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zegrasdrysdale · 2 months

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[ photograph ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) decides to fly out to Philly for Valentine’s Day after watching Jamie say in an interview that he’ll probably be spending the day alone

warning(s) : just some tooth rotting fluff with no angst for once, a heavy makeout

author’s note : this is just a (not so) lil fluff filled thing bc i wanted to write something for belated valentine’s day. sorry or you’re welcome (idk)

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“Yeah, uh, I don’t actually have any plans tomorrow,” he explains to a reporter through the screen on her phone. “Everyone I know here does have plans and everyone else I know is across the country so I’ll most likely spend the day putting together furniture in my new apartment.”

That was the moment she decided that she was getting on the first flight she possibly could to Philly so Jamie didn’t spend Valentine’s Day alone. No one should have to spend the day alone. She doesn’t have any plans and she’s off from work for about two weeks because they’re doing renovations so a little trip to Philadelphia doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.

Last year he spent the day with Trevor on the couch and watched movies in their shared apartment. This year, he is in Philly and Trevor actually has a girlfriend. Not very ideal for Jamie.

She isn’t Jamie’s girlfriend, but she is one of his best friends and could never let him be alone on Valentine’s Day. Especially not after hearing what his actual plans are for tomorrow. She’s going to at least help him put furniture together in his apartment.

A flight out of LAX is scheduled for 10 that night. It’s six so she has about two hours to pack for a week long trip to Philly. She even buys a ticket for Saturday’s game at MetLife since she wants to see Jamie play a game while she’s in Philly.

By eight, she’s out the door with a suitcase that’s packed full of clothes and non-liquid toiletries. The jersey Jamie sent her about a week after the trade is neatly folded with the rest of her clothes. She orders an Uber to drive her to the airport.

While in the Uber, she debates texting Jamie and telling him that she’ll be at his new apartment early tomorrow morning since she’ll be landing a little before six in the morning. It’ll probably take about 45 minutes after she lands before she’s on Jamie’s doorstep.

Maybe a surprise wouldn’t be the worst thing so she puts her phone away until she has to pull out her plane ticket.

Getting on the plane takes an hour between getting past TSA and buying snacks for the nearly five hour flight. She boards the plane twenty minutes before it takes off so she has time to get comfortable.

She’s asleep before the plane even leaves the ground.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

All the snacks she bought before the flight are going to be the snacks she eats while she’s in Philly because she slept for the entire flight. It didn’t feel like she slept for 5 hours but she did.

By six, she’s at baggage claim and grabbing her suitcase. She orders an Uber to Voorhees while she waits for her things. The car is waiting for her when she get outside.

It’s a lot colder out than she thought it was going to be. All she has on is a Ducks hoodie that Jamie gave to her the year before and a pair of leggings with Uggs on her feet. Her feet are warm. The rest of her is not. She shakes as she puts her things in the trunk of the car.

She gives the driver Jamie’s new address and she’s off to surprise her best friend.

The closer she gets to Jamie’s, the more nervous she gets. What if he found someone after moving to the Philly area? What if the whole putting furniture together comment was a lie so he didn’t announce to the entire world he was in a relationship? What if he doesn’t want her there in general?

Maybe a spontaneous trip across the country without at least letting Jamie know she was coming wasn’t the best idea she’s ever had.

A call comes through from Trevor. Confused, she answers the phone. “Good morning?”

“Are you in Philly?” he asks.

“Maybe,” she slowly replies as she watches the Philly skyline pass. “Why? It’s like three in the morning.”

“Not for you apparently,” he retorts. “I looked to see where you were because Mason said you weren’t replying to his texts so I wanted to make sure you were okay and I see that you flew across the country.”

She smiles and shakes her head. The way Trevor would find out she’s in Philly is by checking her location. He and Jamie are the only ones that have her location because she’s closest with them.

“Just wanted to surprise Jamie,” she tells Trevor. “That’s all. Tell Mason I’ll call him later because I’m about ten minutes away from Jamie’s apartment.”

“You gonna tell him you love him?” Trevor questions. She opens her mouth to object but he keeps talking. “It’s so freaking obvious so don’t even lie to me.”

A nervous laugh passes her lips. “We’ll see,” she replies. “I’ll talk to you later, Z.”

“Tell me how he’s really doing,” he tells her. “I worry about him sometimes.”

“Will do,” she says as the driver pulls up to Jamie’s place. “Talk soon.”

The line goes dead and she looks out the window at the apartment building. Jamie’s somewhere in there asleep and she’s about two minutes away from calling him to come let her into the building.

She gets her things out of the trunk and thanks the driver before he drives off to pick someone else up. She sighs and pulls up Jamie’s contact.

When she presses the ‘call’ button, it rings about four times before Jamie answers. The entire time, her hands are shaking and she isn’t sure if it’s because of the cold or if she’s nervous to see Jamie for the first time since the trade.

“It’s like four in the morning,” he croaks when he picks up. “Are you okay?”

She smiles at the sound of his morning voice. “Actually it’s almost seven in the morning and I’m currently freezing my ass off outside your apartment building so if you could come let me in, that would be great,” she says.

It sounds like Jamie falls out of bed when she says that she’s outside of the building. If he broke anything then she’s going to have to explain to Torts why Jamie will be out for six weeks.

He isn’t holding any body parts when he swings the door open and blankly stares at her from the top of the steps of the building. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to decide if he’s still dreaming or if he’s awake. She waves and a barefoot Jamie runs down the stairs to hug her.

A laugh passes her lips and she wraps her arms around his torso. “You’re actually here,” he says against her ear. “I thought you were lying to me.”

“Nope,” she replies. “I’m here. I didn’t have anything else to do so I thought I’d come surprise you. Help you put together some furniture for Valentine’s Day.”

Jamie pulls back from the hug just enough to look at her. “You saw that interview?” he asks.

With a nod and a smile, she replies, “It sounded like a very boring way to spend Valentine’s Day so I thought I’d come keep you company. Maybe watch you play at the outdoor game this weekend. I have another week off from work and spending it in the Philly area with my best friend didn’t sound like the worst idea.”

“You are actually insane for buying a plane ticket without knowing if I’d be here or not,” he tells her. “I could’ve left for Toronto before you got here since we play them tomorrow.”

“Yeah I know how your travel schedule works,” she retorts. “That’s how I knew you’d be here.”

He shakes his head and grabs her suitcase. “You have some of the best timing because I took a maintenance day today so I have a day off from practice, but I leave tomorrow morning for Toronto,” he says to her as they walk into the building together.

“Listen, I’m spending a week in the area,” she replies. “I get to watch you play at the outdoor game on Saturday when I wasn’t planning on being on the east coast at all. If you’re gone for a day or two then it’s fine.”

The smile that forms on Jamie’s face makes her heart do somersaults in her stomach.

She can tell how excited he is that she decided to visit him. She knows how much he has been missing Anaheim so she brought Anaheim to him for a week.

When Jamie opens the door to the apartment, she is very surprised by how decorated it is and how much of the stuff he had in his Anaheim apartment has made its way to this one. It still needs some work done, but that is why she’s here. She’s here to help him finish putting it all together.

“I need to build some shelves,” Jamie tells her. “And put together the guest bedroom. The frame still needs to be built for the guest bed too. This is what my plans were for the day.”

She turns her head to look at him as he closes the door behind them. “So it wasn’t come ruse so you didn’t have to admit to the world that you had a secret girlfriend?” she questions.

If she should expect Jamie to have a girl over then she might as well get the girlfriend question out of the way early on in her visit.

“Uh, no,” he replies. “No secret girlfriend. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had any time to find a girlfriend. Yorky has tried but he’s not the best wingman.”

She can’t help but laugh. Jamie smiles and rolls her suitcase to the unfinished bedroom.

She decides to make some coffee for the two of them so they can get started on the day’s plans. They have to put together the guest room and build some shelves. It can’t be very hard to do either of those things. Right?

Wrong.

It turns out that Jamie can’t follow simple instructions to save his life. She has had to refrain from throwing whatever is in her hand at him so many times because he can’t read a piece of paper.

“Jamie, what am I supposed to do with this screw?” she asks as she holds up an extra screw. “Do I have to put it in your head so you can use your brain or something? You missing one in there? Do I need to get Trevor on the first flight out of LAX to come help you figure out how to read the instructions?”

Jamie looks up from his spot on the floor and throws the instructions at her. “Here, you try to read this and tell me if it makes any sense,” he retorts. “It’s all confusing. My parents helped me build shelves when they came to visit a few weeks ago. I didn’t have to do this. Maybe it’s just an extra.”

She grabs the pamphlet and reads the directions. The screw was supposed to be put in when putting the shelves in place. A shelf is missing a screw.

“You dumbass,” she says. “It’s not an extra screw. It was supposed to be put in on the bottom shelf to make sure it is secure and even. You now have an unsecure shelf in your guest room.”

Jamie flattens out on his back on the carpeted floor with a groan. “This is why I’m a hockey player and don’t work in home improvement,” he says as he rubs his eyes. She laughs and tries to keep her eyes on his face instead of on the sliver of skin that peeks out between what is a new Flyers t-shirt and pajama pants. “This is so dumb. I am not about to take that whole thing apart to put one screw in.”

She walks over and slaps the pamphlet on his stomach. He gasps and sits up with the paper in his hands. “Then get it together, Drysdale,” she tells him. “We have a bed frame to build.”

“Fuck the bed frame,” he sighs as she grabs the box in the corner and drags it into the center of the room. “You don’t need a bed to sleep in tonight.”

With a light laugh, she teases, “If we don’t get it set up then I’m gonna be sleeping in your bed until we get it put together.”

Jamie mutters something that sounds like “would be okay with me” but she pretends she doesn’t hear it. She can’t hear it or else she will just say “fuck it” and sleep in Jamie’s bed the entire time she’s here instead of putting the bed together.

The mattress is sitting up against the wall next to where the box with the bed frame was. He has everything he needs to put this bed together and he hasn’t done it yet. Not even over the All Star break when he had a few days off before going to Mexico with the Flyers.

Putting the bed together takes less time and a lot less arguing back and forth. Within an hour, the mattress is on top of the bed frame. Five-foot-eleven 185 pound Jamie flops on the mattress to make sure it’s secure and won’t fall apart if someone were to jump on it.

They do not need to have another shelf problem with the bed that she will most likely be sleeping on while she’s in the area. If it is like the shelf and it’s not safe to sleep on then the couch is in the living room for a reason.

The two of them stand in the doorway and look at their work when they decide the bed is secure. “We make an amazing team,” she comments. “Aside from the shelf.”

Jamie groans and walks down the hallway to his own room. “Shelves are stupid anyway,” he replies. “Who is actually going to use them in this room aside from me just putting a handful of books and pictures on them?” She laughs and goes to unpack her stuff now that it’s safe to do so without stepping on wood, metal or a screw on the floor.

The Flyers jersey that he sent her gets hung up in the closet along with her shirts, hoodies, and nicer pants. She’ll pull bras, panties, and socks out of the suitcase as needed. The beanie she brought to wear on Saturday is put on the bedside table.

Then she pulls out the gift that she brought for Jamie. It isn’t much but she’s hoping that it means as much to him as it does to her. The pictures she brought were taken at such important moments in Jamie’s career and she hopes that he doesn’t mind having a few pictures of his best friend around the apartment.

She walks down to Jamie’s bedroom and knocks gently on the door. There are footsteps behind it before the door swings open. “I, um, had these printed and framed in case I ever came to visit you,” she tells him as she holds out the three picture frames. “Thought you might need some décor.”

Jamie looks down at the pictures and shifts through them.

One of them was taken on Jamie’s Draft Day. He has on a Ducks jersey and she has on his Ducks hat. He looks so happy. He has an arm around her shoulders while he holds up six fingers and is smiling at the camera. She has a smile on his face and is looking up at him with a proud look on her face. Messy ponytail and all.

The second one was taken the day Jamie made his NHL debut and scored his first goal. It’s a selfie she took of her, Jamie, and Trevor at dinner that same night. They’re both holding their pucks because they went right from the arena to a restaurant to eat.

The third one was taken during the 2021 World Juniors tournament where Canada placed second. She’s putting the silver medal back around his neck after he had given it to her. “Silver just means you lost” is what he had said to her a moment before this was captured. She had told him that she was a winner to him and put the medal back around his neck. There is heavy eye contact between the two of them in their matching jerseys.

It was as the third picture was being taken she realized that she loved Jamie. The first two pictures, she knew she had feelings for him, but the third was when she realized that she wanted to be there for him as more than just a friend.

“I had no idea you had any of these,” he says after he’s done looking through them. Jamie looks up at her. “All at different points of my career.”

“Been with you since day one,” she replies with a smile on her face. “You didn’t think that I wouldn’t be here with you while you succeed in a whole new city, did you?”

Jamie laughs and shakes his head. “Absolutely not,” he tells her. “You always make sure you’re a presence in my life.” He pauses and looks right at her. “It’s one of the things I love most about having you in my life.”

She could almost cry when he says that.

There have been so many times over the years where she thought she was annoying or that he wanted her out of his life. She followed him to California when he started playing with the Gulls then the Ducks. He asked her to come with him, but she thought for months it was out of pity.

He has erased years of insecurity with one comment.

“Thanks for keeping me in your life,” she replies after a brief moment of silence.

“You’re like Trevor,” he teases. “You’re always around. It would be hard for me to get rid of you.”

She smiles up at him. “Except he would never fly across the country to see you,” she retorts. “Especially without at least telling you he was coming to see you.”

Jamie laughs. “No, he wouldn’t.”

They look at each other for a second before he walks past her. He has the picture frames in his hand as he walks into the living room. She follows him even though she is confused with what he’s doing.

He puts the picture of himself, Trevor, and (Y/N) on the coffee table under the lamp next to the couch. It’s the most public place in the entire place so it makes sense that that’s the picture that is put in the living room.

The picture of the two of them on Draft Day goes on a little table that leads to the hallway with both bedrooms and bathrooms. The table is under a little mirror that’s been hung up. A little less public but it also joins the other pictures that were taken that day. It looks like it belongs.

Jamie glances at her and walks back into his bedroom. She follows right behind him and stands in the doorway of his room. Her eyes are on the picture of the two of them at the 2021 World Juniors as it’s placed on Jamie’s bedside table.

“This one means the most to me so it deserves a little more privacy than the others,” Jamie tells her without a look in her direction. “You were there for me and picked me up when I was down. I didn’t want anyone else there but you. You were the one that convinced me silver was okay. The team worked hard to get to that moment. The medal was very well deserved because we did everything we could to make it to that game. I did everything I could to get the team to that game. We just came up a little bit short.”

She pouts and walks further into the room. He finally looks over at her. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” she softly says to him. “I didn’t know that I was the person that convinced you it was okay to wear silver around your neck.”

“I needed silver because my gold medal was you,” Jamie shakily admits. His voice is soft. “You’re my gold medal.”

His words have her speechless. Her jaw drops in surprise. She has no idea why he’s saying this to her now.

He reaches out to her and brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She takes a step forward and feels her heart race in her chest as she looks up at him. Her body shakes as she realizes that their relationship is changing.

A line that she never expected to cross is about to be crossed. She can see it in Jamie’s eyes as they examine her face, landing on her lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

She nods because she doesn’t trust herself to speak. She is afraid that she’s going to admit how long she’s been in love with him if she says a single words.

So she nods, and Jamie leans down to capture her lips in a soft, hesitant kiss. He’s testing the waters to see if she’ll push him away.

She’ll never push him away.

Not when she finally has him like this. Not when she finally knows what it feels like to kiss Jamie Drysdale.

When she feels him begin to pull away, she wraps her arms around his neck and leans more into him to deepen the kiss instead of Jamie breaking it. Her fingers find a home in his hair.

She is scared he will regret it if the kiss breaks, and she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want to see that look. It might break her if he looks at her like that if the kiss breaks.

Jamie cups her cheek and brushes his thumbs over her cheekbone. She melts against him with a sigh.

“(Y/N),” he mumbles after a second. “I need to breathe.”

That’s when she lets him pull away. The sight of his red, swollen lips and unruly hair is almost too much for her. There’s a hint of a smile on his face and something overcomes her.

“I love you,” she tells him. “I’ve loved you since that was taken.” She points in the direction of the picture on his bedside table. “It’s always been you, Jamie. That’s why I flew across the country on Valentine’s Day. I wanted to be with you today because I miss you and I love you.”

Jamie smiles and brushes his thumb over her own lips that are as red and swollen as his are. “I love you too,” he says. “I think I’ve been in love with you since I saw you at my first NHL game in my jersey. I’m very happy you came to the east coast to watch me play in the Stadium Series game this weekend. I was going to probably fly you out anyway.”

She laughs and shakes her head before burying her face in his chest. They’ve been in love with each other for years and are only now saying something about it after Jamie was traded to Philly and she’s stuck in Anaheim for right now.

“Only took me bringing you pictures to finally kiss me,” she teases.

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up and come here.”

Their lips meet in a heated kiss. Everything they’ve been feeling is coming out in the kiss. Jamie tugs her until she is sitting on his lap while he’s sitting on the mattress. She drapes her arms over his shoulders.

It’s that moment when she realizes they put together a whole bed for no reason because there is now no way she is getting in that bed now.

She pushes him down until Jamie is lying flat on his back and their chests are flush against each other. Her hair creates a curtain around their faces despite his fingers curling in her locks.

“Wait, hold on,” Jamie says. She pulls back from the kiss. “Have something to ask you before we get distracted.”

“Hm?”

“Will you come to family skate on Friday before the game at MetLife?” he asks. “As my girlfriend?”

The biggest smile forms on her lips. “You’re going to have to give me skating lessons because despite watching you play hockey for years, I have no idea how to skate,” she tells him.

“I will give you skating lessons,” Jamie laughs. “You’ll come though?”

She nods and kisses him. “I’ll come.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

yourusername

liked by jamie.drysdale, philadelphiaflyers, and 193,872 others

yourusername life recently w my 🤍

view all 15,982 comments

fan1 JAMIE HAS A GIRLFRIEND ????

masonmctavish23 ig i forgive you for not answering my texts last week

yourusername we can hang out when i get back into cali on wednesday

masonmctavish23 good. i’m mad that jamie stole you from us

fan2 oh my god. this is so cute

fan3 you were at metlife ??? i think i walked past you at one point

yourusername i had on the drysdale jersey

trevorzegras oh this is all i’m gonna hear about when she gets back

leocarlssoon it’s about time. i was praying this would happen bc the way jamie talked about you was insane

jamie.drysdale let me live !!

philadelphiaflyers Thanks for coming out

jamie.drysdale skating w my girlfriend for the first time was the best feeling 🩵

yourusername being your girlfriend is the best feeling

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ilovethecolorpink · 5 years

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college is just *goes fucking insane*

#my roommate.#having no social life bc all i do is work.#having 3 and a half friends.#spending the weekends nearly constantly alone and hiding on friday and saturday nights so no one thinks ur a loser #im miserable and like it goes away when im distracted by doing work and stuff #like i like my school i just idk #i fucking despise my roommate shes the worst part i think im going to my ra tomorrow bc i cant fuvking take another day of her being #inconsiderate towards me #like if u wanna wait til midnight to do homework fine but do it anywhere fucking else #i wanna sleep #im crying in bed for the 48291 time bc of her ha ha ha #im sorry for being sad i can only just bottle it in for so long and im also just so fucking angry #ive started being like purposely loud and shit while shes sleeping and im getting ready cuz its not like she tries to be quiet when im #sleeing or doesnt turn off her five MILLION LOUD ASS ALARMS THAT GO OFF AT 7 AM THAT SHE NEVER NEEDS OR GETS UP TO BC SHE GOES RIGHT BACK TO #SLEEP. GOD #shes doesnt talk to me and the one time she did she had the AUDACITY to ask me to drive her to the train station at 6:30 in the morning #like no. fuck you #i just want thanksgiving break and then winter break is soon after but its all so far away :(#mine

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ddaenggtan · 4 years

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Half-Baked Holiday | ksj | M

Granny Park’s Gossip:

That Seokjin, don’t get me started on him. He’s worked hard to open and run that bakery of his, you know, and I’m so proud that it’s so successful now. Wish he would find a nice person to settle down with, though, he deserves it, as long as he’s been on his own. Well, I guess you can’t really call it alone when he’s got that grump of a best friend always hanging around him. He really should be paying her, what with all the time she spends at the bakery with him. She’s always waking up on the wrong side of the bed, but she’s not so bad when she brings me some of those cookies of his, or just around Seokjin in general, if I’m honest. Too distracted by staring at that pretty face of his, I suppose, though who can blame her?

pairing } seokjin x reader

word count } 12.6K { also on ao3

genre } friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, bakery au, fluff, smut, literally the slightest bit of angst

warnings } fluff, fluff, fluff; jin is an idiot and so is the MC, like they’re genuinely both dumbasses but in different ways; pining; misunderstandings; masturbation, spanking, unprotected sex, oral sex - male receiving, exhibitionism a little, rolling pins are used in ways they are not intended to be used; several mentions of jins squeaky laugh and also his red ears bc they’re my favorite things in the world

{ The Snowball Effect Series Masterlist }

a/n } whaddup i finally finished this thing barely on time so yEET i yet again maintain my status as queen of last minute deadlines!!!! HBH is my Baby, I love it, it’s my perfect shiny garbage baby, and if you like it, you should DEF check out the others!! They can be read as standalones, but it’s really really really really really really highly recommended that you read them all in order, as they all end up in the same place and there are a ton of little easter eggs and references and shoutouts woven into the entire series!!! Extra special shoutout to the authors of all the other stories, @fortunexkookie (ryn), @taehyungforreal (ashley), @stutterfly (kristi, who also made the incredible banners!!!)

You're a good person. You pride yourself on being kind and giving. Every year you make donations to several charities. You help organize summer fundraisers so kids can eat. You buy the most ethically-sourced groceries possible. You leave your change in case someone else can use it. You always tip at least 20% when you go out to eat. Out of everything, though, of all the good deeds you try to do in your life, there's one thing that makes you a truly outstanding human being.

You don't lose your fucking mind every time the urge hits you.

"But how many calories are in the Holiday Donut?" The lady in front of you asks. You can feel your eye twitching and even the young guy behind the register is starting to falter in his bright grin.

"Um, I'm not-"

"Look lady," You cut in. "You have heard about nearly every thing on the fucking menu. It's a donut, stuffed with strawberry creme and coated in colored frosting and sprinkles. How many calories do you think are in it? Just order the banana nut muffin like you always do, get your coffee, and leave, so the rest of us aren't stuck in a line for another hour."

The lady looks scandalized as she turns to glare at you, but all it takes is a single cocked eyebrow to send her huffing out the door. She mutters a few choice words under her breath as she goes, but you pay them no mind.

"Your usual is almost ready, Pumpkin." You level Jin with an unamused glare as he pushes his way through the kitchen doors with a steaming tray of scones in hand.

"You know I hate that name, Spice," You remind him dryly.

"You know I hate it when you run my customers off with that dark cloud you call a personality, and yet here we both are," he responds. He just smiles at your eyeroll and you do your best to ignore the fluttering in your stomach. Instead you make yourself comfortable on one of the barstools at the counter.

Seokjin's bakery is as busy as it ever is; several of the tables are taken, either by students on their nth espresso or families doing holiday shopping or people just looking for a place to relax amidst the bustle of the streets. There's someone perched on the stool at the opposite end, close to the register, but you pay them no mind. You're too focused on the mug Jin slides in front of you - green and chipped on the handle, it's your favorite - and the steam wafting up from the cocoa inside. There's a thick layer of marshmallow on the top and a candy cane sticking out, just like you like it, and a Holiday Bagel on a small plate next to it.

"Thanks. You're still an ass, though." He has the decency to look offended at your words, and you grit your teeth against the smile that threatens to split your face. He always looks so cute when he's huffy.

"One of these days I'm going to make you start paying for your food like everyone else, and then you'll start treating me right."

"Sure," You agree in a monotone as you pull your phone out and start tapping away on it. "That'll be the same day that you stop asking me to do your books for you because you can't be bothered."

The sigh that expels itself from his lungs is almost as dramatic as the play he dragged you to the week before.

"I am perfectly capable of doing my books myself, thank you. I let you do it to keep you busy."

"Mhm, sure, I believe that," You tell him. He scoffs again and you barely register the hand he shoots forward to steal your bagel before you're slapping it away. "You don't even like strawberries and kiwi, Seokjin, and you will lose a hand."

You don't look up from the emails you're sorting through on your phone, but you don't have to in order to know that he's got both elbows braced on either side of you. You've known him long enough to know that this is his Pout Stance, and you dare not look up because there's no denying him when he looks like that.

"You're so mean to me, Pumpkin. All I do is spoil you with good food and perfect company," he whines, "And what do I get for it? Insults and mockery. You could at least give me a kiss every now and then."

You choke on your cocoa. It burns your nose as it starts to come up that way, and the dark liquid dances across your phone screen as it molds to every crack and crevice.

"Goddamn it, Seokjin," You sputter. He's already holding a cloth out to you, apology written on his face even as you glare at him. You pat your phone dry as best you can before resigning yourself to the fact that it's just going to smell like warm chocolate and peppermint until the next time your best friend flusters you.

"To be fair, I didn't expect you to be so opposed to the idea," Seokjin mutters. He continues under his breath as you wave off his attempt to help again, something about him being handsome enough, but you aren't listening. Because that's the only real problem between the two of you.

You aren't opposed to the idea. It's all you can think about most days; in work meetings, while you're doing paperwork, in team briefings, while you watch TV, when you're asleep. What his pillow lips would feel like against your own occupies nearly every waking thought you have. The others are torn between fantasies of what being his would be like and memories of him in general, neither of which you're lacking in.

You've known Seokjin for years. You don't even know how long since you insist you met when you were twelve and Jin is just as insistent that you met when you were nine. All you remember is being alone on the side of a playground playing hopscotch by yourself and then giggling at something the nice boy had said and then the two of you were inseparable. You aren't even sure how long you've felt like this towards him. It could've been high school, when he was one of the most sought after boys in school and yet still made time to comfort you every time a boy rejected you. Maybe it was college, though, when he was further away than he'd ever been and yet always answered your calls and responded to your texts and you'd cancel dates because he had randomly driven up to see you. Maybe it was after, watching him run his own bakery and do what he loves every day with the brightest grin you've ever seen on his face.

You can't be sure. All you know is one day you were washing dishes in the back after being his guinea pig for some new creation, and he told some dumb joke, and when you turned around to mock his squeaky laugh like usual, you couldn't. Because he had flour on his cheek and chocolate on his lip and you'd never wanted to kiss someone so bad in your life.

And then it just devolved from there and now the butterflies in your stomach have just set up camp. It's been too long, but you can't risk your friendship with him over some stupid crush. He means too much to you.

Your eyes don't leave his back as he disappears back into the kitchen, still complaining about something under his breath, and you suppress a sigh.

Shopping is the worst. You aren't really sure why you're here, because you hate shopping and you hate crowds and you especially hate holiday shopping because it's like Satan himself smashed the two together. You get all your gifts online or early in the year, you don't go anywhere near a mall from October to March, and it works for you. You don't have to deal with holiday crowds. Ever. So why are you on hour five at the largest mall in driving distance with no breakfast, sore feet, and full bags hanging from every possible place they can?

"Does that really seem like something Taehyung would like, though? I got that jacket for him already, I know, but this seems so much more fitting. What do you think, Pumpkin?"

Oh. Right. Seokjin had showed up at Too Damn Early For A Saturday O'Clock and demanded you accompany him for his holiday shopping.

"I think that if I don't eat something in the next ten minutes, I'm ripping your head off and eating that instead. And for dessert I'll demolish those fancy chocolates you got for Jimin." A passing mother gives you a horrified glance as she ushers her toddler along and you almost wish you gave a shit. It's the mall, she can't control what other people say in this hellhole. You probably could’ve done without the emphasis on Jimin, though; Jin knows how much you worship those chocolates, you’ve said countless times that they’re better than orgasms, and still, he got some for Jimin and not you.

You aren’t bitter. Or petty. No. You’re an adult, and you’re not going to pout just because your crush got your mutual friends some sweets instead of you.

"If you touch those chocolates, you're going to march your ass right back to that store and replace them while I return all your gifts," Seokjin quips back. You glance over at him and wrinkle your nose at the two berets he has in each hand.

"What the fuck are you doing, Spice?"

“Wondering when you’re going to listen when I talk to you,” He responds. He holds both of the berets up for you to view more clearly. “Now, which of these is more ‘Tae’ to you?” He doesn’t react to the blank glare you give him, long since immune to your powers of pessimism, and instead just wiggles the berets in each hand so you actually look at them.

Neither are to your personal taste; one is diamond-encrusted in some kind of quilted pattern, with some kind of alternating animal print as well. The other is more understated, if you can call it that, with a faux-fur trim, a feathered poof in the center, and a truly obscene pink houndstooth pattern to it. You can’t help the wrinkled nose that the two options cause in you, and you ignore Seokjin’s huff of irritation in favor of looking past him to the rest of the options. You only have to look for a minute to find something better suited, which mostly means Jin wanted to give Tae something truly gaudy on purpose.

“Here,” You say, stuffing the hat into his hands. He stops mid-rant - something about how you should be helping him more, though you aren’t sure why because he’s the one that dragged you here and is lucky you haven’t bailed yet - and focuses on what you’ve just given him. It’s not a pretty beret, by any means, and is by far the cheapest one there, but it’s got some kind of artful splatter across it in greyscale tones, with a pop of red around the rim to accent it. Seokjin just stares at it for a second before turning his gaze on you, and you shift uncomfortably.

“What?” You eventually ask.

“Nothing,” He says airily. “Just surprised.”

“At what?”

“You paying attention to people and being able to buy good gifts.” He puts the other two back into place and heads towards the registers, ignoring your indignant squawk.

“I get you perfect gifts every year!” You don’t miss his eyeroll, and it makes you want to strangle him a little.

“I don’t count,” He tells you as he settles in behind some grandmother buying entirely too many things that have to be for her grandkid. “You know me better than anyone, and you have access to my Amazon wishlist.”

“Yeah, except none of that is on your fucking wishlist,” You mutter. He turns, eyebrow arched and ready to get more backtalk, but you just make a face at him.

He drags you to five more stores after that and abandons you in the middle of Williams Sonoma. You’re on your third lap of the store, ready to disassemble the fancy grill they’ve got on display to see if he’s somehow in there, when he appears, probably from the ether or some shit. You’re still trying to figure out how he managed to phase through time and space and the massive shelf of Martha Stewart Collection Cookware without you noticing, and in the meantime he takes the massive amount of bags from your hands and deposits something in your palms instead.

It takes you a minute to register the warmth, but the smell hits instantly and makes your stomach grumble loudly. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so fucking hungry.

“Eat,” Seokjin commands. “We’ve got more shopping to do for the bakery.”

You can’t even argue because your mouth is stuffed full of pizza pretzel bites - the only real reason to come to the mall, in your opinion. You’ve inhaled one serving in record time, and Jin doesn’t even react when you bust into the second one in the middle of some tech store. Instead, he just holds out a hand and waits for you to plop a pretzel bite in his palm.

It’s hours later, long after you’ve helped Seokjin drop off all the bakery supplies at the shop and carted the presents up to his apartment, that you realize you’re still holding on to the bag from the pretzel place. You’re about to toss it into your garbage when it registers that there’s too much weight for just garbage; curious, you open the bag up and dump the content onto your kitchen counter.

Inside is a small box of chocolates, the same kind you’d threatened to eat earlier in the day, your favorite flavor and everything, with a small note atop it.

These were supposed to be part of your gift, but you looked put out when you thought I wasn’t getting you any. Thanks for today. xxSpice

You resist the urge to smile; it’s only right that he give you sweets after the frankly absurd amount of time he’d made you spend at the mall. Still, you can’t deny your lip twitches along with your heart at the knowledge that he’d been planning on including them in your gift.

And you might tuck the note away behind a postcard on your fridge, but you’re never going to admit to that.

The next day when you get to the bakery, Seokjin doesn't hesitate to shove you into his small office and push you into his desk chair before he disappears back into the kitchen. The usually cluttered space is empty, devoid of the usual invoices and order forms and whatever the fuck else your best friend keeps on his desk. Even the picture frames have been moved, placed haphazardly atop a filing cabinet. Something flutters in your chest when you notice the one directly facing his chair is one of the two of you.

Taken years and years ago, back when you were first moving into your college dorm, when you were both tired from carrying boxes up the seven flights of stairs to your room. You still remember how irritated you had been when Jin's parents insisted they get a picture of the two of you in your matching university hoodies. You don't remember what it was, but you remember Seokjin cracked some dumb joke or said something ridiculous. He must have, because in the picture, you're looking at him with a softness in your face that isn't present any other time.

Seokjin reappears with a steaming mug and a hand behind his back. The familiar scent of warm chocolate and peppermint hits you, followed closely by the warm-butter sharp-mint honey-glaze smell that you remember taste-testing for him so many times that you're almost positive it’s going to linger on your gravestone.

"That's mistledough." You narrow your eyes, and he rolls his own. His hand pulls out from behind his back to reveal the treat he'd concocted in college and perfected not long after. Shaped like a sprig of mistletoe and a warm honey brown color, the mistledough is easily the best selling product that Seokjin has.

And it's only on sale from Black Friday to the first day of January.

You don't even know what's in it. He's never told you, hasn't let you watch him make it; he'd just show up randomly and shove a weird-shaped treat under your nose and tell you to eat it. And of course you did, because you've been whipped for him since the first day he made you smile on that playground.

It's not important, really. What's important is that he's brought you cocoa and mistledough, which means he's bribing you for something important.

"No," You tell him.

"Please," He pouts. "You don't even know what it is yet." You huff and look anywhere else. His pout is dangerous for you and you know it, and you refuse to be bought for some cocoa and bread.

In an attempt to avoid the puppy dog eyes he no doubt is wearing, your eyes flit around the room. They eventually settle on the mass of shopping bags to your right. You turn, seeing the collection of various wrapping papers on the left and the collection of tape beside them.

"No," You repeat, turning your glare on him. "Wrap your own damn presents, Spice, I'm not doing it for you this year."

"But you do it so much better than I do!" He steps forward, setting his bribes in front of you so the scent wafts towards you that much more. "Your corners are always perfect, Pumpkin, and the edges are so well matched, and you get the pattern to line up perfectly, and-"

"No, Jin," You tell him, already standing. "I told you last year that it was the last time I'd be doing it for you, and that was only because you left it to the day before - again - and had to be in the bakery. I already wrapped all my presents, I'm not doing yours too."

He doesn't even say anything. He just widens his eyes a little and looks down at the scuffed tile floor, kicking his shoe dejectedly against the foot of the desk. There's utter silence in the room, only broken by the muffled chatter of customers and the beep of one of the ovens every few minutes.

You last for a solid ten minutes. You know because the smell of more mistledough fills the air, and you know Seokjin wouldn't try to bribe you with anything that wasn't the freshest batch.

"Why can't you do it?" You grumble, already sitting back down and picking through the wrapping paper.

"I've got like a hundred orders to fill today. That's not even really an exaggeration, either. Soobin's been on cake duty all day so that I can get to work on the mistledough orders and still have time to finish Tae's cake before we leave." You sigh and turn to look at him.

He looks stressed; that's not unusual for this time of year, but it still makes your chest clench. You want to pull him close, run your hands along the furrow between his brows until it's smooth again. Smother him with kisses until he's giggling and happy and remembers that he's a badass culinary god and that he can handle this and that you love him.

"I wish you would tell people no sometimes," You say instead. You slide one of the biodegradable rolls onto the desk and start looking through the drawers for the massive ruler you know is tucked away somewhere. "You can't fill every order. Let people pine for their fancy bread, they don't deserve it anyway."

"You know I can't do that, Pumpkin," He says, breaking off a piece of your bribe and leaning against the tattered desk. "We only just got to where we're steadily in the black, and the seasonal stuff brings in a lot of money. I've got to milk that for as much as I can."

"Yes, because you being overworked and stressed like this is a much better alternative. I'm pretty sure your eyebags have eyebags." You wait for the dramatic gasp, but it doesn't come.

Instead when you look up at him from where you're digging through presents, he's staring at the picture of the two of you. Whatever he's seeing is beyond that, though, invisible to anyone but himself. It's not rare that he gets introspective and quiet; it's actually fairly common when it's just the two of you. You don't know why. You don't want to know why. You just take the moments when they come and wait for him to say whatever he's going to say.

"You're my best friend," is what he eventually says. Your hand stutters where it's slicing paper, mimicking the pang of heartbreak that shoots through your veins. You love being his best friend.

You just wish you were more than that.

"Yeah," You say offhandedly, "No one else wanted the gig, so I guess I'm stuck here." You can feel his eyeroll, but he pats your shoulder as he heads back into the kitchen. When he reappears a while later with fresh cocoa and a bagel, you pretend to be mad that he steals a bite of it until he laughs at your grumbling.

When you leave his smile feels lighter, and you tell yourself you're imagining his eyes lingering on your back as you go.

You’re gonna kill him. You really are. You’re going to absolutely skin him alive, you don’t give a fuck how cute his face is or how hard he makes your heart beat. There’s not a single fucking thing he could say or do that would make up for this.

Maybe if you hadn’t been out here waiting for nearly twenty minutes. Maybe if your phone showed that he had even opened the last six texts you had sent him. Maybe if it wasn’t Seokjin who insisted on leaving at like ten in the morning to being with, even though you had plenty of time to get there because you didn’t even need to run by the bakery because he’d already put Soobin and Yeonjun through what probably counted as actual military training in order to prepare them for today. Frankly, it’s a miracle Seokjin is even leaving them on their own today, considering how hectic it gets. You’re entirely sure that it’s only because Soobin has worked there since the bakery opened and Yeonjun joined not long after so they both know the ropes as well as they possibly can. And because Seokjin was likely up until an ungodly hour preparing and baking an enormous amount of mistledough for today.

In fact, he’s probably still passed out up there, you decide as you climb out of your truck and head into your best friend’s apartment building. You’re cursing under your breath the entire way, paying no mind to the scandalized elderly gentleman that shoots you a Look. You really are gonna kill him, you decide as you shove the key he made you into the lock and jiggle the handle slightly so it’ll actually turn. You’re going to drag him out of his stupidly comfortable bed and probably try to shove him down the garbage disposal or something. His shoulders may present a challenge, but you are up for it.

Your mind is so made up that you don’t even register the bags he’s got ready by the door, or the coolers full of groceries that are packed and ready beside them. You just sidestep it all entirely and head down the hall. You don’t even register the faint sounds, muffled by the door to his room, and by the time it all finally reaches your brain, it’s too late. You’ve already thrown the door open as wide as it will go, which means you get a perfect, unobstructed view, even as Seokjin startles and yelps.

Because of course - of course - he isn’t sleeping or showering or packing. No, instead he’s got his fist wrapped around his cock and is thrusting shallowly into the warmth of his palm. The universe loves to torment you entirely too much, clearly. Why else would it offer you such an unhindered look at the love of your life’s dick?

It’s a nice dick, too. Long and the perfect thickness, a pretty dusky pink head. You can’t lie and say you’ve never imagined what Seokjin’s dick looks like - you basically grew up with him and the others, and young boys talk about their dicks. A lot. Plus, you’ve had a crush on him for several years now.

You just never could have imagined that it’s so absolutely gorgeous that you can feel your mouth water. It’s impossible to tear your eyes away from it, in fact, until Seokjin gets over his initial shock and shoves his blanket over his lap.

“What, uh,” He starts, throat rough. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh...you asked me to pick you up, remember? Because your car doesn’t have four wheel drive like the truck.” You learned a long time ago how to avoid being embarrassed around Seokjin, but even that can’t stop the burn in your cheeks as you force yourself to make eye contact with your best friend. It’s a struggle to focus on anything that isn’t the planes of his naked chest, broad and tanned despite the winter weather, but you manage.

Barely.

“Right, yeah, but...uh, weren’t you supposed to call? And aren’t you early?” The tips of his ears are as red as your face feels. The contrast between the current situation and his obvious shyness is so endearingly distracting, it takes you a full minute to focus back in on what he’s saying. “--at this point, I mean, I know that we apparently aren’t there yet, but really, I don’t mind-”

“Wait,” You interrupt, “I’m still stuck on how I called you four times, both before I left and en route and once I got here, waited another ten minutes since I got here early because I know you like to be early, and yet somehow this is my fault.”

“Well...you should have knocked! Why wouldn’t you knock when coming into someone else’s apartment or bedroom?”

“Why didn’t you hear me coming? The floor in your hallway is a million years old, it squeaks constantly, how did you miss that?”

“Well, I was a little preoccupied.”

“Clearly.”

“You still should have knocked.”

“Why did you give me a key if you wanted me to knock? And when have you ever knocked on my door when you show up randomly? Besides, I figured you were asleep and didn’t want to wake you up while I took all your shit out to the truck.” His face softens a little, and a shy smile teases at his lips.

“Thanks, Pumpkin,” he says quietly. Your stomach flips violently at the look on his face and you roll your eyes at it.

“Yeah, whatever.” You pick up the clothes he already has laid out and throw them at his chest. “Get dressed, you’re buying me breakfast on the way to the cabin.”

He doesn’t protest as you leave him and gather his bags up, balancing them atop the coolers of groceries and snacks he’s no doubt made for everyone. It only takes a little finagling, but you manage to get it all downstairs and into the backseat of your truck. Fat white flakes are falling from the grey sky by the time you’re finished, and Seokjin’s nose and ears are still pink when he eventually gets in as well. You turn the heat up, just in case it’s not residual embarrassment heating his face.

He doesn’t even say anything except a muffled thanks. After a few minutes, you’ve almost resigned yourself to an awkwardly silent car ride.

“So…” Seokjin eventually says in a too-casual tone. “About earlier-”

“No,” You hiss before he can continue. “No we are absolutely not talking about what happened.”

“Oh, come on,” He implores as you turn into the first drive-through you can find. “It was bound to happen eventually, considering-”

“We really don’t need to talk about it,” you insist.

“I’m just saying that I know you aren’t really one for...y’know, sexual activity,” He ignores your open-mouthed gape and continues, “But I have my own needs, and self-satisfaction is the best balance between the two that I’ve found. That said, I’m sorry you had to see it, I know it probably made you uncomfortable. Because. Y’know. Dicks.”

You’re still gawking as he finishes his spiel, and you feel a little like a fish. You surely must look like one, with your mouth hanging open in shock, your eyes as wide as saucers, and the general air of befuddlement that surrounds you. There are so many things you want to say, questions you have, all of them colliding in your brain.

“I like sexual activity just fine!” is what makes it out, just as the speaker beside your window crackles to life. There’s a long, pregnant pause in which you and Seokjin just stare at each other.

“So...what can I get for you today?” The worker says through the speaker. You want to die, just a little, as you rattle off your order and Seokjin’s to him; the universe hates you, obviously, that’s the only real explanation here.

“We are not talking about this,” You tell Seokjin firmly as you pull away from the speaker. Your face is still burning, but you refuse to acknowledge it. “You are paying and then we are heading to the cabin and we are not ever speaking of this again.”

He holds his hands up in defeat. You almost believe that he’s dropped the subject, but unfortunately you know him too well for that. Which is why you shoot him a warning look as you pull up to the window and he starts to say something.

“All I was going to say is that my parents asked about you the other day. They’re mad that you haven’t been by lately.”

“I’ve been busy,” You say as you hand Seokjin’s card to the kid in the window. “I haven’t had time to visit.”

“You visit Jimin’s grandma like twice a week.”

“Yeah, well, Granny Park and I are friends. Not to mention I still have to unseat her as the reigning go champion.” You don’t mention that you’re sneaking her mistledough and cookies so that she won’t blab about the fact that you’re in love with Seokjin. Or that every time you go to his parents’ house, they end up talking about weddings and asking when you’re getting married. You can’t deal with that, not when you factor in your feelings for their son.

“I’m just saying. You’re like a daughter to them. They miss you. I’m going by there after we get back from the cabin, and I think they’d like it if you tagged along.”

All you give him is a noncommittal grunt and several bags of fast food. You love his parents, you really do. You just wish they didn’t come with the constant reminder that Jin only sees you as a sister.

He lets you eat in silence, though, content to munch on your fries and pretend most of the morning never happened. He sings along to every song that plays on the radio, and it isn’t until you’re about thirty minutes away from the city and doing your best to navigate the roads in the worsening snow that you get suspicious.

“When you say you like sexual activity just fine-"

“I thought we dropped this!” He sends you a look that just says ‘really?’ and continues.

“I just want to know what you mean. Because obviously we’re on two different pages.”

“I mean that I like it just fine. I enjoy it, it’s fun, I would like to continue having it in the future. What of that is strange to you?”

“No, I just...I was under the impression that you weren’t interested in that. You never really talk about it, and you’ve never mentioned any...partners, or anything so…”

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to inform you of every person I’ve ever slept with.” You glance over at him, astounded, and are shocked to see that his lips are pursed in a frown and his brows are drawn together. You resist the urge to reach out and smooth the lines on his face. “Wait, are you actually upset about this?”

“It’s just...I’ve told you about every person I’ve slept with.” You wince a little because he’s right. You’ve heard about every single one of his sexual encounters, some of them in great detail, and you do your best not to think about them. “If I had known that you were interested, then-”

“What? You would’ve set me up with one of your friends?”

“Who was the last person?”

“What?”

“Who was the last person you had sex with?”

You look at him again, a quick glance to try to figure out if he’s being serious or not. His face is hard, an emotion you can’t place clear in the set of his jaw and the steel in his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure there’s an actual blizzard starting around us, and you want to know who I fucked recently?”

“Yeah, I do. Fair’s fair, Pumpkin.” Something in his voice raises alarms in your head. You could insist that you don’t want to talk about it; he’d respect it if you were really serious, you know he would. There’s an edge to him right now, though, one you haven’t seen in a very long time, and you don’t like it. You want to smooth it out, sand it back into the gentle lilt you love.

“Fuck, Spice, I don’t know. That guy from the bar that one night?”

“What night? What bar?”

“I don’t fucking remember, okay? It was like...fuck, years ago, I don’t even remember what he looked like, let alone his name or what bar it was. Are you happy now? For fuck’s sake, I didn’t think I had to report to you every time I wanted to get laid. You’re my best friend, not my keeper. I didn’t think it was any of your business.”

He mumbles something under his breath that you don’t catch; between the sound of the heater going full blast and the Christmas carols he’s got blaring through your truck’s sound system, it’s hard to hear anything. Still, when you glance over at him again, something dark sits in his expression, and you’ve got a gut feeling it’s your fault.

Things remain tense even after you arrive at the cabin. Seokjin doesn’t wait for you to help him, just loads all of his stuff into his arms and wobbles his way inside while you’re still slinging your overnight bag over your shoulder. The door slams behind you as you enter, caught by the wind of the growing storm outside, and you send what you hope is an apologetic wave to where Taehyung and Star - his girlfriend of forever and one of your closest friends - sit in the den.

You immediately make your way to the kitchen, swiping a tin of cookies and making hot chocolate, all while ignoring the overly aggressive chopping your best friend is doing behind you. You’re sure Star and Tae aren’t surprised when you flee to the room that you’ve unofficially claimed over the years.

You stay there for most of the day. The door stays open, just in case someone actually wants to come talk to you; you have no doubt that everyone can hear you cursing at the dog show you’re watching, and at one point you’re pretty sure you hear Namjoon’s voice steer someone away, but you can’t be sure. You don’t even want to be sure. All you really want is to know what the fuck you did to piss your best friend off and get him back to normal.

You can’t just ask him, though, because he’ll no doubt get even angrier that you don’t already know, despite the fact that you have no way of knowing unless he actually tells you.

Frustrated, you pick up your phone and flip uselessly through the chat you have with him, trying to find literally any explanation for how he’s acting. The group chat with all the boys plus Star and Cat has been quiet most of the day, only the offhanded comment about someone leaving now or going to be a little late.

Your chat with just Cat and Star is almost as quiet. There’s a featured video of Seokjin blowing up at Jeongguk a bit too harshly considering the younger had just nabbed some kimchi before dinner, but that’s essentially it. You’re tempted to ask Star to get Seokjin to tell her what’s going on, but not only do you not want to drag her into whatever this is, you also know better. He wouldn’t tell her anything. She isn’t his best friend.

As much as you’re looking forward to the rest of the night, there’s a sense of dread deep in your bones when you eventually emerge from your room. You only do so because you’re out of hot chocolate and you know that you’ll be dinner if you’re late to eat.

You wave off Star’s curious look when she sees you; you don’t need her worrying about you, not when she’s got so much else to focus on, if the crutches leaned nearby are any indication. Hobi and Cat haven’t arrived yet, which only adds to the sinking feeling in your gut, but you brush it off. They would call if they had trouble. You know they would. Besides, Cat said they’d probably be leaving late.

Seokjin doesn’t even look at you as you pass him to get to the dining table, and that hurts more than you’d like to admit. The real sucker punch comes once you sit down, however, when you see a mug of hot cocoa with your signature candy cane placed just to the right of your plate, only to realize that Seokjin’s mug of special coffee he loves so much is placed at the other end of the table.

Away from you.

Air catches in your lungs, and it sounds silly that you’re tearing up over your best friend not sitting beside you, but he always sits beside you. Always. No matter what the two of you have been fighting about, he’s always sat beside you because he likes to laugh at the faces you make about the conversations going on, and he feeds you the best bits of meat while you act annoyed about it but secretly love it.

You knew Seokjin was upset, but you hadn’t realized he was this upset.

Jimin sits beside you and introduces you to his neighbor, but you don’t even catch her name, just that he keeps calling her Snow and she looks at him like he’s the meal and that there’s a massive purple bruise along Jimin’s neck that you have a sneaking suspicion is her handiwork. She looks vaguely familiar, but you can’t be bothered to place her, not when Seokjin is laughing about something Star is saying and looks entirely too at home down there.

On your other side, Namjoon and his roommate are talking about a science something or other that they’ve been working on. They’re both so invested in the conversation that neither notice Namjoon dumping the extra spicy sauce over his rice instead of the mild that he prefers. You can’t even bear to listen as he starts complaining to Seokjin that he made the food too spicy and the resulting tirade from the eldest.

If anyone notices your sour mood, they don’t say anything. It’s not surprising, when you think about it; you’ve long been established as the grump of the group, and you don’t expect that to change, even with the girl Jeongguk brought along that seems torn between whether she actually likes him or not.

Yoongi catches your eye at one point and you just cock a brow at him.

“Where’s Jisoo?” You mouth at him across the table. He looks to Peaches, the girlfriend of his that you’ve only ever met once in passing, and looks back at you. You way your eyebrows at him halfheartedly and Yoongi rolls his eyes. It’s disappointing that Jisoo isn’t here. She always provides some sort of entertainment.

If nothing else, she usually provides some semblance of distraction.

By the time dinner ends, you’re fairly positive no one knows about your spat with Seokjin, or the strange tension between the two of you. You’re sure no one noticed how you didn’t eat much of anything; everyone was too wrapped up in their own conversations and relationships to pay much attention to little old you.

You really should know better by now.

Jimin doesn’t move from his spot beside you, even as the others begin gathering dishes and your best friend disappears into the kitchen with the promise of cookies and chocolate-covered treats in an hour or two. Snow disappears, no doubt after a silent conversation between her and Jimin, and you roll your eyes at how he watches her disappear into the room they’ve claimed.

The two of you sit in silence; it’s a game of wits, almost. You know he knows something is up, but you also know that he knows you aren’t one to just offer up your thoughts. But he knows that you know that, and he knows you know he isn’t going to let it go because he can tell something is actually bothering you this time.

“So are we going to talk about why Seokjin has been so pissy all day and how there’s been a notable lack of Pumpkin by his side, or are we going to continue to pretend that everything’s fine like we did through dinner?”

You wish you were better able to resist him. Maybe your time with his grandmother has weakened you to him, and maybe you should work on being less transparent with him, but either way, you slump in your chair and set your empty mug of hot chocolate down with a thump. You still send him a glare that he smiles through and make a mental note to tell Granny Park that there’s a reason for his sudden need for scarves that she should ask him about.

“We had a fight.” You eventually grumble, eyes darting to where Seokjin stands over in the kitchen, dipping marshmallows, pretzels, and other treats into melted chocolate. “I think.”

“You think?”

It doesn’t take very long for you to recount the day’s events to him. You even tell him about The Incident from that morning that you walked in on, because once you start talking you can’t seem to stop until he knows it all.

“And now he’s pissed, I think at me, but I can’t figure out why. I mean, it wasn’t any of his business, but you know how I am with him, so it’s not like I could just not tell him, but I don’t understand why it pissed him off.” You huff a little. The frustration with everything that rolls in your stomach collides with the hurt you feel over Seokjin snubbing you, and it’s so distracting that you almost miss Jimin’s careful whisper of your name.

“Have you ever considered just asking him?” Jimin says softly. “I’m pretty sure having an actual conversation with him would fix this whole thing.”

“But…” You hesitate, twisting a stray thread from your sweater between your fingers. “Jimin, what if he hates me?”

There’s a vulnerability to your voice that you hate, one that only Seokjin, Jimin, and Granny Park have ever seen. It’s rare, mostly because you hate feeling vulnerable, but it makes Jimin’s eyes soften ever so slightly even as he bursts into a fit of giggles so powerful that he almost falls out of his chair.

“This is not helping!” You hiss, shooting a look at where Seokjin is rolling out chocolate chip cookie dough. He doesn’t look up at Jimin’s outburst, but his lips twitch ever so slightly into a frown and the crease between his brows deepens.

You know that look, too well. It’s his ‘I Do Not Care Even Though I Actually Do But I Don’t Want You To Know I Care” look. You saw it frequently when he first went off to college, when he was constantly worrying about all the boys he left behind in that little cul-de-sac. You really hoped it wouldn’t ever come back.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin says eventually, wiping a tear away from one eye. “I really am, I promise, I’m just. Oh, I think I might lose a bet.”

“What? How is that helpful, Jimin? Y’know what, where’s that dumb dog thing Yoongi made you, I need to smush its face until I feel better--”

“What you need,” Jimin says as he places a gentle hand on your shoulder to sit you back down in your chair, “Is to stop abusing my lovingly crafted plushies and actually talk to Seokjin.”

“I can’t tell him how I feel, you know this Chim-”

“Did I say confess?” Jimin asks as he stands, eyes flickering to where his neighbor-slash-girlfriend(?) is in their room. “Just talk to him. I mean really talk to him, okay, about why he’s upset. I think you’ll be surprised.”

Jimin doesn’t give you a chance to protest; he’s gone and disappeared down the hallway before you can blink, and you don’t want to know what’s happening in that room.

Eventually you meander over to where Seokjin is sliding cookies out of the oven, each perfectly placed to allow for the perfect bake. You putter around for a minute or two, opening and closing cabinet doors at random. You aren’t finding anything interesting, certainly not the strength to have this conversation, which is why you’re startled when someone says, “It’s all the way to the left.”

You turn, and Seokjin is absently stirring leftover melted chocolate. When you fail to move, too busy staring at him in confusion, he turns and points to a cabinet beside you. “The cocoa,” He says, “It’s all the way to the left.”

“Thanks,” You mumble as you move toward it. Inside is a box of candy canes and a weathered tin that you recognize from Seokjin’s apartment. Its twin sits in the bakery, right beside the register so that it’s close at hand for when you inevitably come thundering in with a storm cloud above your head. Each holds the special cocoa recipe that Seokjin learned from his grandfather, who learned it from his grandfather.

You chance a glance at your best friend; he knows how much you love that cocoa. The people in this cabin right now are the only people he’ll make it for - save for Hoseok and Cat, who still haven’t arrived. Seokjin’s ears are burning red, and a weaker person - or at least one less accustomed to him - may have cooed at the sight. But you’ve spent too long building up the walls so that he’ll never find out just what you keep tucked away in your heart.

“I’m-”

“Sorry.” He finishes for you. “I know you are. And...I forgive you.” You nod at his words; you couldn’t even hazard a guess as to what had actually upset him, but you’re glad he’s forgiven you for it. Still, it nags at you, because what if it happens again? Unlikely, considering you haven’t been able to get laid in actual years because you’re too smitten with the man standing across from you, but still.

“Are you going to tell me why you were upset, or are you just going to play with chocolate all night?” You eventually ask. He sighs, heavy and long, and turn to lean back on the counter beside you. He’s wearing his ridiculous alpaca apron that you got him for his birthday, and that only makes him more beautiful as he considers what he wants to say.

Your heart lurches painfully in your chest. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted, and it almost feels like he’s close enough to touch, but you just can’t seem to let your hand reach out to do so. You think if you could, you might be able to grab him and hold on forever, but something deep in your gut stills you.

The fear of losing him, of losing everything that you have with him right now - late nights at the bakery, shopping for birthday presents, the quiet moments in a chaotic world where you find peace in each other. As much as it hurts to love him, as hard as it is to speak around the words that strangle in your throat that speak truth to every feeling you’ve ever locked in the recesses of your heart, you can’t risk telling him. Because this pining and loving and eventually watching him grow old with someone he loves?

That’s enough for you.

“I just got jealous, I suppose,” Seokjin eventually says. “I always thought that you weren’t interested in sex, y’know? You mentioned it once in college that you’d tried it, but your little half-frown was there, so I knew you didn’t like it, because you get the same one every time you eat gingerbread because you hate it but you don’t want me to get disappointed that you aren’t eating the houses I make. I just thought it wasn’t something you wanted in life.”

“Um.”

“Which is obviously fine, sex isn’t for everyone, asexual people exist and are valid, as are those that are sex-repulsed, y’know? And I decided a long time ago when I first looked into it all that I didn’t care about sex in a relationship. That’s not the important thing to being partners with someone. But apparently sex is a thing for you, and I just wish I had known that because all this time I could’ve-”

“What, set me up with your friends?”

“No, definitely not. It’s just that we...I could have...it just hurts to know that you’ll have sex with other people but not with me, even though I respect that it’s your decision to make.”

“What.”

“But I just...I know I’m not entitled to an explanation, but I can’t lie, I would really appreciate one if you can give it. I mean...I dunno, I know that I had sex with other people, but we had that whole conversation in college about it, and you seemed alright with it, so I did. And I always told you about them, because communication and openness is important, and I wanted you to know that I was respecting your boundaries with that while also satisfying my own needs. But it really did feel weird, because...y’know, so I stopped. And I guess I assumed that if you weren’t fucking me, you weren’t fucking anyone.”

“What.”

“I just really care about you, Pumpkin, and I know I know don’t really say it a lot because I’m more of a ‘showing it’ kind of guy, but...I just would have appreciated knowing that. Especially since I’ve always been more than willing to love you like that.”

“Spice,” You say slowly, being careful to keep your face blank. “What the actual fuck are you talking about?”

Seokjin blinks at you owlishly. “What do you mean ‘what am I talking about,’ I thought I was pretty clear. I mean...yeah, I’d love it if you would have sex with me, but that’s your decision, and I’m curious as to your reasoning and logic. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter, which is why I forgave you, because as much as it stings, it’s your choice. And I love you, as you know, so-”

“How would I possibly know that?” Your voice catches a little on the words, probably because you’re having a little trouble actually breathing. Everything is fuzzy and the words ‘I’d love it if you would have sex with me’ and ‘I love you’ are playing on a loop in your brain. Your entire world has just shifted on its axis, and yet Seokjin looks completely unbothered.

“Maybe because I’ve put up with you so long?” He teases with a fond smile. “I mean, I know we aren’t the type to say the words very often, but c’mon Pumpkin. We’ve been dating since you were twelve, not many would last that long without even a kiss.”

“We haven’t been together since I was twelve, though.” He raises a brow at your confused tone.

“Okay, thirteen, then.” He says. The confusion on your face must be apparent, because it begins to bleed into his, the beautiful features morphing to mirror your own.

“Seokjin, I don’t know what you’re talking about. We aren’t dating.”

His expression only gets more confused.

“Uh, yes we are?”

“Uh, no we aren’t? When the fuck did that happen?”

“When you were twelve, as I said. I asked you to be my girlfriend.”

“I feel like I would have remembered that happening.”

“Then you should go to a doctor, because it definitely did. It was the best day of my life. We were sitting on the playground, it was recess, you were upset.”

“I remember none of that.”

“You cannot possibly have forgotten this!” Seokjin exclaims. “I cheered you up and offered you my cookie, which you ate in like two bites even though I had made it with salt instead of sugar and it had to be disgusting, because some girl had knocked your cupcake into the dirt-”

“Park Sooyoung, that bitch, I remember that-”

“And then,” Seokjin continues, ignoring your outburst, “I was so deeply honored that you ate that disgusting thing that I offered you the equal honor of being my girlfriend. And you nodded and I kissed your cheek and then you punched me in the arm - which hurt, I might add, for days - and then I watched you play Pokemon Sapphire on your Gameboy Advance.”

The memory rushes in, though not exactly how he remembers it. Park Sooyoung had knocked your cupcake out of your hands and into the dirt, and you had been so mad about it that you’d started to cry. Seokjin found you, curled under a tree away from everyone else, and when he eventually learned what upset you, he’d told Sooyoung off like no one had ever seen. And then he’d handed you the best cookie you’ve ever eaten.

You think maybe that was when you first started falling for Seokjin. With the salty cookie that masked the taste of your own tears, and the angry tirade he had gone on despite the two of you not having known each other for very long, with the wide smile and squeaky laugh and ears so red and cute that you couldn’t focus on whatever he was saying and just nodded along to it.

“Well...why didn’t you say anything since then?” A thought crosses your mind, and it so horror-filled that you have to ask. “Do the guys know?”

“If they do, it’s not because I told them,” Seokjin answers easily. “When you introduced yourself as my friend, I figured you were just a very private person and didn’t want to rub it in their faces or something.”

“Is that why you always drag me along when you, Hobi, Tae, Cat, and Star go out for karaoke?”

“Obviously,” He scoffs. “What could be better than a triple date with your two best friends?”

“Literally anything! Hobi and Cat sing each other the most raunchy things I’ve ever heard, and Tae does all those weepy ballads or indie songs nobody recognizes, and Star’s got those dopey love eyes all night, it’s revolting.”

“You mean like those faces you make at me when you think I won’t notice?”

“I-” You huff, at a loss. “Well what about the other day, with that girl at Mistledough you were flirting with, who was flirting back and-” Realization hits you. “And she’s Jimin’s neighbor girlfriend lady!”

“Pumpkin. Are you serious right now?” He gives you a dry look, but there’s amusement written all over it. “You’ve heard my sales pitch a hundred times. You’ve given my sales pitch a hundred times, albeit with a little more of a monotone and general ‘I’ll kill you’ vibe to it. It was just so she’d buy all the treats I could possibly sell her.”

You make a small ‘hmph’ noise that you aren’t exactly proud of, but makes Seokjin laugh. He pulls you into a warm hug, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you there. It’s a little awkward, because your arms are still crossed over your chest, but he doesn’t seem to mind and despite all the muttered complaints you give him, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

“So…” Jin says in a too-casual tone after a few minutes. You muffle a groan into his chest, already preparing for the worst. “What kind of sex are you into?”

“Oh my god,” You mumble.

“Wait, you’re right, I’m getting ahead of myself.” He clears his throat and stands to his full height. When he looks at you again, his eyes are full of something you can’t place exactly, but it makes your heart skip nonetheless when he says your full name. “Will you do me the honor of officially becoming my girlfriend? Again?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes and nod. The grin takes over his face is blinding, worth all the trouble from the day, as is the soft kiss he presses to your cheek. You can’t help but huff when he pulls away from it, even, and he raises an amused brow at it.

“Does this mean I can finally kiss you the way I’ve been dreaming of forever?”

You do roll your eyes this time, but you let your fingers dance over his jaw and pull him into a gentle kiss. His lips are softer than they look, which you truly didn’t think was possible, and the way they mold and move with yours is warm and tender. You don’t even know how long you spend kissing Seokjin. Time isn’t real, not now, not with him pulling you closer and pressing warm against you like every single daydream you’ve let yourself have.

Years of repressed urges and desire come out before you can stop them, though. Your hands move down to rest on Seokjin’s impossibly tiny waist, slipping behind his apron to tease at the waistband of his slacks. Why he insists everyone wear nice clothes to dinner, you couldn’t possibly say, but they make his ass look phenomenal so you never complain.

The kisses become more heated, his tongue dipping out to taste your lips for a moment. Hands find their way to your ass and palm it greedily, and he tugs you flush against him. A hard length is pressing into you, and you don’t have to guess to know it's not the rolling pin.

Images - memories - flash through your mind of that morning. Your mouth waters and you pull back from Seokjin. Panting, lips swollen from kisses, and half-lidded eyes, he's never looked better.

"Can I suck your dick?"

He groans low in his throat and his eyes fall closed. "Fuck, Pumpkin, right here? Anyone could walk by." You drop to your knees as your hands undo the clasp on the pants.

"Doubtful, they're probably having that post-dinner nap, or playing some game." Anxiety pools in your gut; you know quite a bit about what Seokjin likes in bed, but you've never been sure if exhibitionism is on that list. "Does it make you uncomfortable? I don't have to. I've just been thinking about it all day."

Seokjin barks out a quick laugh and shakes his head. "No," He says, "I definitely would love for you to suck my dick in this kitchen if you want to."

"Good." You flip his apron to the side and tug his cock out of its confines. You don't bother dropping his pants all the way; there's no time, you're too impatient. "Let me know if anyone shows up."

Whatever he's about to say gets cut off by a sharp intake of breath as you warp your lips around the head of him. One of his hands moves to grip the counter behind him and the other rests lightly on your crown; he doesn't pull or tug, just keeps his hand as a gentle pressure as you sink him deeper into your mouth.

As much as you've never been one for sucking dick, you're in heaven. There's no other explanation for why it feels this good to have him sitting heavy against your tongue as he hits the back of your throat. There are still two inches left so you wrap your hand around it and hollow your cheeks as you pull back.

A strangled moan escapes him, and his fingers tighten ever so slightly in your hair. Heat floods to your core and you kick yourself internally because you could have been doing this for years. Your tongue darts out to slide teasingly along the underside of his cock and he reflexively thrusts into your mouth.

You cough a little and pull back, wiping spit from your lips as you catch your breath, and Seokjin is already spewing apologies.

“I’m fine,�� You say as you sit back against the cabinet, tugging him to stand in front of you. His back is to most of the kitchen and your head rests against the hard wood behind you while you eye the hard wood in front of you. “I can take a little bit of roughness, Spice, don’t worry.”

He looks hesitant so you ghost your fingers along his length to tease him. His jaw clenches at the same time his eyes close and you resist the urge to smile. Tension bleeds out of his shoulders and when he opens his eyes again, he quirks a brow in a silent question and you nod.

In seconds, he’s in your throat once more, thrusting himself in and out at a slow pace that makes you clench with the desire to feel it elsewhere. You hollow your cheeks and suck properly as he fucks your throat, and he muffles another moan.

“Fuck, Pumpkin, please don’t stop,” Seokjin whines quietly. You smile, just a little, and take him back into your throat for a few seconds before pulling back and repeating the process. Each time he hits the back of your throat, he lets out a muffled groan that only makes you wetter. His cock is thick and your jaw aches and you’re struggling to breathe just a little bit, but the fucked out expression on his face is more than worth it.

Something clatters in the hallway and you freeze, Seokjin’s cock sheathed to the hilt in your throat. His ears turn red and he starts to pull back, but you stop him with a hand on his thigh. He looks down at you, surprised, and you chance a wink that makes him chuckle.

Footsteps make their way past, giggles following close behind, and you hear the door leading to the hot tub open and close. After a few seconds of silence, Seokjin relaxes, pulling out of your throat. You take a few deep breaths and glance over to the door, curious.

“Jimin and Snow,” He tells you, one hand absently stroking along your cheek. “We probably shouldn’t use the hot tub tonight.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Why would I want to anyway? Have you heard Namjoon’s lecture on what could potentially grow in a hot tub if it isn’t sanitized regularly? It’s not a fun lecture.” Seokjin laughs, squeaky and adorable, and helps you to your feet. He doesn’t hesitate to pepper kisses along your cheeks, and you wrinkle your nose even as tilt your head so he can get the places he missed.

“Now when you said that you can handle a little roughness…” Seokjin says, voice a soft murmur in your ear. You make a small hum of affirmation, encouraging him to continue. “Does that mean I can spank you for not finishing blowing me, or is that something you’d rather not do?”

“Fuck, Seokjin,” You hiss, rubbing your thighs together. “Now you have to do it.”

He’s got you turned around in an instant, your fancy dress pants on the ground a few seconds later. His hands mold to your ass, cupping the flesh briefly through your underwear before letting his hands fall away.

It’s methodical and slow and torturous, how he peels away that last layer keeping him from your wetness. You know that the fabric is soaked through, it has been since you first got his dick in your mouth, and Seokjin groans at the sight.

“Even better than I imagined,” He mutters. Your cheeks heat in a rare blush, and you drop your head down between where your forearms are braced against the countertop. His hand smacks against your ass, lightly, and you choke back a laugh. Is that really what he thinks a spank is?

Another slap hits you, no real force behind it, and you scoff under your breath.

“What?” Seokjin asks. When you look back at him, he’s expectant, like he knows what you’re about to say.

“Is that what you call a slap?” You ask. He rolls his eyes and pulls his hand back for another. It already looks unsatisfying, and you can’t help but push him a little further. “I always wondered why your dough doesn’t rise high enough. Guess I know now.”

His eyes darken and a chill comes over you.

“Oh, is that how this is gonna be?” He asks. He gestures for you to face forward again and you do, curious as to the dark look in his eyes.

Something hard and cold smacks into your ass, and you yelp in surprise. There’s a little more force behind it, enough to sting pleasantly but not enough to hurt.

“Is that better, Pumpkin?” He asks. There’s a mocking tone to his voice, but when you look back, you can see the slant of his lips and tension in his jaw that shows he’s concerned. The rolling pin from earlier rests in his hands, and it flares something in your gut.

“Much,” You tell him as you turn back around. He spanks you with it again, and again, and again, and it isn’t until you feel something wet drip down the back of your leg that you remember the chocolate he was fucking around with earlier.

“If you get that on my nice clothes, I will destroy you,” You warn him. He laughs a little and there’s a thump as the rolling pin hits the countertop.

“Is that code for get me naked?” He asks, a laugh in his voice.

“No, that’s code for lick it up and then fuck my brains out.”

The laugh in his throat quickly becomes a growl and he sets to work doing just that. His tongue runs over your skin, gently lapping at the chocolate there, and several times he gets distracted leaving purple marks in his wake. He even slides tongue along your slit, long and thorough and quick, and you almost come just from the obscene moan he lets out.

"Fuck, please, I need you," You gasp out. Seokjin slides a hand under your shirt, massaging the muscles in your back as he does, and stands to his full height.

"Let me know if it hurts," He says softly. His voice is a whisper against your ear and it's never sounded quite so wrecked or beautiful. "I'll stop, okay?"

"If you don't get inside me in the next five seconds, I will go ask Jimin and Snow if I can join them in their kinky hot tub," you growl.

He curses quietly and thrusts his length inside you. Neither of you are quite prepared for what it feels like, and the moment he gets buried to the hilt, he stills.

"Shit, Pumpkin, I'm not gonna last long," He mutters. You can't even manage words. The stretch is absolutely blissful, just on the right side of painful when paired with the sting of your still-tender ass. He's the perfect height for this, too; perfectly lined up without either of you having to try very hard.

He pulls almost entirely out, leaving just the dusty pink head you remember inside. There's not even a chance to whine at the loss, because before you know it, he's slamming back in.

Seokjin's pace is erratic and harried; there's no smooth strokes here. You're both in too much of a rush, too drunk on the pleasure to want anything but release.

Hands move along your skin, one lifting your shirt so he can pepper kisses along your spine while the other reaches down to gently tweak your clit.

It takes three swipes of his finger to have your knees shaking with the power of your orgasm. You clench around him and he stills. You can't think, your brain is absolutely fried at this point; all you know is the feeling of him inside you and the disappointing emptiness when he pulls out.

Warmth hits your back and Seokjin's moans echo in your ears. You're almost afraid to turn around, afraid this is some hyper-realistic dream.

"Shit, hold on, let me clean this up," he says, panting. You can hear him moving through the kitchen and when he comes back, something cold and wet slides along your back.

You wait patiently as he cleans you up. He wipes away every instance of cum and chocolate from your skin - though he looks a little disappointed to be doing so, which you file away for later.

"God, that's so much fucking cum," You say, wrinkling your nose at the mass of wet wipes he tosses in the trash while you fasten your pants once more.

It's just in time, too, as Jimin and Snow come in from the hot tub, smiling and giggly with each other.

"Ah," Jimin says, looking between you and Seokjin. "I did lose a bet. Damn, she's gonna be so pleased with herself."

You glare at him, but there's no real heat behind it. The two of them disappear to get dressed in actual clothes, and you and Seokjin set to work plating the cookies and treats he'd made.

You can't stop the fond look at the rolling pin every few minutes.

Later, after you discover Cat and Hobi have arrived safely and you make sure they actually eat the plates set aside for them, you're on the hunt for Seokjin. He's disappeared somewhere and it's almost time for the countdown.

You finally find him - where else - in the kitchen, making a horrified face at Namjoon.

"What? It was good," Namjoon says with a frown. Seokjin just waves him off and Namjoon shrugs, grabbing a couple glasses of champagne and heading back to Slick.

You sidle up to him as close as you can get and he wraps an arm around your waist like it's second nature. It's surreal, that the man you love is pressing a kiss to your temple and handing you a mug of cocoa.

"I'm glad we talked," He says eventually. You hum your agreement; you aren't looking at him, just staring down into your cocoa as you absently stir it with a candy cane, but you do lean into him ever so slightly. "Remind me to bake Jimin a cake."

"Why? What's he done to deserve a cake?"

"He helped me out earlier, while I was cooking dinner. Helped me figure out how to say what I needed to, that sort of thing."

Your face shoots up as your heart clenches in your chest. "Jimin," You echo. "Jimin is why you decided to talk about your feelings." Seokjin just nods, eyes wide and not understanding why you have murder in your eyes.

"I'm gonna kill him so hard-" You say, already setting your mug down and turning to go find that short gremlin and skin him alive. You don't get two steps before a hand comes to rest on your shoulder, heavy but gentle.

Seokjin pulls you closer to him, a smile playing on his lips as he does. "Why would you want to kill Jimin for that, Pumpkin?"

"Because!" You exclaim. "Jimin's the only one that knows that I-"

The words tangle in your throat, cloying together into a ball you can't seem to unwind. You're too used to choking it down. You don't know how to say it.

"That you love me?" Seokjin finishes. You can't bear to look at him, huffing slightly as you turn to stare out the kitchen window at the snow-covered trees beyond.

Seokjin's hand glides down your arm to wrap around your own, tangling his fingers with yours. With a grace you tend to forget he has, he brings them both upwards until he can press a soft kiss in the center of your palm.

"Jimin isn't the only one that knows that, Pumpkin," He says quietly. You can feel your ears burning, a pleasant contrast from how it's usually him embarrassed and red.

"Whatever," you grumble, giving up on your mission to brutally murder one of your best friends. Seokjin laughs, loud and squeaky and wonderful, and pulls you into another hug.

"I love you too," He whispers. "Now, let's go join the others. I believe you owe me several years of kisses."

"You wish," You mutter half-heartedly. He hands you your cocoa and pats your still-sore ass with a wink.

"That's a great move."

"Really?"

"Yes." There's a pause as she waits for you to remove your fingers from the piece. "If you want to lose."

You offer her a weak glare that she ignores as she studies the board.

"I'm glad that you and Seokjinnie finally got things figured out. It was very cute to watch, but it was getting a little ridiculous, you know."

She moves a piece, and you squint to try to help you figure out her strategy.

"Right, it had nothing to do with your bet with Jimin," You say sarcastically as you move another piece. You eye her, one finger still remaining on it, to try to figure out if it's what she expected.

"Of course not," She says as you remove your hand. "That was merely a bonus." She immediately lays a piece, gaining even more of an advantage than she already had.

"Well then," You start as you lay another piece, "I'm sure you know all about Jimin and his neighbor, and Star and Tae I don't need to tell you anything about Yoongi or Cat or Jeongguk, either, probably."

Her fingers hesitate over the piece she's picking up, and her eyes narrow at you.

"Ah, don't be so cruel. You're supposed to respect your elders, you know."

"Alright, Granny Park," You say with a rare grin as you glance to where Seokjin is baking a ‘sorry we fucked in your kitchen’ cake and decoration some sugar-free cookies for her. "What exactly do you want to know?

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1938485748377575876 · 4 years

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50 QUESTIONS YOU’VE NEVER BEEN ASKED

thank you for tagging me johanna @sydneyclarke 💖

what is the color of your hairbrush? aquamarine..if that's what it's called

a food you never eat? meat

are you typically too warm or too cold? too cold

what were you doing 45 minutes ago? watching the news with my parents

what is your favorite candy bar? kitkat because i miss it rn

have you ever been to a professional sports event? yes!! i've been to a cricket match because i'm desi

what is the last thing you said out loud? i said good night to my mom

what is your favorite ice cream? i will have ANYTHING with chocolate

what was the last thing you had to drink? water lol

do you like your wallet? it's pretty cute but i'm too lazy so i put everything in the front part of my bag ksjsnd

what was the last thing you ate? pomegranate

did you buy any new clothes last weekend? nope

the last sporting event you watched? idk some swimming thing cause i was bored

what is your favorite flavor of popcorn? i don't have a fav just don't put anything sweet in it

who is the last person you sent a text message to? my friend we were talking about tlh characters having british accents djdjdh

ever go camping? yes! i wanna go again as soon as all of this *gestures vaguely* ends 🥺

do you take vitamins? nah

do you go to church every sunday? i'm not christian

do you have a tan? i have the opposite of a tan rn

do you prefer chinese food or pizza? chinese is great but pizza is Pizza bro

do you drink your soda with a straw? no straws aren't even required

what color socks do you usually wear? i have a lot of white ones with different patterns

do you ever drive above the speed limit? i can't drive i'm gay

what terrifies you? dentists, bees, marriage, the possibility that humans are alone in the universe,

look to your left, what do you see? i can't i've turned the lights off it's about midnight

what chore do you hate? manually washing dishes is the worst

what do you think of when you hear an australian accent? i think of my australian friend i made on wattpad

what’s your favorite soda? pepsi i guess?

do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thru? in bc i don't drive

who’s the last person you talked to? mom

favorite cut of beef? uh i'm vegetarian

last song you listened to? im listening to casual affair by panic! at the disco rn cause i'm vibin

last book you read? the hand on the wall by maureen johnson (cr the gilded wolves!)

favorite day of the week? saturdays

can you say the alphabet backwards? maybe if i try really hard

how do you like your coffee? i like coffee in all forms

favorite pair of shoes? i can't decide bc they're all shitty I NEED NEW SHOES

at what time do you normally go to bed? before quarantine 1am, now it's like 5am

at what time do you normally get up? on uni days 6:30am, on holidays not earlier than 11am

what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? sunsets

how many blankets are on your bed? one

describe your kitchen plates. there are so. many. and they're a like floral bc my mom gets them

do you have a favorite alcoholic beverage? alcohol tastes like shit

do you play cards? sometimes

what color is your car? who

can you change a tire? hahahaha no

what is your favorite province? i don't understand this question

favorite job you’ve ever had? i have never had a job........... it's just not that common for teenagers to have jobs here idk

how did you get your biggest scar? my ankle got stuck in this old metal chair when i was like 11 i do not know how

what did you do today that made someone else happy? i fed a stray dog does that count

tagging @dianabarryy @kazz @thomaslightwoodx @hestiea

#for the record i did this once and it got deleted #i hate it here #johanna #tag game #it /was/ fun though

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blue-hi · 4 years

Text

i’ve been awake since 4:30 am and it’s 9:00 now so i need to get this out because it’s been months and i havent been able to spit the whole thing out and i need to SAY something so i think i’ll jst yell into the void so

thanks

ive had insomnia since at least mid october. cant really remember now when it started. i’d keep waking up in th emiddle of the night, always around 2 or 3 am and it would take ages to get back to sleep.

ive never been one for all nighters and i like getting a full night’s sleep and all of a sudden i wasn;t getting it and for no reason too. this scared me. it still scares me. i reached out to my mom for idk emotional support??? i didn’t want to be alone

“this happens to other people too” started out as a way to help but the way she said it sounded like she was dismissing me and what was happening. like it would all clear up soon so i had no reason to bother her

then the week before halloween almost all my classes assigned projects or had a test and they were all assigned at the same time at the end of the week and were all due at the same time on halloween. the saturday before halloween and after i got all the assignments i slept particularly awfully and i just broke down in th emiddle of the library. like all day and i couldn’t stop. that scared me even more bc if it happened once it can happen again

im terrified. that’s the core of the issue

that day my mom and aunt got me a plane ticket to fly home for the next weekend to see if being home would fix things. we even had a doctor’s appointment it didn’t fix anything. the doctor told me things i already knew but also decided i had generalized anxiety disorder and that was why i couldn;t sleep even though i wasn;t scared until after it started and i slept terribly that night again. i was hysterical. i still had no idea why i couldn’t sleep i shouldn’t have paced that loud in the hallway but yeah i wanted attention i felt alone. maybe it was selfish but i just wanted a hug and i knew then i was in for the long haul and i didn’t want to be afraid AND be alone but my mom just yelled at me (which she had the right to i was being not-great) and i felt i was burdening her. that’s when i realized she either can’t or won’t be there with me or both

i went to the counselor at my school and i just vented. not all of this but some of it and i had other problems at the time like my major and some classes but those had all worked themselves out by the end of november i also went to the health center and got a little bottle of this drug called hydroxyzine and that started helping a little bit. i was taking tylenol pm every night before that and apparently this was something stronger

then thanksgiving rolled around and i was still having some issues. one thing i remember most vividly is twin and i were going to drive to our dad’s house for the day. normally i drive but i handed the keys to twin because i hadn’t slept well and didn’t feel like driving. my mom noticed and asked why i didn’t want to drive and i SHOULD have lied and said that i wanted twin to practice but i told he truth and said i felt too tired to drive and she rolled her eyes at me later in the break one morning she asked me how i slept again and i said poorly and i was still half asleep but i swear she scoffed

then i knew i REALLY couldn;t expect her to help me. not even with the sleeping but just with support.

i went back to the school counselor (different person though) and! my mom still doesn’t know about that visit. she doesn;t know that counselor said that insomnia sometimes predates depression symptoms. should i tell her that? that’s also terrifying. i managed to get out of high school without really any mental illness issues so i;m a lucky one but that’s what i’m scared about going forward

i feel like it’s not as serious as it feels and that no i don’t have anxiety and no i don’t have depression (yet) and that i should just suck it up until i do but also i can have emotions because i;m a fucking person and ‘m allowed to tell people about them without feeling like a burden or a fake bc god forbid i have a single negative emotion in front of someone. i’ve always been a “good girl low maintenance child” and FUCK that

weirdly i started to sleep well during finals week and these past 2 weeks on break too but i think that’s because the hydroxyzine started to kick in. except oops now my supply is low and i have about a week or two left until i completely run out and the little bottle says NO REFILLS LEFT so i have to figure out how to get more for the semester last night i tried to go to bed without taking one to see if i’ve gotten any better. news flash nothing’s changed without it and now everything that had gone away in the last 3 weeks all the anxiety and hopelessness and tiredness and terror all came back last night and right now i feel like i;m back in the library again bc i can’t stop crying

what if i can’t get more before the semester starts?? if i’m like this during break what’ll happen when i have to stress again?

i came downstairs at 8 to do organic chemistry on khan academy because if i can’t sleep then i might as well do something productive. mom came down to get ready for work and she saw me and asked me if i was upset about not sleeping again

i was an idiot and said yeah - that’s what i hate too. i want to be honest about mental health with people and how i’m doing but to stop this i need to lie to her. now i’ll always be fine! and she never has to know if i;m in a bad way just as she likes it and i feel a w f u l about it. it makes be feel petty and petulant but i’m non confrontational. i want to tell her everything i;ve written here and just be so honest she has to listen to me instead of dismissing me every time but every time she asks i clam up and i failed again this morning she accused me of wanting to feel scared because “i hadn’t tried everything yet”. she and family members for christmas sent me some things that are supposed to help like a light developed by insomniacs or a winter light and i really do appreciate all of it, but they all came when the medicine was working so i didn’t NEED it. last night was different because i am a scientist and am my own guinea pig and i wanted to see what would happen if i didn’t take the drugs. i’ll use all of that tonight in Phase 2 of the Worst Experiment Ever but she wouldn’t LISTEN to me when i said that either.

now i’ll just say nothing. why should she know it’s only caused both of us stress. i wish she would take this (insomnia! depression!! mental health woo!) as seriously as she took my acne when i was 12. still now if i have a zit she feels entitled to touch my face. do you wanna know how you can help??? stay away from me and don’t wonder why i kind of want to tell her. she’s coming back home in a couple of hours bc it’s new year’s eve and i might still be in a state who knows but i’ll choke again and she’ll yell at me again and nothing will have changed

people have asked me how my semester went and “it’s been a shitty one,” i wanna say but normally i just say that i’m glad it’s over only for my parents to swoop in and say “it can’t have been all that bad i mean you did well with your grades in the end” like !! i pulled that B in physics out of my ass! just because i did ok academically because i’m lucky and good at school doesn’t mean my health was great! my dad can’t help me either because i’ll say that my mental health recently isn’t as good as it could be and he just goes “aww sweetie.” and that’s it. nothing else. thanks dad. i know you don’t know what to do with that information and i don’t fault you for that because emotions have never taken precedence in either household (except for all the curse words i learned from my mom when she’s inconvenienced)

all of this and i still don’t know why i can’t sleep normally

thanks for reading this fkn novel all of this has been on my chest for a LONG time and i haven’t had the chance to say any of it and if i get the chance i’m afraid i’ll forget something (i probably did here, too). i truly mean thank you. this has been cathartic to write, even though i still need to go to a counselor or something. i hope your new year (and decade!) is bright

#i don't know what else to say or do

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lolainslackss · 5 years

Note

Numbers 2 or 8 feat high school Andriel au bc I cant get enough of my two sons 😫

02. i sit at the rental booth at our local ice rink and watch you teach children how to skate

Neil lines up the three pairs of skates so that the blades clack metallically against the countertop. The tallest kid hands him a note to cover the rental charges and then passes the skates to his friends as Neil counts out his change with shivering fingers.

Abby and Wymack have given him this tiny electric heater that he keeps under the counter but even if he keeps it on for his entire shift, he never manages to thaw. That said, the rental booth isn’t the worst place he’s ever worked. Despite the cold (and the cheery looping of the same holiday songs), it’s easygoing. He enjoys the sounds - the echoey voices and the soft scratching of skates against the rink - and he enjoys the steaming mugs of tea Abby brings him every hour. He likes that Wymack isn’t too strict, which means he can spend his shifts catching up on homework. He also likes the decades-old decorations they excavate from some dark basement room every year; he can remember the crooked, artificial tree and the dimly-glowing rainbow of lights strung around it from when he came ice skating as a kid. Of all the jobs he could have taken at the rink, the rental booth is fine. He would have rather taken on an assistant instructor role, but even though he’s nimble on his feet when he’s on dry land, he’s an accident-prone nightmare on the ice. So that was that ruled out.

“Enjoy,” he murmurs half-heartedly as he hands the kid a stack of loose change. The boy looks at the two girls and they all grin, clearly amused by some private joke or other.

“We always do,” one of the girls says. They’ve already changed into their skates and now their snow boots are wet and drippy on Neil’s counter.

“Mr. Minyard is the best,” the other girl adds.

“So funny,” the boy agrees.

Minyard, Neil thinks, as they totter towards the rink. Surely not that Minyard.

He shrugs and puts their boots away, but he’s still preoccupied by that name. He sits next to a Minyard in school: Andrew. They have calculus together but they’ve never said a word to each other. Andrew sits in stony silence throughout their class, not doing much at all, while Neil furiously scribbles away. He doesn’t seem to do badly, though. In fact, his scores are nearly as good as Neil’s own (Neil takes a peek every now and then, when he’s sure Andrew isn’t looking). He can’t imagine Andrew teaching kids how to skate. From what Neil knows firsthand, and from what he’s heard from other kids at school, Andrew isn’t very friendly or patient. In fact, some of the kids at school are deathly afraid of him.

Neil frowns and tries to focus on his homework, but he’s too distracted. He checks to see if there are any more customers around and hops over the booth counter when he sees there aren’t. The sounds of skates swishing against the ice gets louder as he approaches the rink. He’s not sure what’s really driving his curiosity, but he can’t shake away the need to know. He peers through the plexiglass and sure enough, there he is: Andrew Minyard. Five feet flat and perfectly balanced on the ice. There are around twelve kids congregating around him, laughing hysterically. Andrew, straight-faced, folds his arms across his chest and says something. They all laugh again. Neil tilts his head to the side and watches. Andrew sends away the more confident skaters to practice travelling backwards around the perimeter of the rink and stays in the centre to teach the more wobbly skaters to do figures-of-eight on the ice. He looks calm as he instructs them, gentle in his guidance. It’s a strange image to apply to the disinterested and cold-looking Andrew Minyard he knows from class.

“Wesninski,” Wymack barks, yanking him back to the real world. “You’ve got customers. I don’t pay you to stand around.”

Andrew looks over when he hears Wymack yelling and his and Neil’s eyes meet briefly. Aside from a glimmer of recognition, Andrew doesn’t give anything else away. Neil makes a mental note to ask him about it on Monday, and then jogs back to the rental booth - and the disgruntled customers waiting for him - with a forced and cheery smile plastered on his face.

…

Monday morning. Calculus. Andrew Minyard comes in just before the bell rings and plonks down into his seat without sparing Neil a glance. Their teacher immediately starts droning on, so Neil doesn’t get a chance to talk to Andrew until they’re given their exercises.

“So, how long have you worked at the rink?” Neil asks, tapping his pencil against his notepad.

“Couple of weeks,” Andrew says with a shrug, doodling a fat cat in the margins of his own notebook.

“I work there too,” Neil tells him uselessly.

“I noticed,” Andrew says with a small snort. “You were spying on me.”

“I wasn’t- I just-” Neil returns his mocking look with a glare. Andrew looks so different from when he was helping the kids at the rink. He looks harder at the edges. “I was just curious to see who the new instructor was.”

“Well, now you’ve found out. Hope you’re thrilled.”

“You don’t seem like the type.”

Andrew looks amused. “That’s presumptuous.”

“Yeah, well,” Neil mumbles, shrugging. “Maybe you should put as much effort into your calculus as you do at the rink.”

“You’re very bold this morning.”

“You’re a confusing person,” Neil admits.

“Don’t hurt yourself trying to figure it out,” Andrew says. “I can make it simple for you.”

Neil looks at him questioningly.

“At the rink, I get free blue raspberry slushies. You know, because I work there,” Andrew says, conspiratorially, as if he’s telling Neil a secret. “In calculus, though? Not so much.”

Neil blinks, nonplussed. “You’re messing with me.”

“Who knew you were so easy to mess with.”

“So, what’s the real reason?”

“I like it,” Andrew says plainly. “Is that the answer you were hoping for?”

Neil just shrugs. He feels annoyed. Like the conversation is a game that he’s somehow lost. He flips the page vigorously and somehow ends up gouging a papercut into the side of his finger. A blob of red blood beads, quivers and then spills.

He instinctively blots the cut with a sheet of paper from his notebook before noticing that Andrew is pulling a pack of wet wipes and a beat-up box of band-aids out of his bag.

“It’s just a papercut,” Neil protests.

“Just a papercut,” Andrew parrots darkly. “Even tiny cuts can get infected.”

“Fine,” Neil concedes, placing his hand on the desk in between them.

He watches as Andrew carefully dabs the cut before firmly wrapping the band-aid around it. His touch causes Neil’s heart to trip up in his chest. He brings his free hand to his forehead; he hopes he’s not coming down with something.

After Andrew’s done, he drops Neil’s hand as if it’s a pebble of coal burning hot from a fire. Neil mutters a thank you and the rest of the class passes by without incident or, indeed, another word.

…

Saturday. Very early afternoon. Stark white daylight washes over the town, but it’s ephemeral. Soon, the sky will purple and brood. It’s the busiest time at the ice rink and Neil’s been dealing with a constant queue of customers all day.

Eventually, he’s left alone long enough to sit down and take a look at his English essay. He writes exactly one sentence before the commotion begins. A cluster of kids waddle toward him, teetering on their skates. They look worried.

“Mr. Minyard fell on the ice,” one of them announces.

“His knee just like, started spurting blood everywhere!”

“Don’t exaggerate, Tommy!”

“What? It did!”

Neil swears under his breath and bends down to retrieve the first aid kit. Wymack had made him take a first aid course after he’d been offered the job. He’d said he liked everyone at the rink to know how to take care of someone who took a spill on the ice. Luckily, he has never had to use it. Until now.

Neil follows the kids to the edge of the rink. Andrew is trying to undo his laces, but keeps needing to stop in order to press down on his bleeding knee. His pale fingers are smudged red. When Neil looks across the rink, he sees the splatter of crimson where he must have fallen.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have worn your trendy, ripped jeans to work today,” Neil deadpans, crouching down to take a look at Andrew’s cut.

“Shut up,” Andrew says, shooting him an unimpressed look.

“I will,” Neil says, “but only if you let me take a look at that.”

He nods at Andrew’s hands, which are clasped tightly over his knee. Andrew’s expression doesn’t change, but something in his body language shifts as he slowly undoes his hands and lets them fall to his sides.

“Just there,” he says, pointing to his knee. He leans back against the plexiglass wall and closes his eyes.

Neil nods, not really understanding. He makes sure to clean and dress the wound without touching Andrew anywhere but his knee. It’s a relatively shallow cut so it’s easy enough to patch up, even when there are a bunch of kids watching him work, holding their breath.

When he’s done, Andrew’s eyes flutter open. Some colour has returned to his cheeks. Neil smiles at him encouragingly.

“Go get Andrew a blue raspberry slushie,” Neil instructs one of the kids.

“I’m not in shock,” Andrew grumbles, annoyed.

“Didn’t say you were,” Neil replies. “This is just, I don’t know, my treat.”

“What a treat,” Andrew says sarcastically, getting to his feet. “A freebie from the cafeteria.”

“How’d you fall?” Neil asks, just as Andrew is about to get back on the rink and skate away from him.

“Wasn’t paying attention,” Andrew says, looking annoyed at himself.

“Oh well,” Neil says. “Could have been worse, right?”

Andrew just holds his gaze for a second or two and then glides away.

…

Neil slams his locker and startles when he sees Andrew standing right next to him, sucking the remnants of a slushie, his lips tinted blue.

“What?” Neil asks.

“Nothing,” Andrew replies, tossing the plastic cup in the trash.

“Okay,” Neil replies, confused. “You’re finished too?”

Andrew just nods, sitting down on the bench across from Neil and studying him carefully. His look makes Neil feel twitchy and at the same time makes his insides lurch as if he’s on a rollercoaster.

“Uh, are you heading home then?” Neil goes on.

Andrew shrugs. “You?”

“Kind of have to,” Neil replies, tugging on his parka and switching his fingerless gloves for mittens. “It’s Hanukkah. If I’m not there when the candle’s lit, my mom will kill me.”

“Okay,” Andrew says, considering this. “And what will she do if you sneak out after?”

Neil huffs a laugh out of his nose and shakes his head. “Then she’ll turn me over to my dad to kill me.”

“Is there any situation where you meet up with me tonight and don’t end up dead?”

“I- Well- Why do you want to meet up with me?”

Andrew looks at him as if to say, are you serious? Neil tugs at his scarf, feeling warmth for the first time in weeks.

“You,” he starts, not sure how to finish. “You’re nothing like how they say you are, are you?”

“Who’s that?”

“The kids at school. They think you’re scary.”

But he’s not, Neil thinks, his mind flooding with images of Andrew on the ice, reaching for some little girl’s hand as she’s about to stumble. Of Andrew taking care of his stupid papercut even though he didn’t have to.

“I don’t care what they think,” Andrew says.

“Where will you be?” Neil asks, changing the subject. “Tonight?”

“Around.”

“Your parents won’t mind?”

“Bee is a very lenient guardian.”

Neil doesn’t waste his time trying to untangle his thoughts. He knows what he wants to do.

“I can sneak out,” Neil tells Andrew, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“Good,” Andrew says.

They walk down the corridor in silence, eventually passing the empty rink and a suspicious-looking Wymack. Neil waves goodbye to him and then he and Andrew are outside, surrounded by a deeply black night-time that’s being interrupted by the orange glow of the streetlamps. Andrew walks him to his car and then leaves without saying another word, merely tugging on the strap of his backpack and shooting him another one of his looks.

Neil drives home with a grin on his face he can’t get rid of. He can’t wait to see how the rest of the night will turn out.

winter prompts

#winter prompts #fic #aftg #tfc #andreil #aftg fic #tfc fic #still working through these bad boys!#i'm trying to keep them short and sweet but aaaaaa #i overthink too much #I love writing high school andreil tho #ty for the prompt anon!#:')#prompt fills

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white-manz-whore · 5 years

Text

sunday august 25th, 2019

i know and understand that brandon is cancelled. but i still get flustered when i am around him ugh

i saw carl today! i have had this entire plan to ask him all these questions but I never got the chance to. I first saw him while I was doing go backs (returning products customers decide they don’t want). I was hoping to see Avery while doing this but NOTHING. anyways, I only talked to carl for like 20 seconds because he was working and I was working so yeah.

Anyways when I went on lunch I was hoping to see carl in the break room but he wasn’t there. as I was panning the room I fuckiNG SAW BRANDON SITTING IN THE CORNER EATING ALONE.. BITCH MY JAW LITERALLY FUCKING DROPPED. MY MOUTH OPENED. I was so fucking shoooook. I fully expected him to be out eating with his friends awifujwlfijhil. after I walked in he noticed me and quickly looked away. while I was sitting down I pulled a Nina and took a picture. its really bad because I was hella nervous and could barely hold my phone oops. the back of his head is cute oops.

not long after I sat down he got his stuff and left.

after I finished eating I left the break room to go outside and look for carl at his usual smoking spot. nothing. so I decided to go to my car and charge my phone while I call my friend. we only talked for a few minutes because the poor soul was busy. anyways as I go out to leave my car STARTS BEEPING AT ME. LOUD ASFUCKKK. the alarm was going off and I had to idea how to make it stoppp. I shut my door. I unlocked the door. I locked the door. I pushed the alarm button on my key fob. I turned off and on my lights lmao. I TURNED ON MY CAR AND NOTHING. it eventually stopped on its own. I was so stressed and nervous I had no idea if anyone was around bc that shit was hella embarrassing. I stayed in my car for like another minute beaucse I was spooked and if there was someone around I didn’t want them to see me get out of my car oops. I also had no idea why the heck it did that.

when I first got the car I remember reading in the owners manual that there's a security system set in place in which the alarm will go off if it things that you have locked your car, walked off, and accidentally left your key fob in it. thats what I assumed happened? I don’t know to be honest. in the moment I thought that i would never find a solution for it to stop because I felt like I tried everything and it wouldn't shut off. my mind went to the worst place (as it does) and I thought it was just never going to stop going off and my battery would drain and I would be stranded at Walmart. that reminds me, I need to put jumper cables in my trunk in case anything ever does happen. *knock on wood*

after all that I was still stressed and embarrassed but it was getting hot in my car so I was like “its time to dip”. after I opened the door THAT BITCH STARTED BEEPING AGAINNNN. honestly at this point I had no idea what to do. I thought that I should just get out the car or throw my key fob out the window so that it doesn’t think I left it inside. I kept locking and unlocking my car so that it realized that I was still in the fricken car and that bitch wouldn’t shut off. this time I had the door open and like jiggled the ignition and I think that turned it off. I don’t know honestly. it may have just turned off on its own again. im still mad at my car for this. my black Tesla would NEVER do me like that.

after it shut off the second time I finally left my car. as I was walking out there was a car passing by, I look up and a guy winked at me (ew). and as I continued walking he conitnued to look at me while he was driving. then he made a left turn to park in the lot and he was STILL looking at me. I make a face at him bc that shit annoys me oops. I did not want to be outside when that guy got out of his car so I started speed walking towards the entrance.

this is where I notice carl having a smoke and Brandon sitting down on the ground next to him while they talk. they were in carls OTHER smoking place UGHGUHSIHEIRGHU. and they have a CLEARRRRR ASSSS VIEW OF MY CAR. I don’t know if they saw me walk to my car / walk from my car / STRUGGLE TO TURN OFF MY CAR ALARM. at this point im embarrassed as fuck and ready to run away and hide. I was fucking pacing around walmart as I always do when im stressed.

I then saw them both go into the break room area. I wait like one minute and then decide to go inside. Carl being carl asks how I am. we enter the actual break room area and talk for a bit. Brandon was outside in the little hallway thing, but he did walk into the break room for a few seconds while I was talking to carl.

i told him how I saw him outside a few minutes ago and that I struggled to turn off my car alarm. he told me “oh that was you?”. anyways I explained to him what happened and how I have no idea why the heck it went off or how to turn it off. he told me I should probably look at the owners manual to get more info on that in case it ever happens in the future. we talk a bit more until he tells me that he has to get back to work.

so I walk him out to the little hallway area and expect Brandon to be long gone because we were talking for a while. but I found him there eating a granola bar looking cute as heck ):. I caught him off guard and he looked all shy and cute im annoyed. he smiled at me ):. carl mentioned how a few people in cap 2 got employee of the month (him and Brandon included) so theres a photo posted on the wall. I should take a picture of that and send it to y'all. when carl told me this Brandon ACTUALLY spoke in my presence for the first time in a hot minute. I think all he said was “yeahhh” while holding both his arms up pointing towards the photo. once again, he was acting cute as heck IM ANNOYED.

this is the best stock photo I could find. Brandon did something similar but obviously not as creepy looking. and he was facing the photo and not me. and his arms weren’t bent like that. honestly I'm just trying to get y'all to picture how it all went down because I don’t know how to describe things in words.

when my lunch was over I saw Avery with a friend. I discovered that today is his day off. he was looking fine as heck as per usual ugh. I'm starting to think that he isn’t a full time worker because I swear I don’t think he works 5 days a week.

i later saw brandon at self check. I never made eye contact with him and I never caught him staring. but he was very obviously just looking around for me to look at him if that makes sense. along the outside of self checkout theres a lot of chips and candies and he was just looking at that. and then he went to look inside one of those cooler things with sodas/energy drinks in it. and then he looked at the fucking Pokemon card things that are also near self check out. after he made a circle around self checkout looking at all that, he walked out the door and left without buying anything. during this time he didn’t look or smile at me unlike how he was two hours before that when I saw him on lunch. and this goes back to me mentioning how one moment he seems interested and the next he doesn’t.

so the last time I saw him today was when he got off work. I don’t know what he bought but he went to the register across from me. I thought he was going to say hi to me, and he might have if I didn’t have a customer. thats what he did the last time ):. so before this even happened I told the cashier he went to how I embarassed myself on my lunch today (car alarm thing). she told me that I shouldn’t be embarrassed and how she’s done way more embarrassing things. anyways after he left i told the cashier that the reason I was so embarrassed about the car alarm thing is because a cute boy that works at walmart saw. and so naturally, she asked who it was. I told her “its actually a guy that went into your line a few minutes ago, he works in CAP 2″. She replied with, “I know exactly who you're talking about, he is cute but you could do better” i love this girl aksjndfiuahebfuifo. we started talking about him for a while and I discovered that he rides bike to work. the whole time I thought he took the bus but the more that I think about it, riding a bike makes more sense because he gets out late and idk when the trimet stops running.

if my calculations are correct, brandon is off the next two days. in other words he isn’t working until wendesday. but I have wednesday and Thursday off so I won’t see him. and then when im back to work on friday carl is off both friday and saturday. the whole point of this is to inform you that the three (me, carl, and Brandon) of us aren't going to all work at the same time until next sunday. exactly a week from today. these are the best days because carl is with brandon a lot. and carl talks to me a lot.

also carl wants to have dinner together or see a movie before i leave for school. and thats cool but i feel weird about it for some reason idk. how do i avoid this.

also, while working some guy asked me how i pronounce my name. he told me that he’s never met someone with my name and how it was pretty. I had war flash backs to the time that Gabriel asked for my number because he also asked how I pronounce my name. anyways the guy from today was CUTE as heck.

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sugakookie · 5 years

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hey guys! sorry I haven't been on much but I thought I'd give you a little life update

On Saturday, 3 tornadoes hit the county I live in, one extremely close to where I live. The damage is terrible throughout wi from not only the tornadoes (6 more confirmed throughout the state) but from 84 mph straightline winds. trees are uprooted and snapped, cars and campers are destroyed and ppl have lost barns and the roofs off of buildings. Power poles have also snapped and power lines are down everywhere (one even setting a tree on fire) and there was flooding. electrical companies are saying it's the worst outage they've seen in like twenty years. I've been without power like many others and have no idea when it will come back on. It's been a few days. places all over are setting up charging and cooling stations and companies are letting people use showers and whatnot for free. Workers are on overtime trying to fix the power issue. I was at work when this happened, not knowing that it was even supposed to storm let alone get 3 tornadoes by me. We were under two tornado warnings, stuck in the back of the store with a bunch of other team members and customers while the lights flickered and we heard crashes of thunder and rain hit the ceiling. I couldn't see outside. When I checked to see where the tornado hit I didn't even realize one also hit close to my home and driving back seeing the destruction on my street and ppl hugging each other and cleaning up was absolutely terrifying. I also had my dog at home by herself I felt so bad. Thankfully, my place was probably the only house on the street with zero trees and branches down. My family is also safe so I'm grateful. The most they got was a tree on their trampoline. I was kind of glad I was at work and not at home though bc seeing the winds and trees falling left and right around my house would have been absolutely horrifying.

So now I'm just waiting for power to come back on, drove back to my parent's house to take advantage of their generator, and used my gym membership for showering lol. but yeah, that's what's been going on, how was everyone else's weekend lmao

#That was kind of long #but i wanted to explain the whole thing #the whole state is dealing with it too it's insane

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oxatouchofthewickedxo · 4 years

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Saturn’s Return

this post is more for my own benefit bc my memory sucks so you can stop reading now if ya want.

so a while back when i watched parks and recreation all the way through for the first time, i got very intrigued by the conversation that donna and april had about the concept of saturn’s return. which if you don’t know, saturn will return to the exact spot it was when you were born around 27-29 years later. apparently this is a time for rebirth and renewal as well as a shedding of your child self so you can begin the process of growing up and becoming an adult.

not too long after that, i happened to be really paying attention to the lyrics of “the grudge” by tool in which maynard talks about saturn ascending and forcing you to make a choice in your life. didn’t really do much research on it at the time because i was actually in the bath tub while listening to it and like i said, my memory is terrible so by the time i got out and got dressed, it slipped my mind.

last night, my best friend came over to my fiance & i’s house and somehow this concept of saturn’s return came up in conversation which sparked the tool song in my head again. i began to look into it and apparently this theory is extremely prevalent in the land o’ tool. i’m just gonna list the things that may be all in my head but considering maynard and the insanity of all that tool is, i highly doubt it:

1. at least 2 songs have this concept as a theme: the grudge and jambi

2. 10,000 days is the title of an album as well as a song. saturn’s return takes roughly 10,000 days.

3. opiate came out in 1992, 10,000 days came out in 2006, and fear inoculum came out this year, 2019. so in my opinion, opiate is like the birth of tool, 10,000 days come out 14 years later which suggests they are midway through their journey as a band, then in 2019 which is 27 years later, saturn returns and tool as we know them have reached their peak. so i believe that if tool does in fact make another album after this, they may not be the tool we are all used to.

4. lateralus is 78 minutes and 51 seconds long. 78 minus 51 is 27.

5. the grudge is 8 minutes and 36 seconds long, 36-8 is 28.

please note that i do realize that lateralus came out before 10,000 days but i am just pointing out the constant use of these numbers throughout the band’s history. if i didn’t know maynard the way that i do, i would think these were all just coincidences but i have learned so many times throughout the last 9 years that there literally are NO coincidences in this band. everything has meaning. LITERALLY everything.

as far as my personal experiences with saturn’s return, i truly believe this is a real thing. my fiance was 28 years old when we met in 2010 and he turned 29 3 months later. this was a time of internal struggle, self discovery, and straight up insanity for him. he had been using crack for about 4 years at this point and was at this precipice with it where he literally hated how the drug made him feel but his addiction would get the best of him every time and he would end up using. however, something came over him one day and he decided that he wasn’t going to let this happen anymore so he voluntarily went to rehab and he came home a new man. sure, there have been a couple of slip ups here and there, but no binges and definitely a different type of regret afterwards. literally from that moment that he made his mind up to better himself, he has been a completely different person. he is the most incredible human being i know and i am so grateful for whatever clicked in his brain to make him change.

flash forward to now and i am currently 29 years old and the last 4 months have been the most life shaping ones of my life. on august 13th of this year i got fired from my job. 2 weeks later, the cops showed up at our house looking for me. luckily, i had literally just left 5 minutes before this so i didn’t end up in jail. turns out there was a warrant out for my arrest due to a driving under suspension charge i had gotten in may when i got pulled over for speeding. i had absolutely no idea my license was suspended by the way. but anyway, i completely forgot to go to my court date and for some reason, they never sent me anything about the rescheduled one so hence the warrant. due to the fact that not only was i unemployed, but also the cops showed up twice in one day, my fiance’s grandparents told him i could no longer live in our house which we rent from them and is behind theirs. they are super old school so the minute anything like this happens, they think the worst. i had nowhere else to go, so i in the blink of an eye was homeless. prior to losing my job, i had been going to the methadone clinic for over a year in order to get off heroin. because i could no longer afford my methadone, i immediately fell back in with my heroin dealer who was like my big brother, so instead of giving me dope for money, he gave me dope for rides to work. so here i was, homeless, back on heroin, and completely uncaring and oblivious to the shit hole i had dug for myself. all of this led to me driving 2.5 hours to my father’s house on october 11th. i came completely clean with my dad, told him about all the horrible things i had been doing over the last few years, and begged him to let me stay with him for a while in order to get my shit together which i thought was very doable since i was no longer in my city around drugs and enablers. instead though, my dad’s solution was to ship me off to a 12 MONTH LONG FAITH BASED “recovery program.” i should add that i do not believe in the christian god at all and think that organized religion is a joke and he knows this about me. to make matters worse, they also did not allow me to have ANY correspondence with my fiance who i have been with for 9 years and has been my ONLY support system during this time. i am talking no phone calls, no visits, and not even letters back and forth. as if all that wasn’t enough to make me want to kill myself, they also didn’t offer any type of medically assisted detox. i was told all that would be available to me was ibuprofen, rest, and water. if you’ve never gone through opiate withdrawal, then you have no freaking clue about the hell that i was about to be in for. i can’t even put what dope sickness feels like into words. it is literally the worst thing i have ever experienced in my life. i wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. there’s a lyric from the highly suspect song “bath salts” that kind of describes it perfectly....”6 AM, there goes the moon, i feel like death is coming soon & oh, all i wanna do is fucking sleep.” which is about damn right because you feel like you are dying and no matter what you do, you can’t sleep. no amount of downers or sleeping pills can calm those restless legs bruh. but anyway...i am getting off track. i knew going into this bullshit that i wasn’t going to make it. not because of me wanting to use again, but because i was going to have jesus literally crammed down my throat and the absence of matthew from my life for a year was just NOT going to happen. adding insult to injury, the day i went into this god forsaken place was october 14th, ONE FUCKING DAY before our 9 year anniversary. the only thing i even wanna say about my time at this place right now was that they are satists because they would only give me ibuprofen, etc. once a day, i was only allowed to “rest” the first 3 days i was there and this rest was either laying across the world’s most uncomfortable chairs or on the freezing ass cold floor of a fucking church sanctuary. anyways, on the weekends we were FORCED to go all over the east coast in small groups to fundraise in order to “earn our keep”...we had to do this for 13 hours a day every friday and saturday. fast forward to my 2nd weekend there and my 2nd day of my 2nd fundraiser. i’m not sure what came over me, but something inside me snapped. i reached my “i cannot take this shit anymore” point. we went inside the walmart we were fundraising at and i stole one of those small personal boxes of wine, went into the bathroom, and shotgunned the fuck out of this thing. once we were back outside at our table, i waited until it was my turn to “man” the table and my leader’s turn to “work the door” and i went into her bookbag & stole the $550 we had raised the day before. i then asked her if i could go get my tennis shoes out of the van and when i did that, i also grabbed my id and social security card out of my wallet. a couple of minutes later, i asked for a bathroom break which we were not allowed to take alone, so as soon as she went inside a stall, i turned around and ran like a crazy person out of that store & across the street to metro pcs to get a cell phone. after that, i went to walgreens where i got a prepaid debit card and ordered a lyft to a hotel where i got a room for the night. once i got settled, i first made plans with my dealer to come home and get up with him. we looked into me taking a lyft home but that would have cost $200 so we decided i would wait til the morning and take a bus. not sure what it was but something kept telling me that it was a horrible idea to do all of that. it kept getting stronger and when my gut talks to me like that, i listen, so i knew i needed a plan b. i don’t know what put this thought in my head, but i decided to call this guy i had worked with a few years ago. i worked at a pest control company as a schedule coordinator and he was one of the technicians i scheduled for. we lived in different states, about 4 hours away from one another, but we talked on the phone constantly obviously. during the time i worked there, we grew incredibly close and even after i stopped working there, we maintained a relationship and anytime he had to come to my city, which is where the corporate office is located, we would get together. in 2016, i even cheated on my fiance with him. this kid was head over heels in love with me, but i never felt the same way, but me being my typical bitchy self, i preyed on that to my advantage. he and i hadn’t spoken since shortly after we hooked up in 2016, but he literally jumped in his car the moment i asked and was on the way to come get me. unfortunately, his car broke down on the interstate like 45 minutes after he left, so i ended up getting a bus ticket to where he lives the next morning. he came and got me at the bus station and all of a sudden, i was in a different state, 4 hours from home, and living with a man who was not my fiance whom at this point i hadn’t even called yet. i was terrified to tell him about what i had done because i was so ashamed. i didn’t want to disappoint him yet again because at this point, that’s all i was doing. fast forward to 2 weeks later and my fiance found out that i had decided i was going to stay where i was and be with this other dude because i had convinced myself i didn’t need him and that i was living my best life, so of course, he stopped talking to me and said he was done. for 5 days, i didn’t try to contact him or even look at my phone, but one night while the new guy was at work, i was laying in bed watching how i met your mother and seeing marshall and lily made me miss my fiance on a physically painful level. so, i finally caved and turned my phone on even though i knew that any communication from him was going to be negative and horribly mean. instead though, i only had one message from him and it was the sweetest msg ever saying he was going to always love me and be waiting for me if i wanted him, but he wasn’t going to interfere with my happiness if this new dude made me happy. i immediately called him and we stayed on the phone for 2 hours during which we made the plan for him to come rescue me. that was on a tuesday and we planned for him to come pick me up the following monday. those were the longest 5 days of my life. when we finally were together again, he picked me up, i wrapped my legs around him, and we kissed. it was at that moment i knew that he is my fucking home. there will never be anyone for me but him. those 37 days without him were the most agonizing days of my life and i swear i will never be away from him again.

so to bring this to a close, my saturn’s return literally returned me to my home in the literal and figurative sense. i have learned more about myself and about what life is about in the last 4 months than i ever have in my 29 years of life. things are far from perfect right now, but i am somehow at peace because for once, i listened to my heart instead of trying to please everyone else. i can’t explain to you the realizations i have come to in these last few weeks, but i am beyond clear headed and i know without a doubt i did the right thing for my sanity. this saturn’s return shit is real and is no fucking joke.

PS....AS OF 12/12/19, I WILL BE OFF OF OPIATES FOR 2 MONTHS AND THAT IS THE LONGEST CLEAN TIME I HAVE HAD FROM THEM IN 8 FUCKING YEARS SO AYYYYYYE! lol

#saturnsreturn #saturn #life #addiction #opiates #tool #maynardjameskeenan #rehab

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svechnikoffee · 5 years

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take me back to where i belong

take me back to where i belong – nokantrol for @babrielandeskog

words: 6k, last time i checked?

warnings: language & one brief, brief mention of the blackhawks. beyond that, nothing I can think of beyond a gratuitous love letter to whataburger with a side of tyler seguin/jamie benn

notes: a belated happiest of holidays to you, b! thanks for your patience on this wild behemoth of a fic. the holidays are just as good a reason as any to bring together dumb colorado boys and dumb dallas boys, esp over airplanes and biscuits & gravy.

as one of my favorite writers ever, it was an absolute honor to be able to write for you—hope you enjoy!!

title taken loosely from “home” by morgxn, which I only came across after it played in the background of a dylan larkin video haha

It’s dawning on you that you definitely should’ve taken up your mom on her offer of earplugs and a sleep mask as you were hurrying out of the house this morning. It’s been a headache of a day—you’d woken up early to help her cook Thanksgiving lunch, then spent the rest of the afternoon catching up with your cousins and tickling the little ones while their dads sat around the TV watching football.

You’d even managed to slip away into your old bedroom to FaceTime with Tyler and Jamie, and Jamie’s friend Tyson. He seemed nice enough, though clearly unprepared to meet new people given that he was in the middle of shoveling down a DQ Blizzard when Tyler turned the camera to him. You might’ve been preoccupied with stuffing your belongings back into your suitcase, but you were genuinely relieved that Tyler had found someone to hang out with during the brief holiday.

Tyler had straight up begged you to stay in town for Thanksgiving, claiming he needed your company to get through the loneliest holiday for a Canadian in America. You just snorted and patted his head, which had been in your lap like always, shushing him with a finger to his lips.

“You’re so full of shit, you know that Ty?” He waggled his eyebrows in response. Part of you did feel sorry for him, though. He’d spent last Thanksgiving with Rads “going stag”, as they called it, but the older man had worked out a visit from Makar and his parents over the long weekend and looked like he was going to keel over from excitement. Which wasn’t really a stretch from his normal self, but still.

Last you’d heard, Jamie was having a BC friend visit, and even Jackie had booked an Alaskan cruise with her girlfriends after Tyler insisted he’d be fine on his own. Now, you just feel bad for the poor guy. He’d been taking a break from going out—I’m just trying to look out for my liver, (Y/N)—and you knew he’d be a sad sack and spend the night in with the pups.

So you compromised and took the beginning of the week off to spend with your family in Chicago, and promised Tyler you’d be back by Thursday night at the latest. It all worked out perfectly since he and Jamie didn’t have a game again until Saturday…which brings you to this moment right here, sitting in a darkened plane with the hottest guy you’ve ever laid eyes on. And you regularly find yourself around some pretty fucking beautiful people. Klinger still won’t tell you what he uses for his skin.

The worst part about flying from Chicago to Dallas is there are never any direct flights with a legitimate shot of you getting on. You can’t complain, considering the fact that working for an airline means you fly for free, but after a jam-packed day like today, you’d like to put your feet up and skip the layovers.

Luckily, the flight you’d managed to get on flew through Denver without a plane change, which meant you were peacefully out for the count while the second batch of passengers got on. You’d been on so many flights for work within the past few months that falling asleep was just second nature to you now. Plus the luxury of a window seat? Score.

Of course, things don’t always work out like they should, so you were jolted from your nap with a loud snort and slurp before spotting the straight up god sitting at the end of your row. Seriously, you’d taken enough flights to know that meet-cutes just didn’t happen, but here you were now.

The blond man has his reading light on, which is a definite faux pas in your mind, but you pause at the fact that he’s actually reading a physical book. Not just any book at that, but you recognize the dark purple cover and intricate detailing of one of your favorite reads of the year. He must notice you staring, because he just turns the page and smiles before asking, “See something you like?”

You blush and scrub at your cheek before realizing the man hasn’t even lifted his eyes from the page.

“Actually, I do.”

That’s enough for him to raise his head and give you a full look at his face. He has gentle eyes that you can just bet are a blue you could get lost in, given what you can see in this lighting. The man’s beard is cropped clean and short, and you wish you could send a photo of his face to Tyler with a message reading, Real men don’t leave spaces in their mustaches.

“And what might I interest you in?”

“The book you’re reading, it’s one of my favorites,” you admit. You know you’re not the type to play coy and charm the pants off this guy, so you decide to do the best with what you’ve got. If he doesn’t like that, it’s not your problem.

It must be a good open though, because his eyes light up in response.

So it begins, from talking about how good All You Can Ever Know is, and how the author makes the nuance surrounding adoption and racism so poignant and real to their audience. You find out the man’s name is Gabe, and there’s a barely noticeable lilt to his words that he attributes to being from Sweden. Gabe glares at you when you jokingly ask for help setting up the new IKEA bookshelf in your living room, and in turn you offer him the extra cookie you’d saved from your earlier flight.

He tells you his plans got derailed last minute and that he was planning on crashing a friend’s Thanksgiving, because there just isn’t enough time around this holiday to head all the way back to Sweden. After a few hours with him, you’re not sure you want to let him go just yet, so you offer to drive him to his friend’s place since you’d left your car at the airport anyways.

You cringe inside when you realize how creepy that must sound and are a second away from laughing it off when he looks you in the eye gratefully and accepts.

After telling him about your travels, which is something you have in common, Gabe probes deeper and asks about the things that make you you, and something stops you from giving him the canned answer you give everyone else who asks.

“I’ve always wanted to be a writer. Walk into a bookstore and see my name on the shelves, you know?” You sigh wistfully at the dream you’ve had since you were a kid toting around a notebook and pen everywhere you went.

“Imagine that: (Y/N)… what’s your last name?” He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“You’re not getting that out of me—you could be a stalker, for all I know!” You laugh when he rolls his eyes in response. “It’s (Y/L/N),” you finally offer. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Worst comes to worst, he’ll probably just find your LinkedIn and ask to connect or something.

“Wait…(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” His eyebrows scrunch up and you can see some kind of gears turning in his head. You’ve never seen this guy before in your life (you definitely would know if you had), so you wonder how he could suddenly be so familiar with your name. There’s nothing to do but laugh again when his face literally bursts into a sunbeam in recognition, the smile overtaking his eyes. You want to take a photo of it; it’s too much to take in with the naked eye all at once.

“You wrote that article in the inflight magazine, the one about the travel tips to Chicago!” You freeze, your grip running tighter on your phone.

“How do you even know that?” You exclaim, eyeing him suspiciously. “I was asleep for like 10 minutes before you started talking to me!”

“I get bored,” the man explains easily. “And I always check the Hidden Gems features because I travel a lot for work. It didn’t hurt that you wrote about one of my favorite cities.” He winks at you and you know you’re blushing now. Guys don’t really bother to flirt with you, let alone big, beefy ones with big, rugged hands and soft blue eyes.

“Oh, well. That’s quite a compliment, considering I write all of them. Thank you,” you manage to get out. Goodness, why did you have to be so awkward all the time.

“You’re welcome,” he replies earnestly.

“Listen, if you’re not in a hurry to get to your friend’s place…have dinner with me.” Something about Gabe makes you feel bold, like you’re the Sun and it’s up to you to rise and seize the day. You know you shouldn’t trust this stranger you’ve literally just met (your mind supplies that you were the one to offer him a ride in the first place) but the alarm bells aren’t going off in your head just yet, so you figure it’s worth a shot.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I know a place.” Actually, you can’t think of any places that might be worthy of housing Gabe, but you’ll act first, and deal with the repercussions later.

“Sure, let’s do it,” he replies easily, smiling up at you from his perch atop his carry-on.

Of course, you have to keep up the bravado from just moments before, all the while racking through every restaurant you can think of nearby. You’re not sure where Gabe’s headed, and while you’ll most likely stop by Tyler’s before heading back home, you want to stay relatively close by.

“How do you feel about fast food?” You blurt out, your mind immediately jumping to the Whataburger you frequent on your way to work in the mornings.

Gabe smiles wryly at you before nodding. Patting his stomach lightly, to which you vehemently fight against imagining the abs that must live beneath his sweater, he musters out a nonchalant, “I’m sure I can break my diet tonight, just for you.”

You roll your eyes and shove at his arm; you feel like you’ve known Gabe for years as opposed to the few hours you spent with him 35,000 feet above ground. Maybe time doesn’t exist that high up in the air.

“Your parents live in Chicago. You live in Dallas,” Gabe checks off as he shoves a spicy ketchup smothered fry into his mouth. “What’s the deal with that?”

“It’s not that complicated, really. I grew up in Chicago, loved it, got an internship in Dallas during college and loved the work, and I’ve been here since I graduated. I get homesick a lot though, so the flight perks come in handy.” You bite your cheek to keep from getting emotional; any mention of missing your parents still gets you teary.

“Wow,” Gabe breathes. You’re too preoccupied with trying to discreetly blink the tears away before he notices, that you don’t have time to gauge his reaction.

It’s the truth, though. You never thought you’d leave the Midwest, with its ability to shift through all four seasons in a day. But you did, and you can’t feel bothered to apologize for the fact that you’re still not sure where you would call home. What you loved about Dallas the first time around was that it was your space. Everyone you knew in Chicago had practically known you since you’d been in diapers, and you never realized how heavy that burden had been until you left.

You’re just about to say something when Gabe clears his throat to speak.

“(Y/N), I can’t believe you moved over a thousand miles away from home right out of college and have been sticking it out this entire time. You’re really brave.”

“Oh, um. Thank you?” You wipe your nose and sniff before taking a bite of your burger. No one had ever reacted like that before. You’re used to people ribbing you for your flight benefits or joking about how there’s no way you can go back to Chiberia after a few years in the South.

“I get it, though,” Gabe continues. “I moved to Canada when I was in, what do you call it, high school? Then after a few years, I settled down in Denver for work, and that’s where I’ve been ever since.” You quirk an eyebrow, wondering if his parents had been in the service given how he’d had to move all over the world. Now, your move seems small in comparison.

“And you mentioned you were born in Sweden, right? I’ve always wanted to go,” you say wistfully. One day, you’d get your backpacking trip around Europe. One day.

Gabe nods eagerly, and thankfully doesn’t comment on your blatant change of subject. He reminds you of a big golden retriever with how often he smiles and seems to enjoy every moment he’s in. He runs a hand through his hair before diving into what it was like growing up in Stockholm, and how he feels like he’s back home anytime he can smell salty sea air. It’s not all too different from Jamie’s childhood, you realize belatedly. You think they’d get on well.

The two of you continue to trade stories back and forth in the tiny Whataburger down the street from Love Field, and you can’t ignore the want bubbling up from deep within.

When Gabe inputs the address into Google Maps and holds it up for you to see, you have to blink and bring his phone closer to your face to get a better look.

“Wait. Gabe. Whose house are you going to?” Gabe pauses, looking uneasy for the first time since you met just a few hours ago.

“I told you, he’s like my best friend’s best friend. Jamie.”

“Oh. My. God. Oh my God. Gabe. Gabe.” You burst into peals of laughter and have to hit your steering wheel multiple times over because no fucking way. This cannot be real life, right now.

“(Y/N)?” He still looks hesitant, and you’re sure you know why.

“Gabe,” you wheeze. “Gabe. Oh my god. You’re going to Jamie Benn’s house right now? How do you even know him?”

His eyes narrow for a long moment, assessing your frankly embarrassing stature, and he shifts to take his phone back. You’re aware of how you probably look, like a huge Jamie Benn stalker or something, but this turn of events is just too ridiculous to wrap your mind around, let alone, stop laughing at.

“Do you…know him, too?” He asks warily.

“Gabe,” you repeat. “He’s one of my best friends here in Dallas.”

If real life played out the way it did in cartoons, you know you’d see a series of anvils falling from the sky or something equally ridiculous to depict his surprise. Gabe looks flabbergasted, and at a complete loss for words if his sputtering is any indication.

“No fucking way, (Y/N). You sure you’re not just messing with me right now?” He’s finally able to squeeze out right when you start wheezing again. You nod and wipe at the tears streaming down your cheeks; it’s unbelievable how this guy’s got you crying twice for two astronomically different reasons, all within a span of 30 minutes. Gabe must be just as delirious or amused as you are, because he joins you quickly after.

When your giggles finally subside and you trust yourself to drive, you slot your key into the ignition and get started on the drive over to Preston Hollow. You make this exact drive nearly every day, what with the airport being so close to work, but the drive from the airport to Jamie’s house is one you know all too well, having literally gone straight from various work trips to movie nights at his place numerous times over. Just a few weeks ago, Tyler had been walking Gerry over and you’d nearly run the puppy over when he bounded into the street at the sight of your car.

“So, (Y/N),” Gabe starts when you pull out of the Whataburger parking lot. “How exactly do you know all these Stars players?” You bite back a groan; Tyler always gets a kick out of how much you hate telling this story.

“I told you I interned here during college, right?” Gabe nods, and you just barely keep yourself from slamming on the brakes when he flits his tongue to swipe across his upper lip.

“I fell in love with Dallas, and with my line of work being what it is, it’s all about who you know. So after I moved back to Chicago to finish school, I knew I had to make some connections if I wanted to find a job in another state. There weren’t many networking events here, so I kind of had to improvise. My friends took me to a lot of Stars games when I was interning, and I remembered that Casino Night was coming up…” you trail off as you slowly come to a stop at the next red light.

“So I’m guessing you went and seduced some big, sexy hockey players, huh?” Gabe moves closer to dig his elbow into your arm.

“That’s exactly what happened, how did you know,” you deadpan.

“No, for goodness sake’s, Gabe, I didn’t seduce them. I’ve never followed hockey that closely, so I didn’t recognize their faces. Jamie talked to me for almost 20 minutes about working in the Metroplex before a random PR girl came to take him away.” You laugh at the memory of a bumbling Jamie Benn trying to talk to you about taxes and insurance benefits before Tyler had swooped in and hip checked him before winking at you.

With the help of alcohol and some distance from the cameras, Jamie was all soft excitement and fun innuendos while Tyler had just melted into a literal puppy after the event ended. Jamie had asked for your number after you shared some drinks with him and Tyler that night, and you’d always wondered what would’ve happened if you hadn’t had to fly back home the next morning.

Regardless, you kept in touch with the boys until you got a full-time offer with the company you’d interned for the previous summer. When finally making the move to the Big D, you suddenly had 15 fully-grown hockey players at your service when you pulled in with your giant U-Haul. No way could you have imagined any of that from your failed attempt at networking.

“So…your best friends are hockey players, then,” Gabe trails off. You’re not sure where he’s going, but you just nod.

“Yeah, I go to their games and I can finally tell them apart on the ice, but I’m more of a baseball girl myself.” It’s true, you’d grown up in Cubs territory and their World Series win ranked in your list of favorite moments from your entire life.

“Do you know any other hockey players?”

“Mmm, I don’t think so. I guess I know who Sidney Crosby is? But that’s only because Tyler’s obsessed with him.” Gabe laughs brightly and you hear an of course he is under his breath.

“Wait…do you know Tyler, too?”

“Um, yeah (Y/N). I kind of have to, considering I play hockey, too.” This time you really slam on the brakes, which is just fine because no one’s on the road, anyways. You’ve only got another mile or so until you make it to Jamie’s place, and you’d like some time to wrap your head around the fact that this dream of man regularly plays against your best friends.

“You’re a hockey player from Sweden…who plays in Colorado,” you utter our slowly. “You’re somehow friends with Tyson, who’s friends with Jamie, which probably means that Tyson’s a hockey player too, right?” Everything is wild and nothing makes sense.

Gabe at least has the courtesy of looking sheepish. He scratches at his neck and shrugs.

“Yeah, Tyson’s one of my best friends in Denver. You can’t tell him that, though, or else he’ll get a big head.”

“Okay, just give me a second to wrap my head around this. Also, get out your phone because we need to record their reactions when we walk in together. Good thing I have a key,” you whisper conspiratorially.

“I think I kind of like bossy (Y/N).”

You know Jamie’s already expecting you, especially since Tyler had texted he was still hanging out with the guys. Gabe’s already got the video rolling on his phone when you slide the key into the lock. You call out a hello as you slip off your shoes and gesture for Gabe to follow when you hear an “in the kitchen!”

Marshall and Cash come bounding up to you while Gerry takes a moment to survey the new guest. Gabe gives him a generous amount of pats, which has Gabe on his knees scratching the puppy’s belly in no time.

“And that’s why we gave a key to (Y/N) in the first place—she somehow always brings us free Whataburger.” You roll your eyes at Jamie’s bravado, he’s clearly raised his voice so you could hear him.

“Holy shit! Landesnerd!”

You turn and mouth Landesnerd? to Gabe in question, to which he shrugs and probably just zooms in on your face with the camera.

Tyson runs over to see Gabe, bypassing you completely. Jamie’s slower to stroll out and he raises an eyebrow at you before pulling you in for a squeeze. He smells like cedar and soap like always, and it’s so familiar to you now that it almost hurts. Tyler comes steamrolling out of the kitchen yelling your name and throws himself into your arms when Jamie finally lets go. This one’s all Aveda shampoo and Armani cologne, and you playfully bite at his shoulder, which has him yelping and jumping away as always. It’s only been a few days, but you’ve missed your boys something fierce.

Plus, it’s only a matter of time before they realize who you walked in with.

“Hold up, hold up, hold up.” Tyson finally pauses, literally scratching his head at the sight of you. “Do you guys know each other? Gabriel, how did you even get into this house?”

Gabe’s still getting everything on video, and you’re so glad it’s all getting caught on tape. Tyler tilts his head side-to-side, glancing between you and Gabe before finally turning and elbowing Jamie in the ribs. He makes a few contemplative noises before finally whispering to Jamie, who’s eyes shine with mirth when he lands his gaze on you, of all people.

“Hey, Landy, what’s up man? How do you know our girl (Y/N), here?” Tyler continues smoothly, pulling Gabe in for one of those complicated handshake turned bro taps. Jamie does the same, but you can tell from the way Gabe shoves at his chest that Jamie’s chosen to chirp him. Of course.

Tyler just waggles his eyebrows at you suggestively when Gabe finally responds, ruffling Tyson’s hair at the same time.

“It’s just gotta be fate, right? We were on the same flight over, we had Whataburger together, and here we are now.”

“You watch yourself, Landeskog, throwing around words like fate and together. Our (Y/N)’s too good for Colorado scum like you!” You lunge to tackle Tyler to the ground, which just begins an all-out brawl once Marshall and Cash get word of the fun.

Jamie just sighs all too knowingly, and stops in the kitchen to grab the bags of chips he only saves for special occasions. Something tells you it might be a Goon night after all.

When Jamie officially deems it too late for you to go home, he sends you to the guest room on the second floor to spend the night, just as you have numerous times before. You’re thankful he’s pulling the trigger and has a shit ton of extra rooms for everyone to stay in, one of which already has a new toothbrush and one of Jamie’s spare hoodies.

When you wake up the next morning, it’s to the smell of hazelnut which has you out of bed and downstairs almost immediately. Tyson doesn’t even look half awake yet, but Jamie slides over a mug of black coffee to you wordlessly. The shower’s going down the hall, which tells you exactly where Gabe is.

“Can we do breakfast,” you whine at Jamie. He’s become the big brother you’d never had, and you know he dotes on you as a result of being a lifelong youngest child. Jamie just grunts in response as Tyson flops his hands over his ears with a long, pronounced groan.

“Let’s do Norma’s, I want biscuits,” you continue. Jamie nods and pulls out his phone, presumably to check in with Tyler.

“It’s good, I promise,” you reassure Tyson. You pat his head of curls gently and get another sad moan in return. Poor guy, sleeping in must definitely be a BC thing.

You and Gabe are the first ones to arrive at Norma’s an hour later, Tyson texting that he and Jamie would pick Tyler up on their way over. You knew if you were to confront either of your friends about what they were trying to do, the big dumb cow eyes would come out to play, and you really didn’t have time for that right now. You just want to enjoy the time you have with Gabe before he leaves, and be able to keep moving forward without even more unrequited feelings weighing you down. Fuck, you don’t even know if it’s been long enough to characterize these feelings as feelings.

As Gabe steps into the bustling diner, you can see the exact moment everything begins to process in that big, blond brain of his. He opens his mouth, then shuts, just smiling down to himself. He stands off to the side while you give your name to the hostess, and make your way over to join him against the wall.

It smells like heaven, if the celestial beings cried tears of grease, and the diner itself is packed with people of all ages. There’s a booth just next to the bar that’s opened up, and you can’t suppress the giggle that erupts when you imagine yourself and four massive hockey players squeezed into it. Gabe calls your name quietly, and you look up to see mirth dancing in his blue, blue eyes.

Completely unaware of the image burned in your brain, he asks, “What’s with all the Texas flags everywhere?”

You have to chuckle at that. Norma’s is known for straight-up Southern comfort food, and their infamous booths decked out in full Texan attire. It was the first thing you’d noticed your first visit, after the giant pies up front that were easily the size of your entire torso. You still remember trying to take sneaky photos to send to your parents all those years ago. Now, they all knew you by name.

“G, it’s Texas,” you reply simply. There really is no other way to put it. “Sweet tea, Whataburger, and good ol’ American football—that’s the Texas way,” you drawl exaggeratedly.

It’s only a couple minutes before the rest of the boys make it to brunch, and if y’all didn’t stick out before, you definitely do now. Tyson’s the closest to you in height, but there’s no denying he’s just as capable as the others in easily benching your weight.

While the people in Texas can be a little softer in the middle, they’re that much kinder in spirit. The city boy in Tyler has slowly been weathered away over the years, and you can’t even pinpoint the Canadian in Jamie anymore. Which is why Gabe with his perfect face and eyes and hair and everything sticks out like a sore thumb in this establishment. It’s like trying to stuff the Sun into a one story home, and telling yourself you still need a lamp.

Tyler kicks at your foot lightly, and it snaps you out of your reverie. The hostess is already leading Jamie, Tyson, and Gabe to a larger booth in the back, so you and Tyler pull up the rear. He offers you his arm, just like always, and he leads you to your seat with a flourish. Jamie’s already saved a spot for Tyler right next to him, patting the cushion with his paw-like hand, which leaves you with the seat next to…Gabe. Of course.

Jamie’s smirking at you when you look up, so you pointedly gesture to the arm he has stretched out behind Tyler to get him to stop. His smirk turns into a shy grin then, and he just shrugs good-naturedly before turning back to his menu. You already know what you’re getting—a Number 7 with extra gravy, as always—so you turn your attention back to Gabe, who’s bouncing between studying the laminated menu and looking around the diner to see what everyone else is eating.

“The biscuits here are the best things I’ve ever tasted,” you offer. Gabe’s brow is still furrowed, eyes flicking back and forth between the menu choices.

“Okay, but can it beat Denver Biscuit Company?” Tyson all but yells from Gabe’s other side. Some other customers nearby turn their heads in interest, and the curly-haired guy is straight up lucky there’s no one with a fishing vest on in your vicinity right now. Don’t mess with Texas is right.

“Oh my god, Four, we can’t take you anywhere,” Gabe hisses, reaching under the table to pinch at Tyson’s thigh.

“Gabe! What the fuck! It’s a free country, Landesnerd!” Tyler’s straight up giggling now as he leans even further into Jamie’s side, and you’re always a sucker for his giggles.

“This has to be a Colorado thing, why are you guys like this?”

“Oh yeah, Benny? Wanna tell Tyler and (Y/N) about the shit we got up to in Kelowna? Don’t kid yourself, bud, you’re not that great.” Tyler’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline and he mouths over a what to you before turning back to Jamie, who’s huge eyes are looking extra cow-like with a side of feigned innocence.

This time, it’s Gabe’s turn to laugh and turn the conversation to shenanigans he and Klinger got into when playing at Worlds together. You don’t know for what, but you feel like you’ve been rewarded with something when he turns to give you a private smile after ordering an extra side of biscuits.

“For us to share away from the hooligans,” he whispers.

Jamie and Tyler had a quick practice over in Frisco after breakfast, so you’d brought Gabe and Tyson back to your place to hang out before meeting the guys again later. Tyson had holed up in your den to call his girlfriend Emma, and last you had checked he had fallen asleep on your futon. You hadn’t expected anything less. Now, you and Gabe are left watching Love Actually in your living room while sipping on some leftover apple cider you’d reheated on the stove.

“Hey Gabe?” It comes out as barely a whisper, but his eyes flick to yours as he murmurs in response. He taps your ankle with his toes, stupid fuzzy socks nudging against your bare skin. You wish you had the liberty of reaching over and tucking your hand into his, pulling him to wrap his strong, wiry arms around your frame. He looks like a scene on your couch, with your favorite throw strewn across his frame.

“Yeah, (Y/N)?”

“What happens now?” You’re scared to even utter the words, afraid he’ll just brush it all off. Luckily, he seems to have given this a lot more thought than you have.

“Well, I know I really like you, and I think you like me,” he replies easily. “We can be really good together, and I want to give it a shot—give us a shot.”

This is crazy. You’d met him only 24 hours ago, and here he was talking about a long distance relationship. Friends of yours had done this in the past, but you never imagined a whirlwind meet-cute like this for yourself. It was ridiculous to even wrap your head around—this legitimately only happened in rom-coms.

“You sound crazy right now, Gabe.”

“Here’s the thing, though. I’m all in. I don’t mean to sound cocky or presumptuous here, but I have the means to fly us both back and forth even if you didn’t get free flights. I don’t know how we got here over the past day, but I do know that I trust you and I’m willing to try. Are you?”

“Pinch me.”

“What?” Gabe barks out a surprised laugh.

“Pinch me, Gabriel. Prove to me that I’m not dreaming.” And because it’s Gabe, he does.

“Ow! Okay, I get it, I’m not dreaming. You didn’t have to pinch me so hard with your dumb big hockey player fingers!”

“(Y/N), come on. Seriously?”

“I have thin skin! Also…if you’re that committed to this, I can be too. I really like you, too. Also, mess with my heart, young Gabriel, and I’ll send the dogs after you.” You point a finger at his amused face and realize that yeah, maybe it’d be nice to allow good things to happen to you.

“Don’t worry, I can take Tyler in a fight. Jamie…maybe not. But you can’t tell him that.” You don’t get the chance to respond as he pulls you in for the first kiss of the rest of your life.

One Year Later – Chicago, IL

“I love Chicago—ever since a buddy of mine forced me to explore with him a few years ago, I fell in love with the architecture.” You expect the tips of his ears to go pink sheepishly or something equally indicative of embarrassment, but he sounds bold, confident. It’s always a turn-on when guys are unapologetic about their passions, but you never would’ve expected his to be architecture—even then, that of your hometown.

It makes you love him that much more.

“It’s the clean lines of all the modern buildings,” he continues, “and the way it contrasts with everything around it. Look at the Wrigley building or the Tribune building and compare it to the Sears Tower.” He sighs contentedly as he peers out the window of the train car, skyline still just about the size of your thumb from this distance.

“You really know your stuff, eh, Blondie?” Gabe’s head whips around at that, and you bite your lip to keep from snorting right then and there.

“Blondie, huh?”

“It figures, though,” you continue. “Big head must mean a big brain for all that random shit you know.” If anything, spending time with Gabe and the boys in Denver has only provided you with more material to help keep the big Swede in check. It must show, since all you hear is a muffled, “Fuckin’ Four” in response.

It feels good to hop off the Orange Line and feel the cold air on your face. Having spent the last few winters in Dallas, it’s disorienting to feel the pins and needles pricking your face again. Gabe slots his fingers through yours and smiles toothlessly as he presses a chaste kiss to the back of your gloved hand. This city might not be home for you anymore, but this smart, kind, hilarious, ridiculous human being next to you has proven himself more than worthy of that title.

“Oh come on, you sap. You said we had dinner reservations!” Gabe had, indeed, told you in explicit detail what he looked forward to doing to you that night, and it encompassed a lot more than just dinner plans. You’re glad it’s so chilly outside, because you can blame your cheeks flaming pink on the weather.

The two of you walk for a bit in comfortable silence, and the familiar streets make way for a slew of old memories. You remember running from campus to the old train station with your college roommate so you could catch the last train to Schaumburg, sitting in front of the Bean with a box of macarons crying over your ex-boyfriend, and even the time you’d somehow ventured into the shady part of town late at night and had called your dad in a panic.

They’re all fond memories, of course, crucial parts of the saga you call your life. But when Gabe tightens his grip and smiles down at you with so much warmth in his eyes, you can’t imagine ever looking back at this city without thinking of him and all that he adds to every moment of your life. You have all the tools and willpower to make your life yours—just like he pointed out that first night, you moved to Dallas on your own and made an entirely new life for yourself. But he adds so much color and meaning you’d never even considered before, that he makes everything more. If you were functioning on a solid 7, he’s the one that dials everything up to a 12.

And you’re struck with this huge revelation as you’re walking down Wacker in the freezing cold that you want this, want him, forever. It doesn’t make any sense, but your heart starts pounding in your ears, and you never really were very good at keeping a poker face, because all you want to do is tell him all of it now now now.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, babe.” Gabe chuckles and runs a thumb across your cheek. “But I have a feeling that’s not all you want to say.”

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

His eyes widen almost comically, and if you weren’t so nervous about what you’d just said, you might be making fun of him for it.

“Seriously, (Y/N)? You couldn’t wait just three more hours?” His voice is suspiciously watery, and he sounds like you’d just sucker punched him in the solar plexus.

“Wait. What?”

Gabe shakes his head fondly. “Look up,” he whispers.

Too caught in your thoughts earlier, you hadn’t realized where he’d brought you. The sun’s just setting and the sky’s an inky violet lit up by the various buildings comprising your favorite skyline. You look up and gasp at what beholds you because, goddamn.

The first time Gabe had come to Chicago with you, he’d brought you to this exact building on his impromptu architecture tour of the city. Gabe had told you how it was urban legend that the architect of this building had scrapped all his original designs after the death of his fiancée, and designed the building to take after her engagement ring when looked at from the sky.

“No. No fucking way. Gabe.”

There’s no response, so you turn to grab his arm but he’s no longer where you left him. Panic comes over you for a brief second, but it all melts away when you turn to find him kneeling on the ground next to you. He has a huge smile painted on his face, and it almost distracts you from the little jewelry box engulfed by his huge hands.

“(Y/N), I should’ve known that you’d ruin the surprise somehow, but I guess it’s okay because it just brings you one step closer to being my wife. When we came here the first time and I told you that story of the architect, that was me promising you that one day you’d be back with an engagement ring of your own.

“You complete me in a way I never could’ve imagined—you’re it for me, you complement me in every way. You inspire me every day because I see how hard you work for every single thing, and I’m so damn lucky to have found someone that brings that kind of resilience into our relationship. I love you to the end of this earth, and there’s no one else I would rather choose to build my life with.

“Man, it’s really fucking cold down here, (Y/N). Marry me?” The tears have been spilling down your cheeks for quite some time now, so it should come as no surprise to Gabe when you nod and throw yourself into his arms.

“Of course, Gabe, of course. I love you so much.” Gabe presses a loud, wet kiss to your temple in response and laughs heartily when you groan.

“Thank you for choosing me,” he whispers before untangling your limbs and taking your left hand in his. Pulling off your glove and holding it between his teeth, as he does, he slips the ring onto your finger, and you know you’re crying again at just how perfect everything feels. So you pull your new fiancé close and press your lips against his, while Gabe sweeps his tongue in little kitten licks against your lower lip in an effort to deepen the kiss. It only serves to make you laugh though, pure joy coursing through your veins.

“I can’t wait to be your wife,” you say when you finally pull back.

“Don’t you mean, you can’t wait to be Mrs. Babriel Landeskog?” You shove at his shoulder as he smiles unapologetically, taking the opportunity to nuzzle his face into your neck.

Your ring finger suddenly weighs more than it ever has, your favorite human has his arms wrapped tightly around you, and you can hear faint remnants of the carolers singing just a few blocks away at the Christkindlmarket. But what really gets you is the promise of the future as you feel Gabe smile against your skin. A crucial part of what makes a home is having him by your side, and luckily, that’s where he’ll be for the rest of your lives.

#gabriel landeskog imagine #gabe landeskog imagine #colorado avalanche imagine #hockeynetwork #hockey imagine #first time posting in hockey tumblr #enjoy!!#happy new year!#babrielandeskog

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 5 years

Text

Birds ~ Stan Uris (part 1)

A/n: My first song prompt! Heard this and immediately thought of my bird boy. I tried to resist writing it bc I’ve already done a little series fr Stan but I couldn’t help it. Hope you enjoy! Also, y’all are aged to 17/18.

Anon: Pidge

Word Count (without lyrics): 3036

Song: “Birds” by Thomas Sanders ft. Terence Williams

MASTERLIST

I don't wanna drive a fancy car today; I don't wanna ride in a red corvette. I don't wanna jog my Saturday away, but I don't wanna go home yet.

Shoulders clashed together and two pairs of eyes met, wide. “I’m so sorry,” one of the people gushed before pausing, a small smile on their face as their head tilted. “Eddie Kaspbrak?”

Eddie found a smile moving onto his face. “That’s my name,” he confirmed. “And you’re fine, you didn’t kill me.” They both laughed. “What’s your name.”

“Y/n,” was the answer. “We went to middle school together but... you probably don’t remember me.

Eddie felt guilty. “I... do not.”

The giggle that came out of the new face was cute and Eddie found himself liking this person. There was a certain energy. Something that drew him in and made him feel so comfortable and warm. “It’s okay. I was a really quiet, shy, awkward kid. I kinda sat in a corner and hid behind books from... everyone.” An embarrassed expression passed over their face. “I’m working on being more social. Making friends. Try to make high school better than Middle school.”

Eddie scoffed. “Heard it’s worse.”

Y/n smirked. “Challenge accepted.”

This human being was intriguing. Eddie knew his friends would like them. “Hey, want to come meet my friends? We’re just a bunch of Losers but it’s somewhere to start.”

Y/n beamed. “I would LOVE to.”

After that, Y/n became a Loser. The others all felt the same draw as Edddie had, and they were welcomed with open arms.

Stan thought they were fine in a passive way. He seemed to be the only one not super excited about his new friend that they had... Y/n was madly taken with him though. They thought he was so good looking and funny, more prone to laughing at his banter with his boys and his nonaggressive insults than to take offense to them, as if they already knew that Stan’s way of showing affection was through eye rolls and snarky comments.

Freshman year was filled with making memories and adjusting to the shift. Y/n kept their promise in accepting Eddie’s challenge when it came to high school being lame. For every bad thing that happened Y/n set a good thing. A hang out during he weekend or a game night in the middle of the week. Sharing jokes at lunch or bringing cool books and exchanging the worst pick up lines with Richie, making everyone laugh. That was the year went from stranger to friend, telling stories about their life and lineage since their family had been kind of wild. The Losers could tell some of them were fake, but Y/n never insisted they were real and told them for the pure purpose or entertainment. If anyone ever asked or pushed it, they would immediately tell if the story was real or not. Y/n lied a lot less than the average person. Probably because they were terrible at it unless they were telling a story.

Sophomore year was when Y/n stopped making it about their life and turned stories simply into that- stories. Fantastical and amazing and full of magic or horror or drama. They were more entertaining than ever, and Bill often would write down an outline of each story, giving the notes to Y/n and insisting they should write it. Y/n would claim the the same thing: “You write it, Billiam. I couldn’t sit down and organized my chaotic thoughts on paper. I change it based on crowd reaction and there’s so many plot holes.. you’d do better.” So Bill would write them. And, in return, he gave Y/n paper copies of each of the short stories he’d strengthened based off of her idea. Y/n collected them in folders and when Summer came, they left pages for covers and made an amateur book- Short Stories by Bill Denbrough and Y/n L/n. Those stories were told again and again until the other Losers could recite them, but without fault Ben and Eddie would ask for another story during each long stretch of nothing or when they couldn’t sleep at sleepovers.

Junior year was for Richie and Y/n’s insane duo. With Eddie and Y/n’s joking around and brother/sister bond and Bill and Y/n’s bond over writing and how Ben and Mike could rant about anything and Y/n would listen with endless, genuine interest, it was amazing to see Y/n not only be creative, attentive, caring, and genuine, but also be able to keep up with Richie. Y/n laughed at his jokes, as earnest to listen to him as they listened to Mike or Eddie. The two kept the mood light, continuing their constant exchange of jokes and pick up lines. Between Bill’s creative mind and Richie’s unwavering ability to always have something to say, the two boys and Y/n became really close as Y/n tied inside jokes into quick stories, letting Richie jump in with voice impersonations and dorky comments and the most wacky, random suggestions to throw the story for an insane loop. Bill, as before, took notes and wrote the stories at home in his free time, and a new volume was made- “Crazy Stories by Trashmouth, Sunny, and Big Bill.” That’s what they called Y/n. Sunny, because of their cheery disposition and the way they brought a new sense of life and a simultaneously bright and also chill atmosphere. A safe sort of feeling that was so warm and comfortable and felt exactly like home.

When Richie and Bill realized they had feelings for each other, it was Y/n who got them together. And then they got Ben and Mike together too. The summer after junior year, Y/n sat back and smirked as they successfully paired up their friends and watched love bloom.

One day, Eddie plopped next to Y/n. “You’re good at that.” Y/n looked over with their arms crossed and a questioning eyebrow risen. “Match making. Getting people together.” He chuckled. “Think you could help me out?”

Y/n chuckled. “I’ll definitely keep my eye out, Eddie Spaghetti.” Y/n rarely called Eddie that other than in joking, lighthearted moments like these. They had picked it up from Richie. “You deserve to be happy.” They winked and Eddie nodded, agreeing silently.

Two weeks later, Y/n pointed out a guy sitting in the park with a book on his lap. “The one in the purple shirt?” Eddie asked doubtfully.

Y/n shot him a look. “Yes, Eddie. Trust me. He works in the pharmacy, in the back. Sorting things and restocking shelves. He’s super introverted so it might take a second, but you two are a match made in heaven. Swear it on my reputation.”

Like magic, a few months later Eddie ran to his friends a few days before senior year began, ranting about the fantastic date he’d had the night before with his boyfriend and the kids they had and on and on- only Y/n stuck around to listen, laughing and beaming. “YOU’RE MAGICAL!” Eddie ended dramatically.

“I told you!” Y/n insisted.

Eddie looked around at the Losers. Stan and Bill were talking as Richie played with Bill’s fingers. Mike and Ben, not one for super affection while with their friends, were sitting close together and listening to the conversation about what they expected senior year to be like and what they had planned after, every once in a while giving input.

Suddenly he turned to Y/n. “What about you?”

Y/n seemed confused. “What ABOUT me?”

“Oh come on Sunny,” Eddie prompted. Y/n’s nose scrunched up at the nickname. They knew that Y/n wasn’t ALWAYS happy. No one was. They knew that Y/n actually got into a lot of arguments with their parents and had to deal with being the less favorite child compared to their younger sister who was perfect and pretty and for some reason everything Y/n wasn’t to their parents. That’s why Y/n was so accepting and attentive and caring- because they didn’t want anyone to feel alone or less than as they had. But the nickname had stuck more in appreciation for how hard Y/n worked to be the best friend they could be despite it all.

Still, sometimes it bothered Y/n the same was ‘Eddie Spaghetti’ bothered Eddie. They still used the nicknames though.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “You have to like someone. Let me help set you up with someone!”

Y/n shrugged, suddenly not as into the conversation. Eddie was unsure what he’d said and why it had upset Y/n, but he promptly stopped talking. Y/n sighed, running a hand through their hair in habit. “There’s no one interested in me,” they settled.

Later, Eddie would talk about the odd interaction with Ben and the two would team up to figure out who Y/n liked, because Ben said that based on what they said, there WAS someone.

“Come ON, Y/n!” Eddie insisted.

Finally they broke. “Oh my gosh, it’s Stan!” Both boys stared at Y/n with shock. “I’ve tried everything I could think of, but no matter what I do every time I try and get especially close to him he just seems annoyed with me more than anything. Like how he’s annoyed with Richie but worse.” Ben and Eddie shared a startled look. That was bad. “I gave up. He won’t ever like me, I get it.” Their voice grew quiet. “But it won’t change that when he smiles my stomach twists and when he laughs my insides warm up. It doesn’t change that I wonder if his hair is as soft as it looks or think about holding his hand and marking him laugh or...” they shrugged, glaring into their lap. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t bring him to me and when I try to go to him, he gets annoyed.”

There was a pause before Ben scooted close to his friend, placing his hand on their shoulder. “We have one year left, and then we’re done with high school. You’ve been into him since freshman year?” Y/n nodded. “That’s three years, Y/n. Three years.” Eddie and Y/n both gulped, but Ben smiled. “You might be THE matchmaker, but I think you should go for it again. Try a different tactic. Don’t give up or stop trying. Stan deserves someone who’s as loyal and persistent as you. And you never know, maybe you’ll find a hole in that wall of his and make his life better just as we know you do for everyone.”

Smiling, Y/n thought about it for a second. A small smile grew on their face and they nodded. “Yeah. Sure.”

Ben and Eddie cheered, causing Y/n to laugh.

...but saying they would do it would be a easier than doing it. Succeeding would be even harder. But, Y/n was trying it seemed. Again.

Big sigh.

Today is not the day to jump out of a plane. I don't wanna parasail or play roulette. I don't wanna risk it all or go insane, but I don't wanna go home yet.

The couples in the Loser’s Club set up a group date as a last ditch hurrah before summer ended, leaving Stan and Y/n with nothing to do with their friends. Y/n took their chance, approaching Stan as the group broke up for the day. “Hey.”

Stan looked over and smiled a little, nodding. “Hello.” The small, slightly friendly, casual upturn of the corner of his lips was all Y/n could ever get from Stan and it was frustrating when the one person she wanted to see smile the most was all the only person they couldn’t get to really smile.

“So everyone’s going on that group date tomorrow,” Y/n began and Stan looked at then sideways, not wanting to partake in any such activities with his friend just because Y/n couldn’t be fine on their own. “Maybe we could hang out tomorrow? Not with the other Losers on the date, but just like... I don’t know, anything.”

Stan had planned to go birdwatching the next day so the idea of not going the one day he was sure absolutely no one would bother him was disappointing. But he was working on being more of a people person, so though hesitant, he managed a, “What did you have in mind?”

Y/n help hope rise inside of them. “We could go to a movie.”

Stan’s nose scrunched. “It’s supposed to be a really good day tomorrow, I don’t want to lock myself indoors for too long. Plus I’ve seen all the movies out that I’m interested in already.”

Touching their bottom lip, Y/n thought. “So then no arcade either.” Stan shook his head. “We could go to the Quarry,” they offered next.

That didn’t seem to please him either. “It’s not as fun without the whole gang,” he pointed out. And Y/n had to agree, he had a point.

“We could ride bikes. Like, race or just ride.” Even Y/n knew that was a weak idea. “Or go in a hike. Or have a picnic! Oh that would be so fun!”

A hike and picnic actually sounded like a great idea. Stan could see them walking, quietly their footsteps to see birds while walking, and then continuing to do so as they ate, making the smallest talk about buds and nature and other odds and ends things that popped into his head.

But even though he could see it, he knew it wasn’t realistic. No one was into bird watching- even the other Losers thought it was dorky. Richie teased him about it all the time. Y/n was too loud and impatient anyway and would probably scare all of the birds away. They’d want to tell stories or have long, constant conversation. Stan had always been annoyed with Y/n. The way they seemed to bond so easily with everyone but him. They were too loud and hyperactive- Stan was quiet. They could never get along like Y/n did with the others. For that reason alone Stan said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He didn’t know why he had such a wanting to keep Y/n away but he did. So whatever. He had his birds anyway.

Y/n deflated, completely out of ideas. They walked in silence for quite some time. House passed. Y/n’s turn passed, but they continued with Stan, trying to come up with something. Anything. They made a promise to Eddie and Ben to do their best, so no matter what they would.

After a few more weak ideas passed through their mind, though, Y/n slowly realized that they had been right- Stan would never go for them. They couldn’t even get him to hang out!

The pair finally reached Stan’s house and Stan turned to Y/n, an eyebrow raised in annoyance. “You coming inside with me too?”

Y/n stared at Stan for a really long time, eyebrows pushed together and hands on their hip. Now THEY were the annoyed one and it took Stan off guard. Y/n’s eyes were actually really pretty and the simmering irritation and swirling thoughts made this intense look in their eyes that was dark and alluring. They were... kinda cute actually.

Stan hated when his brain did this. Notice things about Y/n. Notice how good looking and easy to get along with they were. He hated how he was secretly so drawn to Y/n. He’d become antisocial and with all his friends pairing up, his favorite past time was just to block out the whole world and look at birds and pretend he wasn’t himself. Just a drifting cloud, watching and observing and taking notes. It was freeing, the quiet. It let him relax and be himself. It had gotten to the point that anytime he was around people he just felt... on edge. Like he was irritated simply by other people’s presence. So he avoided people. There was a kind of content that he couldn’t enjoy with people around and he didn’t want to let that go.

Except Y/n kinda made him want to. Made him want to think of a different kind of life with the one person he was sure was the polar opposite of the person he needed in his life that way.

Nothing too dramatic. Going on dates. Holding hands. Mindlessly playing with fingers and hair like Bill or leaning their shoulders together as one of them read like Ben and Mike. Someone to make you smile and make memories to bring smiles and conjure for lonely moments. Someone to kiss, maybe, if that was as good as he secretly wondered it was. Someone to BE with. He knew he was expected to find someone, eventually, but... he had time right? And no way in the world could Y/n be that person anyway!

It was a mantra he’d been repeating to himself since the end of sophomore year when Y/n had leaned over and kissed Stan’s cheek to congratulate him for passing his final exam. The little bubbles and heartbeat trips had added up to a picture Stan didn’t like in that moment, blaring a truth he had settled to simply ignore until they all went away. Until Y/n went away. But the feelings and the person who caused them still stayed. And, in moments like these, it was hard to keep that truth buried as deep down as he usually had them. It was hard to not admit it even for a split second just to himself...

Y/n was really good looking. Funny, nice, positive, caring. Thoughtful. Gentle. They were dedicated and hard working and fun and their teasing was exactly what made him go. They way they flirted seemed to appeal just to him.

He... he...

“Stan?” Y/n called. Stan blinked, humming as he was knocked from this thoughts. He realized he was glaring more deeply than he had been before, frustrated with himself. Y/n was frowning, probably think he was glaring at whatever they had said. “I said, if you hate all of my ideas, what do you do for fun?”

Stan’s heart stopped dead in his chest. Birdwatching. Birdwatching is what he did for fun.

Fuck.

#stan uris #stanley uris #2017 #IT #Wyatt oleff #sort of #actually #more hesse eisenberg #because aged up and shit #but whatever #I had funnier tage but I saved the post on the srojg blog #so this is what you get now #sorry #please read this and cry with me #fluff #angst #i’m so dxcited for thus #and it’ll be sooooooooo fluffy I promiss

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lukesvalentine-blog1 · 5 years

Text

Get To Know Me Tag

1. What is your full name? Alicia M. Stinnett

2. What is your nickname? Ally

3. What is your zodiac sign? Sagittarius

4. What is your favorite book series? I can’t focus enough to read one book, let alone a whole series lol

5. Do you believe in aliens or ghosts? both

6. Who is your favorite author? John Green

7. What is your favorite radio station? 94.5

8. What is your favorite flavor of anything? I love chocolate. Mainly dark chocolate. So, that I guess?

9. What word would you use often to describe something great or wonderful? Dope

10. What is your current favorite song? Good Enough by Little Mix, but it's gonna probably change in about 2 or 3 days

11. What is your favorite word? Doggo or puppo

12. What was the last song you listened to? Hair by Little Mix

13. What TV show would you recommend for everybody to watch? Stranger Things or Riverdale

14. What is your favorite movie to watch when you’re feeling down? I usually watch youtube when I’m feeling down so I’m just gonna say Buzzfeed Unsolved.

15. Do you play video games? Not really. I love watching people play then though

16. What is your biggest fear? Being ignored and unloved by someone a really care about.

17. What is your best quality, in your opinion? I’m loyal

18. What is your worst quality, in your opinion? My anxiety makes me too paranoid about everything so that.

19. Do you like cats or dogs better? Dogs

20. What is your favorite season? I like fall and spring. Can’t choose tbh.

21. Are you in a relationship? Just got out of one a few days ago..

22. What is something you miss from your childhood? Not being stressed all the time

23. Who is your best friend? Kaleigh and Bailey

24. What is your eye color? They change from blue, to green, to turquoise, and to gray.

25. What is your hair color? Light brown on top and ombre` to blonde

26. Who is someone you love? My ex..

27. Who is someone you trust? My two best friends and my ex

28. Who is someone you think about often? My ex...

29. Are you currently excited about/for something? Sorta. I have dress rehearsals for a choir performance tomorrow, but i've been pretty down lately so I’ll probably end up crying.

30. What is your biggest obsession? Music

31. What was your favorite TV show as a child? Hannah Montana

32. Who of the opposite gender can you tell anything to, if anyone? My ex

33. Are you superstitious? yep

34. Do you have any unusual phobias? I probably do, but I can’t think of any right now

35. Do you prefer to be in front of the camera or behind it? It depends on what I’m doing for the camera.

36. What is your favorite hobby? Singing

37. What was the last book you read? I honestly don’t remember

38. What was the last movie you watched? The Autopsy of Jane Doe

39. What musical instruments do you play, if any? Just my voice

40. What is your favorite animal? Dogs or Penguins (not bc it was Luke’s favorite lol)

41. What are your top 5 favorite Tumblr blogs that you follow? I’m not on Tumblr enough to have a top 5 blogs

42. What superpower do you wish you had? telekinesis

43. When and where do you feel most at peace? In my now ex boyfriends arms on a Saturday evening

44. What makes you smile? It was my boyfriend, but thats over so I’m gonna say 5SOS, Little Mix, music in general, and singing.

45. What sports do you play, if any? Ew sports. I play none.

46. What is your favorite drink? Pepsi, but I’ve been drinking a lot of water for the past year so I could lose weight and it's killing me, bc i was obsessed with Pepsi.

47. When was the last time you wrote a hand-written letter or note to somebody? I don’t remember, but probably not too long ago, bc I write a lot.

48. Are you afraid of heights? Nah

49. What is your biggest pet peeve? Big egos and being dicks about it

50. Have you ever been to a concert? Yep. One Direction, but I only went to see 5SOS. Oops?

51. Are you vegan/vegetarian? Nah, but I’m not much into meat.

52. When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up? A pop singer

53. What fictional world would you like to live in? Maybe Harry Potter, but I don’t wanna fight any bad guy. I just wanna go to Hogwarts and do magic.

54. What is something you worry about? My ex not coming back or not caring, not being able to focus on school work, my mom’s mental health, and my mental health.

55. Are you scared of the dark? Nah

56. Do you like to sing? YES

57. Have you ever skipped school? All the time, but mainly, bc of my anxiety problems

58. What is your favorite place on the planet? My ex’s arms..

59. Where would you like to live? A little further from where I live now, but in the same state and close enough to the college I wanna go to.

60. Do you have any pets? Yep. 4 amazing doggos

61. Are you more of an early bird or a night owl? Night owl, definitely.

62. Do you like sunrises or sunsets better? Sunsets

63. Do you know how to drive? Yep, but not a stick shift and that’s what type of car I have, so I can’t drive it yet.

64. Do you prefer earbuds or headphones? earbuds

65. Have you ever had braces? nope

66. What is your favorite genre of music? Don’t have a favorite.

67. Who is your hero? My mom.

68. Do you read comic books? nope

69. What makes you the most angry? My anxiety problems fucking up my life

70. Do you prefer to read on an electronic device or with a real book? Electronic device so I can turn off all the lights and get less distracted and actually be able to read.

71. What is your favorite subject in school? Choir

72. Do you have any siblings? Yep. One full brother, one half brother, and one half sister.

73. What was the last thing you bought? I think it was a Starbucks doubleshot coffee that you can get at a gas station or WalMart

74. How tall are you? 4’10

75. Can you cook? Yep

76. What are three things that you love? Singing/music, my loved ones, and animals.

77. What are three things that you hate? Anxiety, depression, and mainly my brain.

78. Do you have more female friends or more male friends? Female

79. What is your sexual orientation? Pansexual

80. Where do you currently live? Kentucky

81. Who was the last person you texted? My ex

82. When was the last time you cried? Like, an hour ago?

83. Who is your favorite YouTuber? Don’t have one, but I do love Buzzfeed Unsolved.

84. Do you like to take selfies? Yep, but only with fiters.

85. What is your favorite app? Instagram or Snapchat

86. What is your relationship with your parent(s) like? I’m really close to my mom and my dad is okay, but usually isn’t really there for me or my full brother.

87. What is your favorite foreign accent? French or British

88. What is a place that you’ve never been to, but you want to visit? I have a lot of places I wanna go to, but I guess Japan is my number 1.

89. What is your favorite number? 5 (not bc of 5SOS lol. 5 has always been a significant number in my life for many reasons.)

90. Can you juggle? eh

91. Are you religious? eh

92. Do you find outer space or the deep ocean to be more interesting? Outer space

93. Do you consider yourself to be a daredevil? Lol no

94. Are you allergic to anything? Yep. Animal hair and coconut. Most allergic to cats.

95. Can you curl your tongue? yep

96. Can you wiggle your ears? nope

97. How often do you admit that you were wrong about something? A lot tbh, bc I usually am.

98. Do you prefer the forest or the beach? Beach 100%

99. What is your favorite piece of advice that anyone has ever given you? Nothing will put you down unless you let it.

100. Are you a good liar? It depends on who im lying to and what I’m lying about. Usually I’m bad at it though.

101. What is your Hogwarts House? Gryffindor

102. Do you talk to yourself? Yep. A lot lol

103. Are you an introvert or an extrovert? Introvert, but I wouldn’t mind going places for people I love and care about.

104. Do you keep a journal/diary? yep

105. Do you believe in second chances? yep

106. If you found a wallet full of money on the ground, what would you do? Take it to the police so they can find who owns it.

107. Do you believe that people are capable of change? yep

108. Are you ticklish? Only in one place

109. Have you ever been on a plane? nope

110. Do you have any piercings? Yep. My ears, cartilage, and nose.

111. What fictional character do you wish was real? Landon Carter from A Walk To Remember

112. Do you have any tattoos? Nope, but I’m getting one this summer

113. What is the best decision that you’ve made in your life so far? Got into theater

114. Do you believe in karma? yep

115. Do you wear glasses or contacts? Used to, but grew out of it.

116. Do you want children? Yep. I want a boy and a girl, but no matter what I have, I will love them so much and spoil the shit out of them.

117. Who is the smartest person you know? My mom

118. What is your most embarrassing memory? Telling my cousins to get lost bc we don’t want them there as a joke, but then realize it wasn’t actually them.

119. Have you ever pulled an all-nighter? Multiple times

120. What colour are most of your clothes? Pink

121. Do you like adventures? Definitely

122. Have you ever been on TV? Only once, bc my friend was on the news for getting into a dog attack and I was interviewed since I saw it happen

123. How old are you? 17

124. What is your favorite quote? “if you don’t heal what hurt you, you’ll bleed on people who didn’t cut you.” - Crystal Leigh (soon to be Clifford)

125. Do you prefer sweet or savory foods? Savory

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paladinsuho-moved · 6 years

Text

it ain’t me [min yoongi]

SUMMARY: you get tired of him crawling back to his gang, ages after he promised he would leave for your sake. but a not so small misunderstanding almost ruins everything.

somewhere along the lines, we stopped seeing eye to eye. you were staying out all night, and i’d had enough.

no, i don't wanna know where you've been or where you're going, but i know i won't be home and you'll be on your own.

who's gonna walk you through the dark side of the morning? who's gonna rock you when the sun won't let you sleep?

who's waking up, to drive you home, when you're drunk and all alone? who's gonna walk you through the dark side of the morning?

it ain’t me.

-- it ain’t me // kygo & selena gomez

SHIP: min yoongi (suga) x reader

GENRE: angst with a happy ending

WARNINGS: mentions of violence, language, medical procedures, mentions of alcohol, a slightly unhealthy relationship

word count: 6.8k

a/n: yo this has been sitting in my drafts since last july, and i’m home sick today so i thought why not FINALLY finish this??? i have the BIGGEST kink for blond yoongi, idk. i’m not so sure about the ending, i might go back and re-write this. also, please understand that i don’t condone toxic relationships similar to the dynamic that yoongi and the reader have in this story. if you’re in a relationship where you don’t feel safe, be it because of your partner’s behavior or the circumstances under which your relationship operates, PLEASE get help and try to leave (and jesus christ i KNOW this sounds really hypocritical because of the ending, pls don’t come for me). anyway, i hope you enjoy!! as for the trailer, try to imagine it kind of like the train car from the agust d mv. also pls help bc this gif is,,, killing me

masterlist

BANG.

The noise against the door woke you up, and despite your limbs still feeling numb with sleep, they almost instantly seized up in fear of the unknown.

Two more bangs against the door, and you reached towards the other side of the bed and, barely even registering it was empty, you grabbed the baseball bat that was hidden between the bed and the nightstand.

Shakily standing up, you let your feet pad quietly across the trailer, turning on the light in the small space. You stepped towards the door, one hand reaching out for the doorknob, the other, gripping the bat, knuckles white and hands clammy with fear.

BANG.

This time, the noise caused you to jump back in fear, and you shut your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. What if it was a thief? A murderer? Why would anyone come banging on your trailer door at this time of night?

You bit your lip, remembering there was no peephole to look through in the trailer. Here you were, holding a baseball bat while dressed in nothing but a white t-shirt and some underwear, so close to passing out in fear, but you had no way of knowing who or what was outside.

Trying to calm your shaking, you crept towards the counter, where the key sat. Grabbing the key quickly, before tiptoeing back to the door and shakily inserting it into the lock, another bang caused you to whimper softly in fear. You gripped the bat tighter, pursing your lips in another attempt to calm the hurricane of emotions stirring in your chest.

The door was swiftly unlocked, and before you could convince yourself otherwise, you bit the bullet and opened it, ready to swing the bat.

“Baby!” a familiar voice slurred out loudly, and your stiff body instantly began to relax, not registering the off tone of your boyfriend’s voice. Your pounding heart immediately began to slow down. You closed your eyes in relief, lowering the bat, and giving a soft exasperated sigh accompanied with a relieved smile.

So that was why Holly wasn’t barking, your mind realized, thinking back to the small dog who always slept outside of the trailer when it wasn’t cold.

“Goddammit, Min Yoongi, you almost gave me a heart atta—”

You voice trails off into the unknown as your eyes opened again, and you finally saw his face. Even though there was barely any light, the damage was there, and it hurt to even look at it. You felt your eyes widen as you assessed the damage in the dark, dim light of the trailer doorway.

The worst thing was that he was smiling like that. Like he was off his rocker insane. Yoongi only smiled like that in two different situations: either, he was having the time of his life, or he was completely smashed, and sometimes, sometimes even both.

One eye was swollen shut by what you could only assume was a series of punches, and with the other, you could see a black eye beginning to appear. His nosebleed had dried but it was still visible. there was a cut along his left cheek and his bottom lip was split straight down the middle.

Less than a second later he was pulling himself into the trailer, and you backed away to give him the necessary space as he shut the door, stumbling into your small, shared home.

“Hey, baby girl,” he murmured again, and now that he was closer, you could smell the stench of soju and cigarettes that seemed to radiate off of him.

You didn't need to know anything else. He'd been out with “the guys” again. Walking towards the counter and setting the bat down there, you sighed, remembering how he'd walked out the door about an hour before you went to bed, and had claimed he was “going for a walk.” You didn’t need to ask why, you already knew it was a lie.

The fact that you knew and didn’t say anything was like the feeling you get after being sucker punched -- a brief moment of surprise and disbelief, did that really just happen? Before it starts to sink in. You knew, and you didn’t stop him, and now, here you were, your boyfriend’s face split like a porcelain doll -- right down to the pale skin and pretty eyes.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Your voice was quiet yet harsh as you asked him once you’d walked back in front of him, not wanting to deal with whatever excuses he had now, even though you needed to know why. He'd taken off his jacket, and you watched as you threw it on the couch. You couldn’t help but notice that he was swaying under the influence of the alcohol in his system.

You'd been dating Yoongi for four years, and living with him for three. You'd had only vague knowledge about what he did for a living before moving in, but had realized just how bad it was once you finally did.

First of all, he lived in a cramped trailer that you assumed was fine for just himself and the dog, but became too small with the two of you sharing the space.

During the honeymoon phase of when you'd first moved in, you'd thought it was endearing, the idea of the small space being shared between the man you loved and yourself. You would move the small dinner table to the side and fold the chairs, and stay up late slow dancing to soft rock music or quiet hip hop beats, just basking in each other’s presence.

Other nights were spent in bed, exploring each other’s bodies and mapping out your favorite places with your mouths, until one of the two writhed underneath the other and you called his name, grateful that a trailer meant no neighbors who could complain about the noise.

And then that phase ended some six months after you moved in, and suddenly the lack of space was suffocating, and you'd never realized how claustrophobic the trailer made you feel because you had been distracting yourself with the man who owned it, and ignoring both the small living space and his flaws.

Second of all, how almost every saturday night, he would go out with his supposed friends, and you would stay awake on the couch, waiting for him or falling asleep there, and waking up next to him in bed, only to find him asleep with a black eye or a broken lip, bruised knuckles and a hangover always present.

It was when you gave up on waiting up for him, and he stopped carrying you to bed when you did fall asleep on the couch, that the worst days of your relationship began, almost two years ago. All you would ever do was fight. But when he came home to you one night looking through your laptop for a new place to live, it all came to a standstill, and he seemed to realize how bad things were. It was as if he hadn't registered the screaming that upset the dog, the slamming doors or the throwing things when one of you exploded, having had enough. Never at each other, though. Never at each other.

Recently, in an attempt to make things better for the both of you, he was trying to get away from all of it. But to him, you assumed, it was like a drug, and he was hooked. But the idea of a drug always implied the possibility of an overdose, and that was what scared you the most.

Before he could answer, he was stumbling, and you had to grip him with all the strength your tired body could muster at the ungodly hour of four AM.

“I didn't realize how late it was, jagi,” He slurred, leaning on you. As you took a deep breath, trying to let go of some of your anger and to ignore the the smell of alcohol on his breath, you began to move him towards the sorry excuse for a dining table you owned, and managed to get him to sit down.

“Take off the shirt, Yoongi,” You muttered as you opened and closed the cabinets in a hasty search for the first aid kit you kept for occasions like this, even though he'd never come back this bad before.

You heard his suggestive chuckle from behind you back at the dining, and remembered just how horny he could get when he was drunk, and no matter how much you refused to do anything while one of you was sober and the other one wasn't, he would always ask for more kisses than necessary.

“I need to see if you're hurt anywhere else, Yoongi,” You remarked sharply as you pulled out the case and walked back towards him, setting it on the table just in time to watch his suggestive gummy grin fade. He didn’t answer.

Good thing too, you thought to yourself, if he said anything I’d probably have punched him as hard as whoever did this to him.

As you pulled off his shirt, and his pale chest was exposed, you felt your chest flood with relief as you found no cuts bad enough to need more than a few stitches.

“What happened to you, anyway?” You asked tiredly, but with some concern laced in your tone. Total ass or not, he was still your boyfriend.

“He was asking for it, saying I wasn't shit, stuff like that. But if you think I look bad, you should see the other guy,” he answered, and you grimaced, remembering the last time you’d seen your boyfriend in a fight with someone else.

It’d been a few months ago, when you’d decided to go dancing because you hadn't gone anywhere together in such a long time, and you decided that both of them needed to get out of the trailer. He'd gone to the bathroom, leaving you for no less than five minutes, and some guy decided it would be a great idea to ask if you wanted to find somewhere more private, and in what you deemed the most cliché experience with a man who couldn't take no for an answer, he decided to go off on you, calling you a slut and a bitch and every other degrading term underneath the big blue sky. But it was when he tried to hit you that things got bad.

Because that was when Yoongi came back, and to be welcomed by such a sight was… well, less than comforting to him.

In the end, you had to pull him off of the other man, begging him to stop. Everyone was watching the scene unfold, staring as you tried to pull your boyfriend off of what was left of the man, who was half dead from Yoongi’s punches, all because your boyfriend had decided to ‘defend your honor’, all while the heavy bass was still making the club vibrate.

After that, the both of you had been thrown out of the club into the cold, the bartender who’d been in charge at the time telling you both to scram.

Neither of you said anything on the way home, the car quiet except for the soft rumble of the motor as you drove, seeing as you were the designated driver. He was sitting shotgun, looking at his then bruised hands, deadly quiet. His display of violence had frightened you enough for him to notice, and so he decided to give you the space you needed.

You could still remember the look of panic in his eyes when you’d gotten home, when he'd tried to put his hand on your cheek but you flinched away. You’d never seen him look so scared, scared that he'd lose you.

That was the thing with your beloved Min Yoongi — he didn't notice how bad he messed up until a small detail put everything into perspective for him.

“Jagiya,” he'd rasped out in the darkness of the bedroom later on, “You know I would never hurt you. Ever.”

You nodded, then realized he probably wouldn't see it. “Yeah,” You whispered, before rolling over so your back faced him, “I know… goodnight, Yoongi.”

He murmured your name, calling for you quietly.

“Yes, Yoongi?”

“I love you.”

“...I-I love you too, Yoongi.”

You forced herself to focus on the task at hand, and pulled out the disinfectant spray from the kit, along with a small pair of surgical scissors, cotton balls, bandages, a needle and thread.

In two quick strides, you were in front of the refrigerator, and you were pulling out the ice cubes you'd been saving for when the air conditioner stopped working as it always did during the hottest days of the summer.

Grabbing a small dish rag, you pulled two ice cubes out of the casing and wrapped the rag around them, before striding back over to Yoongi, pushing a few platinum blond strands out of his face before pressing it to his swollen eye.

“Hold that there, baby,” You said softly, grabbing one of his hands and placing it on the rag, hearing him hiss softly as the cold made contact with his bruised skin. You let go of his hand, and he held it up as you hoped he would.

Not stopping to look at his face, knowing he was watching you work, you decided to get to work. the disinfectant was sprayed on a cotton ball, and dabbed across the cuts on his face and chest.

Moving onto his knuckles, your hands seemed to fly across his skin as you fixed up his hands for what seemed like the millionth time since you first started dating, and as you finished wrapping the gauze around his right hand, you looked up at him.

“Is that too tight?” Your voice was still raspy, you realized, probably as you were still exhausted from your restless sleep. He shook his head in response, flexing his aching fingers to make sure.

“No,” That was all he answered, and you nodded. As you looked across the cut on his cheek, you asked yourself whether it needed stitches or not. You paused, trying to remember if you’d ever gotten to learn about stitches on the face, specifically, or if it was the same as any other stitch on the body.

This was the worst Yoongi had ever been, and if you didn't know how to treat him with your limited knowledge of first aid, then…

“Yoongi, I don't know about this cut, maybe we should get it checked out—”

“No.”

You hesitated in continuing as you heard the firmness in his voice. You knew that Yoongi hated hospitals, for both personal reasons and fear of rival gangs finding his personal information, and along with that, you. If there was something he didn't want, it was you getting dragged into his business affairs.

You swallowed down the lump in your throat, before speaking gently. “Yoongi, baby, I don't know if stitches on the face have a different procedure than—”

“Just do it like you normally would,” He seemed to growl, sounding annoyed, as if it were your fault that he was in this dilemma. This only made your anger grow.

“Fine,” you snapped under your breath, and you watched as he looked taken aback by your small outburst, “Put down the ice. I can't do this with your arm covering the way.”

He set it down on the table, and it took all of your strength to not slam your fists on the table out of frustration.

He promised he wouldn't go out with them anymore, that he'd try to leave it for you. For you, he’d said, for us, because I love you.

Blinking back tears of rage, your hands pulled the scissors, along with the needle and thread toward you.

“Does it feel less swollen?” You mumbled half-heartedly, not meeting his eyes as you began to prepare the thread and the needle.

“I guess,” he answered, his voice still slurring slightly, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Yoongi.” Your voice was cold and clipped, and you clenched your jaw in an attempt to calm yourself. “Just let me do what I have to do, okay?”

You brushed more hair out of his face, analyzing how many stitches he would need. You let your eyes rake across the pale skin that had been rudely interrupted by this ugly cut that you could only assume was from a knife. After a few seconds, you deemed the cut worthy of three stitches, threading the needle.

“Sit still,” You warned, and began to work.

As you let your hands do their meticulous job, moving as swiftly and calculated as they could this early, your mind wandered to the moment Yoongi seemed to realize he couldn't do this forever.

It had been almost four months ago, when the both of you had a pregnancy scare. You could remember the shame and fear blooming like a flower before immediately beginning to burn like a brazier out of control when you mumbled those three words to him.

Yoongi, I’m late.

During that next week, after several arguments that ended in you crying and him storming out, you decided to finally buy a pregnancy test and see the truth. At least if you were pregnant, you wouldn't have to live with the constant uneasiness of not knowing.

And to your relief, when you entered the bathroom to do it the test, you almost cried tears of relief when you found that you'd started that very day.

When Yoongi came home that night and you told him the news, after the initial relief that was celebrated between the two of you, after him picking you up and kissing you and holding you for what felt like an eternity, after the celebratory ordering of pizza, you both sat down and had a serious conversation until the sun came up the very next day.

As you cut the thread on the first stitch, you heard him grunt softly in discomfort as the tugging on his skin stop briefly as you began to prepare more thread.

You’d spoken about several things that night: Yoongi admitted that once he thought there would be a small child between the two of you, he'd realized how ready he was to live the rest of his life with you. That whenever he thought of having a baby grow up in this small trailer that the two of you were basically spilling out of, with a father involved in gang stuff, his skin would crawl and he'd begin to feel nauseous.

You agreed that if you did settle down, and eventually ended up having kids, it definitely wouldn't be under these circumstances. You wanted any possible children in the eventual picture to have better lives than both Yoongi and yourself were living in that moment.

And yes, you both knew you could never be the perfect nuclear family with the white picket fence, but it was better than being the washed up family where the father was involved with gangs and the mother who worked two jobs as a waitress.

No child of yours would ever go through that. Not now, not ever.

And so the both of you decided that you’d both try to move out of the trailer by the end of the year. The past months had been filled with searching for apartments within your budget and him trying to get himself a steady job, maybe even two. As of recently he’d been doing some mechanic work, and everything finally seemed like it would work out. You should’ve known it was too good to be true.

The second stitch was tied, and you grimaced as you rubbed at your eyes, which were beginning to strain from your concentration and the nagging desire to cry.

Here he sat now, so drunk he could barely stand on his own, as you patched him up like he was some quilt that you could simply stitch back together and you wouldn’t have to give a second thought to it once you finished.

This was your boyfriend, your Yoongi. He was a person, your person -- just as much as you were his, and despite his many flaws, you’d be willing to do anything for him, like an even more twisted version of the tale of Eros and Psyche, a greek myth you’d read long ago; Psyche, in hopes that she could be reunited with her one true love, had spent sleepless nights and gone through unspeakable dangers completing impossible tasks that could’ve killed her, all in the hopes that she’d get to be with her love again.

Deep down inside, you knew you were the same, no matter how angry you were with him right now, and maybe that was what scared you even a little more than the thought of Yoongi getting himself killed in some confrontation like in the movies, as if he were some kind of Al Capone, or Tony Montana.

The thought of losing him was terrifying. So much so, that whenever he was out you would lie in bed and ask yourself when it would happen. Because you knew that if he kept on doing this it was a matter of when, and not if.

You didn't want to be there when it did happen, eventually.

“Jagiya… Y/N.”

His voice snapped you back to reality, and you realized you'd finished the third and final stitch, but had been sitting there without cutting it as you sunk deeper into your thoughts.

“Are you… okay?” He asked once more, his voice quiet but his words slurred. And you nodded, face blank, because you didn't trust your voice enough to not sound like you were about to cry, out of anger, frustration, sadness.

Letting out a shaky breath, and cut the last stitch. You noticed him flinch slightly as his skin was released from the tug you had on it, and you turned his face to get a better look at your handiwork.

“It should be fine, assuming I did it right.” You sounded grim. “But, this could be a bit harder to keep from opening up… try not to move your face too much in the next week.”

“Does that mean no making out?” He asked quietly, tone still slurred and cocky, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Not the time, Yoongi.” Your tone was cold and you didn't look at him as you answered, focusing on putting away the tools you'd used.

“You're mad at me — don't be like that, baby girl…” He said softly, trying to put his hand on your cheek, and as you felt the bandages glide across your skin, you snapped.

In the height of your anger, you slapped his hand away, and the slightly hopeful look in his eyes seemed to fade.

“Don't touch me, Yoongi,” You snarled, not realizing how you'd raised your voice until you heard the silence that followed your outburst.

You lowered your head in slight embarrassment, shaking your head to avoid meeting his gaze. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, twice,” You told him, still not looking up, “The first time when you woke me up and the second time when I saw your face.”

You rubbed at the back of your neck, trying to undo how stiff it felt, before giving a tired sigh.

“One of these days, you're gonna come home, looking ten times worse than you do right now, and I… Yoongi, I-I’m not gonna be able to fix you up like I normally can. W-what's gonna happen if you break a rib, huh? Get stabbed?” You closed your eyes as you imagined the idea, before your trembling voice dropped to a whisper so quiet he had to strain his ears to listen.

“What's going to happen the day you get shot, Yoongi? What am I gonna do then?”

You stood, exhaling shakily as you come to press your palms against the small kitchen counter, facing away from him, your face burning in shame at your anger and how you sounded more like a worried housewife than you wanted to.

Because you didn't want him to feel like you were worried, even though you were. You wanted your words to sting more than a slap across the cheek could ever sting. You wanted them to cut deeper than the slash across his cheek. you wanted to bleed out your anger and have him choke on it, even if just for a little bit. You wanted him to know you were pissed, and that you had every right to be.

You wanted to exude rage, but here you stood, looking sadder than any Margaret Keane painting ever painted.

“I’m sorry,” You muttered, more to yourself than to him. “I’m angry and you're drunk. I can't… I can't do this to you right now.”

“Talk to me, baby,” He answered a few moments later, as he managed to stand, leaning on the dining table to get a better look at you, “Tell me what you feel, e-even if you think I won't like it.”

“I’ll yell at you when you're sober, Yoongi,” you insisted, scoffing at how cynical you sounded. Pursing your lips, you grabbed a glass from one of the cupboards and filling it with water from the pitcher inside of the refrigerator.

“Drink up,” You said as you placed it in front of him, “It'll help get the alcohol out of your system.”

He nodded, not saying anything else, before grabbing the glass and drinking it all in one go as you put back the pitcher.

“You want any more?” You asked, looking towards the door to the outside, considering your options, and you heard him utter a quick ‘no.’

“Well, let's go to bed, then… Do you think you can walk by yourself?”

He shrugged. “You're the one who doesn't want me to touch you,” He replied quietly, monotonously, tone sounding kind of cold; before letting his pair of wobbly legs and trying not to stumble towards the bedroom. You felt your chest pang with the slightest amount of regret at his response.

You watched him use the wall to hold himself up, before collapsing on the bed, kicking off his sneakers and not bothering to change.

You rubbed at your temples, closing your eyes and scrunching your eyebrows together in frustration. After a few moments, not wanting to waste anymore time, you hastily put away the first aid kit and set the empty glass in the sink.

You trudged towards the bedroom, turning off the main light, the lamp next to your side of the bed remaining the only source of light.

You sat down, not looking at him. Once again, you swallowed the lump in your throat, before letting one tear fall down your cheek, quickly wiping it away before he could see.

As you turned to face him, you opened your mouth to speak.

“Yoongi, I love—”

But he was already fast asleep, lying on his stomach, platinum blond hair framing his bruised face. his pale skin seemed tanner in the soft warm glow of the lamp’s light.

If his face weren't so swollen and bruised, he would've looked like an angel.

You shook your head in anger, turning off the light, ready to go back to sleep as the trailer was engulfed in darkness. Lying down, facing away from him, you found that sleep wouldn't come so easy—the absence of light left you isolated, accompanied by nothing but your thoughts.

What’s going to happen the day you get shot?

The question echoed in your head over and over again, and you began to blink back tears at the thought.

Whatever the answer to your question was, you knew that you didn’t want to know, because you didn’t want to be there when it happened. Because if you were there, you could lose him, and if you were there, with him, you didn’t want to find out just how willing you were to protect him.

You’d given Yoongi an ultimatum: you or his supposed friends.

You lied there for hours, asking yourself whether what happened tonight was Yoongi giving you the answer you were hoping he wouldn’t give.

Because honestly? You didn’t want him to die. You didn’t want to die, either. After everything you'd been through with him, weren't you allowed to be selfish?

The threat of rival gangs wanting retaliation was a rare, but not unheard of, thing in your relationship, but it had never gone further than a few broken windows while the both of you were out, and the one time Yoongi had woken you up and shoved you under the bed and pulled out a gun while he waited in front of the door, but no one was there. The both of you were too shaken up to sleep afterwards.

But that was the worst it had ever been. It had never gone anywhere further or been any worse; as far as the both of you knew, no one dangerous knew you existed in his life. Physically, you were safe. But your relationship was on a thin sheet of ice that went by the name “Yoongi's work”.

You felt as though you were being suffocated by what was going on, as if the smell of alcohol radiating off of him was a plastic bag that was wrapped around your head, Yoongi holding you down and forcing you to take it.

Were you really capable of holding your metaphorical breath that long?

Did you even want to?

If you stayed and Yoongi got hurt you would never forgive yourself. But if you left… you would never know what happened to him.

Somehow, the thought of not knowing whether he was dead or alive seemed comforting. Because if he was dead, you’d simply assume he was still breathing because, well, you didn't know, and had no way of finding out.

You stayed like that until the sun rose, sleepless, caught in a riptide of overthinking and anxiety.

Finally, when the alarm clock blinked 9:00 in the morning, and Yoongi was still sleeping off his drunken stupor, you felt a feeling settle in your chest, and you knew what you had to do.

By ten, you'd already packed a suitcase and changed, ready to leave. But as you stared at the door, a small inkling of doubt bloomed in your chest, and hesitantly, with trembling hands, you set the suitcase down.

In a few quick, quiet strides you were back in the too small bedroom, and your jaw clenched automatically as the desire to cry returned, stronger than ever.

Sitting on the bed, for what felt like the last time, you looked at the still sleeping figure curled up on the mattress.

Suddenly every kiss, every embrace, every laugh, every argument, every morning waking up next to each other, every sleepless night that was spent either yelling at each other or making love to each other began to come back.

Do you really want to give this up? A little voice murmured in the back of your mind as your eyes drifted to the small patch of sunlight streaming through the small window, shining down onto Yoongi’s bare, pale back, are you sure you'll ever find something this good again?

You looked down at him, still sleeping in the exact same position he'd fallen asleep in. The same position you'd seen him in a million times, except this time you were almost sure it was the last time.

I can certainly find something less toxic.

As if on autopilot, as you'd done a million times before, your hand came up to stroke his platinum blond locks. You smiled sadly to yourself, before leaning forward to leave a soft kiss on his forehead, careful not to move too much in an attempt not to wake him up. You didn't want to have that kind of confrontation.

“I love you,” you whispered, “But I can't live like this.”

Standing quickly, you walked to the door again, pulling it open as you picked up the suitcase, and stepped out as your heart seemed to sink into your stomach.

You closed the door as quietly as you could, because if you were too loud, one of two things would happen: either Yoongi would wake up, and you'd find yourself in the situation that you didn't want to be in, or he wouldn't, and the idea of that loud clang of metal seemed too solemn, too final for your aching heart, and you wouldn’t be able to handle it, and stay anyway.

The trailer had always been parked in an open field that was in front of a relatively calm road — a path had been made where you and Yoongi drove and parked his car. The idea of hitchhiking came to mind, as you didn't want to technically steal his car, but before you could decide anything else, a voice from behind made you stop dead in your tracks.

“y/n!”

You didn't turn around, your blood running cold in your veins, your heart beginning to beat as fast as you wanted to run away.

Instead, you waited until he was standing in front of you, still bruised; barefoot and shirtless, looking more heartbroken than anything. You gathered he must've woken up after everything after all, come outside, seen you and the suitcase and put two and two together.

Yoongi was a lot of things, but he definitely wasn't stupid. He didn't need to ask where you were going or what you were doing.

He grabbed your shoulders gently, and you closed your eyes, not wanting to look at his battered face. Your eyebrows furrowed together, and you wished you could dig into your chest with your bare hands and yank out the frustration lying inside.

“Don't do this, jagi…” His voice was quiet, softer than the desperate shout he'd let out moments earlier.

“Look at me, baby girl, please,” He murmured, wiping away tears you hadn't realized had fallen.

“No,” you whimpered, “No, Yoongi, don't do this to me, n-not now…”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you heard him let out a shaky breath, as he gripped your free hand in his and gently tried to pull you back. “C-come on, baby, l-let's go inside—”

“No.”

The contrast between your tone now and the tone you'd used moments before halted him in his tracks, and you felt his grip tighten slightly on hand. He looked down and realized that your hand wasn’t gripping his back.

“I don't…” You opened your eyes, but still a lingering stubbornness inside your chest couldn't get you to meet his eyes.

You sighed in frustration, setting down the suitcase to wipe away more tears that had fallen. “I don't… I can't live like this anymore! Yoongi, I-I can't do it, I don't wanna worry about whether you're gonna come back or not when you go out for a walk, or whatever it was you were doing last night, for fuck’s sake.”

One of his hands reached for your cheeks, and the stubbornness inside made your eyes screw shut once more.

“Jagiya…” He sighed, “...Y/n, please look at me. Listen to me, baby, I’m begging you. Give me five minutes, and…” You heard him groan softly as he tried to form a coherent sentence.

“C-come inside, talk with me for five minutes… I’ll explain everything, and if you still want to leave, I won't stop you.”

The idea was tempting. You wanted so desperately to believe that this could be fixed in some kind of confrontation, but that moment had come months ago; on the night you had realized you weren’t pregnant, and he was still involved in his shady business and you still felt suffocated by the confines of the trailer.

You should've just said no, pushed him off. Walked away and not looked back, ignoring his pleas for you to come back. But, as the last of your resolve softened and melted away, you met his eyes. The swelling had gone down enough for you to see both of them now, and caught how they were misty, as if he were also about to cry. The mid-morning sun shone against them, causing the dark flecks of gold in them to shine.

But did you say no? You didn't. You couldn’t. Not to, him, not to your precious Min Yoongi. It was impossible.

“...Fine,” You responded finally, softly, and you watched as Yoongi’s posture seemed to relaxed, and he flashed a small, hopeful smile, which would've looked so much nicer if his lip wasn't busted in half.

He led you back into the trailer, his grip on your hand tight, as if he were scared that you would break away from him at any given moment. He was right, in a way. Your senses were on alert, red lights beeping as you remembered every single warning you’d gotten against toxic relationships in your life.

Once you’d both entered the trailer, he shut the door and leaned against it, as if trying to stop you from leaving again. Your gut tightened with anxiety at the action, as the possibilities of his body language had you eyeing him nervously. What if you decided to leave and he didn’t want to let you?

“I’m leaving the gang.” Yoongi’s voice was quiet, his eyes gazing at yours. You sighed, shaking your head as you set your suitcase down. “Where have I heard that before?”

He shook his head. “Y/n, I’m serious this time. Let me explain--”

“Sure you are, Yoongi.”

“Y/n…”

“I’m sick of living like this, Yoongi! I don’t wanna spend the rest of my life in this shitty trailer. I feel like i’m suffocating in here.”

“What, you think I’m not?”

“You certainly don’t act like you care enough to do anything about it! You’re the one who went back to them, last night, Yoongi. Not me.”

He paused, blinking. His face scrunched into one of confusion, and you wanted to tell him not to do that out of fear that the stitch on his face would open up. “Wait. Did I tell you why I went out last night?”

You furrowed your eyebrows at his deep voice, thinking back to the disastrous night before. “Uh… no. You didn’t.”

He stared at you for a second, before his eyebrows shot up in realization, gaze solemn. “You think I… Oh, jagi, no.”

“What are you talking about, Yoongi?”

He shot forward, gripping your shoulders, pulling you closer, until you were pressed into his chest.

“I told them I wanted to leave last night.”

A breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding released itself, and you pushed him away slightly, enough to look him in the eyes, but not enough to have him release his grip on you.

“If you’re lying, I’ll cut your dick off, Min Yoongi.”

He smiled softly, his gaze still sad as a hand reaches for your face to brush a stray hair out of the way, before shaking his head. “It’s the truth, I swear. No need to cut anyone’s dick off.”

“Why… Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just… I don’t know. I wasn’t sure if it would work, I didn’t want to get your hopes up, in case it didn’t.” He shook his head, lost in thought.

“You should’ve told me,” You murmured, the close proximity enough for him to hear your quiet voice, “All of this could’ve been avoided, Yoongi.”

You wondered to yourself why he didn’t tell you once he came home, before telling yourself he was too drunk to even stand and speak properly, much less explain what he’d done. Combining that with Yoongi’s temper and your outburst, it was easy to figure out that he’d gotten upset at your reaction.

Your hand reached for his face, your thumb brushing over the skin of his cut. “Who did this to you, then?” Your voice was curious, slightly angry at the thought of one of the members of the gang getting violent at whatever he told them.

He sighed, licking his chapped lips nervously. “Namjoon. He was pissed.” The hand on your back let go as he used it to gesture to the cut on his face, “Told me that if I wanted to leave so bad, I could have this as a parting gift.”

You grimaced at the idea, your imagination going into overdrive to build up a mental image of what he’d just said. “Pissed is an understatement,” You replied, imagining how it must’ve hurt. He scoffed.

“You’re telling me.”

“So you’re done? You’re gone?” The uncertainty in your voice is enough for him to press a kiss to your forehead. “It’s done,” He said, “I’m gone. For you, for us.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, half in relief, half in comfort as he leans to rest his forehead against yours as your mind registered the same four words he’d spoken when he first promised you this.

And as you stand there, in his arms, the reality began to sink in: this was happening.

You might just make it out alive, after all.

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #min yoongi #suga #bts scenarios #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenarios #suga scenarios #bts writing #yoongi angst #bts angst

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