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greatstormcat · 7 months

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COD Omegaverse Part 2

Part 1 part 3

Alpha!Ghost x Omega!Soap x Omega!f!reader

TW: MDNI 18+, fluff and smut, double penetration, anal, threesome, angst, past trauma

Gaz looked at you, still smiling to himself as you stared at him in confusion. Who would be interested in you? Why even would they? As far as Omegas went you were not the perfect, dainty little specimen that Alphas craved and fought over. You didn’t cower and submit to stronger figures automatically, you only gave respect where it was due, when it was earned. Up until now you’d never even been with an Alpha, for fear they’d scent out your secret and tell the world. You’d put up strong walls around yourself, for your own protection, avoiding physical intimacy. That was, until you found your Pack with the 141.

the soft kindness in Gaz’s eyes, almost looking like pity now, made you start to wonder if those walls had been built too tall, too thick for your own good.

“I know you’re whole thing about hiding your designation,” he said quietly, “but have you considered you’ve gotten so good at it you’ve started losing who you are? Perhaps you’ve gotten so good at hiding you are missing out on something important?”

“Gaz, I’m scared if I let anyone close I will lose who I am anyway,” you reply.

“You have seen the other Omegas on base, they are in the same boat as you. You’re just as strong as any of them, I’ve even seen you take down Soap in drills. Just think about it, and open your eyes to what’s going on around you for fucks sake.” He grinned as he finished speaking, again hinting that you were oblivious to something everyone else saw.

Ghost was waiting outside the entrance to the Medbay, and looked up as you came outside.

“Wanted to check you were okay and take you back to barracks,” he explained, looking you up and down. “You’re still looking pale, you eaten yet?”

“Yes, I have Lt, just need some sleep now,” you reply, scratching at the raw mark where the IV needle had been taped into your arm. His eyes caught the movement and he took your arm in his hand to inspect the red skin, turning your arm gently side to side. As he did, you spotted that his gloves were rolled back slightly exposing his wrists. It was an odd habit he’d gotten into around you over the last few months and…

The realization hit you like a vengeful god had struck you with a thunderbolt. You suddenly thought of all the times Soap had found an excuse to hug you, put his arm around you, marking you with his scent. Ghost had a habit of being near you during exercises and drills involving other Alphas, always being teamed up with you or sudden switches happening bringing him nearer. Gaz’s words rang in your head, you really had been oblivious to something so clear.

Ghost stopped what he was doing and looked at you, eyebrow raised.

“Problem?” He rumbled.

“No, sir,” you replied but your face betrayed the mix of emotions you felt.

“Well, let’s get you back. You look like crap still,” he told you, and then wrapped his hand gently around your arm to move you along.

“Lieutenant, can I ask you something rather personal,” you asked.

“Yeah,” he replied simply, still guiding you along a route he knew that you knew perfectly well.

“You and Soap,” you started but didn’t know how to continue your line of questioning. What did you want to ask? Did you even really want to know the answer?

“You gonna finish the question or am I expected to guess?” He asked with a chuckle, looking down at you. The hand on your arm shifted and slid up to your shoulder, his thumb brushing against your neck very so slightly.

“Let me try again. I wanted to know if you were serious about what you said back in Price’s office, that you were fine with me going around with your scent on me?” The movement of his thumb was very light, enough that you were able to resist the sensation while still enjoying it.

“Sergeant, you are one of the smartest soldiers I’ve ever worked with,” he began, “but you can miss obvious so easily sometimes.” He didn’t make it sound insulting, like it was just an observation instead so there was no sting in his words. “Soap and I have been interested in you since before we even knew you were an Omega.”

He stopped walking, and you realised you were outside your door now. He stood in front of you, hand slipping from your shoulder to the back of your neck now, his eyes burning into yours.

“We’ve talked and, well, we’d like to court you, if you’d be interested?” There was your answer, and now your Lieutenant was waiting for yours while resting his hand on the back of your neck. There was nowhere to hide now, he knew you and knew you well, his eyes watching your face carefully.

“I’d like that,” you

A few days after your talk with Ghost, Soap caught up to you as you were heading towards the rec room. He approached carrying a paper bag in his hand as he called out to you. When you slowed to greet him, his smile warm and infectious, he held the bag to you unceremoniously.

“What’s this?” You asked, opening the bag and peering inside. You pulled out a soft, thick blanket and it smelled heavily of Soap, as though he had purposely scented it himself before giving it to you. You stared at it in shock and confusion. “It’s a blanket…”

“It’s a courting gift, for your nest,” he said with a confused frown which turned to concern when he saw no sign of understanding on your face. “You have a nest, dontcha?” You swallow back tears, despising the feel of the pain in your chest.

“I’ve never actually nested,” you admit, rubbing the soft material between your fingers and releasing more of the wonderful scent. “If someone found it…” your voice cracked and you stopped speaking, unable to meet Soap’s eyes as you knew there would be pity in them.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “That’s a powerful instinct to ignore. Even I’ve always made sure I have somewhere to go, even when I was hidin’ my designation.” He sighed deeply and leant his head against yours so he could speak as softly as possible. “Be honest with me, are you ashamed of yourself? Of being an Omega?”

The one question you had never wanted to be asked hung in the air before you, and there was nowhere to run from it. You clenched the blanket in your fists, tears burning your eyes worse than any chemical warfare agent you had ever experienced, and nodded once.

The hug Soap enveloped you in was tight and fierce, crushing the air from your lungs with its intensity.

“Right, how about this, I will help you build yerself a nest. Okay?” He looked you squarely in the eyes, palms pressed to the sides of your face. He blinked as a thought struck him and he got up, grabbing your wrist and dragging you behind him. “Come on,” he said, as you were pulled down the hallway to the quarters he shared with Ghost. Soap opened the door and pulled you in, shutting it firmly behind you before turning to face you, his expression unreadable.

“This is to show you that I am serious about how I, we, feel about you and that you don’t need to be ashamed. Okay?” He said, resting his forehead against yours. The mixture of scents in the room were a symphony as Soap tugged your hand and led you to the far side of the bed. There, tucked into the corner was a collection of blankets, pillows and clothing. The smell rising from it was a strong mixture of both men and their bond, and it crept into your head teasing and calling to you.

“It’s okay,” he encouraged you, helping you take off your boots and easing you into the collection fabrics. You made sure not to disturb anything as you sat down, and Soap quickly joined you, pulling you down to curl with him against his chest.

The effect was immediate and intense. You relaxed, felt yourself let go of all tension and melted against Soap who held you gently in his arms, stroking your hair. Your eyes drifted shut as your heartbeat slowed, you allowed yourself to nuzzle against Soap, and that was when you felt the vibration in his chest begin low and gentle. It took longer than it should have to realise he was purring as he held you, and the sound drew you further into a state of contentment.

The door opened and you flinched before Soap shushed you, a low chuckle sounding in his chest. You heard an audible inhale of breath as Ghost caught your scent in his private quarters.

“What the fu…” Ghost’s words died in his throat as he moved around the bed and saw Soap and you curled together in the nest. “Johnny, care to explain?” He asked softly, his eyes bouncing between the pair of you as slowly eased himself down to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Don’t get too excited, Simon,” Soap chuckled, “just needed to show the lass what she’s been missin’. Ghost watched as you sat up, Soap continuing to lounge propped up on his elbow beside you but resting his hand on your knee.

“Yeah? What’s that?” Although you couldn’t see his face, his tone betrayed what you imagined would be a huge grin beneath his balaclava. You wondered if he would remove it if you accepted their proposal as mates.

You met Ghost’s eyes and gave a shrug.

“He’s going to help me build a nest. I’ve never had one before,” you explain.

“No nest?” Ghost repeated incredulously, his brows furrowing as he looked down at you and he took a deep breath then blew it out slowly as though controlling himself. “How have you ended up living like this? It’s more than just hiding your designation, something happened to you in the past...”

“My dad, he would rant about Omegas a lot when I was little,” you explained. “He said Omegas were attention seekers, whores or worse. When I started to present as one, he lost it and kicked me out,” As much as it hurt you to relive the memory, being able to share it was cathartic, especially whilst Soap cradled you against his chest.

The scent of Ghost’s anger cut through the air, his hands clenched until his knuckles went white and he growled low in his throat.

“Simon,” Soap warned his mate gently, recognising the protective edge of Ghost glinting through his outer calm. Ghost shook his head, running his head over the top of his head. “She knows she doesn’t have to live like that now, it’s okay.”

“I do, it’s okay. I know I’ve been living half a life up to now and you’re both helping. Honestly.”

You carefully got out of Soap’s nest and stood up, feeling content and more sure of yourself than you had in years.

“I should go,” you said with a smile, picking up the bag containing the blanket.

“I’d rather you stayed,” the Alpha said firmly, “but it’s up to you.” You walked to the door. “Wait,” came a firm command which stopped you in your tracks. Ghost stood and walked to you pulling his t-shirt over his head as he went, then held it out to you with a raised eyebrow. “Johnny gave you his gift. This is mine, maybe it can be the start of your first nest.” You hear Soap swear softly, and you accepted the warm fabric. You pressed it to your nose and inhaled, earning a satisfied hum from the Alpha, who nodded with approval.

“Thank you, both of you,”

It took a few days, a trip off base during some down time with Soap’s guidance, but you finally completed construction of your nest. Once you had allowed yourself to start the project you were amazed at how important the task became to you. The placement of each item was carefully scrutinised and adjusted, until you were happy with the outcome. Ghost’s t-shirt was given a prominent position, alongside the blanket Soap had given you at the start of the endeavor.

Eventually you felt comfortable enough that you decided to invite the other Omega to join you.

“You ready for that, hen?” He had replied after you made the offer in a break in training.

“I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t, would I?” You replied with a grin.

“Fair enough, it’s gonna drive Simon nuts you realize?” he smirked, nodding across at the Lieutenant who was busy across the training ground. “He’s dying to see what you’ve made, and if you’ll ask him to see it.”

“All in good time, you’ve both been patient with me and I can’t be grateful enough for that,” you said. “But between you and me, I promise he will very soon.”

Later that day, you opened the door to your quarters in answer to Soap’s knock. His gorgeous, smiling face greeted you, and you bite your bottom lip to fight the urge to kiss him then and there.

“Come on in,” you smiled, letting him step inside. He looked around happily wandering about the space, stopping only when he saw your nest.

“Looks good, you’ve done well for a first timer,” he said softly, giving you another beaming smile. You lowered yourself down into the comforting softness and beckoned him in with you. Soap moved gently beside you, slipping his arm under you and shifting you so he could spoon up behind you in the warmth of the nest.

This time, when you began to relax, it was you who purred. It was the first time in your life you had felt safe and happy enough to do so, and Soap kissed the back of your neck in response. His own purr started shortly after, and you wondered what Ghost’s response would be to having two mates with him just like this moment.

You felt Soap’s lips on the skin of your neck again, leaving a tingling wetness behind that cooled under his breath, and a rush of arousal coursed through your veins. It bled into your scent almost instantly in your relaxed and unguarded state.

“Soap…” you whispered, hips gently pressing back against his.

“I know, hen. Can smell it on ya,” he whispered against your neck and placed a firmer kiss. He slipped his hand down from your hip to your thigh and squeezed. “Not yet though, love. I promised Si I’d keep my paws to myself for now.”

You sighed with frustration. “I know, it’s probably best while we work out what we are doing. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck,” you pour playfully.

“Can’t be too careful now,” he agreed and placed another kiss against your neck despite the obvious effect it had on you.”how ‘bout I go and let you rest, rather than get you riled up?”

“Okay, and say goodnight to Ghost for me,” you say as Soap got up, cresting a cold space behind you that you instantly hated. “Actually, let him know I’d like him to come here tomorrow after training. If he wants to, that is.”

Soap grinned even wider than before.

“Aye, he will be here, trust me on that.”

Ghost looked down at the fabrics, eyes taking in the items from Soap and himself with pride, his chest swelling.

“That’s a good nest,” he said with a nod, and reached into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a wad of black fabric. “Just needs one more thing though,” he unfolded the wad to reveal one of his balaclavas.

“Oh, yes that would be nice,” you reached out for it, but he pulled it back.

“No, that one's clean, no scent on it,” he said and reached up and pulled the one he was wearing off his face. He smiled at you, messy blonde hair ruffled by the mask, lips crooked with scars and a nose bent from too many breaks, but warm and beaming at you all the same. Your heart thundered in your chest as you looked at him. “You take this one,” he held out the mask to you, smirking at your shocked response. “The other ones for later when I leave.”

“Thanks,” you managed to say, and cracked a massive smile back at him before gesturing towards the nest.

He squeezed himself into the space with you, thick limbs adjusting with instinctual ease to surround you, protect you like any good Alpha should. Like you Alpha should, the thought came so easily now. His nose pressed against your scent gland and your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, your body suddenly falling soft and limp. He felt your reflex, and chuffed against your skin.

“You’re a good Omega,” he said softly, lips just touching against your neck. “You shouldn’t feel you need to hide, be proud of yourself. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you sir,” you whisper back.

“I think we can forget that ‘sir’ stuff for now. Simon will do just fine.”

“Thank you, Simon,” you grin. There was an answering growl from him as he heard his name leave your lips, and he kissed at your gland sending another wave of bonelessness through you which this time you managed to resist. He chuckled in response, a deep and wicked sound.

“Yeah, such a good fucking Omega,” he growled and kissed harder at the raise flesh to test you. This time a whimper escaped your throat as you fought the urge to submit, and Ghost pushed his hips against your backside, rubbing his hardening cock against you.

When his tongue ran over the sensitive patch of skin, you moaned openly and he pulled your shoulder back so he could kiss you. His tongue slid against your lips and you opened obediently for him, letting him taste you deeply. You curled your fingers into his hair and tugged, deepening the kiss and urging him on. The smell of arousal suffused the air around you, but he suddenly pulled back.

“Fuck, you’re delicious,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip. “We’re not going any further though, just so you know.”

“Yeah, Soap said the same thing yesterday. Something about being careful until I decide what to do.”

“That’s right,” Ghost replied softly. “I don’t want you making a decision in the heat of the moment that you then regret. We want to be your mates, but only if you’ll have us.”

“Well, I accept you both.”

Ghost pulled off his mask the second the door his quarters shut and turned the lock. In a blur of movement he then had you pinned to the wall beside the door, caged with his arms either side of your head and his face close to yours.

“Say it,” he said. Soap had been lounging in his nest and sat bolt upright as he caught the scent rolling off the two of you. When he heard Ghost’s words he got to his feet quickly and moved closer.

“What’s goin’ on?” He asked with an eyebrow raised as he looked between Ghost and you.

“Say it. Tell Johnny what you said,” Ghost rumbled, eyes never leaving yours as you chewed the inside of your mouth trying to hide your smile.

“I said that I accept you both,” you replied firmly. Ghost’s mouth crashed against yours in an almost violent kiss, his hands pulling at your clothes desperately. Soap swore under his breath and began to strip as well, knowing full well what would happen now.

The three of you tumble onto the bed, you pulled Soap towards you to kiss him as well, as Ghost kicked away the remaining items of clothing. For a moment he stood and admired the two Omegas in his bed, his Omegas, as Soap kissed you with equal ferocity to his current mate.

You felt Ghost’s hands skate along the inside of your bare thighs and glanced down, but Soap pulled your attention back to him by nipping your bottom lip. You tried to cry out when Ghost’s tongue pressed against your slit but Soap swallowed the sound with his persistent and demanding mouth.

Ghost’s tongue worked up and down your slit, drawing out your slick with each pass until you were moaning and writhing with the need for more.

This was nothing like before, they were taking their time with you, there was no burning pain this time, just the pleasure of the three of you being together because you chose to be. This was happening because you wanted it to.

Soap kissed along your jaw, neck and then collarbone before running his tongue across the swell of your breast. As Ghost began to tease your clit with his tongue, Soap flicked at your nipple with his tongue. The dual sensations caused you to shudder with pleasure, eager to see where this would lead.

With a rumbling moan Ghost pressed his mouth against your pussy and licked deep into you, pushing as far inside as he could go, causing your back to arch up off the bed.

“Oh fuck!” You gasped out as you felt his tongue moving in and out of you, his hands gripped your thighs to keep them spread open for him.

Soap watched with a lax mouth, mesmerized by the sight before him, his hard cock straining with need. You reached out and wrapped your fingers around Soap’s length and began to pump it, drawing a guttural moan from deep in his chest and his head fell back on his shoulders in ecstasy. You felt the huff of air leaving Ghost’s lungs as he watched you and Soap, but his tongue never stilled. As Ghost pushed you closer to orgasm, your hand worked Soap feverishly, your combined moans music to his ears and precum dribbled along the hard shaft of Soap’s cock.

Without warning Ghost sat back on his heels, chin and mouth coated with your slick as he watched Soap tremble, nearing orgasm at your ministrations.

“Johnny, I want you here, now,” Ghost ordered, pulling the Omega to position himself between your shaking thighs, and then pressing between his shoulders so he was on top of you. “You can come after when she does, not before.”

Soap lined his leaking cock up with your entrance and pressed in, hissing at the tight heat as it surrounded him, and you moaned wantonly as he began to thrust into you slowly taking you closer to your orgasm. There was movement on the bed, and Soap suddenly stilled and shuddered.

“Fuck… Si, what are you… ah!” You felt Soap’s cock twitching inside you, and you realised that Ghost was behind him sinking his cock into the other Omega’s slicked hole. When Ghost thrust into him, you felt the force through Soap’s cock and gasped.

“Remember Johnny, not before she cums,” Ghost growled and began thrusting. You were already teetering on the brink of orgasm, but the sight and feel of Ghost fucking Soap into you pushed you quickly over the edge and you orgasmed hard clutching onto Soap’s shoulders. Your inner walls clenched onto Soap’s straining length as Ghost pounded into him, and he followed you over the edge quickly, gasping and whimpering with the sensations.

Soap carefully moved off of you, kissing you tenderly, and you felt Ghost move himself into position. His cock glistened with Soap’s slick as he teased it against your sensitive flesh until you rolled your hips, chasing the blunt head as he collected Soap’s seed as it leaked from you.

With one smooth thrust Ghost pushed into you, the ripples of your first orgasm merging into a new wave of pleasure, building towards another quickly. Ghost leant down to you, his breathe coming in harsh pants until he latched onto the side over your neck, drinking in your scent and you felt his knot growing and catching. The pressure when it finally caught made you cum again.

As you orgasmed again Ghost sank his fangs into your gland, marking you as his mate, and you fell completely limp in his arms as he came, painting you inner walls with his cum. The mark throbbed, but in a wonderful way, and Ghost lay you carefully on the bed, your back against Soap. Both men, your mates, pressed themselves against you, damp with sweat and scents mingling into one beautiful bonding scent, along with the combined purrs of both Ghost’s Omegas.

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fingertipsmp3 · 2 years

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Do you ever see something and think ‘wow, I’m a people-pleaser, but not that much’

#i lurk on r/craftsnark because it’s surprisingly entertaining and it seems like every other week they have the debate #about whether it’s okay to sell something you knitted from a pattern #like say if you bought a hat pattern from somebody and made a ton of hats based on said pattern. is it okay to sell those knitted hats #the thing is that all of it is a moot point imo because regardless of what you think about it ethically; it is legal #you can only copyright a pattern. not the objects made from the pattern. it Can be a breach of contract law but the contract #has to be proven #anyway so with all this in mind; this week there was this thread where someone had been messaged by a designer #who was like ‘hey can you stop selling things made from [x pattern] that’s against my terms of use’#and literally they were way too civil about it #i consider myself to be a doormat but i still would’ve been like ‘i’m not going to stop. if you can find a law to sue me under #we can settle this in court. until then good luck getting the stick out of your arse’ and then i would’ve blocked them #i mean can you imagine this happening in any other field? if i look up.. idk… a list of instructions on how to build a desk #and then i decide i want to sell the desk i made.. is the writer of the instructions going to be in my inbox? i highly doubt it #do the people who make art tutorials sue anybody whose art gets better based on their directions?#did blake snyder sue everybody who used a save the cat beat sheet to plan their novel????#maybe not the same exact thing but it is some ridiculous shit. it’s one of those ‘debates’ i’m just sick of seeing #because the answer is so obviously ‘just do it’#it’s legal and how can it possibly be morally wrong. you’re taking nothing away from the designer. no one who wants a hat #is going to buy a piece of paper instead. it’s two separate markets #i’m sick of even talking about it. thanks for reading this nonsense if you did #personal

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trashmouth-richie · 6 months

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𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: escaping Hawkins was impossible, but he did it. when a ghost from your past shows up unexpectedly, bringing with him old memories and holding up a mirror to the train wreck life you’re living… you find it hard to trust him again.

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ no minors, depictions of poverty, child neglect/ endangerment, drug use/abuse, alcohol use/abuse, endangerment, 18+ sex working, 18+stripping, violence, smut. no use of y/n reader has a name that’s introduced in the first chapter, and another “nickname” that is lightly used throughout this series. eddie also has a nickname given by reader.

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: this series switches pov’s between reader and eddie, thank you to @succubusmunson @joejoequinnquinn @choke-me-eddie @sweetsweetjellybean for helping me read through the first chapter, helped me brainstorm etc i love you

there are two easter eggs in this let me know if you catch em! like pokémon only not

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞: here i come, but i ain’t the same

masterlist

Stupid fucking bitch.

One dial tone waned into another, a monotonous wave taunting you from the end of the receiver. Your fingers tap impatiently against the counter. How long could a phone actually ring before it stopped or someone finally answered?

Too damn long apparently.

Giving up and counting your losses, you slam the receiver back on the wall, muttering more choice words as you skirt your hips behind the wooden bar, thumbing through the blue lined notebook schedule.

Work was packed. More-so than any other Friday night, but since it was the beginning of graduation weekend for Hawkins High— every Sam, Dick, and Harry had wandered into the bar looking for a cheap escape and a sugary drink.

Lucky for them, that was exactly what Queen of Hearts had on the menu. And if you talked to the right person, the luck didn’t stop there.

“No answer?” Jolene called over her shoulder, hands full with a bottle of Jack Daniels.

Scribbling an angry dark mark through the name Ginger on the schedule, you toss the notebook back into the drawer shutting it with your hip.

“Just rang and rang,” you say, annoyingly jumping in to help her finish pouring three Jack & Cokes. The soda fizzes under your thumb, “and before you try to cover for her, this is the fourth time she’s done this.”

She lets out an exaggerated sigh, taking the cans from you and tossing them into the trash.

“Really thought this one would work out,” her long legs cross behind you to slot the liquor bottle back in its designated spot, “she had kids.. poor thing needed the cash.”

The familiar ache of neglect radiated through you, “I found a babysitter for the nights she was working, told her I’d help pay… that asshole she keeps around probably found out she was working here.”

Jolene raises her eyebrows. Her slender fingers hold the three drinks with ease, setting them on a tray.

“Can’t believe Jackie skipped town with that rich salesman,” she sighs heavily, leaning an elbow on the sticky bar, “lucky girl, something like that would never happen to me.”

Jealousy pings in your chest but you shake it off, “he was really dreamy huh? Those beauty marks? His hair? His ass?” You wolf whistle, “cut me a slice.”

You weren’t jealous that Jackie was now probably driving a BMW, that her life would be nothing but luxurious from here on out, or even that her boyfriend was movie star hot.

What made your blood boil over was the fact that she got out, and you were still stuck here like hardened gum underneath a table.

The club was a part of you. Like an unwanted birthmark, this lifestyle was something you couldn’t get away from. Understanding at a young age, when most girls were playing with dolls, just exactly the kind of life you were destined to live, and unfortunately it wasn’t outside of these four walls.

“Your time will come,” Jolene smiled, looking into a compact and wiping a smudge of lipstick from her teeth, “you’re still young, Miss Assistant.”

You rolled your eyes, placing the tray on her awaiting palm. Since Jackie was gone, her job was now yours. Tacking on added responsibilities with no pay raise in sight. You found out all too soon what a fucking joke that title of ‘assistant’ actually was.

“Told him I didn’t want it, but you know how that went.”

“I do kid,” she sighs, looking down at you, her eyes sweeping over the still pink scar in your eyebrow, “I really… oh honey, you’re gonna be a busy little bee tonight!”

You breathe heavily through your nose, dragging your hands down your face, “don’t remind me.”

“I’ll help out wherever, ‘kay?”

Jolene had taken you under her wing when you first walked into Queen of Hearts. Freshly eighteen almost down to the hour, naive waters brimming your eyes, forced into this life.

Her motherly ways comforted everyone, only thirty-three but in this industry that was practically ninety. Just like you, Jolene had deep roots in this place.

Her tall frame slinks over to the waiting guys sitting at the stage, a pleasant smile on her lips. Twirling the ends of her black hair twisted into schoolgirl pigtails, laying the charm on thick.

Staring over at her in a forlorn gaze, you hated to think of yourself still here ten years from now, a permanent fixture to this place, like Jolene. The lemons of life were squeezed and you had made the lemonade, but it was sour, bitter.. you longed for something sweeter.

The bubbly fantasy is popped when Mickey Fritz’ oversized hand hits the counter like he’s a toddler in a highchair.

“Hey sugar tits, I’m empty o’er here!”

Your nightmare reality comes back into view.

The walls at Queen of Hearts were draped in deep shades of red velour, a cozy ambiance to invite strangers and locals alike. The bar was backlit and stocked with a decent selection of polished bottles of whiskey, gin and bourbon.

His boots clapped along the wood floor as the pair walked further inside, leaving a plume of smoke in their wake, catching on the neon lights and creating a smoked crimson haze across the dark club.

The raised stage was centered, creating an aisle on either side of it, clad with leather backed red chairs surrounding it at every angle. For a night club in the middle of Indiana, it wasn’t half bad compared to the places he was used to out East.

A row of booths were tucked onto the left side of the club, high top tables stood crowded with drunk college students, yelling loudly and making asses of themselves to impress the working girls.

The music blaring over the speakers was a little cliche and too “pop” for his liking—fuck, had he really turned into one of those guys, questioning what a strip club was playing for music?

He rolls his eyes at his own false pretentiousness, turning it into a wink at a cocktail waitress carrying a tray full of plastic flutes filled with a gut rot of pink liqueur. The gold thong she was wearing sat high on her hips, matching the cheap glittery cowboy hat on her blonde curls.

Dark eyes follow her long legs to a nearby table, a fist to his mouth as he whistles and licks his chomps.

“Damn! Can you believe this used to be the Hideout?” Jeff squawked, not so casually adjusting himself as they slid into an open booth, “that was Gareth Emerson’s twin sister, she really grew up huh, remember him?”

He didn’t.

Much like anyone else Jeff had tried to bring up since he had agreed to meet up for a drink on the occasion that they were both home, he hadn’t given high school a second thought since the night he left.

“Nah, man,” he said, grabbing for the sticky menu on the black table top, “I don’t.”

It had been years since he had seen Jeff, and he was surprised that he had recognized him at the gas station last night when he was filling up his motorcycle.

His own appearance hadn’t changed much, dressed a little better, wore cologne now, normal shit that came along with getting out of puberty.

Back then Jeff still had braces, a small lisp when he got really drunk. Now, he was a grown man. Living in Phoenix with a big important job at some company, home for the weekend to visit his parents, and watch his youngest brother graduate.

There would be no visiting family or old friends for him on this trip back to Hawkins. The thought of running into anyone he knew and having that painfully awkward small talk about the ‘good old days as a Tiger!’ made him cringe, as if that ever were the case for him.

Having left this shit hole in the middle of the night seven years ago, he took nothing with him but some saved cash, his guitar, a full tank of gas and the clothes on his back.

The heavy ache in his chest, brim filled with remorse, was an added carry on, something that didn’t go away with the miles he had put between him and Hawkins.

He had planned to keep this town in the rearview, but life, probably karma, had other plans.

Back in Hawkins strictly on “business,” that's what he told Jeff when the smiley old friend grabbed him into a bear hug in the checkout line, crushing the chips he was carrying to a powder in its aluminum bag.

Technically, it was family business. But he hadn’t mentioned that to Jeff. He didn’t want the questions, didn’t want the pity.

He barely even knew his uncle that well anyway, but being the only living relative of the deceased, he didn’t have a choice when the call came through that he had passed.

A week. That was the timeframe he told his job that he’d be gone for. Leaving just enough time to plan the funeral, and sell the trailer.

Coming home to the haunting shadows of Hawkins was like playing in a graveyard filled with demons of his past. Sorrow filled every dark corner, looming around him like a fog, making him unable to forget the damage left behind.

For years it had worked out fine, he had moved on. But every now and then, he had to push his inner demons down, and still to this day, years after the fact, they kept trying to crawl back up. The shame of his past coming to the forefront.

The music changes to another upbeat song that was popular on the radio, Jeff nods along to the beat, strumming his fingers against his belly like he was playing the guitar.

He looked over at his old highschool friend and smiled for the first time since being back here, “still play?”

Jeff stretched a wide grin across his face, chuckling a little too loud, “only in my dreams… working seventy-hour weeks doesn’t really allow me to have that kinda freedom.” He nodded and smiled a little at the waitress who was coming to take their drink orders, “so what have you been up to man? It’s been years!”

He knew all too well about not having free time to spend the way he had wanted to. He didn’t even own a guitar anymore. The last time he saw his Warlock, it was sitting in a pawn shop in Nashville— the last of his many possessions sold to make ends meet.

Ordering a beer, he counts his budget for this trip in his head, deciding to buy Jeff’s drink too. Maybe being back wouldn’t be so bad after a drink or two, a little liquid courage to get him through the night at least.

The pleather seat creaks beneath his weight when he leans back further into the booth, stretching his arms out wide. Trying to gain a sliver of comfort since being home.

Working the pole to Ginger’s song of choice, Once Bitten, Twice Shy, you found it hard to get into music you could care less about. But you didn’t have time to complain.

Legs crossed and spinning upside down, bare besides a face full of makeup and a red thong, you pretended that you were anywhere else but there.

How nice it would be to not have to crawl across dirty dollar bills, teasing a faceless man with your body so that he would be eager enough to slip a twenty into your g-string.

Collecting your tips from your set, you tap them against your vanity in the dressing room, counting out loud your mind already knowing how much money will be put away after bills are paid.

The long jagged crack in your mirror served as the only looking glass you liked to look in. The warped shapes of your face looking back at you made it easier to swallow the life you were living, as if it were a fever dream, a disturbed Alice in Wonderland type reality.

In the mirror you weren’t a dancer at Queen of Hearts. You could be a nurse, a librarian, a cook in a shitty home town restaurant who went home smelling like grease instead of men’s cologne and wearing suspicious stains.

It could be easy, simple really. Bus tickets weren’t terribly expensive. Going to any city, a map in your hand and the saved coffee can of cash tucked into your purse. You could almost imagine the taste of the ocean. The thought of even stepping outside of Indiana was enough to power you for the rest of the night.

As easily as the daydream came it fluttered away when the boss stepped into the dressing room.

His eyes loomed in a dead stare, sweat pooling on his temples. The ice in his glass shifted as it melted into the whiskey. A Colombian cigar tucked into his fat mouth had an inch long ash waiting to fall.

He wasn’t much taller than you, barely older, but his attitude and small dick made him seem eight feet tall.

“The hell are you doing in here? Fucking Christ woman, the girls are drowning out there, those needle dick college fucks are about to swing fists and you’re in here staring at yourself?”

“Just takin’ a little break Tommy, I gotta change.”

“I don’t need any lip from you, better watch it before I match that other scar y’ hear me?”

His threats didn’t scare you, it was who he answered to that made you terrified. A bad report to the big boss and you’d be drinking your meals through a straw. You knew because it’s already happened. Turns out you don’t need your mouth to swing around a pole.

“Loud and clear.”

This type of life was the only one you had ever known. You quite literally grew up with this environment right under your nose, and everyone at the club knew it.

The romance novels you kept in your purse were full of knights in shining armor type of men, another fallacy to your looking glass.

The thought of anything else was only real in your daydreams. Escaping the festering wound of Hawkins was impossible, almost unheard of. No one with your background got out.

But he did.

Shoulder to shoulder, squeezing in sideways with grimy singles fisted in their hands, the club was stuffed to the hilt with sweaty, drunk, and extremely horny men.

“… here!” you slam two more drinks onto the heaping tray and shove it into Wendy’s hands, “take this to those asshats and tell them we are out of triple sec, no more Long Island Ice Teas, if they want a drink they can order beer like everyone else.”

Wendy swung her hips with the Long Islands in tow over to soften the hearts of the college boys. Batting her lashes, sitting topless on their laps and letting them tell her stories of the parties they went to, the classes they skipped and the girls they fucked. Anything to keep them from hollering and starting a fight with the locals.

Lisa Ann was working over the business men from out of town, their briefcases shining with a matte patent leather, expensive watches adorning their wrists. Her pretty Marilyn Monroe smile on display as she brought over their drinks, tussling their hair between her pink fingernails, putty at her fingertips.

Between the rest of you rotating between pouring drinks, collecting payments and trying to wiggle past the grabby hands of Donny, the roar of the busy hour had started to lull.

All of you were tired and crabby, legs cramping and toes pinched in uncomfortable shoes. Jolene wiped her brow and blew out a deep breath.

“Take fifteen,” you said to her, “I got it from here.”

She shot you a wink and disappeared into the dressing room.

Peeling the soles of your boots from the floor you lean your back against the shelf of liquor bottles. Working your hands on the base of your neck behind your head.

The usual crink that ached when you were stressed was flaring up again. Causing your shoulders to tense up and sending a pinched dull ache from your back up to your throbbing temples. Radiating your jaw, with a heat so fierce it could melt glass and it wasn’t even eleven o’ clock yet.

Your eyes are pressed closed in a tight squeeze, maybe you could shut the pain out by pretending it wasn’t there.

“Tiffs just about done in room D,” Veronica chirped, her bracelets jingling in a metallic tune, “the ‘doctor’ again,” she explains with air quotes chuckling to herself.

“He’s only here on nights she’s workin’” you say exhaustedly, “she’s his favorite.”

Being one of the few regulars that wasn’t married, he was somehow the slimiest worm in the dirt. Tall and slender framed with icy white hair, he seemed to stare down his nose at the girls, his voice an eerily calm when he asked for Tiff, handing over the crisp fifties to secure her for the allotted amount of time.

Beads click together as she stumbles in from the back, adjusting her lipstick and holding the ripped strap of her bra, followed behind her like clockwork was the doctor, tucking his oxford shirt into his slacks.

Your jaw felt like it was going to ignite, as if it were covered in tension rods and the gears were cranking it tighter and tighter, sweat beginning to form on your back, “can you hand me my purse?”

Rustling your bag from underneath the bar, Veronica hands over the canvas tote, her emerald eyes staring at you expectantly like a serpent watching its prey, “care to share those little party favors?”

Rolling your eyes, you move your hand through the contents inside. Pushing past a checkbook, lipsticks, and the papered corner of a tampon. Finally your fingers close around the smooth unlabeled bottle.

Two tablets land in your palm when you pop the cap, and you shake it begrudgingly to release another tablet from the bottle for Veronica.

She giggles and grabs two shot glasses, pouring bourbon into them both.

“Only one,” you instruct, a serious look in your eyes, “I’m not picking you up from the floor later.”

A coy little smile on her lips, she brings the shot glasses over, handing one to you, “you worry too much.”

Placing the pill in her free palm, you clink the glasses together in a little cheer.

“To us,” Veronica grins, “may our titties stay perky, our asses juicy, the boys pockets fat and our kitties not loosey.”

You roll your eyes and she laughs, her lips close around the glass the same as yours, and you swallow down the liquor, wincing at the taste.

Within fifteen minutes the temporary high coats your brain like a warm blanket, floating you to a place far away from shiny poles, 6 inch heels, and ass slaps, away from Hawkins.

Jeff listens intently as he explains a very bland and watered down version of how he left Hawkins and traveled east, working odd jobs.

Skipping the part about how he lied about his age to find work, and how he spent an entire month getting his ass kicked after dishwashing shifts at some swanky restaurant outside of Raleigh.

He explained the good stuff, how he worked part time at a tattoo shop for one of his buddies he met in Philly. His full time gig being a lead shift at a factory.

It wasn’t that impressive, he knew that, but he couldn’t make himself give a shit what anyone thought of him. For only being twenty-three, he was proud of having a paycheck every two weeks from a legit place.

The click of the waitresses shoes on the floor had Jeff looking up, thanking her for the drinks. She was dressed a little more conservative than the other waitresses had been, wearing a black mini skirt and a see-through red long sleeved top, showing off black sparkly stickers that covered her nipples.

But that wasn’t what had him taking a second look. At first glance he thought maybe it was just a note written in pen, a reminder of some sort on the top of her hand, lots of people wrote on their hands right? But when she set the drinks down, reaching past them and across the table to grab a napkin, sopping up spilled beer, he almost choked on air.

It wasn’t something written in pen, or a weird unlucky shaped birthmark. The marks on her hand were two small symbols, they had faded with time and were blown out a little on the edges.

Of course they were, because the identical marks on his hand were blurred the exact same way. Two little symbols, done on the hottest day in July. The smell of his childhood room stung his nose as he thought of that day.

A day when you were both only thirteen.

The regulars were bellied up to the bar holding an aluminum can toast to their long gone friend, hollering for you to play some David Allen Coe in a final goodbye.

Flicking through the jukebox to find “Never Even Called Me By My Name,” you were too busy to pay any attention to the toast of the deceased buddy.

Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have been completely blindsided.

“Clovie?” A disgustingly sweet saccharine voice laced between bubble gum pink lips sang out from behind you, tapping you simultaneously on the shoulder, “be a dolly and run the drinks over to table 8, would ya?”

“Why c—”

Tiff was already gone, the door to the dressing room swinging shut in a shower of White Diamond perfume before you could even spin around and tell her where she could shove those aforementioned drinks.

Outside of collecting her own tips, and pleasuring the doctor, Tiff never lifted a finger to help.

Wiping your hands on the cleanest towel you could find, your muttering goes unheard as you cross back over to the bar and grab the cracked black plastic tray set with two large overflowing mugs of draft beer.

The ground was sticky under your boots, like walking in half dried paint, sometimes you wondered if Wendy actually served a full drink to anyone.

Balancing the heavy tray on your palm and shoulder, you pray that it won’t snap before you’re able to place the drinks down.

Table 8 was occupied by a guy you had seen before but couldn’t remember from where, and a long dark curly haired woman who was facing away from you.

The smile on your face was the fakest one you could make, hoping to maybe get a good tip before Tiff could notice and take her claim.

“Alrighty,” your customer service voice sang with a false sweet sincerity, “looks like we have two Busch Lights?”

The guy you had greeted smiled eagerly, moving his elbows from the table allowing room for the frosty mugs to be placed.

Your fingers work gingerly to set the ruby colored drink napkins down first. The beer was placed carefully, his greedy fingers grabbing the handle before you could barely remove your hand from it.

The second beer started to slide on the tray, and you over corrected causing it to land with a thud on the table, sloshing the pale ale all over the table—luckily not on the woman.

So much for a tip, huh?

Apologizing quickly, you lean across the table and reach for the paper napkins. Wiping up the mess hastily you toss the wet heap onto your tray.

Turning to the woman to offer her a look that’ll hopefully get you in her good graces— well enough that maybe her husband would reconsider tipping, “I’ll go fetch a rag and come back with another beer free of charge sweetheart,” you start to smile sheepishly, “I’m so s—”

The eyes you were met with were the deepest shade of brown, struck with astonishment, crowded by a grove of thick lashes, a look of dismay etched into them.

Blinking once, twice, you couldn’t register if you were truly seeing this or hallucinating.

You hadn’t seen those eyes in years, a flash of recognition drops on your face and the perky smile fades. Heart falling to the well of your stomach, punching the air from your lungs, heat rising to the surface of your cheeks.

In an instant, you’re brought back to many years before tonight. When those eyes were younger, full of teenage angst and rebellion.

Hell must’ve froze over, pigs were without a doubt flying overhead: Eddie Munson had returned to Hawkins.

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#eddie munson #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie fan fiction #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things

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taestefully-in-luv · 6 months

Text

Our Time | JJK (Seven)

Summary: After an accident and being in a coma for three months, you finally wake. But the last nine years of your life have been completely erased. You rely on none other than your best friend, Jungkook, to help regain your memories and yourself. But what happens when the truth of your missing time starts unraveling and it isn’t all it’s made out to be?

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader (Detective!Jk x Graphic Designer!OC) side pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: crime au, fluff, heavy angst, smut, romance, darker themes, amnesia au. Best friends to ???

Word Count: 12.4k

Warnings: seriously depressing (for now) swearing, mentions of alcoholism, allusions to cheating

a/n: Hiiiiiii, long time no see!! Sorry for the delay and thank you for waiting. This story is at a depressing point (lol) so forgive me! I hope you guys can enjoy this chapter too 🥺 Well, I hope you guys enjoy and please let me know what you think! Send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat :]

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An eternity has passed since you’ve last seen Jungkook…a total of six weeks. Each day has gotten equally harder as it has gotten easier. You think it’s just your body slowly getting used to his absence but your mind is yearning. Yearning and hurting.

But there is something that’s also painful like missing your ex-husband—your best friend—and it’s the videos of your life. A life you know nothing of.

If you thought pictures were hard, videos are much harder.

But you asked for this. You asked your parents and your friends to send you old pictures and videos of times you don’t remember living.

You’re seeing pictures of you and your friends in restaurants you don’t know. Bars you don’t know. Concerts for artists you don’t know. Pictures of you in your bedroom, but it’s a bedroom you don’t know.

You have haircuts and styles you don’t know.

In the videos, you hear yourself laughing at inside jokes you don’t know. You’re using vocab and slang you don’t know. You see yourself giggling and joking around with people you. don’t. know. And you feel more like an outsider than ever. Not just to this world but to the girl you see on screen, you are an outsider to herworld.

Perhaps you’ve gotten too use to separating your different selves. And perhaps that makes it harder to unite with them.

Past you is current you but current you thinks of current you as future you.

It’s all a headache to think about.

You know they’re all you but because you’ve kept them separate, it’s somehow becoming the shackles that stops all the you’s from uniting.

And that’s what needs to happen for all of your memories to return. You have to unite 24 year old you and 33 year old you. It’s only your sanity on the line.

Now that you’ve discovered a couple of things, the only way to go from here is to intentionally spark your memories—in any way. You have to. Because you know 33 year old you has started something...

You quickly tear your eyes from the video on screen to take a quick peak towards the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You’ve visited the attic a few times because of all of the memories that are stored in there.

But those boxes are filled with more than just memories.

Your eyes go back to your phone in hand as your thumb hesitantly hovers over the screen. You know you should move on to another video but it almost feels like you don’t have it in you. You don’t have it in you to stop listening to the sound of your child’s laughter when you can’t recognize it.

You don’t have it in you to stop the possibility of triggering your brain to suddenly remember him.

You finally force your thumb to the screen and you quickly pause it. You take in a sharp breath before exiting the video to scroll through the five videos your mom sent you. You see Haru in all five. And you can see Jungkook in three of them. You chose one where you couldn’t see Jungkook.

But this video of Haru’s giggles feels just as heartbreaking but more than anything, it feels frustrating. Because you don’t know him.

And that feels like an unbearable heartache on its own.

Suddenly, your eyes bounce from the video thumbnails to the text your mom just sent you.

Mom 7:28am

Good morning! We’re our way to the station and should arrive in Seoul around 2pm. You’re still picking us up, right?

You slowly close your already drooping eyes, the moment way too brief before you open them again, glancing towards the living room windows where the obvious sunlight comes through. Another night you didn’t sleep. Your eyes battling your brain. You might get a few hours if you try to sleep now, at the least.

“I just don’t understand how you can drink those all day,” Your mother’s eyes go from the knife in her hand to the iced coffee in yours. “I know it’s got to be giving you heartburn.” She laughs a little while shaking her head, eyes going back down to the cutting board where she chops onions.

You blink at your mom before dropping your eyes to the coffee in your hand, “Wait, is this why?”

She chuckles again, “Must be from your dads side of the family.” She shrugs now, letting the onions slide off the board and into a pan.

You roll your eyes at your moms playful comment before sliding the coffee away from you as you sit at your kitchen island, “Anyway, dad’s kind of taking a while, no?” You glance around the kitchen as if he would suddenly appear here.

Your mom smiles to herself while her hands remain busy with cooking dinner, “Yeah, he’s waiting for me to text him saying he can come back from the store.”

You can’t help but snort since you know exactly what she means.

Back when you were a teenager and going through life’s woes that made the whole world feel like it was ending, you would have your meltdowns. Period cramps that made you moody, a friend talking behind your back, the boy you liked was seen kissing someone else. All the things your dad left your mom to handle. He would suddenly want to go to the store and she would somehow signal him when it was safe to return—after the two of you got to talk out whatever was bothering you.

You realize she’s done it now.

“You never used to take this long to tell me what was going on though.” Your mom says quietly, eyes trained on the stove. “Especially not about Jungkook.” She sighs as she reaches for the wooden spoon before stirring the ingredients.

You feel something sharp inside your chest, just at the mention of his name, like there’s a sharp knife.

You turn your face to the side, something uncomfortable and electric tightens your jaw. As if it’s a burning signal that even the mere mention of Jungkook, makes you want to cry. But you won’t. “Well, mom.” You take a deep breath before looking towards her again with a sarcastic smile. “Our marriage wasn’t exactly as perfect as you thought.”

You hope this is enough for her to realize that Haru’s disappearance wasn’t the wedge that created such distance between you and your now, ex-husband.

You stare at the back of your mom’s head as she stands at the stove, still cooking. You wonder if she’s in utter shock at the revelation that perhaps Jungkook isn’t perfect. And your marriage definitely wasn’t. You wait and wait. But you see how she starts adding in a few other things.

“I said—”

“—What marriage is perfect?” Your mom finally turns around, cutting you off with a raised brow. “I never thought that. I’ll never think that. About anyone.” She scoffs before turning towards the stove again. “I told you that you didn’t usually take this long to talk about Jungkook with me.”

You don’t say anything.

Your mom turns her head towards you for a moment, you see the corner of her lip barely start to lift, like a knowing smile wants to form but her frown decides not to budge, “You were married to him for years…you don’t think you’ve come to complain to me?”

You understand her almost smirk now. She faces forward towards the stove again.

“Maybe around six months before Haru’s…incident. You came to Busan and I could tell something was up and you needed to talk.” Your mom rests a hand on her hip, while the other reaches for the stove knob as she turns it down. “But just like now…” She turns her head to eye you again, her worries pulling her lips into a deeper frown. “You took a while to tell me.”

You don’t really react. Not as your brain processes this information.

Your mom continues, “So I know your marriage wasn’t perfect. Jungkook’s not perfect. You’re not perfect.” She exhales through her nose in a half laugh. “I’m not perfect. Your father’s not either. But what’s between us…it has to be protected.”

“Unless that person betrays you.” You say in a low voice, eyes going to your fingers as you pick at your cuticles. “And you lose your trust in them.”

You hear your mom at the stove again as she turns it off and puts the lid on the pan. After a moment you see your mother in your peripherals as she comes to the other side of the counter and sits next to you.

“You mentioned something similar back then.” She says quietly, her face looking ahead. “But then I thought…well, that you thought it wasn’t what you thought.”

You quickly turn your head in your moms direction, eyes on hers. What all did you say to her? “Well, it was.” You say firmly.

Your mom’s eyebrows pull together slowly, something similar to confliction rising in her eyes. “And how exactly did Jungkook betray you?” She asks after a moment.

And it feels pathetic, the feeling of all the muscles in your face betraying your collected appearance. So pathetic that the answer to this question makes your expression twist and break off the cracking mask that is now crumbling and falling from your face.

It takes less than an instant for your heartbreak to be written all over.

Your mom puts a hand to your back, letting you cry it out.

Just like you did when you were a moody teenager and the only one who understood your meltdowns was your mom. She lets you know that once again, that no matter how small or how big—you had every right to feel the way you wanted to.

You cry, a soft pat repeating on your back as you mumble how sad you are and how embarrassing this is.

This short cry feels more like relief in the right company rather than something that is rocking your world in the worst way.

Your mom chuckles a little, pulling away from you. “Embarrassing?”

“Yeah.” You nod with a shameless smile and damp cheeks. “I know you know the me that’s been married to him for years but in my eyes we’ve been on one date and he was our neighbor. So I feel like you should be teasing me about us but you’re here with more knowledge about my marriage than me.” You laugh as you cry more, “So it’s a bit embarrassing.”

“Hm,” Your mom chuckles again, “I guess I can understand that.”

You nod while your fingers wipe beneath your eyes repeatedly, they’re only teary now.

Your mom brings her hand away from you, her fingers intertwining on top of the counter. You watch as she stares down at her hands in thought before she finally sighs and turns your way with a small smile. “Talk to me, y/n. You’re convinced Jungkook betrayed you in some way—ways I can only assume—but tell me, do you really think he’s capable of what you’re thinking?”

You study your mother’s expression for a long moment, brows beginning to furrow when you realize she doesn’t buy it. Tearing your eyes away from her, your lips twist in annoyance, “Are you saying I shouldn’t believe in my own memories?”

You hear your mom sigh again, “You remembered something unpleasant, y/n. I’m not saying I don’t believe you…but even back then,” She pauses, hoping you will look at her but you don’t. She finally continues, “Things just didn’t add up…”

You’re quick to find her eye again, “What all did I tell you?”

At this, your mother scoffs lightly, her small smile still on her lips. “Nothing that really made sense. Seemed like you just…couldn’t tell me things. But I’m not dumb, you know? You drop plenty of hints when you get talking.”

“Oh.” You blink at her, wishing you could even remember whatever hints she’s referring to.

“But the issue is that you stopped talking. You got quiet.” Your mother looks back at her hands again, her gaze hardening. “Then when Haru’s incident happened…you shut us all out. Everyone…” She whispers, lines between her brows forming, a hint of disappointment in her voice that doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “Even Jungkook.”

You can’t help but feel that same knife start slicing open the inside of your chest at the mention of his name again. “Probably because it’s his fau—”

“—He lost Haru too, y/n.” Your mom cuts you off, her eyes that are filled with something close to anger land on you. “You both did and what’s worse is that you both lost one another in the process.”

“I don’t remember the process but I’m sure I had a hard time even looking him in the eye.” You spit out. “You don’t know what happ—”

“—Do you?” She throws back at you. “Because you have yet to give me a story that makes even a little sense.”

Your heart starts screaming like someone just squeezed it way too hard. You force yourself to look away because tears that no one invited start to form. You feel done with this conversation but before you can announce its over, your mom sighs again and her palm rests against your back and you don’t have it in you to shove her off.

“I’m sorry.” She mutters softly, almost sounding regretful. “I am. You have no idea…” You feel her hand slowly retreat from your back, “How sometimes I would just pray you wouldn’t get your memories back. So you wouldn’t…”

Your mother’s voice grows much softer, almost too quiet to hear.

“Seeing you heartbroken all over again hurts us, y/n. I thought it would be easier…for you. But I guess it’s just easier for us.” She admits, a sharpness in her tone that indicates her regret. “There’s no way you would live happier if parts of you felt missing.”

You feel her words stick to your skin uncomfortably, like sweat from the hot sun rather than a run you worked for. It’s unpleasant but also unwelcomed.

Unwelcomed because you don’t want to accept a life where that could be the case—forced to live a life even with parts of you missing.

An uncomfortable reality and possibility.

“More than…” You begin, hands lifting to gesture towards nothing. “This is more than just Jungkook.”

Your mom chuckles to herself. “Of course I know that.”

“I’m starting to wonder what would feel worse,” You glance towards your empty hands before your fingers clutch nothing softly. “Remembering my child. Or not remembering my child.” Then your lips curl into a half smile that feels so empty as you silently cringe toward yourself, “It doesn’t even feel right saying ‘my’…” you immediately halt, teeth suddenly piercing into your bottom lip. You don’t even feel right calling Haru ‘your’ child. Because you don’t feel like his mother.

You try to keep the half smile plastered on your face but the sharp shock of tears that fill your eyes betray your wants. You quickly blink them away.

“I want to hate Jungkook so bad for so many reasons,” You admit before clearing your throat, “But I mostly hate him because at least he would recognize our sons laugh while I don’t. I hate him because I blame him but at least he knows the kid that I hate him for.”

Also an uncomfortable reality.

“Well,” Your mothers tone lets you know she’s about to change the subject. “You had a doctor’s appointment recently, right? How did it go?”

You shake your head, “He said the progress can be really slow…and that it’s normal for the brain to block out certain traumatic events. So much…” You pause.

“So much what?”

You sigh, “So much doesn’t make sense. It has me feeling so restless.”

“I’m sorry.” Your mom releases a shaky breathy before you hear her voice crack. “I’m so sorry.”

“You know what’s the worst part?” You decide to keep the venting session going. “I just feel ashamed. I’m a parent but I don’t even know about it. I feel so lost. I don’t think if I was given a child I could—”

“This doesn’t make you less of a mother, y/n.” Your mom snaps her eyes in your direction, a fierceness in them. “You are still a parent. A damn good one at that.”

You study your mother’s expression with a fondness, because you see her sincerity. This makes your eyes sting again. “Thanks, mom.”

After a nice weekend with your parent’s, you decide you’ve been resting enough. You want to start working again, having too much time on your hands seems like a problem nowadays. You find yourself back at that new café.

“I’ll take a honey lavender latte.” You tell the girl at the counter, her eyes immediately widening before she nods her head in approval.

“Great choice. A personal fav.” She grins before continuing, “And I make it the best.”

A new voice joins in from behind, startling you. “Make that two.” A man says. You quickly turn around, eyes rising towards the same man you spilled coffee on. “Oh, it’s you.”

He brings a hand to his heart, “I’m a you? That means you remember me!” He smiles at you, shaking his dark hair from his eyes.

You bite your lip, guilt sinking in from the last time. “Well, I thought you were gonna press charges for burning you last time. So, I guess I would remember.”

He looks taken aback, his eyes going round. “Press charges?” Then he laughs, “No, no. I wouldn’t do that, who wants to deal with cops, anyway?”

“Just the two lattes?” The girl at the counter speaks up in a sing song voice and you immediately spin in your spot to apologize to her but the man beats you to it while he pulls out his wallet.

“Should we get a cookie too?” He asks you, his head tilting a little and you start shaking your head. “You sure?” He smiles.

You’re the one taken aback. This guy is too kind. You wonder if he’s like this with everyone.

“Seokjin, you are going to buy us out again.” The girl sighs as she smiles before glancing at you. “He ordered us all out just yesterday.”

“It was for the elderly! You know they get a little cranky if they don’t get something a little sweet to eat! Hasn’t it brought more customers? You could say thank you.” He gets playfully defensive, pout on his lips and the girl gives a shrug while nodding. “Well, it does make my boss happy. And if he’s happy,” She leans over the counter and whispers. “It’s a better day for everyone.” Then she giggles.

“See!” Seokjin crosses his arms like he’s still offended. “I’m just trying to help you all have a better day!”

You guess he is this nice to everyone.

And before you know it, he’s taking out his card and paying for the drinks. You realize it but it’s too late.

“You didn’t have to pay for that…” You mumble, hand paused on your own wallet. “But thank you.”

“Hopefully you’ll have an even better day too.” He smiles at you and it feels warm.

You take a moment to get a good look at him and you realize just how handsome he is. You remember his chest and broad shoulders from last time but now you see just how full and plump his lips are but you also like his brown eyes.

He smiles at you again.

You’re staring.

“See you around, I guess.” Seokjin puts his wallet back into his back pocket before walking off towards a table near a window.

You know his name but he doesn’t know yours and that feels a little bit like a shame.

But there’s no time for harmless nice guys giving you warm smiles. You’re here to work. Or actually here to retrain yourself on how to do your work.

Your job agreed to help you relearn everything so today, you’re going to sit at a table and get trained. And the girl you knew from college that works at your job will be in contact with you if you have any questions. Mijoo. Apparently you two were a bit acquainted before you started working from home.

When you find a table near the bookshelves, you get to work. There’s updates on old programs you were familiar with but there’s new ones too. Plus, the market is a bit different. It’s a lot to learn but you think you’ll get the hang of it quickly. Just like you did back in the day when you were just starting out.

Two hours or more has passed and you’re buried in your work. But you see a man in your peripherals and a cookie wrapped in parchment paper suddenly on the table right next to your laptop.

You look up and Seokjin gives you that same warm smile before it turns sheepish. “I ended up ordering two for myself a little while ago but I’m too full. You can have it. Well…well, only if you want it, of course.”

You blink up at him before you look at the cookie.

“It’s okay, if you don’t!”

Your eyes go to him again and you shake your head before you give him your own smile. “No, no!” You tell him quickly, “I-I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“Oh.” His lips form the perfect ‘o’ and he gives you a nod. “Nice. See ya.” And he’s smiling again before walking out of the café.

His entire aura is warm and you realize you appreciate people like him even more now. With how cold life has been.

After a long day of sitting at the café, you’re now sitting on the floor of your dusty attic. It’s gotten easy to figure out which boxes were stored here by your own hands and which boxes are the ones that Jungkook packed up to avoid you seeing your life. It’s mostly obvious because Jungkook’s packing is much more organized than yours.

You wonder if this box of framed photos in front of you is so neat because he looked at each one slowly, taking his time as he looked at the memories he knew you wouldn’t remember.

You wonder if he took his time because he misses Haru.

And because he missed you.

You manage to conceal a bitter scoff as you lift your foot and push it flat against the box, forcing it back a few inches. Your concern isn’t Jungkook right now. Stop thinking about him. Stop looking at your photos with him. Stop looking at the life you lived with him.

Right now those are your priority.

A strained sigh leaves your mouth as you eye the boxes you’ve dragged to the other side of the attic. You’ve been trying to organize everything in here so you know what’s what. Eyes slide to the left where all your household memories are. Then they slowly drag across the attic, passing by an old, dusty desk to the right side where your personal mystery boxes are.

It’s taken a few days to really separate everything. Because this attic has more than just some boxes of memories and boxes of mysteries. It also has a few too many creepy crawlers hanging in the corners. And things you’re sure 33 year old you wanted to sell and get rid of.

Buzz.

Your eyes suddenly shoot down to your phone when it lights up and vibrates the attic floor, already seeing that it’s another message from Misuk in the group chat with her and Subin.

Last you checked they were gushing over a new song from an artist they like who you barely even know so you don’t rush to really look. Your eyes stay on the screen until the light dims and it goes black.

You’d be lying if you said you wish you didn’t have help. Someone to guide you to some answers.

Another strained sigh before a half assed chuckle barely rumbles in your chest.

Well, ‘someone’ could guide you to some answers. And that someone is 33 year old you but unfortunately you don’t understand majority of what you’ve found. As if only parts of the puzzle are in these boxes, just edges and corner pieces and you’re missing all the pieces that fill everything in.

Your eyes still linger on the black screen as they begin to lose focus as your mind whirls into your endless list of questions again. The boxes of mysteries are only three boxes. One of them having nothing to do with your son, you think. But the other two have caused some concern.

Something tells you that 33 year old you is really not convinced that your son is dead.

It’s clear you were investigating on your own. But your notes barely make sense. And it is more than fucking frustrating.

You’re about to close your eyes and groan but your phone suddenly lights up again as you feel a slight vibration next to your foot. It’s another text but it doesn’t look like its apart of the group chat.

You squint at the screen but it’s too far to really read anything so you finally give in and reach for the device and bring it closer to your face. And then you feel the sudden thump in your lower belly where your heart just landed.

Jungkook 9:19pm

How are you doing?

A razor sharp sting tightens every muscle in your body, the sudden tension making your breaths stop.

More than a month and a half since you’ve last seen and spoken to him and he’s finally said something to you.

Finally because as much as you hate him, his existence makes you breathe. And you have to breathe to live.

Buzz.

Your hand vibrates along with your phone and you suddenly clench your fingers around it.

Jungkook 9:19pm

I wanted to tell you how sorry I am.

Your heart suddenly leaps up into your throat, choking you a bit as you try to breathe. Is that a confession? It already bothers you that he barely tried to explain himself and now he’s been silent all this time. And now he’s apologizing? He’s guilty, isn’t—

Buzz.

Jungkook 9:20pm

I just wish you would talk to me y/n…

That concealed scoff from earlier has finally broken free, pushing past your lips in something like disgust. Talk to him? Talk to him? You feel an uncomfortable anger start poking your skin from the inside and you squeeze your phone harder in you hand. The fucking audacity.

There’s a brief moment when you consider chucking your phone across the attic but fortunately you only slam it to the floor. Frustration still hot on your skin, you quickly reach for a worn out decorative pillow and hurl it in front of you with a lot of strength, knocking against the old desk as it wobbles for a moment.

You release a short puff of air, head lowering and eyes closing as you try to calm yourself. You’ll admit, it did feel kind of good to release some en—

Thump.

Your eyes snap open as you tilt your head up towards the desk where the sudden sound just came. Did something fall inside? But what? You had checked the desk before. The top drawer only had a few pens and some sticky notes while the bottom drawer was empty minus some loose sheets of printer paper. And the left side of the desk is just two empty book shelves. It is basically empty.

It was probably nothing.

You’re about to move on, mind already wanting to go back to Jungkook when the sudden thump just can’t make sense. Something with some weight definitely fell in or on the desk, right? But you’re sure there’s nothing from when you checked the other week.

Doesn’t hurt to look again, you decide. Maybe this is your intuition talking to you.

You finally lift yourself from the attic floor, giving one last look at the boxes that are filled with your life with Jungkook and Haru before heading towards the middle where the desk is. It’s got an impressive layer of dust that you haven’t found any real reason to clean since the desk isn’t something you’d visit often.

Giving in, you reach for the top drawer and open it, just like you had the other week, but just like last time, the drawer only has three pens, some used sticky notes with doodles and numbers lying around and one black marker.

You knew there was nothing. Shutting the drawer, you quickly open the bottom drawer. It’s a deeper space, like you could fit a small filing cabinet. But instead, there’s only a few loose sheets of blank printer paper.

Not convinced, you shove your hand inside the drawer, feeling around for anything strange and even trying to reach behind but you’re met with nothing. Okay. You step away from the desk for a moment, eyeing it suspiciously because you’re certain something with more weight than any of those things fell. And fell here.

There’s nothing else here besides this raggedy pillow. You glance down at it, the pathetic thing on the floor before you groan, kicking it away from you.

So what? You just imagine all kinds of things now? Is that the new normal?

Suddenly not minding the thick layer of dust, you lean forward in defeat, hands gripping the edge of the desk as you support some of your weight onto it but the desk wobbles forward on its probably broken, unsteady legs. And you know you don’t imagine it when something with some weight definitely shifts inside.

“Uh, what was that…?” You mumble to yourself, eyebrows coming together slowly as you take another look at the desk. Your eyes immediately fall to the left side where the two empty shelves are. It definitely came from this side.

You quickly squat down, eyes trained on the shelves, inspecting every single inch of the empty and terribly dusty space. “Don’t tell me…” You whisper, expression highly focused as you look at the back panel of the shelves. The shelving space is not nearly as deep as of the width of the desk.

You blink at it, breaths now falling from your lips faster as your fingers quickly go to touch the backing panel and when it wiggles freely with enough pressure, you know you’ve found something. Feeling impatient, you jostle the thin wood around until you can figure out how to remove it.

And when it starts poking through the side of the shelf, your heart starts racing while you quickly slide the panel through the wooden desk. You feel it. Maybe it’s instinct because somewhere in your brain you know this is familiar and means something. The panel drops to the floor once its slid out but before it even touches, your hands are already digging inside.

“Okay, okay, okay.” You repeat with shaky breaths. Fingers already grasping what’s here and you feel yourself growing more and more anxious. A shoe box. An open shoe box that’s close to overflowing. You pull it out while you sit down onto the floor, the box settling right in front of you.

“Okay,” You sigh, reaching for the first item on top. It’s a small note book, the kind you’d use to make a check list of sorts. You take a deep breath before flipping it open and a few loose contents fall out. And then you feel the breath of a ghost at the base of your neck.

You pick up a folded sheet of paper along with a bent photo of Nabi. You feel the cold breath travel down your spine as you unfold the paper and read what’s written in someone else’s handwriting.

Yun Nabi

118, Seolleungro-150, Yongsan-gu, Seoul

010-6203-3087

010 3476 9876àweekends

010 9874 3456 new ##

You stare down at the worn paper, confusion clouding your mind. You want to rip her photo to shreds.

You quickly glance to the bent photo in your other hand and before you tell your hand what to do, it’s already crumbling it. Your dark gaze set on the now wrinkled woman who managed to gain Jungkook’s attention.

Maybe it’s not her fault if she’s great.

Maybe it’s your fault.

Your eyes stay trained on the crumbled photo but they’ve lost focus once again. Soon the balled up picture and the folded note fall to your lap as Numbness hugs you over your shoulders and as Insecurity sits next to you and whispers into your ear.

Why did Jungkook cheat on you?

You manage to blink but your throat feels dry.

Why did he do that to you? Why would anyone…?

You want to laugh at yourself. Because you know if this happened to anyone else you would know it wasn’t their fault. The person who cheated…it’s about them and no one else. And you want to tell yourself this, remind yourself, confirm that this isn’t your fault.

But why do you sit here, letting Numbness hug you tighter? And why do you sit here and wonder?

You wonder…you wonder where you went wrong that you were no longer enough for him.

And it doesn’t feel fair that you’re wondering that.

You take the photograph and crumple it even more before throwing it to the side and decide to open the notebook. And you see more puzzle pieces.

Routine

7 he wakes up….sometimes 8

Jungkook takes him to work sometimes for fun

Someone at work?? Who? Another list

Daycare usually Mondays & Thursdays for sure

Busiest days at work

You flip the page

Thursday the 14th, at the bus station,

The 18th when I was going home

There was a car parked outside on the street for 3 days

The 5th

The 8th

The 12th I ran into someone who knew me but I didn’t know them

A man with buzzed hair

Something hot bubbles inside your chest and it feels like it’s burning you. Anxiety has a touch of fire. You flip to the next page.

It just scribbles like you were frustrated.

Just like you are now.

You decide to close to the notebook. Discomfort swallowing you like a dry pill.

But you don’t stop looking through the box. Pictures of people you don’t know. More lists of times and dates. But no context. More frustration building.

Your head snaps up suddenly when you recall something falling so you quickly reach inside the secretive hole in the desk and feel around. Your fingers grasp at nothing until something cold is felt. You can tell what it is immediately as you wrap your fingers around the device. A phone.

You take the cold, shiny device in your clammy hands and rush to turn it on but it’s got a dead battery. You turn the phone upside down to check what kind of charger it takes and remember that downstairs in the kitchen there’s a drawer of random charging cables.

You need to get this thing turned on. Now.

“Are you okay?” You immediately straighten your back, phone dropping to the attic floor, the sudden voice a shock since you live alone. You quickly look around you, eyes darting from place to place but of course, there’s no one here. You feel sick. Especially because…didn’t that voice sound like—

“Are you okay?” Jungkook comes next to you, his eyes avoiding yours but he can’t hide the concern in his voice. You look at him, equally annoyed as he is. But still, you hear in his voice he doesn’t totally hate you.

“It’s fine.” You mumble, fingers picking at the bandage wrapped around your palm. “It just got scraped.”

Jungkook chuckles humorlessly, “Misuk said Subin threw up in her mouth because of the blood.”

You shrug, “Okay, it was pretty bad.”

Jungkook stays silent and the same tension that’s been building since Sana’s wedding is here again. You, Jungkook, Misuk and Subin came to Busan for the weekend to celebrate your mom’s birthday but today, the day of the party, has been anything but fun. One thing after the other, but the cherry on top was around 20 minutes ago when you accidentally sliced your palm open while helping in the kitchen.

Now you’re outside trying to cool off but the last person you want to see has come to check on you.

“Does it hurt?” Jungkook stares up at the tree you two are standing in front of outside your house. He doesn’t bother to try and soften his tone. Sure, it’s concerned but it’s also irritated.

“I told you it’s fine.” You answer, sounding clipped. “Just go back inside.”

“You’re mad at me if I’m inside. You’re mad at me if I’m outside.” He stuffs his hands in his front jean pockets and continues gazing at the tall tree. “I really don’t understand why you’re so up—”

“—Oh? You don’t?” You turn your head to glare at him, “Really?”

You watch Jungkook’s profile, his jaw tightening for a moment before he sighs out.

“I don’t know.” He tells you before turning to face you as well. Your eyes are narrowed but he sees plenty of disappointment in them. “Maybe I do. But I also seriously don’t.”

You look down to the ground, a moment of consideration because you kind of understand him. But then you recall last night and realize that no, he definitely should understand why you’re mad.

Things have changed between you two. Ever since Sana’s wedding, there’s been something different and enticing. Moments that feel way too charged to be platonic. But neither of you have spoken up about it. Maybe he’s afraid you don’t feel it. Or maybe you’re now just realizing you’re afraid he is the one who doesn’t feel it.

Because how doesn’t he understand that having his last serious girlfriend from Busan in your parents living room while they flirt with one another relentlessly in front of you, is not going to make you mad?

“You don’t think flirting with your ex-girlfriend in front of me wasn’t going to make me mad, Jungkook?” You throw the words at him without much care for his reaction. It’s an honest question, in your book.

“Okay,” Jungkook tilts his head back before running his hands through his hair, “So this is about Hanja.” He groans a little before giving in and taking a step closer to you. “I didn’t think it was a big deal…and you call her my ex girl-friend as if she doesn’t have a name. Hanja told me she had a lot of classes with you in High School!”

“And?” You deadpan. “Doesn’t make us friends.”

“Okay.” He nods but now he’s the one with disappointment in his eyes. “But that doesn’t mean you had to be rude.”

“You invited her to my mom’s birthday party!” You throw back, “And have barely even…” It sucks that your voice gets a little softer because you just want to make a point. “You’ve barely even looked at me since she’s been here.”

Jungkook’s lips part and he looks conflicted as he registers your words but you don’t wait for him to get it before you continue.

“Sure,” You manage a stubborn shrug, “Maybe you’re not flirting with her but you don’t stop her when she does with you.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow, “She hasn’t flirted with me, y/n.” He tries to assure you, his tone finally not irritated but instead the same soft as yours. “We just have history, you know? But that was what? 5 years ago? 6? 7? I don’t even know. We ended on good terms so I thought it was harmless. She’s in town too and had nothing to do…I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“I just…” You finally meet his eye for the first time more willingly, “I don’t know.”

He finally relaxes his features and a pleasantly pleased smile starts tugging at the corner of his lips, “You’re…jealous.” He confirms softly.

You raise a brow at him, feeling annoyed. “So then you do understand why I’m mad.”

“Yeah.” He agrees but you see the uncertainty in his eyes. “But I wasn’t sure. Maybe hoping but I couldn’t be sure, you know?”

“Did you want me to be jealous?” You ask, unsure how that makes you feel but you see genuine and quiet panic all over his face while he shakes his head.

“No, no.” He tells you with big eyes. “But when I realized you were mad at me, I thought it could be because you were jealous. And,” He pauses, swallowing what you think is nerves. “That’s why I became hopeful, I guess.”

“And why is that?” A cool breeze suddenly picks up and it feels nice against your cheeks.

“Because it might mean…” His words grow quieter, seeking your understanding of where he was going. “But without being direct…well, I can’t really be sure, you know?”

“Then why can’t we be direct?” You gesture between your bodies, “I like you, Jungkook.” It doesn’t take a lot of effort to say it, to admit it, but it does take a lot of effort to not tear your eyes away from him in embarrassment. But your gaze remains on his.

“And there’s no way I’m imagining—”

“—You aren’t!” Jungkook panics, his fingers flying to your wrists, holding on to them as he persuades your eyes to remain on his again. “You aren’t imagining it. I know it, too.” He tells you but he looks and sounds conflicted.

“For months, Jungkook.” You say quietly, “I’ve been wondering for months if you’re going to make a real move on me.”

He can’t help but smile at you nervously, his clammy fingers still pressing into your wrists. “I just…” Jungkook’s smile begins dropping as he explains himself, “…I’m so afraid of talking about this because it might change our friendship and you’re just,” He pauses, eyes searching yours because he needs to see if you understand. “You’re too important, y/n.”

“You’d rather never tell me how you feel because it might change our friendship?” You ask him, ignoring the fire burning along the edges of your skin. “You would rather spend forever just wondering if I feel the same as you? Just like I’ve been wondering if you feel the same as me? Too afraid to talk about it because it…might change our friendship?”

Jungkook’s fingers finally disconnect from your skin and into his hair, his nerves only multiplying but he finds the courage to say, “If you didn’t feel the same, things would change.”

“If I didn’t feel the same then things wouldn’t have changed in the first place. Jungkook, things have already changed. And I don’t like wondering. We’re already past platonic so I’ll tell you—”

Suddenly, your head starts pounding.

A new memory unlocked.

And it only makes you sit on your attic floor and cry.

Great timing.

Your fingers feel frozen, maybe even numb as you dig through another random kitchen drawer to find the correct charger for the phone you’ve found. So far you haven’t been lucky. Then again, nothing feels lucky. You’ve been quiet to yourself all day after last night. Not even a thought out loud.

Your eyes grow watery again but you immediately slam your lids shut, squeezing tightly because you refuse to shed anymore tears. You might have to buy a new charger but you really aren’t in the mood to leave the house. You aren’t in the mood for anything except maybe hurling more old, worn out, decorative pillows at dusty furniture. But now you feel afraid for what you might find. The more mysteries you unlock, you’re afraid to unlock a memory along with it.

It's evening now, the kitchen clock says 6:13pm. The day has gone by. You watched the sun rise this morning and now you’re witnessing it set. You have yet to find it in you to sleep today. Maybe you’re afraid you’ll slip into your bed that you once shared with Jungkook and suddenly you’ll remember all the times you’ve slept in it with him. You can’t afford any more of that. Just yesterday you were begging 33 year old you to share some of the life you’ve missed and now that she is sharing some of the years…you’re realizing you aren’t ready.

You take a deep breath, shutting a drawer shut when you decide to order a new charging cable for the phone. Your eyes slide to the device that rests peacefully on the counter while your heart beats uncomfortably in your throat. You stare at it, wondering what contents lie inside but a part of you feels fearful of what you might find.

Taking another breath, you wrap your arms around yourself, hugging yourself for a moment before you decide to take care of this. Sitting yourself at the kitchen island, opening your laptop, you search the phone and get the cable ordered for delivery tomorrow. This is better than driving yourself nuts trying to find it.

You close your eyes, resting your head down to the counter, wishing you could turn your day around.

Ding Dong.

Your eyes snap open.

And something unsettling starts whirling in your belly. As if you can sense who is at your door.

Knock Knock Knock.

You groan quietly to yourself because you just know. You know exactly who it is for some insane reason. You just feel it. You stand from the stool and walk yourself to your front door. Swinging it open without even peeping through the hole to confirm your suspicions.

Jungkook’s doesn’t look too good. For as handsome as he is, he looks rough. His skin is dry, his lips are pale and the bags under his eyes give away how much sleep he isn’t getting. You don’t care though. Not about him. Your fingers grip around the door frame tighter, your skin burning at the sight.

“I just wanted to see how you were.” He tells you, voice so quiet you had to read his lips. You want to scoff bitterly in his face, shut him out and make him feel thrown away.

But your foot pushes the front door further open as you turn around to go into the living room. You’ve invited him in. Though, ‘invited’ feels like a strong word.

You can hear the door creak open even furth from behind you, shoes are shuffling onto the floor and the door clicks shut. You hold your breath as you walk to the sofa, sitting yourself down at the very end of it as your eyes glue themselves to the black screen of the TV.

Jungkook follows your lead and sits at the other end of the couch. In your peripherals, he looks like a big, black scribble of a thousand swirling lines and you don’t have it in you to focus your eyes on him and let him appear as Jungkook. As a person. So, you keep your eyes on the TV.

Nothing is said between you both for a long while, all your senses are heightened though as you anticipate his next words to you. The hairs on your arms rise when the click of the AC goes off as it turns on. You wonder if his next words have to do with apologizing about cheating on you. Apologize to you that you just couldn’t be enough. Apologize to you for losing your son.

Your head slightly tilts in the direction of the kitchen when you notice the soft drip drops of water from the faucet. The distant bark from a small dog. Jungkook’s fingernails scratching his forearm. Every noise is going off in your ears, haunting you, taunting you and driving you insane.

You only want to hear his voice.

“Why are you here?” You finally break the noisy silence.

“To see you.” He says, voice quiet and afraid. “You’re doing better than me, huh?”

Your palms are flat against the couch cushion before you slowly curl your fingers, grabbing nothing of the material at his words. “Do you really think you get to say that to me?”

“This isn’t fair for either of us, y/n.” Jungkook has the audacity to keep speaking. “You just don’t understand.”

You twist your head to eye him, your jaw tight as you watch him sit on the sofa, eyes cowering away from yours. “You’ll stop talking now.” You tell him as your voice becomes quiet and afraid as well. You’re livid but you speak like you’re hurt.

“Then…” Jungkook pauses, his eyes going all around the living room now before he sighs. “Then I’ll just listen.”

You push your head back in disbelief, “I didn’t ask you to come here so I can talk to you. In fact, I didn’t ask you to come here at all.”

He finally turns his head toward you, his eyes are red and watery and you hate that you hate seeing him on the verge of tears. You watch his throat as you pay attention to the hard way he swallows. “I know. But I had to see you.”

Suddenly, your head starts pounding, a harsh banging from inside your forehead. You quickly let your head fall into your hands when those words keep repeating inside your mind. I know. But I had to see you. I know. But I had to see you. I know. But I had to see you.

You groan into your hands. The pain erupting on all sides of your head. The words repeating over and over, making your ears feel like they’re bleeding. I know. But I had to see you.

“y/n?” You hear Jungkook’s quiet and afraid voice.

I know. But I had to see you.

“I thought you didn’t want to see me…” Jungkook’s eyes are blood shot. You know he’s been drinking again.

“I know.” You mutter, “But I had to see you.”

“Oh.” He stumbles backward, his hand widening his front door to his new, shitty apartment. You feel anger bubbling, because you know he’s drunk. You’re doing everything in your power to keep it together and he’s wasting his time drinking.

“You’ve shut out Jimin.” You tell him, cutting to the chase. “So you don’t know anything, do you?”

“W-What’s there to know? I don’t need them anymore. Also, I was fucking fired.”

You snap your eyes to his as he still stands at his open doorway. “You’re pissing me off, Jungkook.”

“I can do this on my—”

“—They’re closing the case.” You say. “They’re saying he’s…that he’s…” You pause, throat growing drier. “You know.”

“I don’t know.” Jungkook drunkenly shrugs, slamming the door shut, making you flinch. “They’re all wrong, anyway.”

You feel your shoulders growing tenser, your lips in a hard, thin line before they die into a frown. “They’re saying we should hold a funeral.”

Jungkook’s body goes still, his hanging arms at his sides suddenly rise to his face when he rubs his temples. “Excuse me?”

“They want to—”

“Just stop!” He suddenly cries out, voice shrill. You see his eyes growing redder and redder as tears fill them up. “None of you know what you-you’re talking about. Just shut up, all of you!”

You flinch.

Jungkook’s fingers go into his hair when he starts pulling on the strands. “This just isn’t right.” He keeps muttering to himself, “I got this. I got this. I got this.” He starts pacing back and forth in front of his coffee table. “Just stop. Stop talking.”

You stand in silence.

“I said stop talking!”

You watch him unravel.

“Jung—”

Glass breaks across the coffee table. A shattered soju bottle that he’s thrown.

You flinch again.

You take a step back.

Jungkook falls to the floor, crying and yelling at no one. The loss of your son is much worse than you could have imagined. But you knew telling Jungkook about the funeral was going to cause something more serious to unravel. But you didn’t imagine this.

“y/n?” Jungkook voice sounds sober now. “y/n?”

Your head is about to split into sections, the pain so overwhelming.

You lift your face from your hands, your cheeks overflowing with tears. Why did you have to remember that?

“Hey,” Jungkook stands from the sofa and comes closer to you. His hand hesitantly landing on your shoulder but just like in your memory, you flinch. He immediately frowns. “y/n…” He brings his hand back to his body. “Talk to me, I’ll just listen.”

“G-go.” You keep your head low as your eyes stay glued to your lap. “Please just go.”

His hands freeze at his sides, using all of his self-control. Even you can feel how tense his body is, just from the heat that radiates off of it. You’re being serious. He needs to go before you spiral into one of your throbbing headaches that give you a panic attack. The kind you can manage on your own—and prefer to.

“Please, Jungkook…” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I’m not feeling well now so pl—”

“—Okay.” His fingers curl into hard fists. “Call me if you need anything. Please.” He stands here for another moment, like his feet have become glued to the floor and he’s unable to move. But after a tentative sigh, they finally move. And your ears bleed again at each sound that can be heard. The click of the AC turning off, the small dog whining in your neighbor’s yard, each drip of water dropping from the faucet and finally the whoosh of the front door opening and closing shut. And you finally let go a long, long breath.

Your head hurts and your heart hurts, the memory fresh in your mind. You never imagined to see Jungkook…like that. You barely recognized him. Does he have a drinking problem? Or did? You need to erase these images in your head, or at least scatter something pretty over them. And that’s when you get an idea that you know is pure torture.

One of the boxes from the attic is sat on your living floor, with your bottom plopped right next to it. It’s a box you organized yourself, you can tell. Just a box of intimate memories with your ex-husband. You pull out a letter you’ve read at least six times now…might as well make it seven.

The envelope is pink with little hearts drawn all over it and though it’s only eight years old, it looks like it’s at least 20. The envelope itself is wrinkly with random water stains and the page inside is soft and used like you’ve read this letter a thousand times. Might as well make it a thousand and one.

You slip the paper out of the envelope, unfolding it carefully, the crinkling paper opening up with Jungkook’s handwriting written all over.

April 10 2015

Dear y/n,

Hi it’s me, your boooooyfriend. >.< sorry I’m still getting used to it. You’re probably wondering why I’m writing a letter when I could just call or text you but you seemed to think it was cute in that movie we watched the other day and so Im writing you one too!! Also, I think my peers are thinking Im working really hard on a case. I wish I was but they won’t give me anything good. I know it hasn’t even been a year since I finally landed here in the Investigation sector as a detective but they still treat me like such a rookie…blaaaahhhhh you know this already. The captain seems to think I have potential though. But ya know what? The guys here said the only thing ive done right so far is getting you as a girlfriend hahaha

Maybe they’re right I mean they’re definitely right

I miss you so much

Im sitting here at my desk writing you and its just making me miss you a kabillzillion times more…….i seriously aaaaahhhh im going crazy because I miss you that much

Im so lucky youre so amazing and my favorite person to exist and so pretty so pretty

I know we’ve only been together for a short while but what if I told you I know exactly how I feel about yoooouuuuu huh what if

Ask me about it when I see you tonight

Love,

Jungkook Your cheerios

You read it. Then you read it again. This is the Jungkook you want to remember.

It’s the next day and you’re opening the package you ordered just yesterday. Pulling out a small box, you get it open and unravel the charging cable to the phone you’ve found. Taking a look at the clock, you realize you’re a bit behind. You wanted to get to the café at noon for work but it’s already 15 after. You quickly plug the charger into the wall and get the phone charging. It’s dead so it’ll take a while to get turned on so you decide to leave it here while you head out.

The café is a bit busy today, more people than you’re used to, but thankfully you see an open table. You set up your laptop and get to work. Taking a pause to message Mijoo about needing some guidance if she can meet any of these days. It would be nice to have some help in person. After working for a bit, you can’t help but lift your face from the screen and dart your eyes around the place. No sign of Seokjin today. Not that it means anything but he’s got the kind of warm, reassuring smile that you could use these days.

And just like clockwork, the quiet bell dings when he walks through the café’s front door. He meets your eye immediately and gives you a small nod and the smile you were searching for. You nod back, eyes going back down to the laptop before you take another peak towards Seokjin. He’s walked up to the counter, talking with the young girl that’s always here. After a moment she hands him a box of what you assume are desserts. Maybe he’s giving them to the elderly again.

Then he walks out.

Oh, he isn’t staying today.

That’s okay, you don’t have time to chat with a harmless nice guy anyway. You have work to do. Something to truly get your mind off of everything else you’ve been going through. You think it’s a miracle you have it in you to try every day. In another universe, you might have already gone insane.

After working a little while longer, you pack your things up and head to your car. It’s a sunny day, barely any clouds in the sky and it feels warm. Warm enough to make you forget this coldness that lingers all around you, all inside you.

You start driving home when you remember you’re supposed to pick up a few groceries so you stop by the market first. It’s not too crowded and since you’re in an okay mood, you decide to put in your earphones and walk inside with a pep to your step. You needed zucchini…what else? Bread for sure was on your list. Peanut butter, eggs, oh yeah and some chips for when you get a craving.

You start heading to the aisle with peanut butter when you recognize someone familiar.

“Seokjin?” You mumble his name but he doesn’t hear you. His eyes fully focused on his jams. He stands here, deep in thought before he finally reaches for one.

“Hi.” You say a little louder and he jumps in his spot.

He turns to face you, ears turning red when he sees you. “Hi.” He stares at you dumbfounded for a moment, “I just realized I don’t know your name.” Then he chuckles.

You can’t help but crack a smile, “It’s y/n.”

“Ah, y/n. Yeah, that suits you.” He tells you confidently.

“Does it?”

“Do you usually shop here?” Seokjin gestures around the aisle, “I’ve never seen you before. Or are you…” He suddenly drops his smile and looks serious. “Following me?” Then he breaks into a huge smile before adding, “Dun, dun, duuuun.”

You feel your stomach swirl with something before you shake your head, feeling embarrassed. “No, no! I live around here actually. This is just a coincidence.”

“A coincidence, huh? A lot of those lately.” He gives you another smile, this time more teasing. “We should just meet on purpose, you know.”

You stand here, taken aback by his words. Is he implying meeting intentionally?

He seems to feel your shift. “Unless, unless…” His eyes avert yours now, his ears turning a deeper shade of red. “Sorry. Unless you don’t want to. Maybe you’re already seeing someone.”

You shake your head quickly, “No. I’m…I’m not.” You’re not but it feels wrong to say it. “But I wasn’t assuming…anything. Like, if you were implying a date or something.”

Seokjin pouts his lips before glancing up at the ceiling, “Why not? You would have been right.”

You blink at him, taken aback again. “Oh.”

“I happen to know a pretty great restaurant. Maybe we can not coincidentally meet there?”

He’s…asking you out.

And it pains you because… “I can’t. Sorry,” You look down at your feet before glancing towards the jams. “Umm, I’m kind of going through something and—”

“—Oh.” Seokjin nods his head quickly. “No, no. I understand…you don’t have to explain. I’m kind of going through something too and I know that a good way to get through it is some nice company every now and then.” He gives you a warm smile, all the teasing gone. “I understand you though. So don’t worry but…” He suddenly pats his pants pockets before looking delighted. “In case you change your mind…I’m learning to…how do they kids say…shoot my shot.” He suddenly pulls out a receipt and a pen and scribbles something on it before handing it to you.

His number.

“Just in case!” He cheeses harder.

“I honestly don’t think it’s a big deal.” Misuk looks at you through the camera, her face looking brighter. “It’s just a date!”

“It is a big deal.” You whine again, “I’m in love with someone else and I have a whole lot of mess going on.”

Subin nods her head sympathetically, “That’s true. But I think Misuk means it’s not a big deal because it could be…” She pauses, clearly thinking of the right words. It’s amusing to you to see they might agree on this. “A good thing? A simple thing! A little, you know, fun thing!”

“Exactly!” Misuk drags out the word, “You don’t have to fall in love but you’re so focused on…you know, your memories…that you aren’t living life.”

“Uh,” You begin to defend yourself, “I’m—”

“—Yes, yes.” Misuk waves you off, “You are getting back into work! And that’s good! But you really should start living a normal life again.”

“And…” Subin looks off camera, her eyes looking softer. “It’s kind of the same. You are missing your memories, yes, and I’m so sorry…but 33 year old you was the same. Divorced. And I don’t think you were in any headspace to even think about wanting Jungkook back.” She finishes quietly.

“You wanted nothing to do with him.” Misuk tells you. “So just live a little…you know, just normal things. And who knows, it might help with your memories.”

You sit still for a moment. You’ll admit that you haven’t exactly been living normally. You mostly sit around all day, alone, surrounding yourself with things you don’t understand and torture yourself with memories of Jungkook.

“Anyway, I’ll let you guys know if anything changes.” You chuckle after you focus your eyes on your friends again. “I just got home so I gotta put these groceries ...away" Your eye notices the list lying on the counter and you realize..."Damn, and I forgot the eggs. Anyway, I’ll call later!” You sing out.

“Okay! Bye!”

“Bye!” Subin sings back. And you end the call.

Maybe they’re right. Maybe you deserve a little break or something simple and fun. You bite your lip, thoughts still lingering but you decide to reach into your back pocket and pull out the receipt Seokjin gave you. You shake your head quickly but reach for your phone and input the number and press call. You need light in this darkness.

You hate feeling defeated.

Sitting on your sofa, blanket wrapped tightly around you as your hand clenches around this cold, empty and useless device.

The phone has either never been used or was completely wiped. You thought you could torture yourself with more information but you’ve come out of this empty handed. There’s nothing on here. No call history, no text history, no pictures or videos…nothing. You squeeze the phone harder, frustration still building. When your actual phone buzzes.

Your eyes shoot down to your now lit up phone and you drop the useless one to the couch cushion. It might be Subin gushing about this band she’s seeing this weekend. You’ll ignore—

Buzz.

You give in, reaching for your phone and your stomach does its usual uneasy swirling.

Jungkook 9:10pm

How are you feeling?

Jungkook 9:10pm

We don’t have to talk but at least tell me how youre doing…

Your eyes slam shut, the urge to cry too strong. Because you’re hurt. You’re hurting. You’re confused. You’re angry. And you’re sad.

Why are you so weak? You should delete him, block him and throw your whole phone away. Because your phone knows him and you don’t.

But you’re weak because you’re going to text back.

Except Jungkook beats you to it.

Jungkook 9:13pm

Did you get hit with a headache earlier? You okay? Have you seen your doctor lately?

All these questions are giving you different kind of headache.

You 9:13pm

Its fine, Im fine

You lie

Jungkook 9:13pm

Liar

You 9:14pm

Jungkook

You 9:14pm

Do you have a drinking problem?

You press send. You see the bubbles pop up your screen, indicating that he’s typing but they disappear. Then they reappear. And disappear again.

You 9:16pm

Jungkook?

Jungkook 9:16pm

Who told you that?

You feel your shoulders tense.

You 9:16pm

No one told me

You 9:17pm

I just remember when I went to your place…there was a lot of alcohol lying around and the place seemed rough

You 9:17pm

And idk I got thinking. Im not trying to accuse you or anything but…is what I saw…what I think it is?

You send. It’s not a total lie. Not what you’re referring to…but not a total lie.

You stare at the screen but there’s no indication if he’s read your message or not. No typing. Nothing. Your eyes glance at the clock and it reads 9:19pm now. It’s okay. Only two minutes. But why does it feel like eternity?

9:25pm and all you’ve done is sit, tightly wrapped in a blanket on your couch, and stare at your phone screen, touching the screen every time it times out. And still nothing.

But then you see bubbles pop up.

Back straightening, you breathe in and out as your eyes remain on the screen.

He’s been typing for three minutes.

You hold your breath now.

Jungkook 9:28pm

And if it is?

You let out a short breath, disbelief crawling all over your skin that you throw the blanket off of you and stand from the couch. Your memories are reliable.

You feel a sting pierce your eyes but you grit your teeth and hold any tears back. This is just too much for you to accept. You walk into the kitchen, frustration raging inside your body. You step up to the sink, hands gripping the edge of the counter before leaning forward, sighing out your anger.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Calming down, you immediately grab a bowl and sniffle to yourself. You’ll just do these dishes and forget all about this.

You take another bowl, the hot water burning your fingers and palms as you absentmindedly scrub it clean.

“Sometimes I think you wash clean dishes at this point.” Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

You laugh, “Not true.”

“The water is too hot, baby.” He nuzzles his face into your neck, suddenly pecking it softly. “You’re going to melt the skin off your bones.”

You realize he’s right, the water is really hot but you were just lost in thought. Your wedding is in two days. You get out of your thoughts while you set the bowl back into the sink and turn the faucet off. “I’m just—”

“I know.” Jungkook nuzzles his nose into your warm skin. “I can’t believe you’re the one who’s nervous between us.”

You sigh, small smile on your face. “I’m not nervous. But I am, a little.”

“I know.”

“Not in a bad way.”

“I know that too.”

“In a…marrying the love of my life, wow life is crazy kind of way.” You dry your hands before twisting in Jungkook’s embrace and you lean in to kiss him. “You probably know what I mean.”

He laughs against your lips, “I would be the one who knows exactly what you mean.”

Your lips twist into a sheepish smile, “I missed you today.”

“I missed you more.”

You roll your eyes, a teasing smile forming now. “Liar.”

He looks surprised for a second before rolling his own eyes, “I’m serious.”

“You’re only serious about work nowadays.” You tease him, and you are mostly teasing. It’s only lately he’s been zeroed in on a case.

But Jungkook frowns, “It isn’t going well.” He admits to you. “I don’t know that we’ll get this one.”

“You will.” You lean forward more and nudge your nose against his, “You are the best there is.”

Jungkook chuckles, “Unfortunately I’m still in the ‘proving myself’ phase.”

“Here too.” You continue to tease him, “Still deciding if this wedding is happ—”

“—Heeeeey, don’t joke like that.” Jungkook nudges his nose against yours now, “Tell me I’m the best here too.”

Your hands trail down his chest, eyes focusing on his. “You are.”

“I wish Jimin would tell me that too.” He laughs a little but you know he’s serious. You take his hands in yours.

“You guys are new at being partners. Give it time, babe.”

“He hates me.” Jungkook sighs, “He thinks I mess everything up. And honestly, I can’t blow this one, y/n. The captain believes in me, which is good but my own partner doubts me.”

You understand this is hard for Jungkook to accept.

“Listen…” You give his hands a squeeze. “This is your first big one, right? Take it slow and I know you won’t get flustered like the last one.”

He immediately drops his hands from yours, “I can’t get like how I was with the last one.” Jungkook takes a step away from you, “This one is way too serious…the men I’m dealing with, y/n…you have no idea. I can’t mess this up.”

“Baby…” You feel bad for bringing up the last case he took with Jimin. He got too involved emotionally and when things didn’t end up well for the victim…”It’s okay. You have me to talk about this with and—”

“—But I don’t. I’m legally not allowed to. I got in trouble with sharing so much last time and…fuck,” Jungkook pauses. Closes his eyes slowly before taking a step forward and reaching for your hands again. “This is not what we need to be talking about right before our wedding. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You give his hands another squeeze. “We share our lives. With or without marriage, right?”

“I only wanna talk about us.” He breathes out softly, his lips inching closer to yours. “Let’s focus on you and me.”

And your skin is burning again. It’s on fire. Too much fire, it hurts.

And that’s when you realize you’re still here at your kitchen sink, hot lava rushing to your skin, burning you as you hold the bowl you were cleaning.

You take a deep breath, taking a step back from the sink when you slam your eyes shut and let out a loud groan. You don’t even flinch when the sound of glass hits the floor because you’ve thrown the bowl. You don’t care.

Another memory.

And it seems they’re all out of order.

Another bead of sweat dribbles down the side of Jungkook’s face, rolling right off his skin. And another miserable night. He gently throws his head back against the bathroom wall, his hairline drenched from hour two of hurling in the toilet. He’s drank too much again. Maybe some bad food poisoning in there. But even still, he knows he’s drank too much.

He isn’t abusing the alcohol, really. Not lately. But he knows what it can do to him. He hates it. He hates himself.

He hates this existence.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut before he groans to himself, knocking his head back a few more times. What is he doing?

He misses you.

He wants to make things right.

How?

Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before trying to stand from the floor. He’s wobbly but he manages. He’s tired and he isn’t sleeping and he can’t because he knows you’re not. This is how he feels like he’s with you, the only real support he can give.

He looks at himself in the mirror, his tired eyes staring back at him. He wants to tell that guy to fuck off, for some reason. He wants to scoff at him and offer him no sympathy. Jungkook wants to raise his hands to that man’s throat and squeeze. He wants to swear at him and curse him. His mouth twists and his eyes grow teary and he sighs. Because all he can do is cry for him.

His head snaps up when the bathroom counter vibrates from his phone. Someone’s texted.

Unknown Number

Its me

Buzz.

Unknown Number

We need to talk

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #jungkooks fics #Kim Namjoon #Kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #Kim taehyung #our time chapter 7

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modmad · 2 months

Note

Hey Mod, I don't know what's going on that hurt you, I feel like I missed something that's happened, but I can tell from what I did see that it didn't just hurt you, but scared you and made you feel a Lot of doubt. I've also seen a lot of messages pouring in with support, and I want to share mine.

I have hypermobile type EDS, fibromyalgia, and a whole bucket's worth of faulty wiring in my brain. And I've always had stories to tell but I never felt I was good enough to share them. If it's because I can't focus enough to get through nanowrimo, or because I can't manage the focus and time towards drawing as a hobby, or the fact that an excessive amount of either for me leads to my hands wanting to shut down. But you? You *inspire* me. Your stories, all the ones I've seen, read, experienced in some way or another, they're so good. And you're open and honest with your fans about your own health, and of course, we support you and always would rather you rest and feel as best you can, instead of pushing out something and working yourself too hard. But all of this is to say that. I think I would have given up on my own stories if I hadn't found you and yours.

I hope whatever is going on sorts itself out, I hope you're able to keep telling your stories. At your own pace, in your own way. I think you deserve to be happy. If there's anything we (your fans, especially those of us too awkward to come off anon, whoops,) can do, to help in some way? Even if it's silly videos or cute cat pictures or whatever it is that could just help you smile. We're here. We love you.

woof. I woke up to so many messages I can't even read them all in one go I'm getting too emotional- I do feel I owe an explanation so I'll explain what happened under the cut but all you guys need to know is I'm okay, I got through it, I love you, and you're so important to me and I'm so grateful for all the messages that have asked me to stay.

tw for suicidal thoughts and all that

yeah so I have the bad morning of all mornings: was introduced to the fact there's this one character (Mr Puzzles) on a very popular youtube that. resembles RGB. incredibly strongly. like. I don't want to link to it just look if you want to. Anyway at the time I thought it had just dropped (seems to have been around for 6 months actually), and having commented on it I immediately got an inbox full of hate mail.

My website, meanwhile, had locked both me and my web designer out of it, and- already in a bad state of mind- I went into full on panic/paranoid spiral of 'they have hacked it, and they are going to delete any proof that I was here before them.' This of course wasn't true, and we have since recalimed control of the site (don't know what happened there but hey. it's fine???? haha. ha.)

On top of this my father has terminal cancer of the pancreas, which is horrible for everyone already but it means that- at some point this year- I am going to be the only person with an active income in my house. I am disabled, do not make a lot of money, and the cost of living is skyrocketing. Combine that with months of Despair at the world right now, with the multiple wars, genocide, corruption and AI and the loss of control any of us have over our IP or lives and I just decided it was time to end it all.

I somehow remembered this was a bad idea to act on immediately (hard during a period of entirely irrational thought) and instead went for a very long walk, crossed the bridge I could have jumped off and during that I came out of the worst of it. I then came back home to so much love online I felt deeply ashamed for ever contemplating it, and I cried a lot. My nose is still puffy and now my feet hurt! lmao

Anyway. Yeah. There's your context. I am not going to stop hoping, making, or living. I am prone to moments of weakness and this was one of the worst of them and I am still here, thanks in a large part to all of you. I might need you in the future to defend me against this, or people who take our ideas, but I hope you know that I will do the same for you. We need each other, and to be there for you I need to be here at all.

also fuck Mr Puzzles

#context for mod's little (massive) mental breakdown yesterday #you don't need to read it but I felt folks are due an explanation #tw suicide #ask to tag #mental health is wow!!!! a thing

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princessbrunette · 4 months

Note

jj being so oblivious to how much he turns on reader and by the time they get back into her room at the end of the day she’s so needy for him and he’s like ???

-🐮

🍰♡₊˚ 🩰・₊✧

jj had taken the lead on the little pogue mission you’d joined in on today.

you wasn’t sure if it was the leadership and casual dominance over everyone that was doing it for you, your boyfriend strutting about in that black t-shirt and backwards cap — confidently throwing out “just follow my lead, okay?” to the group, or “not to worry, papa j’s got it.” which made your thighs clench whilst everyone else’s eyes rolled.

or maybe it was the way he was courteous, making sure your safety and involvement in everything was his top priority— glancing over at you to gauge your reactions whenever something happened, taking your hand to help you on and off boats or steps, calling out a “‘scuse me, if you could just make way for muh’lady.” as he’d usher you through a crowd with his hands on your waist.

whatever it was, it had you in heat by the time you had hurried him into his designated room at the chateau, pawing at him with the door barely shut, catching him off guard when you’re grabbing at the neck of his shirt trying to pull him down to get his mouth on yours.

“uh— hello, hey— you okay? why are you trying to eat me?” he pants after you get a few confused pecks in, gently holding you back by the shoulders. you whimper, just from having his hands on you and lick your lips hungrily.

“jj, you’ve been killing me all day. please, i’m sorry i just need you, really bad!” it comes out whiny and in one breath, his brows jumping up as he takes in the surprising information.

“okay first of all, never be sorry for that— alright. second of all, why? what did i even — i feel like if anything i was kinda gross today i’ll be totally honest with you.” he rambles, glancing down at the way your hands twist in his shirt itching to touch him.

“you’re just… such a natural leader jayj. was tellin’ everyone what to do n’ looking after me and it just drove me insane. wanted it all day.” you sigh, pupils practically covering your iris.

“really? th—that was doing it for you? jesus well, okay— im flattered— you know i kinda feel like i’m having one of those crazy wet dreams that i wake up all disappointed and sticky from so like — this isn’t a dream right?” he reaches down and pinches your hip, making you yelp and slap his hand.

“ow, why are you pinching me if you’re the one dreaming, jj?”

“thats a good point actually uh—”

“can you stop pinching me and start fucking me, please?” you mewl, drawing closer, practically breathing into his mouth and he frantically nods, dropping a kiss to your lips before pointing to the bed.

“yep, can do— get your skirt off. panties too.” he commands you, briskly making his way to the door to close it properly and lock it, making his way over to you to help you pull your underwear down your legs. “mm, that’s what i like to see. papa’s gotta eat.” he spreads your legs, shuffling around to be face to face with your cunt, dropping kisses to your inner thighs.

“been waitin’ for this all day!” you slur, already arching off the bed trying to get his mouth on you.

“yeah? well that means you’ve been a very patient, good girl…” he presses a sloppy kiss directly to your clit making your breath hitch, his thumbs sliding up either side of your puffy folds to spread them. “if only there was a way,” he spits on your clit and you jolt, the glob running down the entirety of your heat. “for me to reward you for that.” he grins up at you with wet lips before diving in, reminding you why you love his tongue so much.

🍰♡₊˚ 🩰・₊✧

#🐮 anon #jj maybank prompt

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milf-murdock · 1 month

Note

Hi!! I love love love your writing! Especially your 141!Reader series <3 I don't know if you take requests, but your last post about Simon and baby Joseph made me so angsty and I would love to read more angst from you. Could you please write about Simon thinking 141!Reader was KIA on a mission? Thank you!!!

Anon....who....who hurt you???? I’m kidding 😆 mostly 👀 But for real, this one HURT. Like. OUCH. This man has been through so fucking much…but let’s put him through a bit more 😈😈😈 also, I did very much hurt my own feelings with this one. So I’m thinking we might need a part two reunion because I don’t know if I can leave our Ghosty boy in shambles like this

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The rain patters against the window in a steady rhythm.

Simon watches the fat raindrops roll down the small window pane, one foot anxiously tapping against the concrete floor. He didn’t know why he was called to Price’s office, but there was an ominous charge to the air. Call it a premonition, or maybe an instinct, but he knew in his bones that something was wrong.

The click of the door handle pulls Simon from his thoughts as Price enters the office, a heavy silence filling the air.

“What’s happened?” Simon's voice has a hard edge to it, cutting straight through the bullshit. Watchful eyes appraise every detail of Price’s body language, and Simon notes the deep sunken look of his captain’s eyes accentuated by a somber expression.

Price avoids Simon's gaze, staring down at the oak desktop before him as he takes a seat. The captain wasn’t one to mince words or beat around the bush, but even he was having a hard time wrapping his mind around the situation despite his many years in the service.

Simon's heart hammers in his chest, every second in the unknown feeling like an eternity. This isn’t right, he thinks to himself.

Price steels himself with a deep inhale, pulling his gaze from the desk to face Simon head on, looking past the mask, speaking to the man he knew laid beneath.

“I wanted you to hear this from me, son. You…deserve to hear this from me.”

Simon stops breathing.

With practiced determination, Price continues his speech, having rehearsed the words in his head the entire walk down to his office.

“Reconnaissance mission, Operation Blackout, suffered multiple casualties after a long-range detonation by enemy action. There’s been no contact with the team, and rescue attempts were unsuccessful due to the extensive damage caused by the explosion. All team members are presumed KIA. The official course of action…”

The rest of Price’s speech is drowned out by the dull roar in Simon’s ears; his blood runs cold, his rigid body barely breathing.

This can’t be happening. Not again. Never again.

Simon's thoughts grip him by the heart, squeezing painfully.

I can’t do this again.

He had already lost everyone once. Had built impenetrable walls, designed to protect him from this type of pain.

But you. You and your goddamn charm, and your soft smiles, and your relentless fucking attitude. You broke down those walls brick by brick, made Ghost–no, made Simon– feel more like a man than he had in years. You slipped past his ironclad defenses and took his heart without him even realizing it.

And just when he had finally opened up, just when he had finally convinced himself that maybe he could be happy–that you could be happy together. It all came crashing down.

In the distance, Ghost could hear shouting. A chorus of denials piercing the air, heavy ragged breaths filling the silence between.

A heavy hand fell on Ghost's shoulder and he found himself back in his body, looking up at Price, voice raw.

With a stark realization, Ghost realizes it was him. He was the one shouting, the one gasping for breath.

The world tilted out from under him.

____________

Ghost left Price’s office a different man–a mere shell of the man who entered. With every step he took, he felt himself slipping further and further into the familiar safety of Ghost, an unpierceable facade moving through the world.

Everything felt wrong. Every step. Every breath. He felt like he was moving underwater, every action taking twice the effort it should.

The next few hours pass in a blur. The official order that he was being sent on leave. The ensuing argument with Price over the orders. He eventually just gave up. Leave, no leave, it didn’t fucking matter.

None of it fucking matters.

Johnny tries to see him before he leaves, meeting Simon on the tarmac. He tries to be there for his lieutenant, his friend.

The red rim around Johnny’s eyes reminds Simon that he wasn’t the only one who had lost you. They had all lost you. But even that which should have been a comfort, a sort of kinship in the grief, meant nothing. Simon didn’t give a singular fuck. He turned away from Johnny mid-speech, leaving the Scotsman to sit in his grief alone as he watched Ghost disappear into the aircraft.

____________

It takes every ounce of strength Ghost has to make it through the flight. To make it through the drive back home. To make it through that door.

Keep it together, soldier. Don’t you dare fucking lose it, Simon Riley. Just a bit longer.

His belongings crash to the floor as the door slams shut behind him. He doesn’t even bother turning on the light, instead using the faint glow of the moonlight through the curtains to guide him to the cabinet.

Ghost pulls the bottle of bourbon from its resting spot, not even bothering with a glass as he pulls off the corked top and takes a hearty swig.

The burn of the liquid is invigorating, filling Ghost with a quiet simmering fire.

He takes another drink. And another.

He walks through the flat in a daze, the amber liquid dulling his senses, sending him even deeper into the haze of his grief.

Ghost finds himself in front of his dresser, staring at the wooden drawers.

Taking another drink, he steels himself as he yanks open the top drawer. Rummaging beneath the pile of socks and t-shirts, Ghost digs out the small velvet box. He grips it tight in his hand, the small object groaning in protest as waves of rage and pain overtake Ghost, threatening to pull him under. Hot tears slide down his face, but he doesn’t even notice.

With a roar he throws the velvet box across the room, the impact fracturing the drywall. Ghost’s knees go out from under him and he crashes to the floor, his heart shattering into a thousand pieces. There would be no repairing this. No amount of time could heal this type of heartbreak.

You were dead.

And as far as Ghost was concerned, Simon Riley died with you.

#y'all I'm so sorry this one HURT #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley imagine #simon “ghost” riley x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost riley

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chaoticace2005 · 2 months

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Spiders, their senses, and Angel Dust implications

I already screamed to @xxqueenofdragonsxx about this but figured I’d put it out there because I was doing research and I can’t stop thinking about it.

While we don’t know how canon it is to the show, this does have some implications for fanfics and is fun to consider.

Spiders don’t have ears. Or noses. Or tongues.

People have already made jokes about Angel’s lack of a nose, but it tracks with that fact. We also don’t see his ears, although we have seen his tongue (which, given he isn’t an actual spider there can be some allowances made.) Yes, he doesn’t have pedipalps to act as a substitution for his nose/tongue, but that isn’t the only place they can smell/taste things.

It’s their legs/feet(?). Their legs and bodies have sensory hair cells that allows them to detect vibrations in the air, as well as changes in electrical fields (which… Vox and Alastor implications? Can Angel sense them.) Humans hear via sensory hair cells too, but those are concentrated in the cochlea of the inner ear and surrounded by the outer/middle ear system (eardrum, etc.) Spiders don’t have that. They also have chemoreceptors that can smell and taste things.

Now, as someone who didn’t know much about spiders it’s cool to think about in terms of a character with some spider-like characteristics. But then I thought about this other aspect of Angel

His clothing

More specifically his constant usage of gloves/long sleeves/boots. We know he hates his spider feet, and yeah, the usage of gloves and his blazer can be to fit his style, but it’s also fun to think that maybe him wearing them is an active attempt to reduce sensory input? He’d still get some vibration input because the fabric won’t block everything, but it won’t be as direct. But since spider sensory organs aren’t localized like humans are, this could essentially be the equivalent of wearing a headphones. (Also do you really want to taste every single thing you touch?)

Which brings me to the second order of business: when he DOESNT wear his gloves. We do see him have to be bare for the camera, and if you consider him wearing clothes as a way of sensory modulation, he could essentially be forced to get all that input. Sensory overload would already be so ways in a place with so many sounds, lights, smells, etc. but imagine if you also have to do that when not used to such a level of exposure?

In humans there’s a condition called hyperacusis, which is basically a reduced pain and discomfort threshold to sounds. Some everyday ones can cause pain. Some neurodivergent people also have sensory sensitivities like that, in both cases sometimes headphones can help to reduce input.

The thing is though, if you constantly wear them you’re reducing your own threshold. It’s not recommended for people with hyperacusis to wear earplugs all the time because it makes them even more sensitive when not wearing them.

So, if you apply the same principle here, there is even more reason to consider the idea Angel would have some level of overstimulation just from not having his clothes on, combine that with the work environment, what he has to do, and the emotional turmoil of it all and that just makes it worse.

Which… with me anyways I’ve found when I’m too overloaded my brain tends to nope out and dissociate. So that could be what happens to Angel as well.

Then, there is one time outside of the studio we see him with uncovered arms and that’s the battle at the hotel.

Here, he’s wearing gloves but his arms are exposed. So it could be said that he’s allowing himself access to more input while also not overwhelming himself. He still has a buffer with the gloves on, but he also has heightened awareness for things around him.

Again, the amount of this actually being applicable in canon is hard to say. Sense we don’t know how spidery Angel really is (since again, he does have a tongue) and what level of research went into that aspect of their character designs. But I think it’s a fun thing to consider.

So uhhh… yeah. Totally normal about this all as someone who totally isn’t interested in audiology, hyperfixating on hazbin hotel, and neurodivergent myself.

(Update: there is now a fic)

#I would like to state that this post is based on 2 am research of jumping spiders and spiders as a wholes sensory perception #so if there is any wrong information feel free to correct me #excuse me while I combine my special interests in a post #hazbin hotel #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel analysis #hazbin hotel meta

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cillian-gets-me-wetter · 3 months

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Hey can you write something about Joe and reader. Can it be like enemies to fwb. Joe bumps into reader at an event, he teases her about her stalking him and being obsessed with him but the reader just happens to be there because she’s genuinely interested in the event. Maybe after the event Joe decides to invite reader to like a after party kick back in his hotel room or home depending on the setting you choose and thats where they get intimate. Make it super smutty. Reader isnt famous in anyway she works in the field like a data analysis or statistician something other a journalist please, and you could make their rivalry or hatred stem back to college days.

NO BC I LOVE THIS CONCEPT SM YES YES YESSSS and i have the perfect song inspo in mind too :))

if u think i’m pretty - joe burrow x fem!reader

requested by: @multiflcs :))

warnings: exes to enemies to ??? (i’m sorry, all i know is complicated relationships tbh), smut (18+ ONLY), oral (fem receiving), joe is a certified munch (y’all can’t tell me otherwise), overstimulation, p in v, unprotected sex, BIG DICK JOE, riding, hair pulling, spitting, mention of unrequited love, praise, implied height difference, no use of y/n, brief cameo from ja’marr

disclaimer: i do not own any people, teams or organizations i included in this story. this is for fictional purposes only. do not copy or claim my work as your own. comments, reblogs and constructive feedback are appreciated!!

a/n: this is my first time writing smut so hopefully you enjoy reading this as much as i loved writing this!

here are resources for supporting palestine and gaza 🇵🇸

masterlist

i know that you're shitty and you're bad for me but i can't stop thinkin' 'bout it

as you walked the past the red carpet, you made your way inside the event venue, which was packed with celebrities, athletes and other public figures alike. as a data analyst for the 49ers, you were sent to las vegas to work for the super bowl so it was pretty exciting but a bit apprehensive. you’ve been to many football games for the past four years you’ve worked for the nfl but being able to attend the super bowl was a once in a lifetime experience.

through the connections you made throughout your time working, you scored an invite to the fanatics super bowl party this year so of course, you accepted. you look down at your outfit, which was a simple long-sleeved black cocktail dress, making you feel slightly undressed amongst those wearing luxury designers.

you walked through the sea of people that were socializing and talking amongst themselves to the bar area. the bartender, a woman who looked about your age, “hey, i love your dress! what can i get you?” you smiled, “thank you! and can i get a blue lagoon?” she nodded and began to make the drink. a voice behind you said, “you still order that? old habits die hard, i guess.” you scrunch up your face in confusion and look behind you, seeing the nfl’s golden boy, joe burrow, the sight of him making you sigh and roll your eyes.

you met joe during your second year at lsu, you had seen him around campus, went to some of the football games and at parties so you knew of him. you both had a statistics class together and he was failing so he asked you to help tutor him. you helped him gain a better understanding of the subject and was able to get his grade up. as you two spent more time together and got to know other, tension began to develop.

one night, he asked you to come over and hang out after your shift at a local bar and restaurant near campus. you got off of work and you drove over to his place, it seemed like a normal kind of night between friends, which consisted of ordering in food and taking turns to pick out a movie to watch.

this week, it was your turn to pick so you decided on sixteen candles since he never watched it before. you tilted your head up toward him from where you laid on his chest, “why haven’t you seen this before?” he shrugged as he gently ran his fingers through your hair, “just never got around to it.. i think tara tried to show me this other movie and i ended up falling asleep.”

tara mays was the typical popular sorority girl and cheerleader who thrived on daddy’s money in order to keep up with her lifestyle. her and joe would hook up occasionally but she would always want to make things into something more serious between them. however, joe would always have to let her down easy, insisting that she’s a great girl but a relationship wasn’t something he wanted (at least from her).

the words came out of your mouth before you actually thought your words over, “you aren’t seeing each other anymore?” he sighed, “yeah.. i had to be honest with her and myself about letting it continue.” you perk your head up in interest, “how so?” he looked at the television screen as if he was paying attention to the movie, “i told her i was into someone else.”

you nod understandably, “so.. who is this mystery girl? do i know her?” he looked down at you and smiled softly, “i think you know her very well. she likes to read a lot, she even has her own little library in her bedroom which is very cute. i have her coffee order memorized, which is a iced caramel macchiato with two sugars. her fav-”

you leaned forward and cupped his face, giving him a eager and passionate kiss. he quickly reciprocated the kiss, his hands wandering down your back. he moves away from your lips and starts to leave kisses all over your face, which made you laugh and try to wriggle away from him but his strong arms held you in place. he began to kiss down to your neck, then he flips you both over so that he’s on top.

it made you gasp and a breath hitches in the back of your throat at the way he moved you so effortlessly, like you weighed nothing. you opened your legs and wrapped them around his waist so he can feel more comfortable on top of you. he laughs softly at your reaction, “so.. i guess you’re into me too then?” you roll your eyes playfully, “shut up”. then you grab him by his shirt and kiss him deeply, internally praying that nothing ruins this moment.

the bartender handed you your drink and joe slides his card across the bar table to pay for it. you attempt to push it back in his direction, “that isn’t necessary, joe.” he shrugged it off and gently moved your hand away, “don’t worry about it.” the poor woman sensed the tension between the two of you and silently took his card and swiped it through. she asked, “do you want a receipt?”

before you said anything, joe shook his head and she handed him back his card, giving you both a polite smile. you sip your drink, annoyed at the fact that he even bothered to show up and the fact he pulled this kind of gesture knowing you wanted nothing to do with him. his voice broke you out of your thoughts, “you know… a thank you would suffice.” he dawned those famous cartier sunglasses and those stupid jeans he wore throughout college. even if he did look really hot, he was still the same person who broke your heart after graduation years ago.

you scoffed, “like i said, it wasn’t necessary. i could have bought it myself.” he retorted, “well i wanted to so you’re welcome.” your blood started to grow warm and beginning to boil at the way he was acting. he wasn’t the one who had his heart broken so the attitude wasn’t needed. he clears his throat awkwardly, “are you stalking me?” you furrowed your eyebrows at the audacity of that question. the fact he even asked you that made you want to punch him in the nose.

you laughed sarcastically, “are you fucking kidding me?do you seriously think that i came out here for you?” he shrugged, “well, why are you here then? you don’t know anything about football. you’re too obsessed with me to actually pay attention.” you glared daggers at him as the tension between the two of you grew by the second. you get closer to him and throw your drink in his face, causing attention towards you and him as he wipes the remnants of blue lagoon on his jacket sleeve.

the other partygoers stared both of you down, wondering what happened and what led to throwing a drink in the quarterback’s face. you seethe, “fuck you, joe.” you walked out of the party venue, completely embarrassed and anxious about losing your job since this incident involved a prominent player in the league. you made it outside and walked further down the street to a empty bench far away from all the commotion from the party.

you open your purse and dig through to find your pack of cigarettes that you only smoked when you’re stressed or overwhelmed and desperate times call for desperate measures. you take one out of the pack with your pink lighter, igniting it. you take a long drag and inhale into your lungs, letting it calm your nerves as you exhale. your hands were trembling and your brain was going at a million miles per hour when joe sits next to you.

he looks over at you, his eyes softening at the shaken state you were in because of him. you stare at the cars and people walking by, “if you want to get me fired, that’s fine.” he shook his head, “i’m not going to get you fired or anything like that. you had a right to throw that drink in my face.” you took another long drag as you flicked off some of the ash beginning to build up on top.

you both sat in an uncomfortable silence until he decided to break it, “so you work in data analysis now?” you nod, “yes.. i don’t know how long after what just happened.” he sighed, “you aren’t going to get fired. plenty of people in this field have done worse and received no repercussions. i’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you don’t get in trouble for this.”

you shook your head, “you wouldn’t understand, joe. you’re a man, if you were in my shoes, you would face no punishment. but for me, it’s 100% a possibility that i can lose my job because of this. you’re a famous quarterback who i threw a drink in his face while i just work for the team.” you felt yourself growing to panic as you anxiously tap your fingers against your thigh, “it’s supposed to be this huge event and i feel like i would be a liability for that.”

he wrapped his arm around you, not caring about the smell of the cigarette lingering on his clothes. his free hand rubbed against your back soothingly, doing his best to calm you down. he reassured, “if anything comes out about it, i know a few people that can make it go away. as for the team, i’m going to talk to them about it being a misunderstanding.”

you looked over at him, “you don’t have to do that for me.” he said, “i want to, okay? i put you through so much pain and i want to make it up to you.” you didn’t notice a few stray tears flow down your face until joe tilted your chin with his fingers and wiped them away with his thumb. his ocean blue eyes stared deeply into yours, “i am so sorry. for everything.”

you flick the remains of your cigarette to the ground and let out a tearful sigh, “i haven’t loved anyone else since you. i don’t think i’m capable of feeling that way towards anyone.” your confession made his heart drop into his stomach. he remembered that night after you both graduated as if it happened yesterday.

as you slowly kissed him after settling into bed after that eventful day, you whisper against his lips, “i love you.” those three words made him stop kissing you. while you two had been dating for almost 6 months, he had no idea if he was ready to say it yet. while he was the #1 draft pick for the cincinnati bengals, you were able to obtain an internship for the denver broncos, which was going to 17 hours away from him.

you noticed his lips stopped moving against yours, you looked at him with concern. “are you okay, baby?” he let out a shaky sigh, “i don’t know if i’m ready for this.” you asked, “what do you mean?” he continued, “you’re going to be all the way in colorado while i’m in ohio. how are we going to make this work if i won’t be able to see you?”

you looked at him, taken aback. “well, we can always facetime and we can visit each other whenever we can.” he shook his head, “we’ll literally go from seeing each other every day to barely seeing each other at all. do you have any idea how hard that is for me?” you rubbed your face, feeling the skin in order to not shut down.

you bite back, “it’s going to be hard for me too! it’s not just about you, joe. we both have our own careers we need to focus on but it doesn’t mean that i don’t love you.” he gets out of your bed and grabs his backpack off your chair, packing up his clothes. “where are you going?” he opened up the drawer you cleared for him whenever he would spend the night with you, shoving whatever clothes that he can fit into the bag.

“i just need space. i’m just going to go back to my place for tonight.” you get up out of bed, standing in front of the dresser so he wouldn’t just leave. “we need to talk about this, joe.” he sighed, “what do you want me to say? that long distance relationships don’t last no matter how much we’d try? get realistic and stop romanticizing this.”

your voice cracks and eyes well up with tears, “so that’s just it then? you don’t want to be with me anymore?” he shrugged, “i really don’t see any other solution.” you nodded meekly, finally moving out of his way. “just get your shit and go.”

you leaned closer to him, burying your face into his neck. he wrapped his arms around you, inhaling his cologne, noticing it was the one you gave him for his birthday. he kissed your forehead gently, “we’re going to figure this out, okay?” you nod and pull away from his embrace, wanting to get a better look at him. he still had the same haircut from college and his cartier glasses were off, the streetlight capturing how beautiful his eyes are.

he stared back at you in awe, he still thought of you as the most beautiful woman he ever laid eyes on. he moved a couple strands of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear, the gesture making you melt like putty in his hands. without a second thought, he leaned in and softly pressed his lips against yours, suddenly pulling away incase he misread any signals.

“i’m sor-“ you cut him off by kissing him passionately, your hand finding its home in the back of his head, running through his dirty blonde hair. while your other hand wandered under his plain white t-shirt, feeling his warm body against your manicured fingertips. he wrapped his arm around your waist while his free hand groping your left breast over your dress causing you to moan into the kiss, slipping his tongue inside your mouth.

his hand moves down to your plush thighs, giving them both a firm but gentle squeeze. his lips move away from yours, kissing down your jaw to your neck. your hand moves back to his hair, giving the roots a gentle squeeze, he lets out a breathy groan against you. his breath tickles your skin softly, his lips finding the spot on your neck that makes your squirm. he sucks against your sensitive skin causing you to mewl at the feeling of him sucking and biting your neck, leaving a bruise that you’re going to need to cover up later on.

he detached his lips from your neck to admire his work, lightly kissing the hickey he left on you, which made you wince. you both smile softly, taking in what just happened and how much you’ve missed each other. he asks, “do you want to head back to my hotel or yours?” you shrug, “it doesn’t matter to me.” he nods, “okay, we’re going to mine then.” he sat up, holding his hand out for you to take.

you hold his hand, allowing him to help you up from the bench and intertwining both of your fingers together. he said, “my hotel isn’t too far from here so it won’t be too long.” you nod, standing up on your toes and kissing his cheek. he blushed softly, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer to him as you walk to his hotel room.

as you walk closer to where he was staying, you began to slow down next to him as your feet began to grow tired in the heels you were wearing. he looked at you concerned about you slowing down, “is everything okay?” you nodded, “yeah, it’s just that my feet were starting to hurt.”

he squatted down onto the ground near you, he looked up and asked, “can you lift your foot up really quick?” you nodded, lifting your foot up off the ground for him as he held it delicately. he unhooked the heels clasp around your ankle and gently took off the heel for you. you lifted your other foot off the ground for him and he did the same thing.

he held both of your heels for you as he got up off the ground, dusting the dirt off his jeans. he asked, “do your feet feel better?” you smiled softly and nodded, “they do. thank you.” he smiled back and leaned down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. “you’re welcome, baby.” you laugh softly, “baby? are you getting all soft on me, burrow?”

he rolled his eyes playfully, “only for you.” he interlocked his fingers with yours, kissing your hand softly and leading the way back to his hotel. as you both walked through the lobby and inside the elevator, he pressed the fourth floor button and turned you over to face him as the elevator doors closed. he leaned down once more, kissing your lips once again, cupping your face gently in his hands.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you as the kiss grows more intense when the elevator opens, signaling that you made it on the fourth floor. he grabs your hand and hurriedly pulls you outside the elevator and leads you down the hallway to his room. as you reach the outside of his door, he pulls the keycard out of his pocket as you lean closer to him and teasingly kiss his neck.

he shudders as he puts the card into the slot, “fuck, don’t tease me.” you smiled against his neck, “or what?” the light on the door turned green and he immediately opened it, pulling you inside. he grabbed the “do not disturb” sign and set on the door outside the room, shutting it behind him and locking it.

you set your purse on the desk and he threw your heels to the floor near the nightstand, lightly grabbing your wrist to get you to look at him. he feverishly kisses you as if his life depended on it, his teeth clashing against your own. you managed to slip your tongue into his mouth as his hands explored your body over your dress. he managed to say through kisses, “take this off.”

you nodded eagerly as he sits down on the corner of the bed, wanting to watch you undress for him. you slowly took off your dress, revealing your matching laced black lingerie set underneath. he took off his jacket and his necklaces as you undressed for him, throwing his jacket to the floor and setting his necklaces on the nightstand then turning over to face you again.

you decided to straddle his lap, pulling him into a needy kiss as his hands wander your body to the back of your bra. “can i take this off?” you smiled against his lips and nodded, “of course, baby.” his hands unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor as he looked at your breasts for the first time in years.

his hands caressed them softly causing you to let out a soft moan into his mouth. he looked down at them, his eyes widened slightly at the sight of your pierced nipples. “when did you get this done?” you blushed softly, “like two years ago.. do you like them?” he nodded, his fingers teasing the balled jewelry, making you shudder and whimper.

he takes your breast into his mouth, sucking on your nipple and teasing the jewelry with his tongue. you moaned softly, watching him lick and suck while you run your fingers through his hair. his free hand teases the other one as his mouth moves to it, giving them both the same love and recognition. you whimpered, grinding your hips softly onto his lap.

he detached his mouth from you as his hands held your hips, helping you grind against him and groping your ass. he captured your lips again in a messy kiss, his nose brushing against yours. “i missed you so much.” you whispered against his lips, “i missed you too, baby.” your fingers reach the hem of his t-shirt, him quickly obliging as he pulls it over his head and throwing it to the floor.

he quickly flips you both over, climbing over you and kissing down your neck to your chest. you shudder softly against his lips as he kisses down your stomach to reaching the hem of your panties. his fingers brushed over the damp cloth causing you to whimper softly and open your legs for better access for him. he asked softly, “can i take this off too, pretty girl?”

you nod eagerly, “please take them off.. i need to feel you.” he grabs both sides of your panties as you lift your hips up so he can easily take them off. he pulls them down your legs and reaches your ankles then throwing them to the side. his fingers brush over your wet folds as you mewl softly at the feeling of his fingers against you.

he bit his lip as he teasingly rubbed his fingers against you, “you’re so wet for me.. and i barely did anything. it’s kind of pathetic, baby.” you mewl at his words, not being able to take his teasing any longer. you begged, “please do something, joe. i need you so bad.” without hesitation, he opened your legs a little wider and buried his face between them. he kisses and teases your clit with his tongue causing you to let out a sigh and closing your eyes.

he tapped your inner thigh, “look at me, baby. i want you to watch me.” you opened your eyes and looked down at him as he suckled your clit into his mouth. you run his fingers through his hair and mewl loudly at the feeling of him slipping his tongue inside of you. he devoured you as if he hadn’t eaten in days, you moaned in satisfaction and contorting your face in pleasure as you watch him eat you out.

his tongue lapped against your wet cunt as you push his face closer into you, grinding against his tongue as if you’re riding him. he pulled your legs onto his shoulders as your thighs clench against his head, you whimper and grip his hair tightly causing him to moan as he kisses and laps up your wet arousal. the pit building in your stomach began to boil over until you’re writhing against his face. and arching your back.

he knew you were growing closer to your orgasm as your movements started moving sloppily against him. he asked, “you want to cum, baby?” he slipped his tongue inside you once more. you nodded, “yes, i’m so fucking close!” he urged, “beg for it. tell me how much you missed me.” you whimpered, “i missed you so much, joe. no one can make me feel as good as you.”

he smirked against you, “good girl. cum for me, baby. cum on my face.” you came undone at his words and the feeling of his tongue flicking against your clit. you moaned in ecstasy as your legs shook against his face as he continued you to guide you through your orgasm. you gasp and whine as the overwhelming sensation of his tongue curling inside you.

you whimpered, “okay, you can get off. please.” he moved his tongue out of you, his chin and mouth glistening with your juices. he pressed a few chaste kisses in your inner thighs before he finally moved out of between your legs. he leaned up closer to you, your legs wrap around his waist, his hard cock straining in his jeans and rubbing against your inner thigh.

he kisses you feverishly, slipping his tongue in your mouth. tongues and teeth clash against each other as the neediness between the two of you grew more intense. he pulls away from you and lightly pecks your lips, “you taste better than i remembered.” you blush, “you remembered what i taste like?”

he nods, “of course i do. you haven’t left on my mind since i left that night.” you sat up, kissing him softly as your hand reaches down and teases through his jeans by caressing your hand against him. he groans softly, shuddering at the feeling of your soft hand on the outside of his jeans. “you can take it out if you want. i don’t think i’ll last long if you keep rubbing me like that.”

you giggle lightly, “you got that hard from eating me out?” he said, “i got hard the moment i saw you again if you want me to be honest.” you peck his lips softly, “you’re so fucking cute.” your hand moved to the zipper of his jeans, unzipping and unbuttoning them. he pulled his jeans down to his ankles, kicking them off to the side, revealing his black calvin klein boxers.

you helped pull his boxers down, revealing his girthy, rock hard cock slapping against his abdomen as you free him from his boxers. you stroke it softly, your thumb feeling the slit of his tip as he lets out a sigh. “fuck, i missed your hands on me.” you asked, “oh yeah?” he nodded, “if you keep doing that, this is going to be over pretty quickly.” you laughed softly and moved your hand off him.

he rubbed his cock over your folds, making you both groan and whimper in pleasure. “if it hurts, i’ll stop, okay?” you nod feverishly, bucking your hips to match his movements. he slipped the tip of his cock inside of you, letting you slowly adjust to his size and so he can feel how warm and tight you are. you both let out a breathy moan, he slipped more of him inside you causing you to wince and him to groan softly. “fuck, i missed you.”

his thrusts were teasingly slow as he let you adjust to his size again since it was so long since he’s been inside you. you whimpered, “fuck me, joe.. please”. he moved his hips, thrusting a little faster causing you to moan softly in his ear. his lips nipped and sucked on your collarbone as you buck your hips into his to match his thrusts. he asked teasingly, “do you like that, baby?”

you nodded eagerly, “fuck me harder… i need it so bad.” he moved your legs over his shoulders as he thrusted deeper inside you. your knees were against your chest as he fucked you harder, the sounds of his skin slapping against yours and both of your moans filled the hotel room. both of you were lost in each other until the sound of his phone rang from the pocket of his jeans.

he groaned annoyingly at the dreaded sound ruining the mood as he moved out of you, causing you to whimper at the loss of contact. he quickly grabbed his jeans off the floor and took his phone out of his back pocket, swiping to answer it and holding it against his ear. “yeah?” he smiled softly down at you as his hands groped at your breast, rubbing his thumb over your pierced nipple.

he sighed, “no, dude, i left the party over an hour ago. what happened?” you mouthed, “do you want to stop?” he shrugged, listening to whatever ja’marr is asking him about. “no, i caught up with an old friend and we’re back at my hotel.” you smiled softly as you knew you were the old friend he was referring to. he laughed softly, “no, i’ll tell you about it later..” you grew more comfortable onto the bed as he finished up his phone conversation. “okay i’ll text you later.. get back safe.”

he ended the call and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, leaning down and kissing you hungrily. he asked softly, “do you want to keep going?” you nodded, “yes please.” he laughed softly, “aww, look at you using your manners.” he kissed the crook of your neck then pecked your lips, “such a sweet girl.” you asked shyly, “can i ride you?”

he nodded eagerly, lying down on the bed next to you. you crawled on top of him, kissing his neck teasingly. he lets out a soft sigh, running his fingers through your hair as you find the sensitive part of his skin, sucking and nipping the same way he did on the bench prior. his breath hitches, “fuck, don’t tease, baby.”

you giggled softly, detaching your lips from his neck before giving the forming bruise a small kiss, hearing a wince from him. you got up onto the bed, hovering over his cock while you line him up with your entrance. you sink down onto his length, hearing shudders and gasps from the both of you.

you start to roll your hips, his hands going straight to your hips helping guide your movements against his body. you whimper and moan as you close your eyes and throw your head back in pleasure. his hand reaching up and groping your tit as you ride him to oblivion. you had plenty of hookups after you and joe broke up but no one made you feel so full and satisfied you the way he did.

he laid up further, pulling you closer to him as he kisses you passionately. his hands gripped against your hips, probably leaving tiny bruises for you to wake up to the next morning. sweat began forming and dripping down from both of your foreheads as your legs started getting weaker. his hand giving your thigh a gentle squeeze as your movements began to slow.

the heat in your stomach was rising as you continued to move against him. his hands wandered and caressed your body on top of him. he cupped your face softly and lowly whispered, “open your mouth, baby.” you obeyed, sticking your tongue out for him as he spit in your mouth. you whimpered softly as you swallowed his spit causing him to groan at the sight of you. “you’re such a good girl.”

his words push you closer to the edge of your climax as you push through the soreness in your legs. your walls began to tighten around him causing him to let out a soft moan. you moaned, “i’m so close.” he grunted, “fuck, i am too. cum for me, baby. i want to feel you around me.” you loudly gasped, burying your face in his sweaty shoulder, biting down to muffle your screams. the feeling of your teeth digging into his skin and your walls clenching his length made groan and shudder as he fills you up with his cum.

you pull him into a slow, needy kiss as you both were steadily coming down from what just occurred. you get off of his lap, legs shaking from either your orgasm or how long you were using them for. you get up from bed and attempt to gather your clothes to get dressed when joe asks, “what are you doing?” you eyed him with confusion, “getting ready to leave?” he shook his head, “come lay down with me.”

you found yourself crawling back into bed with him before thinking it over, you were used to leaving after a hook up so him asking you to spend the night was something that you hadn’t heard in a long time. you cuddled into his chest as he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you, your leg draping against his hips. what you didn’t know was that joe rarely dated after you two broke up. he went on a few dates but always found himself thinking of you to fully pursue anything.

you felt yourself beginning to doze off but was fighting to stay awake so you can be in the moment with him longer. he whispered in your ear, “you can go to sleep.. i’ll be here when you wake up, okay?” you nodded sleepily as you finally shut your eyes, softly snoring on his chest. he gently moved your hair out of your face and kissed the top of your head as he watched you peacefully sleep. he never thought you’d actually end up in his arms again..

but now that you’re here with him, he finally felt he was whole again. his only regret was that it took him so long to realize that he loved you after you two broke up and you moved away.. he cooed softly in your ear as you slept, “i love you.” he gave you a kiss on your forehead before drifting off to sleep, being happy that you were back in his arms again.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow smut #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fic #cincinnati bengals #keep reading #nfl imagine #izzy writes 💕

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