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#this has been my dream probably since i saw
ivantillz · 2 days
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kiss me;
ivantill, 8.7k read on ao3
For a second he just stood there dumbly, eyes wide open. He heard a gasp from the side then a whispered, “I thought they weren’t actually supposed to kiss here?” Till hadn’t prepared himself for this, but he knew he couldn’t risk ruining the scene even more. Eyelashes fluttering, he closed his eyes and cupped Ivan’s face, kissing him back with fervor.
Till couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Surely he had misheard, or maybe he hadn’t actually woken up this morning and he was still dreaming.
His manager looked as real as ever, though, staring at him with a hint of knowing amusement. He couldn’t stand her sometimes. (He loved her.)
“I thought you’d be excited,” she sighed dramatically, crossing her arms. “I guess maybe we should consider pulling out of the movie and – ”
His hand jerked out without his permission, fast as lightning, grabbing her arm. “Don’t even joke about that, Mizi.”
Her answering grin was all teeth. “They’ll want to do a chemistry read, first,” she put her hand over his. “Don’t get too excited. Nothing is guaranteed yet.”
For all they knew, he wouldn’t even get cast. Or if he did, maybe they’d kick Till off the project and replace him if their chemistry wasn’t promising enough. He really hoped it would be. But either way, he would be meeting him.
Till felt himself grinning before he could stop it, “I’m meeting Ivan.”
-
Till couldn’t recall the exact moment he discovered Ivan. To be fair, most people probably couldn’t. He was everywhere, it seemed – commercials, movies, television, even music videos.
What he could recall – as clear as if it’d happened yesterday – was the feeling he had felt. It was like a dam had opened and there was no stopping it. He realized he wanted more out of life.
He didn’t just want to continue being an extra on every set, the side-character who was killed off after one or two episodes.
Since then, he’d been able to build a decent name for himself. He wasn’t Ivan, by any means, but he was well-known enough to get the lead in an upcoming highly anticipated movie. And if the universe smiled upon him, just one last time, he would hopefully get to have Ivan as his love interest.
-
“I am running on exactly two hours of sleep, by the way.”
Mizi snorted, side-eyeing him. “I can tell,” she teased, and he knew it was just that: a joke but he still couldn’t help the sudden rush of insecurity.
As if sensing it by some form of magic, she slowed to a stop in the hallway and took his arm.
“You look great, Till. You haven’t even gotten makeup done yet and you still look amazing.” She squeezed his arm. “You’ve got this, you know that, right?”
He forced a smile. “Don’t you know confidence is my middle name?”
And usually it was true. If there was one thing he had over most of his competition in the industry, it was overflowing confidence.
Mizi smiled back, far more sincere. “Come on,” she said, tugging him along gently. “We don’t want to be late.”
-
Before the chemistry read, he went to get his makeup done as scheduled. Hyuna was no better than Mizi, grinning wildly as she gently applied a bit of concealer under his eyes.
“Let me guess,” she said, “didn’t sleep much?”
Till rolled his eyes, but made sure not to move. “I wonder if every actor has such a nosy makeup artist or is it just me?”
“Hmm, I would say you’re just lucky.” She winked and stepped back. “You look good enough to eat.”
He snorted. If he wasn’t so nervous underneath it all, he might’ve cracked a joke. Like how the only person he wanted to eat him was —
The door swung open, startling him. “Come on – ” he relaxed when he saw it was just Mizi. “We only have a few minutes.”
Quickly stumbling out of the chair, he rushed to her side and followed her into the hallway. As they walked toward the room set aside for their scheduled chemistry read, Mizi looked him up and down, not even trying to be discreet. Till made sure no one was around before quietly flipping her off.
Couldn’t tarnish his reputation and all that.
She giggled, light and airy. “I was just going to say,” she bumped their shoulders together, gentle, “you look good. Don’t let anything bring you down, okay?”
And he knew it wasn’t just empty words; Mizi had been there for him since the start of his career, long before he’d managed to actually make a name for himself. She’d been there with open arms (and an extra large pizza) every time he’d been turned down from a role, every time a casting director had scoffed like he was hilarious for even thinking he had a chance.
It had been hard, then, but motivating. He never wanted to be underestimated ever again. He thought he’d never feel so scared again, walking toward an audition room. It was a pointless fear. He had joked but surely they wouldn’t actually try to kick him out, even if the chemistry read wasn’t a success.
“Break a leg,” Mizi whispered just as they stopped in front of the door.
Till could hear voices through the wood. He concentrated and tried to see if he could pick out Ivan’s voice, in the sea of them, but he wasn’t sure if he could trust himself. He thought he heard him, a familiar drawl he had heard on television a million times, but he could’ve just been imagining it.
Mizi glanced at him, a silent question. He just nodded.
Without another word between them, she turned and opened the door.
-
Till didn’t even realize he’d been holding his breath as his eyes scanned the room: it was all the usual people – the casting director sat at the table with two other staff members on each side, a few other stray staff members were scattered around the room.
In the middle of all of them was Ivan.
He was smiling politely as others talked to him, a small quirk of his mouth. Till must’ve stared for a second too long because suddenly Ivan was lifting his head and their eyes met.
Till had seen him a hundred times, at least, through a screen but he wasn’t sure anything could’ve prepared him for this moment.
For seeing him, here, like this, in real life. Ivan was even more stunning in person.
Ivan’s smile stretched just a little wider, barely noticeable. Till should’ve smiled back but he felt like he was frozen.
“Okay,” the casting director – Luka – stood up from the table. “From what I’ve been told, this is your first time meeting, correct?”
Till didn’t even realize he was addressing them until Mizi gave a gentle nudge at his side. He flushed, standing a little taller. He might’ve been meeting his idol, for lack of a better word, but he was still a professional.
“Yes,” he answered, cursing the slight shake to his voice.
Ivan nodded. “I’ve seen him plenty, of course, but never met, no.”
Till felt a shiver down his spine. Ivan. Ivan had seen him before, too, which shouldn’t have been surprising. He had been on a number of notable series by now, but for some reason he still hadn’t been prepared to hear it.
“Wonderful,” Luka said, “Everyone – ” He did a little twirl with his finger, making a point to address everyone in the room. “Out.”
Till knew the process by now. Luka’s process, at least. He could be a little unorthodox. Usually he didn’t mind it, but right now he was already starting to feel sweat pool at the small of his back.
Mizi let out a tiny huff of amusement as she helped to herd everyone out of the room. Last to go was Luka, who didn’t even say a word before closing the door.
If Ivan was confused, he didn’t voice it. For a moment, the room was silent with just the two of them.
“Sorry,” Till said eventually, clearing his throat. He dared a glance in Ivan’s direction; he was standing just a few feet away, a thoughtful quirk to his head. “Luka can be a bit, uh. Unorthodox in his methods. He always likes to give actors a few minutes by themselves before starting the read.”
He was proud of himself; his voice was steady and clear.
Ivan hummed, but still didn’t say anything. Till took advantage of the moment to really look Ivan over. He was beautiful; dark hair swept back with a few loose strands, eyes lined with black – not too much, just enough to somehow make his dark eyes look even darker, his lips shined with a thin layer of gloss, skin clear and perfect.
The way his mouth was twisted, Till could even see his fang. Not literal, of course, it was just his canine – especially sharp and pronounced – but it had always been one of his selling points that fans seemed to like.
He looked like he was conjured up in a lab somehow.
And Till, well. He wasn’t naive. He knew he was attractive – wouldn’t have gotten this far in the industry if he wasn’t – but he felt lacking compared to Ivan, more than he had in a long time.
Without thinking, he reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tame it. But the wild look was part of his appeal, Hyuna had always said. Made him stand out.
“Are you going to keep staring at me or actually introduce yourself?”
Till startled, yanking his hand out of his hair hard enough he winced a little. He opened his mouth, ready to apologize, but then he saw Ivan was smiling. Barely, really, more like a smirk.
Clearing his throat, he wiped his hands off on his jeans in what he hoped was a discreet move (he was still sweating like crazy) and stepped forward. “Why should I introduce myself when you apparently already know my name?”
He froze as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He was so stupid.
This was Ivan – the Ivan – and here he was already messing everything up because he never quite knew when to shut his mouth. He waited, expecting the worst. He wouldn’t have even been surprised if he’d pushed him out of the way and stormed out of the room.
But instead Ivan did the complete opposite. He gave a little laugh, eyes crinkling just a little around the edges. Till felt something warm blossom in the pit of his stomach.
“I haven’t had someone talk to me like that in, well, ages.” His eyes were still sparkling when he finally stopped laughing. He extended a hand. Till moved quickly before he could think too hard and just make himself more nervous. Ivan’s hand was warm, smooth.
Till knew his own hands weren’t nearly as smooth, from playing guitar. It was just a hobby he had picked up on the side, nothing more, but his hands still suffered for it.
“You must play an instrument,” Ivan said, startling him. For a moment, he wondered if he’d accidentally spoken his thoughts but then Ivan tilted his head. “Guitar?”
Till swallowed around the lump in his throat; Ivan’s thumb gently moved over his knuckles, once, fleeting, before he was pulling away. Maybe he’d imagined it. “Yeah. Um. Just a hobby.”
“I would love to hear you play, if ever given the chance,” Ivan said. Normally, Till would’ve brushed it off as empty words but there was something oddly sincere about the way he said it.
He dropped his gaze, focusing on the collar of Ivan’s shirt. Anything to make sure he didn’t keep staring at his face. “Yeah. Sure.”
Before he – or Ivan – could say anything else, the door was opened without even a knock. Till spun around as Luka entered the room followed by the rest of the staff and finally Mizi alongside a woman he didn’t quite recognize. He wondered if she was part of staff and somehow he had just never noticed her until now.
That question was answered quickly when she went to Ivan’s side. “You’ve totally got this,” she said, hushed but just loud enough Till could hear.
He wondered if that was true. Didn’t want to get his hopes up.
“Okay, since I’ve given you both more than enough time to get acquainted.” Luka nodded at the scripts on the table. “Go ahead.”
Till forced his hand to not shake as he reached out and grabbed his version of the script; the part they’d be rehearsing, today, had been highlighted. It wasn’t too long. He just had to get through the scene without any mistakes.
He skimmed through it quickly, saw Ivan doing the same, even though they had both already read the script. Ivan, possibly only one or twice, but Till had read it nearing a dozen times.
So how did he manage to forget what happened at the end?
They didn’t kiss, not in this scene, but they almost did and that was enough to have Till suddenly rethinking everything. You’re a professional, he reminded himself, and tried to believe it.
He had certainly kissed plenty of people on set by now but admittedly he had never found any of them quite as alluring as Ivan.
Still, this was a chance to prove himself. He wouldn’t let that get in the way of doing his job properly.
“We don’t have all day,” Luka said, as impatient as ever.
Till resisted the urge to glare at him and simply set the script aside; it wasn’t frowned upon to read from the script during chemistry reads, of course, but he had the entire thing memorized already.
Ivan probably hadn’t been able to memorize it in such a short time but Till was surprised to find he set his script aside as well. He was always called an acting prodigy by media, the best the industry had seen in ages, and it seemed like it went beyond just a good performance on screen.
They both stepped closer to each other, waited until Luka gave the final nod.
All jokes aside, Till really was a professional. He felt like he was a different person when he got into character. Immediately he felt his eyes start to sting, his bottom lip tremble a little.
“You lied to me,” he said, voice thick with emotion.
It was surprisingly easy to look Ivan in the eyes all of a sudden. Ivan stared back just as intensely, reached for his hands. He held them, loose and gentle. “You know I didn’t have a choice.”
Till jerked his hands away. “But you promised me.”
“I know, I know,” Ivan’s eyes were glossy too, brimming with so much emotion Till had to remind himself they were acting. He couldn’t remember ever having to do that before. “But I need you to trust me, okay?”
Till swallowed. “I – I don’t know if I can,” he whispered, just loud enough for Luka and the others to hear.
Ivan frowned, looking thoughtful for a moment. “How can I convince you to trust me?”
He opened his mouth, closed it, cursed himself because – he’d fucking forgotten the line. How could he have forgotten the line? He dared a quick glance at Luka, who was watching him with slightly narrowed eyes.
He was so screwed. Ivan was definitely getting the role, no doubt, but not before Till was probably kicked off the project.
And now he was so nervous he was shaking a little, hopefully not enough to be noticed by Luka and the others but there was no hiding it from Ivan, as close as he was.
So much for being a professional.
Maybe it would be better just to get it over with and admit his mistake, take whatever consequences would follow, even if that meant being kicked off the project. Even if it meant not getting to work with Ivan.
But as soon as he opened his mouth, Ivan surged forward and kissed him.
For a second he just stood there dumbly, eyes wide open. He heard a gasp from the side then a whispered, “I thought they weren’t actually supposed to kiss here?”
The only thing that followed was silence, but Till knew the answer; he might’ve forgotten his line but he still remembered how the scene ended – Ivan’s hand on his neck, thumb stroking his jaw as he begged him for one more chance.
Not a kiss, but something close. The actual kiss came far later in the script.
Till hadn’t prepared himself for this, but he knew he couldn’t risk ruining the scene even more. Eyelashes fluttering, he closed his eyes and cupped Ivan’s face, kissing him back with fervor.
It was like something out of his wildest dreams but also not at all.
After a few seconds, he dared to open his eyes, surprised to find Ivan already staring back at him.
Suddenly Ivan was pulling away, turning toward Luka. “Sorry, I got a bit carried away.”
Till licked his lips, flushed when he realized what he’d done and quickly pursed his lips into a thin line to ignore the urge to do it again.
“Well,” Luka looked torn between amusement and annoyance, “I supposed you were going to kiss him eventually one way or another.”
Till blinked as the words settled. “Wait, you mean – ”
“Don’t get too excited,” he interrupted, already standing, “but you should be optimistic.” Weirdly, he said it while staring at Till like he was the one auditioning for the spot, not Ivan. There was no way he knew, right? Or maybe he was letting him know he was going to be kind enough to ignore his obvious mistake. “We’ll call you once we’ve discussed it and made a final decision.”
Till watched as Luka left with the staff, not even giving them a glance back. For once, he was thankful to be ignored.
Once they were gone, Mizi rushed to his side. “Are you okay?” she asked, side-eyeing Ivan skeptically.
He appreciated her concern, as always, but he was fine. If kissing strangers was an issue for him, he probably would’ve picked a different career path, but even those kisses were usually planned for and this wasn’t, which was jarring, yes, but he wasn’t upset.
Ivan’s manager was at his side, too, looking at him with disapproval. Till wondered how often he did unexpected stuff like that.
Finally he brushed her off and stepped forward, closer to Till. Mizi pursed her lips but didn’t intervene; she really was the perfect manager for him.
“I apologize,” he said, giving a slight bow. “I shouldn’t have done that without warning, but…”
He trailed off, and Mizi finally spoke, “But?”
But Till already knew the answer. Ivan smiled, but it wasn’t mean. “You forgot your line,” he said. It wasn’t a question. Mizi startled, glancing at the script still laid out on the table. “An honest mistake. I didn’t want you getting chided for it, and I thought it’d work as a good enough distraction.”
It certainly had. Till could still feel the press of his lips – plush, but just a little dry.
“You did that for Till?” Mizi asked, sounding skeptical. Till couldn’t blame her; people in the industry rarely looked out for each other like that, nevertheless strangers.
Ivan nodded, his smile growing just a little wider. “I guess you could say I’m intrigued.” He extended a hand and Till took a second too long to move, realizing his intent. Ivan squeezed his hand. “I look forward to working together.”
Till envied his confidence. Technically, nothing was confirmed yet. But even he knew it wasn’t up in the air. Luka just liked making people sweat.
“Me too,” he said.
-
“Did you see Ivan’s manager?” Mizi asked the next day. Shooting wouldn’t start for a few weeks but she came over often just to hang out.
Till blinked. “The girl with the, uh, blue hair and piercing stare?”
He didn’t miss the way her mouth twitched, forming a smile for only a second. “Yeah.”
Till had recognized that smile, however brief. He looked back to the television. “You should go for it.”
“Wh – what?” she stammered, nearly spilling their bowl of popcorn. “I don’t – I mean – ”
He grinned, side-eyeing her. “I always knew you were into the stoic types.”
“She wasn’t – ” Mizi pursed her lips, looking down. “When you two were doing the read, you know how we all left? Well, we talked some.” Her cheeks were flushed, nearly the same shade of her regularly-dyed hair. “She was nicer than you’d think, looking at her.”
Till wasn’t sure how much he believed her. Everyone was nice to Mizi. She was just that kind of person. You would have to be pure evil to be mean to her. “I trust your judgment,” he said instead, reaching out and squeezing her arm.
She peered at him from under her eyelashes. “But what if it complicates things? Especially when you’ll be working with Ivan for the next few months. And I mean, I don’t even know if she’s, you know.”
“And you’ll never know if you don’t ask,” he replied, making sure to soften his voice. “And don’t worry about me, okay? I can take care of my own shit.”
-
Till was confident. It was something Mizi always said she admired about him; he knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t afraid to work for it.
But he was also well-aware of his own shortcomings. He could be testy and impatient, and didn’t always take being corrected or criticized well.
“What if I say something wrong?” he whined, standing in front of the oversized mirror in his living room.
Mizi glanced up from her phone. “Then you – and I know this is an abstract concept to you – but you apologize.”
Till glared at her through the mirror. “And what if he says something wrong?”
“You wait it out,” she replied just as easily. “I mean, he seemed nice enough at the chemistry read.” She set her phone aside, seemingly done with it for now. “He didn’t have to help you like that.”
Till felt his cheeks grow warm just remembering the kiss. In the moment, he had been able to control himself, too caught up in making sure he didn’t ruin the scene more or – worse – lose his role. But now, looking back, he couldn’t quite believe he had kissed Ivan.
It was always going to happen, Luka was right, if Ivan got the role but somehow that didn’t make it any easier to believe.
And he had gotten the role; Luka had called him this morning with the good news. After that, Till had thought about texting Ivan, congratulating him. They had exchanged numbers for a reason.
But he couldn’t quite work up the guts to do it.
He must’ve waited too long because eventually a text had popped up on his own phone from ‘Ivan’. (He had debated adding a heart before realizing that was asking for trouble.)
“Since we’ll officially be working together,” it had read, “I would like to get to know each other better.”
Till had mulled over how to respond for so long he had eventually texted Mizi instead for help. With her help, he had responded back with a simple, “How about brunch?”
He still wasn’t sure people actually used the word brunch in real life but he had trusted Mizi more than himself in the moment, and either way it worked out because Ivan said yes.
He said yes with a little :) to be precise and Till felt like his heart was going to burst. He was playing a dangerous game, he knew, letting himself feed into this when they were coworkers, nothing else, but he couldn’t help it.
And Mizi was enabling it.
After their conversation, Mizi had invited herself over to help him get ready. Fair enough, because without Hyuna he wasn’t really too sure how to do much more than throw on a shirt and jeans.
She had helped him with some basic makeup – a bit of eyeliner and gloss – then picked out his outfit for him, which he still wasn’t sure about.
It was brunch, after all, but she had picked out a long-sleeved silky blue shirt and black jeans. He felt a little overdressed but she had assured him it was perfect.
“I should get going,” she announced, tearing him out of his downward spiral. She jumped off the couch and walked over, peering in the mirror alongside him. “You look hot.”
Till snorted, shaking his head. “I used to dream of you hearing you say that.”
And it was true; when they had first met, when his career was still new and fresh, he had immediately developed a crush on her. Now, he was glad they were just friends. Now, they were so close it didn’t even feel weird joking about it.
Mizi winked playfully and patted him on the back. “Just be yourself.”
That was what he was afraid of.
-
Mizi left after that, which was expected – it was only an hour until Ivan was set to arrive – but being alone didn’t help his nerves at all.
Nearly exactly on the dot, Till’s doorbell rang. Old-fashioned, really, because most people just texted when they arrived.
Smoothing his shirt down in the mirror, and reminding himself this wasn’t a date, he walked over and opened the door.
Thankfully, he hadn’t been the only one to get dressed up. Ivan wore a long-sleeved black shirt, tucked neatly into dark blue slacks. His hair was swept back out of his face; if he wore makeup, it wasn’t obvious enough for Till to be able to tell but either way he was as stunning as ever.
Till realized – belatedly – that he had just been staring at him without saying anything for at least a minute. Flushing, he stepped out of the way, a silent invitation inside.
Just as he opened his mouth to say something, anything, Ivan was saying, “I almost feel bad for what I’m about to suggest,” he smiled, small, “considering how good you look.”
Till blinked once, twice. “Oh. Um. What?”
Stupid. He was so stupid.
“You obviously got dressed up intending to go out,” Ivan continued, still smiling with a hint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes, “which I know we discussed, but…”
Till swallowed; why was his mouth so dry? “But?”
“But,” Ivan tilted his head a little. “I can’t speak for you, of course, but getting recognized in public is daunting.”
Till was suddenly reminded of their differences. He’d been recognized a few times, sure, but undoubtedly nothing compared to what Ivan went through. His face was plastered everywhere – billboards, magazines, commercials – so no wonder he was tired of getting recognized everywhere he went.
Even if you didn’t know Ivan, you’d at least seen his face. And most people can’t control themselves around a celebrity, regardless of personal interest.
“I understand,” he said finally, not sure what else to say.
Ivan smiled a bit wider. “So do you mind?” Till wasn’t quite sure what he was asking, but thankfully he continued before he could make a fool of himself. “I know it must also be daunting to have a stranger in your apartment.”
The dots connected quickly, suddenly. Till didn’t even have to think about the answer. “I don’t mind at all,” he said, but then, “I just – well.” Warm in the face, he gestured weakly at his kitchen. “I don’t have much.”
“No problem,” Ivan was already pulling out his phone. “We can just order something.”
-
That was how they ended up on his couch, shoes thrown off, eating a pizza. It was oddly comfortable, even though Till kept catching himself staring at Ivan’s mouth.
It was hard not to remember the kiss. It had just been part of the script, albeit a little early. Not to mention, Ivan had only done it to save him from making a complete fool of himself.
But it was still hard to forget, or brush off. After all, Till had admired him (and possibly had a crush on him) for so long. He never imagined just meeting him, nevertheless anything more.
“Do I have something on my face?”
Ivan’s seemingly innocent question was what finally drew him back to reality.
Till startled, nearly dropping his slice of pizza. It was starting to get cold anyway. “Um. No. I mean. Your face is fine.”
He winced at his own words, cursing himself internally.
Ivan smiled – no, that was a smirk. “I’m glad to hear you think my face is ‘fine’.”
“Well, I mean, I didn’t – your face is more than fine,” Till stammered, even as he cursed himself more with each word.
For a moment, there was silence and Till was sure he had finally properly screwed things up. But then Ivan threw his head back and started laughing hard enough he shook the couch a little.
Once he quieted down, he gazed at Till with a crooked smile. “You’re funny.”
Till flushed. “I’m sure you hear that kind of stuff all the time.”
“Mmm,” Ivan tilted his head back and forth. “Yeah, but people are usually a lot more suave about it.” When Till frowned, he nudged him with his foot. “That’s a good thing. I prefer when people don’t try so hard.”
Till couldn’t fight back a smile even if he tried. “Oh.”
“I was gonna suggest we do a readthrough of the script tonight but,” Ivan checked his phone. “It’s getting late.”
Till tried to hide his disappointment. He was surprised how much he’d enjoyed Ivan’s company. He had hoped he would, of course, but he was never sure how these things would go. Like mentioned, he didn’t always get along with people easily. And Ivan was, well, Ivan.
Famous, beautiful, rich. Till expected him to be a lot more conceited or snobby. Most of the famous people Till met were like that, after all, but not Ivan. He was sweet. A little odd, but wasn’t everyone?
“Are you free next Friday?” Ivan asked.
Till didn’t even have to think. If he had plans, he would just have to reschedule.
“Um, probably,” he said, aiming for casual and probably failing.
Ivan smiled again; he had one fang that Till was starting to think was unfairly adorable. “We can meet, then, go over the script.”
“Sounds good.” Amazing, actually, but he didn’t dare seem too eager, even though he was starting to think Ivan wouldn’t mind.
-
“Soooo,” Mizi slung herself over the couch ungracefully. “How did it go, hmm?”
Till snorted, pushing her out of the way to sit down. “I – ” His smile fell. Mizi was quick to adapt, sitting up properly. She had always been good at adapting to his moods. “I think I might be screwed.”
“What?” she leaned in closer. “Did he do something?”
Till appreciated her concern, as unfounded as it was. “No, he was… he was great, actually. We ate pizza and talked about a lot of nothing. He mentioned coming over next Friday so we can actually go over the script.”
“So… what’s wrong?” She was frowning, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He couldn’t blame her.
He sighed, peering down at his hands folded together in his lap. “I think I could really like him, Mizi. Like… a lot.”
The thing was, he had never really liked someone before. He had certainly never dated. Beyond his short-lived crush on Mizi, passionate as it was, he had never even gotten the urge to date, or even do what a lot of other actors did and sleep around casually.
And now he was worried if he spent too much time with Ivan, that might change. Turn into something more than a crush from afar.
For a long moment, they were both silent. Finally, Mizi reached for his hands, cradling them gently.
“You are a really good person, Till.”
He rolled his eyes, an automatic response. She squeezed his hands harder.
“You always undervalue yourself, Till,” she continued, and he couldn’t look away from her determined gaze. “You act overconfident to make up for it, but I know you too well for that. You don’t know think someone like Ivan could ever like you but you fail to realize he’d be lucky to have you.”
He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. “I – ”
But she apparently wasn’t finished, “I met with Sua.” She paused for a moment, like she was realizing something. “Ivan’s manager,” she clarified. “We really hit it off. She cares for Ivan like I care for you, I think.”
He just nodded, unsure where this was going but happy for her either way.
“I probably shouldn’t say this, it isn’t my place but,” she smiled, small, “I will, because I think you need to hear it. Apparently Ivan can’t stop talking about you. Sua said he’s never been so interested in another person. She even asked me about you.” Her smile widened a bit. “I only said good things, of course. I knew she was just worried.”
Till couldn’t believe it. He had also never known Mizi to lie, especially about serious stuff.
“But I – I can’t,” he stammered, looking down at their hands. “Even if he was interested,” which was so hard to believe he almost felt like he was dreaming, “I can’t risk it.”
Mizi ducked her head, forcing her eyes to meet again. “Why not?”
“You know why,” he said, and he wasn’t even embarrassed that he sounded like a petulant child. “I would be risking the movie. If we had a fight or – or broke up, I don’t know if I could pretend like nothing happened.”
He was making a lot of assumptions anyway; assuming Ivan was interested in something more, when maybe he just wanted something casual or temporary. But still the details didn’t matter. Either way, Till knew he couldn’t go back to acting like only coworkers.
“Till, I know you care about this movie,” she smiled again but there was something sad about the curve of her mouth, pitying. “But sometimes life is about taking chances. You can’t just depend on your career for happiness forever.”
He wanted to argue because he couldn’t find the words. Mizi squeezed his hands even tighter. It was almost painful but also oddly comforting.
“What if you got a role a few years from now – your dream role – but then suddenly you were kicked off the cast.” Till waited, knowing she wasn’t finished. “You would be devastated, obviously, but you would be even more devastated if you had to go home to an empty apartment.”
Till licked his lips; when did they get so dry?
“Plenty of people are satisfied never having a partner. Dating.”
Mizi rolled her eyes. “I know that but I also know you’re not one of them, Till.”
She really did know him too well. “But we’re both famous, Mizi, and he’s – he’s a household name. If we dated, we couldn’t keep it from the public for too long. Someone would find out.”
“And that is something worth discussing,” she finally released his hands, choosing instead to squeeze his wrist. “With him.”
Till suddenly felt like crying. He didn’t, but his eyes burned. “What if we’re wrong? Even Sua?”
“Then you can come to me and cry it out.” She smiled, warm and sincere.
It was a decent enough backup plan. Without warning, he lunged forward and hugged her. “Have I said recently how you are the best manager in the world?”
“You don’t have to tell me, I already know.”
-
Till decided not to rush it, even if Mizi suggested texting Ivan and setting a closer date to see each other again.
When Friday finally rolled around, he felt like he was going to be sick.
He made a point to not dress up, just a pair of his usual jeans and a black t-shirt. If this was going to happen, he wanted to be sure it was because Ivan really liked him. Not because he thought he looked good enough to settle for.
A few minutes after 12, his doorbell rang.
Brushing by the mirror without looking, he opened the door. Ivan had apparently had the same thought; he looked as gorgeous as last time, obviously, but he was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans too with a thin jacket. His hair also wasn’t slicked back, hanging loosely around his face.
He also had a bag, probably to carry around the script and whatever else he might need.
Like last time, they ordered food and ended up on the couch. This time, however, they had the scripts. Till noticed a ton of highlighted parts in Ivan’s copy; maybe he shouldn’t have assumed he just had a natural gift for memorizing things. He had obviously worked just as hard.
For a while, they just rehearsed through the easy parts. Didn’t bother acting any of the parts out just yet.
Most of that stuff – gestures, movements – would be changed before they actually started filming anyway so Till didn’t usually worry about it, just focused on the actual dialogue.
But then they flipped the page and Till saw it: the scene where they kissed. The actual scene.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. When Till finally chanced a look up, he noticed Ivan was already looking at him.
“Do you usually practice these parts?” Ivan asked.
Till tried to decipher his voice, his expression, but it was all perfectly neutral.
“Sometimes,” he answered, because it was true. “Makes it less awkward later.” But other actors preferred keeping any kissing strictly in front of the camera. Till didn’t really have a preference.
Ivan hummed thoughtfully. “Well then, I’m up for it, if you are.”
He could almost hear Mizi in his head, telling him he shouldn’t do this. He should confess, first, otherwise it wasn’t fair. To him or Ivan. And he would confess tonight. He had already made that decision but…
Couldn’t he be just a little selfish first?
“Sure.” Understatement of the century.
Collecting their scripts, Till set them aside on the coffee table and was relieved when Ivan made the first move to scoot closer. He still couldn’t quite read his face, perfectly blank.
“Let me know if you want to stop,” Ivan said, a hand already reaching out and settling on Till’s neck, warm and heavy.
Till was pretty sure Ivan could’ve done anything to him in that moment and he still wouldn’t have asked him to stop, but he appreciated the sentiment.
Not trusting his voice, Till just gave a tiny nod and that seemed to be enough for Ivan. He leaned forward, slowly, like he was giving Till the chance to stop him if he wanted to.
He didn’t.
Finally their lips touched, just a gentle press. Ivan’s lips were even softer than he remembered, warmer too. The script didn’t detail the kiss; that would be decided later with help from the director but – Till supposed Ivan was preparing for everything as he tilted his head, pressing their lips together with a bit more fervor.
Hardly complaining, Till kissed back, scooting a little closer. That should’ve been it. Given the scene, it was doubtful the kiss was going to be anything more than this.
But Ivan didn’t pull away, and Till wasn’t going to be the first to end it.
Opening his eyes, he finally wasn’t surprised for once to find Ivan already staring back at him. What was difference, however, was the look in his eyes. Intense, but somehow warm.
Till felt a shiver down his spine and decided this was it. Words had never been his specialty. Moving quickly, he shifted up onto his knees and swung a leg over Ivan to settle on the other side, kissing him the entire time.
Only once he was settled, straddling him, did he finally pull back. “Is this okay?”
Ivan’s eyes were always dark, nearly black, but this was something else. “Depends,” he replied, low but steady. He lifted his hands, placing them on Till’s hips. “Is this okay?”
Instead of replying with words, Till just leaned in and kissed him again. This kiss was immediately different from the first, filthy and almost aggressive. Ivan bit at his bottom lip, just the edge of too hard, and Till let out a sound in the back of his throat that was outright embarrassing.
He only pulled back for air when he absolutely had to, panting a little to catch his breath. Ivan’s eyes were half-lidded; he somehow looked the best he ever had. Till swallowed. This was his chance.
“I have something to confess,” he forced the words out before he could reconsider.
Ivan blinked, once, almost immediately looking more alert. “What?” His hands shifted on his hips but didn’t pull away. “Do you want to stop?”
“Quite literally the opposite,” he replied, feeling nearly delirious. This was it. “I know this is – probably not what you want at all, and I’m probably reading too much into everything, and – and I know this could get in the way of the movie, I’m not an idiot, but I think I would really regret not saying it.”
Ivan squeezed his hips, then, and it was enough to make him feel a little more grounded. “You’re kind of scaring me here, Till.”
He stared at Ivan for a moment, appreciating every detail of his face, before he took a deep breath, “I think I could end up liking you.” He paused, letting the words settle properly in the silence between them. “A lot.”
Till wasn’t sure what he was expecting. The silence lingered so long he was starting to feel an ache in his chest.
Without a word, he went to move off Ivan’s lap but his hands tightened around his waist. “Stay,” he said, the softest Till had ever heard his voice.
“You don’t have to try and – and placate me,” Till stammered, but he didn’t try to move again. “I’m not gonna be mad at you for not feeling the same way.”
Ivan opened his mouth, closed it. Till watched his face flicker through about ten different emotions before suddenly he was kissing him again, hard and messy. Till gasped into his mouth, surprised – confused – but hardly disappointed.
He curled his fingers in Ivan’s hair, eyelashes fluttering. He could do this forever. He also knew he needed a real answer.
He deserved that.
Mustering all his courage, he pulled back. Ivan stared up at him with a newfound intensity. He forced himself to speak around the lump in his throat, “I’ve admired you for a long time. I know that might not be – appealing, in this context. But I don’t think that has anything to do with what I’ve felt since we met.”
Ivan continued to stare at him. Till gulped.
“You’re just not what I expected,” he paused. “In a really good way, and I’ve never done this before. Not just with another actor. Or, uh, coworker. I mean, like at all.”
The corner of Ivan’s mouth started to quirk up. “You’re cute.”
“Oh.” Till flushed. “Thank you?”
Ivan let out a soft laugh; gently, he moved Till off him. Under different circumstances, he might’ve overthought what that meant but Ivan was still smiling, warm and small.
“Are you asking me out, Till?” he asked, not even trying to hide the mirth in his eyes.
He supposed he was, in a way. “I mean, that’s – that’s assuming a lot. I just, I wanted to let you know. I didn’t – ” He hadn’t expected anything, he meant to say, but he suddenly stopped, finally connecting the dots. “Wait. Does that mean – ?”
Ivan leaned against the back of the couch, watching him with that same sparkle in his eyes. “I liked you the second I set my eyes on you,” the confession felt like igniting fire in Till’s very core. “I wasn’t sure why, at first. I’d never felt that way before, and we barely knew each other.”
Till didn’t dare speak; he didn’t trust his voice anyway.
“But you’re… different,” Ivan hummed. “I can’t quite put my finger on it.” He smiled, that fang poking out again. Till wanted to feel it against his lip again. “And frankly, I don’t really care to.”
He paused, reaching out. Till didn’t even think twice, moving as if commanded by something out of his control. Ivan held his hand gently, thumb pressing into his knuckles, not hard but comforting. Grounding, like he somehow knew Till felt a little untethered.
“But I’m assuming you know by now I can’t promise you this won’t get out. Even when you’re surrounded by people you think you can trust, it’s not quite true in our line of work, is it?”
Till had already went over this in his head. “I don’t mind. I think it’s worth the risk.”
“We should at least keep it between us,” Ivan said softly, and Till wasn’t sure yet what he was going to say next. If he wanted to keep this hidden because he was ashamed or embarrassed to be seen with him. But then – “Just until the movie is done shooting. I don’t want them to project or assume anything just because we’re together.”
Till nodded. “I agree,” he said, meaning it. It was the smart move. “And if anything happens, if this doesn’t work, I need us to be on the same page.”
“I hope we won’t have to worry about that,” Ivan replied, “but the fact you even want to discuss it...” He smiled again, almost approvingly. Till didn’t want to admit how much that did for his confidence. “I promise you won’t have anything to worry about from my end. I could even give you something to use against me, if it would give you peace of mind.”
Till let out a sudden laugh, surprised by the odd offer. But just as Ivan kept saying he was different, he was starting to think Ivan’s oddness was what had really captivated him. “I’ll just have to take your word for it,” he said, still smiling.
-
They never ended up having to worry about. Months later, when the movie was wrapping up, they all celebrated by having dinner at Ivan’s house. The place had always been beautiful, from the very first time Till had seen it, but now it felt more like a proper home.
Pictures lined the walls that used to be empty, mostly of the two of them, but some were just of Till. He complained about them, sometimes, embarrassed but secretly he liked it.
Some were of all of them – Ivan, arms wrapped around Till. Mizi and Sua, heads tilted together.
Till was pretty sure he had died and gone to heaven. Or maybe he just should’ve been more hopeful when he was younger because sometimes he still struggled to believe this was real.
Sitting at the table, Ivan on his left and Mizi on his right, he wondered what he had done to end up lucky enough to have met both of them.
Or maybe Ivan was right, as he always liked to say: “You deserve good things, Till.”
Till still remembered the first time he’d said it when they were laid out in his bed. He had kissed Till’s forehead and he had suddenly felt the urge to cry, eyes burning.
Maybe, just maybe, he was finally starting to believe it.
“Can you believe they still haven’t figured it out?” Mizi was saying, giggling around the rim of her wine glass. “’How is their chemistry so good?’” she said, repeating what the director had said earlier.
Till hadn’t really heard him. He’d been too busy kissing Ivan with as much fervor as he kissed him every night. He supposed there were benefits, actually, to dating your costar.
Sua smiled at her side. “You can’t blame him. I’m surprised they were actually able to keep it hidden until the end of filming.”
Till chanced a glance at Ivan, who was already staring back at him. He smiled. Ivan smiled back, giving a nod.
“About that, actually,” Till cleared his throat. “We are planning to disclose that we’re dating. Not how long, obviously, but… we thought it might make things easier, especially since Ivan can’t stop complaining about wanting to take me places and not being able to.”
Mizi smiled, shifting to take Sua’s hand where it was resting atop the table.
“We’re happy for you.” She glanced at Ivan. “Both of you.”
-
At the end of the night, Till was surprised to have Mizi pull him away from Ivan’s side. She walked them to the edge of the porch, grasping his hands tightly in her own.
“I know this is going to be cheesy and you’ll hate every second of it,” she said, “but I just really need to say it.”
Till tilted his head with a confused smile.
“I used to worry about you.” She squeezed his hands tighter. “You always acted like you were fine on your own but I just – I could tell you had so much love to give and for a while I almost felt guilty, turning you down.”
Till tensed, already opening his mouth, but she continued, “I know you never wanted me to, and you never did anything to make me feel that. I promise. It was just – normal concern for a friend, okay?”
She gently shook their hands, smiling now. “But now I see you with Ivan and… Till, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy.”
He couldn’t fight the smile off his own face, small and sincere. He stared down at their hands. “I – ” He paused, swallowed around the lump in his throat. He hadn’t even said this to Ivan, yet, but somehow it felt right. Saying it, now, to Mizi first. “I think I love him.”
For a long moment, there was silence. When he finally glanced up, Mizi wasn’t looking at him. She was staring over his shoulder, eyes a little wide, and –
He dropped her hands and spun around. Ivan stood there, frozen with his hand in the air like he had just been about to tap his shoulder. Mizi squeaked and scooted past them, rushing to join Sua at the other end of the porch.
“I was going to ask if you were cold,” Ivan said, dropping his hand. It was chilly out, middle of autumn now, and Ivan knew he ran cold. The simple but sweet gesture made his heart feel like it was going to burst out of his chest.
Till just nodded, not trusting his voice. Ivan shucked off his jacket and moved to wrap it around his frame.
“I didn’t want you hear that,” Till said finally, clutching the jacket to keep it from falling. “I was going to tell you soon. Just needed the right moment. I know it’s probably too soon or I don’t know, I don’t really know how to gauge these things – ”
Ivan moved, smooth but fast, wrapping an arm around his waist and drawing him in close enough to tip their foreheads together. If he remembered they still had company present, he didn’t seem phased by it. “I don’t believe in there being a right time for anything,” he breathed softly. “I love you, Till.”
He smiled so big he knew his cheeks were going to hurt later. He didn’t care. Happiness was worth it. “Good,” he said before cupping both sides of Ivan’s face and kissing him.
It reminded him a lot of their first kiss but this time the roles were reversed. Ivan seemed surprised for just a second before he smiled against his lips, tugging him even closer.
When they separated, Till was breathless. He wasn’t complaining.
“I hate to say this,” he let out a shaky laugh, still catching his breath, “but I think we need to send a thank you card or something.”
Ivan raised an eyebrow, searching his face. “To who?”
“I’ll tell you later,” he replied before moving in to kiss him again. He heard Sua’s groan from across the porch. Ivan laughed against his mouth.
-
A week before they left for their first vacation, just a couple days after the news of them dating had hit the media, Till went to the store and picked out a card. It was the vaguest card he could find in the store, just a simple “thank you” with a smiley face on the front. He signed it just as simply – Ivan and Till – and left it like that. He trusted Luka to figure it out.
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kitchenisking · 2 days
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Day 4
Seires Fic Rec part 14
Queer Your Coffee by alisvolatpropiis - (Queer Your Coffee) - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 3,084, sterek)
Derek's just over the city line when he sees a sign for an independent drive-thru place, Full Spectrum Brew. There are three cars in line when he turns in, which annoys him but gives him hope. Not that he really trusts the people of Beacon Hills to have much taste when it comes to coffee (god, he is a snob), but the shop’s popularity does seem to bode well. The line of cars moves way more slowly than he’d like, each customer in front of him seeming to take way too long to order, and then lingering when they get their coffee. He’s irritable from lack of sleep and an even more detrimental lack of caffeine, anxious to get out of the car. Finally it’s his turn and he slowly rolls up to the window, turning the radio down.
For a second, he thinks he must have fallen asleep while he was waiting, because what he sees when he looks in the window surely must be a dream.
Stunning brown eyes like glowing honey and sweet little nose, slightly upturned; a shapely pink mouth, bottom-lip pierced by a thin black hoop that he's worrying with the tip of his tongue as he smiles a gorgeous hello.
He's the most beautiful man Derek's ever seen.
And he’s shirtless.
It's a Beautiful Night by khasael - (Hale and Hearty) - (Rating: T, Words: 2,887, sterek)
Just because they're all almost used to fighting against the Creature of the Week and assorted other Bad Guys, doesn't mean it doesn't get Stiles's heart rate going.
Dream a Little Dream by Yoiko - (A Little Dream of Me ) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,101, sterek)
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time. And since this is my dream you’re going to let me do it.”
All things share the same breath - the beast, the tree, the man. by devilscut - (There are nights when the wolves are silent and the moon howls.) - (Rating: Mature, Words: 11,687, sterek)
A shell-shocked Stiles regroups with the pack to find his father who has been kidnapped by the Darach. Their search leads them to the Nematon, where their confrontation with the Darach reveals her plans and that there is more to being a True Alpha than they know. Derek and his family's legacy is at the heart of her schemes and when the Darach has him under her control Stiles begins to realise the extent of how much he really cares for the sourwolf. In true Scooby-doo fashion, the villain has told them of her plans but more shockingly to Stiles she also reveals a very important aspect of his and Derek's relationship.
The virtue of patience by nofeartina - (Patience) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 11,827, sterek)
Stiles isn't afraid of admitting his feelings to Derek, but that doesn't mean that Derek wants to hear it. 
Or the one where Stiles knows that all good things come to those who wait.
I Feel Like You Can't Feel the Way I Feel by i_might_be_in_over_my_head - ( Einherjar MC ) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 14,087, sterek)
“Fuckin A, dude! The last time you gave me that look I ended up in the woods in the middle of the night, lost my inhaler, and almost died. Please tell me why you’re always trying to get me killed?” Scott shook his head resigned. He knew Stiles was going in and nothing he could say would change that. “If we wake up dead tomorrow just remember this was your idea.”
Stiles threw his fist in the air enthusiastically, almost punching Scott in the face, and turned to the door. He knew if he didn’t go quick Scott would probably change his mind and he’d have to start all over. “Dude that was sophomore year of high school, let it go! Plus dead body! We had to go. We’ll just have a drink and check it out. It’ll be fun!”
fingertips have memories by thatworldinverted - (let's talk about sex ) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,800, sterek)
Pochemuchka (Russian), noun: a person who asks a lot of questions. 
"I saw the way you watched me, when I was home last month. How long have you been dreaming about getting me on my knees?"
seems to me it's chemistry by HalfFizzbin - (covalent bonds) - (Rating: T, Words: 4,153, sterek)
Awkward Nerd Derek has been crushing on Handsome Jock Stiles since forever—so getting paired with him on a Chemistry project is definitely the best/worst thing that's ever happened to him.
These next two fics go hand in hand. 😇
The One with All the Kids by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: G, Words: 6,527, sterek)
Derek didn't know what he did to deserve to have this again. A house full of people, of family. He's going to be forever grateful to that rouge witch for what she did for him and Stiles, because after all the hurt they went through together, many years later, they're standing in the Pack house, in their house, surrounded by their family.
A New Hale by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: G, Words: 4,543, sterek)
The Pack meets the werewolf cub that Stiles and Derek gets placed with them on Christmas.
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#selfie bee#me telling a coworker who I have been working with for 4 months and whose name I do not know about my toenails#i'm sorry Tobias (?? Paul ??) it was the only topic I could come up with after I already told you about the big bird I saw in 8th grade#FRIENDS how are you!! :) how has the new year been so far!!#did you have a lot of snow on christmas!#we did and it was really fun! I had a very bad cold so I just watched the snow from inside but that was good too c:#do you have any plans for the new year?#i always have lot and most of the time I do not do any of them but planning is fun#this year I REALLY want to watch all of Star Trek ヽ(´∇`)ノ#I would also love to learn how to make a handstand#imagine if you could just make yourself upside down#but it is a far away dream because honestly I am not very good at being usual side up most of the time either#but I will try probably at least 2 times to learn it ( ᐛ )#maybe I'll finally finish that website!#new years are good and fun#it's wild to think about how much daily life has changed since last year but I feel just the same :)#who knows what this year will bring!#I hope I don't hit a pheasant with my car#I almost hit a pheasant with my car last year and the pheasant made direct eye contact#I wonder how he is doing today#since that moment I think about pheasants a lot#I knew they were real but I had never seen one#just to know they are out there is a mystical feeling#right know it is raining so all the pheasants might be wet#get dry soon pheasants!!#I don't think I've ever seen a wet bird either#I don't know what do do with all these birds thoughts#also thank you for the person who asked about my skirt!! ( ˊᵕˋ )♡.°⑅#I've finished it and its really really bad#but I love it
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crunchycrystals · 10 months
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mitski was so right when she wrote the second verse to strawberry blonde
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povlnfour · 25 days
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ EVERYBODY TALKS (LN4)
pairing: lando norris x f!reader
summary: lando eventually lands the girl of his dreams. he also finds out just how fast news travels
a/n: this was one of my wips i posted foREVER ago so enjoy the full one shot whilst i finish off some written stuff. based on everybody talks by neon trees🙇‍♀️🤍
*faceclaim (but imagine as you see her fit) is millie hannah
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris boo’s birthday
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alex_albon here’s a thought stop calling her your boo and actually make her your boo
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user did anyone else see that comment or am i making things up
user bro just ask her out i swear to god
user last photo is feeling very intimate mr. norris
alex_albon happy birthday y/n/n, please don’t get me super drunk tomorrow
user i saw that last comment mr ur not slick
yourusername no promises albono i intend to do a lot of shots
texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername y/n’s big birthday bash🪩
👤 tagged landonorris, friend1 and 6 others
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landonorris did u run to the bathrooms just to post on instagram
yourusername stfu and order me shots
user is anyone else now thinking about how often y/n probably sees lando shirtless👁️👄👁️
user i’ve been thinking about it since she first posted that photo of him in the gym showing his abs
user @/user TAG ME IN THAT WTF
texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername 💋
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user MA’AM YOU ARE UNBELIEVABLY ATTRACTIVE
lilymhe is that the lip combo i suggested because GIRL IT SUITS YOU
user lando MOVE i want her too
landonorris pretty
landonorris where are you off to?
yourusername meeting that friend i told you about on my bday!
y/n’s texts with lando ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername race days
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maxverstappen1 you’re a jinx. never come again
maxverstappen1 (it was lovely to see you)
yourusername hope you enjoyed your time in the garage🥰🥰
user come to every race you’re good luck
user personally if my best friend was super hot and came to cheer me on looking that good i’d cuff her but maybe lando’s different
yourusername nah he’s just oblivious
landonorris @/yourusername HUH
yourusername @/landonorris i said what i said
tmz just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris just tweeted ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername responded: yes, literally everyone.
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landonorris lando: 1, friendzone: 0
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user FUCKIN FINALLY.
user @/yourusername i could treat you better
alex_albon you’re not really winning if you’ve been pining over her for two years mate
landonorris shut the fuck up before she sees this
yourusername @/landonorris TWO YEARS??? TWO YEARS AND YOU SAID NOTHING????
user uh oh. lando’s in trouble
————
a/n: this was… weak i apologise im still settling in😭 just wanted to put something out whilst i finish my charles/seb/lando written one shots eek!
as always any reblogs and whatnot appreciated. big love xx
- giselle
taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35 @treehouse-house @iloveyou3000morgan @scopeiguess @amaranthineghost @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers @dark-night-sky-99 @namgification @casperlikej @marshmummy @geniusalpaca
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gojoux · 8 months
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Reaction of the JJK men (Gojo, Toji, Nanami, Choso) when you fall asleep waiting for their return !!!!
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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍
Gojo. Geto. Sukuna. Nanami. Choso. Toji. Megumi. Itadori. Yuta.
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◈ — 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
Gojo is a busy man with missions, so when he's very busy, he'd often come home after a few days or the very least he could do was come home late. When he notices you, the first thing he does is let out a small smile. “My baby was waiting for me, hm?” He walks towards you and sits beside you as he admires your features, brushing the back of his index finger on your cheek, “You look so cute even when you're asleep. I think you know that already.” He chuckles quietly before joining you to sleep on the couch as well, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you close to him, mumbling, “We have a lot to catch up on when you wake up,” before closing his eyes.
◈ — 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎
It was a bit late at night since he had some business to do with money-collecting monkeys. “Oh, my love is asleep. What should I do?” He talks to himself in a lighthearted tone before sitting down next to you, and placing your head on his lap as he caresses your head gently with a smile on his face like you're the only person he loves. He'd ask someone to bring a blanket and he'll drape it over your body. He doesn't know what strong will of a cursed spirit he consumes but he could stay in this position for quite some time just to admire you as you sleep. “Sweet dreams to you, love.”
◈ — 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
In his situation, let's say he just came back home from doing... whatever you imagined. He's too immersed at the moment that he doesn't realize it's already late and now, he already has someone waiting for him at home. “Hmm? Already asleep? I didn't think I took that long.” He'd toss his robe to the side and sit down in front of your sleeping body, “Look at you, willing to stay up for me until you fall asleep.” He chuckles. “We have quite a few things to do once you wake up. Until then, dream of me.” He then sighs when he sees you probably fall off the couch, “I don't want to sleep on the floor though,” as he lifts your body and walks towards the bed.
◈ — 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈
It's always the same case with him if he comes home late, overtime. He'd feel sorry for not coming home earlier since you must have been very sleepy just to wait for him. His shoulder slumps as he closes the door and loosens his tie as he walks towards the couch to see you already asleep. “You must be tired waiting for me.” He'd sit beside you and hold your hand, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. He immediately notices the position you're sleeping in and lets out a sigh again, “That can't be comfortable,” as he lays your body down. He'll join you to sleep, resting his back on the couch's pillow and placing a hand on your body.
◈ — 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎
“I'm home.” He'd be worried and concerned when he came home and saw you sleeping on the couch alone at night but he'd be relieved when he saw that you had at least a blanket wrapped over you. He'd just sit beside you, staring at your peaceful face in deep slumber. “I'm sorry I came back home late, I have something to do.” He'd caress your arm, apologizing for whatever reason he's late even when you're sleeping. “I'm afraid I'll wake you up if I lift you to the bedroom.” He makes himself comfortable on the couch as he tries to think of a few things he can do to make you a little happy later on once you wake up.
◈ — 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
“Hmm?” He'd be confused when you're not there by the door to greet him like usual. He walks close towards the couch to see you there, already fast asleep. His eyes glance towards the clock to show the time that indeed is already late, and he immediately figures that you must be asleep waiting for him since you're not in bed as usual. “You shouldn't wait for me when you're already sleepy, I told you this. You're so stubborn sometimes.” He says to himself with a shake of his head, a small grin appears on his face, as he kneels to look at your face better. “I'm glad you're willing to wait for me though.” He chuckles to himself as he caresses your head.
◈ — 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈
Megumi would stare at your sleeping body on the couch, hugging his dog plushie with no blanket to be seen, and then glance at the clock, showing that it's not that late yet, before letting out a soft sigh. “(Y/N).” He carefully shakes you awake, feeling a bit guilty as he does so since you must be feeling sleepy to fall asleep quite earlier than usual. Once your eyes slowly open, he'll hold your hand gently. “You shouldn't sleep on the couch like this just to wait for me... you'll catch a cold.” He cares so much for you and he's trying to show it with his way. “Next time, just wait in the bedroom. Now let's go to bed. You can continue to sleep there.” He squeezes your hand in his. “I will join you after I shower, okay?”
◈ — 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈
“Why are you sleeping on the couch?” He asks your sleeping body before kneeling in front of your laid down body on the couch. “You look so cute.” He mumbles as he admires your face. He sleeps on the couch sometimes, he doesn't mind a bit of soreness since the couch is not exactly as soft as the bed, but he doesn't want you to feel the same. “(Y/N)... (Y/N)...” He pokes your cheek with his index finger gently to wake you up. “Let's go to bed? I'll give you a nice, big cuddle.” He grins widely as he waits for you to open your eyes when you start to stir in your sleep from his constant poking. “Let me help you get up, you're still sleepy.”
◈ — 𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀
Yuta would be surprised that you're willing to make yourself sleep less comfortable on the couch waiting for him. “Eh? Why are you sleeping here?” He walks towards you, only to see your eyes are still closed in deep slumber. “You should be asleep on the bed...” He mumbles as he caresses your cheek with his thumb as gently as he can since he's afraid he'll wake you up. “Did I come home too late?” He asks himself quietly, not quite keeping up with the time. “Did you overwork yourself alone?” He then asks your sleeping body as he checks for any signs of fatigue. He'll join you to sleep after adjusting your position and blanket, making sure you're as comfortable as you can on the couch.
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I shall write for all (for satisfication purposes) 🫡
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4K notes · View notes
its-shells · 4 months
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“So,” Grian says, “this is awkward.”
Scar says nothing. Scar had said nothing for quite a while, honestly, sitting cross-legged in the void and playing with the hem of his cloak. Or with the flower stems woven through the hem of his cloak, as it were. Lilacs and poppies. Grian had thought it painfully ironic the first time he saw them. Scar hadn’t. Not until now.
“So,” Grian says, again, “I can explain? I think?”
He can hear stifled giggles behind him, Scott and Pearl discussing the last moments of the fight. He feels Martyn’s heated glare between his shoulder blades too, knows that he’ll be getting an earful about taking his final life whenever the fourth winner can get his hands on him, but at least Martyn’s been kind enough to leave him at the mercy of the fifth for now. Or not kind enough, as it were. Whether or not Scar has any mercy for him is an open question.
“Explain what,” Scar says. It’s not a question, which is just as well, since Grian doesn’t really have an answer.
Can he explain?
“Well,” he says, “there’s these death games.”
The death games he technically started, and then technically couldn’t stop. The death games that weren’t meant to be blood sacrifices, but probably count as happening on somebody’s altar. The death games that no one ever wins, but technically–
“Technically, the people who win them get to keep their memories.” He scrunches up his nose. “Or, uh, recover their memories of the previous ones, I suppose. Which is what’s happening to you. And Martyn, and Pearl, and Scott, and I was the first, so–”
“One heck of a headache, right?” Pearl yells behind them. “Was even for me, and you’ve got four whole timelines to deal with!” She flops backwards onto the floor, which is the void, pressing the back of the palm to her forehead theatrically even as she peers up at Scar through parted fingers. Scott rolls his eyes and grabs her hand.
“Give them a moment, Pearl,” Grian hears him whisper. “I know you weren’t there for Third Life, but I’ve explained it to you a dozen times, so–“
“So,” Scar says. “Third Life was real.”
It’s a strange way of putting it for someone who hadn’t remembered it at all until now.
“That’s a strange way of putting it for someone who hadn’t remembered it at all until now,” Grian says, because he’s always loose-tongued after dying. Scar stares at him, unblinking.
“That’s a strange way of thinking for someone who declared the first ever game a double victory,” he says. His head is tilted to the side.
Grian stares back.
“That didn’t count.”
“It didn’t not.”
“You didn’t remember until now.”
“I didn’t not.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Doesn’t it?” Scar shrugs. He plucks a flower from between the dark threads. It’s a poppy. “No less than the rest of it. No less sense than me waking up with sand between my toes, or burns on my arms, or bamboo in my pockets. No less than the dreams. Those didn’t make sense either.”
“It’s not like you ever asked me to explain.”
“Would you have?”
“Not the point.”
“Isn’t it?”
Pearl is still giggling. Martyn is still staring. Scott is quiet.
“Maybe it is,” Grian admits, quietly. It’s not an apology. It never will be.
Nor is it forgiveness, when Scar leans forward to tuck the poppy behind his ear. Nor will it ever be.
Sure feels like it sometimes though.
1K notes · View notes
seongclb · 11 months
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— enhypen reaction to you being upset when they cheat on you in a dream !
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bf!enha x gn!reader, fluff & humour, established relationship au, mentions of cheating & nightmares.
req. by anon! pls let me know if u like it :3
n. @woon2u u might be a bit delulu but i’m def delulu 4U
♫ phases by chase atlantic.
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𖠗 이희승 | lee heeseung.
would probably be dead asleep when you whack him awake
“y/n, what is going on??” he slurs in his sleep
“YOU TELL ME???”
his eyes shoot wide open and he jumps to sit up, but still remaining groggy while he tries to think of what he’s done
“is this bc i ate ur cookie bc i said i would get you one tomorrow” he whines
you hit him with a pillow and he whelps
“i’ll get you two???” he says, and dodges your next hit
“you cheated on me.” you say and he looks at you with disgust
“oh shush,” he says, pulling you back to bed
he obviously wins against your attempts to push him away and traps you in his warm, snug embrace
he speaks softly with his hands tracing shapes on your arms, “why would i need to cheat when i have everything i’ve ever wanted right here with me?”
judging by the amount of kisses you place on his face, he can tell he’s done a good job at shooing away your concerns for the night.
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𖠗 박종성 | park jongseong.
now, you’re the only one he’ll allow to disrupt his sleep
but.. this reason
he would just let out the biggest sigh before consoling you bc even though he’s tired as heck, you’re his love and he can’t afford for you to be bothered by something
“what’s up, love?” he’d ask while stroking your back
“i had a nightmare.”
he would immediately comfort you and question what it’s about, if you’re comfortable with saying
“you cheated on me”
oh gosh he has to fight the urge to roll his eyes
“i would never do such a thing, i love you far too much”
indeed he does since he’s willing to comfort you over his sleep and just in case the thought actually does bother you, he’ll be extra affectionate and loving to you as a reminder that he’s all yours
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𖠗 심재윤 | sim jaeyun.
you’d have to literally first pry his clinging body off of yours and then shake him awake
“whattt”
he has the audacity to be grumpy, you think
“sim jaeyun.”
“uh oh” he sits up and rubs his eyes. “whatever it is, i’m sorry and i love you.”
“you think that’s enough for me to forgive you for CHEATING???”
he’s like wth and laughs
“babe, what are you even sayinggg? stop being so silly i’d never do that to you,” just kisses your forehead repeatedly
just forces you back to sleep against his chest and tomorrow if you’re still sad, he’ll make it up to you
but rn, man is too sleepy so he’ll show his reassurance in sleepy kisses and whispers of affection
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𖠗 박성훈 | park sunghoon.
probably feels you jolt awake which is what wakes him up
“babe, are you okay?” while getting the glass of water for you just in case
“when were you going to tell me?” you whisper
“tell you what…” man is so confused like you just woke up from bed didn’t you???
“that you’ve been cheating on me.”
he’ll roll his eyes now
“and what evidence of this do you have, my love?” sunghoon would literally look at you with no expression
“i saw it.”
“where?”
you pause, “inmydreams”
“i didn’t quite catch that, y/n”
“in my dreams” you say.
he just sighs and pulls you in his embrace
“aigooo you’re so dramatic sometimes what will i do with you” but when he sees the pout fall even lower in your lips
he just kisses it away
“don’t let these silly dreams put things into your brain, i would never do that to you, i love you the most in the world.” he’ll make fun of you another day
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𖠗 김선우 | kim sunoo.
another one who would have to be shook awake
would be so sassy straight away too
“what is so important that you had to wake me up at 2:48 am for ???”
“you cheated on me in my dream,” you pout.
now he pouts
immediately becomes more concerned
i just feel like sunoo would be more understanding that this is more than a silly dream
“awww, my love,” would first try calming you down if you’re too upset but would then just pat your head
“as if theres anyone better than you to cheat with anyway! nobody compares seriously,” he reassures
after you’re calm he probably focuses on making you laugh and comfortably going back to sleep
would hate for you to sleep with something so horrid on your mind
ur his other half why would he ever want to cheat???
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𖠗 양정원 | yang jungwon.
your movements would wake him up
initial reaction is to check up on you
“y/n, are you okay?”
“jungwon would you ever cheat on me”
he’d first look at you like you have two heads
but becomes softer when he sees your eyes
“of course not!! you’re the only one i want; you’re just so perfect for me, babe”
he’d say a million things to show why he would never cheat
“the thought of being with someone else disgusts me, honestly.”
oh man and if you giggle
he’ll be like mission accomplished
that’s just his sign that you’re okay now
so all is good and you’re back off to sleep
does keep an eye on you for a few days just in case
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𖠗 西村力 | nishimura riki
he’s a young, growing lad who needs his sleep
so when he wakes up to you frantically waking him up
hes a mix of grumpy and concerned
“what’s wrong?” while getting up to look at you
“i had a dream that you cheated on me.”
literally can’t take you seriously but is too tired to react
“a dream? y/n what the heck,” he says.
he’ll frown when he sees you’re serious
cups your cheeks in his hands
“you don’t have to worry about something like that, i love you and even if one day we don’t love each other anymore i would never cheat”
smiles at you with so much love
“now can we go back to sleep, i’m so tired”
he’ll treat you to ice cream tomorrow though :)
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cinnaminsvga · 1 month
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Harana | Jungkook
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harana (n.): the act of wooing someone by serenading them
→ summary:
Unwilling to settle down with you after five years of dating, Jeon Jungkook decides to break up to chase after his dreams. In the aftermath, you leave your hometown, desperate to forget your past and relearn what it means to be on your own. Two years later while on your way to work, you pass by a familiar voice singing songs about a girl he had left behind.
{or alternatively: Jungkook still sings the love songs that he wrote for you. He still means them, too.}
→ genre: busker!au, exes to lovers, angst, humor → warnings: jimin is insane and kinda crude (he has some issues going on), jungkook is a pathetic wet bunny but he's trying his best, oc has So Many Problems, so much arguing and yearning, ambiguous ending??? but my god there is hope!! the humanity of it all!! → words: 16.1K → a/n: HOLY SHIT IM BACK (kinda) and happy new year!! yeah ok its march but im relearning how to form coherent sentences so be patient ;w; this is the first installment of my hfoh series that i teased a LONG time ago... i made it a resolution to complete this series by the end of the year before i kms (Keep Myself Safe) so here's to a brand new year :D (oh god @ universe pls be kind)
part of the “heart full of hugot” series
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Two days before the incident, your shower nozzle decides to explode.
Okay, you have to admit that statement is a little misleading. Shower nozzles, in all its nonsentience, do not randomly decide to explode no matter how much you try to defend yourself to your landlord. Maybe your grip had been a little too harsh that morning, or maybe hanging 5 pounds of hair products on the handle had been a bit too much for the old sport to handle. Or maybe, just maybe, the universe was warning you about the incident.
Whatever it was, it doesn’t erase the fact that your shower would be out of commission for the next week or so (though your landlord seems adamant about prolonging your suffering as long as possible). Until then, you’re going to have to find some other ways to keep the grease and grime from building on you. Heavens know that you already have a thriving ecosystem living in the back of your couch—you don’t need another one growing under your armpits. 
Lucky for you, you have friends. More importantly, you have friends who have showers. There is one problem though—all your friends live on the other side of the country. 
It’s been two years since you moved to the Big City™️, but you have done little to grow your social network. Call it introversion or depression, either way, you have no more contacts on your phone than you did when you left your hometown. Well, except for one person, if you could even consider him one. Frankly, you didn’t have a choice.
“Welcome to my humble abode, stinky,” Jimin greets you as you enter his house. Your nose is instantly assaulted by the smell of Bath & Body Works® Sweet Pea, reminding you once more why you didn’t consider him a friend. 
“Hey,” you reply gruffly, shucking your ratty shoes near his entrance. Your shoes look incredibly out of place amidst the sea of designer Chelsea boots and a singular pair of thigh-high heels. You take a glance at his living room, already feeling worse about yourself tenfold.
You had met Park Jimin by complete accident, much like how his mother probably felt when she first saw him too. You had never known anyone quite as… interesting as him, to put it lightly. 
When you got your job as a hostess for a luxury bar and restaurant, you figured you wouldn’t make many friends with your coworkers. Everyone was so… pretty, but in the shiny, untouchable sort of way. Almost all of the servers were as gorgeous as the models you’d see in magazines. You hadn’t known that the owners only hired a certain “demographic” of people for their restaurant, and you were equal parts flattered and disgusted that you’d somehow made it (though you suppose your bullshitting skills were all to thank). 
Unsurprisingly, even the bartenders were gorgeous, including one Park Jimin. He did have an aura to him that screamed “I’m a cut above the rest and I know it,” but that could just be the gold chains dripping down his neck. You almost mistook him as one of the patrons who mistakenly made his way behind the bar, and knowing the sort of clientele you’ve had to deal with so far, you wouldn’t have been surprised. It took a couple of weeks before you finally found out who he was (and what his fucking problem was).
Jimin was a part-time bartender with a full-time job as a bitch a self-made entrepreneur. Which is to say, he sold… tasteful photos of himself on the internet. You had nothing against his line of work. In fact, you would go far as to say you didn’t give a shit what he did outside of your shared workspace. But if there’s one thing Jimin is, it’s that he hates being ignored. 
So when you were adamant about not oohing and aahing at everything that makes Park Jimin perfect, he made it his self-appointed mission to befriend you. Or at least that’s what he claims, but given how he treats you lesser than the shit that cakes his cheeks, you have a lot of doubts. Perhaps he’s never made an effort to make a friend, hence his inexperience with being a decent human being. Or perhaps he’s just an asshole, but who is to say? The point is: he’s the only person you knew in this godforsaken city who would likely allow you to use his shower without being awkward about it and that’s that. 
The worst part about being an acquaintance with Park Jimin was that he lived in the richest area of Downtown but he wasn’t old money, that’s for sure. His entire essence screamed overconsumption, and his myriad of little trinkets littered across his apartment confirmed your previous assessment. You wouldn’t be surprised if you opened his freezer and found ten types of ice sorted assorted by color and shape like the extra bitch that he was. 
He made his money through sheer force, and it would have impressed you if he wasn’t, you know. Him.
“Bathroom is over there. I placed a towel and other shower amenities that you can borrow,” he says pointing to a door with a large “FART ZONE: ENTER WITH CAUTION” sign taped to it. You don’t ask.
“Thanks,” you say flatly. You wait patiently for his out-of-pocket comment. 
Like clockwork, Jimin smirks. “Sure thing. I gave you the super heavy-duty stuff. Figured you’d burn a hole through my expensive towels with how stinky you are, with your yeasty cu—”
“Aaaand I’ll be done in a few minutes. Thanks again Jimin,” you interrupt, making your way to the bathroom and slamming the door with as much force as you can muster. You hear something fall as the door shuts, and you vaguely hear Jimin mutter something about his “fart zone” signage. 
You begin to prepare your shower routine, humming lowly as you go about your business. You try to ignore the suffocating scent of ten million diffusers entering your nostrils, wondering for the umpteenth time if Jimin is suffering from long-term olfactory dysfunction. 
“Focus, Y/N. The quicker you shower, the quicker you can get the fuck out of here,” you whisper to yourself. However, in your haste, you knock over Jimin’s towel by accident. When the towel falls, a sheet of sandpaper slips out from underneath it, and you stare bemusedly until it finally hits you.
“YOU ARE SUCH A LITTLE BITCH!” 
From behind the door, you can hear Jimin’s infamous cackle. “Did you find the loofah? I got it just for you, darling!” he shouts back through his laughter, and you just grumble back in response. How on earth no one has strangled him to death, you have no idea.
“Whatever. I’m gonna shower now! Go beat off or whatever the fuck you do in your spare time,” you grouse, stripping as quickly as possible.
When the first droplets of water hit your body, you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. You had both anticipated and dreaded going to Jimin’s house, but you desperately needed the shower. So you go through your routine, trying to find some semblance of relaxation throughout the process. However, it seems that Jimin was yearning for a little bit of attention as he chose to recline on the other side of the door and chat your ear off. Peace was never an option, it seems.
“Hey, Y/N! So why haven’t I seen you at work recently?” Jimin hollers from his living room. Despite the wall separating you, his voice manages to retain its volume.
You squirt a large glob of Jimin’s (expensive) conditioner onto your hands. “What do you mean? I go to work every day. You were the one who hasn’t been clocking in.”
You can hear Jimin scoff. “Um, correction! I went to work last Friday, which so happened to be your day off. If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed you were avoiding me.”
And right you are, you think. But instead, you say, “Yeah, what a coincidence. I’ll be back to my regular schedule on Monday, though.”
“So that means you didn’t see the Justin Bieber wannabe stationed outside the restaurant then?” Jimin asks, voice miffed. “The guy suddenly sat down by the entrance window and a whole damn crowd started to appear! The absolute nerve of these people—don’t they know Park Jimin was just past the doors?” 
This provokes Jimin to go on his long epic soliloquy, which you’ve learned to drown out over the past two years. He could go on hour-long tirades if he wanted, and any interruption from you would just bounce off his nonfunctioning ears. And so, you allow his voice to fall to the back of your mind, similar to white noise if it wasn’t so grating.
However, this was likely your greatest mistake. If you hadn’t been so exhausted, or if Park Jimin hadn’t been so damn annoying all the time, or if the stars had aligned just right… Maybe you would have been forewarned about the incident. It’s as if the universe was screaming at you to pay attention, but alas… You were standing on the proverbial highway, unbeknownst to the incoming traffic because you had your metaphorical AirPods on.
So there you are, completely showered but none the wiser to your impending doom, naively looking to the future with unsuspecting eyes. Even if you had known of what was to come, would avoiding it even be possible? In hindsight, you suppose not, but you still kick yourself for being so blind. If only you’d steeled your heart, then maybe you wouldn’t have felt like vomiting in front of a crowd of innocent bystanders the very next day.
xxx
Monday comes and your shower still isn’t fixed. Jimin makes the benevolent gesture of allowing you to use his shower in the meantime, though you’ll only partake in his offer as minimally as possible. He does mention that he’ll need at least an hour’s notice, warning you about “accidental voyeurism.” You shudder to think of what sort of horror you might find if you did visit him without warning, and you pray for the continued well-being of your retinas.
On your way to work, you’re too busy watching cute videos of animals to notice the unusual flock of people idling close to your workplace. When you get closer, however, the growing commotion is enough to rip your gaze away from your phone, and the sight of the large crowd makes you stop in your tracks. 
It is 4 pm and the usual line of waiting patrons should not start piling up for another three hours, so this confuses you more than anything. You shuffle closer, squinting at the crowd until you notice that they aren’t lined up at all; instead, they have congregated into a large circle, but you are too far to see what they are surrounding. 
An accident? You worry, wondering if something terrible happened. You tiptoe above the heads of people, subtly moving forward to take a better look. Curse you and your curiosity. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself to see something grotesque or astonishing, but instead…
It’s worse.
Inching closer, you can begin to hear a soft thrumming of a guitar and a gentle singing voice that causes alarm bells to ring in your ears. The warm melody digs up old memories of a time long past: of ballads sung outside your childhood bedroom window, of promises whispered under Spiderman sheets, of tender caresses tucking stray hairs behind your ears… They flood your senses, but all you can feel is dread.
It can’t be who you think it is. You accidentally elbow a guy on your way to get closer, unsteadying his grip on his phone. 
“Hey, watch it! I’m filming a totally not-staged TikTok over here!” He yells, but you can hardly pay attention to him when you feel unnaturally drawn to come closer, still. 
You’re nearly at the front, with just a couple of teenagers standing between you and the (not-so) mysterious street performer. But the distance is enough, and your breath catches. You can see him—
Black hair partially hidden under a bucket hat. Boots bigger than Pangaea and a pair of eyes equally as large. Dark ink snaking down his arms, peeking out from under oversized sleeves. Piercings that could rival Park Jimin on a good day. He isn’t facing you, but you can still see his big doe eyes, gentle sloping nose, and pretty lips stretched into a handsome smile.
Your heart is thundering in your chest. This can’t be happening, you panic. After two whole years of rebuilding and reshaping yourself, relearning how to be yourself and not… not just his girlfriend.
Jeon Jungkook stands before you, busking in front of your workplace of all locations. The universe could not have been any crueler to you.
You—you had been known as nothing more than Jeon Jungkook’s high school sweetheart. Buried memories of snide comments from jealous teen girls fill your mind, reminding you of the time when you were coined a simple side piece to the main attraction. Decor, as they would call you. Nothing more than a girl who happened to snag Jungkook before people realized he was going to turn… hot. A hot guy who could sing. An inevitable chic magnet, as they would call him. 
And now, years later after much therapy and soul searching, your worst nightmare is standing in front of you in the flesh. This is what you will eventually dub the incident. 
At that moment, however, there is little to no time to dwell on naming this ongoing core memory. All you can feel is the adrenaline pumping through your veins, as well as the nausea rising up your throat. You stumble backward, blatantly shoving onlookers away as you struggle to find some air to breathe. In hindsight, you probably should have backed away as subtly as possible, but you hope that your dyed hair might be different enough that Jungkook wouldn’t know it was you if he had glanced your way. 
Even when you stagger towards your work establishment, the walls cannot perfectly muffle his soothing singing. You can’t make out the lyrics to his song too well, but his unmistakable voice is hard to ignore. Working as a hostess, your station is also coincidentally as close to the door as possible for maximum torture. 
This can’t get any worse, you think as your mind races with conflicting emotions. You thought you had moved on, thought you were past the pain and the memories, but seeing Jungkook again, unexpectedly, stirs up a storm of feelings you thought were buried deep. Anger, hurt, betrayal—all rush to the surface, threatening to overwhelm you.
But there is no time to unpack all that baggage right now. Time will continue to march on, and your job is still on the line. How can you have the time to have a mental breakdown when you were still living paycheck to paycheck?
But even as you try to push Jungkook out of your mind, his voice echoes in your ears, his image burned into your memory. It's as if the universe is laughing at your misery, reminding you that despite all your supposed growth, you are still just you. 
Painfully and pathetically you.
As you struggle to pull yourself together, a familiarly loud voice rings outside the edge of your consciousness. “Hey, Y/N! Fancy seeing you here…” Jimin greets you, his usual jovial demeanor halting midway when he sees your panicked expression. He clears his throat, perplexed. “Umm… Are you alright there, girl? You’re looking a little pale.”
You do not even have the mental capacity to wonder why Park Jimin was miraculously early to his shift, nor why he seems genuinely worried for you. Rather, all you can do is wave him off and use what little time you have before the restaurant opens to steel yourself for hours of melodious torture. 
“I’m fine, Park. You should get to work,” you grit out, wiping your sweaty palms on your uniform. Normally, Jimin would have teased you about the obvious wrinkles on your skirt. 
“You’re not the boss of me,” Jimin huffs, always the contrarian. He thinks better of it, however, and softens his tone. “Are you feeling sick or something? You look like you just saw a ghost.”
You freeze, perhaps giving yourself away a little. “I’m fine,” you repeat. 
“You know, if you refuse to elaborate, I’m going to have to retract your shower privileges,” Jimin taunts with a smirk. 
You feel a migraine growing by your temple, making you wince. God, why must men be the source of all your problems?
“I’m just… a little annoyed by the busker outside the restaurant,” you eventually admit, trying to be vague. Unfortunately for you, Jimin hates beating around the bush and would never take your crap if he knows something is up.
Unable to withstand the weight of his unimpressed stare, you clarify, “He was someone I used to know, that’s all.” You aren’t going to be any more specific than that, though you imagine Jimin gets the picture. You zip your lips, hoping to whoever is causing you pain that Jimin would somehow let the matter drop and leave you to your misery.
You brace yourself for his onslaught of questioning to come, and… it doesn’t happen. Instead, when you glance at Jimin, he is mysteriously stone faced. You wait for him to speak for what feels like a few minutes, but he doesn’t show any signs of wanting to tease or ridicule you. He simply watches you with a pensive expression. You can barely stop yourself from staring back at him, slack-jawed at his silence. 
Of course, you aren’t just going to question your luck, or what little you have at least. So, you stay silent back and fidget uncomfortably.
Finally, Jimin seems to snap out of his strange reverie. He fixes you with a bizarrely sympathetic grin, patting you affectionately on the back. “I see… Well, if you ever need a drink tonight, head over to the bar for a little sip. I got you covered,” is all he says in response before sashaying away. 
That was so fucking weird. You want to chase after him, perhaps beat the truth out of him. Jimin is nothing but a scheming dick, and you aren’t about to let him roam free with such sensitive information about yourself. Just as you’re about to stomp his ass (perhaps to relieve some of the building tension from your weary soul), your manager pops his head from his office door. 
“Y/N! Make sure you’re logged into the booking system. There’s going to be a party of 20 coming in about an hour,” he reminds you, shooting you an apologetic look. You nod back with a sigh, swiping the booking tablet from the hostess desk and scrolling through the logs. Sure enough, it is going to be a busy night despite being a Monday evening. Perhaps a little busier than usual, in fact.
Whatever. You will use whatever distraction you can get, and perhaps the approaching noise from the restaurant patrons will be enough to drown out the sound of his voice. 
You aren’t religious by any means, but you pray to whatever higher power exists that Jeon Jungkook doesn’t somehow decide to enter the restaurant. Stay outside, you plead. Outside the restaurant and your life, if possible.
Throughout the evening, you do your best to push aside the memories that threaten to resurface. You greet customers with a smile, lead them to their tables, and ensure their dining experience is pleasant despite the anxiety poisoning your insides. It's a routine you've perfected over time, a shield against the chaos of your emotions.
As the night wears on, you can feel Jimin's eyes on you from across the restaurant. You sneak glances back at him, and you blanch at his pitying gaze. If the restaurant had been slightly less crowded, you would have flipped him off. 
He’s probably enjoying my suffering, you think darkly. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, you straighten up and do your best to appear more unaffected. Just as you do so, you can hear Jungkook perfectly hitting a soulful high note. 
“I’m so sorry for thinking I was strong,” you whisper to the universe. “Forgive me for my insolence.” You clench your fist in anguish, ignoring the confused looks from the customers in front of you. 
By the time your shift comes to a close, you are completely and utterly drained. You feel like a snail that has been continuously salted over the past eight hours, and you cannot help but cheer in relief when the clock finally strikes two in the morning. You have to wait for the last few diners to make their leave, but otherwise you are ready to let your bed swallow you whole. 
You stand by your hostess desk, leaning your head against it with a defeated sigh. Jungkook’s voice had died down only a few minutes ago, and you hope that by this point he has mercifully left the premises. You want to take a peek to make sure, but just as you’re about to make your way to the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder stop you in your tracks.
“‘Sup, bitch.” Jimin still has that weird, pitying gaze pointed at you, though his words don’t match it. “Are you okay to go home alone tonight? I can bring your dumb ass home if you want.”
You shove his hand away, ready to bite his head off when you think better of it. If Jimin drives you home, then that lowers the chances of seeing Jungkook down to pretty much zero. 
“You know what? Thanks,” you grouse. Jimin smiles at you winningly, and the image of it brings a shiver down your spine. You hit him, creeped out. “Hey. Stop that, will you? You’re being really weird?”
Jimin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Me? Weird? At least I don’t look like a damn firework ready to explode just because my cringelord ex-boyfriend is singing sappy love songs outside—”
“Shut the fuck up,” you seethe, stomping on his foot. He yelps in pain and slaps your shoulder in retaliation. 
“Ouch! Watch your ogre feet! My shoes are worth twice your monthly rent I’ll have you know,” he bristles. He breathes deeply, likely finding his inner calm (which you doubt exists). “But because I’m so nice, I’ll ignore your earlier transgression and blame it on your underdeveloped amygdala.”
You don’t know what’s more surprising: the fact that Jimin knew what an amygdala was or that he was forgiving you in the first place. “Whatever. Let’s finish closing up and then head out. I’m exhausted.”
You make quick work of your task and when you’re ready to head out, Jimin is already waiting by the backdoor. He’s twirling his car keys with a finger and gestures for you to follow him. As you make your way to his car in the back parking lot, you catch sight of a lone figure standing next to a beat-up pickup truck. He’s leaning against it, his hands busy tuning a battered guitar.
Your breath hitches, and you immediately feel nauseous. Of course the incident has yet to end. The night is young, after all.
Jimin accidentally slams the backdoor closed, and the noise wrenches Jungkook’s attention away from his ministrations. Immediately, his eyes lock with Jimin before finally turning to you. 
Your heart skips a beat as he gazes at you, your mind racing with a hurricane of emotions. You hadn’t expected to see him again so soon, especially not after the tumultuous encounter earlier in the day. What did you say earlier? That “the chances of seeing Jungkook was down to pretty much zero”? 
The chances of seeing Jungkook is low, but never zero, your mind unhelpfully supplies.
There is a long period of awkward silence. Jungkook has his mouth slightly agape, his hand subconsciously lowering his guitar to rest against his truck. To your left, Jimin’s breathing quickens slightly. You, on the other hand, are trying your best not to projectile vomit in this damned parking lot. 
Jungkook is the one who decides to break the delicate silence. “Is that you…?” he calls out hesitantly. 
Don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my—
“Y/N,” Jimin interjects. His gaze is steel cold, uncharacteristic of the carefree boy. He slings an arm around your shoulders, gently nudging you towards his car. With your view still fixed on Jungkook, you miss the way Jimin shoots the other boy with a playful smirk. “C’mon, babe. Let’s go home.”
His words startle both you and Jungkook. “Wha—? Jimin?” you splutter, flushing at his flirtatious undertone. You want to curse him out for his strange behavior, but all the shock has left you mute. 
Jimin all but shoves you into the passenger seat. But just as he’s about to slam the car door, you hear Jungkook call out your name. It’s fleeting and quiet, but you heard him crystal clear.
It breaks your spirit to hear him say your name. For a moment, you feel as though you are floating.
When was the last time he called your name? And so softly, too? If you could replay that moment over and over, would you be able to catch some signs of tenderness in his voice? When you close your eyes later that night, would your dreams show you that he had been gazing at you with yearning? Was any of it true?
As Jimin starts the car and pulls away from the curb, you steal one last glance out the window, only to find Jungkook staring at you with an arm outstretched. You continue to watch him until his figure disappears into the night. 
You are quietly immersed in your own thoughts, the whirlwind of emotions intensifying your persistent migraine. Unaccustomed to silence, Jimin decides to give his unsolicited two cents, as per usual.
“Geez. Didn’t know you were into the whole starving artist type. If I’d known, then maybe I’d stop trying to brag about my fortune to you,” Jimin scoffs. “If loser buskers like him impress you, then maybe I should—”
“Would you shut the fuck up for once in your fucking life!” You explode, whirling to face him with a glare. Jimin has the audacity to flinch, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the road. 
“What the fuck? Why the hell are you mad at me?” 
“What the hell was that back there? ‘C’mon babe.’” You mimic his voice with a sneer. “Why on earth would you do that? Now he thinks that we…”
“Why do you care what he thinks? He’s your ex, remember?” Jimin cuts you off, but you can’t even refute him. He continues, “Figured as much. And judging by how spooked you’ve looked all day, I have to assume that he was an asshole, right? Why else would you accept my offer for a ride home if you really wanted to avoid seeing him?”
You shrink under his accurate assumptions. Damn, were you really that easy to read? “I… I mean, yeah but…” You clear your throat, still feeling wronged by him. “You didn’t have to act like a weird prick in front of him!”
Without warning, the floodgates burst forth. You begin to ramble, the thoughts that have been weighing you down pouring out of you in waves. “Jungkook was my ex, yeah. But he wasn’t an asshole. On the contrary, he was really sweet. The nicest guy in my school, at least. Wouldn’t hurt a fly, that sort of person. I dated him all throughout high school and he was a great partner.”
Jimin hums skeptically. “Then why the messy break-up?”
“It wasn’t messy!” You retort defensively. 
“Could’ve fooled me!” Jimin snorts. “I also frequently act like a trembling kitten when I see my exes,” he says sarcastically. 
You ignore him. “The reason we broke it off was because he wanted to pursue his dreams to become a singer after high school and I wanted to do other things. It was a mutual break-up! Honestly, I’m glad that we did. Too many girls wanted him and all the unwanted attention was getting on my nerves. I was glad to find a reason to end it all,” you explain, hoping you didn’t sound as shaky as you felt. What you said was mostly true, though you left out the important bits to yourself. Mostly to save some of your dignity intact. (Truthfully, you just didn’t want to admit things you weren’t ready to face.)
“Then if you’re so glad, why do you look like you wanted to shit yourself? It ain’t adding up,” Jimin fires back.
“It’s just—” you stammer, trying to find a reason why you were so bent out of shape after seeing him. “I-I was caught off guard, I guess. I knew he was pursuing his dreams to sing and all, so I expected him to leave the country. I wasn’t expecting to see him outside where I work, of all places,” you mutter lamely. You have your head bowed, biting your lips from the nerves. Again, you weren’t totally lying. 
Jimin is silent for a moment, contemplating your admission. When he looks so calm like this, it’s hard to get a read on what he’s thinking. As Jimin speeds down the highway, the street lights illuminate his face in a strange way, and for once, he looks like a stranger. His steely expression makes you nervous, for some reason. 
Eventually, he asks you a question you would never have expected. “And he just let you go?”
You pause. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” Jimin huffs, irritated. “He just up and left without a fight? If I were him, I would have…” he trails off, his jaw clenching. 
You don’t know where this Jimin came from. Under the moonlight, Jimin looks livid, but that can’t be right. Jimin, mad for you? Sure, you’ve seen his anger directed towards you, but this? Everything’s gotten so complicated, and you are just about ready to succumb to sleep and hope to wake from this nightmare.
The rest of the drive to your house is silent, save for the sounds coming from passing cars. Jimin pulls up to your apartment complex, his mysterious anger finally subsiding. 
Just as you’re about to reach for the car door handle, Jimin places a hand on your shoulder. “Listen, Y/N. I’ll talk to management tomorrow morning. I know the manager well enough that I can probably convince him to do something about that ex of yours. He’s busking on private property, so it should be easy to get rid of him,” Jimin says, tone serious. He swallows, and for a moment you think he looks a little nervous. “If that’s what you want, I guess.”
His kindness scares you. You want to tease him, ask him where Mr. Bitchy and his $2000 Chelsea boots had gone. Anything to make this air of severe sincerity to abate. This new Jimin feels suffocating. But instead, you nod your head stiffly. 
Jimin makes a pained expression for a moment, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual playful smirk. He slaps you upside the head, laughing heartily at your stunned face. 
“Get some rest, babe. I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” he chuckles, reaching over to open the door for you. You scramble out into the cold city air, taking one last look back at him through his window.
He rolls it down, leaning forward to flash a toothy grin at you. “Hey, stop with all the angst, pookie. Wouldn’t want my favorite toy to get sick from overthinking. Who else would I bother at work if not you?”
You snort, both endeared and irritated in equal measure. He’s right. Everything was going back to normal tomorrow, you’re sure of it. You flip him off with a cheeky grin before making your way to your apartment.
Everything is going to be okay. Jimin says he’ll do something about it, and for whatever reason, you feel like you can trust him on this. Surely good fortune was soon to be upon you. 
xxx
Jimin had texted you while you were still sleeping:
Spoke to Manager Jeong about your little problem. He said he’ll deal with him.
You breathe a sigh of relief, your body feeling significantly lighter. Your sleep last night had been tumultuous and restless. You feel more tired than you did when you went to bed, but all your weariness fades once you read Jimin’s text. 
Once you make it to work, you find that management has gotten rid of Jungkook somehow. Added with the fact that your landlord has promised to look into repairing your shower (no guarantees, but you want to stay optimistic), today has been significantly better compared to yesterday. You even catch yourself humming as you set up your workstation, a small smile gracing your lips.
Jimin has a later shift this evening, and you find that you are somewhat disappointed for once. Your overwhelming gratitude is surely the only reason, otherwise you would never admit to wanting to see him at any given time. 
You are in the midst of texting Jimin about all the good news when your manager passes by your desk. You are quick to pocket your phone away from his prying eyes, ready to defend that you aren’t slacking off… but his demeanor does not reveal any ire. In fact, he looks rather pleased for once.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeong. What’s up?” you ask, suspicious. You instinctively fold your hands behind your back; it is a subconscious effort on your part to keep your distance from him. Something about your manager always gives you a bad feeling when he looks a little too happy. 
He grins widely. “Everything is going splendidly, Ms. Y/N. In fact, I think today might just be our lucky day!”
Never during your time working here has his and your luck ever coincided. “Our lucky day?” you echo.
“Why, yes! I spoke with your lovely friend and coworker Jimin this morning,” he starts, and immediately your alarm bells ring. You don’t even bother correcting him about the ‘friend’ part like you normally would. He continues, “He gave me a brilliant idea about the busker who had been performing in front of the restaurant the past two days.”
You nod slowly, not quite understanding. “Yes… The busker has been quite… the spectacle,” you say carefully. Somehow, you know calling Jungkook a ‘nuisance’ would have been the wrong choice in this instance.
Manager Jeong beams. “Exactly! You must have noticed the amount of people we served yesterday despite being a Monday. Additionally, almost all of those new customers requested outdoor seating no less!”
You feel the world tilt on its axis. What is he on abou—?
“What are you talking about?” you exhale.
“Don’t you think it would be even better for business if we got that busker to perform inside the restaurant? Why, it’s a brilliant idea and I don’t know why I didn’t think of it first! Our live band has always been missing something special, and perhaps a vocal accompaniment is the exact answer to our problem! Think about it, the atmosphere would be…”
Manager Jeong continues to prattle animatedly about his plans to your unhearing ears. There must be static or cotton plugging your head because you cannot possibly understand anything he is saying. Jungkook? Inside? Performing at your restaurant? But Jimin said he had spoken to the manager about getting Jungkook away from you! None of this makes sense. 
“That makes no sense,” you verbalize, unknowingly cutting Manager Jeong from his monologue. He halts in surprise, as if now just realizing you were standing there (much less capable of interrupting or disagreeing with him). When he snaps out of it, you sense that familiarly sinister aura emerging from him in waves. You belatedly realize he must have mistaken your outburst as antagonistic.
“Well, Ms. Y/N. Whether it makes sense or not, we have hired Mr. Jeon to perform live at the bar stage for the next four weeknights. If, for some unknowable reason, I am incorrect,” he pauses to emphasize his words, “then his services will be promptly terminated. However, judging by his popularity from simply standing out in the cold and singing silly love songs, I am sure that worry is unwarranted.”
Behind you, the telltale sound of the main door swinging open catches you even more off guard. You do not even have the chance to turn to face the newcomer, only managing to register the gust of cold wind that accompanies their entry.
And so, you hear him before you see him. 
“Hello?” Jeon Jungkook greets quietly.
Even without turning, you can imagine how he looks, how he stands, how he feels, how he tastes—
Manager Jeong claps his hands gleefully. “Splendid timing! Speak of the devil…” The older man nearly skips towards Jungkook like a youthful school girl, accompanied by his uncharacteristic squeals of excitement. 
You can feel his gaze on you, almost tangibly. With nothing but your shreds of dignity left intact, you force yourself to face him. 
He’s still so tall, is all your mind can helpfully supply as you stand feet away from your high school sweetheart for the first time in two years. He’s still wearing the same bucket hat from the night before, semi-shielding him from view. Despite that, you catch a small flash of white graze his bottom lip as he chews the soft flesh nervously.
“Hi, Y/N.” He addresses you directly, completely overlooking your manager without a single glance. Despite his hat, he still has his eyes lasered on you, as if not quite believing you were there. You hate how his attention makes you shiver all the same. 
Even though he ignored your manager (which would have been a major dispute had you done the same), Jungkook still receives a friendly handshake in return. “Mr. Jeon! I’m surprised you know Ms. Y/N, though I’m sure you must have spoken with her when she was escorting guests to the outdoor seating the other day.”
You had actually gotten your co-hostess to seat all the outdoor seatings yesterday, but you weren’t going to mention that.
Manager Jeong claps him on the back, inadvertently causing Jungkook to stumble forward closer to you. He looks up at you then, eyes bugging out of their sockets like a rabbit caught in a bear trap. You stagger backwards in turn, barely concealing the anxiety on your face. Oh fucking hell.
Your manager is none the wiser, of course. “Well, this makes my job much easier! Since you’re both acquainted, I’ll let Y/N show you the ropes. The band doesn’t start their set until later in the evening, but you’re free to take a look at the stage and other parts of our facility in the meantime,” he says, chuffed. Meanwhile, Jungkook looks like he’s been shot by a freeze ray. 
Then, your manager points a sharper gaze at you. “Ms. Y/N, treat our super star well. I know you won’t disappoint me.”
Fucking superstar… You can only nod in defeat. “Y-Yes, sir…” you whisper, clenching your uniform with your fists. It is the only way to keep them from shaking like a leaf. You watch as his figure disappears behind his office door, leaving you to fend for yourself. Powerless, you train your gaze to the floor, unwilling to meet Jungkook’s eyes. 
But the nerves are taking control of your body, screaming at you to eject, eject, eject!
“Sorry, I have to go to the toilet,” you splutter quickly, almost tripping over yourself on the way to the restroom. You dimly wonder if Jungkook is going to think you’re leaving to throw up, but you can’t find any self-respect left to care. All you need is air and space to breathe—preferably away from him. 
You slam open the stall, hardly checking to see if anyone else is around before locking the door shut. You sit on the toilet, plant your face between your knees, and scream. 
Should you go home and use sickness as an excuse? But even if you did, you still had shifts every weeknight. You would have to see him eventually. You can pray all you want that Jungkook will be fired by the end of the week, but even your delusional mind can never fathom the idea that anyone would willingly want to send Jeon Jungkook away. Plus, you remember that the regular band that plays at the restaurant has been wanting to get a singer to accompany them for ages, and you know just how damn affable he can be. They are going to love him, and you hate him for that.
It is clear to you that there is no other option:
You pull out your phone to quickly open up Indeed on your browser, frantically hunting for any openings that might fit your measly qualifications. However, you have to pause in your search to deliberate. Wouldn’t it be better to move out of the country? You had been so naive to think that moving cities was enough distance between you and Jungkook—going across the ocean is the obvious answer. Should you start up your Duolingo lessons again and hope that you can somehow survive in a different continent with only a few dollars to your name? 
You shut your phone in despair. Whether or not your plans of escape are feasible or not, in the short term, you are stuck with having to suck it up and just learn to ignore your ex-boyfriend’s presence. Surely you can force out a fake smile or two, especially with how much practice you’ve gotten after working with unbearably entitled customers. 
Taking a step outside of the restroom stall, you head to the sink to splash some cold on your face. You stare at the mirror, confronted by a girl who looks two seconds away from having a Netflix Original-esque meltdown. You rake your fingers through your hair, doing your best to look like you aren’t about to rush into incoming traffic. To no one's surprise, it doesn't work.
“Okay, I got this. Just pretend like he’s just some guy, because at the end of the day, he is just some guy,” you mutter to your reflection. She looks back at you unconvinced. “He may have broken my heart into little bite size pieces, but who cares! HE’S JUST A GUY!” You repeat the phrase over and over again like a lunatic, in a desperate attempt to cognitively alter your brain chemistry.
At that moment, one of the other stalls in the restroom creaks open, and a girl you recognize who works as one of the dishwashers walks out. You both have a silent eye conversation as she quietly studies your crazed expression and crumpled work uniform. 
Eventually, she awkwardly clears her throat, pointing to the only sink in the restroom. “Uh, sorry to hear about your, uh, guy problem. Could I use the sink please?” 
You hastily back away, allowing her to take your spot. You don’t even have the energy to apologize for your spectacle, just bowing sheepishly to her before making your way back to the main hall. If she rats you out to the rest of your coworkers, then that gives you another reason to move out of the country. Maybe you should consider a name change while you’re at it.
When you exit the restroom, you half expect Jungkook to be waiting for you by the door, but find that he isn’t anywhere nearby. He isn’t by your hostess station either, and you thank your lucky stars for once. Even if your manager had asked you to show him around, you’re sure that Jungkook can find his way around just fine. Plus, the stage is at the corner of the restaurant and is sufficiently far enough that you wouldn’t have to make eye contact with him if you were careful. 
You don’t know which greater entity has been messing with your sanity these past few days, but you hope that they can show you mercy just once—a brief reprieve, if anything. 
You clasp your hands in prayer. I’ll eat more vegetables, I’ll remember to floss, I’ll call my parents from time to time… Just please let me survive tonight. 
“Remember, Y/N… He’s just some guy,” you reiterate through gritted teeth. If a passing coworker happens to overhear your demented chanting, then you pay them no mind.
You walk towards the entrance, flipping the sign to open. You feel like a video game character when you glance at the clock, which signals the start of your shift. You can imagine the red bold text hovering above your head: 8 more hours until freedom. 
This is just like playing Five Nights at Freddy’s, except you’ve only watched the movie and you suspect your life is probably worse than whatever Josh Hutcherson had to survive through. 
You take a couple heaving breaths to brace yourself for what will be the longest eight hours of your life. You’ll show Jungkook just how well-adjusted and mature you’ve become. You are a professional, and not even a boy with angelic vocals will make you crumble. After all, what’s the worst he can do? 
xxx
He could, in fact, do a lot worse than you thought. 
“I have many regrets being born at all,” you mutter bleakly, three hours into your shift. 
Jungkook had started singing only an hour ago, so you had been filled with false confidence at first when the restaurant was filled with nothing but ambient chatter and soothing jazz music. You felt more and more confident as the minutes ticked by and your anxiety slowly melted away. You even forgot that he was somewhere in the back, likely warming up or whatever it is that singers did before a performance. 
However, your brief moment of courage shatters almost immediately when Jungkook finally takes the stage. 
At first, you did your best to tune out his voice, but it’s especially hard when whoever was in charge of the sound system decided to crank his volume to an excruciating level. You wanted desperately to grab some napkins and shove them in your ears, but you suspected that your customers (and manager) would be unappreciative of that gesture. And so there you lay, forced to wallow in Jungkook’s melodious singing like a criminal strapped to an electric chair.
But how much more pleasant an electric chair would be! Why on earth was Jungkook so adamant to sing sad love songs the entire time? Why couldn’t he be like his other singing contemporaries, who loved to write songs about getting bitches and making money? At the very least, even if he wasn’t quite a platinum selling artist just yet, surely he was constantly sharing beds with anyone he pleases? Couldn’t he sing about that?!
(In the back of your mind, you wonder if it would be less painful to learn that Jungkook has slept with multiple people… Because then, it would mean that he had moved on while you stood alone on your island, stranded and yearning.)
You didn’t want to think too deeply about his lyrics. However, you're only human. So when your mind barrier failed and you caught snippets of his singing, you noticed a pattern. There was always a girl in his songs. She was omnipresent, and Jungkook was always pleading for her. Begging and aching and wanting. But most all… he was always repenting. In every song, he always whispered a pious apology. 
You feared what would happen if you turned around in those moments of weakness. You were terrified of admitting something, of letting words spill that had been trapped in your throat for the better part of two years. 
Lucky for you, salvation comes in the form of one Park Jimin. Though, can you even count him as your savior when he had also inadvertently caused your demise?
Jimin doesn’t even have a shift today, so you’re more than surprised when his bright blonde head stumbles through the restaurant doors. His expensive coat is askew and his signature designer shades are nowhere to be found. He is panic incarnate—an expression you have never seen on his face before.
“Holy fuck,” he greets, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. His profanity startles the elderly couple waiting to be seated, their glares menacingly sharp. To his credit, Jimin doesn’t even seem phased.
In lieu of an answer, you gesture vaguely behind you. You can imagine how dejected you must look. “Holy fuck indeed,” you sigh.
It takes a moment for Jimin to regain his bearings. He straightens up and pats down his coat, but his hair is still tousled by the wind. If not for the fact that he has a car, you might have thought he had run all the way here. 
“I am so sorry. I didn’t know this was going to happen,” he starts, genuinely remorseful. “I texted Manager Jeong this morning and he said he’d get your ex to leave, but I didn’t think he’d offer the damn bastard a job!”
“Mind your language, Park. I’m still at work,” you scold. You try your best to ignore the scrutinizing gaze of the elderly couple. You lower your voice. “And don’t apologize. I know you’re an asshole, but I doubt you’d actually prey on my downfall like this. I know you’re not into public humiliation.”
Jimin brightens slightly at your joke, but he still looks like a guilty puppy who'd been caught shitting on the carpet. “Yeah, well. I happen to enjoy tormenting you and I won’t let some upstart Charlie Puth wannabe ruin your life. That’s my job.”
You smile wryly at him. “Well, that’s too bad. Jungkook’s been singing for a few hours now and I’m pretty sure Manager Jeong is going to keep him long-term. He might have broken my heart, but damn does he have vocals. I'm sure you'll have plenty competition when it comes to 'who can make Y/N's life feel like hell.'”
Jimin doesn't smile back, but instead studies your face for a moment. Then:
“Do you think if I offer to suck Manager Jeong off, he’ll fire him?”
“What the fuck?” You nearly yell out in surprise, your jaw dropping to the floor. Judging by his serious scowl, you know he's actually considering it. By now, the elderly couple waiting to be seated have left the premises.
Jimin continues, unperturbed. “I know he secretly wants me, based on how his wife seems to have a personal vendetta against me. He definitely wants a taste of my bus—.”
“Stop, I get it!” You wave your hands to make him shut up, heat rising up your cheeks. “Never say that string of words to me ever again. You have just inflicted ten years of suffering onto my poor brain.”
“Hey, I’m just offering solutions here!” Jimin pouts. 
You stare at him, unimpressed. “Save it. You tried solving my problems already, so let’s just accept the fact that there’s nothing else for me to do but to suck it up. It’s time for me to put on my big girl pants for a change.”
“I mean, I could do all the sucking instead, but you’re being a little bitch about it,” Jimin mumbles. He’s lucky you didn’t hear him this time, lest you give him something to really whine about.
“Anyway, I guess this is my life now. Nothing to do except hope that he never tries to interact with me or I can find another job,” you shrug. 
Over your shoulder, Jimin fixes Jungkook with an icy glare that is cold enough to give you the shivers. For the first time that entire night, you hazard a glance back at the stage, finding that Jungkook is already looking back at you.
You whip your head back forward, perspiration forming down your back. For fuck’s sake, this guy.
“Well, let me know if he tries anything. I’ll beat that little freak into the floor if he tries so much as breathing the same air as you.” Jimin huffs, puffing up his chest with false bravado. You can’t help but laugh at his empty threat, knowing that Jungkook could probably bench press Jimin without breaking a sweat. Jimin's muscles are only for aesthetics, after all.
“Don’t worry, he hasn’t actually spoken to me actually. He can keep singing his sad little love songs, I really don’t mind,” you say, like a liar. Jimin snorts, wholly unconvinced.
“Well, if you need me, I’m heading to the bar to grab a drink so I can stare at your ex uncomfortably until he leaves. See you!” Jimin bids you farewell with a cheery grin as he skips a little too happily inside the restaurant.
Why'd you have to befriend the largest lunatic in the city? You massage your forehead with a groan, willing away your growing headache. 
The rest of the night trickles away like molasses. Jungkook continues to sing his heart out, save for an hour intermission where he presumably takes a short break. In his absence, you hear Jimin guffaw loudly, his laughter too sharp to be considered happy. You faintly hear Jungkook shy stutters in response, and you momentarily consider running in to interrupt.
Why? Did you want to save Jungkook from Jimin’s unnecessary harassment? It’s not like Jimin is doing it out nowhere, he was just trying to be… a good friend?
You pause to ponder. As much as you hate to admit it, you know why you want to help Jungkook. But Jimin on the other hand? Why did he want to help you? Questions begin flowing through your head like a whirlwind, and your nausea increases. God, when was your next therapy appointment again?
You save those questions for another day. As you look at your watch, there are only thirty minutes left until two in the morning. You tap your foot impatiently, smiling curtly at departing customers as the restaurant slowly emptied. As they left, you overhear some of your regulars giggling amongst themselves, whispering about the cute new singer and his charming demeanor. 
The last nail on your coffin has been hammered. Yeah, Jungkook isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. 
With the restaurant closing soon, it sounds like Jungkook is ready to end his set as well. 
Throughout the night, Jungkook rarely made a point to speak. The only time he didn’t sing was when he quietly introduced the title of his next song and the band swiftly began the first opening notes. For his last song, however, Jungkook decided to give a little more backstory for his final song. 
“Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for listening to me for the night,” Jungkook says with a soft voice, his tone awfully shy despite his powerful belting throughout the evening. The few customers left give him a warm round of applause, and you hear the familiar sound of his timid giggles spill from the restaurant speakers. 
“This will be my final song for the night. Most of the songs I sang today were covers, but this one is an original. I…” He hesitates for a moment, and something pulls you to turn despite the alarm bells ringing in your ears. You face him, and just like earlier in the evening, he is already looking back at you.
This time, you don’t look away; he does. His eyes flit to the ceiling, and he licks his lips from nerves. “I… I wrote this song a long while ago. I’ve never sang it in public before and I never thought it would ever see the light of day. Until, well…”
He stops again. This time, he gestures to the guitarist in the band, silently asking to borrow it. With a guitar in hand, he smiles a little more confidently at the small crowd of people. He begins strumming the first few notes, and your heart stops. “I hope everyone had a pleasant evening. Get home safe and have a great rest of your week. My name is Jungkook, and this last song is called…”
Before he can sing the first line of his song, you make a break for it.
You slam the restaurant doors open, and the stinging cold air immediately pierces their fangs into your skin. Your coat is still inside, but you can’t bring yourself to reenter. You take a long breath, the chill barely registering in your mind with how loudly your heart is pounding in your ears.
Hearing the opening to that song was enough to bring you back in time, three years ago:
You are in his childhood bedroom, his walls littered with concert posters and his floor a mess with unfolded laundry and guitar picks. The afternoon sun is streaming through his windows, bathing him in gold. You have an exam the next day and he has cram school to go to, but you’ve both chucked your books somewhere on his desk, left forgotten. 
He has his eyes closed, concentrated. You’re both on his small twin bed, squished together side by side and thighs touching. You have your head on his shoulder and he has his hands on his guitar. He strums a few chords experimentally and sings a melody that only the two of you know.
(Not anymore.)
“Are you writing a new song?” you ask, voice a little scratchy. Neither of you had spoken for the past few hours, just basking in the setting sun and Jungkook’s indistinct strumming. But now, his chords sound more sure, more certain of something.
“Yeah, I just thought of it,” he hums. He opens his eyes a smidge, a smitten smile on his lips. You mirror him. 
“What’s it about this time?”
His brows furrow. “I’ve been trying to write about other stuff, you know? Namjoon-hyung tells me it’s important that songs have meaning and impact.” He pauses in his strumming, looking a little conflicted. “And I get what he means. Art is all about saying something, but… I can’t help that there’s only one thing I ever want to talk about. Is that so wrong?”
You chuckle, understanding what he means. You nudge your head against his cheek, grinning from ear to ear. The fluttering in your chest has become routine to you at this point, but he somehow always knows how to increase it tenfold. “God, you’re such a sweet talker. Really, Koo. There’s no need to serenade with love songs—I’m already yours.”
He looks back at you, brimming with tender affection. “I know,” he responds. Then, he takes a pen from his bedside table, and begins writing.
During those years of dating him, you always thought that If he was a waterfall, then you were a teaspoon. You desperately tried to be enough for him, but you’re barely able to fathom the depth of his devotion. Everything about him was excessive, and you could seldom understand how he managed to contain himself. He was born to share himself, to tear bits of his soul so that the world may understand him, love him. His songs were a testament that he was trying to do that, and you always felt so lucky to be able to receive him, wholly and fully.
How cruel was it that Jungkook uses that same song to rip open the barely healed scab on your heart, leaving you bare and stinging and raw all over again.
You have no idea how long you've stood there in the cold. It must have been barely a few minutes when Jimin finds his way to you. He wordlessly shrugs his coat off and places it on your shoulders, but you make no move to acknowledge him. 
You hope your silence is enough for Jimin to infer that you are not in a conversational mood, but he’s nothing if not impatient. He forcibly pulls you to face him, his hands warm even through your clothing.
“Hey, you good? Did something happen?” He asks with barely concealed irritation, but it’s not directed at you. Still, you flinch at his scathing tone, shrinking in on yourself. In your daze, you vaguely notice his resemblance to an angry baby chick. 
“It’s nothing. Go back inside, I’ll be right there,” you mumble lamely, weakly pushing him back towards the restaurant. Jimin does not budge, instead leveling you with a hard stare. This time, you’re sure his irritation is for you.
“You idiot, you literally ran out like someone was out to get you. Of course it’s not nothing,” he grouses. 
You sigh tiredly, shaking your head at him. “We can talk later. It’s almost closing time and I just want to go home and sleep.”
Before Jimin can argue further, the door to the restaurant opens once more, but it isn’t a leaving customer. 
“What the fuck? What are you doing out here?” Jimin all but shouts at Jungkook. He holds up an accusatory finger at him and uses his other hand to nudge you behind him as if to shield you. 
Jungkook winces, instinctively stepping back. Despite being a few inches taller than Jimin, Jungkook’s timidness makes him look smaller. “I… I was just worried about her—”
“Don’t you have a song to finish in there? Talk about professional,” Jimin spits out. Jimin maneuvers you so that Jungkook can’t see you, but you manage to catch sight of how his gaze follows you unfailingly.
“I finished up my set. It’s closing time.” Jungkook responds coolly. He’s still a little quiet, but you can sense some of his natural composure rising to the surface. When he needs to be, Jungkook has been known to stand his ground—usually when it comes to matters involving you.
At this time of the night and after hours of mental torture, the last thing you need is to watch your two worst nightmares duke it out in front of your work establishment. You are beyond exhausted, and you hardly have the fortitude to withstand another minute of their voices ringing in your ears. 
Your eyes well up with tears of frustration, causing the two boys to freeze up in panic. You don’t give them the chance to fuss over you; instead, you haphazardly wipe your cheeks before roughly pushing them back towards the restaurant. 
“Get back to work, you idiots.” Your voice sounds warbled even to your own ears, but you push past your overwhelming emotions in favor of getting back inside to close up. Hell, you might even call in sick tomorrow, just so you can cry pathetically into your bowl of cereal in solitude.
“I’m not even on the clock today!” Jimin complains faintly, but you only push him harder. 
When you all reenter, you walk back to your desk and pointedly ignore the two of them until they awkwardly float away from your orbit. Despite the distance they give you, their gazes are still fixed plainly on you and they feel like knives digging into your back. 
Eventually, all the final customers of the day take their leave, and your remaining coworkers start dimming the lights and bidding their goodbyes. From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook bowing respectfully to the band, who were giving him friendly pats on the back for a job well done. Jimin walks toward you, his car keys dangling from his left pinky. 
“No thanks. I’ll take the bus home today,” you declare before he can offer a ride. Jimin opens his mouth like a goldfish, flapping his lips dumbly as he stares at you in shock. You have no idea why he’s so surprised, given how you’ve been making it obvious that you need some space.
He looks like he wants to argue again, but thinks better of it. A singular moment of restraint from Park Jimin, which is an act you once thought impossible. Maybe he does care about you more than you thought. 
He stiffly nods at you, shoving his hands and keys into his pockets. He still has a frown on his face when he tells you to text him when you get home. You flip him off with a shaky smirk in response, a feeble attempt to bring some levity back to your now tense relationship. It works a little, and Jimin brightens up significantly. How simple-minded of him.
With a flippant wave, you leave work and head towards your bus stop. At this hour of the night, the streets are mostly dim, save for some street lamps and bars that stay open longer than your restaurant. There are always some people milling about, enough that you never feel too on edge about how late it is. Still, your bus stop is often empty, leaving you to mull over your thoughts in peace.
You are in the midst of jamming your earbuds into your ear when a presence makes itself known beside you.
Is it possible to go through the five stages of grief in under a second? You suppose not, but it’s hard to tell what sort of emotions swim through you when you come face to face with Jeon Jungkook again.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mutter under your breath. You pause the song playing on your phone to glare at him with as much venom as you can muster. 
Jungkook holds up his hands in surrender, doe eyes wide like prey. “I-I’m heading home too! I’m not following you, I swear!”
You groan internally. Figures that you and Jungkook take the same bus home. But hold on— “Don’t you have a car? I remember you were parked near the restaurant the other night,” you note, squinting at him.
Jungkook looks sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah. That car was my hyung’s. He lets me borrow it sometimes, but he needed it tonight.”
“Sure…” You level him with a skeptical frown. You remember his hyung, but don’t recall him ever owning a car. You aren’t even sure that his Namjoon-hyung is allowed by the country to drive a car, much less own one. 
He could be lying, but you don’t want to give him an excuse to continue any conversation. So, you busy yourself with your phone and keep your head bowed away from him.
When the bus arrives, Jungkook makes it a point to sit a few rows behind you. Thankfully, he has a better understanding of social cues than a certain Park that you know. He leaves you alone, but your entire body still feels like a rope pulled taut. You have to convince yourself not to look behind you, your morbid curiosity scratching your insides raw.
You are in the home stretch now, and it’ll only be a few more minutes before you get to your stop and make your way to your safe haven. Hell resumes the next day and the next, but at the very least you’ll have your home to yourself. No one could take that away from you.
Again, this is where you learn that tempting fate is never a good idea.
When you exit the bus at your stop, you can hear his footsteps following you. It’s hard not to notice, especially when his large and distracting boots make such a distinct racket that makes him so Jungkook. 
You hasten your pace towards your apartment complex, your shoulders hunched and hands shoved into your coat pockets in an attempt to hinder the bile rising from your stomach. He had promised that he wasn’t following you, but that proclamation seems to be standing on feeble legs with how long he’s been on your tail now.
Your street is filled with rows of low-rise apartment buildings, so you hope that if anything happens, you can yell as loud as you can and alert some compassionate neighbor to come to your aid. (Not that you think he would ever physically harm you, but… You can’t say the same about your mental state.)
Your home is just two buildings away from where you are, but Jungkook still seems determined to follow you to the end. You all but skip the remaining feet to your apartment entrance, your breath coming out in puffs as you finally muster up the courage to face your supposed stalker and give him a piece of your mind. 
“If this is some convoluted way for you to find out where I live, then you aren’t being very subtle about it,” you say, your chin held up high despite the growing urge to vomit pathetically in front of your ex-boyfriend. You have your hand rested on the doorknob, just a moment’s notice away from bolting into your house if the need for a quick getaway arises.
To your surprise, Jungkook wasn’t following you as closely as you expected. He had stopped trailing you about two buildings down, his own hand poised on the door with a look of genuine shock.
You both stand there, staring at each other as mutual understanding dawns on the two of you. 
Everyday, the universe learns of more creative ways to be cruel.
“Oh…” Jungkook’s voice falters. He looks simultaneously frightened and amazed, as if he too finds this entire situation unbelievably harsh. He swallows thickly, looking at you and back to his door in quick succession. “Well… This is a strange coincidence,” he murmurs. 
You want to believe that this was his entire fault, that Jungkook had somehow managed to track you down to haunt you for the rest of your days. You want to believe that he’s a crazed stalker who is willing to find where you work and live so that every hour of your wretched life is filled with nothing but reminders of what-could-have-beens. You just want someone to blame instead of just the cosmos—you want someone tangible to hate so that your suffering can be given some sort of identity. You want to give your mourning and hurt a name so that you can learn how to heal.
You want to believe all of that, but it’s hard to do so when Jungkook looks so incredibly uncomfortable, as if he’d rather melt into the shadows and never be seen again. 
In all your memories, you have never seen Jungkook look so small.
You heave a big sigh, your fingers grasping the door knob so tightly that you half-expect it to be dented from the force. You linger for a moment, your mouth opening but nothing spills out. 
What is there to say? What do you say to an ex-boyfriend that you haven’t seen in two years, who is suddenly so deeply entwined in your life once more? Do you tell him goodnight? Tell him to stay away? Tell him to come home with you?
Jungkook looks equally as conflicted. His lips are pursed tight with words left unsaid. You aren’t sure whether you want to punch the confession out of his mouth or seal them up forever. It feels like eons before he finally breaks the silence with a mirthless laugh.
“I… I just wanted to say—back at the restaurant. When I sang that last song,” Jungkook begins, and his voice feels loud because of how empty the streets are. For a moment, you are reminded of a cathedral you once visited during a vacation, how sacred silence can be. The world holds its breath, waiting for him to speak.
“I meant it all. Every word. Every lyric. I never stopped…”
He trails off, shrugging his shoulders. He stares at you helplessly, but you don’t know what to say. You don’t want to listen any more, but your feet are planted to the ground. You’re frozen like a deer in headlights, forced to brace against him as he crashes into you. 
He continues, “And when we broke up back then… I never wanted that to happen. You broke it off before we could even try something—and I hated how I didn’t fight for you harder. I let you misunderstand me because I was afraid you wouldn’t want to stick around if I didn’t succeed. I convinced myself that I was holding you down, but I never gave you—us—a chance. I never stopped regretting it since.”
“Me? Break up with you?” You echo incredulously. That statement is enough to break you from your trance, the telltale signs of indignation rising up your chest. “How dare you suggest—Me? You were the one who broke up with me, asshole! You were the one who broke my heart and decided to up and leave to god knows where! Only to miraculously respawn right next to me, groveling at my feet with sad love songs as if that’s enough for me to forgive and forget? Fucking entitled bastard,” you seethe.
Somehow, Jungkook manages to shrink more, like a bunny with his tail tucked between his legs. “Yes, you’re right that I broke your heart but… When I told you I was moving away to try and become a singer, it was always with the intention of staying together. I know it would have been difficult, but I wanted you to be with me through thick and thin. But when you misunderstood and took it as a break up, I let you go because, well… I was scared that it would happen eventually. Who wants to date a broke busking fool anyway?”
He laughs, but it sounds watery. He sniffles, and you hope it's only because of the cold. “I tried looking for you, but you blocked me everywhere and no one from back home seemed to know where you went. So I just accepted that we’d never see each other again… Until a few days ago, that is.”
A misunderstanding? Is that what everything boils down to? Years of trying to build yourself back up again, relearning what it means to be happy—all the fallen domino pieces in your life trailing back to a single moment in time? All because Jungkook was scared that you didn't love him enough?
You’ve never felt angrier in your life. You fear what you might say if you continue to stand outside there, face to face with the singular person strong enough to whittle you down to the bone. Jeon Jungkook is all soft smiles and sweet songs, but how come he’s always able to knock you off your axis? Few people on this earth can stitch you up and break you down in equal measure, but somehow, Jungkook manages to do all that and more.
Then, comes the guilt. Had it been all your fault? That you hadn't returned his love in equal measure? Had you secretly given up on the hope of being on his level? Always looking down on yourself: unable to move past your insecurities. Were you terrified of being his side piece, his girlfriend, forever?
Who are you, even? And where do you stand?
(Beside him, is what you want to answer. You don't know if that's the right choice.)
You can’t bear to look at him, least of all answer him. Without another word, you shove your house key into the door before slamming it shut despite the late hour. If you awaken any neighbors, you’ll apologize later. For now, all you require is sleep and hope that this has been all a terrible nightmare.
xxx
Reality is a bitter pill to swallow.
Jeon Jungkook continues to sing at the restaurant, and after only two days of repeat stellar performances, your manager decides to promote him as the official vocalist for the band. It hurts to admit that you're not the least bit surprised; you might have a hard time looking at him, but you can never deny his talent. 
His song list has added a larger variety of genres ever since his first performance. That is to say, he isn’t always singing about lost loves and tragic couples every night. Perhaps it is due to some requests from customers or his other bandmates, but it doesn’t stop him from sprinkling one or two love songs into the mix. 
He doesn’t sing any original songs ever again. That, at least, is a small mercy. He doesn’t make any moves to speak with you either, despite the daily awkward trips back home after the end of your shifts. Whether that’s because he’s given up on you (again), or he’s waiting for you to make the first move, you don’t know. Frankly, you don’t think you have the energy (nor courage) to do anything about it.
It’s a few weeks after Jungkook’s first performance at the restaurant, and closing time is approaching. You appreciate Friday nights the most because it means you’ll have two consecutive days to relax and avoid your problems. It’s also the busiest night of the week, when white-collar workers decide to drink and eat for as long as the night allows them. Busier nights mean more distractions, and you’re willing to deal with twenty Karens over one Jungkook.
During nights like these, your manager occasionally asks you to fulfill some waitress duties when there aren’t enough hands on deck. Normally you’d hate it, but earning the extra tips is enough to keep your grumbling to a minimum To this day, your landlord has yet to do anything about your broken shower, and you’ve finally conceded to the fact that you’ll have to be the one to do something about it. 
As you inform the customers in your area that the last call for orders is approaching, you sneak a glance at the bar to see Jimin dutifully performing his job. That is to say, he’s flirting up a storm, getting women and men alike to blush from head to toe as he serves their drinks with a salacious smirk.
What a swindler, you think to yourself, snorting when he makes eye contact with you. He gives you a cheeky salute, mouthing something as he gestures to the back door.
Despite the semi-fight the two of you had all those weeks ago, Jimin was never one to argue about the same topic two days in a row. When you saw him the next day after your confrontation with Jungkook, Jimin was back to all smiles. You still catch him sending death glares towards Jungkook on most nights, but he doesn’t bring up the matter with you anymore. For that reason, you’ve gratefully settled back into your weird, banterful friendship with him. Even if there’s still a lingering tension between the two of you that you refuse to acknowledge.
You nod thankfully back at him, excited to go to his house and take a much needed shower. At this point, going to his house has become second nature to you, and it gives you an excuse to not see Jungkook at your regular bus stop every day. You have half a mind to never fix your shower for that reason, but of course there is still the problem of having to deal with Jimin every time you need to bathe. You hardly consider yourself an impatient person, but Jimin likes to toe the line far more often than necessary.
You’re down to your last two tables before you can close up shop when your manager suddenly barrels right into your path. You nearly drop your tray of dirty dishes to the floor, holding in a loud yelp as your suspiciously stern-faced manager halts you in place.
“Ms. Y/N, may I have a word with you for a moment? It’s regarding your paycheck for the month,” he barks, lips downturned. He appears disgruntled about something, and it sends a worried shiver down your spine. And here you thought Fridays are meant to be fun. He doesn’t wait for you to reply before he stalks back to his office, an unspoken command for you to follow. 
You unload your dishes in the kitchen before making your way to his office. The small, dark room is cramped with overflowing file folders and coupons from multiple take-out places. You accidentally step on a stack of papers, and upon further inspection, seem to be a pile of applications for new hires. You distinctly remember complaining to him months prior about being understaffed and him replying that no inquiries were coming in.
As you approach, your manager shuffles through your coworkers pay stubs, and you notice yours and Jungkook’s on top of the piles. 
Manager Jeong clears his throat. “Well, Y/N. It seems to be your lucky day. As you know, we split the tips based on your hours and what sort of duties you fulfill. With the new hire we have as our in-house singer, we’ve had to split it one way more to accommodate his arrival. However, he has recently requested to me that his portion be reallocated… to you, Ms. Y/N.”
Your jaw drops immediately. “I-I don’t understand, Manager Jeong,” you sputter. 
Manager Jeong snorts, bemused by your reaction. “Don’t understand? Well, I suppose you’ll have to ask Mr. Jeon if you want his reasoning. Regardless, since we normally deposit your salary straight to your bank account, would it be alright if I hand you his tips in cash for now? He only informed me about his request an hour ago, and the accountant has already clocked out for the week.”
All you can do is nod dumbly back at him. With a huff, your manager presses a white envelope into your hands before promptly ushering you out of his office. “Well, that's settled. Out you go! Have a good weekend, Ms. Y/N. Don’t forget to lock the register before you leave!” He calls out before slamming his door in your face.
It takes you a moment to reanimate back to life. You stare at the white envelope for a long while, unable to fathom the scribbled out name of Jeon Jungkook replaced with your own name. Then, you crumple it into your fist before stomping over to where Jungkook and the rest of the band are in the middle of packing it up for the night.
Jungkook looks up from his guitar case when he senses you fast approaching. For a fleeting second, a smile graces his handsome face before it’s smacked away by your crumpled envelope. 
“Keep your fucking cash, Jungkook. What the hell is your problem?” You fume, cheeks heating from agitation. Jungkook splutters for a moment, prying the envelope away from his face and looking at it in bewilderment. When he sees it clearly, recognition dawns on his face, followed by guilt.
“It’s just… my way of saying sorry, I guess.” He answers you meekly, neck flushing red in embarrassment. Behind him, the rest of the band grow silent at the scene before them, and you debate on telling them to mind their own business when they quicken their pace to leave.
“Well, keep your apology to yourself. There’s nothing to apologize for,” you correct him with a frown. To offer an apology is to offer accountability. You aren’t sure if you’re ready to hear him say that. 
“No, it’s a sorry for… using you, I suppose.”
“Using me?” You repeat, dumbfounded. “For what?”
Jungkook smiles wryly back at you. “For inspiration?” he clarifies. For being the reason I can sing? He leaves that part unsaid, but you can almost imagine him saying it. 
You feel heat rising to your cheeks again, but this time you aren’t quite sure if it’s from embarrassment, anger… or something else.
Unable to conjure up a response to his simple confession, you stomp away from him with a pounding heart and shaking hands. You continue the rest of your closing shift routine instinctually, your body moving on autopilot as Jungkook’s words continue to ring inside your head. When all is said and done, Jimin makes his way to your station with a questioning stare, but you wave him off in favor of stomping ahead of him to the parking lot.
In his car, Jimin rattles off about his latest exploits and purchases, his grating voice a comfort for once. You hum noncommittally during his stories when appropriate, but you suppose your usual indifference feels different, even to Jimin's untrained ears. 
At his house, you drift to his bathroom immediately. You already have a shirt button undone by the time you get a handle on the door when Jimin’s hand stops you in place. You can feel his warmth emanating against your back as he slowly pulls the bathroom door close. With a tired sigh, you reluctantly turn to face him and find him standing closer than you expected.
He has an arm resting above your head, effectively caging you. You feel your shoulders sag. Damn, here comes another confrontation. Why can’t everyone just leave you alone?!
“Talk to me,” he says. No, he demands.
You push him away weakly, but he hardly budges. “Nothing to talk about,” you lie. Had you no filter, you’d be word vomiting all over the place ages ago.
Jimin groans, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Enough with the emotional constipation. I’m here to listen, alright? No teasing or anything, I’m all ears and maybe a shoulder to cry on. Just don’t stain my Chanel top too bad,” he jokes.
You puff out a short breath—a sorry excuse for a laugh. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want to talk about it, and that’s that.”
“It’ll make you feel a lot better, though,” he offers.
You scoff. “What makes you think that? What if I just want to ignore all my problems forever and never grow from it? Is that so bad?”
Jimin pushes himself away from you, raising his hands in mock defeat. “You’re so fucking annoying. Can you stop running away from your problems and talk to me? Hell, talk to Jungkook for all I care! Just stop being a doormat and speak your mind for once in your damn life!”
“What are you, my therapist?” You brush past him, shower all but forgotten. You begin toeing your shoes back on, ready to head home tired and smelly. At the very least, you won’t have to deal with this stupid annoying asshole any longer. 
Jimin strides back towards you, but for once he doesn’t do anything to forcibly stop you. Jimin has always been gruff with you, not afraid to push and pull you in any which direction. It’s part of the reason why you can’t take him seriously, even though you’ve recently realized why he was always being such a prick towards you—
“Yeah, I’m not your therapist. But for better or for worse, I’m your friend and I—I fucking care about you, alright? And it sucks seeing that good-for-nothing stick his nose in your business and act like he can do anything without any repercussions.”
Is Jimin being for real right now? “With how often you look at yourself in the mirror, you’d think you’d be better at introspection,” is all you say to that. You shove your feet into your shoes, not caring that you’ve probably put them on wrong. Maybe it’s because it’s Friday and the fatigue from the week has finally settled deep in your bones, but you can’t help but leave one last scathing remark to drive the final nail in the coffin.
“You know, if you were a little nicer to me, maybe I would talk to you. Hell, maybe I’d like you back. But no, just keep being your domineering, asshole self and I’ll keep being the same fucking doormat bitch you know and love,” you spit, turning towards the door and away from his face. You’re not even curious to see how he reacts. “I don’t need protection, alright? When I tell you to stay out of my business, you stay out of it. So don’t try and pretend to be my knight in shining armor.”
There’s an ocean of silence, enough to hear a pin drop. The urge to apologize surges to the surface, but you stamp it down. He’s petty all the time, so now it’s your turn.
Okay, maybe that’s a little too mean on your part, but you’re exhausted. Perhaps it is true when they say you should never act on your anger when it’s past midnight. But can anyone blame you? You’re only a girl, and girls need to snap too. 
When he responds, his voice sounds weak. Park Jimin, weak? It's almost unthinkable. "Why don't you trust me?"
Isn't it obvious? you want to say. But some mercy remains within you. You'll pick up the pieces another time. Instead, you rasp out, “Good night, Park. I’ll see you on Monday.”
The walk of shame back to your house is long and arduous. Your phone dings thrice, likely signaling texts from Jimin, but you turn it off without checking for sure. For once, the weight on your shoulders is slightly lighter. You huff out a dry laugh, realizing belatedly that maybe Jimin is right—maybe speaking your mind has its benefits.
There’s a small park in your neighborhood that you always pass by. You don’t remember the last time you spared it a second glance, but this time you notice a lone figure swinging back and forth, arching dangerously higher than what you would consider safe. From a distance, all you can make out are the person’s comically bright boots, and you have a sinking suspicion you know who it is without seeing their face.
Cosmos, or whoever it is that controls my life, why must you braid our strings of fate so tightly? You ask, but as always, it refuses to reply.
Against your better judgment, your feet bring you closer towards him. He has his back towards you, his feet pumping him higher and higher and you half expect him to swing in a perfect arc like a gymnast on parallel bars. You have to keep your distance a bit, lest you get the wind knocked out of you by his signature stompers. 
You clear your throat, and the boy stops mid-swing and nearly catapults himself into the spongey, playground floor. Hunched over and wheezing, Jungkook directs his shocked eyes at you with a comical stare. 
You raise a hand in greeting. A peace offering, maybe. “Hello—”
“I swear I’m not stalking you!” Jungkook interrupts as he scrambles to his feet. He bows deeply in remorse, the action so endearingly him. “S-sorry, I’ll make my way home now…”
“I don’t own the park, Jungkook. I was just saying hello…” You snort, wringing your hands uncomfortably. You grind your shoes into the ground, the sound of crunching leaves breaking the still air. “A-and… to say sorry, for earlier.”
“Sorry?” Jungkook repeats, confused. When he realizes what you mean, he waves his hands frantically. “No, no! Don’t be sorry! It was my fault for being so inconsiderate. I understand how you might misconstrue my actions, and I made things more awkward. I’ll consider your feelings more in the future…”
In the future… You cough, unwilling to meet his bright and honest gaze. If you stare too long, you fear you might go blind. 
“I come here to the park often, when I feel too cramped inside my apartment,” Jungkook explains, frantic energy radiating off him in waves. He’s gesticulating too much, a clear sign that he’s trying to hide his nerves. You remember how he would do the same thing in high school, whenever he had to present his projects in front of the class. 
You hold a hand up, a weak attempt to get him to calm down. “I’m not here to interrogate you. I just wanted to…” What is it that you wanted to do?
The two of you just stand awkwardly like that, similar to a few weeks ago when you discovered you were neighbors. You’re grasping at straws in your head, both conflicted for wanting to tell him something and running away. Even if you were to talk to him, what would you say? There’s a reason you told Jimin you didn’t want to talk—frankly, it’s mostly because you have no idea what to say or feel. 
But you do know, the universe responds. 
I ask you questions all the time, and this is how you respond? 
Either that, or you’re going insane, the universe remarks.
Jungkook pulls out his phone, his fingers fumbling as he unlocks it. He takes a furtive step towards you, but thinks better of it. There’s a few feet of distance between you, but it feels like worlds apart. Close and yet so far. You recall how you’d easily pull him towards you in the past, how being together felt as natural as breathing. 
“I know you absolutely hated it the last time I played my original song at the restaurant, so I refrained from performing any ever since that night. But that didn’t stop me from writing them. I was fine with keeping them locked in a vault forever, but…” He hesitates, searching you for any signs of discomfort. When he sees the carefully blank look on your face, he continues with trepidation. 
“Can I try a song for you? You don’t have to say yes, and you’re free to tell me to fuck off and I’ll never even look at you ever again. Just…” He flails one last time, a choked sob making its escape from his throat. 
Are you hopeless for wanting to say yes? Or were you reverting back to your old self who relied on him and believed in him so heavily? If you wanted him out of your life for good, you would have quit your job at the first sight of him. Maybe you were masochistic. Or maybe were you hopeful for a new start, a chance to rekindle a relationship that you’ve secretly always wanted to repair.
You have so much life ahead of you. Many more mistakes will be made and maybe they’ll haunt you when you’re older. But would it really be such a terrible gamble to take one more chance? 
You nod, and seal your fate.
He presses play, and the soft strumming of a guitar fills the empty playground air. 
Not for the first time, you wonder how it can be so easy for Jungkook to be so… honest. He spills his heart in every song that he writes, and you know he’s never been a great liar. He can’t help it, being genuine is in his DNA. This crashing waterfall, this boy with overflowing emotions—he sings what he thinks but feels terrified because of it. You might not understand his honesty, but you know that fear. You know it all too well.
He beholds himself to you—raw and unfiltered. A little battered and bruised, but still Jungkook. Behind everything, still the boy you’ve been yearning for.
Maybe this song is what will give you enough confidence to admit everything to him, too. As you stand there, listening to his mellow voice sing confessions to no one but you and the stars, you think you grow a little more courageous that day.
Maybe you won’t be able to tell him tonight. Maybe not tomorrow, nor next week either. But as you gaze back at his hopeful eyes, you know deep in your heart that you’ll find the words you’ve been looking for.
“I’ll keep waiting for you, if you let me.” Jungkook’s voice floats gently to you, and settles in your open palms. This time, you don’t let go
xxx
Months later, Jungkook stops working at the restaurant when an offer from a major record company arrives in his mail. Apparently, a big shot from the local radio station had pitched him to an employee at that company and they were all pleasantly surprised to find a hidden gem at a random bar and restaurant.  
In your apartment, you stare outside your window and to where his home is—well, where it was. You wonder if he finished packing his things, ready to make the big move tomorrow. You stand up with a stretch, sparing a glance at your still broken shower. It would be nice to have one more shower at his place… And after that? Maybe you should start looking for a nicer apartment; somewhere far away might be nice.
Your phone rings, and you see his contact photo light up your screen. With a smile, you answer.
“Come over, if you want. I won’t make you,” Jungkook assures you. 
You laugh lightly, already halfway out the door. 
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nouvellevqgue · 22 days
Text
SWEET MEMORIES ; oscar piastri x webber!reader
summary: it's been a year since they got married and ever since then, they can't help but to go back in times and recall the sweet memories of their wedding day here and there.
note: aight, this is the last on my queue, for the rest of my works check @duhyork for more. and sorry for the wrongs and awkwardness here, i've never written a wedding scene before :)
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ONE YEAR AGO...
ynwebber and oscarpiastri
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liked by landonorris and 986,772 others
ynwebber 4.4.24 🤍
view all 7,623 comments
landonorris wowowow congratulations to the both of you future parents! can't wait to see how your kids going to look like
mclaren Congratulations to you Lovebirds! 🥹❤️
username WHAT WHY AM I KNOWING THIS JUST NOW
username I can clearly see that is Oscar
username boy can't even remove the awkward stance off for a moment 😭😭
alpinef1team Congratulations for the wedding, Oscar. We sincerely hope that you both would have a good love life together!
username This is the first time that alpine admin say something longer than their usual sarcastic reply
alex_albon Me, Lily, and the rest of Williams team wish the both of you a very happy wedding day from LA. So sorry that we cannot attend the both of your wedding, but we certainly wish the best for you both. 🫶🤍🤍
username I js woke up and then I saw this... It honestly feels like a fever dream
redbullracing We wish you the happiest wedding to the couple!
scuderiaferrari We too at Scuderia Ferrari, represents all the drivers and crew here wish the both of the happy couple a best wedding.
username aren't they a bit too young to get married?
lewishamilton Happy wedding day to this couple! I wish you a great future and a wealthy life.
aussiegrit It is still hard to believe that you were married with my daughter now. But either way, I really wish you both to have a great life and for the rest is indescribable...
yourusername Awwwwww... Thanks dad!🥹🥹🥹
username Bro got lucky and got two webbers at once
username he already marries her dad first
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“...i wish you long life, happiness, prosperity, and may the vows you made to each other today sustain you forever.” the priest said, breaking the silence for a moment before continuing his speech, “you may kiss the bride.” he ends. and by the time they kissed, the crowd's cheer is erupting from everywhere. clearly happy to see them finally holding the new title of husband and wife.
an hour has passed right from the reception, and now they're gathering at the garden, celebrating their special day. and definitely, it's led by lando, who has been his friends for all this time and has witnessed ‘the ins and outs of their romance.’
the loud sound of a fork meeting a champagne glass as he gets up caught the attention of everyone there, including the married couple. waiting for whatever going to happen next.
“okay um, first of all i want to say my congratulations to this couple for the a hundredth times today,” he said, followed by some of the audience giggle at his speech. “but i just wanted to say that, "even though I haven't known you as long as hogan has known you, but i at least know the half part of your love story along with what i'm now saying is that your wife is right in mclaren's garage." he said while smiling, and he could also see oscar whose cheeks were starting to turn red and his smile was widening every time he spoke.
"i actually never thought that they would get married in the end, but is that more surprising than him winning the heart of mark webber's daughter? the only daughter of his own manager after having his first win.” he said with a surprised tone, making mark who is sitting right in front of him covering his face as the audience's laughter is started to come from here and there as soon as lando said that.
“but really, i've witnessed their love story since... probably since he's still a newcomer, a new driver for mclaren, i've seen it.” a burst of awws coming after that, “they are completing each other from each other's flaws, and for the rest of it were just history. and also... does their cuteness count?” he looked at mark and at the time he saw him nod, he finally said: “yes. cuteness from them does count.” he ends. “everybody, cheers to the happy couple. i pray that the both of you will always be happy.” he raised his glass before finally sipping its contents, earning a bunch of applause from the crowd.
the couple can't help but to kiss once again after his speech, mark and nicole can't help but to smiled at each other, and lando looking so proud of himself afterwards.
the surprise of course didn't just end there, but the night are still young, and there's still a lot to uncover right there.
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ONE YEAR LATER...
ynwebber
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liked by oscarpiastri and 452,766 others
ynwebber I still recall it very clearly that when the first I saw your dad, he immediately got into tears, and oh boy so do I 🥲 I loved every second of our very special day, and I can't get enough of your love for ever after.
view all 846 comments
oscarpiastri ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
lilymhe AAAAAAHHH YOU TWO ARE THE CUTEEESSSTT!! 🤗🤗
carmenmmundt I miss how emotional it is there, you both really suited each other.
username I CRIED TOO THAT TIME
username omg i wanna jump out of a cliff
username I don't believe it's been a year since
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oscarpiastri
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liked by ynwebber and 739,902 others
oscarpiastri Inarguably the best and my favourite day of my life. You made it completely for me, Y/n. You are the best person I can asked for to be with me for the rest of my life.
comments on this post has been disabled
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note 2: happy birthday oscar piastri, future wdc.
taglist: @queenofmanydreams @muglermami @4limq @avengers-assemble123456 @cabbyhabs @meowtastick @4mula-1 @miarabanana @amel1ee @dinosushilun1 @auggieblogs @namgification @charli123456789 @cherry-piee
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mrsbarnesblog · 6 months
Text
new purchase
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Mob! Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You just got a new expensive lingerie set and decided to tease your mafia boss boyfriend with some sexy pictures.
Word count: 2.3K
Warnings: modern setting, mafia boss bucky, established relationship, nude photos, dom bucky, smut, vaginal sex, mirror sex, lingerie kink, hair-pulling, doggy style, butt slapping, dirty talk, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie.
Author's note: I'm back🥹 Tumblr blocked my account again, but thank God support replied and everything is fine now. put community labels if you don't want to end up like me lol. I'm returning to re-upload everything. thank you for the support💞💞
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As soon as the message from you popped up on Bucky’s screen, he was no longer involved in the conversation with his people, who were reporting on the situation that got a few men killed.
No, now his eyes were glued to the screen of his phone. To the photo that you sent him, to be exact. You were standing in front of the mirror in the new blue lingerie set that Bucky definitely hadn't seen before. 
“miss you, baby.” 
Bucky took a deep breath, studying every little thing in the photo—from your half-hidden smile to the soft skin of your legs and stomach—and noticing the way your boobs were perfectly sitting in that almost see-through bra. Fuck, to be right now on top of you instead of sitting here was a dream. You knew what effect you had on him and that Bucky loved your expensive lingerie, but he couldn't just leave now, right? Controlling Brooklyn was not easy, especially when some brave idiots tried to threaten him.
“please, Jamie…”
Another text message with an attached picture appeared in front of him, and his pants immediately became much tighter. Now it was from another angle. You were on the bed on your hands and knees, your spine perfectly arched to show your round ass in just a little piece of fabric that shouldn’t even be considered underwear. 
Flashbacks from all the times Bucky was holding your hips while thrusting into you from behind filled his head and he almost wanted to moan out loud. No, it was impossible to listen to whatever Peter was saying, especially when it was the first time you sent such photos.
“You better stay in this position, baby. I'm coming.” He typed quickly before suddenly getting up from his fancy leather chair, making the whole room go quiet. 
“D-did I say something wrong, boss?” Peter’s face became white. Bucky probably looked really angry right now, but only because he couldn't touch you and bury himself in your heat at that exact moment. 
“I didn't listen, Parker. I need to go; finish here without me. Steve, you're responsible.” Bucky took his jacket and stormed out of the room without another word. 
***
You were walking around the bedroom in nervousness, as if it were your first time waiting for Bucky from work. But now something was different, though. You knew that he was busy, and you hated disturbing him, but after looking in the mirror at yourself for too long, you got so confident and bold that you decided to text him with photos, which you had never done before. 
Your best friend Nat took you out shopping, but even though Bucky always gave you his card and told you to buy whatever you wanted, you never actually did it. Until you saw that unbelievably beautiful blue set. Bucky went crazy every time you had new pieces, but they weren’t as expensive as this one because you always bought them with your own money. Your friend basically shoved you into the changing room and convinced you that it cost every single penny, so you gave up and used Bucky’s black card. 
The loud noise of the slammed door came from the first floor, and you knew that your boyfriend had come home. Fuck, it has been only 15 minutes since he messaged you, and he was already there. 
You sat at the edge of the king-size bed, facing the door. And in just a few seconds, heavily breathing and slightly annoyed, Bucky stood in the door frame. If you hadn’t been dating him for almost a year now, you would’ve thought that he was angry, but the way he licked his lips and the look in his eyes while he was scanning your almost naked body told you otherwise. 
“You’re such a fucking tease, babydoll. I had an important meeting, and you just had to send me those photos, huh?” Bucky grinned at you, taking off his expensive jacket and rolling up the sleeves of the white shirt. He took small steps toward you, but you were too focused on his tattooed and veiny forearms to notice it. 
You blinked only when a soft but firm hand pressed under your chin, making you look Bucky in the eyes. The realization of how ridiculously wet you were hit you hard, and Bucky probably saw the way your cheeks blushed because his lips curled in a one-sided smirk. 
“You’re looking like the sexiest thing on the planet, but you’re blushing. God, you’re amazing, baby.” His eyes slid down your body, covered in a thin lace, and you swore that his eyes darkened within a second.
“I just thought that I became wet by just looking at your hands.” Bucky growled at your words. He took both of your hands into his, silently asking you to stand up from the bed. "Sorry for bothering you at work, I just... I don’t know.” 
“I don’t care about work as long as I can see my amazing girlfriend looking so incredible. Is this new? I know every single piece of clothing that you own; I’ve never seen this before.”
“Nat convinced me to buy this... from your card. I hope you don’t mind." Bucky chuckled at your words. 
“I told you a million times to buy whatever you wanted. My money is your money, ‘key? Now spin for me.” He lifted your hand above your head, helping you to spin around and show him every little detail of your new purchase.
The bra, which perfectly lifted your boobs, so they seemed nice and round. Matching lacy blue thongs and a garter belt that was attached to the tights sat on your waist, showing every curve of your hips. There was nothing left for imagination. You looked so soft, delicious, and sexy, but those cute little flowers all over the fabric made Bucky want to destroy you.
“So pretty, goddammit. I need you right now.” He firmly grabbed one side of your face, connecting your lips in a hot and messy kiss, while the other hand trailed its way from your neck down to your soaking wet panties. “Still can’t believe that you’re mine. The most beautiful woman on the whole fuckin’ planet.” Bucky growled into your lips, refusing to let you go. “Is that all for me? Are you so wet because of your naighty little photos or from my hands? Tell me.” Two fingers run up and down your covered folds, making you moan into Bucky’s mouth from the stimulation. 
“Both… Jamie, please. I need you.” You tried to grind your hips on his hand, but Bucky gripped your thigh and lowered his mouth onto your hot neck. 
“‘M not gonna let you get off on my hand, not today. You teased me with those sexy pictures, so I think it would be fair if I just fucked you senseless. That’s what you asked me to do anyway, right?” You just eagerly nodded, hoping that Bucky would do anything. The heat in the lower half of your stomach was almost painful, and you felt awfully empty inside, squeezing around nothing with every kiss Bucky had left on your sensitive skin. “Should I bend you over the bed? Or maybe on the floor in front of the mirror so I could see how good you feel when I fuck you?” He asked mostly himself. 
Bucky pulled away from you, admiring fresh red marks on your collarbones and neck and already knowing that you'd blame him in the morning before work. His lips were swollen and his hair was a mess, but you still bit your lip at how sexy and pretty he was. Lately, you didn’t spend much time together because of his job, and now you wanted to spend every second admiring and touching him. 
“I don’t care, Buck. I just want you, I miss you.” Your hands flew to the collar of his shirt, opening every button until his tanned chest was on full display. 
“Get on your knees and hands, doll.” Bucky mumbled, and you knew that he had lost all of his patience. 
You lowered yourself on an expensive white rug and teasinly moved your ass from side to side, looking at Bucky through the mirror. His eyes stuck on your body, and he licked his lips once again. You saw the way his pants were barely holding the hardness behind them, and your mouth instantly started watering from that thought.
“Are you going to fuck me or keep starring at my ass?” 
He smirked at your words and fell onto his knees behind you, slightly pushing his covered hips into yours and making you both moan. 
“Oh, I am going to fuck you? Don’t worry about that, doll.” The sudden slap on your ass cheek made you loudly gasp; your mouth stayed slightly open as Bucky was massaging your burning cheek with one hand and unbuckling his pants with the other. 
You felt the silky-soft skin of his cock between your legs when Bucky ran his length on your wet panties. “It’s too pretty, I don’t wanna take it off of you. ‘M just gonna push them to the side.” He took your underwear out of his way, lining the leaking tip with your wet entrance. 
You couldn’t stay steel, so Bucky had to grab your hair, raise your head, and perfectly arch your back. You whined at the slight pain from his grip, but it soon turned into a loud mixture of a moan and Bucky’s name when he pushed inside of you. 
It never failed to amaze both of you how perfect you were for each other. The sex was incredible every single time. Your body instantly adgasted for his size; your wet and soft folds gripped his cock firmly, as if your body didn’t want him ever to leave. Bucky honestly didn’t even remember the sex before you; at that time he thought it was nice, but since the first night with you, everything has become blurred, and he couldn't look at any other woman in a sexual way anymore. 
“Fuck-fuck-fuck, James!” You cried, squeezing him harder and gripping the soft material under your hands. 
“Holy shit, doll. Your pretty pussy ‘s taking me so well; she’s so greedy for my cock.” Bucky slapped your ass again at the same time as he bottomed out in you. You tried to stay focused on the reflection in the mirror, but that teasing little push of Bucky’s hips right into your g-spot made your eyes roll back. "What? You can’t handle it, baby? But that's what you asked for. You thought that you could just send me these things and not get fucked like a naughty little girl?” He chuckled, immediately increasing the speed of his thrusts. 
“I just wanted you, J-Jamie, fuck!” You cried at another slap on your ass. Red hand prints were already visible, and you knew that it would be hard to sit the next day. “I need to cum, please…”
“Already drunk with my cock?” Bucky chuckled, slightly squeezing your hair in his hand, until you opened your hooded eyes and looked at him in the mirror. “Look at you, always so perfect for me.” His blue eyes studied your reflection. Your still covered in bra tits bounced every time he pushed his cock inside of you, and Bucky felt like he became even harder because of the fact that he couldn’t see you fully naked. 
It felt like he wanted to split you in half with the power of his movements. Your skin slapped into each other, and the wet sounds of your pussy were almost too loud and inappropriate for you, but Bucky didn’t care. He moved fast and hard, mumbling praise words under his breath, which you barely understood, being too close to cum. 
“Bucky, ‘m gonna cum… Please, let me cum, ‘m so close.” You loudly moaned when your body started trembling and your hands were almost too weak to hold you up. 
“Do it, doll. I’m right behind you. Cover my cock in your cum.” Your mouth fell open, and your eyes instantly closed when you finally came, clenching around him. Bucky looked closely as your face expression changed—it was his favorite thing. 
He pushed into your tight cunt a few more times before freezing as his own orgasm came. You moaned at the feeling of his hot seed feeling you from the inside. 
“Just like that, doll. You did so well.” Bucky soothed the skin of your thigh and reddish cheek, finally loosening the grip on your hair. Your hands couldn’t hold you up anymore, and you collapsed on the soft rug with a muffled puff. 
Bucky slightly chuckled, slipping out of you, and flipped over your exhausted body so you could face him. You both were flushed and slightly sweaty. Bucky brushed your hair from your face and lowered himself to catch your lips in a slow kiss. You wrapped your arms around his strong shoulders until he fell on top of you. 
“I’ll call Nat so she can take you shopping tomorrow. Use my black card and get yourself everything that you like, because now I want to see you in every possible shade and variation of lingerie, doll.” Bucky mumbled near your ear while his hands traced the soft skin of your ribs and stomach. 
“I don’t want to spend your money, James.” You laughed. 
“Then I’ll give my card to Nat, so she can spend it on you. Because I won’t leave you alone anymore, doll. You drive me crazy looking like this.” He started kissing your neck, going lower to your chest. You just sighted, knowing damn well that there’s no point in arguing and that your amazing boyfriend would find a way to make you buy more lingerie. “Are you ready for round two? Because I really wanna put those pretty tits in my mouth.” 
Whatever you wanted to say died on your tongue with the first touch of Bucky’s wet tongue, and your brain went completely blank. 
2K notes · View notes
butterfluffy · 10 months
Text
strawhats + d. mihawk with a healer!s/o
⠀⠀ੈ♡˳· what would it be like being a healer, and an s/o to these people?
⠀⠀➧ unlabeled | strawhats, d. mihawk (separate)  x gn!reader | multi-character headcanons
⠀⠀➧ warnings — idk, none, ig? mistakes may be present tho.. so do ignore them, thanks.
⠀⠀➧ requests are closed, sorryyyyy..!
⠀⠀꒰ 🍨 ꒱ notes: finally writing to clear out my inbox aAaaaAahhHhhHHHHh
req by @n0body-1mportant
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MONKEY D. LUFFY
This trouble maker captain right here is always injured lol
So that said, you always go on healing your big, trouble maker baby
Wild card : Though he can take punches, kicks, and even stabs without screaming in pain—Luffy starts whining like a poor puppy everytime he comes to ask you to patch him up.
“Y/n...! Look, look, I'm heavily injured! I'm reaallyy hurt! Won't you heal me!? And, and! Won't you give me a kiss, too, for doing a great job in beating that bastard's ass!?”
RORONOA ZORO
Same as his captain, the first mate is always injured—due to fights, his harsh training, and other causes
..Despite always being injured, Zoro hates getting himself patched up. But if you're the one doing the healing so he could get better, it's all good for him!
Wild card : Zoro doesn't care if he's greatly bleeding out during a fight—but outside a fight, if he got the smallest cut, Zoro immediately dashes to you to get himself healed up..!
“Hey, so, I was peeling myself apples a while ago using that ero-cook's damned knife—now I got this cut. Heal it now, and eat these with me, yeah?”
NAMI
Nami very much hates getting herself injured, especially getting scars
So Nami is quick to rush to you to get her injury fixed
Wild card : this happens quite rarely, since as said above, she hates getting scars—but, nami sometimes get herself injured on 'places' to see you flushed when she asks you to heal it~
“Babyyy..! Look, look! Look at my perfectly beautiful legs here! They've got a scar! Their beauty has been tarnished, so, please.. Take care of them, yeah~?”
USOPP
Usopp avoids getting himself injured at all cost.
And when he does get injured, he screeches as he dash towards you with tears on his eyes, asking you to heal his injury ASAP.
Wild card : I have this headcanon for Usopp where he's a real clutz, so he always has an injury here and there, and wounds that he doesn't know where it came from.
“Y-Y/n..! W..When I woke up, I saw this new wound on my arm..! I..I don't know where it came from—it's probably from the spirits that I've angered, waaahh!!”
(it was caused by Luffy. He was dreaming that Usopp was a piece of meat, and bit him during their sleep. 💀)
VINSMOKE SANJI
As the left hand man of the ship's captain, Sanji is always out on a fight to support his captain, so injuries are unavoidable.
He's developed durability to the beating up he receives and shows it off his coolness to you, BUT AFTER THE FIGHT, he whines.
Wild card : This perv right here always has a nosebleed everytime you go patch up his beaten up ass, causing you more trouble.
“My loveee..! I'm injured, I'm badly hurt..! Everything's so painful, so please, heal me with your magic kiss—*you kiss him* *he nosebleeds*”
NICO ROBIN
Robin isn't a big fan of getting injuries during combat, or whenever.
Though despite being injured, she handles it like a Queen! (You don't.)
Wild card : As said above she handles her injuries like the Queen she is, BUT, you don't—you're more panicked when she's injured as she stays calm while telling you some morbid jokes.
“Darling.. Please calm down. I'm not going to die, you know? All I got is this small scratch the size of a severed finger, so, don't worry about me too much, okay?”
FRANKY
SUPEEEERRRRR Franky right here who's a barely gets himself injured.
↑ Why? Because, he's a cyborg, a cool one who will barely get a scratch..!
Wild card : ...When Franky does get injured for some reason being during a fight or where else, he starts crying like a small child to you as he asks you to heal him...!
“Waaahh! This damned injury hurts so bad..! It's SUPEEEERRRR painful, I'm gonna cry! Y/n, Y/n, quick, quickly, heal me and ease my pain..!!”
DRACULE MIHAWK
The greatest swordsman? Injured?? Pfft, not a chance.
Though when he's going against strong fellas, he gets some scratches here and there, which he deals with by himself—not wanting to bother you.
Wild card : Mihawk doesn't show it, but, he loves, and finds it cute when you insist on helping him with his injury that he already had managed, or can obviously handle fixing by himself.
“My dear... I already fixed my injury, so don't worry about it. But.. If you really insist on using your ability to speed up the healing process.. Alright. I'll let you.”
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© butterfluffy 2023
⠀⠀ʚїɞ · likes, comments, reblogs, and/or feedbacks are highly appreciated!
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houpss · 1 month
Text
SKZ have a crush on you
you can come up with the ending yourself...whether the reader will be with the member or not is up to you!
light angst, a little fluff, uncertain relationship
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Bang Chan
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oh...this man talks about his feelings openly and without fear.
He literally phrases: "I'll steal and fuck your girlfriend while you're not looking."
He has a huge amount of female and male attention, but...
But it doesn't work out that way with you...
You were out of his reach.
You were too beautiful, too sweet, too good...he wasn't like that.
Chris is the one who will call you his muse and write romantic songs for you, some of which have been published.
His love is manifested in acts of care, he is always there, he is more tactile with you than with others.
He will give you whatever you want, just ask.
Chan has 8 members so he is like a dad...he protects and cares for them
And he also wants to take care of you.
He wants to love you openly.
But you didn’t notice his feelings.
Although...you loved Chris. Literally loved to the moon and back.
For some reason, it seemed to you that Chris only saw you as a friend or family member, just like his Members.
Yeah...close friends....
He will say exactly the same phrase to you:
"You came..."–"You called"
It seems you are both fools.
Maybe he's too soft with you? Maybe he needs to leave?
He won't be able to give up on you.
I will kill myself, I will destroy my soul, but I will be with you.
But i'll wait for you
I love you to the moon and back
기다려 여기 me and max
서운해해도 don't be mad
너한텐 할 수 없는 game (Bloo-But i'll wait for you)
Lee Know
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How could Minho let this happen?
Lee Minho was head over heels in love with you.
No one has seen his loving eyes, no one has ever felt his gentle touch.
How did he allow himself to fall in love with you?
This is a completely crazy idea, he didn’t love to love.
But you turn his world upside down, he is literally lost in you.
You clearly feel like Minho hates you.
Minho is like cold winter, he is like snowy weather, he looks like frosty weather.
And you were in summer, you're complete opposites.
But even after the coldest winter, love comes.
He calls you the most beautiful adjectives, it’s like he’s trying to silently scream about his feelings.
He speaks directly and harshly, he loves the truth straight forward.
"And you will be obsessed with me, I will be everywhere: I will be in your favorite songs, I will be between the lines of books, I will be in every passerby... I am your addiction"
Lee Minho couldn't fall in love, but he wanted to love.
All the pretty stars shine for you, my love
Am I the girl that you dream of? (Lana Del Rey–Pretty when you cry)
Seo Changbin
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He loved and hated you at the same time.
Oh.. Seo Changbin can hate?
Yes, he did it with you. He loved you so much that he hated you for it.
You were everywhere, you were ingrained in his existence and mind.
He was very sweet and friendly and loved people.
It didn’t work out that way with you, it was as if he deliberately didn’t want to have much contact with you.
He loved you silently, probably without asking for anything in return.
Before he even notices, he begins to pay attention to you... be it small acts of attention or dialogues with you.
"You can take Changbin out of first love, but not first love out of Changbin."
Again, it was like you were different, you weren’t like anyone else. He noticed you immediately when he met you.
He seems upset that you will never be his.
Oh...the boy is gloomy. The boy looks like a thunderstorm.
Conquer your lonely heart, get used to the emptiness.
When you ran your fingers over your lips
I bought it from glossy magazines
Everything you asked for and even what you didn’t ask for
How can you be so terribly beautiful? (Rocky-WITCH)
Hwang Hyunjin
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Oh yes, you and Hyunjin have been friends since childhood.
It even got to the point that you are idols in the same agency. No wonder Hyunjin adores you, he's obsessed.
Fans loved your interactions, they were sure there was something between you and Hyunjin.
Hyunjin wants to get into your soul, he wants to take your heart into his cold hands.
You were the forbidden fruit, and forbidden fruit is always sweet.
It’s as if you’re chasing him, you’re everywhere, he feels you everywhere.
But you're just his friend, his sweet best friend.
It was normal for you to peck Hyunjin on the lips, naturally in private or during greetings (while no one was looking). Hyunjin feels addicted.
You are worse than drugs, you cause an addictive effect. You are his absolute delight.
The boy will paint your portraits, he will exalt you like a goddess.
So why do you only see him as a friend?
Hwang Hyunjin doesn't deserve to be your friend, he wants to be your boyfriend.
The boy loves to hurt himself, he loves hardcore. He loves pain and whines a lot.
He just replaces you with pain, it helps.
Touch me, yeah
I want you to touch me there
Make me feel like I am breathing
Feel like I am human (The neighbourhood–A little death)
Han Jisung
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You never paid attention to Jisung.
But Jisung was so loud and cheerful that he started to annoy you.
Jisung did this on purpose, he liked you.
The boy will notice you immediately, you immediately fell into his soul. So cold and inaccessible.
He wants to melt the ice on your heart, he wants to become your sun.
Every day he fell more in love with you, the cold intensifying his desire.
“Your love is addictive” – your words
He is very kind and cheerful with you, he is so easy to talk to.
He won't give up to get you. Even when you send him the rudest obscenities
I'm your boy.
He will sing to you, and you will ask him to shut up. You secretly love it, his voice is so beautiful.
But you should hate Han Jisung because it's the right thing to do.
You would get closer to him, but...
No.
"Is it fashionable to jerk off to him?"
"hit of the season"
Lee Felix
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It was impossible not to fall in love with Felix.
everyone loves Felix!
And he loves you.
This sunny boy literally drowned in his love for you, it completely absorbed him and did not allow other feelings to pass through.
But you don't seem to notice him.
Felix dreamed about you, you are in his thoughts. The first thought in the morning, a relieving thought when he is busy and the last thought before going to bed.
He's trying to get as close to you as possible
He will become your best friend.
Felix is too good, he is an angel in a human body.
The world is not worthy of Felix, so why did he love you?
Every day, like a painful melody, this unrequited love sounded in his heart. He experienced all emotions - from boundless happiness to deep sadness - alone
He couldn't imagine life without you
If you leave, there will be no point in living.
He writes you poems, he gives you the most expensive gifts, he just wants you to love him. Love him at least a little.
Perhaps his efforts will remain irretrievably lost in time. But one thing is certain: he will continue to love you, deeply and truly, even if he never hears your answer.
Come on scratch my back
So as to reach the heart
Both you and I want this (ЩЕНКИ–dirt)
Kim Seungmin
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It's like he's afraid to get close to you.
On the contrary, he moves away. Every day it gets stronger, he loves you so much and doesn’t want to see you so much.
Seungmin took this step not because of a lack of love; in fact, on the contrary, he was struck by this love.
In every breath you took, every word you said, he found the perfect embodiment of his dreams. You were his sun, his muse, his everything.
But he knew he couldn't be with you. He saw how disappointed you were in your past love, how your trust and heart were damaged. He couldn't afford to repeat the same mistake. He couldn't risk their relationship knowing that the end could only be pain and disappointment.
It hurts so much to give up on someone you love.
He deserved happiness, he deserved love, but he couldn't have it with you.
He didn't want to ruin your life or be the source of your pain.
He will go away and it will be easier for everyone.
He will disappear from your life as suddenly as he appeared.
He will never forget you, he will never stop loving you. But he knows that sometimes the best decision is to let go of the one you love. This is exactly what he did because to him, your happiness was much more important than his own.
He looks at the dawn and remembers you.
Your nose is covered in cocaine, you can barely stand
I am the secret that you cannot hide
I think about you too much (Pharaoh-unplugged 2)
Yang Jeongin
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You are his first love.
He sees a future with you, he sees stars in you.
It was the first time he felt such strong feelings for someone.
Oh, he is just learning about love, but it can hurt or beat sometimes. Love can completely break the psyche.
But he doesn't care as long as you exist.
Jeongin will turn to the Hyuns for advice. how to get your attention and make you fall in love.
He will be so romantic...he will be so gentle with you.
He is afraid to do something wrong so as not to scare you away
He will be a gentleman and will wait for the moment until you fall in love, he will do everything for this!
He will wait for you all his life if necessary, but I am sure that you will fall in love faster.
“He replaced my home, love and friends. He is my everything.”
Jeongin is like warm weather, everyone is waiting for him and wants him.
Feeling so lonely, 'cause it's not enough
Missin' you only ever since we fell in love (Ciggarets after sex–Touch)
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drvscarlett · 1 month
Text
Let Him Cook Pt4
Series Part 1, 2, 3, 4
Taglist: @bookstore-of-dreams @barcelonaloverf1life @ririyulife @minseok-smaus @mehrmonga @sltwins @charlesgirl16 @six-call @spideybv28 @casperlikej @weekendlusting @janeholt3 @evie-119 @leilanixx @randomgirlnumber-13 @itsjustkhaos
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Y/NCooks just posted a photo.
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Y/NCooks Finally some vitamin seaaaaaaaaaaaaa
User1 Oh she is living the life!
Friend1 Say hi to the boyfriend for me
YNCooks he says hi Friend1 enjoy lovebirds!!!
User2 She is so hot and her boyfriend is equally hot. Power couple!
User3 Something about that back and that filter seems kinda familiar.
User4 OMG right? Its like I know it from somewhere but I can't pinpoint it. User5 I thought I was the only one but it seems like its really familiar.
User6 Its giving a pinterest vibes! She is everything I aspire to be.
User7 Are you still the one in-charge of cooking Y/N?
Y/NCooks Yuppp. But don't worry because he lifts the grocery and pays for the food, its an equal relationship User8 The boyfriend seems like a catch
User9 God when will it be me?
Charles_Leclerc just posted a photo.
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Charles_Leclerc good food and good company
User1 Who is that??? Who is that hand?????
User2 Charles is finally breaking his single streak, a sad day for all the Charles girlies
PierreGasly Oh so that's why your boat was missing Charles_Leclerc I'm not discussing it here PierreGasly We just want to know, who is the lucky lady User3 Ohmygod Pierre just found out just like we all did
User4 That blue filter is back
User5 Just when we thought he forgot about it
User6 why is everyone and their partners softlaunching in a yacht
User7 who else is in a yacht? User6 There's this homecook and masterchef winner named Y/N that is softlaunching their partner on a yacht User7 Oh bestie that back looks familiar, don't you think User9 User9 SUSPICIOUS!!! User9 Nah, I highly doubt Charles can bag a chef. I mean the man couldn't cook pasta and its just pasta User7 you are probably right, im just delulu
"This is getting mildly annoying"Charles pouted "Usually they are quick to connect the pieces"
"All in due time honey"
It was actually a funny thing for you since fans find it highly impossible that Charles could bag a chef as his partner. You wouldn't tell Charles but you admit that his cooking skills is not a major selling point to a lot of chefs out there.
Ever since MasterChef ended, you two have been open about going public. The relationship has been kept in wraps for over 3 years so Charles is feeling pretty confident that it has already been a tested by time. But more than that, Charles opened up how he wanted to go public so that he'll be able to showcase his support.
"I can't wait for them to figure it out just so I can tell the world that I am the luckiest guy in the world for having you as my partner" he clings to you as a loopy smile appears on his face.
"And I can't wait to showcase the world how you have been drastically improving with your cooking skills" you smile "You can be my sous chef when you are off season"
"I'm not really sure if you are being sarcastic but I'll take this as a win and I'm considering myself masterchef approved"
The Gordon incident
There were 5 missed calls from Charles which made you slightly worried. You were unable to answer the call since you were driving home. You immediately rushed to the apartment and you saw a weird scenario. Charles was spread out on the floor, face down and seems to be in pain.
"What happened to you?"you asked as you set down your bag at the counter.
"Leave me be, I am a disgrace. I have fallen from heaven." Charles moped.
"Seriously honey, what's going on. You are scaring me"
Charles only lifted his phone for you to look at. You looked at it and it was a screenshot from Twitter with a quote tweet from Gordon about the pasta incident.
"Charles, you can't bag a chef if your cooking is as disastrous as that. Call me when you have the time-Oh my god. Gordon did not just say that" you burst out laughing.
"Laugh in my misery, go ahead and laugh."
You have to contain your giggles but then you cannot seem to help yourself. Charles continued to mope at the floor how no one will believe that you are his girlfriend now.
"It was just one time that I wasn't able to cook pasta properly, one time"
"Yes honey but the internet is forever"
After a while, Charles got up and you were slightly confused when he started bringing out the pots and pans out of the cupboard. He took out some of the pasta and then he grabbed his apron.
"You are going to teach me and we won't stop till I get a good pasta redemption" Charles said with full determination.
There was a bright idea that suddenly popped in your head, "I think I can do something better than that"
You started to type in your phone and after a while your phone started ringing. A familiar face on the screen and Charles almost fainted after hearing the accent.
"YOU GOT GORDON ON SPEED DIAL TO TEACH ME?"
Dinner with the drivers
The Australian Grand Prix was the first time that you actually met Charles' friends and former teammates. Charles arranged for an exclusive dinner with the grid drivers of 2025 in your restaurant.
"How did you get a reservation here Charles? I have been trying to get one for my parents, they love the Chef here and supported her during the masterchef days"Oscar asked.
"I know someone" Charles was trying his best to suppress his grin and elaborate further.
"Make sure to tell me later, I would love to bring my parents here. Cheers mate"
Dinner went on progressively well. There were variation of cuisines available and it catered to their specific Even Lewis loved that the vegan option was vast and Nando even agrees that if this is how much food options vegan has then he can go Vegan.
It was now tiMe for dessert and some drivers opted for a coffee while some thinks they deserve for a cheat day.
"Is this Ferrari's new strategy to shaving weight?"Max joked "Make the other drivers eat more so the car will be unbalanced"
"Fred is getting more creative with his strategy eh. Last year with my appendix and this year with Charles' food"Carlos agreed
The whole table erupted with the antics but Pierre is dying with curiosity already. Charles kept on mentioning how tonight is a really important night for him to announce something. He can't forget this dinner since its all that Charles has been talking about ever since they arrived in Australia.
"But in all honesty, you said you have something to tell us Charles" Pierre wondered "I'm dying to know"
Charles excused himself for a second and all the drivers on the table watched as he went to the kitchen. You were still in your chef's jacket when Charles spotted you.
"Is it time already? Do I look okay?"
"You look more than gorgeous mon amour"Charles replied, giving you a soft kiss to the cheeks.
The two of you walked out of the kitchen with hands interlaced with one another. The table suddenly fell quiet as they saw the two of you approaching the table. Charles has the most smug grin on his face.
"Everyone, I would like you to introduce the talented and amazing Chef for tonight Y/N" Charles lifted your intertwined hands "And she's also my girlfriend"
The drivers were all silent and shocked as they pieced out everything together. Then the flurry of questions started.
"Did you try Charles' pasta?" "Were you poisoned to say yes to him?" "How on earth did Charles get a MasterChef winner" "Can you teach me how you made the appetizer with the pea and corn"
It was so funny and you two were in a long night for explaining. But as you sat down bext to Charles, you felt at ease. You know that you can handle anything together.
The accidental reveal
Charles_Leclerc just posted a photo.
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Charles_Leclerc We’ll do everything together to get as many of those trophies in the years to come
User1 Charles is a future WDC
User2 those trophies needs a little bit of polishing, don't you think?
User3 The dust that they have been collecting
User4 Leave the man alone, he's away from home 24/7
User5 is it just me or did you guys see the MasterChef trophy at the back
User6 isn't that the australian trophy, maybe its the p2 from last year User7 nooo! User5 is right, it has the logo
User8 SIR THAT TROPHY IN THE BACK ISN'T YOURS
landonorris lol since when did you have time to do a sidequest with masterchef while we race User10 LANDO! maxverstappen1 surprised he can hold himself till the end. CarlosSainz55 surprised he can cook Charles_Leclerc uninvited for dinner landonorris NOW WAIT A SECOND
Charles_Leclerc and Y/NCooks posted a photo.
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Charles_Leclerc spot the game difference is getting difficult.
User1 Man really said fuck it!
User2 I can't believe this crossover
User3 If someone told me this happened a year ago, I would have laughed at you User4 There is no way Charles_Leclerc Why not, I have lots of redeeming qualities
User5 So you mean to say Charles Leclerc is the boyfriend she has been talking about in MasterChef. How did we not piece this out together?
User6 The adopted by the italian family. The cake after Charles P3 in Jeddah. The long distance relationship. THE LECLERC BROTHERS AS HER CLOSEST FRIENDS. HOW DID WE NOT SEE IT User7 I think its because we think Charles can't bag Y/N Charles_Leclerc you all underestimated me
User8 My new favorite trope, the woman who loves to cook for Gordon and the man who loves to get grilled by Gordon
User9 IM LAUGHING! Remember that tweet Charles_Leclerc I'll have you know that I have improved!
User12 Where can I get Y/N, she is so beautiful and talented
Charles_Leclerc sorry out of stock!!!!
User10 Im laughing at how Charles is fighting everyone in the comment section. He really said, he has time
Y/NCooks posted a photo
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Y/NCooks the first two was taken two weeks into dating. We preferred staying indoors and the comforts of the house so we could have our privacy. Charles burned the fries and that's a photo of him insisting it was crispy not burnt // fast forward to two weeks ago when he insisted on cooking pasta and making pizza, it was pretty good. The pasta was actually al dente and the pizza was made from scratch.
Thank you honey for growing with me for the past 3 years. I love you all the way from Melbourne to Monaco (or whichever country you are in rn)
User1 This is so wholesome, I ship them together
User2 CHARLES CREMATED THE FRIES
User3 3 YEARS???? THAT MADE ME EVEN MORE SURPRISED
Gordongram FINALLY. The boyfriend is revealed. Hope I can taste some of your cooking Charles_Leclerc
Charles_Leclerc please have mercy on me Y/NCooks He cooks as much as he can so he can cook for you as a thanks for your tutorial lessons User5 GORDON TAUGHT CHARLES???? WHATTTT
User6 God I have seen what you have done for others
User7 I'm looking back at every post of Y/N about the boyfriend. I think I'm sleeping at the highway
User8 same, they are so lovely with each other
User9 Couple goals!
Charles_Leclerc I love you so much. But I thought you deleted that first date photo
Y/NCooks the internet is forever honeyyyyy User10 I love them so much
landonorris so now the cat is out of the bag, can you teach me how to cook now?
yukitsunoda0511 me tooooo! maxverstappen1 i wanna learn too Charles_Leclerc you're cooking maxverstappen1 ??? maxverstappen1 if you can cook, anyone can cook Charles_Leclerc you are always cooking during the races, let me have this maxverstappen1 no :)) landonorris I JUST WANT COOKING LESSONS!
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epichnopterix · 2 years
Text
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half old concept half dream vision
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kedreeva · 2 months
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Okay, I haven't wanted to talk much about the peafowl lately, been just kinda dealing with Stan's passing, but! I have news I don't want to keep quiet, so here we go with a little announcement.
I've been helping a friend of mine with a bunch of peafowl genetics work lately, as he's trying to prove out a really neat phenotype of speckled and white peafowl that showed up in his breeding stock, and he just spent tens of thousands of dollars importing two new morphs from Europe: European violet (aka, my dream morph) and Ultramarine (pretty and only otherwise being produced by TWO breeders in the WORLD). When Bill heard about Stan, he asked if I was going to go to a large farm auction that's a few hours from my house. I don't, normally, since it's a few hours from my house and the auctions usually make me kinda sad when it comes to peafowl (they stress out SO MUCH) even though it's cool to see how much they're going for at a wider audience auction.
Then he told me he would be going, and that if I wanted to come down the day before the auction, he'd bring me another male, to replace Stan. I had already made plans to hang onto Bismuth, at least for a few years, and to pick up babies from Indie x Arcana/Eclipse this november, including a male, so I didn't really need another male, and don't have the cash for one anyway. He said no, he meant one of the split EUV males from last year's first-USA breeding. For free. As a thank you for helping him.
To put this into perspective, importing the birds is a ~$10k affair, per bird. I had fully resigned myself to never even SEEING one of these birds in person, much less ever owning one. Even if someone else got them imported, they would remain thousands of dollars for the first few years, and quickly become mixed with other stuff, potentially even be lost by people breeding to purple. He went in on a group import with another breeder and they have both just started selling the full-color birds for over $2k apiece (alongside Ultramarine, which before their import was bred by TWO people in the WORLD, and babies from that are going for almost $7k each, but EUV is more widely spread). Splits (like the one I will be getting) are being let go for $750. This is also the color I have desperately wanted since I first saw them 8-10 years ago (though I believe they've been around slightly longer), but that I had resigned myself to never actually having.
To put it mildly, I'm probably going to burst into tears when I see Bill and this bird. It's going to be super embarrassing. And then I'm going to have to build more pens. And then I'm going to have to get as plain-blue, pure-indian blue hens as I can find, and become one of the most serious curators of plain pure EUV in the US, because I know the other two who have them currently will be outcrossing to other patterns/colors immediately and the people buying them will likely be doing the same, and everyone will be clamoring to make them into high Spaldings ASAP, or won't know not to cross them to purples and wreck the color.
Here's the sire cock, the one imported:
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You will notice that this bird is purple in full sun, from the sunny side. That's the main difference between European violet and US purple- a US purple looks blue until you get the right angle on the sun vs the bird vs the camera, and you have to get the bird between you and the sun, so the purple is often in the shadow side- visible to the eye but not the camera. EUV is just purple. Even from the sunny side!!
And the Ultramarine, in case you were wondering about their color:
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(pics reposted w/ permission from Bill)
The breeder is Spring Creek Peafowl, and in case anyone is secretly a peafowl breeder or knows other peafowl breeders with too much money that want in on a new color morph, he DOES have UM pairs and EUV hens (and more split males) for sale currently, for less than the only other person in the US that has them. They're still pricey, but cheaper. I WISH I had the extra to have my friend add on an EUV hen, but alas, I will have to wait to make my own in a few years. Even just the opportunity to do so is something I never expected to have!
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