#bad days at this job are ‘I had to put an 11 year old on a restraint board while they screamed and cried and spit at me because they tried- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fuckyeahdindjarin · 5 months

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A Seams Christmas special oneshot | Moodboard

{ Part IV: Notch | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: T

Summary: Joel swings by yours with a little something before Christmas dinner at Tommy and Maria's.

Warnings: Unapologetic fluff and softness, inspired by this ask from @casssiopeia from the beginning of the year, no use of Y/N, very lightly edited

Word count: 2k

Notes: I'm so proud of writing up this little drabble. I've been in such a weird place with my writing, I'm just happy to end the year on a creative high. Obviously, I'm a few days late to Christmas, but better late than never!

There is a voice in my head telling me that this isn't good enough, that it doesn't hold up to what I was writing earlier this year. But I need to rewire my brain. There is no such thing as 'good' or 'bad' when it comes to fanfiction. All fanfiction is good fanfiction. This is our hobby, not our jobs, and we need to be kind to ourselves.

I am posting this at 11:59pm on New Year's Eve. Happy new year y'all, I hope Joel and Pin can bring you some festive cheer ❤️

Joel is this close to have a fucking breakdown.

He would measure out how close this is between his thumb and index finger if they were not currently tangled in webs of yarn, rapidly unravelling from from the bottom of what is supposed to be a sweater.

Your sweater.

The book that Lucy lent him months ago lies on the table before him, the pages yellowed and dogeared, open at the the easiest pattern of the lot to knit - a simple pullover in chunky yarn, in your favourite colour.

Well, it was supposed to be easy, anyway.

Despite Lucy basically holding his hand throughout the whole project, he’s had far less time than anticipated to work on it. Too many nights he finds himself at Tommy and Maria’s, elbow deep in dirty baby’s clothes and diapers, making himself useful for whatever needs to be done around the house.

Even Ellie chips in without being asked, often bringing back food from the canteen and making sure the severely sleep-deprived adults are eating, if not well fed. Joel honestly doesn’t remember how he did it with Sarah as a clueless twenty-something, with an even more clueless younger brother.

As he attempts to free himself from the quagmire of wool, he grimaces at the stiffness all over his body, feeling it especially in his back after sleeping in an armchair all night with a rapidly growing two-month old.

He’s too old for this shit - but there’s no saying no to the little rascal with Tommy’s nose and Maria’s eyes.

The knitting needles clatter to the floor when he jumps at the front door opening and slamming shut, a frustrated fuuuuuuck slipping past his gritted teeth.

Ellie’s voice rings out loud and clear as she scampers up the stairs, getting progressively louder until she’s outside his study. ‘Hey! Did you remember to put the potatoes in the oven? We have to leave for Tommy’s in an hour - dude, what the fuck is happening?’

‘What do you think is happenin’?’ he growls.

Crossing her arms, Ellie leans against the doorframe wearing a far too amused expression. ‘Maria said no gifts.’

Joel rolls his eyes. ‘It’s not for Maria.’

The teenager squints, perplexed, at the bits of wool in his hands. ‘What is that meant to be?’

‘... A sweater.’

Ellie bites her bottom lip, holding in a poorly concealed giggle. ‘I think a sweater is meant to have sleeves.’

‘You think?’

‘Want me to go get Lucy?’

With a heavy sigh, he mutters, ‘Fine.’

At the arch of her half-eyebrow, Joel adds begrudgingly, ‘Please.’

Ellie grins, sneakers skidding on the floorboards as she takes off. ‘Hang in there, old man!’

Despite the cold, his palms are sweaty, sticking to the kraft paper wrapped haphazardly around the even more haphazard package clutched tightly in his right hand.

The night air mists before him in puffs of white as he shuffles a path through the falling snow. His ears are tingling from the cold, and flexing the stiff, frozen tips of his fingers, Joel knows he should’ve worn his gloves. They weren’t in their usual place by the door though, and he was so frazzled that he barely got his shoes tied up before dashing out the door, sending Ellie ahead with the potatoes (that are definitely undercooked) to his brother’s.

Your cottage glows yellow and orange in the darkness, and your stairs no longer creak when he trudges up them, having fixed them just in time before the first snowfall.

He hears your footsteps come from deep within this house when he knocks. Your eyes are wide when your door cracks open tentatively, but then your lips curve into a smile - the smile that he takes with him and keeps him warm when he has to leave Jackson for days-long patrols.

‘What are you doing here?’ you ask, ushering him inside, not batting an eye at the snow he tracks inside. ‘I thought we were meeting at Maria’s.’

Pressing a kiss to your lips, he softens at the way you lift your face towards him to catch it, careful to keep the parcel out of sight behind his back. ‘Yeah, we were, but thought I’d see if you need a hand with anythin’.’

‘Such a gentleman,’ you tease.

A low fire burns in the hearth, the wood he chopped for you in the fall stacked in a tidy pile next to the mantelpiece. Sweeping his eyes across the living space, he spots the book with the cracked spine that he reads when he’s here on the coffee table, next to yours. On the other side of the couch is the Christmas tree that he cut for you, and he watched you dress it up in tinsel and fairylights one night after a quiet dinner and before hot cocoa under thick blankets.

He likes seeing himself at your home. In the things he does for you; in his things, casually scattered around - like they belong in your space.

‘The pies are in the kitchen, could you please put them in a bag?’ you ask. ‘I’ll just grab my coat and we can go.’

‘Sure, sweetheart,’ he answers, waiting until you’ve disappeared into the bedroom before setting down the present under the tree.

He’s leaning against the back of the couch when you pop back in, a few layers deeper than when you left him, the pies nestled safely in a carrier bag by his boots.

‘Shall we?’ you ask brightly.

Joel hesitates, wondering if he should wait until after dinner to tell you about the present. It only takes his eyes darting to the foot of the tree for the briefest moment for you to catch on. The slow smile that stretches your cheeks and lights up your eyes warms him from the inside out.

You cock your head to one side, playing coy. ‘What’s that, Joel?’

He shrugs, feigning cool. ‘Why don’t you go ahead and find out?’

His chest physically swells at the way you dash towards the tree, landing on your knees in uncharacteristic recklessness, the impact only softened by the rug underneath. You cradle the lumpy package to your chest like something precious. ‘You got me a present.’

He settles on the end of the couch next to you, his heart beating harder in his ribcage than he’d like to admit. ‘Don’t get your hopes up, sweetheart.’

You frown at him. ‘Why?’

‘You’ll see, but I wanted to give it to you anyway.’

You open the package carefully, as if it was wrapped in the fancy paper people used to buy at the shop. Joel holds his breath when you peel it away to reveal what’s inside.

He’s far too inside his own head to hear your inhale that sounds a lot like wonder. You pick up the sweater gently, shaking it out, and Joel winces when he sees it in the flicker of the firelight.

Disastrous doesn’t begin to cover it. Lucy managed to connect the sleeves to the shapeless body in a last-ditch salvage attempt, but one is clearly longer than the other. The stitches are untidy, some have obviously caught onto something and pulled loose. Rough around the edges is putting it kindly.

Joel wants to reach out, grab it, chuck it into the fire and let the flames swallow it whole.

Finally, the silence gets the better of him, and he blurts out. ‘I’m sorry.’

You stare at him, stunned. ‘What?’

Under his whiskers, his cheeks flush in embarrassment, and he rambles, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinkin’. You deserve better sweetheart, here, let me -’

You almost lose your balance keeping the sweater out of his reach. ‘Don’t you dare, Joel Miller.’

Confused, he watches you rise to your feet, shucking your outer coat and another layer. ‘What are you doin’?’

Grabbing the sweater, you slide it over your head and thread your arms through the sleeves. The soft knit drapes over your curves, too big over your shoulders and the hem falling unevenly, higher on the right side than the left. One sleeve is long enough to cover half your hand, while the other sits right on the wrist.

And yet.

You’re beaming like you just picked up something at Bloomin’dales or whatever the fuck those department stores were called back then.

‘I love it,’ you declare, no trace of irony in your voice, as hard as he’s trying to find it.

He scoffs in disbelief. ‘C’mon, sweetheart, you’re just sayin’ it -’

You surprise him, grabbing him by the scruff of his collar and dragging him towards you to plant a firm kiss on his lips.

‘I love it,’ you repeat slowly, with conviction, as if willing him to believe you. ‘Thank you.’

He doesn’t quite still, but he smiles and kisses you back. ‘Merry Christmas, sweetheart.’

‘Since we’re doing this -’ you trail off, sliding out of his grip to reach around the back of the tree, pulling out a neatly wrapped gift. ‘This is for you.’

Joel pauses.

For him.

For the longest time, nothing had been for him unless it was soul-crushing grief and pain.

And yet here it is - his name on the tag written in your neat handwriting. Something he can hold in his hands. For him.

His fingers tremble when he reaches out. The package is soft, and the paper crackles under his grip. He all but tears it open, uncaring of the way the wrapping falls to the floor.

A laugh bubbles out of his throat, and you look relieved at his reaction. ‘You like it?’

It’s not quite a Santa hat. It’s a chunky dark red beanie with a white brim folded back, and topped with a white pompom.

‘My ears were so cold walkin’ over. It’s perfect,’ he says, pulling it over the crown of his head. Of course, it fits just right, sliding soft and warm over his ears. He adds with a wink, ‘Y’know what, I might just shimmy down some chimneys after dinner.’

‘As long as you shimmy down mine too,’ you retort, not hearing the euphemism.

Joel quirks an eyebrow at that, one large palm squeezing your backside through the layers. ‘That an open invitation, sweetheart?’

You duck your head, more out of habit than actual shyness, with mischief in your smile. ‘Don’t be so crude, Joel Miller.’

Adjusting his new hat so that it sits comfortably, he points at the pompom and jokes, ‘Shame I can’t wear this on patrols.’

Right on cue, you hold up a finger. ‘Funny you should say that.’

He chuckles when you pull out a second, plain black beanie, as if out of thin air. ‘You really thought of everythin’, sweetheart.’

You shrug playfully. ‘I’m smart like that.’

‘I know you are,’ he smiles.

‘Merry Christmas, Joel.’

His lips find yours again in a slow, lingering kiss that has you leaning into him for more when he pulls back. ‘Thank you. For everythin’.’

You hold his gaze - heavy with meaning, light with joy. It wouldn’t take more than a tilt of the head towards the bedroom to derail your evening plans, and you both know it.

In the end, you’re the one who stays strong. Taking one step back from his warmth, you reach for your coat. ‘We’re late, we should go.’

His eyes widen. ‘Wait - you’re not wearin’ that to dinner are you?’

‘Of course I am,’ you say, buttoning up your coat over the sweater.

‘You don’t have to, sweetheart,’ he almost pleads with you.

You grin, heading for the door, blowing out candles as you go. ‘Too bad, I’m never taking it off.’

Joel shakes his head with a wry huff. ‘Well, I hope not never -’

You have one foot out the door when you suddenly remember. ‘I almost forgot - you left your gloves here last time. They’re in the cupboard by the door.’

Ah, that’s where they went. He opens the drawer and pulls them on, one after the other, the leather, worn smooth with age, creaking as he wraps his fingers around the handles of the carrier bag.

Joel is about to follow you out the door when he pauses over the threshold. Glancing down at the black beanie in his grasp, he reaches up and hooks it on the coat rack, nestled among your clothes.

He hopes that when the time comes for him to wear it for the first time - maybe on a patrol that will take him away from you for a few days - it will smell like you.

Gorgeous dividers by @firefly-graphics ❄️

More notes: I hope I will return to the main series in the new year. I've missed these two lovebirds, I hope you enjoyed this little interlude! ❤️

#fuckyeahseams #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #goodbye 2023

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hisunshiine · 1 year

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—college nights, diner fights | jjk

pairing: waiter!jungkook x waitress!reader au/genre: diner au, e2l, angst, smut, fluff rating: M wc: 9,664 warnings: POV switches (obvious, tho) mentions of domestic abuse and alluded infidelity (parents not pairing), JK's mom has terrible boyfriends and his dad is a petty "Disney" dad, Reader's parents are better but not around often, mentions of Jungkook having to protect his mom from the bad boyfriends, mean teachers, enemiesssssss, triggering middle school memories can be brought up upon reading the banter of middle school JK and reader LOL but also not LOL, swearing, vulgar statements, forced proximity, secret mutual pining, a drunken physical altercation/assault at work (mild), mentions of blood, minor cuts/scrapes, kissing, tattoo tracing SMUT warnings: oral (f receiving), praise an: shoutout to my beta readers @colormepurplex2 @downbad4yoongi @mrsparkjimin18 @peachiilovesot7 for helping me get this thing done in time despite me being on vacation and dragging my feet! thank you all so much for the motivation, for brainstorming, and just all around positive feedback! summary: If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen! You and Jungkook have been enemies for as long as you can remember—elementary school even—and when Seokjin hires him despite knowing this, you have to call a truce during working hours. When an incident at work leads Jungkook, and you, to put things into a different perspective, will the heated diner fights become a passionate college night? Or will it fizzle before it can start?

Bangtanstrology Writing Event hosted by ME of @bangtanwritershq

My Big 3 are: Sun (Member): Gemini- Jungkook, Moon (How They Met): Scorpio- Late Night Diner, Rising (Trope): Libra- Enemies to Lovers

Part 1: Elementary School

Elementary school is supposed to be fun. For you, 11 years old and in the fifth grade, elementary school is perhaps the best time of your life so far. Your dad signed up for career day, and you are excited beyond measure for him to come in and meet with your class to talk about his job.

It’s rare that you get to spend time with your dad, as his job keeps him pretty busy. The fact that he was able to show up today was a miracle in and of itself, but he negotiated presenting first so that he could leave first to get to work.

“Everyone, please welcome our first parent speaker, Mr. Cha.”

Your classmates applaud as your dad steps forward to the podium in the front center of the classroom and you beam from ear to ear. He looks all spiffy—hair styled well, suit pressed, and shoes shined.

“Good morning, boys and girls, I am Mr. Cha, and I am here to speak to you about my career. To be honest, I have two jobs,” he pauses as the kids, including you, look at him in both awe and confusion, “I am the father to that little girl right there,” he points to you and you giggle. “That is a full time job all on its own, but for the other time spent working, I am a plastic surgeon.”

You can’t help the pride you feel from your classmates clapping as your dad shares. He talks about the schooling needed to get to his position, shares study tips for the transition to middle and high school, which—while still some time away—will be good to begin practicing even now.

“You’re so handsome, Mr. Cha! Have you ever had any work done yourself?” one of the students asks during the question time.

“Ah, great question! I have tried some of the treatments that we offer at my clinic, because if I don’t believe in it, why should others have faith in me and the services I offer?” he explains. “I had a colleague of mine fix my deviated nose bridge, which I injured playing basketball in college, and I maintain my skin with various anti-aging treatments as well. It’s important to start taking care of your skin even at this age! Princess, come help me please.” Your dad gestures to you, and you rise from the chair, only a little embarrassed at him using your nickname. “Help me pass these out to your classmates.”

You begin walking around the room, placing the small cardstock printouts on each of your classmates’ desks as your dad continues speaking.

“These are coupons for my office. You can give these to a family member, or if your parents will allow you to come in, we offer a free consultation to check your skin, and a reduced rate for any skin care products or procedures for any of my princess’s classmates and their family.” He wraps up his presentation there, pulling you into him for a side hug as he smiles at your classmates and the other parents waiting in the wings to present. “Thank you for letting me present, I’ve got to run because I have a rhinoplasty scheduled today, and I need to prepare, but I had a lot of fun talking with you all today!” As your dad kisses your forehead, he whispers a quick goodbye as he leaves your classroom. You’ve never felt so proud.

🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️

“Okay, everyone, let’s line up for P.E.,” Ms. Kim directs, and you jump in line with your peers to walk down to the field. Your classroom teacher disappears for his break as Ms. Kim takes over, and thus ensues a battle between your class as you play ‘Capture the Flag’.

“The rules are simple,” Ms. Kim explains, “a ball is placed on each side of the field in that box.” She points at the four cones creating a safe zone with a kickball inside of it. “Once the game begins, players have to cross the midline into ‘enemy’ territory to try and capture the ball and bring it back to their side. The other team has to stop you from stealing the ball by pulling the flags to remove your waistband—no tackling! Understand?”

“Yes, Ms. Kim!”

“Good. If your belt is pulled off, you stand off to the side at the cone here, okay? That’s the jail. To rescue your teammates from jail, you have to high five them. You must return to your side before attempting to go after the ball again. Once a player enters the box, they are safe, but they cannot stay in there forever…”

You tune out Ms. Kim because you already know how to play, and instead busy yourself with wrapping the tan belt around your waist, adjusting the position of the three blue flags hanging from it. The red team moves to their side of the midline, and you stretch your legs idly as you wait for the teacher to blow her whistle.

🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️

Huffing, you pout as you walk to the jail cone, re-attaching the waistband that your classmate pulled off. He’s put you in jail several times now, almost as if he’s targeting only you during the game. It’s getting a little irritating, since Jeon Jungkook is the fastest boy in the fifth grade, but he’s spending all of his time chasing you instead of helping his team win. Even now, he’s guarding the jail so your best friend can’t come to save you again.

“Dang, JK, you pulled her flag again?” Kim Taehyung snickers loudly as he jogs over to where you’re held captive.

“Can’t let the princess get everything, now can we?” he taunts, a sarcastic tone to his words.

Kim Taehyung, unable to whisper to save his life, leans into Jungkook and asks, “Do you think her dad worked on her face? No way she’s that pretty on her own.”

Your feelings are split between irritated and pleased at the backhanded compliment.

“She’s not that pretty, it looks more like her dad messed up her face, ‘cause she’s so ugly,” Jungkook counters, and it’s hard to decipher if his cheeks are red from playing or from talking about your looks.

“But, you said last week that she was—”

Ms. Kim’s whistle blows to end the game, and you miss the end of Taehyung’s statement. Walking away from the two fools, you barely get a foot outside of the jail zone when a sharp tug at your waist stops you in your tracks. You look down and see your belt missing, and hear a soft thud a few moments later as it hits the grass in the opposite direction several yards away.

Taehyung is laughing, his large boxy grin behind his hand as Jungkook smirks at you.

“You lost.”

The two then take off towards where your teacher is collecting the game belts, leaving you to backtrack to get yours.

“What took you so long? Everyone else has already returned to the building. Taking your time to head back to class is not good sportsmanship.”

“But, Jungkook—”

“No excuses. Hurry up and get inside.”

Jogging back to the building, you get another scolding when you reach the classroom, with your teacher telling you that just because your dad is a surgeon and came for Career Day does not mean you get to behave this way. From the corner of your eye, you watch as Jungkook eats up every second of the scolding, seeming to enjoy the way you wilt as it continues. As you walk back to your seat, you don’t see Jungkook stick out his foot, and you trip loudly as the desks and chairs nearest you clatter and clang as you try to regain your footing.

As the boys snicker at your forced clumsiness, you vow to yourself that Jeon Jungkook is the worst person to exist, and you will hate him for as long as you live.

Part 2: Middle School

Jungkook’s had a hard week. Chuseok just ended, and he had to spend it with his dad’s family instead of with his mom this year, per their divorce agreement. He’s partially thankful because it allowed him a moment to rest. His hypervigilance with his mom’s new boyfriend is tiring, and his grades are suffering for it. But Jungkook is tired of these men sniffing around for a piece of the ‘supposed’ alimony his mom receives from his dad, because everyone was aware when the CEO of Jeon Industries divorced his wife and married his secretary. Jungkook begged to switch schools, but his parents refused, despite it being reported on several news outlets for a month in sixth grade.

Eighth grade hasn’t been so bad for him though, no one talks about the divorce anymore, and Jungkook is able to be just Jungkook, known for his athletic abilities and gaming. He was able to guilt his dad into a new gaming computer, since he forgot to take him back to school shopping, and Jungkook is able to help his mom pay the bills each month with the earnings he makes betting on Overwatch.

So when he returns back home, tired of hearing tales and seeing pictures of the trip to Cancun with the new baby that conveniently interrupted the planned shopping trip, to see his bed holding a Nike box with the shoes Jungkook begged his mom to get at the start of the year, he’s elated. He erupts into shouts and whoops of excitement, running to the kitchen to hug his mom.

“Ouch!” she can’t hide the wince as Jungkook pulls back from the embrace.

“I didn’t even squeeze you that tightly, Mom. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing, you know how clumsy I am, I ran into the dining room table the other night—”

Jungkook doesn’t even think as he reaches for the hem of her shirt, barely lifting it to see an ugly burgundy bruise spreading across her abdomen.

“Mom! Did he do this to you?” Jungkook demands, fury building in his body.

“N-no, honey, you know how I c-can be,” she stutters through the lie, but they both know the truth.

“Mom, if he did this because of money, just return the shoes, it’s fine.”

“No. I bought those for you. You deserve them.” His mom is resolute, turning away and adjusting her shirt as she goes back to cooking dinner. “Plus, we broke up. He won’t be back.”

Up in his room, Jungkook readies the shoes for school tomorrow. He has a few nice things, his dad is a CEO after all, but after the divorce, Jungkook chose his mom, and his dad took it personally. His dad didn’t understand, but the choice was clear to Jungkook. His dad had a new wife, but his mom had no one. Jungkook couldn't leave her too. But his dad became spiteful after that, and so Jungkook can’t take most things his dad buys him to his mom’s house, including certain clothes and shoes.

It’s why he’s so upset about his dad missing back-to-school shopping, because those were usually the only things he was allowed to take to his mom’s, but this year he has nothing new. Not until his mom bought him the Nike Dunks he’s been coveting. Jungkook is happy, proud of his mom for choosing him over the newest boyfriend, and lying in bed, he finally feels like maybe his life isn’t so bad. He hears a knock at the door, and his mom’s tired feet shuffling to answer it.

“Please, Jongyeon-ah, I promise, it won’t happen again.”

Jungkook rolls over, grabbing his headphones to drown out the sounds of the pleading, good for nothing, weaseling himself back into his mom’s life.

🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️

“Yo, Jungkook, those dunks are fly!”

Jungkook props his shoes up on the desk next to his in class, showing off the brand-new kicks to Taehyung.

“Yeah, they're limited edition.” Jungkook knows his response is a little douchebag-esque, but he doesn’t care. He’s wanted these shoes for the longest time, and after all of the bullshit he dealt with during Chuseok and now waking up to see that greasy slimeball his mom said she was done with shirtless at the table for breakfast, he just wants to pretend for once that his life is perfect.

“Take your crusty shoes off my desk,” you scoff. Jungkook ignores you for a few seconds, leaving his feet where he has them propped on your desk. He hates that you called his shoes crusty, knowing that they’re not. They don’t even have a speck of dirt on them! He made sure of that upon his arrival, being overly cautious with each step and wiping away any blemish he perceived to be there.

“Awe, is the princess jealous she doesn’t have the limited edition dunks?” Jungkook can’t pinpoint when this rivalry started, he just knows that for as long as he can remember, the two of you have been enemies.

“There’s a reason the supply is limited. It’s because they’re ugly and they stopped making them once they realized someone would have to be an idiot to wear them. You sitting here with them just proves this point.” You push his crossed feet off your desk and he lets you, but Jungkook holds you in his glare.

“One day you’ll stop being a hater, drowning in all that Haterade you’ve been drinking,” Jungkook makes a play on words, and his friends ‘ooooh’ and high five at his middle school burn.

🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️

At lunch, Jungkook precariously steps between the seats to avoid damaging his shoes. His shins are starting to hurt from how he’s walking to avoid creasing his sneakers, but it’s worth the pain to him. He’s successfully avoided getting any food on his shoes from the sloppy eaters, and as he makes the last stretch to the door, a loud yell catches him off guard.

“Watch it!”

Nayeon, one of your lackeys, warns everyone as she’s bumped by you and her red sports drink goes flying. Jungkook is stuck between tables, backpacks cluttering the aisle and Nayeon’s body flailing taking up all of the space. It all happens in seconds—a hip check, a flying drink, and the contents now strewn across the floor and Jungkook’s new sneakers and laces now stained a bright red, dripping across the leather and fabric of his brand new, limited edition Nike Dunks.

“Oh my god, Nayeon, you are so clumsy!”

Jungkook gawps at you, unbelieving, as your annoying voice fills the silence that took over the room only moments before.

“So sorry, Jungkook. Nayeon bumped into me and then she spilled her haterade—I mean Gatorade—all over your new shoes! I hope those weren’t hard to get or anything! I’m sure your CEO daddy can get you a new pair.”

Jungkook storms from the room, seething at your audacity. If you had any idea about his life, would you treat him this way? He wishes you could walk a day in his shoes, maybe you would realize that life outside your perfect, princess bubble is not always sweet, and would think twice before being a bitch to him, but it’s too late for him to change his view of you. You are the devil’s spawn and Jungkook has never hated someone as much as he hates you.

Part 3: High School

Getting into BTS-U should be easy for you, what with your dad being an alumnus, but you don’t want to rely on nepotism. You’ve been working your ass off for good grades all four years of high school, and the final determination of your competency is about to start. Only one student can represent your high school as the Youth of the Year, winning prestige and honor by being granted early admission into any four-year university in the country of their choice without needing CSAT scores.

The last of the trials, the oral interview, is scheduled for today and as you sit outside the room in the creaky, overly hard chair, your heart pounds. Of course, the final two students competing for this merit would be the two students who despise each other the most in the school, making the competition that much more important to you.

You cannot lose to fucking Jeon Jungkook.

“We’re ready for you!”

The chipper voice startles you from your thoughts as you steel yourself to go into the final challenge.

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“Thank you all for your participation in the Youth of the Year program. As you know, the contenders were all very high achieving and will have plenty of options available to you for your future. Do not let not being named deter you from the future awaiting you all. Now, today, we interviewed the two finalists from this wonderful school, and while both were outstanding, one student really opened up and shared a vulnerable side to him that inspired us. He has already begun an incredible journey in his young life, showcasing a will to succeed. Jeon Jungkook, please stand.”

The crowd in the auditorium bursts into applause as you burst into tears. The one good thing about this ceremony is that the finalists do not sit on stage, so in the chaos and celebration, you are able to sneak away to the bathroom. Jeon Jungkook looked so shocked to have been chosen, but you knew that he couldn’t actually be shocked. His mom stood up with him, hugging him with pride, and your parents couldn’t even be bothered to show up for such an important moment.

You tell yourself it’s not a big deal, that you have done well and will most likely have the same options for college as Jungkook does, but being a Youth of the Year finalist is not the same as being the Youth of the Year. What really hurts you the most is that if the roles were switched, Jungkook’s mom would be there to hug him and tell him he did great and fought hard. If you had been chosen, you still would’ve been alone, but at least the loneliness wouldn’t have hurt as much.

The judges who interviewed you must think you don’t need the help, that you have everything you could ever want, so why would they choose the spoiled little rich girl? Why would they choose the girl who eats dinner with the maids, who read bedtime stories to herself growing up, the girl who has everything—everything except a family that loves her more than their careers and supports her unfailingly?

Facing the mirror, you reach for your purse and pull out the small makeup pouch so that you can erase any evidence of the sadness you feel today, brimming with the unshed tears of yesterday, and prepare your battle face to go back out there and be cordial as the runner up. Another battle you’ll face alone.

Part 4: College at BTS-U

“Welcome to Jin’s Diner, have a seat wherever you’d—what the fuck are you doing here?”

The chiming of the door opening caught your ear, so you’d turned to greet the newest customer, except instead of an overly tired trucker or a group of post-clubbing college students, you’re faced with one Jeon Jungkook.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” he asks, eyebrow pitched and smirk full of snark.

“No, I kiss your father with this mouth. Now get out.” You go back to wiping down the counters, ignoring the stare of your arch-nemesis as you finish cleaning.

“Now, now, Baby Cakes, let your new coworker into the diner so you can finally get the help you've been asking for.”

You turn to the owner’s son, Kim Seokjin, mouth gaping open in confusion. “Coworker? I thought you read through the notes I made on all of the applicants?”

“Yes, I did, and they were very helpful. He’ll be working nights with you, so show him to the back while I grab a lock for his locker and a uniform.”

“Sir—”

“Now, Cakes.”

Seokjin disappears into the hallway towards his office, and you turn back to Jungkook, who’s standing smugly with his arms crossed watching you.

“Ugh, keep up, small fry.”

Jungkook’s black boots squeak along the freshly mopped floor as he hustles to catch up with you. The doorway behind the counter opens into the kitchen, where the two line cooks, Hoseok and Yoongi, work diligently. Hoseok is sitting next to the recently delivered products with a clipboard in hand as he counts the items, while Yoongi is wiping down his area before the rush begins. You clear your throat loudly to gather their attention.

“We have a new waiter, his name is Jeon Jungkook, but he shall go by Small Fry, I think.” The smile on your face is devilish, and the two men snicker as they take in the newbie rushing in behind you.

“Wait, why am I ‘Small Fry’?” he asks, only a little out of breath from having to round the counter and catch up to you.

“Because everyone who works here gets called a food nickname, helps with the creeps, especially on nights.”

“I’m Suga,” Yoongi greets, “and this here is Hobi-Honey, but we just call him Hobi for short.”

“And I’m Baby Cakes, as you heard bossman say.”

“What’s your real name again, Small Fry?” Yoongi asks, his platinum hair shining in the fluorescent kitchen lights.

“It’s Jungkook,” he answers, emphasizing his name as he glares at you.

“Hmm, Baby Cakes, I think he might be better suited to Cooky…”

“Isn’t that too close to his name?” you argue, hoping to keep Small Fry, but when you see Hobi shake his head, you know you’ve lost.

“Fine, Cooky it is then! Next new hire will be called Small Fry no matter what!” you concede, waving Jungkook to follow you towards the back of the kitchen.

He trails you quietly as you push a swinging wooden door with a circular window in it and lead him into the employee lounge. Seokjin is whistling to himself as you enter, twirling a metal lock around his finger. You look around the room, surprised at how quickly he had everything ready.

“Great, you met Suga and Hobi then?” he asks, nodding at the door you just entered.

“Yes, I figured it would be best to do that first on the way here.”

“So, Jungkook—”

“He’s Cooky,” you interrupt, but Seokjin just shakes your rudeness off.

“—Cooky, this here’s the lounge. The door you just entered is used while you’re on shift for breaks and such. When you arrive for your shift and leave for the night, it should always be through the door behind me.” He gestures to a purple-handled door. “To the left are the employee cubbies, and to the right, we have the laundry station, small kitchenette, and door to the staff bathroom.”

You nod at the TV mounted on the wall next to the swinging door. “The remote always stays on this table,” you tap the main table in the room that seats six, “and we typically keep the TV on ESPN, MTV, or my personal favorite, HGTV.”

“Thank you, Cakes. Now, your Jin’s Diner gear stays here, we’ll wash it for you after each shift you work.” Seokjin points to a stacked washer and dryer in the corner. “Just throw it in the wash after your shift each night. We’ll put it back in your cubby for you once dry.”

Jungkook nods, but he looks a bit overwhelmed from all of the information. You take the lead and sit down first hoping he’ll follow you. You know Seokjin talks fast and moves through the employee information even faster, and despite not liking Jeon Jungkook, you need the help on your shift since Mochi quit to focus on his last semester.

You grab a permanent marker and white label from the center of the table, tossing it across to Jungkook with a little more force than necessary.

“We each have a cubby, with a small locker inside. Use this to write your name and then claim an empty spot, and you can also write your name on the tags of your uniform.”

Seokjin grabs plastic-wrapped clothing articles from the cabinet next to the laundry station and approaches the table, too, tossing down the new clothing.

“Your gear. Shirt, apron, and a ballcap. If you want a visor instead, let me know. Black, khaki, or blue jeans, black non-slip shoes, keep the blingy jewelry at home.”

“Dammit, I was planning to choke him with his chain after the first shift.”

Seokjin levels his gaze at you, and you know you’re pushing your limits with him.

“I’ll have you follow Baby Cakes around to learn the drill for taking orders, but mostly you’ll be bussing tables tonight. I’ll work on the final processing of your paperwork in the meantime. Cakes, come with me while he changes.”

You follow Seokjin out of the lounge and back towards the office. He opens the door and steps back to allow you to enter first, shutting the door behind him as he follows you into the room.

“You need to tone it down. I know you said that you and he have some bad blood, but we need the help and he’s the best applicant we have.”

“It’s deeper than that, Jinnie, he’s literally been tormenting me since elementary school. We work with heavy-duty machinery and cutlery. You might come in one morning to find that one of us has stabbed the other to death.” You push out your bottom lip and give him your best, roundest, watery puppy eyes. “Is that what you really want?”

“What I want is to have a fully staffed evening shift so that my best girl can stop having bags under her eyes and complaining about her feet hurting every shift.” Seokjin smiles teasingly at you. “Plus, you need a good annual review to get a raise, and training new employees looks good to the owner.”

“Your dad is the owner! You can just tell him to give me a raise!”

“I could…but this is so much more fun. Who knows, he’s kinda hot…maybe you find out that the reason he’s picked on you your whole life is because he has a crush on you.”

“That fallacy is just a way for the patriarchy to continue to push abuse acceptance and the ‘boys will be boys’ agenda.” You cross your arms, but overall you know Seokjin is right. You’ve always prided yourself on being able to adapt well to situations, put a fake smile on when you need to deal with rude customers or your parents missing another monumental event in your life. “But fine. At work, it’ll be a ceasefire. That’s about all I can promise you.”

“I thought you said there would be a ceasefire!” Seokjin yells at you from where you sit in his office. Jungkook is seated next to you, slouching in the chair with his head turned away towards the wall. You can see his jaw clenching every few seconds as Seokjin continues berating you. “Instead, I got a call from a family friend that you two were so busy yelling at each other for not doing your jobs that you effectively stopped doing your job!”

You huff as you roll your eyes, turning away from Jungkook’s severely hot—no—aggravating jawline, (where did that thought even come from?) to respond to Seokjin.

“That’s not even what happened last night! This idiot decided to fuck with the seating and of course, since the big game is tomorrow, we had a lot of people stop in and it was noisy. I was trying to seat the guests who were being louder and rowdier on one side so that our regulars,” you glare at Jungkook, who’s still refusing to look at either you or Seokjin, “could dine in peace, but when I ran to the back to restock the napkins for the bar top, he seated people himself. He’s not the host. He’s still a newbie! It’s been, what? Three, four months?”

“...Four,” Jungkook mumbles, but you ignore it.

“And so then poor Mrs. Hana ended up dealing with the hooligans who disrupted her meal, and yes, it was when I was trying to explain to him how seating works—”

“I know how seating works, it’s not rocket science!”

“So then why would you mess with the flow of the diner and seat them there?!”

“Because you,” Jungkook finally breaks the stoic act and turns to face you abruptly, so much so you almost visibly jump, “kept seating the large groups in your sections, which meant that you were giving yourself the better tips and leaving me with the geriatrics who barely leave anything!”

“Are you serious? You think I was trying to take tips from you? I hate dealing with the sports crowd! I would have gladly traded with you if you had said something to me, but you were too busy ignoring me when I was trying to talk to you about dividing up the floor—”

“—you talk to me like I’m a child, so of course I was ignoring you, you dolt—”

“—really piss me off, you think I would stoop so low, probably because it’s what you would do—”

“Shut up, both of you!” Seokjin’s eyes have a hardness to them you are not used to seeing. He’s usually laid back, but the stress lines on his face speak to an underlying tension you aren’t aware of. “Look,” he takes a deep breath, rubbing his hand over his eyes briefly, “this can’t happen again. Mrs. Hana could’ve broken her hip slipping on the spilled soda, and her son is debating suing us. My dad is obviously handling this situation, but that means your jobs are on the table. If her son demands it in exchange to avoid a lawsuit, I can’t stop it.”

It settles on you at that moment, how severe this is. You know that the little, old lady regular slipped and fell, but both you and Jungkook rushed over to help her up, comping her meal and walking her outside to sit quietly and assess how she was feeling while waiting for her son to arrive. Not only that, but he didn’t seem mad when he picked her up—just worried about if she was in pain and if she needed to go see a doctor. Apparently, after the shock wore off, his anger set in.

“I’m sorry, Seokjin. It won’t happen again.”

“Get to your shift, I’m sure Nam—I mean Porkchop—is ready to go. Remember, Suga will be late today, the championship game is tonight. So no more ignoring the hooligans and Cooky,” Seokjin gives his leveled glare to Jungkook this time, “Baby Cakes is in charge. I know you’re eager to prove yourself, and you’ve done well so far, but she’s worked the aftermath of championship games before.”

Jungkook stares back at Seokjin, a low humming tension filling the room before he answers with a “Yes, sir.”

The diner is louder than Jungkook’s ever heard before as he goes around clearing tables now that the game is over. His coworker, Yoongi, did amazing from what he saw on the screen. BTS-U wore their white home jerseys with purple and black lettering, so it was easy to see when number 3 hit the game-winning three-pointer.

Now, as the same white jersey is stepping into the diner, all of the fans cheer and bang their cups and silverware to congratulate the MBC Cup National University Basketball Championship’s MVP for the win tonight.

Jungkook looks across the dining area, where he sees you kneeling on the countertop clapping your hands above your head. The uniform dress that you chose for tonight has risen higher up your thigh than normal—probably from the way you climbed up onto the counter—giving Jungkook a pretty good view of the skin leading up to what he’s sure are lace panties. He’s walked in on you changing one too many times to not know your preference.

He can’t look away from you; something about the sheer energy radiating off of you is magnetic, as if you’re lit from within, and before he knows it, he’s moving closer to you. Jungkook knows he can’t stand you personally, but physically? He’ll never admit this aloud—not since Taehyung almost told you the truth back in elementary school— but you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

He doesn’t have much time to ponder your looks as you bring two fingers to your lips and let out a loud wolf whistle, setting you off balance with the action. Luckily he’s already been pulled into your orbit, because he catches you with two strong hands on your waist before you can fall off the counter.

“Thanks, Cooky!” you say, eyes alight and voice pleasant, as if you’ve forgotten who Jungkook is to you, and who you are to him.

“No problem, Baby Cakes.” Jungkook helps you climb down, and when you bend forward to place your palms on the counter to dismount, he sees his hypothesis on your panties is right. His eyes remain on your ass as you extend a leg to the floor, and despite the trouble the two of you got into before your shift, Jungkook can’t seem to care to remember why he shouldn’t be enjoying the view.

“Congrats, Suga!” Jungkook watches as you launch yourself into Yoongi’s arms, giving him a loud smooch on the cheek.

“Thanks, Cakes, that last shot was for you.” He winks, and Jungkook doesn’t understand why he’s feeling so affected, but he wants to blame it on those panties you unknowingly flashed for the irritation he feels toward his friend for flirting with you. She’s your enemy, Kook, get it the fuck together.

Jungkook stalks away, grabbing his bussing bin and rag so he can clean up the table of the group in line to pay.

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“Fuck you and your sorry-ass school!”

Jungkook turns his head to see you standing feet shoulder-width apart with your arms crossed, looking so much like the evil bitch he’s come to know. Only this time, it’s directed towards an EXO-U fan, by the looks of the silver and black shirt he’s sporting.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

You command the space well, and had the man been sober, he probably would have listened to you when you gave him the polite option to leave on his own two feet. As luck would have it, the man grew more belligerent with each passing moment, causing Jungkook to run and grab Yoongi from the back to help handle the situation. Jungkook doesn’t like what he’s hearing when he returns to the front.

“You dumb cunt, we don’t have to leave! Come over here, baby, suck my cock like you suck their players, bet that’s why they won, huh? Saw you all over their star player earlier, let me get a piece, bitch.”

Jungkook wants to lunge at the man, but Yoongi beats him to the table, effortlessly grabbing the man by his arm and neck to yank him from his booth seat.

Jungkook gets to his other side, helping the man walk towards the double glass doors as Yoongi mutters menacingly at the patron.

“Best not show your face around here again, if you know what’s good for you. Find another place to eat, and we won’t beat your ass.”

Yoongi lets go of the man once they clear the sidewalk into the parking lot, the man’s friends stumble out behind, but Jungkook shoves the man hard, and he falls to the ground. He feels no remorse for the man; he reminds him too much of the creeps his mom dealt with: stench of alcohol on their breath that grew with each vulgar word that rolled out of their mouths, animosity leeching from their greasy skin—Jungkook needs to wash his hands and splash his face.

Fleeing inside, he bypasses you cleaning up the mess the rowdy table left behind, unable to hear the words you say clearly enough to decipher them. He knows that it’s almost time to close up and he has a few tasks to do to help speed up the process, but he’ll get to them in a minute. He just needs a minute to shake off this feeling, and then he’ll be okay to do the final cleaning for the evening, and find out what you said.

You’ve always hated dealing with the championship game guests, but always loved being with the crowd because of the thrill and your love for the game. The shift wasn’t terrible work-wise, as Jungkook really pulled his weight throughout the shift, allowing you to be in charge as the hostess and main waitress, filling in where you needed and bussing tables as the guests rotated through the double doors.

And you can’t lie, when you almost lost your balance on the counter, it was kind of hot that he was there to catch you, and help you down safely. With his jawline that can cut glass and his warm hands sitting large on your hips, you were a little sad to have them drop away, but you hid your disappointment in congratulating Suga and then moved on with the shift.

Of course, such a perfectly good shift had to end with a douchebag. To your surprise, when you turn to look to Jungkook for help, he’s already approaching with Suga in tow. And damn your worst enemy if he doesn’t do the second hottest thing of the night, vanquishing the drunkard with the sailor’s mouth from your sight, his foul friends trailing behind.

You clear off the table, the half-eaten food discarded in the trash and you realize that it needs to be taken out now before the last of the tables are done. Jungkook speed walks past you, so you call out to him, “Cooky, take the trash out, please!”

You finish sweeping under the table, then wipe down the booth’s table as Suga also returns inside, pausing to check on you.

“Everything good, Cakes?”

You nod, placing a hand on your hip as you reflect on the incident. “Yeah, he was a real fuck boy, but you and Cooky saved me just in time.”

“Always…I’m surprised Cooky was so worked up when he called me from the kitchen. Usually you two are at each other’s throats, I would’ve thought he’d enjoy seeing you deal with a rude customer.”

“Well, we did get yelled at earlier by Jin for last night, so we promised to work together and drop whatever rivalry we have during working hours. So maybe that’s it.”

“Mmm…maybe. Well, let me go help Hobi, this last wave will keep us later if I don’t.” Yoongi takes a few steps to round the counter, then calls back out to you, “The trash is about to overflow, Cakes!”

Frowning, you notice that Jungkook has yet to return to take out the trash. Glancing around the room, you see most of the tables are in stages of eating or waiting for their food. They all seem well and distracted with clips from the post-game coverage, so you decide to take out the trash yourself. Maybe the truce between you and Jungkook isn’t as intact as you think.

Grumbling to yourself, you tie off the bag and lift it from the bin, foot angled to keep the wheels from sliding across the floor from the tug. You eye the replacement black bag, but decide to put it in once you return from the dumpster.

You hate taking out the trash; you love feminism but some tasks are just made for men. You refuse to use the loud trolley with the janky wheel, so you carry the bag gingerly, resting it down every few steps as you make your way across the sparsely lit back parking lot.

“Well, if it isn’t the bitch who didn’t let me finish my meal.”

You snap your head around, eyes roving for the source of the raspy words, finally landing on the douchebag discharged from the diner only 10 minutes ago.

“We didn’t charge you for it, so I suggest you leave before this turns into a real problem.” You keep your eyes on him, watching as he shifts around on his feet, inching closer to you. You hold your stance, refusing to look weak in case he decides you’d make a good target.

“Maybe if you come suck me off like a good girl, I won’t leave a bad review online about how much of a cunt you’re being. Matter of fact, throw in some pussy, let me fuck you properly and I bet all that attitude will drop. You just need someone to tame you.”

The man lunges for your left arm, his meaty fist closing around your wrist and you pull back to break the contact but he’s strong. You yell out, stumbling back away from the trash bag and he follows, heavy footfalls adding to the sounds of the evening.

“Let go, you freak!”

You jolt your arm, wrenching it in as many directions as you can to try and relax his grip but he pulls you closer to him until you can smell the ethanol on his breath as he places his other hand forcefully on your shoulder.

“I said I wanted you on your knees, stupid bitch,” he utters, and reflexively you punch him in his dick. He groans and releases you, hunching over in pain. You make out a figure stepping through the service door, and you call out for help. Attempting to step around the man, you only make it a few steps before you feel the weight of the man bearing down on you again.

“You stupid bitch!”

You try to run, but the man has the back of your dress in his grip so instead, your shoes scrape the asphalt in the same place repeatedly. A loud thwack of flesh on flesh sounds right before you’re released, dropping the short distance to the concrete. Your palms and knees feel the sting of the gravel but the relief of being out of the man’s hold overpowers any lingering pain as you scramble to your feet.

Behind you, Jungkook is pummeling the man in the face, and you pause for a moment in shock before you rush back to him, grabbing his bicep to stop him from swinging again.

“Cooky, stop, I’m okay! Jungkook!”

He freezes, turning to look at you as if to see if your statement is true, and seeing that you’re serious, he appears to deflate a bit, no longer an attacking watchdog but a protective knight, making sure his charge is unscathed.

“Let’s go.” He gestures for your hand and you place yours in his, letting him guide you away from the groaning sack of trash and the garbage bag on the ground.

The fluorescent lights of the break room are blinding after the darkness of outside. Vaguely you hear Jungkook yelling at the others working, followed by the clattering of kitchen items, but you’re so out of sorts you don’t even realize that Jungkook has maneuvered you into a chair and is gently checking your knees, palms, and arms. He brushes off the remaining dirt from your skin.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

His voice sounds pained, and this pulls you from your thoughts and back to the present with him.

“Um, I don’t think so.”

“Where all did he touch you? It might not hurt now, but once the adrenaline dies off, you might feel it.”

“Um, my arm, my shoulder, I can’t…I don’t know.”

“It’s okay, let me check your neck…he grabbed your dress and pulled you, so I wanna make sure it won’t bruise.”

He takes your face in his hands delicately, tilting your head to expose your neck to his view. The proximity has your head spinning, his cologne enveloping you as he leans closer, a hand leaving your cheek to allow a finger to trail across your neckline. You know he’s just checking to make sure that there’s no lingering marks, but you don’t think that the after effects of tonight will be anything anyone can see. He grabs a glass of water for you, and you sit quietly while he tends to the minor cuts on your palms from the jagged gravel in the parking lot.

Time seems to pass as you’re deep in thought, but you’re not sure how much until Seokjin appears, his purple and white painted face replacing the doe eyes and clenched jaw. He looks frazzled, as if he just left an after-party for the championship and was pulled into work. You realize after a moment that that’s actually what happened, and chuckle at yourself. He says your real name, pulling you out of your laughter.

“I’m so sorry this happened, luckily Jungkook was there. I don’t know what I would've done if something happened to you.” Seokjin pulls you into a hug, and you reciprocate, squeezing him tighter as the feeling of being held feels good. He pulls away sooner than you like, but he continues talking to you about what’s been going on since you’ve been sitting in the employee lounge.

“Look, don’t worry about staying and cleaning up tonight, okay? We’ve got everything under control. Hobi called the cops and Yoongi made sure the guy didn’t flee before they came. He’s in their custody now.”

“What about Jungkook?” you ask, uncharacteristically using his given name.

“He’s giving his statement to the police now. They’ll want to talk to you too, but I can put it off for tonight if you need,” Seokjin offers kindly, but you want to get it over with.

“It’s okay, I’ll speak to them now.”

“If you’re sure. I’ll grab one of the detectives now and they can take your statement, and then I’m sending you home. Jungkook will drive you, okay? You’re still a bit shaky.”

You look down at your hands, seeing the tremble Seokjin is referencing and nod. There’s no use in putting up a fight. All of the men you work with have now proven that you’re safe with them. Seokjin walks over to the door, popping his head out to call for an officer, and he paces quietly as you recount what happened, starting with the attacker growing belligerent in the dining area. Once finished, Seokjin grabs Jungkook from where he’s talking with Yoongi outside the door, ushering him to take your belongings and get you home.

You follow along, compliant, waving goodbye to the others as Jungkook pulls off into the main road back towards campus.

“You live by BTS-U, right?”

“Yeah, at Omelas, next to the train tracks.”

Neither of you speak again until he parks, turning off the engine to his jeep.

“Here, let me help you.” Jungkook grabs your backpack and climbs out of the SUV, coming around to the passenger side door to open it for you. You jump out and lead the way to your first -floor apartment. Unlocking the door, you flip on the lights as you toe off your non-slip work shoes.

“My roommate is out of town visiting her parents this weekend.”

Dumping your purse onto the kitchen counter, you walk further into your home, Jungkook trailing you slowly. He kicks off his shoes, socks shuffling quietly along the carpet as he enters your living room after closing and securing the front door lock. He places your backpack on the couch, and the two of you stand there awkwardly.

“Um, do you want some water or something? I have juice, milk, beer…” you trail off, uncertain.

“Water is fine, thanks.”

You grab a glass from the cupboard, filling it with ice water to return the favor from earlier as you bolster your courage to thank him. You hand him the glass and before you can think too hard, you just start speaking.

“Jungkook, I just wanted to thank you, for coming out there and, you know, saving me. I know we don’t get along much, but you really came through and I appreciate it.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen, blinking up at you from where he’s sitting on your couch. He takes a long sip from the glass, and he seems uncertain if he wants to speak but does so anyway.

“It was nothing, really.”

“Why, um, why did you help me, I mean—I’m just saying, oh this is coming out wrong—”

“Look, I’ve had a lot of practice dealing with creeps like him. I’ve had to do it plenty for my mom, and I just don’t like to see anyone getting hurt, not even my arch nemesis.” Jungkook tries to joke it off at the end, but his tone reveals so much more to you about what he’s not saying.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was like that for you back in high school.” You sit down next to him, closer than you normally would with your backpack taking up part of the seat, but you don’t mind it. You feel safer being closer to him.

“I mean, why would you know?” he asks, leaning back into the couch and taking another sip. “You have a perfect family, I’m sure nothing like this happened on the weekly at your place.”

“No, but like, my perfect family isn’t what everyone thinks it is, either. My parents didn’t pay attention to me, always busy working and what not. Honestly career day, back in like fifth grade was the only time one of my parents made it to something, and even then, it was so my dad could advertise his business. I felt so sheltered growing up, like I had no life skills. It’s why I work at the diner.”

Jungkook digests your words, understanding blooming through his chest.

“I get that. It’s funny, I remember that day so well, I was so jealous of you, because your dad showed up for you. I guess our dads are the same though…I think if I had grown up with my parents still together, I would’ve felt like you do. My dad kind of left me behind when he remarried, you know? In a way, that made me less sheltered, because when I was with my mom, I had to grow up fast. I couldn’t always have the nicest things because she couldn’t always afford them.”

“I didn’t realize that you had to split time between them. One of my friends, Jimin? He told me about how your dad wouldn’t let you take things back and forth between houses.”

“Why did he do that?” Jungkook looks a little scandalized, and you’re sure it’s because Jimin is one of his best friends. He’s the one who recommended that he apply to Jin’s Diner in the first place, and how you knew to warn Jin to not hire Jungkook, not that it worked. “I didn’t know you were close with Jimin!”

“We used to work together…you actually replaced him. It’s why we were hiring in the first place. But, he told me that because he was trying to get me to ease up on you one day. I was complaining about something and he was trying to make you more human, I guess.”

Jungkook just nods. You know he probably realizes there’s no reason to be mad, it was all in the past and Jimin was coming from a good place when he revealed that.

“Well, it’s true. My dad is kind of the worst. My mom saved up to get me some Dunks back in middle school because my dad couldn’t be bothered to take me back to school shopping. As if I didn’t grow a foot and 3 shoe sizes.”

“Oh fuck, you know, I’m sorry for making Nayeon spill her drink on your shoes. That was really evil of me.”

“We were like 13? 14? All middle school girls are evil.” Jungkook chuckles. You’re relieved at how gracious he’s being, but a little annoyed. You turn to him to say as much, but he continues to speak. “Honestly, I don’t even know why we went toe to toe like that. We probably would’ve been best friends if we had combined our smarts. You were really great during the Youth of the Year competition. I’m sorry that you didn’t win, I think you deserved to.”

Jungkook is looking back at you now, with his pretty doe eyes, sitting so close to you. You don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, instead focusing on his star-filled eyes and the way they’re staring into your own. His arm moves slowly, lifting to bring his hand to your face, curling a tendril of hair behind your ear.

“It’s getting pretty late now, I should get home,” he starts, but his eyes speak volumes and it doesn’t seem like he wants to leave just yet. “But there’s still one more thing I need to apologize for.”

Your eyebrows furrow, confused as to what incident it could be when his lips meet yours in a tender kiss, not too forceful but not shy either—just the right amount to let you know this isn’t a mistake. It takes you a few seconds to respond, but when you sense Jungkook about to move away you pull him in closer, keeping his lips where you can access them. It’s not enough though, so throwing caution to the wind, you straddle him as your tongue swipes for entry, pushing him further into the couch as you lean into his fit body. He groans at your boldness, large hands planted firmly on your ass as the kiss deepens. You feel dangerously high, lacking oxygen, but you can’t stop—you don’t want to stop. He’s intoxicating.

His fingers tighten imperceptibly, and you know he, too, is at the end of his air, so you break apart, chest heaving as you stare at his lips, red and plump from the kiss.

“That was your…apology for? Or you were…apologizing for…kissing me?” you pant, trying to catch your breath.

“Both?” he says with a cute, bunny-like smile, “one, for hating you all these years, and two, for kissing you out of the blue.”

“And if I want you to apologize to me more?” you half-question, half-goad, and Jungkook gives the right answer, leaning into you once more so he can kiss you hard, teeth nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away.

“That’s something I can do.” Jungkook uses his strength to flip you onto your back on the couch, knocking your backpack out of the way and onto the floor. “Is this okay?” He searches your eyes for your consent to his hands on your thighs, fingertips skimming the hem of your dress.

You nod, and he trails them higher until he’s grasping the band of your panties and sliding them down without haste. You enjoy the commanding presence he takes on, unlike the people you deal with on a daily at work, indecisive with what to order, he knows exactly what he wants, and when Jungkook pushes up your dress and buries his face between your thighs, it takes everything in you not to climax right then. His tongue flits around your clit, teasing you as his hands massage your thighs while keeping them wide for him.

“Jungkook,” his name is a breathy whisper in the air as your fingers curl around his locks, tightening your grip when he flicks closer to where you need him. “Please.”

You wiggle your hips, searching for more friction from his tongue but he just pulls away, tutting his tongue at you for being bad. You sit up slightly to glare at him.

“Patience, baby.”

Whining, you lay back on the couch with a huff. “This is why we hated each other bac—oh, fuck me,” you finish with a moan as he flattens his tongue across your pussy and stimulates every nerve he can cover. Wrapping his lips around your clit, he begins to suck, gently flicking his tongue every few seconds as he positions two fingers at your dripping center. Delving inside of you, the plunge of his fingers reaches the ache inside of you, causing your legs to tremble as he fine-tunes your body like an instrument.

“Feels so good, mmph, fuck,” is all you can manage to say as he continues to pump his fingers, the squelching of your walls suctioning them back in with every tug out only making you wetter. Jungkook hums, and the thrumming sensation curls your toes. Arching your back, you tug his hair hard as you mewl loudly from the impending orgasm.

“You can do it, baby, cum for me,” Jungkook praises, “you’re doing so well, squeezing my fingers so tight, watch me.”

When his mouth once again finds its rhythm on your core, it takes just a few seconds of making eye contact with Jungkook, doe-eyes wide as he watches you enjoy his tongue, before you shiver and melt into the euphoria he’s bringing to your body.

“That’s it, fuck—you look so pretty, baby.”Body spent, you stare up at the ceiling blinking as you come back to earth. Jungkook tucks himself behind you, holding you in his arms. You look down at the arm over your waist, your fingers lightly tracing the tattoos on his exposed full sleeve. You can feel his bulge, know that there’s so much more…apologizing you both need to do after years of being enemies, but you have all night for that. And in the morning, you don’t know what will happen, if there will be more to come after tonight, but what you do know is that at this moment you don’t hate Jungkook; not even a little bit, not even at all.

🍽️🍽️🍽️

thank you for reading!!!

1K notes · View notes

wooahaes · 2 months

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taste test

pairing: non-idol!jun x gn!reader

prompt: soulmate au series. 11/13

word count: 3.9k~

warnings: major food mentions throughout the entire fic!! mentions of reader being impulsive at some points.

daisy’s notes: i love when i get to write jun just being a sweetie btw

summary: Jun has grown accustomed to the way his soulmate eats. He hopes they don’t hate him for the way he snacks and sneaks bites of his cooking, or for the way he experiments in the kitchen sometime. But running a restaurant means he’s constantly evolving the menu… So if it leads the two of you together, then that’s good, right?

Jun turned ten years old and was… upset, to say the least, that he didn’t have a soulmate. His mother had smoothed his hair back gently and told him not to worry. If he didn’t have a soulmate, it would change nothing about him. He was still the smart little guy she had raised so lovingly, and it took nothing away from his worth. And if he did have a soulmate, then hopefully he would find them one day if so he chose. She supported him wholeheartedly, and Jun would look back on the memory with nothing but undying love for his mother for handling the situation so well. Of course, it took a few days for Jun to realize that the flavors he kept tasting on the back of his tongue were more than just cravings and his imagination… but that didn’t change the gentle comfort his mother had given him. She’d held his hand at the doctor, too, and throughout the tests to make sure that all was well with him.

His doctor had straightened up the papers on his desk—results of said tests, no doubt—and looked at Jun’s mother. “It’s the most common sign,” he said, and relief crossed her face immediately. “But it still happens.”

His mom had questions. Jun just focused on the lemon-flavored lollipop he’d been given, mind wandering a bit. Apparently, it was common enough for doctors to hand them out to kids to soften the blow of whatever came next in visits like this. Soulmates were normal enough, but Jun knew as much as his mother that some people had… less ideal soulmate marks. One of his classmates felt her soulmate’s pain (sometimes so bad that she cried, the feeling so new to someone with only so many years of life lived). One of his teacher’s had yet to meet her soulmate at the beginning of the year, only for sparks to literally fly when she ran into a new member of staff an hour later. None of his classmates had been hurt by the slight shock, but Jun couldn’t imagine having a mark like that—even if his teacher swore that it just felt soothing. Adults lied to kids all the time just to put on a brave face, after all.

It’d been a lie to say that Jun’s sign had no influence on him and his life. He had learned to cook alongside his mother and step-father so that he could take care of himself in the future, yes… but it did help him when he was trying to figure out what his soulmate was eating. His taste buds matured more and more with age, and eventually he liked to think he had a pretty solid understanding of what his soulmate was eating. He could pick out the sweetness of vanilla ice cream on apple pie, the buttery crust and cinnamon and ginger and nutmeg pointing him in the right direction. He knew the umami of different meats and the savory sauces they were cooked in. He had to adapt sometimes based on what he had available… but Jun would meet those cravings he felt, just to understand his soulmate a little better. Not that anyone complained when he did: his family adored his cooking, his friends loved a free meal, and his coworkers weren’t going to turn down leftover cookies and whatnot when he brought them in during his work study job in college. What was the point in making so much food if he couldn’t ensure the people he cared for were well fed?

That was what led him to dropping out of one school (sorry, dreams of being an actor) and pursuing culinary school in the end. He went through years of long hours and endless studying just to end up where he was now: standing in front of an empty building, arms folded across his chest. A few of his friends stood there with him, admiring the place he was officially renting out. It had taken a while to save up and get approved for loans and square away all of the business side of things (and even still, he had orders to make and so, so much more work ahead of him)... But holding the keys in his hand made it all real.

This was step one of many for finding his place. And if it led his soulmate to him, then he would be happy.

Everything was wrong, and Jun couldn’t figure out what the problem was.

The restaurant was doing well, thankfully. He wasn’t in the red, although business could be better. People liked having authentic Chinese cuisine, and Jun was more than happy to provide it and share more of his heritage… and occasionally pack a takeout container a little more full for the college student who looked on the edge of a breakdown. But the restaurant could be doing better, making more money, and that meant he needed to make adjustments. He’d gone over survey cards, trying to figure out what needed to be fixed, and that was what led him to now. He’d been cooped up in his apartment for days now, trying to perfect a dish from his childhood that he couldn’t get right. Mingyu was sitting at the counter, muttering something to Minghao as the two (alongside Seokmin) tried to figure out what element was missing from it all. Seokmin suggested something sweet, but Jun had shot it down when Seokmin suggested a little more sugar: he’d already tried adjusting the amount, sorry. He’d even tried brown sugar, honey, and plenty of other alternatives, just to see if maybe he’d been going in the wrong direction.

One of his arms was draped over his eyes as he laid across the couch. What was missing…? He could call his mom, but part of him wanted to figure it out for himself. The answer was right there on the tip of his tongue, his lips almost tingling in the strangest way.

“It feels like it should be obvious,” Seokmin sighed, toying with the bracelet around his wrist. “Shouldn’t it be?”

It was. It had to be. That was why it was so infuriating. Jun turned over with another sigh, shutting his eyes. It was as if the answer was burning within him now, yet still out of reach.

“Maybe it isn’t sweet,” Mingyu picked up another piece of chicken, holding it up to the light for a moment, as though it’d give him the answer. “It’s already sweet as it is… I don’t think making it sweeter would help.”

That burning had traveled to the back of his tongue now, and he jerked up. Wait a second. What the hell was his soulmate eating? He knit his brow together, frowning. This wasn’t the time for them to be messing around with some spice challenge—and judging by the cold, mild taste that subdued that heat, that must have been what they were doing. Yet once the taste of milk had disappeared, the burning was already back. What the hell was his soulmate doing? That mild taste washed over his tongue again after a moment, only to be followed again by a heat that nearly made his eyes water.

Jun tore off of the couch, immediately rushing to the cabinets. That cooling sensation hit him again, and the burning never came back, but Jun could see great, big neon signs when they were right in front of him. He’d added a little to begin with, but maybe…

“Jun?” Minghao watched as Jun pulled a container from the cabinet, making his way over to the pot. “What are you?”

He mixed in more red pepper flakes, far more than he’d done the first time. “It’s not spicy enough.”

Seokmin blinked in confusion, looking from Jun to the other two friends present. “I thought it wasn’t supposed to be that spicy.”

“It’s still supposed to have a kick,” Minghao said, sniffling. Of course Minghao wouldn’t have caught it: the poor guy was still recovering from a cold. “Jun, I thought you—”

Jun tested the sauce, shutting his eyes… and there it was. How the hell did you…? Maybe you were like him and understood food, too. Or maybe you remembered the previous times he’d eaten this dish and realized it wasn’t burning your mouth enough. The only real question that remained was what the hell did you decide to eat? He paused, wondering if you were out there, eating raw peppers or squirting hot sauce into your mouth just to send him a sign. He paused, looking down at the bottle of red pepper flakes. Now that he was thinking about it, the taste was exactly what he was looking for—

No. You didn’t. No. He looked up, brows raising as he processed this new theory. Some people could handle red peppers well, but apparently you couldn’t (at least not raw) considering you had to douse the capsaicin with milk or something quickly to try and spare yourself that pain. All of it was just to send him this signal that something was missing and you knew what it was. He found himself smiling. He hadn’t even met you yet, and already he was a little endeared to you.

He returned the favor to you later, though. The cravings hit him in that weird way that made him feel like you were taste testing, and Jun didn’t think twice before shoving half a lemon into his mouth. He’d recognize the dish you were making later, but he didn’t care about the weird looks that the others had given him. Minghao, who knew the deal, had given him this look that was a mix of understanding and downright disgust.

Seungcheol had sighed, getting up from the table. “You’re so weird,” he said, making his way to the kitchen to get the other lemons. “Those were supposed to be a palate cleanser…”

He’d apologized profusely afterward, not realizing that people had paid him any attention, but he hoped you appreciated his help. Maybe he couldn’t help you directly in the way he’d begun yearning to… but he was fine with making a fool of himself like this to help you in return. After all, that’s what a soulmate was for… Right?

“Jun.”

So maybe it was another one of those nights. And maybe Jun messaged the group chat to see who wanted to come with him to get ice cream this late. What was so wrong with that? Soonyoung sat across from him, a cup of sorbet in front of him that he kept pushing around with a pink plastic spoon. Jihoon’s lips were closed around a bright blue one, his frozen yogurt melting in its cup as he watched Jun carefully. And Wonwoo sat beside him, phone in one hand as he held a cone in the other. Jun had carefully picked out every single part of the little sundae that sat in front of him now: the flavor from the back of his tongue, the toppings what he thought you were out there eating on your own sundae… Was this your favorite? Or was it just what you wanted today? He recognized some of the flavors from past times, and yet today the craving was strong enough to drag him out of bed.

“Hm?” A bright green spoon hung from his own mouth, and all he could taste was plastic now. His mind had wandered a bit too much again, but… that was normal when he had his soulmate on his mind. All he wanted to do was meet you and know you. “Yes?”

“You’re thinking about them again,” Wonwoo said in a low, calming voice. There was no accusation in it, no teasing jab at him for getting caught up in silly, sappy thoughts again. Not that his friends teased him for it often—they did, but their teasing was usually saved for Mingyu and Chan and Seungcheol. “Is something on your mind?”

There it was. That’s what they’d all been wondering, after all: the concern was written on their faces, plain as day. Jun pulled the spoon from his mouth, “I’m okay. Just… thinking.”

“About?” Soonyoung’s foot nudged against Jun’s in an attempt to prod more information from him. “You can share if you’d like.”

He pressed his lips together, trying to figure out where to start. He had a lot of thoughts about you—the same as anyone would, right? He knew that you most likely wondered about who he was as a person. “I hope they’re kind.”

No one said anything yet, just to give him more space to speak as he processed his thoughts.

“I think… I used to have all of these ideas for what I wanted in a person. I wanted them to look a certain way, to act a certain way…” He trailed off. “And… I think now I can’t help but think that all I want is someone I can be happy with. Someone who accepts me for me.” He scooped another bit of his ice cream up, pausing for a moment before eating it. “Someone who I can accept, too.”

“You will,” Jihoon spoke up immediately. “Accept them. I think… I think you’ll be happy with them.”

Soonyoung’s eyes crinkled in delight, “They’ve burned their taste buds for you before. I think they’ll be perfect for you.”

It earned a warm chuckle from Jun, smiling to himself again. He always found himself smiling when you were on his mind, and he hadn’t even met you yet. How was he supposed to go through his days when he did meet you? The same way the others did after meeting their soulmates, he assumed. Was it strange to wonder if you were like him? A little odd at times, but warm and caring and silly?

“He’s gone,” Wonwoo gently teased, smiling to himself. His phone lit up a second later from my love and Wonwoo, too, was gone with that bashful look on his face. Wonwoo had never been the kind of person who yelled his love from rooftops, but showed it in the way his eyes always seemed to sparkle a little more, heart fluttering smiles and rosy cheeks to define it.

“You are, too,” Jihoon chuckled. Yet it was Jihoon who quietly loved his soulmate, too, always mindful of their limits in the way they were mindful of him and his limits. Jun had seen them interact a few times, and he saw the way he’d wordlessly take his soulmate’s hand when the crowds were thicker, and didn’t let go when they were through it. Little displays of affection that he’d never comment on, just to spare Jihoon the embarrassment of being called out for it.

Jun watched Soonyoung for a moment, just to be aware of him. Soulmate talk went fine with him most of the time, but everyone knew that Soonyoung (just as Seokmin did) had his moments of insecurity with his own lack of a sign. Yet he was smiling to himself, and immediately jumped to teasing Jihoon for something that he’d said about his soulmate not long ago. It turned the latter’s cheeks bright red as he complained, waving him off. So what if he liked his soulmate? That’s what they were there for, right? They were supposed to be someone that he liked. And yet Wonwoo had chuckled, joining in on the teasing as well.

Jun just smiled to himself, savoring the sweetness of the moment and the ice cream.

For the most part, being friends with Jun meant they had special privileges. When Seungcheol asked if they could all meet up close to closing so he could share some special news (with the promise that at least he would help close up for the night), Jun had agreed easily enough. Not everyone could make it, but Jun carried out a tray of dishes to set in front of those present. Seungcheol had been talking about how different his life felt now that he could see color, no longer relying on which light was lit for traffic lights or asking people for the right color apple. He'd pulled over a chair, breaking into a pair of chopsticks so he could reach out and snag a dumpling while he took a few minutes to rest.

"Also... All of you are terrible!" Seungcheol huffed. "I told Seungkwan first and he immediately started sending me pictures of myself in ugly outfits you all swore went together!"

It earned a snort from Jeonghan, who'd been busy typing something out on his phone. "We didn't do it all the time, you know."

Seokmin was staring at his watch the entire time, and Jun reached out, fingers brushing his bicep. "Are you okay?"

"Just waiting for something," he said. Then he looked up, the realization dawning on him as he shook his head. "Sorry! Sorry, I'm fine. Just..." He looked at the door again. "Waiting."

Seungcheol changed the topic away from the outfits he was debating with Joshua (no, he did not like that neon shirt, thank you), "We're going out on Tuesday, actually. I think you guys will like them..."

Jun smiled to himself. It was nice seeing Seungcheol so at ease. The idea of never meeting his soulmate had been weighing on him for a while now, and even more-so since everyone else seemed to be finding their soulmate over the past year. Before he could join the conversation, he saw Seokmin getting up and heading toward the computer right as the door opened, a little bell jingling. Jun excused himself from the group as Seungcheol continued on about his soulmate, making his way over to the counter.

"Sorry," the customer had said, and Jun had slid the menu across to you without much thought. "My friend, Minho, came here with a couple friends and said you might be able to help?"

Jun just blinked in confusion. "I'm sorry. With...?"

"My soulmate had this dish a few days ago," you rested your hands on the counter, "and I've managed to narrow it down based on a lot of Googling. But there's a couple things I'm not sure about, but Minho said what I kept describing sounded like Chinese food, and--"

Jun waved a hand. "I understand," he said. "I have the same sign."

You sighed in relief. "Good. It's not the rarest sign, but people don't always get it since it’s still uncommon, y'know? Your soulmate must be lucky, though," you drummed your fingers against the counter. "Also... Sorry about coming in this late. I saw you're closing in an hour, and—”

Jun stopped you there. "It's okay," he insisted. "It's what I'm here for. Just tell me what--"

"Jun," Seokmin called out, looking up from the monitor. "There's a request for takeout. I'm gonna confirm it, alright?"

Jun waved him on, and turned back to you. "Sorry. The food...?"

You'd started to rattle off what you'd tasted days ago, saying something about how the craving never fully left you. Jun helped square you away, telling you to sit wherever you'd like and he'd have your food out as soon as he could. He made his way to the computer where Seokmin stood, brows knit tightly together.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, keeping his voice low. "You seem... different."

Seokmin shook his head. "The ticket's on the line," he kept his eyes glued to the screen. "Just... thought I recognized the name."

Jun shrugged it off and went to work, Mingyu having already made his way back into the kitchen to help. Soon enough, several orders have been made and plated. Mingyu walked away, making his way to greet you while Jun uncapped a sharpie with his teeth. Seokmin watched as Jun drew a little cat onto the corner of one of the lids, and then a little flower next to it.

"Someone else could pick up the order," Jun said after capping the marker again. "If you don't want to go."

"No!" Seokmin paused, waving a hand. "I mean--The money is good, and my bike is outside. I'll try to be back to help clean up." He tied the bag after throwing in a few utensils and fortune cookies, pausing before he turned away. "Jun?"

He looked up from where he was tidying things up behind the counter. "Hm?"

Seokmin went to speak, and then turned, gazing at where you sat alone. He shook his head, turning back to Jun. "Actually... Don't worry about it."

Jun was definitely going to call Seokmin in the morning if he didn't make it back before they all left. He watched as he made his way out of the restaurant, waving to the others before going out for a late night delivery, and Jun sighed. Maybe he was having an off day. He'd mention it to Minghao if nothing else, and maybe he'd check on him tonight. He turned, grabbing a rag on his way back into the kitchen so that he could start cleaning up again, only to catch himself freezing once he recognized something.

That blend of spices. The sauce on your meal. He turned, staring at you as he watched you eat in peace. You. He dropped the rag, body moving on its own as if you were a magnet drawing him in. He slowed to a stop, unsure of what to say. You looked up, confused for a moment.

"I think..." His voice came out hoarse and quiet, and he cleared his throat. "I... I was perfecting this recipe a few days ago."

You stared at him. "Huh?"

"This is—This is the improved version," he said, hands curling around the back of an empty chair. Just say it, a voice in his head said. All he needed to say were those three words, and yet they felt lodged in his throat.

"You're...?" You dropped your chopsticks with a gasp, standing up. "You?!"

Jun didn't know whether to be hurt by that or not. "Would you rather I not be—”

"I have eaten so many stupid things for you!" You said, loud enough to get the attention of Jun's friends. "And--And you kept eating stupid things for me when I couldn't get the recipe right!"

He laughed. "I know—"

"Oh my god," you said. "No wonder you were always right. I mean, sometimes it didn't really help because I didn't have the ingredients, but—but you still tried!" You'd laughed, warm and vibrant. "Oh my god—I'm sorry, I just—No wonder you knew what I was talking about."

Jun caught a glimpse of his friends all silently watching, and he waved them off. "I..." His face was burning, and he started patting himself down to find his phone. "I really don't want to talk more in front of my friends."

You glanced over to them, and then nodded. "Yeah! Yeah, sorry, I just—I really should have come with Minho that time, huh?"

"Maybe..." He'd plucked his phone from his back pocket. "I could buy you dinner? If you want—”

"I'd like that," you said, accepting his phone. You punched in your number before adding a little heart emoji by your name. "Now I can go straight to the source for my cravings."

He laughed softly again, holding his phone closer to his chest. "Whatever you want," he said. "Just say the word."

With a smile from you, Jun felt his world change entirely. "I'll hold you to that, chef."

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen imagines #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #junhui imagines #jun x reader #junhui fluff #jun fluff #junhui x reader #wen junhui x reader #wen junhui x you #seventeen fluff

207 notes · View notes

jwirecs · 9 months

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hello, hello! here are my nct recs of august! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

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↳ Hating Mark could almost be considered your part-time job ever since Taeyong adopted him. But on one fateful night, a raging storm strikes, and with Taeyong nowhere to be found, you find yourself seeking an unlikely source of comfort - your annoying cheetah roommate.

Sorry, Who Is Mark Lee? || @dropsofletters💕💔✅

↳ she swore up and down on the night of her graduation as a doctor that she would never work with dr. mark lee. not under any setting. after all, she’s not here for people who get everything served on a silver platter just for being…nice? however, years after their graduation, mark comes back into her life not brushing his hair and talking about a new project that they are supposedly going to be working on for the next three weeks, and all hopes of not working with him die down when she realizes…maybe, she had not truly known who he was. sorry, but who the hell is mark lee?

Anon Request || @yeow6n💕✅💯💯

↳ Anon Req: have you seen the tiktok of a girl who made her boyfriend a little sprout to put on his gaming headset ??? its so cute and reminded me of hyuck 🤏🏻

Concert Tickets || @onyourhyuck💕✅💯

↳ Your boyfriend Donghyuck is a massive Bruno Mar’s fan, so you bought two concert tickets.

I'd Give Up Forever To Touch You || @martiniblues💕✅

↳ while mark is away on tour, you find yourself looking back at old memories of you two. you have grown used to spending these moments alone while mark is gone, but little do you know he is doing the same thing miles and miles away.

Love On Me || @neocitybooty🔞✅

↳ You have to choose between fulfilling the needs of your lovable boyfriend or finishing your work for the day.

Stolen Kisses || @writemekpop🔞💕✅

↳ Sneaking off to have sex is tough with a kid in the house.

Surprise Visit || @mingyuonthemoon🔞💕✅

↳ mark pays you a surprise visit after not seeing each other for awhile

Taking Care Of My Baby || @onyourhyuck💕✅

↳ Your boyfriend Jaemin takes care of you while you’re bed ridden with a fever flu.

Two Makes A Team || @sxcret-garden🔞💕✅

↳ When both your boyfriends distract you by asking you for kisses, one thing leads to another and what you had planned to be some alone time with a good book turns into something even better…

Where Were You || @onyourhyuck🔞💕💔✅

↳ Your sweet loving boyfriend is always by your side during your bad days. What if one day, he can't be there for one of your worst?

Your Red Lipstick || @ihaechans💕✅

↳ Kisses, kisses, kisses. That’s all your boyfriend wants. When you refuse to give him the one thing he craves, he won’t leave you alone, begging and begging until you give in.

Worth A Lie || @ruwriteshour💕💔✅💯💯💯

↳ Always wallowing yourself in self-pity, you start to doubt yourself and you think it's time to end your relationship with Mark with a lie. He'll have no choice but to move on from you. It will work... right?

His Karma || @onyourhyuck🔞💕💔🔄

↳ (no summary, but really do give this one a read!)

Adult Time || @nctsplug02🔞💕✅

↳ Anon Req: hihi i'm not sure if requests are open but can you write more of milf reader with jaemin + sungchan as the kids? ♡

Bruises and Ballet Shoes || @luvyeni🔞💕✅💯

↳ jeno gets into a fight and almost misses your preformance

Close The Door Behind You || @jadeobvi🔞✅

↳ Jeno is your strict older brother who has banded Jaemin from dating you, let alone looking at you. But one night you both can’t take it anymore. All the tension has finally exploded, but you have to be careful. God forbid Jeno hears.

Fever Pitch || @nctsworld🔞💕✅💯💯💯

↳ your world is shaken up (literally) when you meet the handsome man guilty of the accidental baseball smack to your head. after a comforting meet-cute and realization that he’s the city’s ace pitcher, you two go on a date. and by the end of the night, mark thinks he’s falling for you faster than any pitch he’s thrown before.

Forget Me Too || @yutaholic🔞💕💔✅💯💯

↳ Back home after years away, you just want to fulfill your obligations as your best friend’s maid of honor and split. You don’t want to see Johnny, though you are guaranteed to run into him at some point. You broke his heart not too long ago and the last thing he ever said to you was that he hated you. And you don’t blame him.

New Religion || @suhnnyupsidedown🔞✅💯💯

↳ something along the lines of Taeyong being a married professor and him ending up sleeping with one of his students? who also happens to be sleeping with Johnny?

Racer || @smileysuh🔞💕✅💯

↳ You feel like a chew toy caught between two rottweilers, and it kills you to give Jaehyun one last look before turning your back on him, following your brother to his car. Jaehyun is watching you as you get in, and when you close the door, you let out a deep breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “I know, what a killer race,” Johnny grins, starting his engine. “Could have been better though, he could have actually died.”

Sin & Obsession || @onyourhyuck🔞✅💯 (pt 2)

↳ You’re a faithful good girl. You attend church and you stay out of trouble. Mark is a guy that attends your church and what you don’t know is that he’s been obsessed with you for a while…

Two For One || @goldyeokki🔞💕✅

↳ you come home after a long day to your two boyfriends in skimpy maid outfits. while they fussed over you, you had completely forgotten that it was your birthday. good thing that they had something special prepared for you on your day.

Volleyball For Dummies (In Love Edition) || @jaeminvore💕✅

↳ Mark Lee has been called many things. Dedicated was one of them and that dedication lead him into joining NeoTech College's well coveted Women's Volleyball team, the NeoTech Tigers, as their manager in hopes of winning the infamous setter, Y/N's heart. But there was one problem, being academically inclined did not come with the extensive knowledge of anything related to the sport and to put it simply, Mark Lee doesn't know shit about Volleyball.

Boyfriend Material || @mochidoie💕💔✅

↳ Although you and Jaehyun had never spoken a word to each other before this class project, he asks you to be in a fake relationship in order to prove to his longtime crush that he is boyfriend material.

Getting Even || @ofjunemoment🔞💕💔🔄

↳ Haechan is notorious for his pranks. Who can forget about the one time the campus fountain was bleeding red? You were weary of never getting on his wrong side, but when you get to know him better, it seems like behind all that front he's a sweet and caring guy. That is until you get a bucket of water dunked on you straight after he promised he wouldn't pull something on you. You're not only pissed that he had fooled you like this, but that he chose such a simple prank.

Just Friends || @lonelyharmonies💕✅

↳ what happens when you wake up in someone else’s bed after getting drunk in a party?

What The Puck || @choerrypuffs💕💔✅

↳ you hit the university’s star hockey player with your car. shenanigans (and maybe even a little romance) ensue.

Mark Texts || @justalildumbpling💕✅

↳ (just some cute ol mark texts)

NCT 127 Texts || @12926💕✅💯

↳ sending a nude & saying "it wasn't for u"

NCT Dream Texts || @ohmygs-blog💕✅💯

↳ “last night was amazing. oops wrong person”

NCT Dream Texts || @ohmygs-blog💕✅

↳ “sorry can’t hangout w you this month, haven’t gotten paid yet!!!”

NCT Dream Texts || @hugs2doie💕✅

↳ nct dream when you hit them up with a “we need to talk”

NCT Dream Texts || @hugs2doie💕✅

↳ “i was talking to my other boyfriend” prank on the dreamies

Do check out all of the other NCT Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

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gaiathemexicanbeauty · 7 months

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it only takes a taste | mike schmidt x reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none! this is just pure fluff and maybe kind of slowburnish lol

this was loosely based off of it only takes a taste from the waitress musical! :3

idk i just really like the idea of late nights with mike even if he's too tired to even think straight lmao

also don't ask what time period this takes place in, i was born in 2004 and know like 2 things about the 70s-90s or whenever the movie takes place bc its never explicitly mentioned

i also do not regularly bake or cook so do not be afraid to go to my comment section and tell me if something sounds off

i love this man ok, i have said it 1000 times already but i've been in love with him ever since i first saw him when i was like 12 or 13 and was even more so obsessed with rebornica's mike design for YEARS. 12 year old me would have an aneurism if she knew about the fnaf movie

you let out a long yawn, one hand reaching up cover your mouth so as not to potentially ruin the mood of any customers around; granted, there was only two and they were graveyard shifters from somewhere outside of town but customers are customers. you'd been working at sparky's for a couple of months now, figuring it was an easy way to make some cash and keep food on the table. of course, you hadn't accounted for the very long hours that passed where you half debated trying to sneak away since no was around from 2-4:00 am: your boss would kill you, though, and you wanted to stay employed.

soft oldies music plays in the background as you glance over at the clock ticking away on the wall. just as you move to grab a rag to clean the counters for the 5th time during your shift, you hear the bell above the entrance jingle and don't even have to look up to know who it is.

mike wasn't a regular at first, just someone who popped in at random and very quietly asked for a coffee. after a while of starting a new job, he started coming in at almost 11:00 pm everyday and always asking for the same thing: just a plain, black coffee. "seriously?" you had said with a smirk the first time he said his order to you, your eyes widening at the attitude you had just given a customer. fortunately, mike was quick to respond with a tired but good natured laugh, his hands folded in front of him. "i'm all ears if you have other recommendations." he mumbled with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, giving you instant relief.

now, it was just clockwork. "hey." mike sighs with a soft sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes as he takes a seat at a chair by the counter you were standing behind. "coffee machine is kind of acting up tonight, you're gonna have to give it a minute. want anything else while you wait?" you say as you approach the counter, giving him a quick smile. mike is about to decline your offer, his lips parting to say something before his eyes land on something on the farther end of the counter. "what about that? still good?" "you're just in time. i was going to take the rest of it home." you say with a smile, walking over to the cake stand holding an apple pie with only 3 slices left of it. you take the lid off to plate it, handing it over to mike with a hum before bringing him utensils. you don't even get the chance to bring up to him that the slices have been sitting there for a couple of hours, blinking in shock at the way he's quick to start eating.

you turn your back to start taking down the chalkboard advertising the special from the day before, giving mike his one moment of quiet you were sure he needed. you start to think about what your day will consist of once you're done with your shift, dreading having to clean your room before you can actually sleep. "did you make this?" "yeah. why, is it bad?" you say with a chuckle, turning to look at mike again; your eyes widen a bit at the way mike is looking at you, his own eyes looking at you like he can't believe what he just put it in his mouth. "no, no, it's..it's really good, like. really good." your cheeks redden a bit at the sudden compliment, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear as you occasionally glance at him enjoying the pie you'd made; you wouldn't say you were amazing at cooking but you definitely knew enough to make a meal that would do more than just feed you.

it also didn't help that you'd been harboring a crush on mike for the past month. that you were aware of, he didn't have a partner of any kind but that might have been more to do with the fact he didn't have time for one than anything else. you at first brushed it off as just not having contact with anyone your age that late at night, just enjoying his company when nights got lonely. but you couldn't deny the way you would style your hair a bit differently or try a new perfume in the hopes of getting a compliment from mike; to your absolute pleasure, he almost always pointed it out. now to hear this sudden praise for your cooking took you out of your element.

"thanks, really, but i make it all the time. i can make thousands like it and they'll all be the same." you say with a light chuckle, crossing your arms against your chest as you look over at the cake stand sheepishly. "then maybe you should consider getting a day job making these instead." mike says between bites, giving you a playful smile. you can't help but scoff despite the smile on your face, looking over at mike again. "well, if it's that easy, maybe YOU should quit your job and come and join me. keep me company." the two of you have a quiet laugh, your cheeks reddening at the indirect compliment you had paid him. once his plate is empty, you take it away from him just to have an excuse to do something with your hands (also to get away from the almost fond look that mike was giving you right now, definitely not on par for him). there's a tense silence between the two of you before mike speaks up, clearing his throat when he speaks. "uh, i tried making that at home. the pie, i mean. i don't remember what kind it was right now, but it definitely didn't end as well as that." he says with a nervous laugh, hands folded in front of him again as you hear the coffee machine start to pour out his drink.

"well, what exactly did you do wrong?" with surprisingly no hesitance, mike goes on to tell the story of how sure he was about this recipe he'd seen in a catalogue, going above and beyond to make sure this "stupid thing" (his words) came out right. little did he know leaving his creation unattended for even a second would result in smoke pouring out of the oven and having to throw out a charred-black pastry; "and then abby went and acted like we could just go and do it all over again and.." mike starts, hands waving around uncharacteristically as he finished off his story. he caught the way you were trying to hold back a laugh, fingers pressed to your lips that were etched into a small smile. "it's ok, you can laugh all you want. i never tried doing it again." you can't help the laugh that leaves you once he gives you his full permission, still trying to keep your voice down. "i-i'm sorry, really.." you giggle once you've calmed down, rubbing your hands over your face before you start to walk around the counter to where mike is sitting. "but that's not how making a pie works. you can't just leave it like that or give up on the process that easily."

mike makes a face that says 'i'm listening', shrugging his shoulders when you sit on the stool next to him. "making a pie is like.." you start with a sigh, hands propping up your chin in thought as you look up at the clock. "you just know when some things feel right. if something is too much or too little, whether you need to start again or not. lord knows i've had to redo entire pies because the crust wasn't flaky enough or the filling didn't taste like apples enough." you say, chuckling a bit as you remember all the times you'd slaved away for almost entire days trying to nail down the perfect home recipe. you take a minute to think again, sitting back a bit as you smooth down your apron tied around your waist. "and it also doesn't help if you make something just to make something. when you bake or just cook a plain old steak, you have to make it like you're crafting a story or making a song. all of my best meals were made with someone or something in mind."

your cheeks go red again when you realize the very unprompted ramble you went on, a nervous laugh leaving you as you look down at your lap. "sorry, you totally don't have to-" "no, no, i-" the two of you jump a bit at the way you both try to speak first, sheepish smiles tugging at your lips before you go quiet again. the bell above the door jingles and you don't have to look up to know the two of you are alone now. "i like hearing about that sort of stuff. i really only hear about it when i'm here with you and it's..nice. different." your heart soars and you can only hope that mike can't somehow feel or hear it, trying to give him a warm smile without saying something you'll regret. you get up from your seat with a when he checks his watch, knowing that's code for 'i need to go' even before he stands. you're almost sure he'll leave without saying anything which you are simultaneously grateful for and hoped he wouldn't do, already busying yourself with some other menial task. "hey."

you look up almost as soon as he speaks, seeing the smile tugging at his lips and not able to contain your own. "save those leftovers for me. i hope it still tastes like you were trying to make it for me when i get back." he says, a smug look in his eyes as your lips part a bit in shock. you try to call out to him before he jogs out to his car, taking off accordingly.

-> ta da its done! :D <-

this was honestly less romantic than i wanted it to be but i promise that my brain is racked with thoughts of him literally EVERY DAY so mayhaps i can write something else that's more up to par one of these days

but thank yall for reading! :D i haven't been able to pump out a oneshot like this for a while and it felt good to write something longer than a couple of paragraphs, i have missed this account sm 🐺💗 love yall and i hope that you all are having a fantastic day!

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #fnaf #oneshot #x reader #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson #michael schmidt x reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you

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nerdieforpedro · 2 months

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A Poor Plan to Confess

Dieter Bravo x plus size female reader (Moon Pie)

This is fic is for readers 18+ MDNI

Word Count: about 2.1k

Warnings: Dieter being a bit rude, porn use, mention of masturbation, teasing, improper toy use?, very bad communication, some mentions of sexual activities and acts, Nerdie is unsure of what she wrote

Summary: Dieter is doing his best to stay sober. You have a large part in his plans. They aren’t well thought out.

Notes: Written for the Dieter Bravo Brain Rot Server Challenge. @wannab-urs brought me back to Dieter, originally I didn’t have any ideas for this and then boom! 🤯 I had a few. Thanks to @missladym1981 for beta reading for me. 😘

Main Masterlist / Dieter Bravo Masterlist

A joke between old friends. Dieter was doing well. Three years sober, well from the harder drugs. He still had the occasional joint and alcohol. You weren’t really into the weed, thought it stunk to high heaven. Dieter always managed to find some really fragrant strains though, smelled like incense. Type you would burn laying on a chase couch in a fancy silk robe. Maybe smoke one of those long cigarettes except it had bubbles coming out of it. Dieter bought you one and told you to make bubbles come out of it over FaceTime.

The two of you have many silly jokes over the years. Some about video games, some about animals, some about his job and yours. He never wanted to hear about relationships and didn’t mention any of his to you. You asked why one day because friends normally at least mention if they’re dating someone or not and Dieter flat out told you, “I don’t need to have the image of you fucking somebody in my head.” Had you not been as secure as you were, you’d take offense, but you left it alone, keeping it in the back of your mind.

One thing Bravo hadn’t joked about thankfully was his sobriety, finally taking it seriously. He told you that if he ever called you mentioning coke or pills to lock him up and prevent him from calling anyone for the drugs. This was another joke. He even bought you handcuffs, zip ties and some bondage tape. His assistant dropped it off with a quizzical look on their face. You smiled and put them in your office. You knew why they had that look, you two as just friends and Dieter’s never given you anything like that before. Like an idiot, you googled how to use the zip ties and tape, ending up on Pornhub and unaware that someone was banging on your door.

When the next pop-up blocked your screen again, that was when you heard, “Hey! You alive in there?! Open the hell up! What kind of friend are you?” Running downstairs, you open up the door recognizing the voice, Dieter’s at your door. It’s 11:30 at night. He stares at you and you wonder why. Ah…I’m in my nightgown. My pink satin one to match the handcuff fuzz. I don’t think I washed my hands, and they smell like…fuck.

You now know why.

“Moon Pie, you got someone up in here? Didn’t know you had someone. I need your help your help though, just a room.” He pleads at your doorstep, before you can answer, whatever ad has finished and there’s loud moaning from the video you had been watching. His eyes cut upward to where the noise is coming from. “Or maybe not. I didn’t think you watched porn.”

Putting your hands on your hips, “Anyone can watch porn Dieter. Am I not allowed according to some weird ass rule you have? I have sex sometimes too!” His eyes went wide as you stepped aside letting him in and he raised his hands to signal defeat, though he did laugh when you said the word sex.

“You can’t even say fuck Moon Pie. Listen, let’s not talk about that. I need you to keep me here. I’m feeling like I may need to make a bad call. I did give my assistant my phone, but I don’t want to chance it. You still got that box?” He pays your shoulder, plopping down on the couch.

“Go find your silly box yourself Dieter. I’m going back upstairs.” Waving your hands, you start upstairs, making it up three stairs before some slaps are heard from your laptop in your room. You really need to turn that off.

“To finish your porn instead of helping your friend?” He popped up met you at the bottom of the stairs, “Come on! You still have the tools, right?” His hands ran up your arms. This man. Despite showing up unannounced, late, interrupting some ‘me time’ and requesting he use tools you don’t know how to use save for the handcuffs, you’d still help him out. Even if he could be troublesome and rude at times, he always supported you in work endeavors and listened to you talk way too much about Final Fantasy games. He blames you for knowing about crystals and different jobs like paladin and black mage.

You didn’t answer him and walked upstairs to your room, to turn the porn off but the screen was frozen, playing the same moan ever and over. The image had a man zip tied to a pole while standing as a woman sucked him off. They both were letting out a combined moan. Swallowing hard, Dieter watched you switch your weight between your large hips, he removed his robe and brown t-shirt leaving himself in his brown pajama pants and removing his gray socks. “Moon Pie. Have you ever done that sort of thing? I doubt it.” His voice snapped you after your haze, turning to look at him, confusion dots your face.

“Why did you remove your shirt? I just need to tie you up and prevent you from leaving right? Put your shirt back on Dee.” His chest only has a small splattering of dark hair on his golden skin. He lays across your bed grinning. “Wait how long am I supposed to keep you here? You’re not getting me arrested.”

“I was hot and until I don’t feel like using. Where’s the box?”

“Stay there, it’s in my office.” You’re back momentarily with the fabled box and open it, taking out the handcuffs, zip ties and tape. “Here which do you want me to use? I’m tired.” Dropping the box on the bed, he frowns, you’re not playing along, you see annoyed. Shouldn’t you be happy he’s across your bed? Dieter is, why aren’t you?

You are tired sure, but you’re hornier and more aware that Dieter is not going to want anything to do with relieving any frustration you have. Holding your hands palms out, “Just tell me what you want me tie you up with so I can set up the guest room.”

“Hey, why are you pissed at me? I’m not leaving until you help me, you said you would.” Dieter scoots to the edge of the bed and leans on his elbows. “Are you really that mad I stopped you from finishing your porn? You don’t need it.” He picks up the handcuffs out of the box and studies the pink fuzz. It looks about the same shade as your nightgown. Moon Pie hasn’t used these has she? No, they don’t look used. I think. These are mine, I bought them for her to use with me. She shouldn’t be watching porn. I need to be the toy.

“Damn it Dieter! I’m not just your friend, I’m a woman who has needs no matter if you wanna think about it or not! Fuck you!” Charging at him, you grab his shoulders and knock him back on the bed, pinning him to bed. He slaps the handcuffs on your wrist and his. “What the hell?! They’re only supposed to go on you not me!”

Bravo licks his lips and turns his head to the side to kiss your hand after pulling his wrist to his mouth. “Oh, I’ve always liked the idea of you in handcuffs. You should fuck me Moon Pie.” His curved nose inches closer to your hand and sniffs it. He has your scent now, sticking one of your fingers into his mouth and pulling it back out.

The sensation from his lips went straight to your cunt and you stifled a moan. He will not have his way; you can ensure even if you’re handcuffed to him. “You said you couldn’t picture me fucking Dee? Are you looking for that much of a distraction?” You moved to sit beside him on the bed, but he pulled you back on top, his free hand roaming freely over your love handles. “Dee, I’m not just going to be used for you staying sober.”

Leaning forward, his face connected with your neck, licking it, “I’ve been using you to stay sober since I finish rehab three years ago. I knew if I went back, it would disappoint the hell out of you.” His teeth bit into your neck and a whimper escaped, small but it was enough to encourage him. “I didn’t want to think of someone fucking you other than me. I’m sure you have; they’re flies drawn to honey.” His hand ran from your rolls to your ass squeezing it. “If I’m going to stay sober for you, I should have you, shouldn’t I?” Rolling his hips up into yours, he licks the bite and lets go of your ass slapping it.

Dropping your hips, you press right into his clothed bulge, feeling it throb against your bare cunt. “You’re insane Dieter, how does that make any sense….?” Unfortunately, he’s making it so much worse, your nipples are visible through your nightgown, erect as you leak onto his pants from your core. “This is only because you stopped me earlier with your stupid request.”

“Whatever you want to tell yourself Moon Pie. Only I’m going to see you like this from now on, right?” The pads of his fingers trail up your spine and pull down one of the straps of your nightgown letting a breast become fully exposed. He licks it before blowing on it, eliciting another whimper. “Tell me I’ll be the only one. I’ll take the handcuffs off and make sure you come. Don’t be difficult tonight. Not when I need you.” He doesn’t wait for your answer before taking it in his mouth, and sitting up, pulling you into his lap. Instinctively, both of your hands grab his head, pulling his one hand back. He disconnects from your nipple to yelp from his shoulder suddenly going back.

You grin and try to reach for the key that’s in the box since he’s distracted, but Dieter gets on his knees and pulls on his wrist, having your arm come back toward him and making you fall face first into the bed. “Dieter let me get the key, then I can lock you in another room. Clearly you need to be.” His fingers trace your thighs but don’t go any higher, sighing, he lays down next to you.

“You seriously don’t want to have sex with me? Even after I tell you I want you to be my only one? So cold to me.” He pouts. This man is seriously pouting after he’s teased you? He doesn’t move as you get the key and unlock yourself. You consider handcuffing both of his hands but release him as well. Moving to the edge of the bed, you stand and turn off your laptop then return to sit on the bed.

“You’ve got to do better than trying to guilt me into it. You’re horrible at this.” You laugh as does he. If it had been anyone else, you’d never speak to them again at minimum, Dieter rolls on his side and kisses your thigh.

“We’ve been friends how long? You know I’m shit at this. I feel like I should ask, you’re not going to have me arrested for this are you?” You poke the scruff on his cheek.

“No, though I should. You’re insane Dieter Bravo. We’ll sleep on it.” You lay back and scoot up to the head of the bed, closing your eyes.

“Did you want to finish your porn? Or make our own? It will be Moon Pie’s debut!”” Slinks up the bed and lays his head on your chest, kissing your collar bone.

“You’re a dumbass Dieter. I would tie you up but you’d like it too much. Go to sleep.” Placing your fingers in his hair to scratch his scalp makes him purr, wrapping a leg around one of yours.

“Keep scratching my head like that and we won’t be sleeping at all you cheeky Moon Pie. I’ll be under that gown soon.” His face found its way back to your neck, licking the teeth marks he made earlier. Letting out a soft groan, you pull on Dieter’s hair, so he pulls his head back. “Jokes on you, I enjoy my hair being pulled. Manipulate me more.” His grin is criminal, he should be arrested for that if anything.

It wasn’t even two hours before Dieter had your legs up around his waist. He’s temperamental and a horrible communicator but damn if he didn’t have you call him an Oscar winner while he rutted into you from behind giving you your third orgasm before one in the morning.

Trash Panda Pals 🦝: @katw474 @readingiskeepingmegoing @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @megamindsecretlair @pamasaur @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @sp00kymulderr @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @titlee78 @tinytinymenace @magpiepillsjunior @soft-girl-musings @morallyinept @rhoorl @wannab-urs @survivingandenduring @missladym1981 @yorksgirl @pedroshotwifey @heareball

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x plus size reader #dieter bravo x you #Nerdie fic rec #dieter bravo brainrot club

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ksywoo · 1 year

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11:19pm / c.hs

pairing: vernon x reader pronouns: not specified word count: 764 genre: established relationship, fluff, sleepy vernon, sharing a bed, implied idol!vernon but could be read as non-idol, vernon tries to commit the cardinal sin of going to bed with wet hair (something i do literally always), domestic caretaking of tired vernon bc i want to put him in my pocket for safe keeping warnings: none note: i love vernon. also I'm back to writing more frequently WOOO

masterlist

The familiar sound of your front door opening made you perk up, surprised at the sudden distraction from your work. You weren’t expecting your boyfriend to show up for another few hours, but as you heard him drop his bag and take off his shoes, you were excited to see him after a long day.

You stood up and all but ran to the front door. He laughed fondly at your sudden appearance and opened his arms to you after taking off his jacket. You quickly stepped into him, hugging him tightly and taking in his presence.

“It amazes me how excited you are to see me even after a year of dating,” he mumbled into your shoulder.

“You’re here early,” you defended. “And it’s been a long day.” You pulled away, arms still loosely wrapped around his torso. You gave him a kiss and he smiled in return.

“Long day in a bad way?” he asked.

You shook your head. “Just a lot to do. You?”

He shrugged. “I’m very tired.”

“Did you eat yet?” You picked up his bag from where he dropped it and carried it to the bedroom as you spoke.

“Yeah, a bit ago.”

“Then you wash up and get ready for bed and I’ll finish up my work so we can sleep. Sound good?”

“Sounds amazing,” he agreed and dragged his feet to your bathroom.

You and Vernon didn’t live together, but it was almost like you did. He came over so often to escape his members or just to spend a few extra hours with you that it sometimes felt like your small apartment wasn’t a home unless he was there. He had a key, spare clothes tucked away in a drawer in your room, and some of his clothes even smelled like your detergent from how often you threw his laundry in with yours just to make his life easier. In all the ways that mattered, Vernon and you lived together. He just also lived with his members half the time.

After you got dressed in your comfiest pajama bottoms and an old shirt, Vernon walked in and peeled back the blankets on your bed until you stopped him.

“Hey! Your hair is wet.”

“Yeah? I took a shower?” he explained, eyes wide with surprise at the sudden disturbance in the peaceful atmosphere.

“Go dry it,” you waved him out of the room but his shoulder fell and he pouted.

“Babe I’m so tired–”

“You’re not getting in my bed with wet hair. Same rule as always.”

He tried to protest your demands but you continued.

“You could get sick but even if you don’t, I’m not cuddling you while your hair is soaking wet. It’s going to get the pillows wet and drip onto me and–”

“Fine,” he groaned, trudging back to the bathroom. A few moments later, you heard the blowdryer turn on and followed the sound so you could brush your teeth.

You smiled at Vernon with your toothbrush in your mouth. He was still frowning, looking deeply distraught and exhausted as he weakly pointed the dryer in his face, barely reaching his hair.

“Idiot,” you mumbled around the toothbrush. He glared at you through the mirror before pointing it at you for a second. Your small yelp made him smile and he went back to doing a half-assed job of drying his hair. “Give it to me,” you demanded after you finished brushing your teeth.

He gladly handed it to you and you stood behind him, ruffling his hair and pointing the dryer to get all of his hair. His eyes closed with contentment as you played with his hair, though he’d never admit it out loud to anyone except you that playing with his hair was one of his weaknesses.

“I’m already about to fall asleep,” he mumbled just barely over the loud machine. “You playing with my hair is not helping.”

Even when you were done and there were no damp pieces left, you threaded your fingers through his soft locks for just a few more moments before turning off the dryer and putting it away. Vernon opened his eyes and smiled at you through the mirror.

“Thanks,” he said softly before turning to you and kissing your lips. “Love you.”

“Bedtime, bud,” you smiled, sure he would fall asleep standing up if he waited any longer.

A few minutes later, with the lights off and Vernon’s limbs tangled with yours under the blankets, you pressed a kiss to his collarbone, telling him how much you loved him too.

#vernon x reader #vernon x y/n #vernon x you #vernon fanfic #svt fanfic #svt x reader #svt x you #svt x y/n #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventee x y/n #seventeen x you #fizzys fics #chwe vernon x reader #chwe hansol x reader #vernon oneshot

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theitgirlnetwork · 7 months

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Better

Ch. 11: Three Months But It Feels Like Forever

Note: Hello! Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it and just a warm hope you had a good day to those who don't. Another chapter written in the middle of the night, so...you know. Still I hope you enjoy it. Unfortunately our fave couple still has troubles ahead, but there's a fun, a little (a lot) crazy surprise at the end. As always, thank you for all of the love on this story, I'm really grateful for it. It really inspires me and makes this stuff even easier to share. You're all great. I love interacting so feel free to continue. Also this is short but the next one will be longer bc it's something big. Also again, this taglist situation is probably my bad so I'm gonna sort it out, try again next chapter, and then y'all can tell me if it worked, bc atp I'm embarrassing myself. Thanks and I hope you enjoy. <3

Charlotte's Work Party Look

Lip's Work Party Look

“So this is bullshit. He dumps her for one basketball game?”

“That’s not what happened, he was having an inner conflict, and he was only sixteen.”

“Sixteen year old piece of shit.”

Charlotte huffs, continuing to run her fingers through his blond curls. Lip is laid across the couch, his head in Charlotte’s lap, hand underneath her thigh. Debbie is sitting on the floor in front of the television and Troy Bolton had just told his friends he didn’t give a shit about Gabriella.

“He’s just choosing basketball and his friends.” Debbie protests, breaking free from her basketball boy trance to argue with her brother.

“Basketball and his friends can’t get his dick wet-ow! Charlotte.” he winces, rubbing the spot on his scalp where his girlfriend had decided to bury her hand and tug. “Damn it, I was just sayin’ he’s got like one game left in the season, why does he need to break up with her to play? And that shit she just wrote on the board is wrong-why the hell are we watchin’ this shit?”

“You just don’t get it.” Debbie huffs, pausing the movie. She pushes off of the floor and grabs the popcorn from the coffee table. “Let’s watch try again when he’s not here.”

“Oh excuse me.” Lip rolls his eyes as his sister storms off, running up the steps. When he looks back up at his girlfriend, her cheek is dimpling with her deep frown. “What?”

“You ruined movie night” she fake pouts, rubbing her hand along his chest.

Lip smirks, before indulging her, sitting up and tilting her chin with his finger. “Aw, did I?” he kisses her cheek, “I don’t think I did.” her jaw, “We could go in my room and make our own movie.”

“Yeah?” Charlotte hums, meeting his lips briefly with her own before pulling back. “Can’t. I have work.”

“Stay here,” he murmurs, pulling her back to him. “You can dance for me.”

Giggling, Charlotte lets herself be pulled back in, exchanging kisses with the blond until his phone buzzes on the couch next to him, a dreaded name lighting up on the screen. She pulls back fully this time, standing to go get dressed. “Your professor is texting you. At 8:36 at night.”

Blue eyes watch Charlotte disappear up the staircase before closing tiredly. Lip had been dodging almost all of Helene’s communications. He would read her texts to make sure they had nothing to do with his job, and only responded when they did. He’d hoped that was enough, but everytime Charlotte saw that name pop up on his phone she would retract from him. Leave the room, pick up Liam, interact with anyone but him. One morning she asked again, if she had a thing for him, or if they’d hooked up in the past. No matter how much he wanted to, Lip just couldn’t bring himself to answer her with a yes.

“Fuck,” he breathes to himself, before running up the stairs after her. He pushes the door to his bedroom open. “Charlotte-” he pauses, staring at her, taking in her form. She stands in her work outfit, if you could call it that, the only thing offering an ounce of covering is the one leg of a juicy tracksuit she was putting on over it. “Um, what the fuck?”

She turns, meeting him with confusion, giving him a glimpse of the front which only has him letting out a laugh of disbelief. “What?”

“What? You’re gonna wear that to work?”

“Oh,” she shrugs, putting her leg through the other hole and pulling the pants up. “Yeah.” she chirps, reaching past him to grab the matching jacket, zipping it over the small bikini top she has on.

“The only thing that shit covers is your nipples.” Lip says, scratching his head.

“S’a stripclub, Phillip. They’re supposed to see stuff.” she giggles. Her laughter stops when she sees his stoic face. Charlotte makes her way over to him, cupping his cheek, “Hey, you said you were good with this. You’re not?”

Lip looks away from her for a second, shifting on his feet. He’s too embarrassed to admit to her that he thinks he agreed to this whole stripper situation too soon. He’d never been a jealous guy, so he didn’t think it was a problem, but he supposes that jealousy is a new feeling that Charlotte had brought into his life. “No, baby I am, just…shit.”

“What shit. Like shit? Or shit.”

Lip closes the distance between them, waiting for her to meet him in a peck, patting her ass when she does. “Watch your mouth.” he mumbles against her lips.

Big brown eyes just stare up into his blue ones. “M’workin’ for us, remember?” She whispers, wrapping her arms around his neck and rubbing his hair at the nape. “Besides, why would I look at the losers that hang out at the club, lookin’ at me all night when I could come work and be with my sexy boyfriend?”

“Good point.”

“Yeah?” she laughs, letting him pull her into a bunch of small pecks, between matching smiles. The couple starts to get lost in each other again, only breaking away at the sound of Lip’s phone going off again. Charlotte pulls back with a blank look on her face. “Your other girlfriend is trying to reach you.”

Lip rolls his eyes and sighs as she slips past him again, running down the stairs. “Bunny-”

“Just take me to work, Gallagher.”

“You do privates, honey?” A drunken man slurs, leering at Charlotte, waving a hundred dollar bill in front of her face. He’s with a group of older men who’d been tipping shittily and buying the cheapest drinks since they’d gotten there.

“No, sir I don’t, but the ladies that do are on the other side of the club…and they charge more than that.”

The man’s lip curls as he stands, scowling at the woman. Charlotte subtly takes a step back, glancing over at security, ready to call them if he got aggressive.

“Hold on, wait a minute, Trent. That’s my daughter in law you’re talkin’ to.” a voice rasps.

“Frank?”

The scraggly man emerges from the crowd of older men on the couch, positioning himself between Charlotte and the other man. “The one and only.” His gaze drops briefly. “Nice outfit.”

Charlotte wraps her arms over her chest and frowns at the man. “What’re you doing here, Frank?” She looks at the group behind him. “Are you in trouble?”

“Trouble? I’m enjoying the ambience! You and your lovely naked friends are a sight to behold-”

“Oh, God, Frank!” Charlotte gasps, covering her mouth to hide her disgust.

“What? You have a beautiful form!”

“I’m calling Phillip.” she huffs, turning to go to the locker room, she pauses as a thought passes through her mind. Twirling back around she makes her way back over. “Frank, what are you paying with?”

“Oh,” the older man produces a sock full of cash from his pocket. It’s familiar to Charlotte. Ever since Frank and Monica located the first squirrel fund, Fiona had started keeping the money in a new place. In the dry rotted hole on the floor between the wall and the dryer. Inside of the sock that Frank was currently dangling in Charlotte’s face. “I came into some money.”

“Hey, that’s-” Charlotte tries to grab it, only for Frank to yank it away at each attempt. “For the house! For bills, for Carl’s field trip this month-”

“That’s my house that you’re shacking up in fyi. This is Gallagher money, and therefore it’s mine to spend. Now point me in the direction of the ladies giving private dances. I’m a private man.”

“Frank, I can’t let you spend that-” Charlotte argues, grabbing one end of the sock and pulling. Frank is tugging at the other until he stumbles into a table, causing a couple glasses to fall and shatter, leaving Charlotte with the sock. Charlotte stands over the man angry, disgusted, and feeling a wave of hate she’s never really felt for anyone. Up until this point, she really didn’t consider Frank beyond the far and few in between memories Lip shared. But now she was seeing the man be shitty live and in person. And she was fed up. “It’s for your fucking kids you deadbeat!”

Two seconds later security is grabbing Frank and the manager on staff that night, Sarah, is pulling Charlotte a couple steps away. She can distantly hear Lip’s father yelling and cursing as he’s dragged from the club. “Lottie, what happened?”

“I…Frank is my boyfriend’s father, and he’s trying to spend their house money, and he was being a dick about it-”

“Okay, okay. Well, Frank knows he’s not really supposed to be in here anyway, so it won’t happen again. The new guy at the door must have let him slip through. But, because a personal altercation occurred out on the floor, I have to send you home, babe.”

“Damn, really?” Charlotte whines, looking at the crowd starting to pour into the club, no doubt big spenders. She could practically see the dollar signs fading away. Sara offers her a sympathetic look, shrugging. “Fine, okay, let me call my boyfriend to pick me up.”

Lip had been dead asleep when Charlotte let him know she needed to be picked up from work. He has work tomorrow and so in an attempt to get some real sleep, he was in their room at V and Kev’s house, taking advantage of the quiet. He’d rushed over to get her, grabbing Kev’s car keys without asking and noting to himself that a car should probably be the first thing on their list to purchase with the Bunny Bank. When he pulled up out front she was already waiting there for him, the big burly security man, John waiting beside her to walk her to the car.

He and Lip exchange nods as Charlotte climbs into the car pouting. “What happened?” Lip immediately questions, barely letting the door closed. “Someone was fuckin’ with you?”

Charlotte huffs, buckling her seatbelt, allowing him to turn the light on and try to check her for any bruises or injuries. “No…kinda, just- your dad showed up.”

“Fuckin’ Frank.”

“Yeah, right, and he had all of your house money, and I tried to get it back, and he wouldn’t give it back, and we fought and I told him he was a piece of shit deadbeat.”

Lip frowns at that. He hates this part of having a girlfriend. It’s fucking humiliating. He doesn’t know how Fiona lets a bunch of different guys get involved with their family shit. Finding Frank drunk in the yard, Monica coming and spewing her bullshit, now Frank was showing up at Charlotte’s job. And she was fighting with him over money he’d stolen from his children. It’s fucking embarrassing. “Yeah, well, that’s Frank, don’t worry about that shit okay?”

“Well he was stealing from-”

“Fiona and I handle it, it’s not your problem, alright?” Lip says, muscle in his jaw jumping in irritation.

From the corner of his eye he can see Charlotte stare at him with a hurt expression for a moment, before sitting back in the passenger seat, facing forward. “Okay.” she drops the sock full of money on his lap.

The rest of the ride is quiet, Lip drives her through dingy streets, in a borrowed car and wallows in shame. Charlotte is leaning as far into the door as possible, far from him. When they pull up to their neighborhood she hops out of the car before Lip can open the door, going over to Kev and V’s house. Lip follows a couple paces behind quietly, assuming the fact that she’d left the door unlocked was a sign she still wanted him to come with her.

As he enters the room he finds Charlotte already in her pajamas, curled up on the bed facing the wall. Small movements let him know she’s crying. The blond quietly slips behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist and resting his face against hers, pressing soft quiet kisses against her cheek. “M’sorry, baby.”

She just offers a sniffle in response.

Lip sighs loudly, dropping his head to the desk. His eyes fucking burn. He got little to no sleep after he’d basically told Charlotte off and made her cry, and she was quiet as hell this morning. He was such a screw up. “Fuck” he curses, grabbing a cigarette and his lighter from his bag, leaning back in his desk chair as he sparks it.

“Gallagher! You have a visitor!” Eric calls from the hallway. Immediately, Lip’s mind goes to Charlotte. Maybe she was feeling better and didn’t fucking hate him for telling her off for caring about him.

“Let her in!”

The door creaks open revealing Helene with a condescending smile plastered on her face. “You’re a hard man to hunt down, Phillip Gallagher.”

He just sighs, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air. “M’busy.”

“With what? Work or your girlfriend?” Helene sits in the chair across from Lip, crossing her legs, rolling her eyes when he doesn’t bother answering, taking another drag. “I’m kidding. But you have been ignoring my calls.”

“Well, you’re here now. What’d you wanna talk about?”

A muffled voice that could only be Eric’s is heard through the door. “His office is this way. You look great by the way.” The door to Lip’s office pushes open again, and who enters this time has him shooting out of his seat. “Gallagher, your girlfriend’s here.” Eric grins, tucking his hands into his pockets as Charlotte slowly makes her way in, eyes flicking between Lip and Helene.

“Fucking shit, okay-” Lip mumbles under his breath, holding his arm out for Charlotte to come to him. He watches as she rolls her shoulders back, standing straight and walking behind Lip’s desk, leaning into him. “Hel-Helene, this is my girlfriend Charlotte, Charlotte, this is my old Professor Helene.”

“Nice to meet you, young lady.” Helene says, holding her hand out.

Charlotte takes a deep breath before setting down the bag she was carrying in her hand, reaching over and taking Helene’s hand. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs.-”

“Miss.”

“Ms. Helene.” Charlotte finishes, a tight smile on her face.

The blonde woman laughs, tossing her head back. “Just Helene is fine.”

“Mm well, I dunno. Doesn’t seem right.” Charlotte shrugs, leaning further into Lip. “Thank you, by the way, for helping him get this job, it’s been wonderful.”

“You’re welcome. It was no problem at all, Phillip is a special boy.”

“I know,” Charlotte grins even harder, roughly patting Lip’s cheek. “A very special man. So proud of him.”

Lip watches the exchange trying to figure out if he should be nervous, laugh, or think it’s hot that Charlotte is staking her claim right now, running her hand along his hair, face and chest as she pretends to smile at Helene.

Eric clears his throat stepping further into the room himself. “Charlotte, something smells great, and it came when you did so either you smell amazing or you cooked something.”

“Oh, I,” She takes a piece of blue tupperware out of the bag, placing it in front of Lip. “I made you lunch, you didn’t eat breakfast this morning and you didn’t take lunch so…I thought we could eat and talk, but, I see you’re busy.”

Lip turns to her, voice softening as he grabs her hand. “Bunny, I’m sure I can-”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Eric sighs, tapping his own forehead. “I meant to give you some assignments from my dad, I know it’s your lunch break, but you’d have to stay late otherwise.”

“Fuck.” Lips breathes, running his hand through his hair.

“It’s alright bro, I could take Charlotte to lunch.” Eric offers, not withering under the looks he received from the couple. “My girlfriend and I are meeting up anyway, let the girls hang out and spend my money, Becca’s always looking for a partner in crime.”

Charlotte looks at an apprehensive Lip. And she knows it’s wrong, but the way he and the cradle robber across the desk interact makes her feel petty. “Sure, if Lip’s busy.”

Lip fixes Charlotte with a look of betrayal that has her questioning her decision, but Eric is already guiding her away from him out of the door. Yeah, fuck that. Lip thinks, grinding his teeth as he goes to follow them out of the door. Helene’s hand shoots out to stop him before he can get far. “Oh, and Lip, before you get back to work, there’s a work dinner for all of the different departments that I’m hoping you’ll attend. I mean, I know your boss, Mr. Avery is excited to meet you there.”

“Look, uh, Helene, I mean, thank you for all of this. For the job, recommending me and shit, but,” He scratches his nose, “the texts, the calls, they have to stop. Like, now you’re visiting, and that’s weird, you see I have a girlfriend so…”

“Of course, I wouldn’t ever want to disrespect that, I just thought, after everything, we could be friends.” Helene stands, grabbing her purse. “Well, I can see now that’s inappropriate. But you really should come to this party. It’s good for your career to make friends and shake hands. Bring Charlotte with you.”

Lip tucks his head, “I dunno, I don’t…don’t really think Charlotte is gonna be in the mood, we uh, need to talk.”

“No matter what was going on, my husband and I always made it to each other’s work functions. We always supported each other’s careers. If someone can’t do that for you, are they really the one?”

The young man recoils, frowning at the implication. Yes. She is. Period. Full stop. They were out of tune today, but Lip knows what he knows. And he knows he and Charlotte are there for each other. He knows they love each other. He knows that these past few months were the best of his life. Even when he and Charlotte weren’t on good terms, he knew he wouldn’t want to be struggling to communicate with anyone else. “You uh, mean ex-husband. And she’ll be there.”

Helene barely hides the hurt look on her face before she lets out a short, “Great.”

“Do you think this is okay?” Charlotte twirls, the skirt of her brown dress flaring around her gives Lip ideas that he knows he shouldn’t be having. Especially while they were fighting. Kinda. Something else he’s learned over these last few months is that Charlotte holds stuff in. When she’s upset she doesn’t explode like his family does, shit like he does. Breaking property, getting arrested, fighting. She doesn’t withhold affection like Helene and Karen used to. No, she still let him touch her. Quietly letting him press his lips to her cheeks, not moving when he rubs his hips, bringing him lunch. It was the stillness. The angry tears. The lack of warmth that let Lip know things were strained. And it hurts.

“You look great, bunny. Fuckin’ beautiful.” Lip says from his bed, tapping his cigarette ashes into Ian’s ashtray.

“Okay, good. You ready?” Charlotte asks, smoothing her hands over her dress as she looks in the mirror. Her voice is so devoid of emotion, but her eyes are extremely expressive. Big brown pools full of sadness as they meet his in their reflection.

But Lip is new to this. New to trying to maintain. New to trying to keep someone of value. “Babe, uh, should we talk or somethin’?”

Charlotte takes a deep breath before turning to Lip with a tired smile. “Later. Let’s get you to your work thing and after you wow them with your big genius brain, we’ll leave early and try to get on the same page.”

“Yeah?” he stands, looking down at her.

Charlotte just shrugs, reaching over and adjusting his tie with a small smile playing at her lips. “Yeah.”

And that’s the game plan. When they arrive at the party, which they find is being hosted at a friend of the company’s house. If one could call it that. It looks like a fucking mansion, down to the marble columns. Lip felt out of place, everyone here looked so…expensive, and not in the ‘I worked my ass off way’. He felt different than he did when he’d met Helene’s friends back when they were hooking up. The only thing preventing the bounce in his leg as he basically paraded his intelligence to the highest bidder with the future of his family on the line, was Charlotte’s soft, steady hand on him at all times. Fingers intertwined with his. Rubbing circles on his back. Rested on his thigh as she leaned into him. All Lip could think about was the fact that he was here for her, for them. He could secure their futures together if he turned this internship into a permanent job. He could…could…shit. Is that what he wants? Hell, is that what she wants?

Lip’s thoughts are interrupted by Eric and Rebecca’s entrance. The latter immediately beams as she sees Charlotte, squeezing her way between crowds of people, turning her nose up at a tray of hors d'oeuvres being passed in front of her face. “Lottie!” she cheers, tugging Charlotte up by her hands, pulling her into a hug. “You look gorgeous my love, who are you wearing?”

“Um, I’m sorry, my mother got me this dress, but if you wanna pull the tag out-”

“Oh, no, honey it’s fine. You can call me with outfit details later, I need to go find Eric’s bitch of a mother.” she murmurs under her breath. “Sorry I couldn’t make lunch earlier, but thanks so much for reminding that asshole to bring me something. It’d be just like him to go to my favorite restaurant and bring me nothing.” Rebecca scoffs, tossing her hair before fixing a fake smile on her face, leaving to find her boyfriend’s mother.

“You,” Lip pauses, laughing in disbelief as he stands, looking between Eric and Charlotte. “You went to lunch together. Alone.” He nods to himself, still chuckling, slowly walking closer to Eric.

“Phillip.” Charlotte tries, putting her hand on his arm. “Phillip, we were already there when Rebecca said she wasn’t coming, stop.”

“Yeah, man, it’s nothing serious, I just took your girl to lunch, she’s probably never been to the nicer restaurants in Chicago before-”

“Man, I’m about to knock your fuckin’ head off.” the blond continues, calmly putting his drink down, the force making a sound that gathers the attention of passersby. Charlotte tugs at Lip again, pleading to him his ear, telling him to go get their jackets and she’d use the bathroom.

“Please, Phillip. Please. Just go get the jackets. Please. We don’t have to talk to him. Please.” she begs, cupping his face. Eric huffs as he watches the woman coddle her boyfriend and takes a deep swig of his drink wandering off to go find Rebecca.

Lip runs an angry hand through his hair stalking off to the room where the jackets are being kept without saying a word, trying to maintain his temper. But of fucking course. Of course he’d meet a girl like Charlotte. Of course she’d make him fall in love with her, and like a fucking idiot, he would. And of course they’d meet a jackass like fuckin’ Eric who wanted her, who could give her the things she deserved like nice dinners, cars, houses, the pretty fucking outfits she likes to wear. He could give her that without planning for months, saving, taking money in and out of their joint savings to take care of his batshit family. Lip slams the door behind him, going to sift through the coats before pausing, hearing sniffling from the other side of the room. “Uh, hello?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” a watery voice says, stepping out from the closet area Helene is clutching a tissue in her hand, going over to Lip. “I’m sorry, it’s just-” her words are cut off by sobs.

“Uh, shit, sit down.” Lip says, guiding her to sit on the bed in the room.

“I…my son just called, let me know he made it back to school okay. And…it slipped in conversation, his father went on a date. He’s started seeing someone. I’d thought…he’d maybe surprise me by coming here. Oh, and I was so rude about Charlotte earlier, but my partner is the one not here.”

Lip watches awkwardly as the older woman sobs, placing his hand on her shoulder after a moment, glancing around. Sure he felt bad for her, but after all this time, he’d realized she really had been a bitch to him. And her ex-husband. He’d thought so highly of her before, thought she was the best thing that would ever happen to him. Now she was crumpling in front of him and he could barely bring himself to comfort her. “Sorry. But, I thought that was like…you guys’ thing. Fucking other people.”

“No, that was more me, he…tolerated it.”

“Oh. That’s…shitty.” Lip whistles.

“It is.” Helene sighs, sniffing one last time. She wipes her face before fully looking at Lip. “I think I was filling some kind of void you know? Low self-esteem, issues with aging, I have them all. The only relationship I had outside of my marriage that meant anything is you.”

They hadn’t even heard it. At least, Lip hadn’t. The door opening. The sound of Charlotte coming to check on him since he hadn’t returned with their jackets. But he did hear her curse before slamming the door. He couldn’t move fast enough, leaving Helene behind he slips between the bodies of movers and shakers in scattered throughout the house, swinging open the door and running down the steps, finding Charlotte stumbling in the grass as she kicks off her heels, grumbling. “Charlotte!”

He catches up to her quickly, grabbing the car keys from the valet stopping at Kev’s truck. The woman keeps walking, head held high as she limps out of the gate. “Charlotte, are you serious? Get in the car.”

“No!”

“Fucksake.” he growls, getting into the car and backing out of the driveway, following alongside her slowly as she makes her way on foot. “It’s fucking dark, get in the car.”

“Leave me alone.” she huffs, crossing her arms, whining to herself about the dirt touching her feet.

The muscle in Lip’s jaw jumps, his scowl going deeper. He reaches over and lights a cigarette, smoking out of the window. “You know, you’re the one who went on a fuckin’ date with someone else today.”

Charlotte laughs, speeding up. “It wasn’t a fuckin’ date. His girlfriend was supposed to go, and she canceled. We were already there, and you were too busy eye-fucking that old professor that you conveniently left out you used to literally fuck.”

“I really don’t wanna talk about eye-fucking when you get naked for half of Chicago, alright?” Lip grits. Too far. He knows it immediately. He watches her stop, and look at him with hurt he never wants to see, her tear tracks shining in the lights from the streets. His own eyes glisten with unshed tears. He puts the car in park, cigarette still balanced between his lips as he hops out walking around the side and grabbing a kicking, protesting Charlotte by her waist, tossing her over his shoulder. Lip places her in the car and slams the passenger door before getting back into the driver’s seat, staring forward at the road.

Charlotte pettily snatches the cigarette from his mouth, opening her window and flicking it to the road. “Why didn’t you tell me you dated her?”

The blond takes a deep breath, letting his eyes slip closed. “I was embarrassed, and I thought it’d freak you out. That you’d ask me to quit cause she helped me get the job. And I would if you asked me to.”

“I would too. Quit. If you asked me to.” Charlotte sighs.

“I don’t wanna ask you to do that. You like it, it's good money, shit you just started. But I do hate it. Thought I wouldn’t, but I do.”

“So, we’ll talk about it more. Until we both know where we stand on it.” she says, facing forward too, she's quiet for another beat before speaking again. “I’m telling the truth about Eric.”

“I know.” Lip scrubs his hands down his face. “I know. And I am sorry that I yelled about that stupid shit with Frank. That bullshit just shouldn’t be your problem.”

“I want it to be my problem. I love your family and I love you. I want to be part of it. I want…I want to be your family. So I care about the money you guys saved being stolen, I care if Liam’s diapers get bought, and I care if Carl gets to go on his field trip.”

“Fuck, bunny, I know you care. I just don’t want you to deal with that shit, it’s fuckin embarrasin’ you having to see my family like that. Having to kick in money for the house.”

“It’s stuff I wanna do. Ian doesn’t walk on eggshells with Mickey. None of you do. You treat him like an honorary Gallagher. Why can’t you do that with me?”

The couple turns to each other now, Lip reaching over the console, grabbing Charlotte’s hand. “You’re fuckin’ better than us, bunny.” He says, one tear finally falling.

Charlotte reaches up, wiping away the drop before smoothing his hair. “You’re gonna stop talkin’ about my boyfriend and our family like that. Nothing is better than you.” She smiles as Lip brings her hand to his mouth kissing her hand. “Well, except Chad in high school musical, I mean, I let the Troy slander go, but he’s different-” she laughs into the kiss that he pulls her into, the two of them smiling into the embrace as they share soft, tender kisses.

The pair stays like that for a while. Wrapped up in each other. Sitting in the dimly lit car, running Kev’s gas on the side of the road without a care in the world. After a few moments of peace Lip decides to take a risk. It’s a big one, a very Fiona style decision. But those were random loser fuckers who got her off when she was vulnerable. This, this is Charlotte. His Charlotte. Who'd singlehandedly made his life better in the short time she'd been here. Who he loves an unexplainable amount that almost pisses him off. And he’s scared. Fuckin’ terrified. But he has to try.

“Sweetheart, how long have we known each other?”

Charlotte scoffs, playing with his fingers with an absent smile. “Well, three months, but it feels like forever. You know, I never know if people mean that in a good or bad way. I mean it the good way, obviously.” she beams at him, looking into his eyes and finding him with a serious face, her smile fades. “What?”

“Do you work tomorrow?”

“Hm, nope, not supposed to. You?”

His chest tightens as he answers her. He doesn’t believe in stars aligning, or cosmic whatever, but he thinks that this might just be the fate shit that Debbie is spewing all the time that makes no scientific sense. “Nah, I uh…threatened my boss, so I gotta see if I still have a job. I think he has a thing for my hot girlfriend that I’m..I’m uh really in love with.”

“If he does, he doesn't stand a chance. Because I really love my boyfriend.” she hums. If anything was gonna be his confirmation, Lip thinks this is it. Those words were enough. “So what’s with the questions? You wanna do something?” she asks cutely, leaning her cheek into his hand.

This is it.

He looks down into her brown eyes and decides this is what he wants to see forever. Looking at anything else sucks anyway.

“Yeah, um…”

Just fuckin’ do it pussy.

“You wanna go get married?”

#oc #fiona gallagher #ian gallagher #kevin ball #lip gallagher #lip gallagher x oc #lip gallagher x reader #shameless #veronica fisher #gallagher #charlotte fisher #love #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #better

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recurring-polynya · 7 months

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My Top 5 Bleach Filler Characters, Appropos of Nothing

5. Inaba Kagerouza, Reigai Arc

Inaba is, simply put, the pinnacle of Soul Society worldbuilding. He's got this long dramatic backstory and a bunch of rage bottled up in his chest, but also a guy needs a paycheck, so he's just been doing the R&D grind for a hundred years. He knows a shit-ton about the Dangai, which is relevant to his evil scheme, but it's also just his day job (also the Dangai owns, I want a PhD in "the Dangai"). No one else in Squad 12 seems to have the least bit of beef with him, even after he builds an evil duplicate of every person in the Gotei. Unlike a lot of mad scientist characters, he's good with his weapon. Maybe he's weirdly jacked under his villainous smock?? Also, his evil scheme was generally well thought out, and took into account the fact that the Gotei is a bunch of buffoons. ngl, I kinda wish his plan had succeeded, if only for the fact that it would probably really piss Aizen off.

4. Ran'Tao, Bount Arc

Everything about Ran'Tao owns, including:

Sexy glasses

Condemned so hard by the Central 46 that they gave her a kidou seal back tattoo

KIDOU. SHOTGUN.

Stabbed Kariya in the gut

Noped out at the end of the arc because Who Needs the Gotei's Shit?

3. Kuchiki Kouga, Zanpakutou Rebellion Arc I think that when you hear the story about how Byakuya was forbidden from marrying Hisana because she was a commoner, you're supposed to feel this great sense of injustice, like wow! Byakuya actually showed character by standing up for his love! And that's great and all, and then you get the Zanpakutou Rebellion Vintage Kuchiki Bullshit Flashbacks and it's like, oh, the last guy they married into the clan mass murdered a bunch of people and then they had to seal him up in a cave and I feel like that's an important piece of context in the entire Kuchiki Family-Being-a-Bitch-About-Who-Byakuya-Marries debacle.

Which isn't to exonerate the Kuchiki, here! It's very clear that Kouga wasn't that bad before he got pushed over the brink by Kuchiki family machinations. I mean, this is very much an Everyone's The Asshole situation.

I love the fact that they never come out and say that Kouga is Byakuya's uncle, but he's very obviously Byakuya's uncle.

I love the fact that he dramatically cut his kenseikan off with his sword and threw them at Ginrei and they made a gree card of it.

I love that he appears to be exactly Renji's height and has one chunk of hair that is the same color as Renji's and he over-accessorizes horrifically, and at best the Squad Six old-timer's had to be like "Byakuya don't do this to us again" when he hired Renji, and at worst there's a chance that Renji the secret baby that was born after Kouga was banished and he was hidden away in the Rukon so he didn't screw up the succession line but he's actually the true Heir to the Kuchiki.

2. Harugasaki Seizo, standalone episode 313 This dude had a homoerotic rivalry with Ikkaku (doomed, of course, because who could compete with Yumichika?), lost his shinigami powers when he took a blow meant for Ikkaku, and then spent the next hundred years putting his entire pussy into doing laundry for Squad 11. This man invented yearning, even if he did choose the worst possible person in the history of ever as the target of his affection.

1. Amagai Shuusuke, New Captain Shuusuke Amagai Arc He looks like Ross Poldark. He can't hold his liquor. No one knows who witnessed his Captain's Exam. Ukitake and Kyouraku tried to talk him into a threesome. He was nice to Kira. His bankai was a tuba that made a foghorn noise when it belched out fire. His dad was the shinigami equivalent of a narc, who got done dirty by the Captain-Commander. He fought the Dangai Cleaner and won. I love him more than anything.

Honorable Mention: Kenryuu and Enryuu, New Captain Shuusuke Amagai Arc Because they are an important reminder that for all the shinigami buffoonery I am forced to witness, day in and day out, some people graduate from Shin'ou, get shikai even, and still can't get hired by the Gotei.

#bleach filler #these are just my own cursed opinions you're under no obligation to share them #kenryuu and enryuu are also here because my husband loves them for absolutely no reason #i was trying to do this post out loud for him and i got to about no 3 and he was like 'kenryuu and enryuu right???' and i was like 'no dear #he also says they are married and will not hear arguments on this topic #i found (1) person on tumblr drawing seizo fanart and i respect that person to the bottom of my heart #i knew renji barely remembered seizo but imma write him into my squad 11 fanfic that i'm never going to finish see if i don't #procrastinating from my fanfic in some really epic ways today lads

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justjensenanddean · 1 year

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Jensen Ackles and Danneel Ackles Panel | Brighton UK (Crossroads 6), March 11, 2023

( sicparvis87 )

Jensen: IT’S ONLY SATURDAY WE GOT A WHOLE OTHER DAY, PACE YOURSELF! (to Danneel) have YOU been pacing yourself? Danneel : No! (x)

“are you ready for this?” - jensen to danneel (x)

Ok, so. Danneel’s first con was a Starfury. Jensen said she shouldn’t brag. And a bit later Jensen said he had the dancing covered. (x)

“as long as there’s no dancing i’ll be fine” “it’s okay i have that covered” (x)

“we’ve got to develop some projects currently in development” (x)

Jensen saying he’s really proud of what they’ve been doing with the Winchesters and what’s in the work. (x)

“i wanna work with the people i know i trust and who are outstanding human beings” (x)

Dream projects? Jensen: “Ruth would obviously be the star.” (Ruth is watching from the balcony.) “Oh hey, Ruth, didn’t see you there.” He wants to work with the people he trusts, outstanding human beings. (x)

Jensen: “we’ve had 15 years to weed out the bad people, I’m not sure how Mark Sheppard is still here…” (x)

Jensen just wants to work with the people he’s got to work with who are just good people. It’s gotta be grounded in love, family, a tad of humor and a little magic. (x)

“it’s gotta have heart, humour and a little bit of magic” the unofficial tagline of their company (x)

Jensen helping Danneel count for how many years they’ve been together when she started as Anael on SPN (x)

How was it working on set. Danneel struggles with how long she’s been together with Jensen. Jensen knows it would’ve been 12 seasons when she came in at 13 and is proud he knows. (x)

Jensen immediately asked “IS THAT ON THE GAG REEL” when Danneel fell during her first scene on SPN (x)

“i did not act like a husband in that moment” jensen too focused on getting danneels gag reel moment on film instead of helping her (x)

Danneel put together a whole playlist for The Winchesters before they even cast anyone, and a lot of it actually made it onto the show. They chose “I’d Love To Change The World” which in the pilot FIRST. (x)

Which scene with music from The Winchesters did they like most? Danneel put together a playlist before they even cast, a lot of it made it on the show. “10 years after”/I love to change the world” (?) really set the tone. (x) But a lit of songs they wanted were too expensive to afford. On SPN, as production got more expensive, they had to stop using music so much, used more score to save money (x)

“i get to go and destroy some robots in a warehouse? i’m in. i’m easy” (x)

Jensen is easy. When he heard he gets to come on the set and destroy a bunch of robots, he was in, but doesn’t play a lot of video games. Danneel snitches that he plays Mario Cart with the kids almost daily. (x)

Jensen said he doesn't play video game anymore but Danneel said he plays Mario Kart almost everyday with the kids (x)

In his old house pre-Danneel he had a special dark room with two TVs and two couches to play Halo with his friends. (Danneel snitches again.) He plays “blue shy guy” on Mario Cart. (x)

Fan asked if Jensen plays video game and Danneel went “well you play one every day”. And Jensen went “Wordle? … BACKGAMMON?!” (The answer is Mario Kart because he plays it with the kids) (x)

help jensen is so excited to introduce his kids to his fave videos games when they’re older and he also doesn’t always let his kids win video games which danneel finds mean considering he’s competed by 6 year olds (paraphrase) (x)

“I know your next question, it’s ‘what character do I choose on Mario kart’, the answer is blue shy guy. I’m a shy guy ” (x)

Q person reccs Red Dead Redemption. Jensen really wanted The Last of Us, but when he heard Pedro got the job, he knew he had no shot. (x)

Jensen really wanted to be on The Last of Us, then he heard Pedro Pascal got the part and went “oh no he’s PERFECT” (im paraphrasing but he was nerding out ) (x)

They’re talking about recreating the music video for their anniversary. Their friend did it first as a birthday gag. So he suggested they do it “for instagram”. Danneel was like “let’s go”. and they got into a serious fight over who would be Paul Simon (x)

Danneel says they do zero work for instagram content. Q was about the music vid years ago. The Ackles’s argued who plays Chevy and who plays Paul Simon. Jensen complains about having to be the short guy again. He’s gonna get a complex. He yells for Mark to come down. (x)

Danneel telling Jensen he was so good on their anniversary video, and telling him “you were made to play Paul Simon” (x)

“it was very rare for him to be home during the week… for 15 years” (x)

He also said he was really sad his kids wouldn’t get to experience the whole ‘taking the cartridge off and having to blow on it for it to work again’ (x)

Danneel didn’t wanna be in The French Mistake bc it’s “Jensen’s thing” (x)

Karaoke. Danneel only did it once. Sang “Band of the run” and there was a very long musical interlude. It scared her so much she never did it again. Jensen went with the Dawson’s Creek gang and sang “El Paso”. (x)

Everyone put their glass down either in amazement or shock. There’s a plate in a corner of that bar with an etching how great that night was, Jensen jokes. (x)

Editor, director, actor walk into a bar, you can only buy one drink? Danneel: Editor, they can make you look good. Jensen: Would buy himself a drink. (x)

Danneel once got handed a bag with her as a doll filled with fish hooks. She blindly reached in the bag and straight into a hook. (x)

They’re talking about creepy fans, and Danneel just said “they’re not fans of the show, fans of the show don’t do these things” (x)

danneel is telling a story abt her accepting a gift off a fan of her being made into a doll out of fish hooks and she accidentally got hurt and jensen said ‘you know how much i had to PAY for that doll?!’ (x)

Weirdest thing given to Jen and Dee, someone left a dead kitten on their door step (x)

jensens talking about how performing radio company concert for the first time was a very different experience to acting or performing other peoples songs bc with those other two you interpret it your own way but it’s still other peoples words but these were his and steve’s (x)

Playing in Nashville and performing words he actually wrote himself with Steve was “next level”. Danneel adds that he was nervous and he doesn’t get nervous. (x)

“to get out there and perform something you created it’s certainly more of a vulnerability” (x)

danneel watched the concert with the kids on stageit. “they thought it was cool” (x)

The kids were pretty impressed seeing him on stage, but they see him play a lot, because he plays them songs on the piano at home all the time. (x)

their kids have watched the scoobynatural episode so many times (x)

Jensen is talking about fighting to have Dean dying while he was standing instead of how it was originally planned with Dean dying on the floor. (x)

Jensen about Dean’s death: “I don’t have to LIKE it, but I’m proud of it.” (x)

Jensen would change how they handled the Leviathans and get rid of them sooner if he got to change something (x)

What would Dean from s15 tell Dean from s4? Danneel: Beware of vampires! (x)

question about what directors inspired them the most! (Jensen’s answer has been long but he mentioned Kim Manners, Bob Singer and John Showalter) (x)

jensen ensuring he was conscious of every crew members job so that they felt like they had purpose. (x)

Kim Manners and Bob Singer, they both set the tone on the show. Micromanaged. Kim said “you’re gonna direct one day” to Jensen and it got him thinking. It was becausehe was interested in the lenses, lighting & such. (x)

Bob and Phil Sgriccia helped him a lot. Phil said “always have an answer, even if it’s wrong.” Because when you say “you pick” or “whatever” to a Q from someone working for you, you dimish the other person’s job. And you can always change your mind & that tells them you thought (x) about it, thus making their job even more important. (x)

To Danneel; how did you know he (Jensen) was THE ONE? Jensen; *cracks up* Danneel: It was on Ten Inch Hero, I always knew he was cute and all of that, but… It was one of those, we were driving back and forth, and just talking about our future, and our career (x) Danneel: I’m a girl who likes to do things first. (…) At the end of the movie, there’s a scene where I walked up to Priestly and gave him a kiss… That was NOT scripted.(x) Danneel: but obviously Jensen had read the script, he knew it wasn’t scripted. I just knew I had to do something else or it would be too late. (x)

danneel knew by the end of filming ten inch hero once they’d spent time doing long drives talking about their futures and everything and then in the scene where she kisses priestly wasn’t scripted and jensen was like “oh!!!!!! i caught a BIG fish let’s go!” (x) “i like your talent your cute your-” “you were like this one can give me good kids” “yeah i saw you with your nephews and-“ “and you were like this is a good pedigree!” (x)

J-yeah but after we dated when did you know I was the one to marry They went on vacation and her mum knew then D needed to marry him. J-i knew I needed to spend the rest of my life impressing her (x)

When did Danneel know that Jensen was the one? They were friends before but thought they would never be together. They carpooled to the Ten Inch Hero set. 40 mins each way, just talking about the future, how they were raised, carreer… (x) She always knew Jensen was cute, but those talks really did it. In the last scene of the movie, the little kiss between their characters wasn’t scripted, that was Danneel making the first move. (x) Jensen immediately knew it was a big fish snd went “bzzzz” (reeling in noise). Jensen prods when she knew he was the one to marry though. They went on a family trip. Then Jensen knew he’d spend the rest of his life trying to impress her. Danneel’s mom knew they were it too. (x)

Jensen: “I’m gonna try to impress for the rest of my life… Still hasn’t done it! I’m gonna keep trying to.” (x)

Danneel said she was really nervous up until she did her first photo ops and everyone was so nice to her (x)

( MurielFPhotos )

#Jensen Ackles #Danneel Ackles #BrightonCon2023 #CrossRoads6 #CR6 #Jensen: Panel Highlights #*

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lunarcrown · 9 months

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Question! But how did you get into doing tattoos? :D

OOOO!!! Ok so I ACTUALLY wanted to be a stop motion animation and I have my bachelors in it and EVERYTHING….(pictured: me on a set WAY BACK IN THE DAY animating for my friend)

BUT LIFE HAS CURVEBALLS and mine came in the form of me being really bad at putting myself out there, over saturation of animators in a VERY extra small field, and painful student debt (that still assails me to this day……..OTL I’ll be paying till I’m a billion years old PLEASE DONT TAKE OUT LOANS FOR ART SCHOOL!!!!!!)

SO I kinda bummed around for a while, working shitty jobs (I hate u 7/11) and ok jobs (I love you Barnes and noble) and generally just fuzzy through life, and THEN I had the amazing opportunity to show my portfolio to a tattoo artist that a friend knew!!!! Now I didn’t HAVE a portfolio but BOY HOWDY I MADE ONE!!!!! And he said “ok come be an apprentice” and I said OH HELL YEAH!!!! Now as for my apprenticeship, it was EH…..I taught myself a lot of stuff and I never got hazed but my mentor turned out to be kinda uncool.

BUT I graduated and now I work at a women/queer owned shop where we all do our own appointments so I can make my own schedule and we have gallery nights and it’s AWESOME!!!! I’m still not great at basically being a “small business” and promoting myself but my clients are amazing and I’m hoping to keep growing!!!

And here’s a lil clip of me tattooing at my first ever tattoo convention!!!! YIPPEE!!!

AND the finished tattoo!! (It wrapped a lot/terrible con lighting but it was SICK!!!)

#moonspeak #lyfe #melfase #SORRY I JUST WENT ON AND ON BUT IM REALLY HAPPY WHERE I AM RN IN LIFE!!!#next up #make some sort of dent in my debt and get a house!!!!!!!!#my tattoos

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artemis-lynn · 3 months

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NEWSIES FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS!

Ok. So. I've been needing to make this for a while, so I'll just put down my favorites in no particular order, it's SO hard to pick...

Summer Camp AUs :3

Mountain Ridge Camp for Boys by timetogoslumming

Javey & Sprace, T, 22/22

This is a really good summer camp AU of newsies! I love how it combines canon plot with a modern AU!

Summary: David was just looking for a summer job when he applied to work at Mountain Ridge Camp for Boys. He had no idea how much would change. For the first time in his life, David is part of a brotherhood, but not everyone is on the same side.

How I Spent My Summer Vacation by studentnumber24601 (Itsy Royal)

Javid & Specs/Dutchy (Sputchy?? Idk, but I <3 this ship) & Blink x OC, T, 40/40

The prank war in this is honestly the best + the reluctant ladies man Mush is LOL, it had me guessing the ships till the very end, especially with Blink.

Summary: Modern-day newsboys at summer camp. Will wacky hijinks ensue? Gee, ya think?

Make Off Like a Band(it) by thespiritscalling

Sprace, G, 14/14

OMG. It's the funniest summer camp au I've read that sheds light on band camp (I'm an orchestra kid so this was hilarious to me). I especially love the That's Amore remix near the end lmaoo

Summary: It's the summer after graduation. Race is ready to hit the road- metaphorically, of course- but before that happens, it's time for one last stint at the Camp To End All Camps: band camp. Armed with nothing more than a French horn, two best friends, and reckless abandon, Race decides it's going to be the best final year of camp anyone's ever had. It'll be full of excitement, laughter, music, and an absurd crush on the lead trumpet player. Wait. What?

Canon Era :3

Their Mistake Is They Got Old by PenzyRome

David & Katherine, but the side ships are Newsbians and Javey, T, One Shot

You're gonna need the tissues for this one. I literally sob every time I read it, it's literally one of the best fics I've ever read. It's poetically tragic and heartbreaking and beautiful and HOLY CRAP!

Summary: Katherine Plumber, 17, had been so sure that she could stay the same, that she could stop the world, that she'd stay young forever. The world kept moving, though, no matter how hard she tried to stop it, and it forced her to move with it.

When Manhattan Met Brooklyn by warrior_sif

No ships cause they're kids, T, 4/4 (but the second one isn't finished :( )

Wow. Just wow. This one is honestly sad and I love the brother relationship between Jack, Race, and Spot and how Jack feels abandoned, like Race chose Spot over him. READ IT.

Summary: The only Manhattan newsies that Spot Conlon deals with are Jack and Race. A look back at how they met, eight years before the strike, when neither Jack nor Spot were leaders and Race just wants to sell at the racetracks.

False Rumors and The Truth Behind Them by FrogmanFae

Sprace, M, One Shot

This one is...heavy. The Refuge is such a bad place :( I love it though, the writing is beautiful.

Summary: Rumor has it that Spot Conlon and Racetrack Higgins met when Race started selling in Brooklyn because of his love for gambling. That isn't as true as the other boys in their lodging houses tend to make it seem. Though, they don't necessarily mind the false rumors. They hide the much darker truth. The truth that still causes Race to make the walk from Manhattan to Brooklyn in the middle of the night sometimes, even several years later. Or...It's pretty easy to form connections with someone you're forced into sharing a bed with while you're both being tortured.

The King & The Cowboy by goldenbiebah

Sparah <3, Spot/Sarah/Jack love triangle, T, 11/? (not completed :sob: )

I love this one, it really touches on how Jack is kinda toxic and how Sarah can have someone wayyyy better *cough* Spot *cough*

Summary: Spot Conlon and Jack Kelly are the fearless leaders of all the newsies in Brooklyn and Manhattan. They have a perfect system and hundreds of boys who respect and look up to them. But what will happen when the two leaders let selfishness and pride break up their friendship? And what happens when Spot's dark past begins to catch up with him? And where does Sarah Jacobs fit into all of this? Find out in The King & The Cowboy. Fights will break out, romances will clash, and lives will be lost in an epic struggle to salvage both new and old relationships.

Modern AUs :3

We Are Newsies by VeronicaWeasley (this is my sole ff.net one but likeeee it's too good to be ignored)

There are so many ships that I can't remember but I do know Sprace is one, T, 80/80 (I know that's a lot but it is SO worth it holy frick)

Ok. So. This one is like SO good. It's my fav high school AU because it has a really genius way of incorporating the canon plot with the perfect amount of angst, fluff, and more! :D

Summary: The same old story, the same old song. A tale in which the newsies of Lower Manhattan go on strike, and David Jacobs gets roped into it. High School AU set in 1999. Told through the eyes of multiple characters.

Captivity by Hexmari

No ships :), M, One Shot

I LOVEEE this one it's so crazy and you're in for a wild ride when (it's so cute that you think I'm letting that be an if :) ) you read it.

Summary:

“Ma– you seriously can’t do this to us!” Jack argued, “I mean it's Halloween!”

Charlie was quick to back his older brother up, “Yeah, do you want us to become hermits? Because that's what keeping us captive here all night will do!”

Medda rolled her eyes, “You will not become hermits by staying in for one night. It won’t be too bad, you can break into our Halloween candy and put on some horror movies, and Ester will be here with David soon. No kids are going out tonight, it’s just a safety precaution. Especially because of recent events.”

~🎃~

When a kid in their town goes missing, paranoid parents decide to keep their kids home on Halloween. Even after their mom forbids them from going out Jack, Race, Charlie, and their friend David sneak out, coming up with a theory that their old neighbor is behind the boy's disappearance.

The Beast of Brooklyn by ArtemisRayne

Sprace + side Javey, M, 26/26

This one is soooo worth staying up late for, it's amazing in every way and my heart aches for Spottie boy. And Race. And Jack. And David. But mainly Spot :)

Summary:

Racetrack Higgins always thought it would be his own vices that got him into trouble one day; turns out it's his Ma who does it for him. When Ma Higgins crosses the local drug lord and leaves him high and dry with a target on his back, Race's saved by a mysterious stranger who gives him a safe place to hide—a short-tempered and anti-social stranger covered in horrifying scars, with a past as dark as the marks on his body. However, the longer Race spends in the Brooklyn house, the more he comes to discover about the boy beneath the scars: a boy who is just as trapped as Race and twice as damaged. Befriending the two men who live in as hired help, and chipping away at the mysterious "boss" and his walls, Race might even manage to find a place to call home.*Beauty & the Beast/Beastly AU fusion*

Forever With You by 손 현숙 (safarikalamari)

Sprace, T, 14/14

ajlskdfjalkjdkajl this one is so sweet. The concept of it is super interesting and I just LOVE ittttttt.

Summary: In 1899, Spot Conlon is the leader of the Brooklyn newsies, writing away his thoughts and hiding them inside his desk for safekeeping. Meanwhile, in 1999, Tony Higgins receives an antique desk for his birthday and finds an old letter stuffed in one of the slots, the name, Spot, his only lead in this mystery. What becomes of that summer is a series of time-traveling letters, falling in love, and the realization that Spot and Tony know each other better than the two ever could have imagined.

Pirate AUs :3

The Truth About The Stars by ArtemisRayne

Javey + side Sprace, T, 10/10 (long chapters but it's worth it!)

OMG. This one is amazingggggggggggggggggggggggg I love the fantasy/pirate twist on the best movie/musical on the planet Earth!

Summary: The rest of the world might not think Jack Kelly is destined for much, but Jack knows better. He just needs to get away from the city, to some place where he can be more than just another nameless orphan in the chaos of New York City. So when someone offers to pay his way to Santa Fe in exchange for crossing the Wall and retrieving a fallen star, he jumps at the chance. He just wasn't expecting the star to be so, well, human. Jack makes a deal with the fallen star named David to get them both home, but the magical kingdom of Stormhold has so much more in store for them both. People are tracking David, secrets from Jack's past leave him in danger as well, and injustice is rampant in the kingdom. Throw in a climate of political upheaval, a renegade noblewoman, and a crew of fugitive sky pirates, and soon all of Stormhold will know that change is coming.

A Pirate's Life Is Never Easy by ChaosFairytale <3

Sprace + side Blush & Bumlets x Swifty, M, 9/? (it's an ongoing one shot series that has frequent updates)

OML I LOVE U SO MUCH CHAOS YOU'RE MY FAVORITE FANFIC WRITER AND I LIVE FOR YOUR WRITING TYSM FOR EXISTING!!!!! Her writing is the best and this is such a good story! (read Toss A Coin To Your Pirate first)

Summary: A Pirate's story doesn't start easy and it won't end easy, but there are many fantastic stories to tell throughout it. A series of One-Shots set in the "Toss a coin to your Pirate" universe containing different POVs, Backstory of a lot of characters and shorter stories about the relationships of the characters over the years.

Toss A Coin To Your Pirate by ChaosFairytale <333

Sprace + side Javid and Blush, M, 2/2

YUSSS CHAOS AGAIN!!!! <3 a million kudos. She writes almost exclusively about 92sies and I'm so here for it! READ THIS!!!!!!

Summary: Racetrack hadn't expected to see his hook-up ever again and had certainly not expected him to be the feared pirate Spot Conlon, but he also didn't have time to worry about that right now since his captain, Jack, desperately needed his help. He'd wonder later how he could maybe seduce the pirate captain once more. Because you'd miss every shot you didn't take, right?

Drumroll please...my all time favorite fanfiction....

FIVE by stress

Sparah + Davey/OC/Jack love triangle <3, T, 11/11

I finished reading this last night and got literal chills. The plot twist is wild and I love it so much, but you might need the tissues again! Can't spoil, but you NEEEEEEEEEEEEED to read it >:( It is the absolute best piece of reading on the Earth and I can't get over this. It's just...wild.

Summary: A lot can happen in five years. Don't believe me? Ask David. Ask Spot. Ask Jack, or Racetrack. You can even ask Oscar Delancey. They know. They're the five who've been waiting for this moment. Waiting for what? They'll never tell - but this story will.

Idk if I should be doing this....but I'm gonna plug my own work and also give a fanfic update!

What Feels Like a Thousand Years by yours truly, ArtemisLynn

Sprace + mentioned Jatherine, G (?), One Shot

I'm honestly so proud of this one, it's one of the best pieces of writing I have ever done...

Summary: War has always been a foreign concept to Racetrack Higgins.. Even when America goes to war in 1941, he never gives it much thought....until it hits a little too close to home and his secret boyfriend, Spot Conlon, is drafted into the U.S Army. Will he make it home safely, or will Racetrack's one and only love be lost overseas...forever?

I also have chapter 1 of Jack Kelly's Guide to Being a Parent out, though I don't know if I'm going to complete it....

Fics I'm working on: -I have a couple chapters of this one boarding school newsies modern AU I'm doing done but not posted

-A Sparah fanfic that currently is in the early stages

-A Sparah princess bride AU in the planning process

-I'm toying with the idea of a newsies Descendants AU....thoughts?

Damn this post became long. ANYWAYS. Bye and have a great (insert timezone)!!!

<3 Artie

#if yall can't tell by now im such a fricking sparah shipper it aint even funny #newsies 1992 #92sies #newsies #spot conlon #davey jacobs #david jacobs #livesies #racetrack higgins #newsies broadway #newsies live #even more charactesr i dont feel like tagging :)#newsies fanfic #fanfiction recommendation #fanfiction rec list #i'll add more later #bye bye now

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jackoshadows · 2 years

Text

Benioff and Weiss had Arya sailing away on a boat at the end because according to them Arya’s story over 5 books is her having ‘cool badass’ adventures!

It’s bad writing, it’s NOT THE BOOKS, and anyone trying to argue that the show’s ending for Arya is going to be her book ending should be embarrassed to call themselves a reader of ASoIaF.

This is how David Benioff and Dan Weiss described Arya’s arc in the books, downplaying Arya’s trauma and suffering in order to prop up Sansa.

Benioff: [Sansa] just seems really believable, and also she goes on one of the most interesting journeys, because she doesn’t start out as someone who is sharp, and shrewd and tough, but she becomes that person.

Arya is kind of always there—which is what’s great about Arya—but Sansa had to get there by painful experiences. She’s always been one of my favorite characters.

Weiss: In a way, Sansa has to face harder choices. Arya always has a pretty clear path, like: “What’s a cool, badass thing to do and I’m going to do that thing.”

Benioff and Weiss haven’t a) Read the books. At the Oxford Union discussion they didn’t know Sam Tarly was a POV character until John Bradley told them!

or b) Don’t understand the themes and character arcs that the author is telling in his story. Remember according to them ‘Themes are for 8th grade book reports’ and not important.

or c) Have read the books, and yet don’t care about the story GRRM is telling, instead putting their own spin on these characters based on the actors.

Meanwhile Book Arya:

“She could feel the hole inside her every morning when she woke. … It was a hollow place, an emptiness where her heart had been, where her brothers had lived, and her parents. … The hole will never feel any better, she told herself when she went to sleep.

Some mornings Arya did not want to wake at all. … If the Hound would only have left her alone, she would have slept all day and all night.” (Arya XII, ASOS)

“She could feel the hole inside her where her heart had been.” (Arya II, AFFC)

Just a reminder that in the books Arya Stark goes through an absolutely harrowing and traumatizing journey after she flees KL and the Lannister guards send after her by Cersei.

TWoW Arya:

Half-light filled the room, grey and gloomy. Shivering, she sat up in bed and ran a hand across her scalp. Stubble bristled against her palm. I need to shave before Izembaro sees. Mercy, I’m Mercy, and tonight I’ll be raped and murdered. Her true name was Mercedene, but Mercy was all anyone ever called her…

Dan Weiss reading 11 year old Arya shaving her head, getting ready to be raped in a play - ‘Wow, this is so cool and badass!‘

Also, the way they talk about Arya having a clear path and no hard choices to make, meanwhile:

Arya watched them die and did nothing. What good did it do you to be brave? One of the women picked for questioning had tried to be brave, but she had died screaming like all the rest. There were no brave people on that march, only scared and hungry ones. - Arya, ACoK

Arya deciding to make her escape from Harrenhal, Arya deciding to rescue Gendry at great risk, Arya taking along Weasel at great risk, Arya being ordered to kill the insurance agent, Arya deciding to keep Needle. And these hacks think that Arya has a clear path and no hard choices?!

Dan Weiss about Needle:

Arya's gotten very good at letting go, she's been forced to let go of everything that means anything to her in this r53world. And she does a great job getting rid of that costume and getting rid of her money and getting rid of the coin, but Needle was a very, very special gift. She sees herself as an instrument of revenge in many ways in this world and that sword is the way she's going to exact that revenge on the people who wronged her family. It's the instrument of that revenge. Letting go of Needle would really be letting go of Arya Stark, and the fact that she can't let go of Needle makes it clear to us that she's not at all ready to be no one.

In the books:

Needle was Winterfell’s grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan’s stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow’s smile.

Polliver had stolen the sword from her when the Mountain’s men took her captive, but when she and the Hound walked into the inn at the crossroads, there it was. The gods wanted me to have it. Not the Seven, nor Him of Many Faces, but her father’s gods, the old gods of the north. The Many-Faced God can have the rest, she thought, but he can’t have this. - Arya, AFfC

GRRM about Arya and Needle:

- Needle! The last link to Winterfell and Arya. The Faceless Men want her to give it up because they recognize it’s importance.

Arya is missing her family and home in KL right from her second POV chapter in AGoT!

The rest of the time, they ate in his solar, just him and her and Sansa. That was when Arya missed her brothers most. She wanted to tease Bran and play with baby Rickon and have Robb smile at her. She wanted Jon to muss up her hair and call her “little sister” and finish her sentences with her. But all of them were gone. [---]

Arya had loved nothing better than to sit at her father’s table and listen to them talk. She had loved listening to the men on the benches too; to freeriders tough as leather, courtly knights and bold young squires, grizzled old men-at-arms. She used to throw snowballs at them and help them steal pies from the kitchen. Their wives gave her scones and she invented names for their babies and played monsters-and maidens and hide-the-treasure and come-into-my-castle with their children. [--]

Only that was Winterfell, a world away, and now everything was changed. This was the first time they had supped with the men since arriving in King’s Landing. Arya hated it. - Arya, AGoT

Arya missing her home and family in every book, wanting to desperately go home, trying her very best to first get to Robb and Cat and then Jon Snow and failing and losing hope and only being with the FM because as GRRM says’ where else does she have to turn to’.

And Jon is waiting for her in the North. The two characters with the closest bond. Jon is trying to save her. There’s an entire plot about the North rising up for Arya Stark.

It’s very, very clear that Benioff and Weiss didn’t care to understand Arya as a character, weren’t interested in writing for her other than as a one-dimensional killer/assassin having bad-ass adventures and the final insult being Michelle Clapton saying that Arya was just passing through when talking about Arya finally, finally getting to Winterfell as reason for why Sansa gets all the Stark sigils and clothing and not Arya.

They sidelined the Starkiest Stark - Arya - and Bran and Jon and killed off Rickon so that they could turn Sansa into The Stark ™

Reminder from D&D themselves:

and GRRM:

#Arya Stark #asoiaf #anti GOT #anti D&D #Sansa Stark #Jon Snow #Game of Thrones #A Song of Ice and Fire

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ladyescapism · 8 months

Text

The Fourth Archeron Sister

summary: the baby of the family, Deirdre Archeron, is growing up and finding herself. on place she has already found is in a unknowingly requited crush with a certain shadow singer. will they be able to find each other? or will expectations, honor, and other forces get in the way?

Part 2

a/n: I think that this is going to be a 5 or 6 part series. i have the first 3 written and will post the other parts soon. happy reading!

warnings: none, I think

wc: 2,100

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She had been a mere six years of age when her mother died. She barely recalled the day she walked into her mother’s room, clutching Feyre’s hand. All she could really remember was her mother stroking her hair and whispered out her name. At least what started out as her name and then quickly faded into a cough.

Deirdre had always been a sickly child. Every winter she got a nasty cough that lasted further and further into the spring every year, until it never went away fully. Her sisters would be banned from seeing her when she was sick, for fear of them catching whatever she had.

Most nights, Feyre sat right outside the door and told Deirdre about what was happening that day with their father’s business or whatever she had done earlier. Elain would sometimes tag along and tell Deirdre about the flowers she had discovered in the garden.

Sometimes, when they were in the mood for trouble, Deirdre sat in the center of her room and Feyre would sit in the doorway so they could see each other as they spoke. Once, Nesta walked past and Deirdre recognized her only by the scowl she threw in her direction.

Nesta never sat with her.

By the time the Archerons lost all of their money and moved into the cottage and Feyre eventually ventured into the woods, Deirdre had turned 11 years old. Even though their home and family had changed, some things stayed the same. She was still sickly, Elain still rambled about flowers, Nesta was still mean, and Feyre was still reliable.

Deirdre tried to ease the burden Feyre had on her shoulders. In the summer months, when the cough wasn’t as bad, she took job as a laundress. The steam helped her lungs feel better, but she was paid little and was always the last to be given work.

Tamlin came when she was 16, stealing her favorite sister and shattering their already broken family. It did not matter to Deirdre that the lost shipments were found. The medicine was nice, as was having a live-in healer in the winter months, but she would have given it all back to have Feyre home.

The mark Nesta left on her face when she expressed that sentiment lasted for weeks.

She jolted back into the present as Nyx shouted in delight at one of his many Solstice gifts.

Her peace didn’t last long as her brother-in-law nudged her shoulder. Deirdre turned to look at him to where he was standing behind the sofa.

“Yes” Deirdre asked, not having heard what he had said.

“I asked you what was wrong,” Cassian said, amused. “You have been staring into the fire for going on five minutes.”

“Oh, just thinking.”

“About?”

Deirdre looked into his handsome face and remembered when Feyre came home as fae and she met him and his brothers.

Nesta and Elain kept their distance when Feyre came home taller, ears pointed, and with that fae-like glow they all shared now. Deirdre had never run faster into her sister’s arms and staying like that until the sobs ceased.

Then she met the brothers.

To say she had been intimidated was putting it lightly. The males were menacing even as they tried to make conversation with the sisters. Nesta scowling, Elain nearly trembling, and Deirdre sat in quite curiosity, afraid to offend the males with her questions.

She would ask eventually, though.

“Deirdre,” Cassian groaned. “Get out of your head and join the party.”

“First of all, I am at the party,” she said, matter-of-factly. “And secondly, there is nothing wrong with being in my head. Although I can see how if the notion was applied to you, people would be frightened.”

Cassian gave a small frown and Azriel let out a barely audible chuckle.

At that dinner so many years ago now, Dierdre had finally understood what all her ‘friends’ had been talking about when they spoke of the men they found attractive. They way her heart fluttered when she saw him, the butterflies in her stomach, the sweaty palms. No human man had ever made her feel that way. She had seen handsome men, but no one compared to the Shadow Singer.

No one had, his eyes, his hands, his jaw line that was perpetually covered in just a dusting of stubble or anything else she found attractive in him. His presence, his observant nature, his soft, yet deep voice that felt like a warm blanket coming over her when he spoke to her.

“What do you mean?” Cassian said, feigning offence. “I am a joy to be around, inside and out. Right, Nesta?”

Her eldest sister looked up from her conversation with Mor, hand resting on her well-rounded belly.

“Yes, dear,” Nesta said with a smirk. “You are a joy to be inside.”

Azriel let out a more substantial laugh as Mor and Rhys cackled.

Rhys, Mor and Nesta all began cajoling a now grumpy Cassian and Dierdre felt a strange spike of jealousy pierce her chest. She knew at what. Nesta made Azriel laugh more than she did.

Don’t be dumb, Deirdre scolded to herself. Nesta has a mate already and not to mention, you have no right to him. Just a stupid crush that should have gone away ages ago.

“What were you thinking about,” Azriel asked.

“My life before you came,” she said honestly.

When Azriel raised his eyebrows, she quickly added on.

“Well, you know. Before Feyre was taken by Tamlin and then when she came home fae and everything with Hybern and life since then. Just everything I have to be grateful for. Including all the extensions to our family. Like you.”

Deirdre decided that she had had enough wine for the night after that little ramble. Azriel just sat there with the faintest smile on his face as she went on.

He’s too kind to have to put up with my nonsense, Deirdre thought to herself. Just leave him alone.

Deirdre was about to get up to go feign going to the bathroom when Azriel spoke.

“I think about life a lot, too. Looking back, I didn’t recognize happy moments for what they were and focused on the past. I try not to do that now, but I still get stuck.”

“I think you have to know sadness and struggle to be able to fully recognize the happy times.”

“You’ve gotten wise in your old age, Dierdre Archeron.”

They drifted off into a comfortable silence.

“Yes or no?” Deirdre started the game she played with the brothers when she first became fae. “This is a happy moment.”

“Yes,” he said with certainty. “But you don’t need me to tell you that.”

“Nah, I was just making sure you knew.”

He just smiled at her, and she could have died happy right there.

His eyes are just so damn pretty, the now tipsy voice in Deirdre’s head thought as he looked into her eyes. All of him is too damn pretty.

Somehow, she managed not to tell him that.

Deirdre looked at the clock and noticed that it was almost two in the morning and decided she needed to go home.

Feyre and Rhys tried to convince her to stay the night, but she wanted to return to her own space.

“I want to take in the night air,” she insisted.

“You’ll catch your death out there,” Feyre accused.

“I’m fine, Feyre. The Cauldron fixed that for me, remember.”

Feyre got quiet.

“Still better not to risk it. Besides there are a hundred other bad things that can happen to a girl, alone, at night.”

Before Deirdre could continue arguing with her sister, Azriel offered a suggestion.

“I’ll fly her home.”

“No, I really want to walk.”

“Then we’ll walk.”

“No-“

“You walk with him, winnow, or stay here,” Rhys interrupted.

“Ugh fine,” she conceded, knowing that once Feyre and Rhys teamed up on her, there would be no arguing with them. “We’ll walk.”

Dierdre kissed Feyre and Rhys on the cheek, everyone else either in bed by now or still partying.

“Happy Birthday, sister.”

“Thank you, dove.”

They said their goodbyes and goodnights and they walked out the door.

After about a block, Deirdre turned her head to Azriel and offered a suggestion she knew would be shot down.

“I can walk home by myself you know,” she said, trying to sound strong. “I don’t need a chaperone.”

He just gave her a look and knew that Azriel would be walking her to her apartment door and might check that there were no intruders when they got there.

“Why dove?” he asked, probably trying to keep her from asking to walk home alone again.

“When I was an infant, apparently whenever I saw Feyre, I would make this cooing noise,” she offered with no hesitation. “Feyre noticed that I would only make it when she was in my line of sight and decided that I sounded like a dove. And then proceed to call me that ever since.”

He made a small noise of understanding.

“My father used to call me ‘Dew Drop,’” she said with no prompting. “He said my eyes looked like the sky reflected in the morning dew, so he deemed me Dew Drop. I don’t think anyone else has nick name for me. Unless you count Nesta calling me a rat my whole life.”

“I don’t.”

“Anyway, she said she called me a rat because I was small and carried disease. Feyre used to tell her to stop all the time, but she still would when Feyre was out hunting. I didn’t want to cause a fight, so I didn’t tell Feyre.”

Deirdre’s rant faded and after a minute Azriel’s voice cut through the night.

“My mother called me ‘my light.’ I don’t know why.”

“That’s lovely.”

The conversation ended as they entered Deirdre’s building and began to climb the stairs to her third story apartment.

When they got to her door, Deirdre unlocked it and just as she expected, Azriel followed her in, flipped on the lights, and scanned the room, peeking into her bedroom as well.

“Making sure I’m not hiding a boyfriend in here?” she joked.

“The shadows told me that there was no one in here before we got to the second story. I was double checking.”

“Oh, so just making sure I know how to keep house.”

“I really don’t care about whether you made your bed this morning.”

She giggled a little.

“Can I get you anything to drink, or eat?” she said, trying to move the conversation away from her cluttered home. “Water, perhaps? I made some cookies the other day that should still be good. Well, milk would go better with cookies, and I have that too if you want.”

Why can’t I ever play it cool around him? she thought. He’s a grown ass male. He doesn’t want milk and cookies.

“I would love some.”

“I will get them then.”

Whew.

She fixed the plate of cookies and two glasses of milk from the ice box and went to move some of the books currently piling her small table.

Azriel beat her to it and looked at the titles before he placed them on the already cluttered coffee table.

“‘Lessons in Love’ doesn’t seem to fit in with ‘The History of Pyrthian: Volume Six.’”

“Well, a young lady has got to be educated in many subjects if she is to be pleasant company to those around her,” Deirdre said, quoting the mistress Nesta hired to “train the embarrassing nature” out of Deirdre.

“Educated,” Azriel mused.

“Yes,” she affirmed, breaking a cookie in half and dipping into the glass. “It’s not like there is anyone around to teach me much about either subject.”

“You could ask me.”

She damn near dropped the cookie. And then she felt the flush creeping up her neck and onto her face.

Gods, yes.

No, Deirdre! What the fuck?

“The history,” Azriel rushed out. “I meant the history.”

“I- uh… excuse me,” she managed.

She walked quickly into her bedroom and trough to the bathroom. She splashed her face with water, waited two minutes, flushed the toilet, and washed her hands.

When she came back out, Azriel was standing behind his chair looking very uncomfortable.

Ugh, she thought. I did that. Of course, Azriel, Spymaster of the Night Court and winner of the ‘Most Attractive Male in Pyrthian’ award five centuries in a row would offer to have sex with you, dumbass.

“I’m going to go home now,” he said stiffly. “Thank you for the cookies. They were delicious.”

“Okay,” she said with just as much tension in her voice. “I’ll walk you out.”

She followed him to the door.

“Good night,” she said, trying to make her voice light.

“Good night.”

Deirdre walked into her room and changed into a night gown.

As she collapsed on the bed, she pondered just how much she messed up her and Azriel’s relationship.

tag list:

@feysandzoyalailover @fanfictioniseverything @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @singhillada @marina468

#acotar #acotar imagine #acotar angst #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst #azriel fic #eris x oc #azriel #acotar fic #unknowingly requited #idiots in love #feyre archeron #rhysand #cassian #nesta archeron

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wrenreid · 2 years

Text

Off Limits

content warnings: daddy issues

Part Eight

“Jade,” my father’s voice follows his knocking on my door. “Jade, can I come in?”

I’m still laying in bed, but I’ve been awake for about an hour. It’s around 10am, and I’ve just been on my phone.

“Please?”

“If you have coffee, then yes,” I say.

My father comes into my bedroom. “No coffee, but I do have an apology.”

“I’m listening,” I tell him, not even looking up from my phone.

“Could you at least look at me?”

I look up, setting my phone on my chest.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. You’re an adult, and you can go to parties if you want to. It won’t keep me from worrying because that’s my job as your father, but I’ll try to stop commenting on it,” my father tells me.

I’m almost so shocked that I could laugh. I don’t, but I could. I don’t think he’s ever apologized for something like this. He always validated his judgmental and overprotective habits by saying he’s not just my father, but he’s also an FBI agent and knows what goes on in the world.

That has always annoyed me. I know what goes on in the world too. Hell, my Mother died from part of what goes on in the world. But that doesn’t mean I should live in fear and shy away from having fun. It just means I need to know how to handle myself. I need to be cautious but not so cautious to where it takes over my entire life. I’m not going to lock myself in my apartment and be scared of the life outside of it.

“Thank you for the apology,” I say, sitting up a little straighter. “I think you need to worry a little less about what I’m doing in my life and focus more on the kid you have that needs you more.”

Dad sighs, but nods. “Are you saying you don’t need me?”

“I’ll always need you, but Jack is a lot younger than I am. He still needs you to make sure he takes a bath,” I say with a soft smile. “Just let me be 21, okay?”

Another sigh releases from his lips. “Okay. There’s breakfast downstairs if you’re hungry.”

I give him a thumbs up, and he leaves my room.

I think that was some father - daughter progress right there. I don’t trust that he’s going to be off my back, but I have hope that he’ll keep to his word and chill out a little.

Dad, Jack, and I have family time for four days until Dad is called about a case in Michigan. He’s hesitant to go at first, but I tell him it’s fine.

I’m used to him grabbing the duffel bag he always keeps packed and heading out the door with a kiss on my forehead. What’s new?

I’m a little annoyed, though. Four days was all we had until he flew off to another state.

“You’re missing my recital?” An 11 year old Jade whined, my arms crossed.

“I’m so sorry, princess. I have to go to work,” Dad said, that black duffel bag in his hand.

“But you just got home! And I’m going to be in the front!” I felt the tears welling up in my eyes, and I choked them back.

My father frowned, sighing softly. He bent down to my level, holding my hand. “Mom will video it for me. I have to go help people. Do you understand?”

I nodded, but I hardly understood, especially at a young age.

When I was around seven years old, my mom put me in dance classes to occupy some of my time and allow me to have an activity that would get my energy out. I loved it, but I wouldn’t say I was great at it. I stayed in the classes until I was 12 and was tired of my dad never being able to make any of the recitals or daddy- daughter rehearsals since he joined the BAU.

He gave me a small, relieved smile before kissing my forehead. “I’ll be back soon. You’ll do amazing tomorrow.” He kissed my disappointed looking mother quickly then went out the door.

Jack and I are left alone for some sibling bonding time, which usually means watching and playing whatever he wants. I guess I don’t mind too much; I have nothing better to do on a Wednesday afternoon.

A part of me wishes Spencer was here with us again. He would have entertained Jack easily and said some interesting facts stored in his magnificent brain. He’s also not a bad sight to look at.

—————

“You do not have to do that,” I tell my boss assuringly.

“Oh c’mon, let me pay you back somehow,” he says, using his stern voice.

“Okay,” I press my lips together and nod.

Hotch suggested he take me out to dinner as a thank you for watching over Jack last week. I don’t think it necessary since it wasn’t any trouble, but he insists.

I wonder if Jade would be there when he buys me dinner. A part of me hopes she won’t be, but another part wants to see her again.

I don’t know why I’ve been thinking about her as much as I have. It’s not as if she is all I think about, but I find her sneaking her way into my thoughts when I’m eating popcorn or even playing chess.

I tell myself it’s not wrong to think about a person. We as humans think about billions of things, and other humans are a part of those thoughts. But it still feels like I am doing something I shouldn’t when I see her face in my mind.

You’d think someone as smart as I am would understand why she’s inhabiting my brain at least a few times a day, but I haven’t.

The jet ride is finally over, and the six of us step onto solid ground.

For the next two days and two nights, we’re in Michigan solving a case of four murders.

It’s Friday afternoon when we’re back in Quantico, and Hotch is still determined to buy my dinner. I agree when he says to meet him at the restaurant at 7.

After finishing paperwork, I leave the office around three.

—————

“Well, yeah we’re going with you,” I tell Dad, “I don’t want to cook dinner.”

He laughs softly. “Alright. Be ready by 6:30.”

I’m glad he wasn’t gone for too long. There’s no telling how many days cases will take. Some take two, and some can take up to a week or two.

I take a shower at 5, giving myself enough time to let it air dry most of the way before using a little heat.

Dad hates when I take my phone into the bathroom with me when I’m showering. It’s not like he thinks I’m taking pictures or anything- or at least I assume he doesn’t think that. But he’s always scolding me about the steam getting into my charging port and fucking up my phone, which he reminds me every time that he will not buy me a new one so I learn my lesson. Of course, he would buy me a new one because he needs to call me three times a day while I’m at school just to see how and what I’m doing.

I sing along to the music playing from my phone that rests on the counter top. As one can see, I’m not very keen on listening.

Once I’m sure I’ve taken a too-long shower, I step out, dry off, tie my hair up into a t shirt to help dry it, and go to my room.

I throw on some straight leg jeans that are form fitting around my ass and thighs but flow down the rest of my legs spaciously. I then put on a navy blue long sleeved crop top and my white hightop converse.

After my hair dries most of the way, I blow dry it to add some volume. I keep my makeup light, just mascara, eyeliner, and a bit of concealer.

I’m not dressing up for Spencer as much as I almost want to. This is my usual look. Plus, I think if I did dress up a little my dad would notice and I’d be embarrassed as hell.

I meet Jack and Dad at the door at 6:27, and we head out to the restaurant. We park next to Spencer’s car. He’s always early to everything. I admire that.

He gets out, greeting my dad, Jack, then me. He gives me a little wave, seeming awkward and almost nervous. I shoot him a smile.

Spencer opens the door for us. “Thank you,” I say softly as I walk past him.

The dinner’s going well. Dad and Spencer are making conversation, and me and my brother are brought into it occasionally.

We’re waiting for our food when Jack stands up, doing his little ‘I’ve got to pee’ dance. Dad takes him to the bathroom.

“So how was the case?” I ask, resting my head on my hands as I look across the table to Spencer.

“It went well, and it didn’t take too long. Overall successful,” he says nonchalantly.

“What, no interesting facts about it?” I tease, a flirty smile on my face.

I may not be able to act on my crush, but can at least flirt a little.

“Well, I learned what twilight is,” he chuckles softly.

I laugh too. “You’ve never heard of twilight?”

“Not until yesterday, no,” he says innocently, confused as to why I’m shocked.

“It’s a pretty well known franchise.”

“Maybe I should look into them?”

“No,” I laugh a little harder. “You shouldn’t. They’re kind of awful.”

“Oh,” he presses his lips together, his cheeks pink.

I eye him with a smile. “It’s cute when you do that.”

“D-do what?” Spencer asks me. The blush on his cheeks gets darker, and he avoids eye contact.

“That,” I giggle softly. “The nervous lip thing and looking down.”

“Thank you?” He clears his throat nervously.

“You’re welcome, doctor,” I say with a grin.

Before I’m about to say something else flirty, my dad comes back with Jack. They sit down, and I sit up straight before giving Spencer a look.

He’s adorable when he’s flustered. And I probably, no I definitely, shouldn’t be teasing him like this, but what’s the harm in flirting? I probably won’t see him again for a while.

It’s also refreshing to flirt with someone who doesn’t try to fuck you after you say one thing. Instead he’s all red faced and nervous. I like it.

Maybe I’ll have to toy with this a little more. I need something to entertain me.

—————

I feel like a blubbering mess.

What was she doing? Was that flirting? I think so. But why?

Jade made me feel something that I definitely shouldn’t have. I was all hot and nervous, and my stomach was fluttering.

I’ve been flirted with before, sure usually it’s prostitutes and older women, but it’s still flirting. So why is it that when Jade did it I could barely say anything, and I just sat there blushing?

I was sort of relieved when the night ended, and I went back to my apartment. It’s not that I didn’t want to see her, because for whatever reason I did, but I needed to get away from all the blushing and butterflies in my stomach.

My boss’s daughter should not be making me blush and queazy. She shouldn’t be flirting with me either, and I shouldn’t allow it… but I kind of liked it. At least just a little bit.

It was just one little flirty conversation though. We won’t see each other often anymore because she’s not in the city much, and I’m busy with work. Good.

I couldn’t help but notice her scent and smile as she walked past me earlier when I held the door open for her. Her beautiful fragrance hit my nose and made me want to follow her mindlessly like those stupid, no talking cartoons like Tom and Jerry. Jade flashed me a smile too, a friendly, and now that I’m thinking about it, flirty smile.

I’ve got to get her off my mind. She’s my boss’s kid, and that’s all she is. She’s young, and young people like to flirt with no meaning nowadays. It’s just a fun little game to them.

I head to bed, a book in my hand. My eyes skim over the pages quickly, but I’m only retaining half of the words. The other half of my brain is filled with Jade.

nine

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