his own mind filled with nervous fear before settling on, “Nothing. Let’s go home.”
Or how you cried in the living room. How you broke down, terrified he might walk away. How his breath quivered, how his head spun, how he felt like he might throw up or faint or scare you off.
The damn sickness in his stomach until he spat the hidden words for the first time. And the pounding of his heart when you responded with a mumbled, “Kook… How.”
And… how his chest constricted at everything that followed after that. Don’t you remember?
In spite of every indication he threw your way — you still worry so much.
Funny you’d be so nervous around someone who wants to see the entire world with your hand in his.
What did you call it again? Wanting to be brave.
So fucking easy with you.
“How about…” he begins, staring into anticipating eyes, hearing a storm of cheers rumble, “going shopping before we leave?”
Your demeanour changes momentarily. The unsure girl, afraid to hurt him, soon finds her way back to her foundation. You light up, a hand over your mouth; your cheeks must be hurting. 
You deliver one, short jump and then pull him back in, kissing his lips once before scattering a couple more pecks next to them. He soon finds himself pushing you towards your car, forcing you back to work, but you have a thousand things to babble about.
He’s adoring all the bright stars in your eyes — now he understands how you feel when you see the same universe in his.
It’s crazy. How effort is never required from your side for him to feel that way. How you only need to breathe and talk and smile and stay.
Stay stay stay.
The word sails and wafts through his dazy thoughts like a silent prayer. Begging and begging; pleading to allow him to pour all his love on you, although he doesn’t need to ask. You always let him anyway.
And he guesses he’s using that permission thoroughly. Maybe that’s why keeps craving and burning for more; why he’s been holding you tighter these nights.
His tiger lily pressed against your heart.
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*head in hands* they are so crazy for each other, pls 😭 warmth and reassurances and support and bickering literally build the foundation of their relationship and i love them sm :') for some reason the editing process knocked me out, but i still adore this one so so much, and i hope you guys did, too!! 🥺
feedback is always so so appreciated!! you guys are literally such a freaking supportive bunch and have kept this series alive for so long and i love you to death :( here's to the first one this year!! as always, please consider leaving a like, reblog (with or without feedback!), comments and spammm my inbox with everything that's on your mind hehe <3 any kind of msg makes my day!
and nowww!!!!! moving on to cmi: palette and VACAYYYY!!! mwah mwah 🤍
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starry-eyedblog · 6 months
Note
your favourite english girl here with a niche english girl request...
johnny coming back from a mission or somehow walking in on his english gf reader sleeping in an england football shirt after they just beat scotland? 👉👈
a bit of somno/nation play/fluffy ending if you feel like indulging me, please? 🥺
funny seeing you here bunny :3
making me write scotland loosing against england is painful, but for you i’ll indulge. got a real thing for scottish people degrading you for being english eh? <3
warnings/tags: 18+ smut, somno, fingering, oral (blowjob), degrading, gagging, mean soap, degrading the english?? lol
johnny had been out at the pub, watching the game with his mates and he was upset to say the least. the game ended poorly, a 2-1 defeat against england that left him huffing. he only stayed for one more pint after the game, not in the mood to listen to the taunting of his english friends much longer.
he got out of the taxi, paying the fare as well as tip before he was walking into the house. he made quick work of kicking his shoes off and sauntering upstairs to the bedroom, a smile on his face as he saw you already snoring away under the covers.
johnny shrugged his jeans down and pulled his jacket and t-shirt off, dropping them to the floor to deal with in the morning before pulling the duvet back and crawling onto the bed. as the duvet came away from your sleeping form, he saw the english top you were wearing and a scoff left him. “cheeky .” he muttered quietly.
he looked up at your sleeping face, yanking the cover down further before his hand was running under the white top and resting at the waistband of your underwear. he wasted no time in slipping his hand into your underwear, gently tracing over your cunt. one thick finger was then sliding inside of you, working slow to not wake you yet.
you let out a soft sound, moving around slightly but you don’t wake, still sleeping peacefully as johnny teases your cunt. it doesn’t long before he’s growing more aggressive, adding a second finger as the english badge stares right at him.
memories of the mockery from his mates runs through his mind, watching his team loose on the bring screen and hearing those awful english chants. god he hated it all and soon he’s hissing above you, his other hand coming up to grab your face.
his fingers dig into your cheeks, pulling your head up and forcing your face into a pout as you wake up confused and dazed. hot pleasure seeps through you, faster than your brain can comprehend and you moan softly. “jo-johnny? when did you get, ahh.” you whimper, unable to finish your sentence as his fingers inside of you become meaner.
johnny digs his fingers into your g-spot with no remorse. “tryna rile me up, eh hen? wanted tae make me mad did ye aye? well ye got yer wish, english bastard.” he mutters, his eyes staring into yours as he pulls his hand away from your face and rests it on your inner thigh.
his words and aggressive tone send a shiver down your spine and cause wetness to seep from your stuffed hole, soaking his fingers more. “fuck johnny,” you gasp out as your head drops back slightly into the pillow again.
“bet ye were real happy with the result.” he grumbles, fingers pressing even harder into your g-spot. he’s rough, ploughing his fingers in and out of your soaking cunt.
you try to respond but it just feels too good, especially when his thumb presses to your twitching clit. a cry leaves you at that moment, hips bucking up for more. “wanna cum?” he asks, looking up at you with dark eyes and you nod frantically. “yes yes, please johnny c’mon please.” you whine.
johnny adds more pressure to your clit, his fingers still thrusting meanly. “shame, should’ve thought about that before ye wore that mingin’ top.” he utters, leaning forward and spitting directly on the badge of the english football top.
his fingers then leave your sopping wet cunt, no longer touching you at all as he pulls back and leans on his knees that cage your legs in. you let out a soft whine, squirming underneath him, so so desperate to cum. “s’jus a game johnny!” you complain, looking up at him with puppy eyes but it won’t work on him now.
“oh just a game aye?” he chuckles, looking at you as he pulls his boxers down enough to free his cock. “open yer mouth, fuckin whore.” he almost growls, moving up closer so the tip of his leaking cock presses against your bottom lip.
you do as he says, dropping your mouth open and welcoming his thick cock in. a low groan of pleasure leaves him, his head tipping back as both his hands come to cradle your head and keep you in place.
“gonna take everything i gie ye or yer gettin hee haw.” johnny hisses, sliding his cock further into your mouth. you moan around him, trying your best to nod but it’s impossible with his strong grip. your hands come up to grab at his bare thighs, holding on tightly.
soon enough he’s thrusting in and out of your mouth, enjoying the way you gag and sputter around him. “you fuckin english dinnae ken when tae shut yer gobs. have tae fill them, use them for somethin more worthwhile eh?” he chuckles, cruelly catching you off guard by roughly thrusting all the way forward so the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat.
you gag loudly, tears streaming down your face as your mouth is pressed all the way to his groin, his curly pubes brushing against your face. it’s not long before johnny is letting out more groans and whines, signalling he’s close.
he continues to use and abuse your mouth, giving no mercy as he soaks up all the pleasure. and then without warning, he’s cumming straight down your throat, keeping his cock in your mouth. “fuck hen, there ye go.” he groans as his eyes flutter shut.
you take it all, crying and whining as you swallow down every last drop. once he’s finished, johnny slowly pulls back and watches his spit slicked cock slide out of your mouth. oh and what a sight it is. his cock tries to give an interested twitch against his thigh but he’s too spent right now.
johnny trails his thumb over your bottom lip, smearing his cum and your spit on your face and you look up at him with teary eyes. “all the english are good for, suckin cock n crying.” he whispers and you feel your cunt pulse and leak more slick into your underwear.
after cleaning you up and changing you, johnny pulls you into his arms and cradles you into his chest in bed. “wasnae too rough was i?” he asks softly, combing his fingers through your hair and you smile against his bare chest under the duvet. “enjoyed it.” you whisper and he laughs softly.
“ye ken i didnae mean all of that, aye lass?” he says and you nod against him. “i know, just dirty talk.” you respond, looking up at him and your eyes meet one another. “couldnae ever think of my bonnie girlfriend like that. yer brilliant.” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and you glow.
“does that mean i can cum tonight then?” you cheekily ask and soap raises a brow. “pushin yer luck pet.” he jokes, the two of you laughing in one another’s embrace.
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hope-drunk · 1 year
Note
can you imagine abby kissing away your tears? or her reassuring kisses ❤️‍🩹 need her in my life as soon as possible
sobbb she's so cute 😞 (this gets kind of violent because abby gets mad so tw for gun & killing owen mention)
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when you come back from an awful patrol, all you want to do is lay down in your bed and cry, and that's exactly what you do. it was rare that you got scheduled on a patrol without abby, but today was one of those days, and you were paired with owen, nonetheless.
he had yelled at you multiple times, even when you weren't making mistakes; you just weren't doing things his way. so, naturally, he felt the need to scream in your face about it, because it was owen.
you silently sob into the plushie that abby had brought back from one of her patrols. the tears flow cruelly down your cheeks; in other words, you weren't a pretty sight to see.
you barely hear the door open, abby shuffles in; sees you turned on your side and hears your sniffles.
"oh, baby," she says while walking over to you. she takes a seat on the bed, quickly rubbing a hand up and down your back. "what happened?"
the thought of explaining only makes you cry harder, which startles abby. she's never seen you so worked up.
"alright, shh. hey, can you calm down, sweetheart? m'trying to help you."
"i know!" you say through your blubbering tears, it's so whiny that abby's back straightens; she has to fight the urge to correct your tone, knowing that you're in a delicate headspace.
she continues to be gentle with you; waits for the crying to get quieter. she leans down every once in a while to drop a kiss to your temple. she frowns slightly at the tight hold you have on the stuffed animal. she remembers how happy you were when she brought it back to you. a plush bunny that somehow only had some dust on it.
"can we please talk? wanna help you feel better."
you turn towards her; push her up into the headboard and curl into her lap, "was on patrol and— owen yelled at me, like a lot, and i wasn't even doing anything wrong! he just— wouldn't stop yelling. was s'bad." you say, whispering the last part as the tears start to well up again. "sorry, don't mean to cry so much."
"don't apologize, please." she says, gathering her thoughts. her heart is racing, she's trying to keep calm and not kill owen, but she almost does. she wants to lay you down on the bed and checkout a rifle and go to his room; remind him to never speak to her girl like that again. she knows she can't though; knows she needs to comfort you instead. "i'm sorry he did that, bunny. you don't deserve that, and i know that you weren't doing anything wrong. been on patrol with you plenty of times to know that you know how to do your job. god, he's such a fucking asshole."
you nod your head in agreement. a yawn slips out of your mouth; the patrol and the crying exhausting you.
"that's alright, you can sleep. when you wake up i'll talk to isaac. let him know you're not gonna be paired with owen anymore."
you drift off with the knowledge that abby will always protect you. that she'll always be there to comfort you and face any confrontation that you don't want to deal with. and that's all you've ever needed.
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jesterwriting · 7 months
Note
(for that timeloop post,, uhm this relates to the whole body horror thing ((not too much just a brief mention)) so if rn u don't wanna see that SCROLL AWAY!!! OR DELETE ME!! OK disclaimer ends here)
oh man but what if Law did say room anyway and there were impossible scars on your insides... like littered everywhere, they're not fresh but old, almost phantoms that make no sense, because if they were real you would've died. how would he react to that? maybe not when he noticed them crying but after weeks or months, dunno, where they keep skipping his more thorough check-ups (where he uses his devil fruit) since they're anxious about the pains? and think that somehow there are signs of their previous deaths and the mention of them makes it hurt more and more and they just can't do it. but they can't bring themselves to say it because who could possibly believe them? if Law doesn't, it would just feel even worse, won't it? even if they understand his point of view. maybe they even die in front of him and it gets harder to just hold all of that in,,, oh boy. if you think about continuing your oneshot i'll eat it like a starving animal!
pairing: law x gn!reader
contents: slight body horror, slight gore, timeloops, suicide done to restart the loop, hurt/comfort, happy ending,
word count: 1.6k words
note: OHHHHH I LOVED THIS IDEA OH MY GOD. absolutely so smart. anon your mind is huge and i had so much fun doing this request. <33 i really hope you enjoy :33
playlist: caribou - tanya tagaq
a sister fic to this
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This had never happened before. You had experienced hundreds of loops, maybe even thousands, and this was the first time Law saw fit to scan you with his Devil Fruit.
Maybe you were getting sloppy. You had a strong immune system so you never got sick, and the first time Law scanned you for your general checkup upon joining the crew, there was nothing of note. You wondered what changed, as if you hadn’t died more times since you joined his crew than you had in your entire life. Maybe it was because the more you suffered, the more reckless you became, throwing yourself into the fray with little regard for yourself. You could take a bullet for your crewmates, so you would. It was as simple as that.
There was a first time for everything, you supposed. A first death, a first breath, a first kill; there were uncountable firsts that one could experience, and you had experienced most of them.
Not this one, though.
You had tried to avoid it for as long as possible. Your captain was a man who carried burdens, ones almost as heavy as the ones on your shoulders. If he knew how many times he failed you — or how many times you failed him — you knew he would take all the blame for himself. As if you hadn’t been the one lying, and fighting, and dying over the course of countless lifetimes.
Law blinked a few times before his brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed. You fidgeted under his stare. If his reaction was anything to go by, he found something horribly wrong with you. While you had experienced slow deaths before, you had never experienced what it felt like to waste away from disease. Maybe you’d find out this loop, you thought, trying to feel nonchalant about the idea and not like you were about to throw up.
“Um. What’s wrong,” You tried.
Law shushed you, the blue glow from his room still surrounding you. You bit your tongue, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt to try and take your mind off of whatever he could have found.
“This can’t be right,” He muttered, one hand cradling his chin. He pointed to your chest. “There’s a scar inside of you, it looks like a puncture wound through your lungs. When did that happen?”
Three loops ago when you fell off a building and onto some rebar. That was a particularly awful death. The last thing you remembered before everything went black was Law’s panicked expression as he tried to put you back together again. There was terror in his eyes. You tried not to think about that part.
“And here,” Law continued, pointing to your abdomen. “There’s a scar running across the length of your stomach. It almost looks as if you were previously disemboweled.”
You had been. Multiple times. It was a common and very disturbing loop ender that you tried to avoid if you could. Watching your organs fall out of you in a steaming heap was never something you liked to experience, but for some reason, your opponents kept aiming for the gut. You wished they’d aim for the heart or the head more often. At least then it’d be quick.
He didn’t stop there, jaw falling open when he stared directly where your heart was. “When were you stabbed, Y/N-ya, this looks recent.” Law blinked a few times before realization dawned on his features. His eyes shot to your face, expression going from open to unreadable in seconds. “How did you survive without my intervention?”
Your mouth was dry. How were you supposed to respond? There was no way you could tell him that you had died on his watch more times than you could count. Law didn’t deserve that. Your captain was a good man, one you loved admired far too much to allow this to weigh him down. He would take your failures to heart, completely discounting the amount of times that he had saved you from having to start anew.
You must have been quiet for too long because Law was speaking again. “Answer me.”
“It’s from a long time ago,” You said.
That was a lie. It was from the previous loop. A quick death by your own hand over the cold corpse of your captain. If Law didn’t survive, there was no point in continuing, and if there was one thing you had grown accustomed to, it was taking your own life after one loss too many. You knew how to make it quick, no suffering. So with a precise hand, you drove your knife into your chest and let the timeline begin anew.
When you saw Law again, whole and alive, you vomited. You were under the impression that he believed that you simply ate some bad seafood, but from the concern that was slowly etching its way onto his features, you weren’t so sure of that now.
“Don’t lie to me.” Law’s eyes flashed, barely contained frustration needling at the corners of him. “None of this makes any sense, half of these injuries should have killed you. The other half would have needed to be treated.”
The truth sat on the tip of your tongue. You felt selfish and needlessly cruel for your desire to tell Law what was really happening. Your eyes burned, and their glassy sheen didn’t go unnoticed. Law handed you a tissue, expression softening.
“I- um.” You hated how your voice cracked. It had been a long time since you told someone about your Devil Fruit. You always died, and they always forgot. For a long time, you thought it was better that way, carrying this weight on your own. The way Law looked at you, though, it made you want to pour your soul out to him. Every pain, every loss, every death lain at his feet, and for once, you could stand unburdened. “It’d be wrong of me to tell you.”
Law’s eyebrows knit together. “Now you’re being stupid.”
“No, I’m not. You’ll regret asking once you know. Don’t pretend like you don’t carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, you don’t deserve my troubles on top of that. It’s better for both of us if you just forget what you saw.”
With that, you stood and made to brush past Law and out of the room. He grabbed you by the shoulder, not allowing you to go any farther. Though his grip was firm, it didn’t hurt. If you really wanted to, you could wrench yourself away from him.
“You’re trembling.”
Your lower lip wobbled, your resolve ebbing away by the second. “It’s complicated.”
“So tell me.” Law’s lips twitched upwards ever so slightly. “Doctor’s orders.”
You let out a small huff. He didn’t deserve this, but there would always be another loop. This current one hadn’t been going so well, and by your estimation, it would take at least three more before you managed to reach your next checkpoint. It wouldn’t hurt to tell Law what he inevitably wouldn’t remember. You steadied yourself with a deep breath and turned to face him, his eyes met yours with a mix of concern and exasperation.
“It’s my Devil Fruit,” You started. Law leaned back on his heels and crossed his arms, attention solely on you. Your heart thundered in your chest. “I’ve died so many times.” Without your permission, your breath hitched. Law’s hand encircled your own with a small squeeze, encouraging you to continue. “It, um, brings me back, I guess. I’ll die, and then wake up in the bunkhouse days earlier, and I’ll be the only one who remembers what happened. All those scars you saw were what killed me in a previous loop.”
He was silent while he chewed on his words.
“How many times have you died since you joined my crew,” Law finally asked.
Your hand was still in his and you gave it a squeeze. “That’s not fair. I know what you’re doing and I won’t let you do it.”
Law’s shoulders slumped as he brought his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I believe you. It explains a lot. I noticed you cry in your sleep sometimes.”
“You watch me sleep?” The tips of Law’s ears were tinged pink while you laughed.
“I was worried so I checked on you.” With a sigh, he began to lead you out of the clinic to his office. “Come on, you’re telling me everything you can remember. We’re going to come up with a plan.”
Humoring him, you followed close on his heels. It didn’t matter how long or how hard you planned, there was no accounting for the unpredictability of the universe. This comfort wouldn’t last long. Soon, you would be dead again and the cycle would start anew. That didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy sharing a space with your captain, listening to him meticulously craft tactics to keep you, and everyone else, alive.
It wasn’t until four days later you found yourself breathing, though covered head to toe in blood, with the rest of the crew. Everyone was safe and sound, and Law wouldn’t stop looking at you with a smirk on his face. When you found yourself next to him, he bumped his shoulder against yours.
“I told you my plan would work.”
Just like that, for the first time in your life, you were no longer alone.
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elsfairy · 1 year
Note
OMG OMG PLEASE I AM BEGGING YOUUUU. Could you do one were sevika is deeply in love with the reader and the reader loves her back BUT LIKE SEVIKA IS LIKE LOW-KEY RUDE TO HIDE HER FEELINGS and the reader is getting the wrong impression so Jinx tells sevika how the reader actually feels about her but sevika scares them to much AND THEN LIKE HOW SEVIKA WOULD APPROACH READER AND POUR HER HEART OUT .
I WOULD DIEEEEEEEEE FOR THIS WOMAN! I JUST WANNA SQUISH HER FACE BETWEEN MY HANDSSS AND KISS HER ALL OVER MY GOODNESS!
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───── ENDEARMENT.
Just a warning, I have never written a full somewhat fic in my life... so if this sucks I'm sorry, it's 3am, idk what im doing and I'm all over the place... I do hope you enjoy it tho<3
w/c: 1.7k
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Sevika didn't get crushes. That was something she barely even had time to think about. Of course that went straight out the window when you walked into the picture. With your bright smile, giddy charms, and beautiful fuckin face.
Sevika didn't get crushes.
She told herself that for months.
Over that time, she got to know you. How you prefer to wear something baggy and comfortable than something tight and suffocating. She learned that you are a great dancer when you're fuckin drunk out your mind. How you loved to pick flowers and give them to random people in the street. How selfless you were and loved to make people happy. How free you felt when you spoke about things you loved.
Sevika did not get crushes.
But no, the minute you giggled at something she didn't even think was remotely funny, you had her hooked. You had your claws dug deep right into her heart, and she didn't know what to do. She's never loved anyone before, how the fuck does she love someone? how does someone act so happy around her knowing what she does? who she is?
Sevika would be ruthless, she would push you away in any way possible just to protect her heart. Would slide snarky replies into conversation towards you. Would even go to the lengths of ignoring whatever it was that you told her, simply because she was fuckin scared to love someone. She never meant her words, but sometimes her mouth runs course by itself, and half the time it ends with a "Can you leave me the fuck alone?" never intentionally trying to hurt you, but she has never let anyone have her heart. How could she let someone so precious for this world have it?
She's never seen someone look so defeated, heartbroken, and overall done with life until she noticed those tears running down your pretty face. You've been nothing but kind and sweet to her, so why would she make you cry? why was she being mean to you when you've done nothing wrong? You didn't know, fuck, even she didn't really know why, all she knew was she thought she was protecting her heart. And somehow it ran away with you when you quickly stormed out of the Last Drop.
The thing was, she was in love with you. She loved the way you didn't care about anyone's opinion, but you cared deeply about hers. Just hers. She adored it when you would light up, a bright smile on your face at the mention of something you liked doing. She studied you, constantly. She loved when you would cover your face, hiding the blush coating your cheeks behind your locks at how she looked at you. Loved your smile. She thought you were so beautiful, yet she was the one who made you cry. She didn't like that.
You were intimidated by her, to say the least. She always had that cold, blank emotionless look in her eyes that pretty much said "Don't speak to me, or breath near me" but that just made you try harder. You loved that she could shut someone down with just a sigh. Loved that she could scare someone just for looking at her the wrong way. Loved how she didn't take shit from anyone. You were so in awe of her and then knowing she didn't even want to know you? That breaks your heart more than anything.
Jinx, as much as she could not stand Sevika with the fuckin life of her could tell just how much the situation upset you more than angered you. She wasn't stupid, god she was never stupid. You stayed in your room longer than necessary. Barely smiling when she saw you. You didn't even have the efforts to make yourself look presentable.
She upset you a week ago.
A week you have not stepped foot outside your apartment.
That blue-haired girl could always catch the Brute at random, awkward times, so it was no surprise she almost shoved the woman down the fuckin stairs, having some decency to not actually let her fall.
"God fucking damn it. Watch it, you little devil"
"Listen to me you Ogre. Do you understand how badly you have fucked up? I know you have a hard time seeing things because you're so old, but do you see what you've done?"
"Did you snort shimmer, or am I missing your point in this question?"
"Do you not see how much you upset them?"
As much as Jinx despised her, she wanted to fix this for the both of you. She could tell how much you adored Sevika just by how you watched her, how you watched the way she tucks the loose strands of hair behind her ear. How you eyed up the way her mechanical hand rested under her cloak, tucked away from everyone else, but you saw. And it just made you want to touch it. Brush your fingers lightly over the metal, to feel the low hum of the piece of art. Treasure it like she did.
Part of Sevika wanted to run back out of the office the second Jinx closed the door. Slightly worried she was going to either try fuckin ripping her arm off because of what she had said to you or scream, but the other part of her, wanted to listen. She needed to listen.. or just hear how you were. Jinx was also never one to sugarcoat shit. "You're both disgustingly in love with each other, I'm sick"
Of course, the Brute is going to deny it the minute those words are in the air. Denying she has any feelings towards you. Because it's what she does. She can't handle her own emotions most of the time. No matter how fuckin hard she tries, just hearing how much you adore her, how much she makes you feel safe, and how fucking cool she is, she can't help but finally let that frustrated sigh out. She hated how upset she made you. How she made you cry. Oh, the crying.. she hated herself.
"I know you are like so scary or whatever, but please fix it. God fix it, or ill hurt you"
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Rain. You never minded it, sometimes it just made you feel content with the world around you. You loved tracing the condensation that accumulated on the window, drawing random patterns and sometimes hearts. This time? Sevika's name. You felt like a lost puppy who just lost it'sfuckin owner, and you were pondering the meaning of life. You missed her. You missed the cigarette-mixed alcohol musk she always had clinging to her clothes. The way she would deviously smirk at whoever lost against⎯
"Can you open the damn door? It's fucking freezing out here!"
Poor you almost fell into the bookshelf at the sudden voice. You've not heard her voice in a week, somehow you slowly forgot what she sounded like, and the fact she was here? right outside your apartment door? that made you panic. Worried she was here to yell at you again. Scared. Hopeless.
"What do you want..?"
"To talk to you, please open the door"
In all honesty, both of you were exhausted. You both felt like nothing was going to be okay until you talked this out. Deep down, even if she was afraid to admit it, Sevika needed you. She needed you more than anything in life, and she wouldn't be able to bear it if you hated her.
Fresh tear-stained, red cheeks were what Sevika was met with when you finally gained the courage to open the door, hair messy and more than likely tangled. She looked like she hasn't slept in months, even though it's been a week. Before she looked so full of life, glowing even, and right now she looked like she would rather be drinking constantly than be happy.
"What did you want to talk about?" Your voice was barely there, and that made her tense. She didn't like she was the reason you looked and sounded so defeated. If only she could have just accepted her feelings for you from the start, then you both wouldn't be here like this right now.
"I just⎯ don't actually know how to word this, never really had to apologize before⎯ but I don't want to be like that with you... I want to be honest with you. I don't want to be scared to admit things to you. To admit that sometimes I can be an asshole, even when I don't mean to be.. I can be cruel.. I can be heartless but with you it's different. You don't treat me like that.. you treat me like a person and sometimes it freaks me the fuck out because you're the first person to⎯ to see me, all of me.. and it fucking scares me how comfortable and safe i feel with you. That night, i never meant to hurt you or upset you, i was just scared.. you scare me⎯ wait, that's not how i meant to word that, you scare me because i actually trust myself around you by being myself, i trust you and that scares me. Im scared because i love you, and i have no idea what I'm doing"
Human contact with anyone always made her freeze, so it wasn't surprising she tensed up the minute you wrapped your arms around her body tightly when you spotted her own tears running down her face and she was shaking like a leaf, she was not used to this kind of affection. But she did relax, when you rested your head against her chest, holding onto her like she was about to disappear, inhaling that cigarette alcohol mix left on her shirt.
"Don't have to be scared around me, I won't ever hurt you Vika. Love you too much to ever think about hurting you. Just wanna make you happy, never upset or hurt"
If she could, she would gladly stand in the middle of your home, holding onto you until her last breath. She loved the way your smaller body fit between her arms, and she already decided in this moment she never wanted to let you go. "I'm sorry i hurt you, Sweetheart"
"You're here now. That's all that matters to me, Vika"
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sweet-villain · 2 years
Text
Wishing~ Eddie Munson
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harrys-tittie asked:
If you’re possibly taking requests I have one since you like making everyone cry 😒 lol! I was thinking reader and Eddie based on the song heather by Conan Gray, heather being Chrissy. Maybe a happy ending part two of it fits somehow so we aren’t all dead inside. Anyway love your work. If you aren’t taking request no biggie :) I was thinking about this and it made me wanna come to you.
Angst
m-rae23 ~ palomam18 ~eddiesprincess86 ~figmentofquinn ~gloomybrieyxb ~hqtetsurou ~ theintimatewriter
I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater
You had been best friend with Eddie since you began high school, he took notice of you when you walked into the classroom he had with you wearing a Metallica shirt with a skirt and he couldn't stop staring at the necklace you were wearing. It was a guitar pick. A green one.
He stared in awe as you sat in front of him. His nose picked up your scent and something sweet added to it. He tapped your shoulder with the pen in his hand. He had his notebook out making drawings on it before he saw you.
" Nice shirt" he says, " I love Metallica" you nod eyeing him, a small smile on your face. You liked the way his mane of curls surrounded his face, you noticed the way his brown doe eyes shined, you noticed the dimples near his smile and you noticed his fingers on one hand had rings and only one on the other.
" It's rude to stare, you know?" he asks, a small smirk on his face.
" Just admiring" you say, his smile drops as his mouth forms in an "o" not expecting that. A hint of red flashes across his cheeks as he sinks into his seat, biting on the cap of the pen.
" Cute" you say turning back to pay attention, at least try to knowing that the cute metal head behind you couldn't stop blushing in his seat at you words.
Your friendship with Eddie blossomed as you two spend every other day, hanging out. If he wasn't at Hellfire or practice, he was with you. You two had movies night, you had met Wayne, he was shocked that Eddie brought a girl over and you had even stayed some nights. You had cooked for both of them telling them they needed to eat real food.
A piece of clothing was thrown at you catching you off guard as you were in your head thinking about the first time you met Eddie. Your hand reached out to remove the piece of clothing from your head, it was a hoodie. Not something you see in Eddie Munson's drawers or closet.
" What's this?" you asked, raising your eyebrow at him.
" You are freezing, Dot. I can see you shivering" Dot, that was your nickname from him. He found you adorable and small, it stuck with him and you liked it.
You inspected the hoodie he had thrown at you with a Black Sabbath on the front and it was plain black. But what you loved most about it was it smelled like him.
He was too busy into strumming Sweetheart when you raised the hoodie up to your nose and took a sniff. It smelled good, smelt like him and you threw it over the shirt you were wearing, removing your hair from inside as it got stuck.
It fit you perfectly. You slide your hands into the pockets turning your head just in time to catch his eyes, he was already looking at you with that look on his face. The look of adoration.
You said it looked better on me than it did you
" You can keep it. You look better than I do in it, hope it keeps you warm" he shoots you the dimple popping smile as he sets Sweetheart down.
" You hungry?" he asks standing up as he stretched. Your eyes looked over to the skin that said hello as his shirt lifted up. You wondered how soft his skin is underneath your fingertips.
" I could eat" you nod standing up.
Only if you knew how much I liked you
" Burgers and Milkshakes?" He asks, turning to look at you. " You read my mind" He grins as he puts on his jacket combo with the vest and grabbed his keys. You followed him out to the van and hopped into the passenger side.
You watched as he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel hearing the music booming through the stereo when he started the van. He was singing along with the words to the song but you can only focus on how pretty he looked at the moment. He always looked pretty but something about the way he was headbanging his head and little dancing in his seat that he was doing, made your heart flutter.
If only he knew how much he meant to you, how much you liked him and how he made you happy. If only.
But I watch your eyes as she
Everything stopped as soon as she came into the picture. Eddie would watch her with heart eyes with a dreamy smile on his face as Chrissy Cunnighman walked past him. She was a cheerleader in school and she was pretty. You frowned looking at him seeing the way way with just one glance at him, he swooned for her.
You felt like a knife dug into your heart creating a hole there. He would never look at you like the way he looks at her. She had the looks, she was popular and she had Eddie's attention.
Walks by
" Isn't she so pretty?" Eddie gushed watching Chrissy talk with her friends, giggling by the lockers. Dustin and Mike stood with you by Eddie, sending you an apologetic look on their faces. They were fully aware how you felt about their Dungeon Master.
You shrugged looking down at your converse as if they were the only thing that were more fascinating.
" How about Y/N?" Dustin asks, Eddie looks over to him with his eyebrows scrunched up. " What do you mean " What about Y/N?" Henderson?"
" Y/N is pretty too" you sent Dustin a small smile. Eddie nodded but shrugged, " Yeah but look at Chrissy" he puts a hand on his heart as he backs into the locker room, " She's such a beauty."
You felt tears trying to escape, you looked away as you said, " I need to talk to Robin about something. See you" you stormed past them and Chrissy, who sends you a smile which you don't return.
What a sight for sore eyes
" Can I talk to you, Eddie?" Chrissy stood near Eddie at the head of Hellfire table. Eddie's eyes got wide hearing her voice asking for him. You stabbed the food in your tray as you didn't dare to look over at him to see the way he swallowed, the way his eyes rose to look at her and grabbed his lunch box as he followed her.
You threw the fork you had in your hand onto the tray with a sigh.
" I'm so sorry Y/N" Gareth said, offering you a thin smile more like a sympathetic smile. Dustin stood up from his chair as he made his way around the table putting his arms around you as you lean into him, tears running down your cheeks.
Brighter than the blue sky
It was always Chrissy this. Chrissy that. Chrissy was this. Chrissy did that. Your hand clenched hearing him talk about her like she was the list of his life.
You had came over for movie night but Eddie had told you that Chrissy was here, and he showed her Sweetheart. He showed her Sweetheart. You hadn't been shown Sweetheart that quickly as he shown Chrissy. It angered you how she was getting the special treatment while you were there like some type of meat that he kept around for good use.
She's got you mesmerized while I die
" I'm going to ask Chrissy out, should I?" He asks throwing popcorn into his mouth, missing a few as they landed by near him on the couch. He attempts to find them as he waits for your answer. You bite your bottom lip feeling your heart sink. He wanted her. He didn't want you. He wanted her. He didn't want you. He doesn't look at you like that. He looks at her.
" Yeah, do it" you nod looking at the movie that was playing. Not really paying attention to it rather be in your thoughts and swallow the tears that were asking to come out. You cleared your throat.
" You okay?" he asks, shaking the bowl of popcorn for you to take. You reach in and grab a few stuffing them into your mouth as your eyes are glued to the movie.
" Yeah"
The thing that hurt you the most is that he stopped calling you Dot. That was your nickname he given you and he hasn't used it in awhile. Not since Chrissy came into the picture.
Why would you ever kiss me?
You would watch as they held hands walking in the hallways. He would walk her to class. He would hold her books. He would kiss her cheek making her giggle. You watch from a far as they didn't care about the looks from the other students, the scoff from Jason as he watched. He couldn't believe the freak of Hawkins High got Chrissy Cunningham.
You looked down at yourself and looked at Chrissy. You were nothing like her, your hair wasn't usually up. Your hair nicely flowed down past your shoulders. You wore band shirts, shorts or skirts or skinny jeans with pair of converse on your feet. You were part of Hellfire, you played guitar, you were a book worm, you studied, you had everything except Eddie. The person you fell for thinking he was your person.
I'm not even half as pretty
You weren't into sports or cheerleading. Your dream was to play guitar around the world, showing how skillful you were on a guitar. You got lost in your music and it helped. Eddie and you talked about touring one day, together that when Corroded Coffin got famous, he'd bring you on stage and the two of you would show the world how it is done.
" Do you think I'm pretty?" you ask Robin one day, walking into Family Video. Steve even turned around at the question why all of sudden you were asking this. Robin paused what she was doing as she made her way around the counter.
" Of course you're pretty. Why are you asking this?" you shrugged looking down at your fingers, twirling one of the rings on your finger. It was silver with your favorite color of stone in it.
" Did someone say something? I'll sucker punch them so hard-" Steve gets up from his seat by the computer as he raises his fists like he's ready to fight.
" Calm down, Macho man over there" Robin says to Steve. Then she turns to you, " What brought this one?"
" Just seeing Chrissy and Eddie...I don't know" you shrug again, hanging your head.
" Oh that dingus hasn't come to his senses yet?" your eyebrows knit together throwing her a confused look on your face. She sighs.
" He likes you too, you know?"
" What? No! He's dating Chrissy, she is way prettier than I am" Steve shakes his head.
" She's not, her pom pom's are nothing compared to your guitar skills" Steve nods. " I've seen the way you shred, you're amazing. I don't wanna hear you call yourself " not pretty". You're beautiful"
" Thank you Harrington" He sends you a smile as he turns back to the computer.
You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester
" Do you have my flannel by any chance?" Eddie asks as soon as he crawled inside your window, accidentally stepping on some papers that you threw on the floor.
" Why would I have your flannel?" you asked, from where you were sitting on the bed doing some homework. He plops besides you on the bed taking your notebook from your hands as he looks at it.
" History. Yuck" he scrunches up his face as he drops the notebook back on the bed. He looks around the room spotting your guitar where it usually is, he noticed you added stickers to it.
" I like the stickers" he motions to the guitar. You nod, " it needed a bit of a more welcoming look to it." You stood up from the bed and made your way to the drawer which had that flannel he was looking for.
He left it here when he slept over, he had forgotten and you never gave it back to him because you kept it to help you sleep at night.
" You left it here" you threw the flannel into his chest sitting back on the bed as you continued to do your homework. The energy between you and Eddie wasn't the same anymore.
But you like her better
It's like the best friends were just turned into friends. It hurt a lot but you don't show it. He was never going to choose you. You were just a friend as much as it hurts to say.
" You should hang out with Chrissy, you two would get along" he tells you shifting in his seat as he watches you work on your homework.
" I don't really think that's a good idea" his face drops as hears what you said. You didn't want to hang out with Chrissy? Did something happened?
" Why not?"
" I'm just not in a good place right now, Eddie" you weren't lying to him about that. You were too much in your head thinking about him and hurting yourself, you wished you were Chrissy. You wished you were good enough for him.
Wish I were Heather
" I don't understand why you wouldn't want to be friends with Chrissy? She's a sweet girl, maybe you two can go shopping together to get new clothes or something" Eddie says as he lights up a cigarette as he stands besides you, outside his trailer.
" What's wrong with the clothes I wear?" you glanced down at you Van Halen shirt and your ripped jeans with your boots that had red laces on them.
" Nothing, just need an upgrade. That shirt is losing color" he says as he looks over to you then at the shirt, shrugs like it wasn't a big deal. This shirt specifically was special to you. Your dad gave it to you on your birthday, it was one of the last things he gave you before he passed away. Eddie knew this and yet he was standing there telling you that you needed to dress better.
Fuck Eddie Munson
Watch as she stands with her, holding your hand
You sat in your car gripping the steering wheel as you gazed at the scene not too far ahead of you. Eddie was leaning against his van while Chrissy had her hands on his vest as he looks down at her, the two were talking but your heart broke even more when he took her hand in his and laced his fingers through his.
You grumbled underneath your breath as you got out of your car, taking your backpack in a fist heading towards the school.
From the corner of your eye, you saw him put his arm around her shoulder, tugging her closer as he kissed her. Right when you walked past. It hurt a lot.
Put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder
" Y/N! Wait up!" you heard from behind you. Eddie had pulled away from Chrissy as he sees the back of your head and his eyes fall onto Dustin who runs up to you, with a worry look on his face.
" You didn't come to dinner yesterday, my mom invited you over but you didn't come" you closed your eyes, face palming yourself in the head. You forgot all about the dinner.
" I'm so sorry, Henderson. I had a lot on my plate and I just wasn't feeling my best. Tell your mom, I'll make it up to you and her" he nods, sadly.
" You know you can talk to me Y/N" he says. You nodded. Dustin eyed the couple behind you, locking eyes with Eddie and he looks back at you sending you sympathetic smile. He had put two and two together, and pulls you into a hug.
Eddie watches with concern in his eyes as Dustin hugs you. You don't dare to even look at him. Not once.
" I'll see you at lunch" he hears you mutter to Dustin. You pull away from Dustin and continued to walk to class. Dustin glances at Eddie, shaking his head at him and Eddie watches with confusion on what that meant.
But how could I hate her? She's such an angel
You didn't hate Chrissy, not at all. She was a total sweetheart. Everything was perfect in her life.
A tap on your shoulder caused you to jump in your seat. You took off the headphones from your head as you turn around to see it was Chrissy that wanted your attention.
She took the seat in front of you, looking down at her hands and looking at the nail polish on her nails. She bite her bottom lip knowing she gotten your attention now. You rose your eyebrow waiting for her to talk.
" Do you hate me?" she asks.
You sighed, closing your textbook knowing you wouldn't get anymore studying done.
" I don't" you answer her. It was the truth. You didn't hate her. She just had Eddie. She nods as she looks around the library not knowing what to say.
" Look Chrissy, I'm happy for you and Eddie. I am. But there are some things you don't understand, I rather not talk to you about them. I don't hate you, not at all. I can never hate anyone, I'm just struggling.."
She nods but her eyebrows are knitted together as if she was looking for something. But you shield your eyes from her as you look down at the table. Your eyes told anyone, anything.
" I need to get home"
But then again, kinda wish she were dead as she
Chrissy had Eddie. She was pretty. She is a cheerleader. She had it all. You didn't. You didn't have Eddie. You were't pretty enough for anyone. You loved reading books. You loved drawing. You weren't into sports. You lived with your mother who you barely saw. You felt alone and unwanted.
It was a cruel thing to say but you wished that Chrissy wasn't part of Eddie's life. That she didn't exit, then maybe you stood a chance.
You turn to your side clutching the pillow to your chest as silent tears fell down your cheeks. You didn't really want to have these feelings for your best friend. But you did and it sucked.
Walks by What a sight for sore eyes
" You can't keep doing this to yourself Y/N" Gareth said as he stood next to you at the Hideout by the bar.
" Doing what?" you twirled the cup in your hands around on the bar. You came to have a few drinks at the bar, forgetting that Corroded Coffin was playing and Chrissy was here too.
" Drowning yourself like this. He is a closed chapter Y/N and you deserve better"
" I don't want better" you lifted your drink up to your lips to take a drink when Gareth took it out of your hands.
" What the hell! Give it back!" Gareth shook his head as he held it out stretch. The noise caused Eddie to come from the back and he stopped in his tracks seeing you chatting with Gareth, attempting to get your drink back.
Something in Eddie caused him to let out a growl as he stomped up to Gareth taking your drink from his hand and placing it on the bar. He took a hold of Gareth by his ear, tugging him and away from you.
You didn't bother to shout a thank you to Eddie turning back in your seat looking at the bottles on the bar.
" Are you hear to listen to Corroded Coffin, too?" A sweet voice spoke up as she sat next to you. You didn't need to turn your head to know who it was.
" No, I'm here to take my mind off with a drink" you tell her. Chrissy frowns and looks at Eddie as he locks eyes with her, he sends her a wink but his face drops seeing the back of your back. You used to love watching him play at the Hide Out. Now all he saw was the back of your back and it hurt.
Brighter than the blue sky She's got you mesmerized while I die
Eddie's eyes were on your back and then on Chrissy as he looked back and forth. He hoped that you would turn around, head bang to the music but you sat there drinking the things that occupied your mind.
As the set came closer to the end, Eddie took a few minutes to look at his guitar in his hands as he was playing and then when he turned back, you were no longer sitting there. The drink was empty and there was money on the bar.
But Chrissy sat there, smiling at him.
His eyes roam the Hide Out catching you as you made your way to the door. You took a moment to stop and turn your head to look over your shoulder catching your eyes with him, that's when he saw the tears shedding down your cheeks and his face fell wanting to run to you.
But he doesn't as if something is holding him back. He looks back at Chrissy who is waving at him having no clue how his heart is hurting seeing that you were distancing yourself, you weren't his best friend anymore.
Things were changing and he didn't like it.
Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty
The spot next to Eddie was empty, you had no longer sat there but ate your lunch outside of the building with your back against the wall on the ground. It hurt too much to see them together. Your seat has been replaced by her. She sat there, giggling and talking to Eddie but he paid no mind to it when his mind raced about you.
He wanted to talk to you. To make things better.
He didn't even notice Dustin get up and walk through the doors of the school knowing where exactly were you were. You felt someone sit next to you making you tense up.
" It's just me, Dustin" he sat down next to you. You couldn't help but lean your head on his shoulder.
" I'm never going to be pretty or good enough for him" you mumbled. Dustin looked down at you, his heart broke for you.
" That's not true Y/N. Eddie is just being Eddie"
" He's happy with her" Dustin sighed as he wrap an arm around you.
" Forget about him, he doesn't deserve you. He's just one guy" You lifted up your head and look at him.
" He's special, Dustin. He makes me feel special, at least he used" Dustin listens as you shake with sobs, bringing you back into him as he holds you. The only sound you could hear are your sobs and your heart breaking again.
You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester But you like her better
You sat on the swings in the backyard in the darkness when the door slide opened and two people came out, you noticed the long mop of curls and the high pony tail of the other. Eddie and Chrissy. But your eyes caught on the jacket she was wearing. His.
She is wearing his jacket. You watch as the both of them stand outside, holding together.
" I don't understand why she hates me" Chrissy says. Eddie shakes his head, shrugging.
" I'm sorry, sweetheart. I don't know what's gotten into her" Were they talking about you?
" I just want to be friends with her but it's like every time I try, she shuts herself down"
Eddie sighs as he leans down to kiss her forehead not knowing that you were watching them. The door slides open and Robin steps out as she looks around, she was looking for you since you came to the party together.
" What are you looking for, Buckley?" Eddie asks.
" Not what, who. Have you seen Y/N?" he shakes his head but that's when a surprises comes on Robin's face as you step from the shows walking up the stairs and past the couple, as they stare at you wide eyes.
" There you are, what are you doing out here?"
" Thinking and Drinking" you shake the cup up at her. She frowns and takes your hand as she pulls you inside. Eddie watches as you disappear inside, Chrissy looks at him seeing the frown.
" You're upset she's like this" He nods
I wish I were Heather
I wish I were Heather (Oh, oh)
Another long day at school. Another day of hiding from Eddie. Another day of hell.
You sighed as you opened the door of your car, throwing your backpack inside and as you were about to sit inside, the door was gripped with two hands. One hand decorated with rings and the other with just one ring.
" What's the hell is your problem?" he asks, a glare on his face. You looked up at him with your eyebrow raised.
" Mine?" He nodded waving his hand around, " I don't see anyone else around."
" I have no problem" he takes a deep breath as he shakes his head.
" I don't know what's been up your ass lately, but you have been a dick to Chrissy. All she wanted was to be your friend"
Wish I were Heather
Why would you ever kiss me?
" Well I don't wanna be her friend!" you shouted, turning your head away from him but he wasn't having it as he walked around the door and gripped your wrist to turn and look at you.
" You can't even look at me to tell me the truth" he hisses, his eyes held anger in them.
" Fuck off, Munson" you muttered pushing at chest to get him to move but he doesn't budge as he stands his ground with his fists to his sides.
I'm not even half as pretty You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester
" Fine! I don't wanna be her friend because of you!" you point at him, he blinks his eyes putting a hand on his chest. " Me?" you nodded.
" What about me, Y/N?"
" I don't wanna talk about it" you said, glaring at him as you turned your back to him feeling yourself shake. You didn't want to have this conversation with him. Not now. Not ever.
" Tell me, you've been pushing me away. I don't see you anymore and things are changing. Talk to me... please" he begs you as his anger vanishes replaced with hurt in his tone.
But you like her better Wish I were
" Because I'm in love with you Eddie Munson and you're never going to choose me" you sat in your car, closing the door as he stood there shocked with what he hears. He watches as you started your car and started to drive away.
You looked into the review mirror to see he was still standing there but your vision clouded with tears as you hurried home.
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naffeclipse · 9 months
Note
Naff! Naff! I finally read the last chapter of Song Fish!! Let me just start with saying that I am not normal about this chapter, not at all. There's so many things happening here that make me go INSANE in the BEST WAY!!!
Enjoy my essay!! XD
(Sorry, it gets a little gory at one point)
I HATE (hate-love you know~) how Circus forcefully gives y/n air and then drag them underwater again. She's so insanely cruel. Treating y/n like they're nothing more than a tool. I love how you made her into just a villain. Part of me for some reason thought that she would be some kind of anti-villian who didn't wanna just straight up kill you for personal gain, but man I was so wrong! Djfkfjhfjr
The dread and hopelessness we're immediately thrusted into and have to endure through the first half of the chapter is so well done and sets the tone so well! The glimpses of hope through the living nightmare y/n is going through keeps both y/n and the reader hoping for all this to end, it was hard to breathe sometimes and I could imagine the absolute darkness so vividly.
The absolute terror of being stuck in a sunken ship at the bottom of the sea.. that's the most terrifying place to be. It's like being stranded in space. Y/n really got the iron lung experience huh..
The visual I got whenever Circus was in the air pocket was striking. The way she lights up the entire space and water below in red is terrifying and in ways beautiful. Her giant green eyes have been seared into my mind and retinas somehow, I can visualize them so clearly against the red glow of her body.
Her tentacles snatching up y/n, squeezing and tossing them around in this already claustrophobic space sounds like literal hell and how y/n tries desperately to wipe the slick slime from Circus' tentacles away after she's let them go makes me cry :'0
It's terrifying how she can manipulate and control y/n so easily. Mers have all the control over their humans, knowing that fact makes me melt more over how sweet and caring Sun, Moon and Freddy are (and also Eclipse♥️). Just thinking back to Vanessa now and how Glitch controlled her like a puppet... I'm glad Circus never got that far with y/n..
Freddy saves the day!!! Aw Freddy, he's so sweet c': and oh my god Gregory what the hell are you doing out there with so many broken bones! I appreciate your help immensely but DAMN!!
Oh man and here's the fight! HERE'S THE FIGHT!!!
No no!! It's not fair, Sun stands no chance even when fighting back! Circus is a coward for forcing y/n to tell Sun not to fight,, she has the power to make it easier for herself yes and it's smart of her to use that power, but man it's cruel...
I feel like I say the same thing every time, but the way you write fight scenes between monsters is always so spectacular, bloody and filled with so much anger and heavy emotions. I'm blown away every time!!
When Circus's jaws opened up and her face pealed back I had to stop and celebrate! I'm so happy you kept that terrifying feature of hers and used it exactly like I did with my drawings of her! I'm just over the moon that my weird design turned out to be accurate to the fic! XD
She's terrifying! I love her! And hate her!
The tearing and slashing and biting AAAAA!!!! Oh god poor y/n having to feel what ALL THREE are feeling,,
Thank god for Freddy being there to stop Circus. The glimpses of fright finally being felt from her is SO SATISFYING! She screwed up majorly by messing with this group of mers and humans, and finally she's feeling that regret and fear for what she's brought upon herself.
They tore her head off!!?!!? Absolute BEASTS!!!!
I try to imagine how much that'd hurt but it's impossible. To Circus the pain stopped once her neck broke apart, but for y/n it persists. To feel every nerve snap, the skin tear, muscles rip and spine break and then the fading of consciousness on top of it all. And have all that pain stay after you're supposed to have died from it.. yeah I have no way to describe it and no way of imagining how that must feel. ....I'm not surprised y/n fainted.. though I do believe it was something more than just a faint..
*Deep inhale*
THEM!!!! FISHER AND ECLIPSE!!! IT'S THEM!!!!!!!
Oh I am not normal over our two y/ns meeting each other!! I screamed and cheered and nearly cried I was so happy to see those two again!!!
The way fisher is there to greet y/n and help guide them is PERFECT! And Eclipse being there too in his full glory, his beautiful red and orange colors against the bright white sky and dark star dotted ocean is striking. Absolute eye candy (which is funny to say cause it's writing, but you paint everything up so well so I can visualize it without any problems!)
I love this afterlife, or in-between life and death you've created, it sounds so peaceful and otherworldly.
Excuse me for a second as I scream into my pillow. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THEY TURNED INTO YOUNG VERSIONS OF THEMSELVES BEFORE THEY LEFT!!!! AAAAAAA MY HEART!!!!! I'M CRYING!!!!!! I love them so much,, fisher and Eclipse are so precious to me and I'm SO HAPPY TO SEE THEM AGAIN!!!
I love how you've tied these two stories together and how one of them even effects the other. I really wanna reread Deep Dreams, it's soon been a whole year since I first read it!
Fisher and mer Eclipse hold a special place in my heart. I'm so happy you brought them back for this conclusion, it's a beautiful conclusion to their story too ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️
I wonder how much Sun and Moon could feel when y/n was under. Could they sense the presence of another great mer near their human or see what y/n was seeing? Or did they feel nothing, nothing at all, and for a moment thought they had lost the person they live for? My brain goes brrrrrrrrrr when I think about it~
They're like cats! Since when were they like cats!? They're licking each other's wounds!! AAAAA SWEETIES!!!
Can I ask again what kind of sailboat this new one is?? Aaaa they're painting it so prettyyyy!!! :'D
YES GO TO THE ABANDONED SHACK!! YEEES FIND THE SEASHELL!!! YEEEEES PUT IT WITH THE OTHERS WHERE IT BELONGS!!!! I'm not normal pdkdjdkd
Naff oh my god!! I loved this so much!!! NAFF I'M RATTLING YOU!!!! Thank you for this wonderful story, I enjoyed it immensely all the way through♥️
I hope you enjoyed my many thoughts pdjddskdj and I hope you're doing well! Remember to take care of yourself a little extra now when you're stretched thin between responsibilities and school stuff. Remember to stretch, hydrate and get plenty of rest~
Until next time I scream in your inbox, take care! I love you! ♥️♥️♥️
Meep, I am enjoying your essay wholeheartedly, you have no idea!!!
Oh my gosh, Y/N is getting the iron lung experience ;-; Too many terrifying situations under the oceans these days!
Yup, that's what poor Vanessa went through! Fisher Y/N thankfully never had to find out what a terrible mer could do with such a bond, but I wanted to explore that concept more, and who better than our fearful little Y/N trying to do their best?
BABE I'M SO HAPPY YOU LIKE THE RETURN OF ECLIPSE AND FISHER Y/N!!! It was one of my favorite scenes to write!
As for what the boys felt when Y/N was gone, it was a stark emptiness. The strict feeling of something needing to be there but wasn't. It was so out of place and terrifying. The boys were truly scared that they had lost their little seashell.
The next sailboat is a sloop as well! Y/N got pretty attached to that type hehe
Ahhh, I'm rattling you in return!!! I'm so glad you'll tell me your thoughts on it and I'm even happier that you enjoyed it all!!!
I'm doing good, thank you! I hope you are, too, and make sure you take it easy on yourself ♥ I love you, too!!!
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Text
bleeding out for you
Description: after taking a fatal blow, your beloved holds you in their arms as they watch you die
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A/N: I was listening to bleeding out by imagine dragons and I got this idea for a fic. I couldn't decide which character I wanted to do specifically though, so it's pretty much up to you :]
Warnings: major character death (spoiler alert: its you), heavy angst, slight gore, your comfort character has to watch you die; zero chance at a happy ending, for anyone. sorry
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Your high pitched scream was what caught their attention, signaling to them something was wrong. They saw you fall to the ground, almost in slow motion, immediately rushing to your side in an effort to catch you.
They cradled you in their lap, their arms holding onto you. You let out a strangled cough, blood spewing from your mouth as you tried to speak, letting out a weak attempt at saying their name.
"Hey, it's okay, I'm here, sweetheart. I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere," they assured you, tears threatening to spill from their eyes.
You reached a shaky hand up to their face, cupping their cheek as a way of saying, it's okay, everything's going to be fine. As a sign of reassurance that you would never leave them. But in this moment, things were looking pretty grim, and it might be that you wouldn't have a choice.
"Hey," you whispered, your throat hurting after nearly choking on your own blood. "Please don't cry, honey, everything's going to be okay."
They just nodded their head at you, looking down. You both knew how likely it was that you were going to get out of this alive, but they couldn't bring themselves to even think the awful thought, let alone say it out loud.
Instead, they chose to focus on your eyes. Your gorgeous eyes, the ones they could never grow tired of looking into. Some say the eyes are the window to the soul; if that were true, then they thought you must have the purest soul of all, even if you didn't believe it yourself.
Your fluttering eyelids brought them back to reality, a sign you were struggling to stay awake. They began to panic, knowing how permanent it would be if you closed them.
"Hey, hey, sweetheart, look at me, okay? Open your eyes, honey. Just try to keep them open for me, please."
"But... I'm so tired..." you mumbled. "I... I can't..."
"Yes, you can, okay? I know you're tired, honey, but you have to try to stay awake, okay? For me?"
They were practically pleading at this point. It wasn't rational for them to hope that you'd somehow make it out of this alive, they knew that. Hell, they saw how severe your injuries were before they even made it over to you; and once they did, it was much more awful looking up close. But they couldn't even fathom being forced to live in a world without you in it.
"I'm... I'm sorry, baby, but... I'm just so tired. I... I have to go. I love you..."
Terror flickered across their face as they felt you leave them, your body going limp and your skin becoming cold.
The tears that had flooded their eyes spilled over as they cried out in agony. You, their beloved, their sunshine, the light in their cold, dark life, had left them.
No, you hadn't left- you'd been taken. Their face contorted into a look of pure rage, vowing they'd find the person who did this and make them pay.
From that moment on, it became certain to them that they had no hope if it wasn't for you; no sympathy, no joy. And as of this moment, they would never let their guard down, they would never trust another.
They would never love again.
~
{Divider by @celcero}
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spaciebabie · 6 months
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Quick AN: Originally this was an idea I got for a later scenario in a fic I’m writing about Springtrap and a vampire oc of mine however for the sake of this ask I’m ripping out the vampire and placing y/n in their shoes but if you ever wanna hear about the cringe girlfailure that is Wren Vesper the vampire love interest lmk I’m always happy to infodump!! :33
Okay now onto the angst [evil_grin.jpeg]
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Springtrap’s hands shook as he delicately clutched the old photo you handed him. You’d never seen him so… horrified before.
At the same time, however, you couldn’t exactly blame him for being in shock; it had been so long since he had seen himself appear so joyful in any way with anyone, save for his late business partner whom the two of you also held a deep fondness for back then.
Before everything Springtrap had done.
His breathing grew more sporadic, having already been difficult enough for him as is before descending into such a panicked state so quickly. As usual, he attempted to hide his reaction, but it was all he could do but to slowly placed his free hand over his eyes——and it wasn’t long before a few robotics whimpers that almost sounded reminiscent of sobbing escaped his lips.
Your eyes widened, and as he dropped himself into one of the corners in the office, you reached out to him, offering to rest a hand on his shoulder.
He allowed it, but it took a few minutes before he finally brought himself to remove his hand from his face. Even then though, he found himself looking down at the picture again with sorrow in his eyes.
“Why are you still here?” he eventually muttered.
You stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“You know very well what I mean,” he said, finally looking back up at you. He couldn’t cry, yet something about his expression made it seem like he was about to tear up. “Just think about the things I say, the things I *do*. The things I’ve already done that I can’t just go back and fix!”
You bit your lip, trying your best to hold back tears of your own as he went on.
“If I were to say I regretted *everything* I’ve done, it’d just be another lie to add to the list… but that’s not to say there’s *nothing*. But that doesn’t help you or Henry, now does it?”
“Will, I-“
Springtrap waved a hand in the air as he stood up and took a couple of steps away.
“No… no. Can’t you see it? I’m sick! I’m sick and horrible and-! Somehow you still love me all the same, don’t you..?”
You raised a hand, almost as if contemplating reaching out to him again, but instead used it to rub the back of your neck. You couldn’t find a proper way to respond yet.
“How is that even possible?!” Springtrap continued. “Don’t you know how awful I am for you? How awful I was for BOTH of you? How awful I was for ANYONE who had the misfortune of meeting me?!”
You took a step forward, but he took a step back.
“I just… I just don’t get it; to love someone as diseased as I. You’re my world, but you deserve so much better than to have to witness the world I live in when you don’t speak. You’re everything to me, but I don’t understand how I can be ANYTHING to you. Why don’t you hate me like you’re SUPPOSED to?!”
You couldn’t find the words at first, having been completely heartbroken by each and every one that Springtrap just spoke. You were well aware that he was bad. Or, at least, many of his actions were.
But despite that…
“Hey, listen to me,” you began, grasping his hand and folding them both while placing one of your hands on top of them.
He stared at you with questioning, almost glossy eyes.
You took a deep breath.
“Will. I am… I am well aware that you’re a horrible person. You’ve done things I can’t even attempt to justify, and you’re right; I SHOULD hate you for it. But that’s the thing: I can’t.”
Springtrap’s eyes widened.
“That honestly probably makes me just as terrible as you. I’ve accepted that already though. Because, despite everything, I love the person that you are beyond your crimes. You’ve proven that you can be vile, but you’ve also proven time and time again that you can be GOOD to people too. I mourn for every child that lost their lives, and I hate myself for mourning the loss of YOU even more. Before you did that, you and Henry were the reason I looked forward to the day ahead, and you both were the only beacons of light I ever managed to find in this… this pointless existence I live in. William, you’ve proven to me your potential for generosity, kindness, patience, and compassion. You’ve always been insistent on working yourself to death when it came to what you were passionate about, and you always set aside time to spend with me or Henry even if you were working on something else. But you’re broken. You have trust issues, you’re emotional, absurdly obstinate, and you did horrifying things.”
You smiled through your stream of tears as you tilted your head up to look at him, who also appeared as if he were ‘crying’.
“I love you even still though because I relate to that so much. So… so much. And I know we’re both repulsive people for the types of things we’ve done, but I can’t help but fall for you all over again every time I see you anyway. I love you and the beautifully broken mess you are, Will, so please… keep letting me.”
Springtrap found himself ‘sobbing’ uncontrollably as he abruptly pulled you into a hug.
It was the first time he initiated one first.
And as you both stood there holding each other and crying, you found strange safety in the other’s arms.
It was the two of you against the rest of the human race, and you loved each other with such a comforting insanity that you knew you’d be alright from then on. As long as you had each other.
And that was enough.
You didn’t know if you could put his pieces back together, and he wasn’t sure if he could do the same for you either.
But what you two knew for certain was that you were going to treat those broken pieces with the love and care neither of you were ever able to receive until then.
—Mari
what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck
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sourbinnie · 1 year
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title -> hits different genre -> angsty angst pair -> ot8! skz/ateez x gn!reader plot -> when love is a lie and your friends don't know what to do anymore to get you by. warnings -> alcohol consumption + cursing a/n: yeah,,,, i had to ok THIS IS SO LONG ALSO IM SORRY
i washed my hands of us at the club you made a mess of me i pictured you with other girls in love then threw up on the street
remembering felix came in different shades & colors. it brought me back to reality that i was already thinking of him and the night didn't even start. washing my hands to wash the memories of us seemed to be doing no effect in my brain and the easiest way to forget was to consume alcohol until i couldn't stop. it wasn't healthy, it wasn't easy and it certainly wasn't what i wanted but my friends dragged me out every time like my life depended of how well and how much i could handle in the dancefloor of another god awful sweaty club.
here i was once again thinking of late nights with felix where we would stay in bed, where i would think of him and not feel pain. i would just be in a pure bliss and love moment. now it's just dark & twisted, gut wrenching and heartbreaking memories and that's all i held onto. i could picture with any of the girls/guys here and he would be happier, even if every part of me hated me for doing so. maybe he was in love with someone else all along and couldn't tell me, and i would have to live in the reality that he wasn't mine for me to love.
like waiting for a bus that never shows you just start walking on they say that if it's right, you know each bar plays our song nothing has ever felt so wrong
oh god the song that started playing. i could not imagine a worse scenario than going out and hearing it on the street. it came from a dusty bar but it still ringed in my ears as i picked up the pace to go somewhere else. it was a habit of mine to make playlists for hongjoong. he would listen to them to calm down when he was nervous, to when he was busy at work and needed music to keep him company or when he missed me. maybe he was doing that right now.
no, he wouldn't have broken up with me if he missed me. he wouldn't have muttered those words at me if he was gonna regret it now when all he was radiating was confidence that night. as the tears made it's way down my cheeks just because a song could get me that way. this wasn't any normal break up, this was the person who i felt was the love of my life drifting away from me in the cruelest way possible. so here i was sitting on the pavement, waiting for everything to just stop for a moment and for my thoughts to drift far away from him.
oh my, love is a lie shit my friends say to get me by it hits different it hits different this time
i knew they were all lying to me, everyone here was in a happy relationship except me. i used to be part of the happy crew though, i used to smile in every photo and send them to changbin. he was my motivation to keep going and my strength to feel better about myself. now without him, i only know the saddest of beats due to the amount of time i take to listen to playlists that only make me wanna cry. i'll never get what crossed his mind for him to break up with me.
we weren't the perfect couple, we had our disagreements but we clicked. like two pieces in a puzzle we somehow found our way to each other and we settled. moving in together, adopting a pet, introducing each other to our families, it all went by so fast and i didn't appreciate enough when i had it. now i was missing the most common of things as i looked at the engagement rings on my friends' hands. maybe that could have been us but in this life, it looks like not.
catastrophic blues moving on was always easy for me to do it hits different it hits different 'cause it's you
what had me hooked on to san? literally everything. the way he was careful around me, the way he sang me to sleep and the way he just simply knew me like the back of his hand. that's the way i wanted things to be forever. it somehow drifted to him not knowing me at all and acting so cold & distant. i missed my sannie, i missed him so fucking much. it was like i needed him to continue 'cause i knew he was the one i wanted to marry all along, that dream guy you chase after like it's a fairytale.
but life was no fairytales and as i looked outside in the window in my room, the rain seemed unstoppable like the wave of tears that invaded me. he was the one, i knew he was the one. yet if he was the one, he would've stayed and we would've never fought in the first place, he wouldn't have changed his ways and his habits. i never was the biggest fan of physical contact but nowadays i crave his clinginess, his hugs, his kisses, him calling me prince/princess. i just missed him.
i used to switch out these kens, i'd just ghost rip the band-aid off and skip town like an asshole outlaw freedom felt like summer then on the coast now the sun burns my heart and the sand hurts my feelings
i hated dating, it was a fact at this point. you date someone to fall in love and get your heart broken like an idiot? no thanks, i would rather not. but i made an exception for him, for minho. thinking that maybe i would settle down forever & ever, not having to worry about a damn thing because i had found the one. it was a lie, it all was fake as fuck as he left me stranded in the cold and i tried to chase him down but it was useless. it was no lie that he was cold hearted when he was mad but this exceeded my expectations.
going on vacations to forget the one you loved wasn't the best idea either. it's like everywhere i looked, i saw him staring right at me with that mischievous look of his. i wanted to run to him again, to have him in my arms and just simply enjoy the fucking moment. why did he have to play me like this? like some kind of twisted game where he came out victorious and i stood there like a loser in the board. tracing figures in the sand, i had never felt more pathetic and lonelier than ever.
and i never don't cry at the bar yeah, my sadness is contagious i slur your name till someone puts me in a car i stopped receiving invitations
it was like a song repeating itself the way i said his name, i could not stop and feel embarrassed because i went through every stage of the breakup. first i was angry, then i was sad and miserable and now i just felt numb. numb because yunho left and i had no idea how the fuck to move on from mr. perfect guy to being single forever and ever. i didn't want anyone else and everybody knew that. still people tried to get me to go to dates, clubs, events and i just had the worst time of my life as i acted ridiculous once again.
is this what it felt like to get your heart shattered completely? is what i thought when he muttered the words "break up". yeah no wonder i cried myself to sleep every night and nobody wanted me near them, i had been torn apart like it was the easiest thing to do. i looked out the window from the taxi cab and remembered the day he took me home from the club because i was too drunk. he looked at me with that smile of his and i just knew, everything was gonna be alright. back then... maybe not so much now.
oh my, love is a lie shit my friends say to get me by it hits different it hits different this time
i laid in my bed staring at the ceiling as i thought about us. incoming calls were going and then disappearing from my phone. i didn't have the strength to talk to anyone as i processed what just happened between us. the space that he occupied felt so cold suddenly. i knew people wanted to cheer me up, saying he was just like every other guy and i deserved better. i truly wanted to think that too but seungmin wasn't like anyone i have ever met before. he was so kind hearted and so love driven that it pained me to believe that we got to this point.
i had to hold on to remembering the good times because there wouldn't be any new memories to write about. there would be no cooking together, hugging at the airport or spending late nights with the boys as we laughed at the smallest of things. there would just be an emptiness that i would have to fill with something so i could move on from this hell. the hell being the constant repeat of love and kindness he offered me and i had to throw away because maybe i just don't deserve to be loved.
catastrophic blues moving on was always easy for me to do it hits different it hits different 'cause it's you
how many times will i have to go through this again? break ups aren't easy. this one in particular left me with the worst bitter taste in my mouth as i looked back at photographs hanging around my apartment. it crushed my soul and spirit knowing that i would never see him smile that wide again. that my last memory of mingi is gonna be this heated and stupid fight, that started over a small detail but finished with a loud bang in my heart as he broke up with me and left the apartment.
packing his things was the most difficult part yet. i had to send them to the dorm and hope i did not forget anything because facing him again would actually kill me on sight. so i packed the sweaters that i used so much, the old headphones i gifted to him and the small promise ring he bought for our anniversary. it was a petty thing to do but i felt like he deserved to have it, it was his money and his promise after all. receiving will probably be a punch in the face but i didn't care, he deserved to know how i felt too.
i find the artifacts, cried over a hat cursed the space that i needed i trace the evidence, make it make some sense why the wound is still bleeding?
in my mind it all made more sense. i knew it wasn't easy to break up with someone, so he found an excuse to do so and because he was too kind to let me down, he chose his words carefully and just decided to finish it. it wasn't the coldest of breakups, but it was the one that made the least sense. why would hyunjin tell me that he loved me so much to then break up with me in the weirdest way possible. i just wanted an explanation and not to be greeted by his voicemail once again.
i wanted to get rid of his stuff so bad but i couldn't find the force to send it all to him or burn it like they did in movies. it was embarrassing how much i was holding on to nothing, how much i wanted for him to come back and tell me it was just a cruel and mean spirited joke. i would forgive him right away, i think that's the most pathetic part about me. even if he hurts me over & over again, i would still be looking for the answers and hoping he would return home.
you were the one that I loved don't need another metaphor, it's simple enough a wrinkle in time like the crease by your eyes this is why they shouldn't kill off the main guy
it was easy to say that you loved someone. for example, i loved jongho, he made my days better, made me weak to the knees when i saw him, made me wish i was up to his standards every day. it looked like he wished his standards were higher as well because he left me. okay this is my drunk brain speaking but it just didn't make any fucking sense how you are loved one day, ditched the other and then you see your ex with someone else not too long after that. i just wanted it all to be a nightmare.
i wanted to curse, to scream, to leave it all unsaid. i chose to be silent and observe, writing him letters i will never send and hoping the future treats me in a kinder way. i was never one to confront the situation and make it known that i deserved better, i just knew that i did. it just wasn't easy to watch it all unwind so fast when i had barely even moved on. maybe jongho just wasn't meant for me to love, for me to have and for me to cherish. maybe he really wasn't that great after all and just maybe... he would be happier without me
dreams of your hair and your stare and sense of belief in the good in the world, you once believed in me and i felt you and I held you for a while bet i could still melt your world argumentative, antithetical, dream girl
it was so stupid to still think of him. i laughed to myself as i looked around an empty apartment, i was finally leaving it after all this time. he wanted me to stay because he had the dorms anyways but i couldn't do it, not even for us. it was just too painful to be greeted by the memories chan and i made every single day. i was still gonna be alone but i would be in better company than i was here, that's for sure. i looked around and it felt like a dream, it used to be my dream home at one point.
suddenly again i was still seeing the boxes with our stuff on it, we didn't have a couch or a tv for such a long time. we didn't care though, we could talk all day about anything and we were just fine with that. cuddling on the floor with a blanket and falling asleep like that. it would sound dreadful to anyone but i think for me, it was the best experience i could ask for in a relationship. just the way he held me and made me feel alive every day, i was hoping i could carry the good out of this.
i heard your key turn in the door down the hallway is that your key in the door? is it okay? Is it you? or have they come to take me away?
i was definitely hallucinating as i heard a key jingling at the door. then i realized that i had a new neighbor and i was just being insane like always. there wasn't a day that passed that i didn't wish yeosang would come back. it felt like an eternity since he left and it felt even worse knowing that he was probably having the time of his life without me while i suffered here like an idiot. i knew it was crazy behavior to lock yourself up in your apartment and think that you can do this on your own.
i couldn't do it even if i tried to. i kept thinking about him and i when we first met, the shyness that i fell so hard for turning into something else. i could not place my finger around it but it was like my sangie just disappeared and was nowhere to be found. he truly was mesmerizing to look at, maybe it got too much to his head? or maybe i just simply wasn't enough for him. it hurt to know that you gave it all for a relationship that for a few months had been one sided all along and it kept going on until it exploded yet you still hope for him to come back.
oh my, love is a lie shit my friends say to get me by it hits different It hits different this time
i said "no" so many times at this point, i was getting repetitive. it felt like i was living in a hallucination, a reality i never once wished for or never saw coming in the first place. maybe i was being dramatic but jeongin was the light that i was always looking for. so bright and so cheerful, it made me want to cry as i thought of him stupid smile. the way he couldn't talk around me because he got nervous but he still made the effort to ask me out, it was cute back then but now it just broke my heart.
the fact that i could not forget at all the way i hurt him and the way he hurt me. my friends said that it was stupid for us to break up and his friends insisted that we should talk, neither of us made a move. then it moved to "well you're better off without them" phase and i think both of us truly believed it. we saw each other again at the club and it looked like none of us had slept in forever but we kept our pride up and did not say a single word to one another. the fact that it could have been a second try, kills me every night.
catastrophic blues moving on was always easy for me to do it hits different it hits different 'cause it's you
there was no way wooyoung was gonna get out of my mind. every day i tried, date after date, drink after drink and thrill after thrill. nothing seemed to work, all my methods for break ups were not working and i was losing my mind. it's like he was right there all along, mocking me like he used to but not in a cute way. he knew i could not do it without him and he was right, i hated him so much for being right when he said the words "good luck without me!".
crystal tears dropping to my glass as i reminisce of what could have been a great love. i just wanted the best for us and of course i had to say the words ”break up” for him to take seriously. he always had an attitude and dealt with things in the moment or he didn't want to deal with them at all. i couldn't handle him yet i wanted him so bad and he was the only i wanted all along. i just felt stuck in a place where i didn't belong and that was me without him, hoping he would think of me and give me a call someday.
(oh my, love is a lie) (shit my friends say to get me by) ('cause it's you)
i was done playing games, i was running in the rain. i knew it wasn't the most sane behavior i ever showed but i could not be stopped. all the memories came flowing back and i just needed to get them out of the way. i needed to move as fast before it was too late. i was invaded by guilt as i thought of doing this when he had already moved on but i needed to think of the good chances first and then of what i would do if all the opportunities for us to get back were gone.
i stood there in front of the door that i knew so much. knocked on it so many times, been received by every boy who lives there yet there was only one in my mind as i knocked again. i knew this was the time where he got home. so i waited and waited in the dreadful silence outside while i heard some mumbling words on the inside. hoping to see him brought effect as i was greeted by him looking better than ever and me soaked from the cold pouring rain.
"(y/n)?" jisung said and I could only smile.
oh how much i missed you.
(catastrophic blues) (moving on was always easy for me to do) it hits different it hits different 'cause it's you
sitting down for a chat wasn't easy. especially not with your ex boyfriend but i had to give it one last try as i looked at him while he tried to look anywhere else but me. the quiet was going to actually kill me but i stayed strong as i had said everything i wanted to say and was honest with my feelings like i was taught to. i never moved on, i could never do that when seonghwa was my first real relationship.
"why did it take you so long?" he asked.
"because... i wasn't sure how you would feel about me being back in your life."
that's what i said and it was like he was analyzing every word as he grabbed my hands and sighed. i was expecting the worst of the worst, to have traveled so far for nothing, to have to come back "home" with a broken heart yet...
"it's all i ever wanted."
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fanficwritersworld · 2 years
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Being the human daughter of Kara Danvers...
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She saved you after one of your foster sisters started cooking meth in the basement with your foster parents.
You were trying to get all the younger kids out. You were the second oldest.
Something about you make Kara very protective of you, so she did a little interview as Kara Danvers to meet you after Maggie called social services
That wasn't the last of Kara you saw
She would always call to the group home you were placed in to make sure you were okay
You always looked forward to her visits, they quickly became the highlight of your week
Then one day the head of the group home informed you that someone wanted to foster you
So you went to meet them
'Kara? What are you doing here?' 'I was hoping that you would... I dunno stay with me for a while?'
You were frozen in place. Kara wanted to adopt you!
You ran up to her, hugging her as tight as humanly possible
Living with Kara was like a dream come true. She always helped out with homework where she could and her sister Alex would pick you up after school
But soon you realised that she would disappear at the most random times and when she'd come back she was in different clothes and looked like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.
But when she left for an entire day, you rang Alex crying over the phone, worried about your foster mother.
Alex picked you up, promising that she would explain everything.
She brought you to her place of work. You thought she was a doctor for the military but when you saw the amount of FBI looking people, she told you that she was really a special agent that protects earth from criminal extraterrestrial beings with the help of Supergirl.
Before you could ask what her job had to do with Kara, a weird blue portal opened up.
You saw Supergirl walk out with Kara's boyfriend, Mike and a man with the same uniform as the agents walk out.
Alex walked up to Supergirl, talking to her as she handed her something.
Supergirl walked over to you, noticing the tears on your face. 'Hi little one' she forced a smile.
Only Kara called you that
Forcing the anger away, you hugged her as you cried. Only happy that she didn't leave you.
After being reunited, that anger you forced away came back, but you weren't angry at Kara. You angry at yourself
Were you too childish? Did you betray her trust somehow? Maybe you were a threat to her secret?
The man they came with quickly whispered something in Kara's ear. You could have sworn that his eyes weren't red a minute ago.
'Little one, I need you to know the reason I didn't tell you was because I wanted to keep you safe. It care about you so much'
Kara hugged you, promising to tell you everything and she did.
Since that day, you both got closer. Friday nights were now movie night. You even partaked in Game night with her friends and even joined Sister night.
Mondays became your night, the two of you eating tons of takeout and watching whatever you could find on Netflix
One day, you were staying in Kara's little office, studying for your last exam of the year. That's when Kara came in with a pristine white envelope in hand.
She handed you the envelope, eager for you to open it.
You looked up at her with tears in your eyes.
'You wanna adopt me?' 'Of course I do little one, I love you'
Hugs, tears and lots of cake had filled the day.
When Kara's Earth birthday was coming close, you asked Clark, seeing as you were now his second cousin, to teach you some kryptonian.
Kara woke to the smell of bacon. You waltzed into her room with her favourite breakfast. 'Aw, little one' Kara smiled, kissing your cheek. 'Thank you'
That's when your first present was given 'Happy Birthday... Jeju'
Tears welled in Kara's eyes, making you worried you pronounced it wrong.
'You called my mom... in kryptonian' you were tackled in a hug. 'I said it right?'
Now you only ever called her jeju
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ya-ya-sestrahood · 6 months
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Krystal and Sarah, E. :)
Krystal + Sarah (featuring Sarah/Rachel and Krystal/MK) - Sharing a drink (set in Kat's rock band AU)
Sarah steps out of the elevator and saunters toward the hotel bar. The pre-show drink hasn’t been a strict necessity for her in years, but it would be a shame not to at least stop by and say hello. She briefly considers the possibility that the woman she’s looking for might not be working tonight or might not even work here at all anymore, but somehow, she just knows. When she turns the corner and spots her behind the counter, it feels like coming home.
“Hey, Krystal,” she says, slipping into the seat in front of her. “Y’alright?”
Krystal’s eyes flick up to meet hers.
“Do I know you?” she asks.
“Cute,” Sarah laughs. “This because I didn’t come to see you last time?”
Krystal shrugs a shoulder.
“Maybe.”
“Yeah… sorry,” Sarah says, swallowing. “Things with Rachel were a bloody mess. I know you were at the show that night.”
Krystal nods.
“It sucked.”
“It was shite,” Sarah agrees. “Guess that’s why you don’t shag your bandmate.”
Krystal sighs, turning and grabbing a bottle. In a blink, she’s sliding a bourbon across the table.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Sarah gratefully grabs the glass and takes a swig.
“Only if you’re drinking too,” she says.
The corner of Krystal’s lip curls upward.
“I’m working,” she says.
“I’m buying,” Sarah says.
Krystal grins.
“You win.” 
Sarah then watches in awe as Krystal begins throwing together the most elaborate cocktail she’s ever seen. She flits between shelves, her hands moving with blistering efficiency, and somehow, an effortless grace. Sarah feels her heart start to beat faster. She curses herself under her breath.
The final product consists of all the colors of a sunset in one glass. Sarah could swear it gives off its own light.
“The hell’s that?” she says.
Krystal raises her glass and clinks it against Sarah’s.
“It’s $75.”
“We’re doin’ better now, but she’s not always easy. I’m not always easy. Sometimes, I just… I feel like I’m countin’ the days ‘til it falls apart again.”
Sarah draws in a breath, runs her fingers through her hair. God, she does not want to cry right now. Krystal places a hand over hers. Her eyes are kind.
“Sorry,” Sarah says. “You don’t need to hear about my problems. You doin’ alright? How’s Veera?”
“I’m good. She’s good,” Krystal says, her eyes lighting up at the mention of her partner. “She can’t wait to see you tonight.”
“You’re bloody lucky, y’know,” Sarah says into her drink. “The way you two are with each other. You make it look so easy.”
“Please,” Krystal laughs. “You think it’s been easy? Have you seen us? We’re like, totally different people. We don’t think the same, you know? We used to hurt each other a lot. We still do sometimes. We’re still figuring it out.”
She pauses, taking in a shaky breath.
“But I love her. I love her mind, and I love her laugh, and I love her smooshy little face. If I didn’t have her, I’d just… die. And I can tell you and Rachel are the same. It’s like, super obvious.”
“I know,” Sarah mutters. “I’m not used to it. Before her, whenever things got hard, I’d be gone.”
“But she’s worth it, right?” Krystal says, a knowing smile on her face.
“She damn well better be,” Sarah says. “I’m not havin’ you two show us up.”
Krystal grins. She leans forward and drapes her hand over her glass, revealing a thin band on her ring finger.
“Oopsie.”
“Oh,” Sarah says. “Fuckin’ hell.”
“Yeah,” Krystal says. “Fucking hell.”
“That’s… that’s amazin’. I’m happy for you, Krystal. Both of you.”
“I mean, duh,” Krystal says with an excited squeal. “We’re pretty cute.”
Sarah rolls her eyes, but she can’t keep the smile off her face.
“Hey, cheers,” she says, raising her glass. “To you and Veera.”
Krystal happily accepts the toast.
“We wanted you at the wedding, you know,” she says. “But like, how do you even get in touch with the Sarah Manning?”
“Seriously? Why would you want me there?” Sarah asks, confused. “Didn’t know you were that big a fan.”
Krystal stares back at her for a moment, frozen in disbelief.
“We’re friends, dummy. Didn’t you notice?”
The revelation hits like a kick to the chest. Every time she lost track of time at the hotel bar and was late for soundcheck, every afterparty spent at the back of a busy club, whisper-shouting to each other until the sun came up, the fact that she could name half a dozen cities with better venues and livelier crowds, and yet this was always the tour stop she looked forward to most.
And goddammit, now she really is crying.
“Aw, babes…” Krystal says softly, taking Sarah’s hand in hers.
“Shit, sorry,” Sarah mutters, desperately wiping her tears. “It’s embarrassin’, but I’ve got the band and… that’s it. Dunno how to do friends.”
“Well, lucky for you I’m like, the best friend ever,” Krystal chirps. She pulls out her phone. “Gimme your number.”
Sarah hesitates for just a moment before doing so.
“Y’know, there’s a million women out there who’d kill you for that number,” she says.
“Yeah, yeah, international sex symbol,” Krystal teases. “I’m soooo impressed. Don’t you have to be somewhere anyway?”
“Shit,” Sarah says, scrambling to pull her phone out. Four missed calls.
“Go on,” Krystal says, snickering. “You can pay me back after the show.”
“I love you, you know that?” Sarah says.
“Obvs.”
She’s halfway through the lobby when her phone buzzes with a text from an unknown number.
> Play drive tonight or I’ll beat your ass
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ventismacchiato · 1 year
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my first try with writing in english, just wanted to make smt extra sweet for you to read... ehe)
you don't feel anything, just extreme tiredness, not being able to waste such thing as feeling to express some kind of reaction to all stress you've been through just in a one fucking day. fuck working in tri-comission. even if it gives you plenty of money, it's not worth it like this.
you stop right before entering your house. living in one of the central districts of inazuma always was on another level of comfort for you, but now you're just annoyed with histle amd bustle of the streets.
another fact which makes you furrow your brows and finally feel something except burning anger in your chest is the lights in your windows. it's absence, to be precise.
your husband promised you he will be home by the time you finish all the work. he knows you have hard time at your job, so he told you this morning he'll make you some dango and also couple of your favourite dishes, just because you're gonna be tired by the time you come back.
where the fuck is that rascal?
"hey" soft voice besides you says. you hum, irritated.
"finally here to make fun of me?" you clench your teeth, practically hissing. you know you don't want to greet your husband like this, but you throw this thought away from your mind.
"look at you, just one word makes you so angry... no self-control at all, my dear" kunikuzuhi greets you in his usual manner. sometimes you don't understand just how you fell in love with an ass he was most of the time.
"shut the fuck up!" you scream at the top of your lungs, surprised with how your voice sounded not like it was yours at all.
the anger is filling you up, so does unexpected sadness. you're tired, you expected zushi will welcome you with warm food and gossip with you about dumb bitches from tri-comission, and then you'll come sleep in each other's arm, relaxing after a tough day, but your husband seemingly didn't care with keeping promises.
you feel tears falling down your face when you see zushi changes in his face immediately, grabbing you by the waist and leading you inside. he doesn't say anything, just hugs you, holding tight right after the front door is closed.
you mumble something, but don't evem understand what you are trying to say, only hearing kunikuzishi humming a very familiar melody as he softly swings with you in his arms from side to side. you feel his wearing getting all wet from your tears and this somehow makes you groan louder, increasing tears in your eyes.
"i wanna quit this job," you finally mumble, and zushi stops humming, surprised. you're not a complete workaholic, but this job, even being stressful at times, always makes you happy. why would his partner change their mind all of the sudden?
"now, now," kunikuzuhi strokes your head gently, brushing your hair. "why all of the sudden?"
and you cry again, sniff, then cry more. when you start hiccuping, zushi spftly smiles, pressing his lips on th side of your head.
"you wanna talk it out or you wanna distact yourself for a bit?"
and you tell him everything. how annoying was that kamisato ayato at the morning meeting, how absolutely awful was the list of goods for the next festival sent by tenryou comission, how you spent hours trying to convince that one of your colleagues, who practically is the dumbest bitch on teywat ever, that this list is absolute piece of garbage and the tenryou commission better make a new one even though there only month left before the fucking festival.
all wetness on your face is dry when you finish talking, your husband still hugging you, looking carefully at you, trying not to miss any little detail from that fucked up day of yours.
"darling, let me set the table and we will eat something disgustingly sweet. and wash your face, immediately, your make up is all- ugh" he doesn't manage to finish the sentence, flying off to the kitchen.
sometimes you just don't understand how he can be an ass and the cutest and most caring husband in the world.
- 🐚 anon
i’m gonna be honest the first time i read this i did tear up a little cus i wanna be cared for like that 😭 thank u for taking the time to write this for me it did cheer me up 🙁 even tho it makes me sad as well i rlly did like it ❤️ and ur english is great dw and also hi shell anon nice to meet u <33
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I. Would like to ask for a (romantic) match-up if that's okay 👁 because I've been into mystic messenger since I was...God, 15? Way back when it first came out. I'm in my early 20's now and once again replaying. These characters will forever hold my heart, I swear.
Okay. I'm not so sure where to start with this? I'm a college student, studying alternative medicine. Wanting to become a business owner in the future. (Herbal medicine, homeopathic medicine, etc.) I started this all because I watched a show one time where the girl was an herbalist, and I was like "wow I wish that was a real job." BUT THEN 5 MIN OF RESEARCH AND IT WAS I WAS MINDBLOWN, anyways so I've been at it for a couple of years, very passionate about it. I love to give my friends and family Herbal remedies to try and stuff, it makes me happy. On top of this, I love crystal healing (like reiki!) And I've been learning a lot of stuff like tarot and palm readings!
I have essentially two sides, pinky where I am my melody in the flesh, and then my kuromi side where I wear more HARDCORE fits (the hard-core in question: dark purple and black sweaters and black mini skirts lol). So just overall very girly. I'd say my main aesthetics are Cottagecore (currently redoing my room in all mushroom and strawberry themes!), fairycore, and then a whole lot of sanrio.
My humor? Awful. Bad. "Unfunny" except I'm actually hilarious. I tend to have a bit of darker humor, and I make a lot of dirty jokes. My friends say I have the humor of a 12 year old boy JAOSKEJDJD SO THERE IS THAT. I'm pretty energetic too!
I'm a writer in my free time, and though I say I like to read, I mainly just read fanfiction. I tend to get these characters I really like and obsess over them extremely for a long time. I get merch of them, I write about them, I stay up for longgg periods of time reading about them. Yeah it's bad, and even when I do one day date someone I ain't giving up my fictional men so they gotta deal, hahaha.
I struggle with explaining and showing my emotions. I grew up in a family where communication was not much of a thing, we either got mad and blew up at each other or gave each other the silent treatment. And I never liked this. Even when I'd cry they would get angry about it, and don't get me wrong they're great parents and I love them dearly, but communication and feelings have just always been hard with them, and therfor awful for me. I try my best though, I really do. And that's why in a relationship I desperately need someone patient and at least decent at communicating. Even when I'm bad. I mean I struggle to hug people and tell them how much I care about them a lot because of how I grew up, but I try so hard!!! I wanna break this cycle and have a healthy relationship!!!
I will add though I do somehow enjoy deep conversations. Like we could be talking about stupid stuff one second and then switch to a talk about our deepest life regrets or talk about just how we think the universe works. I like learning about how others think.
I let people walk all over me, I struggle to say no and I take on a lot more than I can handle sometimes to please other people. Anddd then inevitably burn out and isolate for a while. It's my toxic trait that I also need to work on lol.
But overall I'd say I'm fairly outgoing? I love love to talk and ramble about stuff. I'm not sure how much of this media you know but in case it helps my highest kins are Taiga (from Toradora), and then Hu Tao and Ganyu from genshin HOW I KIN BOTH OF THEM IDK I got two sides. My outside personality: Hu Tao vibe, my inside personality: Ganyu. And then Taiga is just actually so me ive never related to a character so hard. Ignore this part if you don't know the media :3
My love language is gift giving, I love to give people things and make people baked goods and write them things and aaa I just love it. Problem is I hate when people give things to me in return which they often feel like they have to. It just makes me feel bad and awkward to recieve gifts, it's another thing I need to work on. Receiving wise I'd love someone who's love language is....actually?? I'm not so sure?? I'd appreciate any, but I feel like quality time is the most important to me.
I'm a bit adventurous, while I like spending days at home I also like to go places and just explore and have fun. Being cooped up inside too much usually puts me in a depression, as I extremely found out during covid. I like to enjoy places with pretty scenery and nature over cities however, crowds do stress me out and I'm a teensy bit of a germaphobic (I say teensy but it's actually kind of not teensy. An awful habit I have is scrubbing my hands raw so they are always dry and in pain. Ironic for someone studying alt. medicine, huh? WORKING TO OVERCOME THOUGH)
I like to watch anime and play games like honkai impact and genshin impact. I love to cosplay pretty characters and go to conventions, I do tend to dress not so modestly however. Cosplays especially I wear revealing ones. My latest cosplan is Elysia from Honkai, her herrscher outfit specifically. I'm just decently confident(-ish) with my body and I like to show it off sometimes.
I fear this is becoming long so I wrap it up. In a relationship I DO NOT want kids. I do however want and value marriage. I need someone patient with me and understanding, and ideally affectionate? I love to dote on people and be doted on in return. And yeah! That's about all I got! I'm excited to see who my Kait assigned soulmate is, hehe. Whoever you pick I am 1000% gonna redo the route of. (Unless they're routeless, in which case fanfic time.)
I match you with...
Jumin.
Hear me out, that might sound wild given that he might not share all of your values on a surface level. But, you have a lot more in common than you think, and you can learn and grow with each other in a way I imagine would be fruitful. You're the kind of person who wants to do something for the world. You want to see some change in a way that can do more than you'd be doing if you were just another part of the machine. You want people to heal in a way that's right for them, not just physically, but emotionally, as well. You see the value in trying to reach someone from all angles.
That kind of out-of-the-box thinking is what works for Jumin. Do you think he acts in the guise of knowing something? He doesn't. He will travel to new avenues and look for better answers when something is not working anymore. He loves to listen, talk, and designate the best way to make changes for customers and employees. The two of you are best described as problem solvers who need to see something in this world move for the better. That's why you can talk for hours and hours about anything with Jumin. You both value discussion in a way that nobody else understands.
But, what you get with Jumin is someone who really won't push you around. Not just in conversation, but in life. He wants to see you grow to a point where you can say "no". He wants you to look everyone in the eyes and say what you mean. You deserve to be heard. Your voice is valuable. He won't let anyone step on you, not even himself. Sure, he will kick himself for the way he treated you during his route, but he learns, listens, and grows to be the kind of man you deserve.
All and all, your life is Jumin is about the two of you. Your family is the RFA and that's all you need. You both love to take care of each other! It's sweet that you'll have a race to see who can make breakfast first just to surprise the other... races to the kitchen aren't unheard but... let me tell you, Elizabeth beats the two of you there every time. She has the zoomies.
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