#it chapter two imagine

[fromforeigntofamiliarity]

Hi! May I please request a ficlet in which adult Bill Denbrough and fem!Reader (who was part of the Losers Club) get married and the first thing Bill and Reader remember at the same time while in Derry to defeat Pennywise was when Reader tells Bill (when they’re kids) that she’s gonna marry him someday? (I love fluff.)

Tears and Mint Tins | Bill BenBrough

Bill DenBrough walk through the wood heading towards the club house, hoping to meet up with the rest of his friends. Unfortunately for him when he climbed down into the dirt covered walls of the hideout he was met with a small smile from Y/N L/N.

"Oh hey Billy." She greeted waving her hand in excitement. "Guess it just us here, great minds right?" She asked walking over to him.

Moving to the side Bill made it to the other side of the room avoiding being any closer to the girl. 

"It's Bill, and what do you mean? Where's everyone else?" He asked.

"Well you know Richie and Stan had some church thing to do, and Mike said he had chores all day on the farm, Eddie's mom if being...well Eddie's mom and Ben is probably at the library or something." She informed walking closer to him once again.

"And Bev?" Bill asked noticing the she had left out the red headed girl from her list of information.

"Umm," Y/N said turning to face away from the boy looking around the small room. "I'm not sure about Beverly." She said pulling on her shirt. 

"Oh, well I'm gonna head home." He said awkwardly walking back towards the latter.

"Wait." She called out to him causing him to stop in his tracks." Can't we just hang out together?" She asked looking hopefully to the boy.

"Maybe another time." He muttered as he began climbing up the latter. A loud crash causing his to turn, seeing Y/N sitting in the ground holding her leg. "Are you okay?" He asked jumping from the latter and rushing over to her.

Kneeling down to inspect the seriousness of her injury. All of the sudden Y/N lets go of her leg before grabbing Bill's hand and slipping a silver ring on it. The ring was far to big for his finger as it dangled from his finger. Y/N moved her hand next to his showing him a similar one loosely hanging from hers as well.

"There, We'll be married one day anyways we should start wearing the rings now." She explained with a bright smile." I won them from a coin machine at the arcade." 

Looking up at the girl her smile was met with a glare from the DenBrough boy before he yanks off the ring and throws it across the room."

Shock and hurt flashed across her face as she realizes what he had done, she rushed over in the direction of the objects.

"Why would you do that I thought you were hurt." Bill said watching as she scrabbled around in search of the ring.  

"It was just a joke Billy, I wanted to give the ring to you but you were leaving." She sniffled still looking around.

"It's Bill." He gritted out. "And another thing I don't want your ring, all I want is for you to stop saying you like me, stop following my around all the time, just stop." He ranted watching as she pauses before rushing over and picking up the small silver object. 

"Why?" Y/N asked raising from the ground, tears sliding down her cheeks. "Because you like Beverly? I saw you kiss her." 

Shaking his head Bill scoffed at the girl before once again heading to the exit. "It's not about liking Bev, I just don't like you." He said before climbing up and out of the hideout. 

As he walked away Bill could hear Y/N sobbing as she screamed after him.

"I'm not gonna wait for you forever Bill DenBrough." She screamed. "And then you'll be sorry, cause it will be too late." 

Using her sleeve to wipe her tears away you looked around spotting an empty Altoids tin, picking it up she placed the ring inside. Sliding the ring from her finger she placed it next to his before digging a small hole in the wall and forcing the container inside. Grabbing some dirt she packed it into any left over space around her treasure. 

[<_>]

 Looking up at his wife as she stared at the rings in the old mint tin Bill couldn't help but still feel guilty remembering the sound of her heartbroken sobs. 

"You were right." Bill said causing Y/N to look up at him, Pulling the rings from the box he left it fall from his hand in favor of grabbing hers. "I am very sorry for that day." He said sliding the ring onto her finger just above her wedding ring. 

A smiles spreads across her face as she take the other ring from him before doing the same with the identical ring. "At least I didn't have to wait forever." 

They both let out a small laugh at the memory.

Bill placed his hand on her neck gently pulling her in, placing a kiss on her forehead.

#it 2019 #it imagine #the losers club #bill denbrough x reader #bill denbrough #it chapter two #it chapter two imagine #bill benbrough imagine #masterlist #It masterlist

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later - Joel Miller x F!Reader

Plot: It’s been twenty years since Joel and Y/n parted ways with a farewell so crushing, they were sure it would last forever. Now, fate brings them back together in the form of a 14-year old named Ellie and forces them to set aside their past in order to secure the future.

Warnings: M for violence, gore, language, implied smut, and adult themes (16+)

————

Chapter One: Reunited

Chapter Two: Strangers In The Night

Chapter Three: Out On The Town

Chapter Four: Luck

Chapter Five: Soundtrack of Life

Chapter Six: Road Trip

Chapter Seven: Hands

Chapter Eight: Someone’s Something

Chapter Nine: Dry Your Tears

Chapter Ten: September 26th, 2003

Chapter Eleven: Almost

Chapter Twelve: As We Were, As We Are

Chapter Thirteen: Carry You Home

Chapter Fourteen: Violent Innocence

Chapter Fifteen: Room for Three

Chapter Sixteen: The Great Sin

Chapter Seventeen: Twenty Years Later

Post-S1

One Shot #1: The Little Things

One Shot #2: Symptoms of Survival

One Shot #3: Talking to the Sky

One Shot #4: The Artist Formerly Known As Joel Miller

——————

playlists

creations: moodboard by @nairafeather

Q + As + Headcanons:

Rosebud’s Age

Alternate Scenes

Alternate Ending (no Cordyceps)

Alternate Breakup (concept)

Joel and Rosebud + pregnant in Jackson (AU)

Joel and Rosebud + single mom (AU)

Joel and Rosebud + fights

Joel and Rosebud + cheating

Joel and Rosebud + meeting after Outbreak

Joel and Rosebud + pregnancy

Joel and Rosebud + baby names

Joel and Rosebud + accidentally injuring one another

Rosebud + leaving Joel post-Outbreak

Rosebud + joining the Fireflies

Rosebud + dating before Joel/meeting Joel pre-Austin

Rosebud + Taylor Swift songs

Joel and Rosebud + folklore

Joel and Rosebud + music

What if…Tommy and Rosebud?

Joel and Rosebud + multi-fandom ships

Rosebud + fancast

Harry Potter houses

#chapter two tomorrow so get hyped #also comment if you’d like to be tagged #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #twenty years later

[fangirl-dot-com]

Certified Lovers

what is this?? two posts in a day?? how crazy, sorry this is short

I'm also sorry I'm late for valentines day - I was too busy crying from being alone but I wanted to do at least a little something

be warned: horny kids on the main and twitter blows up

happy (belated) valentines day guys! love you all

y/n.jpg has posted

y/n.jpg so it's not gonna be easy, it's gonna be really hard. and we're gonna have to work at this every day, but I want to do that because I want you, forever. you and me, everyday

liked by maxverstappen1, y/n.nation, box_box_express, and 109,204 others

y/n.nation this just called me single in multiple different languages

rookies_secretbf everyday

boxbox_nightmare SUSPICIOUS???? y/n&co this CANNOT BE THE BF'S BURNER ACCOUNT??

charles_leclerc when did he get that shirt?

y/n.89 I bought it for him btw maxverstappen1 why? y/n.89 cause it's cute (I also got ones for Alex and Kelly too)

y/n_on_top oh my gosh the beach picture??

rookie_lover THE NOTEBOOK QUOTE - I'M CRYING

thurthur_leclerc why do I kinda feel bad for Arthur :/

y/nxarthur CAUSE THEY WERE END GAME AND THIS MF TRYNNA BREAK THEM UP f1fan chilllll they were never together in the first place - besides I don't think that he even has a girlfriend

arthur_leclerc has posted

arthur_leclerc you have bewitched me, body and soul...and I love you. I never wish to be parted from you, from this day on

liked by f1fan, logansargeant, oscarpiastri, babyleclerc, and 230,204 others

f1fan I may have spoke too soon

babyleclerc ARE YOU KIDDING ME????? THE PICTURES?? THE AESTHETIC??? THE HAND PLACEMENTS????

fan_all_around THE PRIDE AND PREJUDICE QUOTE?? HELLO??

maxverstappen1 glad you took her out. I know you can't cook

arthur_leclerc show some love please? it is valentines day after all?? maxverstappen1 no.

leclerc_bros sheeeshhhh no need to be horny on the main - no one is gonna take her

his_love all yours

box_box_express SUSPICIOUS

f1 happy valentines day!

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri

#f1 x driver!reader #f1 imagine #platonic grid x reader #f1 x reader #arthur leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #formula 1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #valentines day #extra chapter #arthur leclerc fanfic #arthur leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc fluff #arthur leclerc #charles leclerc #max verstappen #two chapters in a day?? #who am I??

[delicrieux]

—𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭, ch.1: things of present and future importance

pairing—carmy berzatto x f!reader genre—drama, romance, age gap, boss/employee relationship warnings for this chapter—trauma, anxiety, swearing, and sum depression as dessert word count—2k

uh-oh, carmen is losing it again, this time in front of his new employee, too. 

author’s note: give me this wet dog of a man and give him to me NOWWWWWWWW

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | read on ao3 . next >

important! some of the dialogue scenes are written as a script & dialogues that overlap are marked in [] <3

there’s a lot of things wrong with this situation, but carmen does not have it in him to care. maybe he never will, and that’s okay, because it’s his fucking restaurant and he knows he could be kinder, could be gentler, could, maybe, keep all of those splinters in his gut from hurting too bad if he took a few deep breaths just how they say in therapy. deep breaths, slow breaths, and then they look at you like you’re a toddler having a meltdown in the middle of the street and suddenly, suddenly, it’s all go fuck yourself and the door slamming shut.

carmen’s an abandoned puppy – disheveled hair and round eyes that have been unloved (by him, most of all), with his head bent and shoulders tense, not sure whether to flee or attack, but offense is the best defense and just like a bad dog he bites when frightened. it’s all teeth and anger and desperation; jaws lock and teeth sink and he doesn’t let go because he’s starving, even if what he’s fighting for is nothing but a cadaver of a place, space, body – brother? no, don’t think of mikey. he’s starving, has been for ages – approval? don’t say that – and that hunger bubbles to the surface when confronted by a minuscule imperfection, like sauce on the stove left to simmer for too long.

it’s a bad first impression, second impression, third, what the fuck, he’s good at food and not very good at math, unless math comes to food and then, maybe, he can sort it out. still bad, still fucking terrible, to be honest, and somewhere in the frying tangles of his mind he knows that yelling doesn’t help, and that yelling in front of the new hire doesn’t bode well for retention. the last enzymes of his sanity warn him – calm down, just, just calm down, carmen, you’re making it worse, you’re making it fucking worse – but the to-go machine keeps beeping, and the kitchen is too hot, and his staff is too anxious, and everything is amplified tenfold by his brother’s looming shadow that exists to him only. don’t think of mikey.

“can someone please turn that fucking thing off?” it’s his voice, laced by such scorn and a barely contained anger that makes him tremble by the pans. he’s losing his mind. sweat collects on his temple and his eyes sting from the fumes billowing onto his face, “sydney!”

“yes, chef.”

sydney’s a trooper, doesn’t bend under pressure like steel, and he sees her maneuvering in his peripherals, quick and agile to not get into anyone’s way, least of all his. briefly, he thinks about burning this place down. he blinks. the beeping stops – she ripped the cord out of the socked, dropped it onto the floor that sent an echo.

the new hire watches this shitshow unfold by her station, eyes wide and weary, ears perked for orders. her hands move – strong hands, swift hands, long fingers and rough palms that cradle a knife the way a mother would cradle a child. she doesn’t look at what she cuts, but she chops and slices and it’s all automatic – trained response? – and if carmen were to take a ruler and inspect the pieces, he’d be impressed to find that most are even and none are crooked. he’d hum, then, skim through the folders of his mind to re-check her experience, re-check the college she went to. he’d say something like, “good work, chef,” and maybe she’d smile at the bare bones of the compliment he’d given her, and when he’d be alone in his dingy office he’d pull out her resume and examine it with more interest because he’d be too embarrassed to ask.

he’ll grow familiar with those hands, with the dips and curves of knuckles and the tiger stripes of scars running down their expanse; he’ll grow familiar with the touch, too, soft despite the callouses, but only to him. not yet, though, not for another few months till a completely expected storm will halt the trains and he’ll have to drive her home. it’ll be weeks after that awkward silence in the car and stolen glances at soaked t-shirt-clad skin.

her form is unfamiliar to him – he hadn’t any interest to look, nor would he find anything curious when all is covered in oversized fabric and a blue apron. at present, she’s his colleague, nothing more, and a young one at that, too young and too talented to be stuck in such a place and with him running it.

but he will look. sooner than expected, and not for any devout reason, unless loneliness can be considered holy.

he’ll feel bad about it, too, and he’ll feel worse when everything escalates, because it always does.

for now, he cooks by the open flame, letting hot oil sizzle on his hands and the fire lick his fingers, and maybe, just maybe, he likes the pain because he knows nothing else. it’s become empirical to him. an indication that he’s still alive. that he’s still in control of something, even if he isn’t.

richie, richie, good fucking god, richie always picks the worst moments to bitch about.

“are you fucking with me?” carmen’s voice, again, a bit higher this time and just a gruff. doe eyes narrow at the bell-tower named richard jerimovich that has the audacity to look clueless, “do not fucking fuck with me right now.”

richie: shove that stick outta [fuck you] your ass, cousin carmen: are you deaf? richie: boutta go deaf if you keep yapping [don’t got time for this]; listen, i just [you just?] came to talk [talk? now? talk?] yes, to talk, look carmen: now you wanna talk? now? you wanna [jesus] fucking talk right now?

the tension in the air is sharp enough to slice through skin. everyone pointedly pretends not to hear this conversation. carmen doesn’t want to hear this conversation, either. there’s a line of people waiting. he reminds richie of that, and richie reminds that oh, he knows, and –

“richie!” it’s sydney, cheeks glowing with sweat and bandana crooked, “not now.”

richie huffs, looks at carmen with a certain exasperation, a wordless question of ‘really? really? you’re letting her run the show, now?’, and carmen needn’t be a genius to know that richie’s gonna bring this up later. he’ll never hear the end of it, he scarcely does now. it’s a headache in the making. his heart skips, or maybe stops, and for a moment he feels white-hot panic shoot through his veins. it passes with a shiver he doesn’t show. he breathes just a tad quicker – not enough air, not enough fucking air, jesus.

richie retreats with his arms raised in surrender, amused and annoyed simultaneously. a quiet follows his departure, and carmen looks at the staff, gaze jumping from one to the other before settling on her. she’s unperturbed by the chaos, working, watching, assessing, and later he’ll learn she wears that face the same way he wears his anger – as armor.

eyes meet and there’s a certain understanding that glimmers in the depths of her iris. but what could she understand? three weeks from now, he’ll come to learn that she’s used to rough edges and loud voices: he’ll learn that she’s the daughter of the chef that made his life hell back in new york, he’ll learn that she took up cooking because she wanted to appease her father, he’ll learn that her parents have split and her mother is sick and that she’s not calm but disconnected and that she tends to live in her head just like him.

but he doesn’t know that now, so he blames the shitty lighting that blinks and buzzes and, “fak, for the love of fucking god, please fix it.”

he said please this time, and it means he’s cooling off. he thankfully misses the quick look the staff shares – a mixture of relief and pity. either would have been devastating to recognize.

the only upside is that the day goes by fast. too much to do, too much to stress about, and carmen’s used to running on nothing but nicotine and adrenaline and an odd spout of desolation, and he manages everything, keeps the pieces glued together until eventually everything becomes too much and then he crumbles. still picks them up gently, like handling broken glass. he visits the storage often. closes the door for a moment and just lets himself breathe, reminds himself how to. doesn’t calm, only collects, reigns in the anger that coats loneliness. don’t think about mikey.

the staff cleans in a similar silence that douses after a storm.

the night's clear, crisp air compounded with cigarette smoke. he leans on the wall of the restaurant, staring into space, listening to the white noise of a restless city. by now, sydney has flipped the CLOSED sign; by now, his new hire is probably thinking about quitting, elbows deep in cleaning detergent as she scrubs the floor. he’ll have to go over her work and double-check. just in case there’s something more to do for hands that are always restless.

he tries to think but his head is scrambled. too many thoughts rushing in and out, loud, obnoxious, too quick to leave a lasting impact. he’s tired. he’s always tired. he wants lay on his bed and let sleep swallow him whole, but he knows that won’t happen. if he sleeps, he dreams of new york, he dreams of fire, he dreams of voices coming from the other room. one, in particular, holds a familiar rasp and drawl, punctuated by laugher, weaving a tale and stop it, don’t think about it anymore, just stop it, don’t think about –

he tosses the cigarette, watching the embers burn.

don’t think about mikey.

he enters through the back exit, stalks through the restaurant like he's haunting the place. briefly stops to stare at the mirror behind the bar. doesn't really recognize the man staring back.

the clock reads 00:30 am.

marcus was the last to leave, or so carmen assumed by the silence that shrouds the place, but as he makes his way to his office, he hears a locker shutting, and the sound rattles him so much his heart beats in his throat. all of that previous exhaustion ignites into anxiety that makes his limbs lock up.

she halts by the mouth of the kitchen, hair matted from sweat and lower lip marked where her teeth sunk, drooped eyes widening a fraction as she regards him. he can only stare at her in return, at her messy hair and pinched eyebrows and the slight downward curl of her lips.

“you could use a coffee,” she utters, and her voice is jarring – not for any unpleasant reason, but for the fact that he didn’t expect to hear it. he’ll grow to like it, crave it, even, because it’s a lovely cadence and it’ll sound even lovelier when she says his name.

he’s frightened by it now, if one can be scared of such a thing. so he bites.

“it’s almost 1 am.”

“right,” she mutters dryly.

“why are you still here?” he questions, and it almost sounds like an accusation, because he thought he was alone, only to suddenly be proved wrong. feels like an invasion of privacy, to be fucking honest, “your shift ended like an hour ago.”

“oh, I, uh, had some things to finish, so…” she trails off, but she still looks at him, and it’s unnerving, really, how she doesn’t budge under the weight of his stare. he bends under hers, though; the floor is spotless, he has nothing left to do. he misses the visible tension in her face, misses the quick swipe of her tongue on her lower lip as she opens and closes her mouth. it’ll take two whole weeks to grow entranced by the sight. misses the polite smile, too, but hears it in her voice anyway, “night.”

her sneakers squeak and echo and the door shuts. silence settles heavy on his shoulders. he’s not sure if he’s more distraught by her sudden appearance or abrupt departure. both somehow feel bad. in less than half a year, he’ll come to realize that the latter is worse.

ch.2: thank you, love you

#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #the bear imagine #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader #give him a moment he jacks off in chapter two #hes so pathetic i love him

[zec-draws]

Where is my friend Smiley?

#I love these two #imagine if I made these into stickers or keychains #who knows maybe #poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #smiling critters #catnap #dogday #art #fanart

[invisiblestringmm]

chapter two

cut open my heart, right at the scar

chapter index

author: thank you for staying. feedback will be greatly appreciated!

warnings: soft smut, alcohol mention, drinking, anxiety mention.

word count: 2.571k

Some people call it faith, a few others call it manifestation. It could be a mix of both — after all, what could be more powerful than an innocent child wishing for something every night as if her life hangs on it?

You didn’t know if the stars and the whole cosmos were aligned precisely to make your daughter happy, but you felt wretched knowing that her happiness meant some tough times ahead for you; all this time, she never had what she wanted the most because you’ve been keeping it from her. 

For a good motive, though.

Knowing you so well, practically as if you shared the same brain, it didn’t take much for Willow to discover what was wrong when she was determined to investigate a little. It began when you called up the office to inform them you’d be working from home due to a sudden heavy cold, then Willow found out that Lily was staying at your parent’s for the next two days; usually, the time she stayed when something was up and you needed time isolated. Then, you ignored her text messages, and also her calls when she decided to insist a bit more, knowing you’d shut off from everyone.

But you couldn’t ignore the banging on your front door.

Willow groaned when she found you still in your pyjamas, dark circles around your usually sparkly eyes, and your hair up in a messy bun. She had her brows furrowed and a large paper bag from your favourite bakery in her hand, you sighed knowing what was probably in it and how much you needed it along with a bottle of red wine - once you were done with work.

“I’ve stalked a little,” she confessed, stepping into your flat once you opened the door a bit more, giving her space. “What are the odds?”

“There aren’t any, it’s called karma and I fully accept my punishment,” you went straight to the point as you threw yourself on the sofa after grabbing the paper bag from Willow’s hands; the freshly baked chocolate muffins and croissants inside relieved your nerves only for a second.

“Don’t say that, Y/n. We both know you had your reasons,” she rubbed your back, making an effort to reassure you the minute she noticed your eyes glistening with tears. Willow had been there through it all, from the night you met Mason. 

FOUR YEARS AGO

The loud music and the bright lights were annoying, to say the least. Still, you were in such a great mood that you couldn’t stop your hips from perfectly moving right and left, to the sound of every beat, and you were having fun. It was Willow’s birthday and, as a sucker for birthdays, your mission was to have the greatest time and make sure your group of friends had a blast too. In your little world, you poured champagne into your best friend’s mouth and allowed her to pour it into yours too, but you knew Willow’s reflexes weren’t the best when sober so why would they be when she was already wasted?

“Fuuuuck!” The black slipper dress was glued to your body, but you couldn’t hold a loud laugh as Willow followed you. “Fuck, fuck! Whatever, fuck! Let’s go get another drink.” 

The thin line between carefree and careless was already there, even more so when you were bold enough to ask for tequila, after shamelessly flirting with the bartender and a few other guys around, and returned to your booth with one bottle in each hand, knowing the group would want some shots. Almost stumbling on the last step that gave you access to the booth, sitting on the burgundy leather sofa, you frowned when a towel was given to you. Looking up, you found that cute guy who you’d been staring at, holding it for you and that big smile that made the corner of his eyes wrinkle flashing at you. 

“I thought you might need this, Miss Champagne.”

“How thoughtful of you to help me with my champagne problems…?”

“Mason.” He winked and your heart skipped a beat. How pathetic, swooning for a guy you just met. At a club, and completely drunk.

Mason was a cute name, but right now you could only think of how it’d sound if he made you moan it. You didn’t know, but he thought about that multiple times since you walked into the booth next to the one he shared with his friends and watched you, he thought of how those hips would move on top of his instead of moving to the beat of each song that filled the place. He thought how badly he wanted to just hold it and make you help move them for him. You were fun, your energy matched his and he was looking for an escape. And, on top of that, you were breathtakingly gorgeous and couldn’t care less for who he was when he told you, and you stated that the only athletes you cared about were swimmers-Italians, to be more specific.

As the night went on and Willow was now forming a line of boys to kiss - twenty, to match her age - you wanted to go and stop her but you knew you wouldn’t be able. Instead, you switched the first guy for one of Mason’s friends and begged him to kiss your friend so good she wouldn’t want any other. Declan was on for the mission and they disappeared together after the kiss. 

You danced together, shared a few more shots of tequila and when Mason asked if you wanted to go to his place, there was no point playing difficult, you both wanted the same thing: fuck each other senseless. He got you all naked before you could even reach the stairs.

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Masey.” You pouted, making him giggle at the nickname. Mentally, he was already fucking you and you could tell that by the way he looked at you. “And you’re perfect just like that, I don’t want you wearing nothing but the adorable flush on your cheeks while you’re here or I might have to punish you.” 

“Hm? I think I’ll put my clothes back on, then.” On your tiptoes, you reached for his lips and brushed them with yours, his warm minted breath making you close your eyes and let out a low and hoarse moan that only worked as an incentive for Mason to grab your thighs and carry you into the living room, straight to his large dark sofa. “Too many clothes, Mason.”

He nodded and quickly got rid of the navy blue Nike hoodie and the basic white shirt at once, leaving his bare chest exposed. Your mouth watered as your eyes wandered through his body, noticing how beautifully sculpted it was, all in the right places. But what caught your attention, innocently for the first time of the night, was the bulge under his faded blue jeans. You gulped.

“Like what you see?” Mason grinned and you quickly nodded, reaching out to unbutton his jeans. He softly slapped your hand. “Why so eager, baby?” The pet name made you moan, along with the tip of his fingers touching your nipples, then between your boobs and making the dangerous way to your lower stomach. 

“Mason…” You felt your pussy clench around nothing and he gave you another grin as he made himself comfortable on the sofa and you watched his head disappear between your legs.

You felt his breath against your pussy, making your eyes roll and your back arch. “Such a beautiful pussy, I bet it tastes so good.” Mason pressed his lips against your inner thigh as his fingers now played with your juices, teasing you, making your whole body shiver and crave his touch. It felt like you were about to lose your fucking mind when he circled your clit with his thumb and his warm tongue played with your folds. Mason’s moans while eating your pussy were heavenly, he knew what he was doing and enjoyed it, but you craved for more. 

“Mason, please,” You whimpered and your eyes met. Those big, brown eyes met yours and he lifted his hea, the sight of his lips wet from your juices making you bite your lower lip as hard as you could.

“Say it.”

“I need your cock inside me, now. I need you to fuck me.”

And he did, each thrust harder and deeper than the previous as Mason devoured you. Your sweat mixed with his, your moans, and the way he fucked you was something else. When his thrusts started to become sloppy and his breathing heavier, Mason quickly flipped you so you could ride him and your only goal was to make that man cum so hard he’d forget his name. 

“You take me so well, Y/n. Such a good girl.” You felt your pussy clench around him when he praised you. Leaning your body forward, you held his jaw with your hand and let it slowly slip to his throat. Mason just nodded and you grinned, finally squeezing it softly, making him moan louder. 

“You gonna cum for me, Mason?” He nodded again, holding your hips steady as he now moved his hips up again at his own clumsy pace. “Then look at me when you do it and while I cum all over your cock.”

He repeatedly moaned your name, his grunts only encouraging you to squeeze his throat a bit harder, letting it go when a final loud grunt parted his lips and he came, followed by you, with your body finally crashing onto his.

“That was fucking great.” Mason giggled and you nodded in return, giggling too as you rolled to the side. 

“For drunk sex, it was.” Looking down at his body once again, to appreciate the view next to you, you instantly frowned when you noticed his uncovered and still-hard cock. “Mason, I thought you were wearing a condom?”

PRESENT DAY

The streetlights softly brightened your living room in the most soothing yet nearly depressing way; Willow was gone for a few hours, leaving you and your memories to yourself. During the day, you didn’t talk much about your current situation and what you’d do - if you’d do anything or just let things happen, and go with the flow, but still with some sort of control over the whole thing. Your thoughts were everywhere but also focused on two people: Lily and Mason. You knew that, eventually, you’d find yourself in this situation - it was painful, it made it hard to even breathe, and you never really prepared for it because deep down you spent four years hoping it would take lots and lots of years for Mason to be in your life again, as unfair as it was to Lily. And being unfair to your own daughter was, by far, the most disgusting thing you could do in life. She brought you nothing but love and joy. 

Willow would often say that before being a mum, you were a human being. A woman who had been hurt by a man, and then you had to raise this man’s child. But you knew you couldn’t use this excuse anymore, it was time to face the consequences of keeping Lily hidden from her father and his family, and above all, stop punishing your daughter for your poor choices in life.

Your phone buzzed with a text from Jaz asking if the plans you had for Saturday were still up, and you apologised saying that you had the flu, but that Lily was more than allowed to go and you’d talk to your mum to arrange everything. After another lie to protect yourself, since there was no flu, you thought that maybe opening a bottle of white wine would help you through what it would be a long night awake, alone with your own thoughts and desperate attempts to minimise all the collateral damage that would find its way into your life once you revealed the truth. First to your daughter, then you’d have to hunt Mason Mount again.

His reaction was what frightened you the most. What would he do? What would he say?

Would he take Lily from you?

Would he hate Lily and reject her?

Every question that crossed your mind blurred your sight, made your heart clench and felt like a stab right through your heart. 

You would never let him take Lily from you, but the thought of him rejecting her was just as painful, because that little girl was something else and she deserved the whole world. She deserved a daddy that would be entirely devoted to her, just like yours had been since the day you were born.

Already feeling your body welcoming the familiar floating sensation caused by the wine, you allowed yourself to stalk Mason a little - something you hadn’t done in the longest time. It didn’t surprise you that he still looked pretty much the same. Everytime you caught his face on TV, you avoided looking too much because it hurt and bothered you deeply, but now, scrolling through his pictures you noticed that his smile was still the same and the wrinkles around his eyes was something Lily had inherited. The soft redness on his nose too. Lily had a lot of him, even if you knew so little about Mason, despite sharing a life with him.

The Instagram “message” button burned under your finger, but you went back to scrolling through his pictures, because what exactly would you say? 

“Hi, remember me? That day I went to your house and you shoved me off, I was going to tell you I was carrying your child so I’ve decided to hide her from you for a period of four years”.

Gosh, what a fucked up situation you were in. Besides, what was the chance he’d actually reply?

Liking one of his pictures was subtle, he wouldn’t notice. One like amongst the millions he was getting post World Cup. You’d let the universe decide if things should run its natural course or you’d have to put yourself in a situation you’ve lived before: ringing his doorbell and telling him the biggest news of his life, but four years later, and pray for the best outcome there could be of this situation. You wondered what your family would say, what his family would say, how everyone would treat you after but you couldn’t expect much. You were hiding a child from her own right to have both sides of her family whilst growing up, despite your personal reasons. 

What would the media say, if it ever came to that? 

“Heavens, I think I’m gonna vomit…” You mumbled, the combination of alcohol and thoughts of your daughter’s precious face in the media, on gossip websites, made some tears fall freely down your cheeks. You still forced a large gulp of wine, to ease the anxiety that was creeping in. Half of the bottle was gone.

You fucked up, greatly and badly.

With tears still wetting your cheeks, looking absolutely pathetic, you frowned at the notification that popped on your screen. 

Mason Mount was officially back into your life.

In fact, he never really left. You had the most special part of him with you, and you could only hope he’d see it the exact same way.

#mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagine #mason mount fluff #mason mount x reader #mason mount series #invisible string mm | chapter two

[delizbin]

Personal take but totally inspired by the ff Fine Line by the amazing @firstdragonlady

#this is not canon but my mind kept running so… yeah #when I say I’m obsessed with some fanfic I’m not kidding #like… I fully fantasize about what’s happening next it’s insane #i just love it so so so much I hope it’s fine if I took a personal interpretation #fine line #whatever #they’re cool #hayffie fanart #hayffie #haymitch x effie #high school au #and it’s only 7/75 chapters in. I’m already at this point NOW . I can not imagine when we’ll reach around 35 what will happen #I’ll make a whole damn movie about it idk #why is he without tshirt? idk I wanted to draw him half naked that’s it don’t assume anything #just to flex the stomack scar I guess #yeah I just need these two to kiss already but I also love the slow burn so #my mind just has to fill in the gaps you know #why so many tags today idk #i have a lot of things to say i guess #or I just like to talk randomly #i don’t even have a proper caption I just want to screem on a wall

[fujii-draws]

OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.

#okay starting from the beginning of where ppl usually dislike him. apple woods chapter. #he doesn’t give hero/partner the CHANCE to explain themselves despite them being relatively good recruits up until that point. #and that legit might be my only gripe with that chapter bc!!! stories need conflict! I LIKE the conflict in apple woods!!! #hero and partner being punished so something they didn’t do! #the misunderstanding! how team skull (Skuntank) actually outplays the main duo with a clever yet rotten trick. I LOVE that it segways into- #one of the more sweeter scenes of guild members looking out for eachother. I LIKE APPLE WOODS CONFLICT. #but chatot just. not giving them a chance. is so dumb. #I’d personally fix this by having a lil montage of hero/partner fucking up on jobs. A LOT. and chatot giving them a pass every time. #and let the perfect apple incident BE the one where he puts his foot down and doesn’t listen to them. bc he’d given them loads of chances. #and doesn’t want to hear any excuse. #but yeah. I legit dont mind him during that chapter except for that really stupid and frustrating moment. #NOW. CHAPTER 17. #UGGGGHHH WHERE DO I BEGIN #Him not believing hero and Partner about Grovyle and the future being in ruin? FINE. ACTUALLY GOOD. BC CHATOT WOULD BE SKEPTIC. #IT FITS HIS CHARACTER!! #BUT WHAT DOES SUCK. IS HIM GOING ‘Dusknoir isn’t the bad guy. he didn’t do anything wrong’ #WHEN HE LITERALLY KIDNAPPED HERO AND PARTNER RIGHT I N F R O N T OF HIM. #(​NO LITERALLY. HIS CHARACTER IS IN THE FRONT ROW WHEN IT HAPPENED.) #and him. having the GALL to tell hero and partner they must’ve been ‘seeing things’ and downplaying the HELL they went through. #despite them being missing for hours/days. his own guild recruits. and his angry sprite showing up. #like. I think that’s when I genuinely despised him. #that and him going ‘OH I BELIEVED YOU THE WHOLE TIME HEEHOO :)’ shit was so fucking annoying. #just playing it off as a joke the second the guild started to believe hero and partner. #IMAGINE IF HE W A S ACTUALLY TESTING THE GUILD’S TRUST. SHOWCASING HIM AS THE MORE RESPONSIBLE AND RESPECTFUL RIGHT HAND OF THE GUILD. #and yes. Brine cave he saves hero and partner. but at that point I just didn’t care anymore. #he fucked those two over so much. that I didn’t care what ‘valiant’ sacrifice he had. #and he grills Team Skull for what they did OFF SCREEN. they couldn’t even give us THAT. #<<< THAT or him outright saying sorry would’ve been nice. IKIK his ‘actions’ or whatever but. #eughh again this is all imo. I’m not trying to make people hate him or change their mind. #I’ll get into positives in the second post cause I’m running out of tags

[ifangirlalot]

hiii, i just wanted to mention that i love your writing and if you could please write a finn smut with she/her pronouns? y/n and him could be actors and are working on stranger things together and they get hot and heavy in her trailer 20 minutes before shooting their scene, so someone knocks on the door and is asking if y/n's in there but finn doesn't stop ykyk doing his thing and so she's struggling to answer and this is such a long request im so sorry 😭😭😭

˗ˏˋ 𝐇𝐎𝐓, 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 ˎˊ˗ | starring finn wolfhard

FINALLY AN ACTUAL PLOT TO WORK WITH! I love getting requests, but most of the time you guys just ask for smut/fluff with a character and don't give me any ideas as to what to include, so it takes me forever to actually write- But thank you Nonnie for your (thankfully specific) request!

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

~*smut!*~ [𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘:] p in v, dirty talk, kind of public sex, exhibitation (if you squint), clit rubbing, basically porn w/o plot bc this is literally just smut the whole way through

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

[Finn's POV]

With the scene finished, I immediately grabbed [Name] by the collar of her shirt and yanked her into my trailer with me. I've been pent up all morning from her little tease fest during hair and makeup. She thought she was so fucking slick, sliding her skirt up to show more of her smooth thighs, letting her shirt skid off her shoulder to show some more skin. Well now she was going to show me every bit of skin on her body. Since she so clearly wanted to anyways.

"Finn! Jesus, what is your problem, we're shooting again in twe-" I cut off her words with my mouth as I gathered her wrists into my hands and held them against the door of my trailer, my other hand holding her hip firmly in place. I was hardly ever this forward and blunt, but sexual frustration was enough to make any man crumble into a heap of desperation and desire.

[Name] stopped mid-sentence, her words dissolving into a quiet groan as her lips parted against mine. Her hands twitched in my grip, but I didn't let them go. My lips hurried to her throat in a frenzy as my hand slid off her hip and gathered her hair into a ponytail in my fist so I could kiss her neck without her hair trying to strangle me. I tugged the makeshift ponytail and flicked my tongue over her soft skin, so tempted to make a hickey, but still having at least a shred enough of common sense to know that it probably wasn't a good idea to leave one now… at least, not on her neck.

After sucking a few small red marks that would disappear completely within a few minutes, I slid both of my hands to her waist and picked her up. Turns out being horny made me a little stronger than I was usually.. I slammed her body down on the bed and crawled over her, pinning her body down with mine.

"Jesus Finn, what has gotten into you today?" [Name] panted quietly, tilting her head back while my mouth continued its exploration of her neck.

"Like you don't know." I shot back, gently placing my hand on her neck and pulling her head closer. "You teased me this morning and I haven't forgotten. I'm horny [Name]. And you're gonna fix this issue for me." Before she replied, I moved my hands to the hem of her shirt and pulled it off her body, tossing it away into a faraway corner; it crumpled to the floor, forgotten for the moment. I felt around on her back until I found the clasp for her bra. I struggled for a moment, trying to get it free, but when I couldn't, I groaned in irritation and flipped her body over roughly. My hormones were running rampid in my body, I couldn't wait for much longer, and it felt like [Name]'s bra was purposefully trying to ruin it for me.

I finally got the damn thing unhooked and shot it away quickly, letting my hands wander over her breasts, my fingers rubbing her nipples. I moaned quietly under my breath as I moved my head down and let my tongue flick her nipples into my mouth. Her tit felt so good in my mouth, so full, so perfect, so soft.

[Name] moaned quietly, her body arching up in my hands as her her hands wandered into my mouth. She was down to her panties now and I was absolutely loving it. This morning, I woke up planning to wake up and go to work just like every other day, but now I was in [Name]'s trailer with her tit in my mouth and my hand down her panties rubbing circles into her swollen clit while she moaned helplessly under me. Life was fucking great.

I couldn't wait anymore. I needed her now. My cock was throbbing so hard and painfully against my jeans that I felt like it might actually explode if I didn't shove it into her tight, pink pussy right fucking now. I pulled my fingers out of her underwear and lapped up her sticky juices from my fingertips, my eyes meeting hers as she watched me, her eyebrows crinkled up in arousal and her chest heaving from my tease. She moaned and tilted her head back, hips pushing forward into mine.

I grabbed her lush hips in my hands and shoved them into the mattress, keeping her body pinned down as I used one hand to unhook my belt and yank my dick out. I tugged a condom packet out of my back pocket and ripped the foil wrapper with my teeth.

Oh yeah. I came prepared to fuck her dumb with my cock.

I rolled the condom onto my cock and moved down slowly, taking the elastic band of her panties between my teeth and moving them down slowly, my tongue darting out to kiss her wherever it could reach- her thighs, her hips, even the entrance of her pussy, as my teeth slowly moved her underwear down her perfect legs and around her ankles.

[Name] kicked them off and wrapped her arms around my back as I pushed myself between her legs, holding her thighs in place on my waist as I eased my dick into her, inch by inch. I pulled a hiss of pleasure between my teeth, slowly exhaling as her warm core welcomed me in. "Sssss.. ahh.. Fuck, good girl, that's it.."

A cracked moan left my lips as I thrusted my hips into her. I could hear the fap of my cock penetrating her wet hole over and over as she moaned loudly beneath me, shouting my name over and over. For the first time in a while, I felt confident.

"Oh god Finn, yes, yes! Oh god yes, fuck, fuck. fuuuuck!" [Name] moaned, spreading her legs wider, her mouth open wide in pleasure as her eyes rolled back in euphoric pleasure. I pummelled my hips forward again and again, my hand grabbing at the headboard to keep it from smashing against the wall again and again. There wasn't much I could do about the mattress and bedframe creaking underneath us as I fucked her, though.

A knock at the door. "[Name]?" a producer said, knocking once more. "Hey, you're up in about five minutes and you haven't gotten your hair fixed up yet."

[Name]'s eyes went wide with alarm as she looked at me. Oh, was she expecting me to stop? Right now? She was fucking insane, if she was. No fucking way was I stopping now.

I smirked mischieviously and pulled her hips taunt against mine, ravishing her body faster and harder. She was drooling now, cock-drunk from my blatant usage of her body.

Try talking now, I challenged her silently. Do it. I dare you.

"I-I.. nghhhh. I-I, fuck I'm s-sssss…." [Name]'s apology died on her tongue as I slammed my hips into her harder than before and she bit her lip hard to keep from making a noise.

"That's it, good girl, keep quiet. Don't make it obvious what's happening here." I taunted in her ear as I continued to fuck her forcefully. I could feel a knot forming in my stomach, threatening to unravel completely in the next few minutes.

The producer knocked again. "[Name]? Hello? What's going on in there, are you okay?"

Her eyes begged me for mercy, but I just smirked and continued doing my thing. I could feel her pussy clenching around me, letting me know she was close to cumming. I just smirked at her expectantly, waiting for her to let the producer know she was perfectly fine and would be out as soon as we were done. With noticeably shaky legs, might I add.

"Y-yes!" she screamed, panting heavily, but somehow managing not to moan. "I-I'll be out.. s-soon!"

My eyes were locked on her breasts, watching them bounce with every thrust I made against her body.

The producer's footsteps receded and I smirked at her again, pushing my hips directly into her g-spot. [Name] moaned out before she could stop herself and her body shook desperately as she screamed out my name, her body emptying out every ounce of sweet, sweet cum. "Oh God, Fiiiiiiiiiiinn!"

I pushed my hips against hers a few more times before finally spilling into the condom with a load, throaty groan. I panted heavily, my body sticky with sweat as I rolled off her.

"I'm so fucking pissed at you." [Name] scolded breathlessly, but I could tell she wasn't really mad at me. She was more embarrassed than anything. I was sure I'd be embarrassed too, once the high from my orgasm wore off. But for now, I was cocky, smug, and pretty fucking proud of myself.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure you are. Just hush and get your pretty little ass out there before they come looking for you again." I smirked and gave her a cheeky wink as she groaned and tossed a pillow at me, hurriedly shoving clothes back onto her body and running out, leaving me alone, cackling at her as I cleaned up after us.

#💭 ۫⠀IMAGINE.⠀୨୧⠀· ˚ #⊹ . SMUT ۫ . #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard smut #finn wolfhard x you #finn wolfhard x reader #finn wolfhard fluff #stranger things #it chapter two #it chapter one #it #the turning #the turn of the screw #ghostbusters afterlife #when you finish saving the world #the goldfinch #mike wheeler #miles fairchild #trevor spengler #ziggy katz #boris pavlikovsky #richie tozier

[dilxcc]

chapter two

summary. in which two friends who desperately clings to each other until the other slips away . . .

contains. fem!reader, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, slowburn, cussing, grammatical errors . . .

note. sorry that it took me so long to write this!! one, i had my final exam so i was studying real hard. two, i totally forgot abt this!! 😭

previous chapter

20 august 2006

gojo held back his laughters as he and geto crept up behind you. geto put a finger over his lips, a warning that gojo was slowly getting louder. the white haired male clasps a hand over his mouth, his eyes slowly shifting to you, who was reading a book with earphones plugged to your ears.

without waiting any further, gojo and geto surprises you with their hands on your back. "what the-" you yelled and stumbled forward before looking behind you. you take off your earphones aggressively and glared at them. "i've been waiting for an hour for you guys to show up and this is what you greet me with?!"

the two of them were laughing non-stop, both of them slapping each other's back in amusement. "that was- that was so funny! you should've seen the look on your face!" the white haired male laughed.

you heaved out an annoyed sigh and rolled your eyes at them. "anyway, where's shoko?" you asked, crossing your arms as you stared at the two of them. "she's waiting at the cafe," geto answered, wiping the tears at the corner of his eyes due to the previous laughters.

.

22 august 2006

you watched the stars twinkling in the sky, accompanying the moon. gojo stayed laid down beside you, his hands resting behind his head. "it's gotten quite warm lately," the male stated, his head turned slightly to see the beautiful structure of your face. you hummed in response. "have you been drinking enough water?" you asked softly.

he hummed. "have you?"

"i have," you muttered. "that's good," he said softly, his eyes still lingering on you. "the moon, it's beutiful," you said softly, your eyes still gazing the moon.

"yeah," he answered softly, his eyes not moving from your face. "it is beautiful,"

.

xx xxx 2006

he ran as fast as he can, his heart pounding hard in his chest to the point that he could hear it in his ears. "you idiot..!" gojo muttered, his eyes getting misty from tears.

"where is she?! where's y/n?!" he asked frantically. his eyes were trained on shoko. "calm down, satoru! she's still inside!" the female said, her voice slightly raised to scold the man. "if you can't calm down to think rationally, then you can't save her!" shoko continued.

gojo ran a hand through his hair frustratingly. "tell me where she is," he said quietly, his voice slightly calmed. "we don't know her exact location. suguru is inside too," she added. his eyes widened.

"we should trust them, satoru," shoko said in a comforting manner.

.

xx xxx 2006

his hands stayed in his pockets as he stared at your unconscious figure. "you've always been so stupid," he scoffed, taking a seat by the window. "you made me stupid too..." he whispered, his voice barely above whisper. "i don't know why i couldn't have just warped to you. instead, my heart was telling me to run towards you," he lets out a pained chuckle.

"will you please wake up?" he said softly, his voice almost sounded as if he was begging. he lets out a sigh and rubbed his hand over his face. "im sorry..." he muttered under his breath.

.

xx xxx xx

"what took you so long?" gojo asked, looking at you with a straight face. you smiled slightly before chuckling a little. "where's suguru?" you asked him softly, your voice slightly croaked due to not talking for a long time.

he flinched at that question. "he... betrayed the jujutsu high. he's not here anymore," he said under his breath.

.

xx xxx 2017

he sprawled in his bed, eyes still wide open from his previous dream. it was a dream of you. satoru sighed and sat up, his legs folded whiled he rewind the dream in his head like a broken record. it was still clear. he couldn't forget about it even if he wants to. how could he? when you were the source of that very dream.

he can't help it.

he put his hand on his chest where his heart is, feeling every beat of it. how fast it was beating because of you. he almost thought that the dream was real. hell, he wished it was real.

he could still feel the way your hand caressed his cheek. then he snapped himself out of his daydreaming. how could he? how could he be daydreaming about you when he had just lost suguru? what kind of friend would he be for being happy when his best friend had just passed away.

he looked over at the bedside table where his phone were ringing multiple times. seeing the caller's id, he decided to ignore it. it was for the best. he was punishing himself.

taglist @instantmusico @wooasecret

masterlist

#gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #jjk #jjk imagines #jjk fanfic #jjk angst #say you love me : chapter two #angst #fanfiction

[jiminrings]

four seven eight (2)

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 12k

glimpse: it’s the first fifteen days of your month-long break away from jungkook, and even if you were the one who proposed it, you didn’t think it would be this hard. 

alternatively, jungkook really hopes it’s true that things do get worse before they get better.

[ part one + intermission + part two + intermission 02 + finale ]

[ kinda major angst (it’s heavier than the previous updates), references to anxiety, a lot of crying n drama, a lot more yearning, emotional constipation + tones of regret all throughout, some wholesome moments, character development, redemption arc is starting to peek thru, based on the moral dilemma of whether or not it’s okay to be friends with ur ex ]

notes: part two’s finally out!! this was little more difficult and took longer to write because this would serve as a bridge to the finale :O fair warning that this could be heavier depending on ur tolerance for angst, so pls take a break when you need to <3

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :) | series masterlist

You always insisted on having a big bed.

Jungkook remembers your insistence on having a big bed when the two of you moved in together and slowly started furnishing your home before your wedding. Your preferences didn’t exactly clash his because while you mostly took care of the budget and he took care of the aesthetics, there would almost always be common ground. Almost.

Jungkook let it slide when you pleaded for him to just give up and agree with your choice for the couch because after all, he wouldn’t be the only one living in the space. He wanted an expensive yet high-quality leather couch in the versatile shade of black; something that was timeless and low-maintenance, built to endure years of wear and tear. But no, you didn’t want that — you wanted a floor sofa that had clouds for cushions and was tufted, baby blue in color.

The floor couch is a bad idea. First of all its essence is to be directly placed on the floor, so cleaning and maintaining it would be a ball. It was all fabric and in tufts, meaning that you’d have to vacuum and take extra care with it because of course, the color you want it in is baby blue that was easily stainable.

Suggesting the cute yet impractical floor couch next to his neutral (and almost boring) yet practical leather couch was a bad idea — but Jungkook let it happen.

For the ten minutes you’ve whisked him away and showed him a presentation in your laptop entitled “Why You Should Let Mrs. Jeon Win”, Jungkook’s already caved in. Before you even got to finish the presentation, he’s already typing in the website that you’ve indicated on the first slide to book the order already. 

For ten minutes, you giddily talked and presented as if your life depended on the choice of couch for your shared home. You were so excited that you were rambling, reading and backing up your slides too eagerly that you don’t see Jungkook discreetly filming you, the biggest smile he’s ever had displayed on his face.

Your floor couch arrived three days later and the moment Jungkook sees you automatically squeal, the exact moment you insist for the two of you to crouch in sync so that you’d both take the first seat at your new couch in the exact same time, he makes a realization.

Jungkook fully intends to lose to you if it means you’re this happy.

He fully intends to lose to you and resort to vacuuming your floor couch twice every week, spot cleaning at the first threat of a stain within five minutes, and getting it professionally cleaned every three months if it means you still sigh in relief whenever you sit on it, tucking your face to the crook of his neck to say thank you.

You say thank you a lot to him. Sometimes it’s for the most mundane of things; when he turns on the hot water for you before you shower or when he buys dishwashing soap because you’re about to run out, you make it clockwork to thank him.

Before you slept that night on the milestone of having a major home purchase, you thank him. You thank him out loud for the baby blue floor couch he insisted on buying with his own money and not with a single cent of yours before you go to sleep. He can’t wrap his head around your eagerness to thank him for the things he feels like should only be normal of him to do, but he returns the favor. 

Jungkook thanks you for existing. 

The baby blue floor couch without you occupying it does suck the energy out of Jungkook, but he’s cautious to never get used to it. He wants to never accustom himself to the unease of not having you here, despite knowing that your break would only last for a month.

It’s only the first night, and as much as Jungkook wants to sit on the floor and avoid looking at the couch entirely, he pushes through to occupy it alone. He doesn’t deny himself of thinking that he’s an asshole and it’s weird to have an irrational fear of sitting on a couch without your wife.

Whatever he’s scared of, Jungkook wills himself to remain scared. 

The couch wasn’t the only big purchase you insisted on letting him make you win — it was also the bed.

You always insisted on having a big bed.

Jungkook found it impractical to why exactly would you yearn for the third-biggest variation of a king-sized bed (as if the standard one wasn’t enough) in your bedroom even if it was only the two of you who’d occupy it. Sure, he gets that a standard double would be a tight fit for the both of you. However, the deluxe standard gives you enough space already to roll around. The queen would already be pushing it because the two of you can sit on the opposite sides, put an oven on the middle, and would still have space left to roll around. How much more would the third-biggest variation of a king-sized bed be?

He thought how impractical and difficult it would be. Finding and putting on beddings would be a nightmare, unable to imagine the time it would take if either of you were to hypothetically lose something in the sea of it. 

It was a fifteen-minute presentation that time, and Jungkook was easily swayed. 

You insisted on having a big bed, but even if it had enough space for you to farm in, you clung to Jungkook in your sleep as if you were sharing a standard double-sized bed. You held onto him and slung atleast half of your body on top of his that one would think you’re cramming to fit together in a solo mattress. Jungkook doesn’t get why you insisted on having a big bed if you were just going to regard it as small by the way you stick to him in your sleep, but he doesn’t complain.

He complains now that you aren’t in it.

Jungkook can’t sleep at all.

He’s always had some kind of trouble sleeping; imaginary monsters as a child, frustrations as a teenager and as an adult, starting now, it’s heartaches.

It’s the ache and anxiety that manifests within him without you beside him. He’s used to a degree of you leaving him for some time because the outgoing nature of your career was unavoidable, but never did he get used to sleeping without you. 

It’s why he always waits up for you to come home, and no matter how grumpy or tired you were by the time you’re tucked in, Jungkook knows at the very least that he’s beside you and that’s enough to lull him to sleep.

You know he had troubles sleeping that at the first instance you had to be out of the country for three days, you tried your best to leave Jungkook with something that could get him through the nights. It was the 4-7-8 method that you’ve taught him, meant to reduce your heart rate to the point that it makes you sleepy. 

Four seconds. Breathe in through your nose.

Seven seconds. Hold it.

Eight seconds. Exhale through your mouth.

The first time he did it, he was able to knock himself out under ten minutes. It wasn’t instant but instead it was almost mockingly gradual, only able to accept the call for sleep completely once you let go of your senses. He could do it back then, when he knew you were out because work calls.

He was able to do it then and a couple other times after because he knew that sometime in the morning, before he wakes up, either you would be there or atleast your presence would be known, through a text or a call asking him how he slept.

He used to be able to do it but he can’t do it now.

Jungkook can’t do it now because this is the peak of all the possible unfavorable contexts of why you aren’t here next to him. You’re not here because of work — you’re not here because of him.

He’s anxious, way more anxious than he’s ever been in the past week and his mind just can’t stay still. He can’t form a coherent thought without connecting it to you somehow, the association of everything he is and everything around him not helping in the least bit.

When Jungkook thinks of sleep, he thinks of you. He thinks of how he could be snoring within a minute if your arms are around him, and no matter how the comforter’s cool to the touch and warm on his skin, you’re always warmer.

When Jungkook thinks of love, he thinks of you. He thinks of how it seems impossible for a person to possess and be capable of giving so much love, but he sees you and suddenly, it’s not all that impossible.

When Jungkook thinks of the anxiety bubbling in his chest, he thinks of you. He thinks of now and all the other instances that he needs you but you aren’t there. It’s the anxiety that consumes him first and it’s guilt that consumes him the second, both equally as worse because you aren’t there to quell either. 

He knows it’s physically impossible to sleep tonight, he wouldn’t even attempt to. If it’s guilt that keeps him awake tonight and he has more than enough to spare, he’ll rectify it little by little.

Even if he needs to call his ex at ten in the evening.

He dials Sora with the number she used to text him, unsure if she’d even pick up but nonetheless, he’s insistent to set things straight; to say what he should’ve said in the first place.

“Jungkook?” Sora answers at the tenth ring, voice obviously confused to why her ex would be calling her up at this hour. She didn’t even want to answer at this first because despite the missing context, answering it felt wrong, too personal to even consider talking to Jungkook at this time.

Jungkook wastes no time because he leads what's been plaguing his mind, cutting in bluntly. “Hey. I did something wrong. We did something wrong.”

Sora’s immediately attentive, straightening up from her position on the bed and pausing her show in the background. She has an inkling to what it would be, all pointing to the direction of April 23 which merely was just days ago; the guilt doesn’t escape her either.

“I should’ve told you when we had lunch last time, but I’m married — have been for a year now. We’ve been together for five years,” he speaks with no hesitation. His words are fluid by now, unstopping perhaps because he knows every detail about you. “I love her the most in this world.”

One thing about Sora is that she’s transparent. You’d figure her out exactly by the tone of her voice, it was easy to do so. Sora’s surprised, but not entirely. She’s sincere in the way that the burst of her excitement makes Jungkook flinch for a second.

“Wow. That’s amazing, Jungkook! I’m happy for you, god, I really am. Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks the last part with a slight frown, realizing the duality of her question. The weighted, and equally as dubious end of her query. “Wait, fuck. Why didn’t I ask?”

“That’s why I called,” he pipes in softly, pursing his lips. “I’m calling to say that we shouldn’t do these things anymore.” 

He thought it would be shameful to say these things out loud, and it is. The embarrassment that coats him whole is enough to make a man like him tremble to himself. His voice is meek from the humiliation but he can’t imagine how much harder it was for you, someone who’s the indirect bystander of what had happened.

“By things, I mean April 23. You know, being familiar with each other as if we aren’t figures from the past to each other. I don’t know if you did it intentionally but you ordered my food for me,” he hears Sora cuss herself in the background but he continues, swallowing down the discomfort he feels. “I’m just saying that we should stop this… lingering attachment. I know you were my best friend before all this but it’s just not the same. I know we grew up and went through so much but we were meant to end there.” 

Sora is a figure of his past. She’s an undeniable figure of his life and although his love for her had already long passed, it doesn’t negate it. Jungkook has his faults but simply enough, he doesn’t believe in the notion that you have to bury every single memory and every single feeling you’ve experienced with a person who doesn’t reside in your life at the present. 

Jungkook’s already forgotten the feeling of loving Sora and he would never pick it up again — but that doesn’t mean Sora had never existed in his life in the first place. 

“It’s my fault that even if it was in some small way, I held onto the concept of you. It’s stupid of me to do that,” he admits.

If Jungkook were to keep every skeleton in the closet, he’ll find himself in the same place over and over again. If he had buried every single memory he had with people whom he once loved; of the people who were once in his life, be it a member of his family or his friends. 

If Jungkook negated all the fleeting figures and memories from his life, there would be no figure nor memory worthy enough to stay in it.

“It’s my fault too. I did the same,” Sora sighs, the guilt seeping in now that she can’t escape it any longer. “It’s deep, I get it. But you’re right, it’s just so unhealthy for us to not fully let go. Even just as friends.” 

Sora pinches herself on the knee, heavily breathing at the frustration that knocks her whole brain sideways. “I’m sorry, that was really stupid of me. I don’t know what compelled me to invite my ex, you, to eat out at the date of what was our anniversary.”

“I’m equally as stupid to accept your invite, to be honest.”

It must’ve been so hard for you. Sora didn’t need him but you did, yet it wasn’t you that he came to.

“We’re past our time, Sora.” Jungkook chews on his bottom lip, sighing. The weight of the hurt is still there, it’s still present when he looks at his wedding band now. “I was in love with you for the confusing part of like, how long were we together again? Three years? Yeah,” he plays with his rings, the admission of what he says next hitting the other side of the call a little harder. “We’ve been separated longer than the time we were together.” 

“I admit, I celebrated the concept of us even when I shouldn’t have,” Jungkook burns in recall but he musters through it. “I used to think no one else would understand me like you do.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I am wrong.”

“I’m wrong too. We did a horrible mistake by meeting that day,” Sora humorlessly chuckles, feeling genuinely shitty. “I admit too, I was attached to the idea of you even after we broke up because I thought no one else would be able to love me.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“Are you married now too?” Jungkook asks because he figures he didn’t do it either, unknowing of what to expect.

“Engaged. Kind of in a rough patch now, though,” Sora answers definitively, wincing at the realization now that she says it out loud. “He found out I met up with you. He said he needs time to reevaluate things.”

They’re both guilty. And while Jungkook has been wallowing and embracing his guilt the past few days, Sora’s been avoidant of it as she spends every second distracting herself without her fiancé in their home. She knows better now, especially when it comes from the other half of who contributed to their shared fault. Jungkook used to be the avoidant one but he’s grown — he wants to become better.

“They don’t deserve this but we do,” Jungkook reminds her in a hum; whatever guilt they bear now, they deserved it and more. “Y/N and I are in a rough patch too.”

“Y/N? Pretty name,” Sora smiles, feeling that it’s familiar.

“I know. Jeon has a ring to it. Although, she uses her maiden name for the screen,” he smiles while thinking of you; of how you’re doing — if you miss him now like he misses you. “You might’ve heard of her.”

“The screen? Y/N….?” Sora racks her head, the race finally being attached to the name he hears of. “No. No fucking way. Your wife’s the Y/N? As in the one in In Terms of Eternity?”

There’s a burst of pride in Jungkook, one that satiates him.

“Mhmm. She’s the one.”

“You’re extremely lucky to have her. Wow, I don’t even know if the world lucky cuts it.”

By then their conversation’s already dwindled. There’s nothing left to say besides a silent agreement.

“Let’s never do something as stupid as what we did ever again, Sora,” Jungkook enunciates. “This is goodbye.”

It’s time — the both of them know it. It’s been far too long and they’ve dragged their absence of closure to the point it managed to hurt their lovers who didn’t ask for their baggage.

They’re now officially only fleeting figures in each other past. They’re way past their due date but atleast the guilt they bear now is a reminder that they’re being punished for it.

“Bye, Jungkook. It was a blessing to know you.”

“Bye, Sora.”

.

.

.

Jungkook has just one more call to make before the guilt subsides. It wouldn’t ever disappear, but he’d make the effort to let it ebb, even by just a little.

You answer on the second ring. It’s muscle memory to accept his calls and although you’re on a break, the worry you have for your husband wouldn’t ever disappear.

You accept it but you don’t talk. Now that you hear Jungkook breathing on the other side, the urge to end it wants to overtake you so bad but he’s faster than your reflexes, the desperation evident in his tone.

“Stay on the call, please. You don’t even have to talk.”

Jungkook doesn’t hear you speak and he takes it as his cue, playing with his wedding band once again. “I know where I went wrong.” 

“It would be a little shitty for you to only get an apology through the phone, and I would go there right now if I could to do it in person but I know you don’t wanna see me. And it’s already late and I don’t know if you wanna hang up already but,” he speaks all in one breath, now having an abundance to utter all of it when earlier, he didn’t even feel like it. “I just want to tell you I know that I’m in the wrong. It’s late of me to realize that, but I’m wrong.”

Jungkook has a long way to go. It’s draining just to think of the days left that he has to function alone without you. It makes him want to hurl just how many times he has to see the baby blue floor couch and the third-biggest variation of your king-sized bed without feeling the urge to cry.

“That’s not my apology just yet, by the way. I don’t want to make it insincere because I just woke you up for the sake of calling you,” he screws his eyes shut, scratching the back of his ear. “Fuck, calling you right now is selfish of me.”

He doesn’t speak and neither do you, but this will have to do. It’s silent companionship for now that comes in one-way conversations through the phone and yearning for the other owner of the wedding band he plays with.

“Y/N? Are you there?”

You hold your breath, screwing your eyes shut. You want to cry so bad but it was exhausting to do. Your eyes have already stung enough and the whites of your eyes are too bloodshot with the amount of eyedrops you have to put for appearances.

“Ah. You probably went to sleep already,” Jungkook concludes, smiling that even if he won’t get any rest tonight, he atleast knows that you would.

“I love you,” Jungkook speaks thickly. “I know you can’t say it back right now but I love you.” 

He waits for another silence and he only hopes you hear him. That if you’re dreamless tonight, he hopes you hear him from the back of your mind.

“I mean it.”

( ♡ )

You go back to your home with Jungkook to get some of your things for the meantime. 

At your first night in your house, you realize that you haven’t really moved out of it. Almost no piece of furniture left it when you moved in to a separate place altogether with Jungkook. Besides being just a little dusty and a little unkempt, it’s like you never left at all.

Your TV’s still intact to the wall. The stove still works, the refrigerator runs as soon as you plug it in, and the water’s still clean. True enough, you do have some clothes you’ve left and didn’t take with you — besides the obvious absence of food, your house remains livable.

It’s livable, desirable even. Your house is much bigger than your place with Jungkook because to begin with, the two of you resided in an apartment. A luxury apartment, sure. It’s bigger than most but it isn’t a house — there’s no second floor, no ceilings and walls big enough to make you think that there’s more to it.

You reckon that you’ve offered him to just move in to your house instead but he declined, all with the reasoning that as much as it’d be nice, your house was much further than where your work calls. Jungkook knew that you need to be in the city, where everyone’s busy and you’re closer to the buzz of everything. The back and forth from the city to where your house was at would be tolling, he assumes, so he stayed stubborn until you agreed for the two of you to get a new place altogether.

He doesn’t mind the apartment. After all, it’s already much more luxurious than his childhood room and the apartment he lived in before settling with you. It isn’t small, but it’s smaller than a house. It isn’t practical to be shelling out an ungodly amount of money for a space that isn’t proportional to its worth, but it’s worth it for you. It’s convenient for you and at the end of the day, Jungkook doesn’t mind because you’d get to go home to him faster.

The house you’ve bought for yourself before you were married is much more upscale. When you used to have guests over, you’d have a hard time pointing out who is where because unlike your home now, they’d have space to roam around in. It’s not that extravagant, but it has much more potential.

If you’re being honest, you hate how big it is now.

Jungkook is a mass that fills up every space he goes in. If he were here now, you’d think that after all, maybe your house isn’t really that big and you were just exaggerating. He makes everything tolerable and livable. His presence doesn’t intrude on you, but it was big enough of a mass to remind you that he’s there. 

He’s a mass that occupies the seat opposite to you in the dining table, the spot beside you in bed, and the ring on your finger.

The ring… on your finger?

The absence of the weight of platinum from your ring finger makes you shoot awake at six in the morning, an overreach since you barely even slept to begin with. It’s there, it’s supposed to be there when you’re not working. You blink over and over again to see if you were just seeing things, or not seeing things at all, but the ring isn’t there.

You forgot your ring in your home with Jungkook.

Looking at your ring finger now, it’s almost as if you’ve never even wore it. There’s neither indentations of the wedding band nor tan lines it should supposedly leave when you wear it regularly. The skin on your finger is just plain, making your stomach sink. 

You have to get it now.

You got to your house anyways because Jungkook drove you with his car, fresh from picking you up at the club when you made the split-second decision for him to drop you here instead of your shared home. You’re just about to dial your driver’s number to see if he could pick you up despite having no schedule at all for today, but to your surprise when you peek at the garage, Jungkook’s car is there.

He left his car with you, walked a little to the convenience store that was two miles away to pin it as his location, and booked a ride home.

Jungkook cares for you in mysterious ways. In mysterious, and presumptively impulsive ways because you can’t even begin to think why he just left his car with you instead of taking it with him to go home. You don’t know it now but if he were to tell you, you wouldn’t believe that he’d walk two miles in the dark of night to go to the convenience store because he didn’t want the driver to know your house, and go home.

You leave the house as quickly as you could with Jungkook’s car, determined to bring it back to him. All you needed to do as soon as you arrive at the apartment was to get your wedding band, pack a few clothes and some toiletries, leave with your car this time, and grab groceries on the way to your house.

It should be as easy as it sounds. Read: it’s not.

It’s not Jungkook who greets you first as soon as you go in, but instead, it’s Miso.

Miso immediately yowls as soon as you enter, enough to alert anyone within a five-mile radius. She quickly circles around you, her tail brushing your legs the entire time. She keeps meowing repeatedly that you’re certain it already woke Jungkook up at the peak of 6:30 in the morning.

You carry her to placate her concern that the night passed without you, shushing her. You immediately carry her to her bowl that you fill up with food to shut her up, hoisting her into the air before letting her near it.

“Watch over your daddy for the meantime, okay?”

There’s not a single thing behind her eyes but she meows to what you say, satisfied enough with her response that you let her down. By now, you can’t help but think Jungkook’s already awake at this point.

All the things you needed are in your shared room and there’s no skirting around Jungkook. You could only hope that the door’s unlocked and it is, making you sigh a breath of relief because in any other circumstance, you would’ve scolded him for leaving it unlocked.

You go straight to the connecting closet first because the door squeaks, only sparing a glance to what seems a mass underneath the comforter. It dawns on you that Jungkook’s probably asleep still, making you relaxed enough to walk to the closet without hunching.

Jungkook’s awake, actually — he hadn’t even slept. He already sensed your presence as soon as the key fob beeped, even way before Miso yowled her heart out. He was just about to get out of bed by the time you arrived, but after his quick thinking that you’re here for your things and not for him, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable so here he is: giving the performance of his life by pretending he’s still asleep.

You fill up with your luggage with two weeks’ worth of clothes, fully planning to rotate it by doing laundry at your house because you want to atleast have a semblance of a routine. It gets filled up in no time, only thinking for a second longer when you take some of Jungkook’s shirts that you don’t think he would notice missing.

It’s comforting to know that Jungkook’s asleep, especially since you were concerned last night from his late call and wondered if he even slept after that. He’s knocked out cold, it seems like, that you don’t have any problem in opening the squeaky door to the bathroom to get your toiletries.

Looking at the rack, it’s quick to dawn on you that you and your husband share a lot of things. The same shampoo and conditioner, the same brand of bathroom slippers, all the way down to the same hairbrush yet in different colors.

You take them all yet make quick work of replacing them with the new stock of the same things. It’s for Jungkook anyways; taking two minutes longer to replace and reposition everything to make it seem that you hadn’t even raided the bathroom wouldn’t hurt.

All you need now is your ring.

You remember placing it on your jewelry drawer, the container just a couple feet placed on the dresser away from the bed. The ring’s relatively easy to retrieve and you put it immediately on your finger, the familiar weight placating you now that it’s there.

You’ve already retrieved it but it’s not what takes up your time — instead, you look at Jungkook whose eyes are closed.

Your husband looks peaceful sleeping, genuinely sleeping. Although now, it’s the furthest thing from genuine. His undereyes are dark and although his hair’s messy, it’s from him repeatedly running his hands through it, not from sleep.

It would’ve been believable if only his eyeballs weren’t flickering underneath his lids, already telling that he’s not asleep, and that he’s shit at acting.

“I know you’re awake.”

“I’m not,” Jungkook mutters while he limits the movements of his mouth to keep it closed, eyebrows furrowing. He peeks one eye open slowly, surprised that you’re still there. He slowly opens his eyes completely, unbothered to try stretching out his limbs to convince you that he’s indeed coming from sleep. “I’m pretending to sleep in case you need an out.”

“Are you gonna leave now?” Jungkook asks lowly while he sits himself up the bed, trying not to make the desperation in his voice peek through. “Or will you stay for atleast ten minutes to hear me out?”

You’re not used to Jungkook initiating confrontation.

It’s a state of him that you’re still getting used to because you see the desperation in him now. It’s grounding enough that you remain rooted in your place, mouth opening in reply. You usually don’t find yourself terrified of confrontation and you don’t want to start now, choking down your hesitation to conquer the impeding threat of it.

“I’ll stay,” you find your voice, coughing in addition. “For ten minutes. And you stay there,” you add for good measure, choosing to sit on the chair in your vanity instead.

Jungkook hadn’t initially planned apologizing to you at seven in the morning, but he’ll take it. He’ll take every chance that he gets presented over and over, even if he’s already done it beforehand.

“I’m sorry,” his shoulders deflate in finally saying the words, sucking in a deep breath. “I’ve been holding onto Sora as a memory for so long that I didn’t realize she bore no meaning to me anymore.”

“I’m sorry for meeting up with her. I’m not gonna defend myself,” Jungkook winces, shaking his head because to him, it seems like his case is the furthest thing from defendable. “It’s wrong of me to do that. Even if you were still my girlfriend today and not my wife, it would still be wrong for me to meet up with my ex.”

He looks sincere, evidently so from the way he maintains eye contact with you even if you know he struggles with it sometimes. It’s harrowing what an apologetic Jungkook does to you because it tugs at your heart. Come to think of it, you’ve never seen him this way until now because the two of you didn’t go through anything like this before.

“I’m so, so sorry for not telling you about the date. April 23 to me... it feels like a ghost at this point.”

The date doesn’t even feel worthy to possess any meaning at all. It’s a phantom that Jungkook’s been so fixated on that he forgot why he’s even chasing it in the first place. He wanted it, he used to want it.

“I kept chasing it for years even if it only intrigued me once. I was younger back then and things were rough,” he admits, remembering how he once detailed that growing up didn’t go the smoothest. “I went to a tent bar, then Sora joined me, and for some reason I felt the happiest that day. Things had been rough continuously but it was just this one good day out of all the bad ones that I couldn’t forget it — that I kept holding onto it.”

You try to take in everything. You try to understand to the best of your abilities and see Jungkook’s explanation through but every mention of her puts an unease on your stomach and even if you know you’ll outgrow the response, you also know that no one can blame you for it.

“I don’t know if I’m helping my case with you but I want to be honest. I should’ve told you this in the first place, this is the bare minimum that I could do.”

Jungkook breathes in the shame that seeps from every pore as he recounts his thoughts that contributed to the previous mindset of being hellbent to celebrate the date, trying to spare no details.

“I thought that April 23 would need to be commemorated every single year after that because I’m thankful for it. I wanted to keep reliving it even if it was by doing something completely unrelated,” he says. “I tie that date with happiness. I used to,” he mutters, playing with his ring to level his thoughts. “But I realize now that Sora’s tied to the date by default because she was there.”

Jungkook presses on the base of his thumb to try not to cry. He’s looking at you but he can’t read you, unable to recognize your face and what you were thinking.

“And I don’t want to be tied to April 23 anymore.” 

“I should’ve stopped celebrating it the day after the tent bar because things like those — they aren’t meant to be relived,” he sighs heavily, exhaling through his mouth because his eyes are starting to sting.  “I’m sorry you had to find out from people other than me.”

You finally find your voice after some time. It’s not headstrong but you let him hear it still, fiddling with your hands as you explain your side of understanding.

“I found out about your yearly thing with Sora from Seokjin,” you clear your throat, the mention of his cousin making him nod in realization because after all, he’s met her before and knew the significance of the date.

“Then I found the picture from Eunwoo because he got his films developed at the shop, said he forgot what was in there. Turns out he’s a regular, he was just as surprised to see me.”

“Eunwoo?” Jungkook parrots, obviously more surprised. He’s confused about it still despite being a coincidence because as far as he knew, not even his closest friends know about your family’s shop; he respects that it’s one of the only things left of you that’s private. “Eunwoo and Sora are related.”

“What?” your brows knit at the new piece of information, even more surprised than he was.

“They’re cousins, but Sora’s mother raised them both,” he trails off, shaking his head. “You can kinda imagine that whenever I came over, I’d always see Eunwoo in their place.”

“Is that why he’s always been weird with me?”

“I think so, yeah,” Jungkook scratches the back of his head but he’s just as stuck on this as you are. “I think he looked up to me, y’know? So when Sora and I broke up, Eunwoo just... lingered, I guess. Wasn’t close with his cousin, but wasn’t close with me either. So when we bumped into him in the grocery and I introduced you to him as my girlfriend, that probably boosted him into hating you or something.”

“Does he know we’re married?”

“No,” he answers definitively. “He doesn’t know because I blocked him everywhere right after we came home from the grocery.”

Your head tilts in response, curious about Jungkook’s immediate response. “Why?”

“He just felt off to me, I don’t know. Even when Sora and I were together, he was... you couldn’t tell what he’s thinking,” he shudders off the indirect chills that Eunwoo gives him. “I didn’t want him knowing anything about you through me so I blocked him.”

It’s a nice notion, you guess.

Just a little bit flawed.

“You’re a little bit of a hypocrite,” you breathe out, slightly scoffing when a frown makes its way on your visage. “You don’t like Eunwoo but you met up with your ex without telling me.”

“No. Not that,” you correct yourself, shaking your head in the process. “You celebrated your anniversary with your ex.”

Jungkook doesn’t blame you for your reaction. In fact, he knows he deserves it which is why he acknowledges your critique immediately.

“You’re right. I am a hypocrite.”

“It was extremely shitty of me to do that,” he confirms even as his voice wavers. “And I’m sorry. I know sorry doesn’t cut it at all, but I’ll be better.”

Jungkook, although eager to change to become more open and less avoidant, is still new to confrontation. He’s still new to you being angry and upset at him, the weight that you bring making him trip over his words.

His eyes sting to the point that he’s resorted to blinking the discomfort away but it only pushes his tears out, making his bottom lip tremble now that he’s vulnerable in front of you.

“I wish I could tell you a better apology but I’m trying, I swear. I-I’m trying to find the words,” he’s desperate to wipe his tears away, not wanting you to think that he’s doing this to sway you into forgiving him. “Sorry, sorry. I’m sorry for crying. I just can’t-“

Four seconds. Breathe in through your nose.

Seven seconds. Hold it.

Eight seconds. Exhale through your mouth.

“I’m trying to think of what I should say to you but I can’t think of an apology that you deserve the most,” he hiccups, breathing in to try and keep the tears at bay. “I’m sorry. Sorry. I’m trying! I’m really trying to think right... really just... r-really trying to think right now.”

“Please breathe, Jungkook.”

You’re already by his side to hold him by his arms, the warmth of your hands enough to make him stop sputtering over nothing.

Four seconds. Breathe in through your nose.

Seven seconds. Hold it.

Eight seconds. Exhale through your mouth. 

The meow that alerts you Miso’s here brings you and Jungkook out of your worry and despair respectively, making you whip your head to face her. You crouch down to pick her up, setting her in Jungkook’s arms who takes her from you with no complaints.

Miso’s normally skittish especially in the morning, but this time she doesn’t fight the hold. She even licks a tear off from Jungkook’s cheek.

You, Jungkook, and Miso all just sit there until he’s calm. Until the melancholy is reduced enough for you to speak over the stuffiness.

“Did we clarify everything?”

Jungkook nods. “You can still ask. I promise I’ll answer.”

“I think I’ll pass for the day,” you decline with a humorless chuckle, pursing your lips when you shake your head lightly. “I just need to process everything.”

Jungkook understands more than ever, remaining seated as you gather your luggage and walk out of the room. He follows you from a distance with Miso still in his arms, a question dying to be asked at the tip of his tongue.

“Can I ask?”

“Okay,” you grant him, just two steps out of the apartment with your car keys also in hand this time.

“This is day two, right?” Jungkook rhetorically asks. “You’ll come home to me in twenty-nine days?”

“You need to come to me because I can’t come to you,” he chews on his bottom lip. “I can’t come to your house because that isn’t home,” he adds.

“This is home.”

You’re thankful that it’s a quick exit from there but you give your husband a different answer entirely, unaware that you’re the one who’s avoidant this time.

“Bye, Jungkook.”

“I love you,” he says something entirely different too, a tight smile on his face as Miso just watches in confusion why you’re leaving again. “I mean it.”

( ♡ )

Oddly enough, you’ve been getting all your favorite meals back to back from catering. It’s not that it was entirely odd because of course, the actors are asked prior about their preferences and allergies. You named some meals and let it all go, considering that you didn’t really mind.

But the meals you’ve gotten — not one of them goes unfinished. Even the other favorite meals that you haven’t listed are offered back to back by the caterers. It’s odd, but it’s a good odd.

To add to the experience, you haven’t even visited the catering table even once because Jimin delivers all your food right to your dressing room. Even when the other actors are there, it’s only you whom he gives the kindness to bring food to.

However if you were just a little bit more curious to the point that you went outside and went to the catering table yourself, you would know that there’s no other portions to your meals because they don’t even cater it. The meals Jimin hand-delivers, claiming that it was catering who once again made your favorite, only belong to you.

Jungkook’s been making all of them.

He’s been waking up early, driving to your set of the day, and discreetly meeting Jimin to hand him the home-cooked meals he worked hard on for him to give to you during breaks.

This arrangement only started a week ago, Jimin recalling that he was particularly spooked to see your husband texting him. Granted that Jungkook’s text is about you, it was more personal because he’s asking a favor from him.

Jimin only has an inkling to what’s going between you and Jungkook. He doesn’t know the entirety of it but he knows there’s some sort of break involved. Your long-time driver told him that you made him reroute to drop you off at your old house instead of your apartment, and it’s enough for Jimin to be concerned.

You don’t tell the entirety of what unfolded and continues to unfold because after all, this situation’s between you and Jungkook. You might have told Yoongi but it was without unease because he was more of a friend than Jimin felt like a brother to you. You reserve details here and there but the bottom line was that Jimin has a gist of your situation, and it’s enough for the both of you.

Jimin doesn’t want to meddle in it personally because he’s your manager. He tries to keep his mouth shut and console you the best that he can.

But when your husband reaches out to him, pleading that he teams up with him to give you home-cooked meals without revealing that it’s him, Jimin can’t help but to meddle a little.

“Props to you, Kook. You and Y/N just have a really mature relationship, y’know?” he compliments, in the middle of eating a sandwich that Jungkook surprisingly made for him as thanks for his help so far. “Not everyone can be as level-headed as you when your wife’s working with someone she almost ended up with.”

Jungkook allowed himself to linger a little for some conversation, and by conversation, he means discreetly asking how were you through Jimin while he’s busy eating the sandwich he gave him.

He was just about to ask your manager how you were doing when unsurprisingly, Jimin started talking before he could. It’s about you, sure, but it’s not what he expected to hear.

“Excuse me?” Jungkook tilts his head, furrowing his brows in confusion. “What do you mean by that?” he questions, setting his drink down.

“What do you mean she almost ended up with?”

Sometimes, Jimin talks a little too much.

“Oh. You, uh — I thought you knew,” Jimin scratches his temple, slowly chewing until he digests from the hard glance Jungkook gives him. “I thought Yoongi told you because you’re friends.”

“We’re not friends!” he shuts it down quickly, his temper slowly starting to tick upwards.  “I just happen to tolerate him because he’s my wife’s coworker,” he rolls his eyes before correcting himself, “fuck that, I can’t even tolerate him.”

“Oh! Okay,” Jimin acknowledges, taking a big bite in attempt to dodge conversation but Jungkook catches on to it, snatching the sandwich away from him while giving him no choice but to chew.

Jungkook can’t wait any longer that he offers his drink to Jimin to put down his food faster, the latter pounding his chest a little when he almost chokes.

“Same acting workshop when they were just students if I recall correctly,” he relents, voice a little squeaky from getting over his coughs. “Then they kept bumping into each other in sets as extras over and over again. Naturally became friends.”

Jungkook waits for the hook. He braces for hurt even if he doesn’t know what he’s expecting to hear next. He overestimates the pain and even if he does, it does no justice to what Jimin says next.

“Yoongi loved Y/N before,” Jimin recalls, hearing it from the man himself a few years earlier. “He was supposed to ask her out, but you beat him to it a day earlier.”

What an odd twist of fate.

Fate obviously favored him but Jungkook couldn’t imagine what his life would be otherwise, an unknown nervousness building in his chest. He could’ve just put off asking you out a day later and Yoongi would’ve swept you off your feet from himself. After all, you knew Yoongi longer.

“My wife told you this?” Jungkook asks, voice somber but the tone of anger just never leaves it.

“What?” Jimin asks, awkwardly gesturing his hands out to tell the truth. “No, Yoongi did.” 

Despite it all — despite your husband obviously being two seconds away from breaking down, Jimin just didn’t know when to stop talking.

 “I don’t think she even knows that Yoongi was supposed to ask her out.”

If you stepped out of your room and wandered to where Jimin is, you’d know that he’s with your husband. The furthest extent of your knowledge is that Yoongi had and probably still has a crush on you. But if only you were a little curious about your meals and wandered, you’d hear it for the first time ever. You’d hear it for the first time ever in your life that Yoongi was supposed to ask you out.

Jungkook’s caught in his emotions, evident in the way he trembles. He just leaves your meal there and exits the room without giving instructions to Jimin. He walks until he reaches the parking lot but despite being in the solace of his car, he’s still unresponsive.

He doesn’t know how to react at all. Doesn’t know shit about how to process something as big as the fact that it almost wasn’t him you ended up with. Doesn’t know anything about how to cope knowing that it was sick fate that saved him from the agony of not being yours. How’s Jungkook supposed to react now?

Yoongi was almost your first everything.

Being an intern fucking sucked.

He thought it would be prestigious to be accepted as an intern in a media entertainment outlet, but it’s no different than any of the other companies he’s tried to be a part of — he’s the dunce.

He’s the dunce here because all he does is get coffee and water for superiors who are two feet away from the vending machines. He copywrites headlines and articles that aren’t his because even as an intern, no one ever includes him.

The other interns are quickly advancing and he doesn’t know what they do to get significantly better treatment than he does. It’s been like this for a month. A full month of him being the push-over intern who can’t even speak up because doing so would banish him immediately, too desperate and burnt-out to get kicked out and do the process all over again for another company.

He’s been so pent-up that he goes into an elite club he lined up for almost an hour, just because he desires the need to get inebriated without the atmosphere of a dingy, packed club.

Maybe he’s lucky. Maybe he’s just been so miserable that the heavens he prays to pitied him so much that he’s been served his news breakthrough in a silver platter.

He brings out his phone, zooming in on Y/N and Yoongi, two big stars that already rose to become the favorites of everyone even before their drama’s released.

If he recalls correctly, In Terms of Eternity would officially kick off tomorrow.

He zooms in, careful not to be noticed but shameless enough to get your faces clearly. Tries his best to capture the way Yoongi’s leaning to your shoulder and the way your glance is distant, the two of you in what appears to be a deep conversation.

The only time he stops is when he makes out a tall and bulky figure walking to you, presumably your bodyguard to escort you out before anyone notices you.

He doesn’t think twice about it. He safekeeps his phone and keeps his head down, waiting until he could confirm that you’re officially out of the club’s vicinity before he leaves. He comes home that night with a purpose.

He wakes up early and wears his sharpest clothes, proudly wearing his lanyard with a skip on his step and goes straight to his boss’ office without stopping.

“Sir, please hear me out. I took this myself last night. You just have to see.”

His boss is skeptical because how dare this intern walk up to him as if they’re best buddies. His boss’ judgemental gaze doesn’t stop even if he fishes out a flashdrive, but once the familiar figures show up on the screen — his boss is silent.

He watches, utterly amazed and satisfied. He could sense the headlines now about you and Yoongi. This is exactly what would rake in traffic. There’d be so much traffic to their site, to their company, to their partners that almost everyone would be happy.

“Draft out an article right now. Let’s release it next week,” he says with a smile, nodding in recognition of the gold ticket his intern just placed in front of him. “This is good work.”

He feels accomplished, proud that his hate for you would bloom into something this forebodingly good. He’s only met you twice personally, thrice if you counted his accidental sighting of you at the club. If he can’t know you beyond what you share, and not through the eyes of someone he used to look up to, then he can’t do anything about it.

What he can do, is hope that this is enough karma for you.

“Good job, Eunwoo.”

What do you do when a detailed article is released at exactly 12 AM about you and Yoongi? 

What do you do when it’s detailed enough that there are pictures of the two of you in a club, close to each other? 

What do you do when it entails that the two of you are single, and more than plausibly, are dating as of the moment?

You have a meeting with Jimin because he hauls you by his own car at 12:21 in the morning. You arrive at his house and not the company, where Yoongi arrives at 12:28 in the morning.

He has no manager in tow because unfortunately for him, his manager was out of the country. One angry call from Jimin and that’s what it took for Yoongi to head to his house without another word, even if he could foresee that he would only be berated. In fact, if he tears his eyes away from Jimin across the both of you at the table and looks at his phone instead, he’ll know that his manager’s catching the earliest flight back. Unsurprisingly, his manager is also mad at him.

Jimin’s seething. He’s buzzing with anger and you can’t tell if the majority of it was allotted for the outlet who broke the news, or if it was for you and Yoongi.

“Why wasn’t I informed that the two of you went out?”

“These are our personal lives,” Yoongi answers for the both of you, even if that wouldn’t be the ideal answer you’d say if he didn’t beat you to it. “We were getting drinks because the day after that night was the pilot’s release.”

“Okay. Let me rephrase,” Jimin sucks in a breath, face sarcastically jolly before it changes in an instant. “Why were the two of you in a large booth where you could sit everywhere else, but the two of you are sat so close together that your head’s on Y/N’s shoulder already?”

The thing about Jimin is he doesn’t hold back.

He doesn’t sugarcoat things for you, even when he was newly-assigned to you as your manager. He presented things as is, so much so that he’d sound like your biggest critic if only you didn’t know it were facts that he’s presenting and his harshness when it comes to these things comes out of love.

You don’t have a brother but if you had one, this is what you’d imagine it would feel like being harshly confronted.

“We were just talking, Jimin.”

Your manager scoffs, humorlessly chuckling before he tilts his head. He doesn’t know why he’s only hearing of this and better yet why exactly are you reacting like this when he’s barely just scratched the surface.

“Why do you sound so guilty?”

He puts the words exactly to what you’re feeling. You were denying it just minutes ago but this is guilt. Your heart dropping on your stomach is guilt, the tips of your fingers going cold and tingly is guilt, and the tears that threaten to spill is guilt.

Yoongi remains silent because really, he feels guilty too. At the moment, pictures and footages of the both of you in the club are rapidly spreading: his head resting on your shoulder, the onset of affection being instigated by him.

“What’s happening now is publicity. It’s on the better side of publicity because people like watching the two of you,” Jimin starts, sighing when he feels the impending headache forming in his temples.  “But what’s really happening now is a dating scandal. Dating scandals, realistically speaking, are beyond fucking volatile.”

He features no leniency, narrowing his eyes pointedly. “Are the two of you fooling around?” 

“What? No! Why would you even-”

“Are you seriously dating then?” 

“No!” you exclaim this time, obviously lost on why Jimin would think of essentially asking if you were cheating on Jungkook with Jimin. “I’m married!”

Yoongi widens his eyes at the insinuation of the question too, making him cross his arms in a scoff. Jimin knows what’s happening and what’s not happening, and the fact that he’s even asking questions he knows the answers to is beyond offensive — most especially to you.

“Yeah, she’s married! Shit, Jimin, what do you think of her?” Yoongi rolls his eyes, his first concern being your manager’s insinuation regarding you instead of him.

The two of you are defensive. Together, you’re an insufferable pair of friends who’ll defend each other to no end but now’s not the time for showmanship. Now, you needed damage control; an exact plan to how you’re gonna tackle this.

“Then what do the two of you suggest we do about this, huh?” Jimin challenges, sincerely wanting to hear your inputs now that the two of you have gotten brave.

He’s stern and as much as you need him to be in times of wanting to feel that you had something concrete to do, Jimin being unrecognizably serious right now is the last thing you need. He’s stern to the point that it makes you anxious, your protest a little weak as a whisper.

“But you’re the manager.”

“No,” he enunciates. “I want to hear what you want because you’d think that I’m stepping on your toes when I suggest my opinions.”

It’s getting stuffy, a little unbearable now that you can’t pick anything in your mind at the moment besides panic.

“Can’t you please be direct, Jimin?” your voice tremble, tears pricking your eyes because he’s being unreadable just like how Jungkook is. You can’t read anything nor pick up on any cues at all.

It’s heavy, way too heavy because you’re going in on all of this blind. You feel like you’re being humiliated and maybe that’s what Jimin’s going for, and as much as you can’t admit it now, maybe you deserved it.

“You want me to be direct?”

You nod, eyes flickering and accepting when Yoongi offers you his handkerchief.

“Okay, I’ll be direct.” Jimin meets your eyes, setting himself closer across the table to momentarily squish your cheeks together to make it known that he’s not angry at you. “But you don’t cry.”

You try your best not to let any more tears pour out, listening eagerly to what he has to say. You don’t know what exactly to expect, but it wasn’t this.

“I think it would be best if you let this ride out.”

Jimin announces and it catches the attention of Yoongi. He seems perplexed, even if he’s probably had more brush-ups regarding publicity considering that he’s been big in the industry longer than you’ve been.

“We don’t address it at all. Whatever energy it was you had at the club, you let it stay even outside of the club,” Jimin leans back to his seat, sighing in resignation. “We’ll let people make rumors. We don’t respond to them.”

“What people know is that the two of you are a pair of single-” he coughs, “single and apparently single, attractive co-stars with chemistry between them.”

You don’t know if you’re hearing it correct — if you’re really hearing your protective manager say that his plan of action is to let anything be aimed at you and let it takes its course.

“If you choose to pursue a relationship with someone who isn’t Y/N,” he turns to Yoongi, “or if you choose to reveal your marriage with Jungkook who isn’t Yoongi,” he nods at you.

“It would be okay. There would be no problems at all because the two of you didn’t address anything,” he shrugs, the plan being listless but in hindsight, is the safest.

“If any of the two happens, it’ll be typical.” 

Yoongi knows the line by now because he’s had some brush-ups with previous co-stars before, his company always calling a meeting to talk about the best course of action in addressing dating rumors.

“Two single, and apparently single, best friends who are just affectionate with each other on and off-screen.”

It’s a silence that fills the space, a tense one between you and Jimin. You’re the furthest thing from unnerved and as much as the plan scares you, you try to think of the upsides.

“I trust you. You know what’s best,” you finally cave, sighing heavily to yourself.

“No fake dating?” Yoongi asks, head tilting in curiosity.

“No fake dating,” Jimin confirms, smiling. “Just a showy, affectionate friendship in public places.”

Jimin drops you and Yoongi to your respective homes, a hug of comfort being given to you before he drives away. It may be just out of pity but you accept it — you’ll take any bit of solace you could get while Jungkook isn’t here.

Even opening your phone now would make you anxious because the amount of notifications that run through it intimidates you.

You want to call Jungkook but you can’t.

( ♡ )

What do you do when your wife’s involved in a dating scandal with her co-star? 

What do you do when your wife’s pictured sitting closely next to someone who was supposed to be her first everything, if only you didn’t get to unknowingly beat him to it a day earlier?

You cry.

Jungkook cries uncontrollably, inconsolable to the point that Miso doesn’t dare to come near him because his sobs alone make anyone anxious to even go near him.

He’s crying because he hasn’t read one comment that doubts the compatibility of you and Yoongi. There’s essays upon essays of how perfect you and Yoongi look together; the two of you look like a dream together.

There’s breakdowns of how you and Yoongi go way back, pictures of you back in your high school days attached that even he doesn’t know about, the photographs including Yoongi one way or another. There’s timelines of the shows you’ve been in together, video compilations already being spread around in such a short amount of time.

Jungkook can’t stomach everything. He dry heaves without having no real urge to hurl. Seeing this whole thing makes him unimaginably sick, recalling the particular sentence word per word that it makes him recoil from his own hands that he’s been crying to. 

Although not pictured below, Y/N is seen being escorted out of the club by her bodyguard. 

There’s no word that describes it, no combination of letters enough to encapsulate the pain that manifests in him. In practically everyone’s eyes, it’s you and Yoongi. According to everyone, it’s you, Yoongi, and the goddamn stupid bodyguard that had separated you from him.

Jungkook cries so hard that he sees white — he cries so hard that his ears ring in pain. He doesn’t know how long he cries for, but if he were to focus on anything than the pain, the white he’s seeing now isn’t liquid hurt anymore but instead, it’s sunlight.

Jungkook cried from midnight until morning.

( ♡ )

The shop needs to be renovated.

You’ve been saying it for years now, months ago since you started to seriously hound your parents into giving in. They promised to tell you the date wherein they’d close up the shop so it could all start, finishing all prior orders first.

You and Jungkook are inclined to help over because after all, you are your parents’ only child and your husband’s assistance would be much appreciated for all the heavy lifting and fine details. 

You’d be happy for them to accept, you just didn’t expect that it would be now out of all times. They responded to you at 10 PM in the evening, two hours before the dating scandal had dropped. You were already asleep then, only woken up by Jimin frantically calling you and ringing your door. 

You managed to come home at two in the morning. You barely even got to comprehend the text fully before you launch yourself out of the bed, frantic to show up at the shop as fast as you could.

It slipped your mind completely to text Jungkook and ask if he was still up for it, but truthfully enough, the idea of contacting him brought nothing but guilt to your chest. 

It’s a dilemma as it is; you don’t want your parents to know. Whatever’s left of you, whatever’s left of hope that things would get worse before they become better — you muster up your courage and drive to your parents, ready with an excuse that Jungkook’s busy so he couldn’t come. 

To your utter surprise, his car’s already parked outside the shop. 

“Ah! There you are. Jungkook told us you’d be a little late because you’re exhausted from work,” your mom greets you enthusiastically the moment your entrance rings the door’s windchimes, being caught into a hug instantly.

The mention of your husband reminds you that he’s there, in the flesh, just a few feet away from you. The greetings you have for your parents are lost on your tongue when your eyes land on him, heart clinching at the site.

Jungkook looks more exhausted than you do, eyes puffy with bags underneath. He looks unrecognizable that your parents fussed over him immediately when he arrived, but he waved them off saying it was just a shit ton of MSG from the night before and his allergies.

“Hi, baby,” he greets you normally in front of your parents, slinging a warm hand around your waist and leans down to press a kiss to your cheek.

Jungkook almost brings himself to tears just by holding you, a harmless kiss to your cheek enough to make him tremble. It makes you do the same yet you don’t recoil, instead basking in the momentary warmth he indulges you in.

You’re stricken but you act on it, doing the same as you return the kiss on his cheek. 

“What time did you come here? I didn’t notice you leaving the bed,” you smiled, voice hoarse as you play it up.

Jungkook catches on immediately and although he swore he feels heavily hurt without relief just earlier, the weight of his heartache lessens.

“You’re a heavy sleeper,” he smiles, the genuine grin on his face enough to distract you from his cheeks that were reddened from crying. “Left at six in the morning so I could give mom and dad an early start.”

“She sleeps like a rock,” your dad comments, slinging an arm around your husband’s shoulders. “Have I ever told you that she slept through an earthquake?”

“That’s one of my favorite stories of her,” Jungkook quips, smiling in recall. It’s true — your dad told you about the incident in their first meeting, right at the dinner table of your childhood home. You were embarrassed infinitely but seeing Jungkook, despite being a fresh boyfriend at the time, break into a hearty laugh was enough to make you think you wanted to spend the rest of your life hearing it.

The shop’s already covered off, sections portioned off for some workers who were bound to start soon. There’s tape and plastic wrap all over the place, the disarray apparent from floor to ceiling.

While your dad whisks Jungkook away and leads the way to the room you’re all gonna work on, your mom intertwines her arm around yours, faux-dramatically inserting herself to the conversation.

“Works all day and sleeps all night. You’re leaving Jungkook all alone! How do you even talk?”

It’s entertaining to see your parents love your husband above and beyond, even now that they come to his defense and they turn you, their actual child, as the butt of their teasing.

“Don’t worry mom, I understand. Y/N’s really hardworking, she deserves to sleep like a rock,” Jungkook answers, adding in a bit that makes your parents cackle. “I just talk to her while she’s asleep.”

“You sleep through that too?” your dad asks you in disbelief, shaking his head at you while interacting with Jungkook more.

You look at your husband and while his aura feels significantly lighter than when you first glanced at him awhile ago, while his eyes are kind and playful, you know that he’s being serious. You can’t confirm it for a fact that he does talk to you in your sleep, but looking at him now, you have all the affirmation you need.

“I... I-I do.”

Your parents leave momentarily to get the paint they’ve stuck away specifically for this room, leaving you and Jungkook alone.

There’s so much you have to say. So much you want to ask and explain but no words leave you besides a pathetic admission from just this morning, mouth coming dry when the two of you make eye contact.

“I wasn’t sure you’d be here.”

“Why wouldn’t I be here?” Jungkook furrows his brows, genuinely confused.

He wants to say a lot of things, so much of it that he couldn’t contain himself last night. No matter how he itches to talk to you about all of it that’s been plaguing his mind, no words leave him because he’s derailed too by the sudden train of thought.

“I’m your husband,” he says it with no space for questioning, eyes flickering to why you’d even wonder such a thing. “That makes me their son-in-law.”

You want to be alone with Jungkook for longer but your parents arrive and suddenly, the two of you are no longer staring at each other with white hot pain behind your eyes.

The tension dissipates but the desperation grows at each second your issues are left unresolved, another one piling just when the both of you thought you’ve gotten over the worse of it.

“We’ve heard the news, by the way,” your mom opens, huffing as she hands each one of you your paint rollers. “Those silly, nothing-to-do-with-their-life writers!”

Your dad sighs now that your mom reminded him of it, shaking his head in disdain. “They manipulated the pictures, right? I’m sure that Yoongi guy respects your boundaries as a married woman.”

You freeze at the very spot you stand, shoulder stiff and a dry sob stuck on your throat. You try to get yourself out of your rigidness by nodding your head, gulping the lump in your throat when you feel Jungkook’s stare at you.

As much as Yoongi initiated to put his head on your shoulder, you let him.

“Yeah.”

Your parents don’t pick up on anything, perhaps because you act too good that you’re undetectable to everyone but your husband — someone who sees right through you, right at this moment.

“What’s the plan then? Will your companies release an announcement or...?”

“The plan is to not address it at all. That’s what Jimin said,” you clear your throat, taking out the fuzz from your roller.

“It’s the safest option,” you stress, glancing at Jungkook who doesn’t break his sight on you. “Yoongi and I just continue... acting that way and let people say whatever.”

Your parents show different reactions, audible hums and grunts filling the room.

“It’s the safest because it’ll be beneficial in case Yoongi gets in a relationship with someone else. Or if in case I admit that I’m married,” you smile at the last part, chewing on your bottom lip. “We could just say that Yoongi and I are close friends.”

“I guess that does work,” your dad relents, albeit evidently unsure with how his face scrunches. “But wouldn’t that be a little grey? A little unfair, don’t you think?” he prods, scratching his temple. 

“Right, Jungkook?”

Jungkook freezes at being addressed, lips bitten red in anxiousness.

“Show business will always be show business, I guess,” he offers your dad a weak smile, adjusting his wedding ring before rubbing the base of his thumb to try and calm himself. “Nothing will ever be fair.”

“Gets really annoying when Yoongi tries to steal your wife away, no?” your mom teases, the suddenness of the name drop and the context in this situation just adding more tension.

Jungkook clenches his jaw automatically, gripping his roller a little too roughly while he grimaces at the thought. “Yeah, that too. Really gets on my nerves, honestly.” 

Your parents don’t know the levels to how Jungkook is completely serious right now, just a couple mentions of your co-star away from absolutely losing it.

He tries to calm himself, grounding his hurt into a truth he prays to never change.

Four seconds. Breathe in through your nose.

Seven seconds. Hold it.

Eight seconds. Exhale through your mouth.

“But I trust Y/N completely. I trust her with my life — I always have,” your husband smiles, briefly glancing at you.

He doesn’t look at you bitterly. He’s not mad at you; in fact, he still thinks you reserve the greater right to be mad at him.

The bitterness isn’t what puts the lump in Jungkook’s throat, it’s insecurity. It’s insecurity that makes the latter part of his answer delayed, far too caught up in the hurt in his heart before it travels up his throat.

“I always will.”

#two more chapters n we’re done .... how r we feeling :O #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook fic recs

[chandralia]

“mha isn’t a bl, it’s not a gl” well the boys certainly love the boys, and the girls most definitely love the girls…. SO!

#there’s literally nothing else to say ! #you can already imagine what homophobes have been saying so take that and amplify it by 100 because it’s THAT BAD rn #THAT’S HOW SCARED THEY’VE GOTTEN WITH JUST THESE TWO CHAPTERS #if they’re so secure in their ship they wouldn’t care… but they’re genuinely terrified things won’t go their way AND IT’S SO FUNNY #mha 394 #togachako #bkdk #dkbk #bakudeku #dekubaku #:’)

[whatthefuckisasweep]

I really love @gloomy-prince​ ‘s trans Eddie comic so so so so fucking much. ITS SOOOO SOO well crafted and wholesome and always makes me smile or like gasp in some way everytime it updates

SOOOO I drew a lil fanart of the AU with Richie being silly right after the haircut because FUCK I love to imagine how supportive and cute all the losers would be with eddie, esp richie.... MY HEARTTTTTT !!!

ALT TEXT: a drawing of trans eddie with his hair short, having just been cut by richie. richie is behind him holding two strands of cut hair above his lip as if it is a mustache. he is smiling wide and saying “HOI. OIM MISTAH EDWARD K!!” while eddie rolls his eyes playfully and tries not to smile. 

also. READ MORE FOR A BONUS COMIC BUT BE WARNED MY COMIC SKILLS ARE LACKING 

stan has to do it all himself in the end, as was richie’s intention XDDD

ALT TEXT: a 6 panel comic. In the first panel, richie and eddie are laying in the hammock, with eddie reading a comic book and richie just relaxing. In the second panel, there are “huffs” and “hrks” that are heard by richie. He looks over. In the third panel, stan is carrying a big box that says “bird books” and also a grocery bag. He looks tired. He says, “can one of you lazy fucks help me?” In the fourth panel, richie smiles and looks at stan. He says “You heard em eds, use them big man musk-les!” Eddie glances up from his book. In the fifth panel, eddie angrily throws his comic book at richie and says, “JUST BECAUSE YOU FOUND OUT IM A DUDE DOES NOT GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO GIVE ME ALL THE WORK, ASSHOLE!”. Richie goes, “LMAOOO”. In the sixth and final panel, Stan is still carrying his stuff and he looks annoyed as all hell. He’s squinting angrily. Meanwhile, richie and eddie argue off screen through speech bubbles.  “well idk I think it does!” “it does NOT!” “I mean... look, you’re strong enough!” “It’s NOT ABOUT being STRONG!” 

#IT #it movie #it 2017 #it 2019 #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #stan uris #stanley uris #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2 #trans eddie au #my art #ok so anyways this au is like rotting my brain #because its so real #also its just so fucking cute. and cathartic to imagine #im so sorry my handwriting is atrocious #FUCK #i just love imagining the different ANNOYING but WHOLESOME ways richie would affirm eddies gender #we love these two #reddie #but fr gloomy your au is fucking seratoninc fuel chefs KISS

[deiaiko]

#18.1 Rak

Rak let out a huff and sat down next to Agni. Agni peeked over at Rak, who was looking far ahead, as if his past were replaying right before him.

TW: Self harm and suicide…in a way? (Sorry if it gets too dark. I put the TLDR on the tags)

Masterlist

Previous

Next

☕ Buy me coffee ☕

"I met him back when I was young, about a hundred years ago," Rak started.

Agni was taken aback at how long the gap between their time travel was. He wondered how much his Rak had changed.

"It was getting cold, which meant it was hunting season. I got bored and picked a fight with the toughest and biggest prey I could find."

Agni hummed when Rak paused for a moment too long, "Let me guess. You underestimated it and you lost?"

"The river was slippery!" Rak crossed his arms defensively. "And I didn't lose!"

"Sure," Agni rolled his eyes, one corner of his lips upturned. "How come?"

"I didn't lose, but I didn’t win either." Rak looked away, probably in embarrassment. "Another spear pierced its head before mine. That's when I met him."

From the way Rak's expression turned fiery, Agni had a suspicion that that exact moment had affected Rak more than what he spilled out. It didn't surprise him however, since he knew Rak’s ego.

"He was around for a while, acting like he cared about me." Rak huffed again, more fondly this time, eyes closed and arms still crossed. "He taught me a few fancy tricks with rocks and how to hunt better. He talked a lot about turtle this and turtle that. There were so many, I don't remember. But Black and Blue turtles were the ones he talked about the most, saying something like 'no one else will be more worthy prey than them.'"

Agni felt his chest tighten. To think that their Rak had acknowledged them and even bragged about it…it filled him with a sense of pride and longing.

"I didn't believe him then, since turtles are boring and no way they could do what he said they could." Rak paused and untangled his arms, eyes focusing and turning predatory, "But when he said that these turtles were unlike what we had there, I have been wanting to meet those turtles he told me about and hunt them."

Rak's story was intriguing. But even if it flattered him, Agni was more curious about his Rak's whereabouts. "What happened to him then? Wasn't he…badly injured?"

Rak frowned and went silent. But when he found his voice, it lacked its previous vigor. "He was. It looked fresh and so impossible to walk with, but he did. I asked if it was painful, but he said he didn’t feel a thing."

Third-degree burn. Agni thought to himself. But there was no way it spread evenly. Some areas must've been painful.

"He definitely lied," Rak voiced Agni's thought. "He was just acting to look tough."

The edge of Agni's lips twitched in an attempt to suppress his smile. That's him alright. And of course Rak could figure his own self easily. 

"One day he challenged me in an all out duel," Rak's gaze turned dark. "His wounds had weakened him over the months, and it was obvious who would be the winner."

Agni frowned at the implication.

Wordlessly, Rak called out his arms inventory which held a familiar looking spear that shouldn't have been in his possession at this point in time. Agni would recognize that design anywhere, "...Mad shocker."

"He said he wanted to test me, and he gave me this." Rak glared at the spear as if it was responsible for his misfortune. "And later told me that I should be proud, for only a true hunter was allowed to defeat him."

Agni felt his throat going dry, and gulped. "He died, didn't he?"

Rak's eyes sharpened. Whether it was in regret or anger, Agni couldn't tell. "I killed him." 

Agni didn't know what to feel about that. On one hand, he could empathize with how much pain Rak must've felt from the injury, especially with the lack of proper treatment that could cure or even just lessen the pain. But on the other hand, it meant that his Rak was truly gone, in such a way, and he still couldn't wrap his head around it.

Rak put his pipe back to invisible mode, like looking at it had brought him so much grief. "I've never used that spear since."

The silence stretched, with only the loud noises coming from the training ground to fill it. Agni wasn't sure how to reply to that without being overly friendly nor physical, and he definitely wouldn't do that to Rak, who only met him today.

Sitting beside Rak like this reminded him of their chat before the workshop battle, on the balcony. It was when Rak truly let him see his buried feelings, his desire to climb the tower together with him and Grace. And with that, the grief finally started to dawn on him. The scar on his face felt itchy and his hand was already clawing at his mask before he registered the motion. He sighed and put his hand back on his knee, pushing the tangled feeling to the back of his mind to be dealt with later. And since the silence had stretched out for too long, he asked; "What was he to you?"

"A rival," Rak looked thoughtful before adding, "and family."

Masterlist

Previous

Next

Let me know your thoughts in the reblogs <3

☕ Buy me coffee ☕

#TLDR: current Rak was good friends with Agni's Rak #They met about a century before current Rak entered the tower #Future Rak is dead #--end of TLDR-- #I do love Rak. but this is the price he must pay for being one of my favorites #ok but did you know that spear inventory is called pipe? i was surprised too #to everyone who was excited last week for future rak comeback...I'm not sorry #it was very entertaining to see your comments (and imagining the despair) hahaha. I thank you for that #anyway. life been very hectic right now. i consider taking a break after valentine update to stock up some chapters #i barely have time to write now. let alone drawing #I'd rather keep my weekly updates than posting once a month. Lest you forget the story and had to reread previous chapter(s) eachtime #tower of god #tog #two sides of the same coin fic #my fic #my art #khun #koon #khun a.a #khun aguero agnis #rak wraithraiser #rak

[saraanzu]

bsd speculation: what’s up with this girl in bram’s flashback from 107.5, and what can we learn about her from dracula?

(prefacing this with some rambling… actual analysis starts after the readmore)

107.5 came out the same day as the s5 trailer and it was right after an exciting mersault chapter which is the vastly more popular pov and it was a whopping 9 pages - it was bound to be disliked. I won’t pretend a 9-page chapter isn’t disappointing (no idea why recent chapters have been so short - I hope they get a bit longer again when s5 is done airing?) and I think it’s fine to prefer the mersault storyline but I’ve also seen some god-awful takes about this chapter.

aya and bram aren’t side characters! they have been core to bsd’s plot ever since their introductions (in aya’s case, her re-introduction) and you can dislike them all you want but it’s objectively incorrect to claim they aren’t important to the story.

I also don’t agree with the take that 107.5 didn’t further the plot at all - obviously not a lot can happen in, again, 9 pages (that’s 1/3 the length of 107!) but aya deciding to remove bram’s sword and him actually encouraging her to do it even when he doesn’t believe it’s possible and previously told her not to is a huge turning point in the story! 107.5 certainly isn’t a favorite of mine but I will say we’ve had (slightly) longer chapters in recent months that had more exposition and setup with less plot.

I’ve seen some people worry that, because bram pictures someone who looks like aya in what’s presumably a wedding dress, bram and aya’s relationship is going in a creepy direction. I want to make it clear that no matter who this flashback girl is, even if she’s bram’s dead lover and/or aya in a previous life, I highly highly doubt that anything weird is going to happen between bram and aya. their relationship hasn’t been set up like that at all, in fact bram has parallels with aya’s father and he explicitly sees her as a child (more on that later) (look. bsd is not above using some Weird Tropes. in particular, the tanizakis and mori come to mind (and in mori’s case, it doesn’t even really function as a reference to the irl author - vitas sexualis has nothing to do with pedophillia!) but it’s important to mention that, while I wish those tropes weren’t in bsd at all because they’re unnecessary and add nothing of value to the characters, they are ultimately gags and nothing more. they don’t really set a precedent for how weird asagiri is willing to get when it comes to legitimately serious plot points.)

okay! got it all out of my system here’s the actual post

part 1: the dress

personally, when I first read 107.5, I didn’t think this girl was in a wedding dress. my initial assumption was “this must be bram’s daughter, she’s wearing some sort of tiara and bram was a nobleman”. but looking at it again, it does resemble one, and we should consider how bram’s backstory might reference dracula.

“the brides of dracula” are three seductive vampire ladies who live in count dracula’s castle and attempt to feed on jonathan harker early on in the book before being stopped by dracula, who chastises them for trying to eat harker and feeds them a human baby instead.

while they are known as dracula’s brides in pop culture and are often portrayed as such in movie adaptations, they go unnamed in the original novel and their relation to dracula is unclear. from what we see of them they refer to each other as “sisters”, although perhaps not in the literal sense. two of them have dark hair and are described as having similar facial features to dracula while the third is blonde, which may imply the third is dracula’s wife and the other two are his daughters. I imagine they’re pretty vague and mysterious on purpose, they could be dracula’s wives/sisters/daughters, or even just some vampire ladies crashing at his house.

however, I don’t think we should disregard details exclusive to adaptations of dracula and only focus on the original book when thinking about bsd. film adaptations of the book are actually more influential on dracula’s perception in pop-culture than the book itself, so it’s not unlikely that asagiri would reference elements that appeared in adaptations but not the novel.

so, because of “the brides of dracula”, I think it’s quite possible this girl is indeed a bride. she does look a bit young for it, but I’ve seen others say they think she looks older than aya, so I guess that’s subjective (and people would get married younger in bram’s time I suppose).

that doesn’t mean she has to be bram’s bride - again, the “brides” in the original novel have no explicit relation to dracula and could easily be his daughters or sisters, and I really do think her being his daughter instead makes more sense thematically.

part 2: her relation to bram

I believe bram subtly parallels aya’s father in a few ways. aya’s dad is verbally and physically abusive, and he berates aya for not being good at traditionally feminine activities. he doesn’t see her for what she is, a child, and instead expects her to be a perfect traditional woman.

right before we see this flashback, bram is surprised by aya’s age, and comments that she is “too young to even use a spinning wheel” (also a traditionally feminine activity). both of them question aya’s desire/ability to be an ally of justice but for different reasons: aya’s father finds it unladylike while bram finds it too big a task for a little girl (he is also sleepy)

I didn’t understand the point of this scene’s inclusion before, but in retrospect I think it serves as foreshadowing for bram’s flashback and demonstrates how he and aya’s father both associate aya with dead people, but this causes them to treat her differently.

aya will never live up to her father’s expectations because she can’t compete with his idealized memories of the dead. her own accomplishments are irrelevant in his eyes because she isn’t enough like the wife and daughter he lost. I suspect his grief is part of the reason he’s so horrible to her in the first place.

it’s the opposite case with bram. in his eyes aya does compare to someone who he remembers fondly, and the end of 107.5 implies that’s the very reason he’s okay with aya pulling the sword out.

I don’t necessarily see bram as a father figure to aya (to me he’s more of a weird creature who’s sort of grown fond of her after being unwillingly dragged around… but hey, who says that can’t be a dad?) but I do think it’s possible that this mystery girl was bram’s daughter in the past because of how he parallels aya’s father.

(note: she has normal human ears rather than pointy ones, but bram was turned into a vampire by his ability and wasn’t bitten or born as one, so I don’t know if he’d necessarily pass down his vampirism to his children. he also may have developed his ability after becoming a father, or his daughter could even be adopted).

part 3: her relation to aya

the most common idea I’ve seen to explain the resemblance between these two is that aya is a reincarnation of this flashback girl. introducing reincarnation out of nowhere seems a bit random even for bsd, but surprisingly this theory does have some basis.

in the movie bram stoker’s dracula (1992), the character mina harker, jonathan’s fiancé, is a reincarnation of dracula’s long-dead lover, elisabeta. dracula recognizes her as a reincarnation due to their resemblance and mina agrees to assist him, still harboring feelings and memories from her past life. it’s fairly common for dracula adaptations to portray dracula and/or mina as having romantic feelings for each other, but this isn’t really the case in the novel, and elisabeta is entirely an invention of this particular movie.

so, aya being a reincarnation of a girl bram once knew could work as a reference to this. I did say previously that I think it’s possible asagiri will reference adaptations of dracula and not just the novel, but I’m not so sure he would make something specific to one particular adaptation a major part of bram’s backstory.

personally, I’m partial to the idea that aya’s ability will be introduced soon, and her resemblance to this flashback girl may have something to do with it. (the ability idea and reincarnation idea aren’t inherently contradictory, aya’s ability could very well be reincarnation)

this theory by @jo-dieeee suggests that aya’s ability is called mirror, due to the discussion of mirrors in 107.5 and the book above.

mirror: the fiction and essays of koda aya isn’t actually a book written by irl koda, nor is it just a collection of her stories. it was written by ann sherif and discusses koda’s life and works, including some translations of her short stories in the second part. however, the existence of this book and aya emphasizing mirrors in 107.5 is quite an interesting coincidence! whether or not it’s called mirror, I’m fairly confident an ability reveal is coming up.

it’s also worth bringing up that aya’s resemblance to this mystery firl might not have a supernatural explanation at all. it could easily be an artistic choice simply made to indicate that bram is reminiscing about someone who aya reminds him of. I’m not too into the reincarnation idea myself.

#I’m assuming the panel is a flashback and not bram’s imagination of the future because the caption at the end of the chapter says “remember” #hoping to start making meta posts like this more often… it’s difficult for me to put my thoughts like this into words though #I wrote this post over the course of a week hence why it’s two weeks late #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #aya koda #bram stoker #aya bsd #bram bsd #talk tag #jo’s meta

[mari-lair]

Hello, good evening, how are you? Quick question, have you already saw that Aidairo is making a new Christmas event? (at least something good after the last chapter 🤦🏻‍♀️🥲) it seems like it will be fun and cute (I am almost burstling in happiness because there will be, at least, something about Aoikane (they didn't even really interact in this arc, I am missing them together)

I SAW IT, I SAW IT! I woke up with this sketch on their account!!

Aoi is so cute! LOOK AT HEEEER!!

AND I HAVEN'T SEEN AKANE THIS BLUSHY SINCE HE WAS 12!

#It truly is a blessing after the last chapter #unrelated but if they are this blushy. Can you imagine how the two would explode if the 'give yourself as the present' option had won?? #the CRUMBS!! #I am eating them like a starved animal #tbhk #toilet bound hanako kun #aoikane #aoiaoi #jshk #jibaku shounen hanako kun #Very happy akane got the glasses in the santa au cause i love his human form with glasses can i get an amen