#I started playing around their banner last year

[nosferalto]

FINALLY… my first 5star and saviour in countless singularities, Qin Shi Huang reached bond lvl 10 :’)

[lokissweater]

i know your name ✭

{gojo satoru x f!reader}

summary: gojo satoru was practically everyone’s god as his shiny charming reputation has followed him ever since high school and through college— his band he had with his best friend suguru packing the local college pub every night just to see him sing and play the bass. unbeknownst to you, satoru has been keeping an eye on you, and when you officially meet him right before one of his shows, satoru just about falls to his knees over you.

warnings: MDNI. college au, CAR SMUT be patient!!, fingering, squirting, a bit of oral hehe, cursing, angst, FLUFFF, FILTHY DIRTY TALK, a sprinkle of degradation, tinyyy mentions of alcohol and drinking, gojo is obsessed with reader, afab!reader, jealousy.

word count: 8.8k

authors note: oh my goodness this one took me a FAT MINUTE but it’s SO SO CUTE and i hope you all think so too!! thank you thank you for all of your notes on my works!! MWAHH.

————————————————————————

“please come with me to the alley, i don’t think i can handle one moron and an even bigger moron by myself.”

shoko shimmied her jacket onto her shoulders, a disgruntled and pleading look on her face as she turned to face you. “they’re only playing a few songs, and you don’t have to drink!”

you laughed softly. “who’s they?”

“suguru and satoru, they’re playing at the alley.”

“gojo satoru?”

the cogs in your brain spun as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek, a bit apprehensive. the alley was the place everyone went to at your college to get drunk and laid, and it also happened to be the place where the two boys played their band almost every night— satoru mainly having connections with the owner of the bar to even allow a bunch of college kids to trash the place to begin with.

you didn’t necessarily know satoru, but in your years of observing him back in high school, you knew he was viewed by anyone and everyone as a god, his reputation shiny and impressive as he had the greatest charisma and charm you had ever seen.

you remember back to when basically every other day he was getting confessed to in the halls or in class— or after school… or literally anywhere now that you thought about it.

but satoru has never been prideful or rude, even though it was something that was supposed to be written for him being the most popular guy— but he just simply didn’t follow it.

satoru was kind. really kind. and even though he got millions of confessions per year, he treated each rejection with gentleness and respect, never turning a cold eye to anyone as he apologized profusely and tried to help them feel better.

he always volunteered to do your class banners and plan your school’s activities, festivals, and field trips so nobody else had the burden of missing out on the fun. he always helped out the gardener after school and watered the plants with them (soon after practically taking over the entire shift for free and telling them to relax on a bench), tutored his friends and peers when they asked him for help, and made anyone that felt left out feel included.

that’s why he was so popular. gojo satoru was a ray of sunshine with bright blue eyes and white ruffly hair, with a gorgeous face that you never saw without a smile— loud and obnoxious and a little clumsy, but kind.

“i still don’t know why they started a band.. but they get pretty big tips every night so i guess that’s why,” shoko muttered, sipping the last of her iced tea as she got up from her seat— the cafe you were both sitting in quiet and warm as you copied her actions and stood. “or could be because satoru likes the attention.”

you weren’t close with suguru or satoru like shoko was, and you’ve never even properly met them either, but you always listened to her whenever she’d complain and understood her completely nonetheless.

you laughed at her last comment and smiled. “i’ll go… but i can only stay for two songs! i have class at seven am tomorrow.”

she smiled wide and threw her arms around you, “thank you thank you thank you!”

you’ve never actually been to the alley before, only having heard about it through the grapevine and from your other classmates that went, parties and concerts and drinking never really on the schedule for you. you honestly loved parties and concerts, and you loved the idea of hanging out with people and doing whatever your hearts desired until the sun came up.

but ever since you started college, your high school group kind of disappeared, and now you only really have one true best friend that you preferred over anything else, that being shoko. your nights are usually always calm and filled with studying or self care, your little life quiet and independent as you navigated through the days on your own.

and although you were a bit lonely at times, yearning for another soul to share your nights with, you learned to enjoy your own company.

the alley was a couple of blocks down from the cafe you and shoko were originally at, your ears already picking up on the vibrations of guitars and drums from outside as she approached the bouncer at the front, not even being able to get a word in before the big man was already telling her no.

“no?!” shoko dug into her purse and pulled out her phone. “i was literally here last week, i’m friends with the band that’s playing.”

“sorry we’re at max capacity—”

“it’s okay, they both can come in. they’re on stage with us.”

your eyes snapped to the door and you recognized geto suguru, his long jet black hair cascading down to his shoulders as he sported an all black outfit— politely smiling at the bouncer.

the man moved to the side and ushered us in, shoko’s shoulders dropping in relief as you both walked in and over to a table by the stage. “thank you suguru.”

he nodded. “if i don’t, satoru will throw another fit again and say you don’t love him if you don’t show up.”

shoko rolled her eyes and looked at you, her lips pressed into a thin line. “you see what i mean?”

“shoko!” a loud, booming and enthusiastic voice rang through the pub as you turned, spotting none other than satoru with his long arms open, more or less throwing himself on her. “you came!”

“you threatened me—”

“i did no such thing!” he sprung back. “are you not here out of the goodness of your heart? to support your two best boys living their dreams?”

“no.”

“shokooo!” he whined and you giggled, which caused him to snap his head in your direction, finally noticing your presence.

her.

“oh! hello,” he smiled kindly to you and extended his hand. “i’m satoru, and you are?”

“y/n!” you grinned sweetly and politely to him, taking his cold hand in yours and shaking it.

“are you a friend of shoko’s?”

you nodded.

he cocked his head to the side, “how come i’ve never seen you around?”

“oh i don’t go out too often, that’s probably why,” you laughed lightly, a little embarrassed by your answer.

he beamed anyways, his smile so big and brilliant that you were starting to see for yourself exactly why everyone loved him so much, not that you didn’t already know the reason behind it in the first place.

“me neither!”

satoru was still holding your hand.

“yes you do!” shoko scoffed. “you’re barely ever at your apartment and i always have to be your designated driver—”

he gawked, glaring at her. “that’s not true! i was home yesterday!”

“because you were hungover.” suguru mumbled.

you laughed again, and satoru turned back to face you, a grin on his face.

just then, a rather large group of guys started making their way towards your area, all beckoning and calling for satoru while holding up several shot glasses, his head snapping towards their direction and flashing a dazzling smile.

“satoru come!”

“satoru take some with us!”

he gently let go of your hand and raised his, waving high as he readjusted his black round sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, “give me a second! i’ll be over!”

satoru turned back to you, resuming the conversation.

“sorry, she lies. she likes to lie. i’m glad i didn’t go to high school with her.”

“yes we did— i’m going over to your followers and stealing a shot, goodbye.” shoko grumbled, throwing her purse on the table and walking away, dragging suguru along with her.

“we actually um..” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “we went to high school together.”

“oh i know.”

your eyebrows pinched together.

he knows?

“you used to water the garden on days i couldn’t afterschool, right?”

your eyes widened a little.

“oh! and you used to fix the class banners whenever i didn’t notice my fuck up, which was always.” he patted the top of your head and laughed, “thank you for that by the way.”

“you knew?” you murmured, a rosy tint to your cheeks.

“duh,” his eyes softened. “i’m sorry i never thanked you properly then.”

you shook your head dumbly, a little spaced out as you took in what he said. “no it’s okay.”

your eyes then fell to the instruments and band set up behind him, suddenly remembering that he was performing tonight.

“so what do you guys play?” you spoke up gently, hands wringing behind your back. “do you play original songs? or covers?”

“covers! 80’s covers.” he explained excitedly. “suguru and i switch off singing. i play the bass and he plays the guitar, and we have a couple of extra friends in the back playing the drums and keyboard.”

your eyes sparkled as you watched the stage set up process, black chords scattered everywhere on the ground in disarray as several individuals on the platform tuned their instruments or plucked out a few notes.

“80’s?” you perked up. “what kind of 80’s?”

“what kind?”

“yeah! morissey? the cure? new order—”

satoru was awestruck, mouth slightly parted. “you know who they are?”

you quickly nodded, a cute smile on your face.

“you like the cure?” he asked quietly.

“i love the cure.”

satoru practically had hearts in his eyes as he beamed down at you with a stupid face, his heart a little frazzled with a familiar feeling sparkling in his chest.

“satoru!”

he snapped out of his trance and spun around, suguru on stage beckoning him over. “sorry, we have to start.”

“okay!” he walked backwards as he quickly faced you again and smiled, a little frantic. “i’ll talk to you after we play! i’m gonna quiz you on it so pay attention!”

you laughed, your hand covering your mouth a bit as you nodded. “is it counting towards my grade? or is it extra credit?”

“extra credit if you go on a date with me after the show!”

you stopped.

“she can’t! moron,” shoko suddenly appeared beside you and threw an arm around your shoulder. “she’s only staying for two songs!”

gojo’s jaw dropped slack, his shoulders slumping as he got up on stage, arms out. “two?!”

you grimaced, an apologetic look on your face and kind of feeling like a lame grandma as you nodded, “i have class at seven am tomorrow!”

before he could even respond, satoru got pulled by tech crew to test out his microphone, and you and shoko gradually settled yourselves on the high bar stool chairs at your table.

“odd,” she muttered with a funny look on her face.

“hm? what is?” your eyes switched to hers.

“satoru’s never asked a girl out before.”

your eyes bulged open. “never?”

“never.” shoko sipped a little at her beer and gave you a comforting smile. “i’ve always seen girls try it with him and ask him out or simply just follow him around like a lost dog, but he’s never gone after anyone.”

you watched a little smirk spread across her face, and your hands grew a tiny bit sweaty as you swallowed thickly.

“if you’re interested in him, there’s a line. but i think you have a head start.”

the music started— suguru introducing himself, satoru, and the band calm and pleasantly before they began playing their first song. it was loud and rhythmic, vibrations murmuring through the floor as your glass of water shook on the table with every note.

they weren’t bad at all— they were actually pretty good, really good, and you found yourself not really wanting to admit it since it seemed like satoru was good at a million different things regardless of category or genre.

“do they have a name for their band?!” you yelled over the music, leaning your frame a little closer to her without taking your eyes off of the stage.

shoko snorted, “the strongest monkeys.”

you threw your head back and laughed loudly, looking at her incredulously. “really?!”

as he performed on stage, satoru noticed you laugh and he smiled against the microphone, a vision he connected back to high school, and for reasons he couldn’t explain, he was internally a little unsteady as your pretty eyes watched him play and sing— feeling embarrassed whenever he would trip over a chord clumsily like he seemed to do at every freaking show, but feeling better seeing as it made you giggle.

by the end of their second song, you showed shoko the time on your phone and tried to stand as discretely as possible in attempts at not disturbing anyone around you, grabbing your purse from the arm of your chair and swinging it over your shoulder.

but when you looked up, satoru was already looking at you as suguru spoke through the microphone, his eyes wide and pleading as he held up his index finger.

“one more song!” he mouthed. “please.”

you gnawed at your bottom lip anxiously, your eyes darting around the pub and back to the time on your phone before they landed again on satoru.

“stay.” he mouthed again.

and for reasons you couldn’t explain, your body pulled you back down on the stool and you sat— shoko quirking an eyebrow at you in confusion.

satoru’s face broke out into the brightest smile, a smile equivalent to the blinding rays of the sun as he pushed up his round sunglasses and gave you a cute thumbs up.

“thank you.”

and your heart stuttered.

you eventually decided to stay for the rest of the show, seeing as it was already late as fuck anyways— and they played few more songs then, a mix of well known 80’s songs as well as a few underrated ones, your head nodding gently to the beat and swaying your little shoulders. in the midst of it, satoru had been watching and glancing in your direction so many times throughout the show, that he subconsciously started mimicking your little shoulder sway on stage as he performed.

college girls screamed practically every five minutes when the boys did anything, some even going as far as running up the platform and reaching up for satoru’s hands or ankles as he played, him smiling bright at each and every one of them with shoko shaking her head in disappointment— her forehead falling to the palm of her hand as you laughed.

ironically by the end of it, the band closed with the cure, and as the crowd dispersed and several took their leave from the alley— some shouting words of praise at the boys, you and shoko stood and walked over to the stage. satoru in a heartbeat noticed you coming over and hooked his mic quickly back on the mic stand, tossing the strap of his bass over his shoulders and setting it down before hopping off stage.

“did you like it?” he panted hopefully, trying to catch his breath as his forehead glistened with sweat, his hands on his hips.

you smiled gently. “i did! good job, you both played really great songs.”

suguru gave you a small smile in gratitude from the platform as he unplugged and untangled a few chords— and satoru beamed, nodding. “i’m glad! okay, here comes your quiz!”

“oh god.”

“we played the cure at the end…” satoru dragged out.

“mhm…”

“what song?” he tilted his head to the side, and your cheeks went pink as you grinned.

“pictures of you,” you replied softly. “it’s my favorite one.”

satoru’s forehead fell to rest against your shoulder, and your eyes widened in surprise.

“i would expect nothing less from you, y/n.”

you hummed out a laugh, and his heart did a tiny somersault at the sound before he picked his head back up and looked at you softly.

“thank you for staying.”

shoko bounded over to you then and looped her arm through yours. “ready to go?”

you nodded quickly before smiling sweetly at satoru. “i’ll see you around! thank you for—”

“wait!” he shot his arms out frantically with wide eyes. “what about our date?”

you froze. “our date?”

“unless you want the quiz to count towards your grade…” he mumbled lowly, eyes darting on everything and everywhere except you with pinky cheeks.

“i didn’t think you were being serious about that..” you spoke gently.

his eyebrows furrowed. “why not?”

“because you’re gojo satoru,” shoko butt in.

you quickly flicked her forehead— your lips pressed into a thin line, earning a little laugh from satoru as you turned your head to look at him again.

“i have an early class tomorrow… ill see you around though, okay?”

without thinking, satoru reached over and placed a hand on your shoulder, gently turning you to face him.

“let me take you to class.”

shoko and suguru exchanged a look and your lips parted, eyebrows pinching together.

“what?”

“i’ll take you to class in the morning,” he looked desperate. “and i won’t count the quiz towards your grade.”

you were skeptical, very skeptical, unsure of what satoru wanted from you in this situation. you had just met him, properly at least, and though you knew he was a good person, you weren’t sure if that was still relevant in the field of picking up girls.

you looked to shoko, who shrugged, and your eyes landed back to satoru’s pleading one’s, your entire body and soul hesitating.

“i—” you gnawed at your bottom lip, a nervous habit as you took in the way he looked like a sad little puppy the longer you took to respond, your heart not having the ability to ever say no to anyone, ever. not even him.

“okay.”

his shoulders relaxed, and he let out a puff of relieved air as he gave you the biggest smile, nodding hopefully.

“okay! h—here-” he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. “if i could— if i could have your number? and i’ll text you when im on my way and stuff…”

you shakily took satoru’s phone, the screen already opened up to the ‘add contact’ feature as you typed in your number before passing it back to him.

“thank you!” he beamed. “i’ll see you tomorrow then?”

he was so excited, and you really didn’t know why, but you couldn’t help but give him a sweet smile of yours in return, nodding.

“see you.”

when you finally arrived home that night, it didn’t take satoru even ten minutes after that to text you.

(unknown): i have good news for you miss y/n

you stared at your phone, your heart jumping a bit as you typed back a response.

(you): and i have bad news for you satoru

(satoru): WHAT

(satoru): ok wait me first

(satoru): congrats you passed my class!! that quiz bumped up your grade from 0% to 100% ur so smart

(satoru): but if your bad news is you rejecting me i’m FAILING you

(you): HAHAHAHA

(you): silly silly

(you): my bad news was that i always have banana milk on my way to school in the mornings and unfortunately i don’t have any extra for you :(

(you): i ran out ;(

within the two minutes that it took for you to respond with your declared bad news, satoru was absolutely shitting it, wholeheartedly believing you were going to reject him and leave him to dramatically rot away all alone.

he replied quickly, a goofy smile on his face.

(satoru): that’s literally the only reason why i asked you out :(

(you): and how do you know i have banana milk in the mornings before school?

(satoru): OH

(satoru): SO ABOUT TOMORROW

you giggled, wiping the last of your makeup off and turning off your vanity light before jumping into bed, snuggling into your covers as the cool air softly touched your face from your open window.

(you): *address*

(you): pick me up at 6:30 please, if that’s okay :)

(satoru): i’ll pick you up at six miss y/n

(you): SIX WHY

(satoru): for a breakfast date silly!! okay goodnight xoxo

you hadn’t even realized the huge stupid smile on your face until your rosy cheeks started to ache.

(you): HAHAHA

(you): goodnight <3

a heart?!

satoru stuffed his face into his pillow, feeling like little love birdies were flying around his head and pecking at his hair.

the following morning, you ran your fingers through your hair and probably fixed your outfit a million trillion times before you were satisfied, a huge lump in your throat as you gnawed so much at your bottom lip that it drew blood.

you were nervous, but why? you didn’t know why. maybe because it was gojo satoru picking you up. maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t had a guy try to hit on you in what felt like a decade, the last time really being the last day of high school when you randomly found a note in your locker, the words literally illegible.

maybe it was the fact that satoru was the most handsome man you have ever seen.

but so was he to everybody else.

(satoru): i’m outside! :]

you wiped your clammy hands on your legs and stood, hiking your school bag further up your shoulder before walking down the stairs and out the door, seeing satoru seated in his car in your driveway.

you timidly opened the door to the passenger side and stepped in.

“hi!” he greeted cheerfully and proceeded to place his hand on the back of your headrest as he backed out, looking through his rear view mirror.

“hi!” you said gently. “you’re not tired?”

“nuh uh,” he smiled at you. “i had three energy drinks before i got you.”

your head instantly whipped in his direction. “satoru— three?!”

he giggled at your reaction, the sides of his blue eyes crinkling as he patted your head. “don’t worry silly, i’ve had maybe five at a time before—”

“five?!”

you slumped against the passenger seat and closed your eyes. “satoru, you’re gonna develop heart problems if you keep this up.”

“nah,” he reached into the backseat, his eyes still on the road. “i’m the strongest.”

and you snorted then, watching him retrieve two small bottles of juice from the back without taking his eyes off of the road.

“i got us orange juice— wait do you like orange juice? oh fuck maybe—”

you giggled and waved him off, taking both bottles from his hands. “it’s okay! i do like orange juice, thank you.” you settled them on your lap neatly. “i’ll hold them while you drive.”

“aww thanks sweets,” he murmured affectionately, and your face instantly went warm to the touch.

“i also got us breakfast bagels so we can sit and people watch before your class—” his eyes snapped to yours. “if— if that’s okay.”

your heart skipped a beat at his planning, nodding as you reached into your school bag and pulled out a little yellow carton, holding it out for him as he drove.

satoru tore his gaze away from the road momentarily and looked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“your daily morning banana milk?”

you smiled softly, nudging it towards him. “for you.”

he physically melted as he looked at your sweet sweet face and back towards the road.

“you’re giving up your banana milk— for me?”

you tore off the straw from the back of the milk box, sticking it through the little opening and offering it to him again.

“yup yup.”

he bit his lower lip as he gratefully took the milk box from you, giddy and flustered on the inside as he took tiny sips.

“an absolute delicacy, thank you miss y/n.”

before you even realized it, satoru was already pulling in to the campus parking lot, shifting his gear into park and turning off the ignition before opening his door.

“don’t move!” he sputtered suddenly. “don’t touch that door hold on—”

he slammed his door shut and you watched quizzically as he ran across the front of the car and opened the door for you, flashing an award winning smile that could shatter the earth if he wanted to.

you still couldn’t piece together why he was doing so much for you or why he was interested in the first place, but as you watched him set up the breakfast bagels cutely as you both sat on the bench, him carefully handing you yours along with your orange juice, you didn’t really have the heart to ask him why.

maybe it was the more selfish side of you, the one that always longed to share little moments like this with another being, the one that always spent her days alone watching movies or doing little crafts in her room to keep the time going, a bittersweet feeling in your chest every time you saw your classmates or casual friends post about their parties or outings.

you hadn’t realized that you didn’t respond to whatever satoru had said, and you snapped out of it.

“fuck— i’m sorry satoru, i spaced out.” you laughed softly. “what were you saying?”

he stared at you, his eyes examining your face. “what’s wrong?”

“huh?”

“what were you thinking about?”

“it was— it was nothing,” you took a sip of your orange juice. “i forgot.”

satoru shoved his face close to yours, your breath hitching and your cheeks growing pink as you watched his eyes scan every part of you, his expression concerned.

“something’s bothering you,” he hummed. “am i being too forward? i’m— i’m sorry sometimes i don’t even realize—“

“no!” you shot your arms out frantically and placed them on his shoulders, “no, it’s not that, you’re okay satoru. everything you’ve done has been really nice, so thank you.”

your voice was so sweet as you spoke to him, and even though it made him feel better to some degree, he still couldn’t shake the empty and sad look he saw on your face when you were spaced out.

he slowly retreated back and hesitantly nodded as you placed your hands back on your lap, your fingers then tearing a piece from your breakfast bagel and plopping it into your mouth.

“did you ever find…” he spoke in between bites. “a note in your locker the last day of high school?”

your eyebrows furrowed, taken aback. “how do you know about that?”

he swallowed, a sheepish look on his face. “that was me. i put that note in.”

your eyes widened as your body completely froze over, putting your bagel down— the wrapper crinkling underneath as you did so.

“really?”

satoru nodded, his flushed cheeks prominent on his pale skin as he suddenly found his bagel super interesting to look at.

“what did it say?”

he looked at you baffled. “what did it say? what do you mean?”

you giggled then, your hand covering your mouth as you leaned forward a little bit. “i could— i could barely read it. the handwriting-“

“oh my fucking god!” satoru threw his arms up in despair. “that explains so much. i was so sad i straight up thought you hated me.”

you stopped. “what do you mean?”

“i wrote my name and how i thought you were really pretty, and then i wrote my number at the bottom.” he dropped his shaking head in his hands, laughing. “but i wrote it really fast because i saw you coming so i just stuffed it in there.”

he slumped over his legs on the bench, his elbows on his knees as he moaned.

“you think i’m pretty?” you asked softly.

he turned his head to the side as he was hunched over, sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he smiled gently. “very.”

gojo satoru thought you were pretty.

you smiled cutely at him, reaching out and pushing his sunglasses back up his eyes, yours warm and endearing. “silly.”

you leaned back on the bench and giggled. “to be fair satoru, even if i was able to read your note, i probably would’ve thought it was a prank.”

“a prank? why?” his shoulders deflated, an unamused look on his face. “because i’m ‘gojo satoru’ like shoko said—”

“no,” you pushed. “because you’re a good person. you always go above and beyond for others and i’ve seen that as long as i’ve known you.”

you crossed a leg over the other and smiled softly. “and because of that i’m really not sure why you like me satoru, i haven’t really done anything special but—”

“what you just said is a crime. the way you think about me is the way i think about you.” he cut in, eyes serious. “you think you don’t do anything special? i literally watched you all through high school bend over backwards for people, for me, like i did,“ he sighed through his nose. “but your intentions were genuine and pure, mine were not.”

he finished the last of his bagel and crumpled up the wrapper into a ball, tossing it in the trash can next to him as he leaned back.

satoru swallowed. “i feel like if i don’t do the things that i do for people, ill end up disappointing everyone i know. i feel like everyone’s built this image of me that i don’t even know where the fuck it came from—” he shook his head. “but i don’t want to tarnish that. i don’t want to let people down. so i just let them ask me for stuff. i don’t even like going out that much either, believe it or not. i just go when they call.”

he crossed his arms. “whenever people do do something in return for me, it’s like i’m forever in their debt and they’re always expecting something from me back.”

your sad eyes softened, the confession in front of you a reaction from him you realized must’ve been buried deep deep down his chest— without any prior chance of resurfacing until this very moment.

you never thought about his situation this way. you would’ve never thought that satoru could’ve felt like this about his own reputation, something you guiltily believed was a thing he was absolutely floored over.

“you never expected anything back from me though,” he murmured. “you fixed my fucked up banners and switched around reservations when i absentmindedly chose the wrong thing for our school field trips, and you never said a word about it to me or anyone, and you didn’t expect anything back.”

he finally turned his bright blue eyes in your direction, and looked at you so deeply, so sincerely, that your mind went completely blank.

“that’s why i like you,” satoru bashfully scratched his cheek. “you do special things everyday and— and i was moved.”

there was a moment of silence, satoru staring at the ground as you stared at him, a delicate and insecure side of him unfolding before you that you don’t think anyone has ever seen, and you intended to keep it that way— wanting this special moment selfishly just for you.

you slowly leaned forward then as you made him look at you.

“its natural for you to be upset and think indifferently about people walking all over you, toru. it doesn’t mean you’re not genuine or pure.”

raising your arm, you poked his pink cheek gently and gave him a little comforting smile. “it actually only further solidifies to me how much of a good person you are. because even though people take advantage of your kindness, you help them with what they need regardless, and do way more.”

his eyes softened.

“at the end of the day, even though it makes you a little mad, you want to help people, because if you didn’t, you simply wouldn’t do it.”

you nudged his shoulder playfully with yours, “but not anymore, okay? from now on when people are blatantly taking advantage of how nice you are, you have to draw a line they can’t cross.”

he smiled wide.

“i’d let you cross it.”

“no not even me,” you shook your head. “not that’d i’d ever anyways.”

he looked at you, and then unexpectedly, satoru slowly leaned in and pressed a delicate, soft kiss to your cheek— his lips lingering there greedily for a few seconds more before pulling away, your shocked bright pink cheeks making him burst out laughing.

you missed class without even realizing, but you didn’t have an ounce of care in your body, seeing as satoru was worth more than anything from that point on.

since then you both hung out a lot more, and you still had your little quiet nights of self care, arts and crafts, and movies— except now, satoru was present in every activity.

satoru longed for your lifestyle, and you longed for his— so the act of watching movies together until two in the morning, making horrific origami bird shapes that never looked like the pictures in the instruction manual and laughing, sorting through his 80’s cd collection in his apartment while he sampled a few for you on his bass, and singing the cure so loud through his car sunroof while he drove you aimlessly at night with a strong grip on your thigh, were all a perfect blend of exactly what you both needed most.

it was several months of spending every waking moment together that you soon eventually became a little thing with satoru. there wasn’t an official label, and you guys hadn’t even kissed, but the longer than normal embraces, kisses on each others cheeks, and intertwined fingers everywhere you went was an obvious sign that something was there.

you picked up on how people looked at you more often rather quickly ever since satoru started bringing you around his circle, wondering how you came out of nowhere and captured his attention when thousands had tried for years.

and though most welcomed you with open arms and kind smiles, the majority of his girl fan base was bitter.

shoko often told you to just shake it off and not pay any mind to it, saying that it was a bunch of mean girls with nothing better to do, but it got a little harder once a pretty black haired girl named lina started grabbing satoru for conversations almost every night at the alley.

and today was no different.

“hi sweets!” satoru greeted you enthusiastically, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek as you arrived early to the pub to help him and suguru set up for tonight’s show. “you look very pretty today.”

��thank you!” you smiled wide and leaned up on your tippy toes, your body automatically pulling your lips to his until you quickly steered them to the corner of his mouth, pecking lightly before settling back down on the soles of your feet.

that wasn’t the first time you had almost accidentally kissed him, but it wasn’t just you, as satoru slipped up almost every second of every day when you both were together— the thought making you laugh internally as you followed him to the stage.

“don’t help out this time—” he pleaded gently with you as he took a high barstool chair for you and dragged it closer to the stage. “i want you to just sit and be pretty.”

you tilted your head to the side. “why toru? i don’t mind helping out i like it—”

“no i know!” he smiled sweetly at you. “but i want you to just sit there and relax and not lift a finger tonight. you’ll hurt yourself if you do.”

you giggled softly and nodded, hopping up on the stool and wringing your fingers together on your lap as you watched satoru set up his amp and readjust his mic stand, gnawing on your bottom lip as you watched the way his biceps and chest looked in his black compression tee.

“are you thirsty sweets?” he asked, his eyes trained to the ground as he untangled a bunch of chords and threw them behind him. “i can get you something from the bar?”

“oh no!” you shook your head quickly. “it’s okay toru you’re busy—”

satoru hopped off the stage and jogged over to the bar, him exchanging a few words with the bartender that you couldn’t quite make out until he jogged back over with a cold glass of sugary iced tea, placing it on your table under a coaster.

“for you.”

you smiled sheepishly, “thank you.”

“if you need—”

“satoru! hey!”

you snapped your head over to the entrance and saw lina, her wave a little flirty as she bounced over to the both of you.

lina only spared you a glance before her sparkling suggestive eyes landed back on satoru.

“oh hey?” he looked over at the clock on the wall. “im sorry, the alley doesn’t open for another two hours—”

“oh i know!” she twirled a strand of hair with her fingers. “i just wanted to stop by and see if you needed any help? you know, setting up?”

what.

your eyebrows pinched together and you looked at satoru, waiting for his answer.

“oh! um— sure! thanks!” he smiled at her, and you felt a pang of annoyance through your chest as you watched him lead her on stage and give her directions, much like how he did for you when you helped out.

you crossed a leg over the other and looked away.

satoru wasn’t your boyfriend, so it wasn’t like you could say anything or feel the way that you did… but then again, isn’t he kind of? you didn’t know, and the more you wracked your brain to try and figure out what exactly the both of you were, the angrier you got at the situation in front of you.

satoru flashed lina his world famous dazzling smile, cracked joke after joke and made her laugh, helped her when she went “confused” and helpless, and even showed her basic chords on his bass when she asked.

you pursed your lips, eyes narrowed. satoru was smiling at her the way he smiled at you and cracking jokes the way he joked with you, and your jealousy only grew as you let your mind wander if the way satoru treated you was actually anything significant if he was willing to do it for some random girl.

you sat there for what had felt like forever, people starting to pile in for the show as the alley opened, and you hopped off the stool bitterly to cool off in the restroom, not bothering to let satoru know.

just as you got in line, you felt a hand tug at your wrist.

“y/n!”

you turned around and spotted shoko, smiling until she took in your annoyed expression.

“what’s wrong?”

“lina,” you muttered.

“oh god,” shoko leaned her weight on one side of her hip. “what the fuck is she doing now?”

“satoru help me, satoru how many chords does a bass have? satoru you’re so good at singing! satoru you owe me after this!” you mimicked, your heart heavy as you let shoko lead you back to your table.

“she’s getting braver,” she muttered. “say the word y/n and i’ll fake trip and spill my drink on her it’s easy—”

you snorted, “no no, it’s okay shoko. if satoru wants to let himself be drooled over and do nothing about it in respects to me, he can be my guest.”

the show started, girls already screaming and running up the stage with, of course, lina front and center by satoru, jumping and wiggling her sick fingers up at him.

satoru was like he normally was at his shows— attentive to everyone and being just who he is, but what ticked you off more than usual was how much attention he was paying to lina, way more than the rest, and you couldn’t even watch the stage anymore when satoru reached down and held her hand for a moment, not once glancing up at you.

you were done.

“i think i’m gonna go!” you shouted to shoko over the music.

“what?!” shoko grabbed your arm. “don’t go! it’s almost over! i wanna see you chew him out!”

you laughed and shook your head. “i can’t stand being here, and he clearly doesn’t care whether i’m here or not right now so—”

more screams.

both of your heads snapped to the source.

lina was on stage with him.

you scoffed and grabbed your purse, ignoring shoko’s protests as you pushed your way through the crowd and away from the stage.

when satoru finally decided to scan for you through the pub, his eyebrows furrowed as he saw your seat empty and shoko glaring straight murderous daggers at him.

“where is she going?” he mouthed to shoko.

“home!” she spat loudly, getting up herself and disappearing through the crowd.

satoru’s eyes immediately widened, his fingers clammy and numb as he started to pluck the wrong notes, suguru giving him a weird look.

“carry the show without me,” satoru quickly told him, frantic. “please, i have to go.”

suguru nodded and waved him off, seeming like he knew why satoru’s skin was sickishly pale as he carried on calmly.

it wasn’t like you to just leave without him or not tell him anything, so as he threw the strap of his bass over his shoulders and handed it to a tech member, he hopped off stage and ran through the crowd, ignoring their pleas of protest or the tugging he felt at his clothes.

you were halfway down the parking lot when you heard the pub door slam open and footsteps running towards you.

“sweets!—” satoru yelled. “hey- where are you going?!”

“home!” you yelled over your shoulder, arms crossed as you kept walking.

satoru’s stomach dropped.

“y/n!” he caught up to you and grabbed your shoulders, spinning you around as he tried to catch his breath. “why? are you okay?”

“just fine!” you spat. “why don’t you go back on stage and drool all over lina—”

“lina?” he gawked. “drool? what are you talking—”

you shrugged his hands off of your shoulders. “do you not see how she’s been all over you for what seems like fucking months?! and you just let her! i’ve been ignoring it but today you really pissed me off—”

you turned away again and he immediately grabbed your waist with his hands, pulling you back.

“hey- no. tell me what i did okay just tell me—”

you scoffed. “you really don’t see it? first of all she came to the alley two fucking hours early today, and then she’s all over you and you’re all over her and you’re smiling at her and making her laugh like you do with me, and then she’s playing the little damsel in distress helping you set up while i just sat there and watched—”

“all over her?” his eyes narrowed. “i couldn’t give less of a shit about lina—”

“apparently you do!” you moved away from him, his hands falling from your hips. “because she’s giving you the ‘i wanna fuck you eyes’ every two seconds, and you’re holding her hand while you’re on stage, and then you literally pulled her on?! what the fuck am i supposed to think with that?!”

“i didn’t pull her on she jumped on!” satoru exclaimed, his arms out. “i’m sorry sweets that i didn’t notice okay i really am, but have you stopped to think that maybe i didn’t notice because i don’t care about her? i—”

“satoru you’ve been completely ignoring me the minute she got here—”

“toru.” he cut you off, voice firm. “it’s toru not satoru.”

you stopped, frustrated and hurt tears slowing brimming your eyes as you looked at him. “maybe you being a little flirt for everyone was okay before, but the minute you decided to butter me up and kiss my cheeks and call me sweets, that should’ve been over.”

“it is!” he exclaimed. “it’s been over! it never even started in the first place!”

“yes it did! you think i haven’t been watching how you are with people since high school?— you know what i’m done. i’m leaving.”

you sniffled and spun around again, but satoru only grabbed your wrist tightly and wrung you back.

“you think i haven’t been watching you?! i’ve loved you since fucking high school god dammit! i’m obsessed with you! when we officially met at the alley and i introduced myself i already knew your name and you know that! i don’t give a single living fuck about lina or anyone else but you! it’s always been you!”

you wiped your tears roughly with your sleeve.

gojo satoru loved you.

“so no. you’re not done. please don’t cry. all i’ve ever wanted was you and i let you slip through my hands in high school because i was a coward, and id rather die than let you slip through my fucking hands again and lose you over a stupid fight when i just got you!—”

“you’re not losing me i’m not going anywhere toru where the hell are you getting that from?!” you exclaimed.

“thank fuck then, so what are we still doing?! i’d cut everyone in my life off if you asked me to!—”

“no don’t do that! i was just jealous okay and i’m— and i’m angry—”

“okay but do you love me?!” he pushed angrily.

“yes! of course i do you know that!”

“okay so do i baby so what the fuck are we still fighting for?!”

“i don’t know!”

“stop giving me your little attitude then and come kiss me!”

your lips instantly collided with his as you threw your arms around his neck, fast hurried kisses that knocked the wind out of you as you both hungrily and fiercely tried to swallow each other’s lips, satoru tapping the back of your thighs and signaling you to jump on him.

you immediately sprung up and wrapped your legs around his waist, him holding you tight as he carried you over to his car and leaned you against the backseat door, his lips messily licking and swiping over yours as he seemed drunk on the taste of your sweet spit alone.

satoru dug through his pockets without breaking from your lips and found his keys, unlocking his car with a tap of a button and gently lowering you inside, him scrambling in after you and slamming the door shut, locking it.

he towered over you as he latched his lips back on yours, you laying flat on your back with your legs spread, satoru’s big cold hands on the sides of your thighs as he slowly slid your tiny little denim skirt further up— right up until he felt your silky panties under his fingertips.

“i gotta—” he said in between kisses. “take them off—”

you nodded quickly. “please take them off—”

satoru didn’t even let you finish before he practically tore your panties down your legs and stuffed them in his back pocket, his breathing erratic.

“oh my goodness,” he spread your legs gently, eyes completely wide and glazed over as he looked at your slick and shiny pussy. “you’re so pretty baby, just like how i pictured you.”

he ran a finger down your slit and your hips jumped, your teeth biting down on your lower lip as you let out a symphony of whines that satoru wanted to record on his phone and play morning, noon, and night for himself and his dick.

he stared mesmerized at your fuzzy pink cheeks and swollen wet lips as he slowly rubbed over your clit, you immediately grabbing his unoccupied hand and sticking his middle finger in your mouth to suck in response.

“oh my god—” he threw his head back, his delicious adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. “you’re gonna make me cum in my fucking pants.”

he felt you bob your head up and down slowly on his finger and his head snapped down, eyes widening as he watched you act like a little slut for him, his hands with a mind of their own as he inserted his unoccupied middle finger in your slurping hole.

you let out a muffled gasp through the digit in your mouth and you spread your legs wider, his long and mouthwatering finger pumping in and out of you slowly, satoru’s body literally shivering at the sounds of your warm squelching pussy.

“listen to her baby…” he hummed. “she’s so fucking loud for me… how embarrassing.”

“toruuu,” you whined at his teasing, clamping your legs shut as you felt the tip of his finger hit that sweet spot in your walls that made your toes curl.

“open your legs.” he demanded. “who said you could close them, hm? i sure fucking didn’t.”

satoru picked up the pace and slipped in his ring finger without warning, your walls stretching and filling up as he abused your little cunt rapidly.

“you ever squirted before baby?” he huffed out, lips eating up your neck as you shuddered, your body jolting up and down at how fast he was fingering you.

you shook your head dumbly. “n—no, i don’t think i can—”

satoru laughed and bit your neck meanly. “yes you can sweets, your little pussy was just waiting for me to do it.”

he went even faster, a series of slap slap slap’s filling the car as his palm and digits hit your cunt repeatedly, sticky and soppy as he moaned over and over in your ear, absolutely intoxicated with the sloshing noises of your pussy and the way it was speaking to him, satoru utterly and incandescently obsessed with everything that was you.

“m—my god—” he panted, his pace brutal and animalistic as his long fingers rapidly plunged into your gummy hot hole, his tongue licking and slopping all over the side of your neck, your moans straight up filthy as the windows of his car fogged up.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—” he dragged his mushy kisses from your neck up to your chin and back to your lips. “be my girlfriend—” slap slap slap— “p-please be my girlfriend be my girlfriend i need you so bad i c-can’t live without you anymore—”

you eagerly nodded, your thighs shaking as you gripped his shoulders and tried to keep up with his kisses that swallowed your lips up hole. “y-yes— mph! i will toru i will—”

his car shook violently as he fucked your cunt with his fingers without mercy, an unfamiliar intense feeling bubbling up at the pit of your stomach as he did so, your entire pussy pulsing and swollen as you squealed, massive droplets of liquid spraying all over satoru and the leather seats of his car.

“fuck yes baby, give me what i want that’s it—”

satoru groaned so loudly as you squirted, him jerking his nasty fingers to selfishly get more out of you.

“thaaaats it sweets—” he panted, slowing down. “that’s it.”

you evidently blacked out at this point, your brain misty and distorted as you tried to come down from your delirious high, a high you’ve never ever felt before with your own digits.

satoru licked his fingers raunchily and lowered his face to your pussy, cleaning up any remnants and left over drops on your thighs and pussy with his perverted tongue, your body jerking and you whining again as you shut your thighs closed in overstimulation.

he came back up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before flashing you the biggest most innocent smile, as if he didn’t just absolutely destroy your cunt minutes ago without grace.

slowly, you regained a sense of direction and finally looked at him properly as he sat down and pulled you gently up by his arms, your body practically limp as he settled you on his lap and hugged you affectionately, his cheek squished up against your forehead.

“so can you squirt or what.” he teased softly, a smile still on his face.

you giggled shyly and buried your face in his neck. “i made a mess.”

“that’s literally what i wanted don’t even start.” he mumbled, and you laughed again, louder this time.

“were you serious about me being your girlfriend?” you asked suddenly, your voice smaller and timid. satoru pulled back and tilted his head, catching your eyes with his.

“of course i was,” he said quietly. “i literally begged you while my fingers were knuckle deep in—”

you covered your face with your hands and laughed with a whine. “stop! okay okay! i get it.”

you took your face away from his neck and looked at him properly, tilting your head cutely as your eyes shined and sparkled with affection, him giving you the same look back as you leaned up and pecked his lips lovingly.

“you know…” you began. “when we first properly met and you asked me out that night, shoko told me there was a line i had to stand in if i was interested in you.”

satoru snorted, his eyebrows raised. “a line?”

you nodded. “mhm. you literally can’t pretend there isn’t one toru… and lina is in it too,” you finished off, snickering.

he rolled his eyes and huffed, feigning annoyance, but when he looked at you again, he only smiled and stared at you like you hung the moon and stars yourself, a blush to his pale cheeks that never seemed to go away as long as you were around.

“line or not—” he sincerely spoke.

“you’ve always been the first one.”

[writtenwhalien]

jump then fall (into you) | part 1

banner by the talented @jimilter​ 💖

pairing ↠ jungkook x reader

genre ↠ cruise AU, fake dating AU, best friends to lovers AU | fluff, angst, smut

word count ↠ 52k (split into 3 parts | pt 1. 24k)

18+ | warnings ↠ swearing, drinking, sexual content: foreplay, oral m. and f., nipple play, protected sex etc.

summary ↠ bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

note. i'm backkkkk...?! with a disclaimer too:

I’ve been writing this on and off for pretty much two years so 1. it's not proofread bc i have not got the attention span to do that for 50k+ and I never got to read over what I previously wrote before working on it again so it might be a bit mismatched…?  2. I can’t say I’m hugely happy with this fic because it wasn’t a continuous workflow, it just doesn’t match the standards I have for myself but i tried and I’ll do better for the next ones which I’m excited about ;)

please interact and tell me how you find it! <3 it's been forever and i've missed you all 🥺

due to tumblr text post limitations, I’ve had to publish in three parts — links for part 2 + 3 can be found at the end.

 ↠ a part of the seven seas collab hosted by the wonderful yannie @ressjeon 🌊��� two years late but I made it :’)

part 1

“Gosh, Y/N, it’s a three week trip, you’re not going for a year!” 

The frustration in Jungkook’s voice has you whipping around, a pair of Valentino’s in one hand, Manolo’s in the other. “It’s Alex’s wedding cruise, Jungkook. Everyone and their parents are going to be there, mine included!” 

“Not mine!” he huffs, putting the last of your swimsuits into the suitcase open in front of him. You don’t blame him for being so frustrated, after all, he has been folding your clothes for the last hour while his single suitcase sits ready to go downstairs in the foyer. 

“Actually in case you’ve forgotten,” you start, stepping carefully through the piles of clothes in your massive closet to go towards him, “my mom has fed and even bathed you once after that time you wet yourself, so technically she’s as good as yours too.”

“That was one time, and I barely even remember it so it doesn’t count.”

“I do,” you smile, coming to stop in front of him. 

He sighs, looking down at the stilettos you’re holding. “We’ve been packing for hours already, you should’ve done this nights ago if it was gonna take this long.”

Now it’s you who’s sighing. “It’s been an hour not hours, besides we’re almost done now.”

Jungkook arches his brow, folding his arms in front of him. “Then what’re all your clothes doing on the floor?”

“They just need to go in one of the suitcases,” you smile. “See, we’re almost done.”

Unconvinced, Jungkook looks around at the mess but eventually nods. “Fine, but you can finish yourself, I’m going to eat—“

“No, wait, you can’t leave me!” you exclaim, reaching for Jungkook as your eyes go wide as a doe.

Telltale traces of a smile on Jungkook’s features let you know he was expecting this. He looks down at you, a loose curl hanging over his forehead. There was once a time when you were the taller one, but that only lasted a few years before Jungkook got in a good few inches between you. 

Both of you were just turning six when you first met although it always felt like Jungkook was a little younger to you in the first few years of your friendship, probably because of his naturally introverted nature which he more often steps out of when he feels comfortable to do so. But back then, he was just a wide eyed six year old who hid behind his mother as she came to work on her first day at the estate you call home. 

Knowing Jungkook was the same age as you and from a single parent household, your mom suggested that he could stay with you instead of his mom needing to hire someone to look after him while she worked. That was probably one of the best things that ever happened to the both of you. Jungkook became a better friend to you than many of those at your private school full of elementary school kids who wished they were ten years older than they were, and as the years went on there was nothing you didn’t do together. 

Naturally, your family got to know Jungkook well and being the little smartass he’s always been, Jungkook impressed your father so much that he helped him to apply for a scholarship position as you moved into high school. Of course Jungkook got in, and though it was only a partial scholarship, your father insisted on paying the rest of his fees which his mother found hard to accept but Jungkook promised your father to pay him back in the future. Fast forward a little more than a decade and Jungkook has paid back all of the fees thanks to being CEO of an affluent software company developed from his love of gaming. 

He struggles to fight his smile and you can see he’s contemplating going down or not, having to choose between food or you.  “What do you even need me for?” he asks, taking the smallest step closer, so small you don’t even notice. 

“Fashion advice?” you shrug, keeping an iron-like grip on his arms. 

He narrows his eyes. “You told me my fashion style is shit.”

“Was,” you correct, sliding your hands up his arms and down his chest with a satisfied smile. “Now is different though, I’ve rubbed off on you.” You glance down at his figure too, checking out his outfit. 

Jungkook chuckles as he follows your gaze. “Why would you need my help when you have yourself then, hm?”

Pouting at him, your arms slip around his waist and squeeze him in a hug. “You’re Mr Muscle, who else is gonna help me carry all this stuff?”

He pouts back sarcastically. “Is princess gonna break a heel if she carries her own suitcase?”

As you shrug, your brows remain furrowed. “Maybe, or a nail,” you say, letting one hand off his waist to show off a fresh manicure. As you wiggle your fingers ahead of him, he breaks into a smile. 

“You know you have a bunch of dudes in suits downstairs, just waiting to help you with this stuff. I’m pretty sure it’s their job.” 

“Yes, but they don’t give me fashion advice like you do,” you respond with a cheeky wink.

Jungkook takes the heels you’re holding off of you. “Here’s some advice — pack light.” He throws the heels behind him somewhere in your closet, earning a frown from you as your eyes follow where they land in the middle of your blown out closet. 

“Fine,” you sigh, looking back up at him. “I’ll lose the heels if you promise you’ll stay with me now.”

As a small smile grows on his lips, Jungkook’s arms find their way around your waist too. “Only if you promise you’ll make me a sandwich before we go?” His smile grows knowingly as he gives in to your charm — you’ve always found it’s easy to encourage Jungkook to go along with whatever you want, he just can’t seem to say no to you. 

“PB and J?” you ask with a smile that matches his.

He nods once, eyes shimmering as he still gazes at you. 

“Of all the foods you could ask for, it’s always PB and J,” you laugh.

He shrugs, letting go as you move to finish packing. “There’s nothing else I want.”

Arching a brow, you throw a few pairs of linen pants towards one of the suitcases in your closet. “We literally have a live-in chef, you know, Frederico, the guy you have a secret handshake with?”

“Yes, what of him?” Jungkook says huffing. 

“And you still want PB and J when he can make you anything?”

Jungkook steps towards your suitcase and picks up a pair of pants to roll. “I know that, but I just need some food in me and quick, so the simple option is best.”

Stepping forward, you take the pants off of him and roll them yourself. “If you would be patient enough to wait a few more minutes then you could have a sandwich that’ll fill you up for longer than half an hour.”

“And if you didn’t have more clothes than half the country combined then we would probably already be on our way to the airport,” Jungkook responds sassily, cocking his head.

“Don’t get smart with me or I won’t make your sandwich,” you sass back.

“I’ll just ask Freddie to make it for me and you don’t get Mr Muscle.”

Grumbling, you shove the rolled pants back into his hands as he laughs, taking them to place in one of the open suitcases. Not long after, all of your suitcases are packed and in the car, ready to go. 

The drive to the airport takes a little under an hour and upon arriving, the car takes you straight to the jet. Apparently you did take a little too long packing as your mom so pointedly lets you know after arriving, but luckily for you there’s a few others missing from the families you’re taking the jet with. With time to kill, Jungkook and you have a few idle chats with the others, most of whom you went to school with so the conversation comes easily but eventually you settle into the seats opposite your parents. 

“How was your drive here, darling?” your mom asks while closing her bag after a little skin TLC. 

“It was fine,” you answer, pulling out your own bag full of the skincare you deemed necessary to carry for the plane trip. 

“And how did you find it, Jungkook?” 

Jungkook shrugs. “It was good.”

“Lovely,” she smiles. “It’s going to be a wonderful trip.”

From beside her, your dad sighs, putting away his tablet. “Do we know how long the flight is to Marbella?”

“Oh, honey,” your mom frowns disapprovingly. “Don’t be such a grumpy lump before we’re even in the air.”

Jokingly, your father looks at Jungkook and you, and then gives your mom a side eye. “I just had a few important meetings that Chris accidentally scheduled for today so I’m wondering if I could still make them online.”

Dismissively, your mom waves her hand. “No work talk, we’re here to enjoy ourselves.”

“Alright, you’re right,” your dad concedes. “Maybe to start we could get a few drinks then, eh?” He raises his brow at Jungkook who approves with a big smile and both of them flag down a flight attendant. 

Once there’s a drink in everyone’s hand, your parents settle into conversation with Jungkook and you. 

“So are you excited to see Alex, Y/N?” your father asks. 

“Absolutely,” you smile. “Though I think I’m more excited to see Sophia and Alias, it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to spend time with them.”

“Oh, Jungkook, you must be excited to see Sophia too,” your mom says with a bit of a cheeky smile.

Jungkook chuckles nervously, glancing at you though you’re sporting the same smile as your mother. “I mean, yeah, we’re good friends.”

“Well if you weren’t, things would be pretty awkward,” your dad laughs before helping himself to some food he ordered with the drinks. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook mutters, managing a small laugh.

“Oh come on, guys,” you laugh, nudging him. “She’s happy you’re coming too.”

He nods appreciatively before taking a sip of his drink. “It’s her parents I’m more worried about.”

At this, your mom laughs too. “Oh, Leon and Helena love you really, dear, it’s all just for a laugh.” She leans forwards and squeezes his hand with her usual tender smile. “Though if it really bothers you, we could have a word with them, without letting on it’s coming from you of course.”

Smiling, Jungkook shakes his head. “Thanks, that’s really sweet of you but it’s alright, I can take the daggers I get from them,” he chuckles. “After all, what I did was pretty awful.”

“You were sixteen,” you say, patting on the last of your moisturiser. 

He shrugs. “I know, but she’s their little princess.” He looks across at you and then glances at your parents. “It’s like someone doing that to you, your parents would be mad.” 

At that, your father hums in agreement.

“Heck, I’d be mad,” Jungkook adds. 

Looking at him, he shrugs again and smiles. Before you can say anything, he carries on. “Sixteen or not, I literally left Sophia on one of the most important nights of her life.”

“Yeah, it was pretty awful at the time,” you sigh, remembering the night as clear as day.

Almost ten years ago now, the night of both yours and Sophia’s entry into society, the debutante ball. For you, the night was a bit of a blur with it being the first night Alex and you made things official in your relationship, sealing it with a first kiss and many more that evening. It was a magical and whimsical night, and although Alex and you didn’t last, your love for each other still remains as best friends and you couldn’t be happier for him getting married to his dream girl now. 

For Sophia, the night went a little differently... She'd had a crush on Jungkook for a while since, being Alex’s younger sister, she’d seen him often with you. After he found out, he asked her to be her escort to the ball. She of course said yes and everything seemed to be going perfectly until the moment Jungkook was supposed to escort her down the stairs but he had completely disappeared. Sophia was left all alone and completely embarrassed, even after Alias, the ever caring older brother, stepped in and acted as her escort. Jungkook still hasn’t told you the reason he left so abruptly that night. All you remember is not being able to reach him the whole weekend, even when you tried going to his house he was never home. When you finally saw him, he told you he didn’t want to talk about it so you didn’t. 

Of course, everyone else forgot about the incident and even Sophia forgave him after he apologised profusely and endlessly, but Mr and Mrs Cirillo were less forgiving for a while, but after many years it’s just become a joke between them. The fact that he’s invited on the cruise just shows it’s all in the past now. 

However that doesn’t mean Mr and Mrs Cirillo ever pass up an opportunity to remind him of the past… 

“It’s lovely to see you, Y/N, dear,” Mrs Cirillo says, bringing you in for a hug. 

Mr Cirillo stands behind her, taking your hand as soon as his wife lets go. “How was the flight here?”

“It was good, I slept for most of it really.” Stepping away, you turn to look at Jungkook as he approaches them with a meek smile.

Mrs Cirillo smiles back, her words carrying a playful lilt. “There he is, the heartbreaker.”

Jungkook lowers his head at that and you can see his nose scrunching a little. “That’s me, unfortunately,” he says, stepping into Mrs Cirillo’s arms for a brief hug. 

When he takes Mr Cirillo’s hand to shake, the older man shows the same playfulness as his wife. “Nice to see you again, Jungkook. My favourite and least favourite man on board.” 

Jungkook chuckles and Mr Cirillo pulls him in for a hug. “Stay out of trouble, yes?” 

“Of course,” Jungkook smiles, stepping away to stand next to you as your parents walk out onto the main deck.

Their eyes light up as the old friends all greet each other and you take Jungkook’s hand and slip away together before you get roped into a conversation. 

“You alright?” you ask casually as you scan the people all on the deck.

“Good, thanks,” he responds with a gentle squeeze of your hand. He knows that you know how he finds it a little tedious sometimes every time Sophia’s parents mention the past, but he knows he messed up so he doesn’t ever complain about it. In a way, it annoys you when the Cirillo’s always mention it but you know it’s not your place to say anything, especially if Jungkook hasn’t said anything. 

Looking around, you take in many of the familiar faces while scanning the crowds for Alex or one of his siblings. There’s no unfamiliar faces on this part of the deck, and seeing all the waiters walking around offering canapés and drinks, you realise the Cirillo’s must’ve rented out this part of the deck. The excited buzz amongst everyone extends to you as you turn to look out past the balcony towards the sea, stepping towards it and taking Jungkook with you. 

Taking a deep breath of the fresh sea, enjoying the warmth glowing from the sun as a steady breeze blows. Exhaling, you turn around to Jungkook beaming. 

It seems like he was already watching you, waiting as though he knows you’re gonna say something now. Seeing you smile, his corner of his lips turn too. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

“Very,” you nod, turning around to look out again, lowering the sunglasses from your head to stop from squinting. 

“Y/N!” A familiar voice calls your name and you turn around, breaking into the biggest smile when you see Alex approaching, his arms outstretched. “Jungkook!” 

You meet him halfway, excitedly skipping into his hug. He hugs you tight, releasing a sigh as he lets go and hugs Jungkook. “Gosh, it’s been so bloody long, I’ve missed you guys.” 

“Missed you more, buddy,” Jungkook smiles, patting Alex’s back before he lets go. “Congrats on the wedding too, we’re well excited to be here for you.”

Alex laughs, flashing his perfect pearly smile. “Honestly, I’m happier to have you guys here. Half of the people here haven’t even spoken to me in years.” He glances around before adding, “you know how it is.” 

“Mhm,” you nod, squeezing his arm. “You’ve got us though, we’re here for you every step of the way.” 

“Thanks,” he responds, taking two drinks from a passing waiter to give to you both. “You were allowed plus ones though, when do I get to meet them?” He looks across at both of you expectantly, though you see a subtle raise of his brow matched with a small smile that seems to hint he already knows the answer.

“Well, we didn’t really get the chance to ask anyone,” Jungkook answers, looking sideways at you. “So we just thought we’d come with each other.”

“Ah.” The smile on Alex’s lips grows. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Because you know how busy we’ve both been,” you say, shrugging lightly before taking a long sip of your drink.

“Hm, that’s it,” Alex says quietly. 

“BOO!” Large hands tap your shoulders before the man himself jumps in front of you. 

“Alias,” you squeal excitedly, returning the hug he’s already given you. Slightly more wild albeit still as focused as his younger brother, Alias is the eldest of the Cirillo siblings and has become more of an older brother to you over the years.

“You look like you’ve grown,” he says, moving back and beaming as he pulls Jungkook in for a hug. “Both of you.”

“We literally saw you like a month ago,” Jungkook chuckles. 

“Really?” Alias raises his brows in surprise. “Damn, you kids grow fast.” 

“I could say the same thing about that moustache of yours,” you say. 

He smiles smugly. “Looks good right?”

Shrugging, you lean against the balcony. “I think you looked better without it.”

Alias frowns, hand coming up to stroke his moustache subconsciously. “Really?” he asks, looking at you in time to see you raising your glass to your lips to hide your smile. 

“I knew you liked it,” he laughs. “Apparently a lot of people do.”

“Ah, Alias, no one wants to know,” Alex grimaces at his older brother.

Before Alias can defend himself, Jungkook says, “I do.” Alex and you both look at him and he shrugs. “Might grow mine out.”

Alias laughs, throwing his arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “C’mon buddy, I’ll tell you all about it.”

As Alias pulls him away, Alex steps to stand next to you and both of you watch them walk away with Alias talking in a hushed tone as though no one else can find out. 

As you watch them walk away with a fond smile on your face, Alex turns to you.  “So, how have you been?”

Still absentmindedly watching Jungkook and Alias, you hum. “Great.”

“How’s work?”

“Mm, I actually just secured a deal with Park Motors last week.”

Glancing at Alex, you see his brows raise. “Impressive.”

“Yeah, it was a pretty big win for the company and dad was proud of me.” 

Alex smiles. “And were you proud of yourself?”

As Jungkook’s head disappears from the crowd, you turn to face Alex too, taking another sip of your drink. “I know people think I’m just riding off my parent’s success, which yeah, it’s true for the most part, but after doing this all myself I was pretty proud.”

“Good,” he grins. “You should be. You may be one of the most princess-ed girls I know,” he adds with a teasing lilt, “but you’re also one of the most hard working.”

Laughing, you nudge him lightly. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” He leans against the balcony too, pulling down his shades as he turns towards the sea where the sun shines down on the horizon. “What about things with Jungkook?”

Shrugging, you take a small sip. “He’s good.”

Alex glances at you from the corner of his eye with the curve of his lips growing. “Hm, anything else?”

Levelling his face, you break into a smile. “Oh, Alex, you’re never gonna let this go are you?”

He smiles, shaking his head. “Not as long as I see it’s there.” 

Straightening your expression a little, you tilt your head. “But there’s nothing there.”

“Y/N, there’s everything there,” he says, matching your tone. 

“Alex, come on,” you say quietly, traces of a smile returning. 

He shrugs. “I make a perfectly valid point.”

Turning towards the deck again, you sigh. “I don’t see it.”

“I do!” Alex almost exclaims excitedly. “And I have for the longest time.” Letting out a small laugh, he puts his arm around you and squeezes gently. “His big doe eyes used to torture me all the time when I was dating you.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. Jungkook does have doe eyes but you don’t remember seeing them often while dating Alex. 

“Seriously,” Alex says, fighting his case onwards. “I dated you for what, almost a year I think and I’ve never seen anyone sulk for that long.”

“He wasn’t sulking.”

“Listen, I’m almost a married man now, Y/N, and I can tell you all the looks of love…”

When you arch a brow quizzically, Alex sighs and continues. “That boy was sulking for weeks because he hated seeing you with someone else.”

“Oh come on, maybe he had a crush in the past but he’s a grown man now and has had plenty of his own romances.”

Now it’s Alex who’s looking at you with his brow raised. “Like who?”

It takes you a moment to think of a name but a few still come to mind. “Remember Alia, the intern from my dad's company?” you ask rather smugly, although Alex’s reaction shows no surprise. 

“The girl who he went out with like five times.”

You shrug. “That counts for something.

“It really doesn’t,” Alex says matter-of-factly. “Anyway, who else?”

“Hmmm… ooh, Rachel, that super hot secretary!”

“Y/N, that was a one night stand, it literally doesn’t count.”

Sighing, you rack your memory for more, and then comes the answer. “Valentina.”

Alex almost snorts, prompting you to frown at him.

“What?” you question. “That was a real romance, there were feelings there.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Alex almost snorts again. “The most real thing about that relationship was the Chopard watch Valentina tried to use to bribe Jungkook back to her.”

Wincing, you remember the finer details of that supposedly real romance. You turn back out to face the horizon, pulling your own shades down. “Alright, I guess I see your point.”

Gently pushing his point, Alex carries on. “Not to mention that I was your last serious relationship, which was how many years ago now?”

You simply shrug. “I’m not looking for anyone.”

Alex hums thoughtfully. “Or you’ve already ‘found’ your someone.” This earns a glare from you but Alex ignores this. “He’s practically your boyfriend already!” 

“In what way?!”

“You do almost everything together!” Alex exclaims back. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve had sex already!” 

“Alex!” Something in your stomach curls unbidden at the thought. “We haven’t had sex!” you whisper hotly, glancing around to make sure no one heard. 

“Sorry,” Alex mumbles, looking over his shoulder too. Luckily there’s no one nearby, everyone seems too busy engaging in their own excited conversations about the weeks to come. 

Everything you’re hearing now isn’t news to you, you know plenty of people have questioned the relationship between Jungkook and you, and you totally get why, but you’ve been friends since such a young age and that’s perfectly okay. Neither you nor Jungkook have made a move to take things further and maybe that’s just how things are meant to stay, despite what Alex seems to think. 

“Also, what friend agrees to come on a 3 week long cruise for you, knowing full well my father doesn’t miss a single opportunity to roast him.” 

“Here’s here for you, not me.”

“Actually,” Alex raises a finger, “I invited him before you and he said he would meet us in Italy because things were busy with the company. I invited you after him, and the next thing I know is Jungkook is calling me telling me he’ll be coming with you from the start.”

As your eyes narrow, you start to think of how that happened. After Alex invited you, you texted Jungkook straight away to ask if he’d come with you as a date to the wedding. As soon as he said yes, you started waffling on about how fun the trip was going to be and it must’ve been after that that Jungkook told Alex he’d come sooner than he previously planned. 

“Well, any best friend would do that,” you say simply. 

Alex pushes his lips out, brows raised. “I’m your best friend and I wouldn’t do that for you.”

“Hey!” You shove him hard but he barely moves. 

“Oh c’mon, you wouldn’t do it for me either.” Alex looks at you with a smile. 

“Yeah,” you relent. “I probably wouldn’t unless you really needed me.”

Just then, you see Jungkook walking towards you, holding a platter of something. He simply beams when you frown at him in confusion. 

From beside you, Alex raises his glass to his lips. “I’m telling you, the boy is whipped,” he says quietly before taking a sip. 

Jungkook comes within ears width before you can say anything.  “Y/N, look,” he holds out the tray he’s holding, “they have those little cracker things you like with capa, uh, capa-something.” He pushes it closer, gesturing for you to take one while looking pleased with himself.

Looking at the platter, your lips curl mindlessly into a smile. “Caponata,” you say, correcting him gently. 

It’s when Jungkook remembers the little things like this that his place in your heart grows and you’re grateful for having him as your best friend. 

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he smiles. “Here, I got them for you.”

Your brows furrow together as you look down. “The whole platter?”

“Well, yeah,” he says looking down too. “You like them and I’m sure there’s more going around for everyone else.”

From beside you, Alex starts coughing and you’re more than certain you hear the word “whipped” coming out of his mouth. One glance at him proves you’re right as he raises his brows before looking away. 

Jungkook, not having noticed the word Alex let slip, is eating one of the canapés before holding one out for you too. Smiling and thanking him, you take it. 

“Good right?” Jungkook asks, his mouth full as you also eat one whole. 

“So good,” you mumble, brows furrowed as you keep eating. 

Jungkook holds the tray towards Alex. “Want one?” 

“I’m good,” he smiles. “I’ll leave you two to it though, I’ve still got some guests I need to greet.” His smile seems weary though you don’t blame him, sometimes the supposed family friends in your circle don’t seem very much like friends. After saying a temporary goodbye, he takes his leave, leaving Jungkook and you to continue devouring the canapés. 

For a moment, you’re both quiet, save the sounds of pleasure from eating, then Jungkook speaks. “Sophia’s not coming with us by the way.”

Eyes wide, you turn to look at him. “What?!” you question, mouth half full. 

Jungkook takes one glance at you and chuckles. His thumb comes up and wipes something close to your lips. “She’s joining us later, from Nice.”

“Oh.” Your lips turn into a pout. “Who am I gonna hang out with?” 

“You-bo-me,” Jungkook says with his mouthful again.  

“No,” you sigh. “I don’t got you. As soon as Alias is about, you and him turn into Tweedledum and Tweedledee.”

A small laugh escapes Jungkook's lips and you frown at him.

“I’m sorry,” he laughs again, placing the mostly empty tray down on a nearby table. “Look,” he takes your hands and squeezes them, “I promise I’ll stay with you, we can just hang out with Alias too.”

“Yeah, I know,” you say looking up at him. “It’s fine though, you can hang out with whoever you want. You don’t have to stay with me.”

Jungkook hides an amused smile. “I’ll stay with you, we can’t have our princess being alone,” he chuckles again, letting go of your hands to squeeze your cheeks. 

“Mm, my makeup,” you mumble, prying his fingers off your cheeks. “And you can stay with me if you really want to,” you shrug, hiding your smug expression. 

Jungkook scoffs, laughing as you put your sunglasses back on. “I changed my mind.”

“Hey!” you exclaim, and before you get another word out, Jungkook is laughing, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in.

“I’m joking, now let’s go say hi to the Morgan’s, they’ve been looking this way since Alex was here.”

“They’re probably just judging us,” you grumble. 

Jungkook smiles, turning you around and walking with you. “More reason to say hello.”

Most of the first day is spent the same way, greeting some families who you like and some who you don’t but at least you get to do it with a glass of champagne and Jungkook by your side. By the early evening, everyone is settling into their cabins and exploring the cruise ship which feels more like a palace. 

It’s well past midnight when Jungkook is walking you to your cabin which unfortunately is on another level to yours – Alex mentioned he couldn’t get your cabins closer since Jungkook was supposed to be joining later.

“I am so ready to knockout,” you yawn, pulling out the keycard.

“Make sure you don’t forget to take your makeup off,” Jungkook says as a gentle reminder.

Turning around at the threshold of your door, you look at him as he leans against the wall opposite. “I won’t, and you don’t forget to shower, you still stink of chlorine.”

Jungkook chuckles quietly, careful not to disturb any of the neighbouring cabins who are most likely asleep. Alias and him decided it would be fun to cannonball into the deck pool during prohibited hours and subsequently ended up running away from some of the cruise crew and you just happened to be with them even though you refused to jump in because it’s breaking the rules.

“I’m making you join us next time,” he says.

“That’s never gonna happen.”

Smiling slightly, Jungkook tilts his head. “That sounds like a challenge.”

Laughing, you step out of your room towards him. “I wouldn’t try, Jeon.” Raising your hand, you pinch his nose. “You’ll just fail.”

“Or,” Jungkook raises his brows, taking your hand into his, “it could be one of the best nights you spend here, plus running away is fun,” he grins. 

“You call that fun?” you laugh. 

“Tell me it wasn't.”

You shrug. “I have fun whenever I'm with you anyway.” 

Jungkook smiles, and so do you. It’s not hard to be honest around him, it never has been. That’s probably why you’ve been best friends for so long. “So all the time?” he says. 

“All the time,” you repeat, laughing. 

Lips still holding a gentle smile, Jungkook looks down at you and for a second you wait for him to say something but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he releases a small sigh and pulls you into a hug. 

You feel your body relax in his embrace, the weariness of today’s jet lag and socialising and cheeky antics slowly melting away as you breathe in the comforting smell of his cologne. Even though it’s tainted with chlorine, his arms around you seem to make it worth putting up with. 

His hands slide up your back, patting you softly. “I’ll see you in the morning, hm.”

“Just don’t wake me up before noon,” you mumble.

He laughs, pulling away. “Breakfast ends at 11.”

Groaning, you step towards your door again. “I wish Freddie was with us.”

Chuckling quietly, he starts to make his way towards his cabin. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Night,” you wave, seeing him disappear from view as the door closes. You almost collapse onto your bed but manage to trudge to the bathroom to wash off your makeup and get into your pyjamas before finally sinking into bed and falling asleep.

Knock knock knock

Knock knock.

“Y/N?"

Knock knock knock. “Y/N!”

Grumbling, you pull your pillow over your head.

There’s a few more impatient knocks before you hear Jungkook. “Come on, or I’m going down without you.”

“Go,” you groan, tossing in bed. “I’ll eat later.”

Then you hear a series of whining outside the door. “It's already almost 11, it's embarrassing going by myself you have to come with me, please.”

With one final groan, you force yourself out of bed and open the door. “I said not before noon, Koo.”

“Please,” he says, lips forming an effortless pout. “I’m hungry.”

Well you can’t say no now. Sighing, you step aside for him to come in. “Give me twenty minutes.”

Jungkook slumps onto your bed, already dressed casually in a white tee and black shorts. “You have ten.”

With Jungkook rushing you, you meet halfway and manage to get ready in 15 minutes instead. It seems the Cirillo’s spared no expense and managed to keep an entire upper deck private for all of the meals served on sea days. There’s a breakfast buffet laid out inside but before you can even grab yourself a plate, you see your mom frowning at you from her seat outside. She raises her brows and points to her wrist, her not so subtle way of reminding you you’re late.

With a big smile, you mouth sorry and she just laughs to herself, shaking her head. 

“Y/N,” Jungkook calls your name. You look over at him and he’s already standing behind a few people up for seconds, waiting his turn. Walking over, you take a plate and glance down at the table ahead of you. 

“This looks good,” you think out loud. 

“It does, doesn’t it?” Jungkook says, glancing around. He frowns at something, moving his head to get a better look. 

“What? What’s wro–?”

His eyes widen and suddenly he’s crouching enough to remove the inches difference between you, hands gripping your arms. “Hide me.”

“What?” 

“Hide me,” he repeats, the insistence in his voice clearer than before. 

Putting your plate down, you push his shoulders lower. “I am,” you whisper harshly. “But why?” you say, glancing around. 

“No, don’t look,” Jungkook says, his tone becoming something like a whine. “She’ll come over if she sees you.”

“Who?”

Jungkook groans, eyes closing. “Why is she here?”

Ignoring his request not to look, you turn around and scan the room, looking for any familiar faces while your mind goes through a mental list of names of people who could make Jungkook want to hide before a whole breakfast buffet. Just as your name arrives at a potential suspect, the woman herself comes into your view.

“Oh.” 

Tall, glamorous and even graceful, Valentina Forero struts her preppy, perfect figure, dressed head to toe in designer and a handbag so small you’re sure not even her phone can fit in there. 

Immediately, you look away from her and down at Jungkook. He’s already looking up at you with a weary expression. Your lips form an apologetic smile and he sighs, a string of curse words coming out from his mouth in the form of a hushed whisper while he stays pressed against your side trying to hide himself from view.

Of all the things that could possibly go wrong, this has to be the single worst thing.

Valentina is Jungkook’s ex friend with benefits of almost a year. They met shortly after college at your grad party and they started off as casual and eventually there were some feelings involved but they never really bloomed. 

When Jungkook tried to end things after some months, Valentina had a lot to say and for some reason just didn’t want to let him go even though she wasn’t looking for something real. 

You don’t blame her, Jungkook attracts people like a magnet, but their relationship was a little more on the toxic side with some jealousy and so many stupid arguments no doubt stemming from the feelings that budded but never grew. It was better for both of them to call it quits, so they never made things official but to call Valentina anything less than an ex would be an injustice to some of the things they went through.

Stealing a glance at her again, you watch for a few seconds as she makes her way through the families, greeting each one with a bright smile.

As she moves, Jungkook moves too, trying to stay hidden from her view behind you. His head presses against your arm, cheek almost against your left boob.

“Um, Jungkook,” you say, smiling. “I get you’re trying to hide but uh, I don’t think this is a good look…”

“What?” he says, still distracted as he glances towards where Valentina is.

“We’re standing at a breakfast bar on a family cruise and your face is pretty close to my boobs.”

He looks up at you, eyes widening when he realises. “Oh, sorry.” He stands straight, turning to face the bar instead. 

“It’s cool,” you answer, picking up your plate again and nudging him to move forward. “”I’m sure we’ve given the Collins something to talk about for today.” Turning to your right at the eyes ogling you, you smile plastically at Mr and Mrs Collins.

“Sorry,” Jungkook mutters again absentmindedly as he slowly fills his plate.

“Jungkook,” you say, nudging him again as you fill your own. “It’s gonna be fine, there’s so many people here I’m sure you won’t see each other that much, and even if you do, you have me.” You’re already beaming when he looks at you, and his own eyes crease in the corners and he smiles too. “Thanks. I guess you’re right but please don’t ever let me be alone with her.”

“I won’t,” you laugh. “Although once she knows you’re here, I’m sure she’ll try to hookup with you at least once.”

“I hope not,” Jungkook sighs. “She’s not a bad girl but I just don’t wanna go back there, y’know?”

“Mhm, I know,” you say, turning towards the table your parents are seated at. “But what I don’t know is how we’re gonna get to sit without her seeing you.” You nod in the direction of your parents.

Jungkook glances around. “Let’s go sit with Alex and Thalia,” he says, nodding in the opposite direction.

Stealthily, the two of you make your way out onto the deck and approach Alex and his fiancee unseen.

“Oh, Y/N,” Thalia beams, leaning in for a hug as soon as she sees you. “You look beautiful.” 

You snort. “I woke up half an hour ago, I definitely look awful.”

“Absolutely not,’ Thalia says with a gracious wave of her hand before Jungkook gets up to greet her too. “You both look lovely and I'm so happy you’re here!”

“Of course,” you say, smiling at both her and Alex. “We’re even happier to be here and so excited for you.”

“Thank you, angel,” she winks.

“Jungkook, are you okay?” Alex asks quietly, frowning as he watches Jungkook carefully. Glancing to your right, you also notice Jungkook is hunched over his food.

“You’re just drawing more attention to yourself like that,” you let him know before turning back to Alex. “Valentina is here,” you say with a small raise of your brow and both Alex and Thalia immediately let out a little “ah”.

Thalia winces apologetically when she glances back at Jungkook. “I do believe that may be on me. My mother is in the same club as her mother so it seems an invitation was deemed non-negotiable, unfortunately,” she adds, placing subtle emphasis on the last word.

Jungkook shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, I was gonna end up seeing her again eventually at some point.”

Alex coughs, his expression changing. “I do believe that time is coming sooner than you want though.”

Jungkook frowns but you understand what Alex means, as does Thalia as you both look up just in time to see Valentina a few feet away, approaching your table.

With a smile that’s far too innocent for her, she stands at the edge of the table closest to Jungkook. “Well, hello there.”

Alex, being the sweetheart he is, is the first to respond to her greeting, and without surprise, Thalia follows quickly. “Thank you for coming,” Alex says as he gives her a quick hug.

“Thank you for having me.” Valentina steps to the side to greet Thalia too. “And congratulations, I’m so happy for both of you!”

“Thank you,” Thalia says with a genuine smile. As she takes her seat, you get up to greet her too. 

“It’s nice to see you again, Val,” you say as you meet her in a brief hug, although you can’t say you mean it but you hold no animosity towards her. 

“You too, Y/N,” she winks. 

Before she even releases you, Jungkook is getting up and already avoiding eye contact with her. “Hey,” he says, just as she leans towards him too. 

“Hello, Jungkook.” When she gives him a hug, it’s a little longer than your own but Jungkook doesn’t push away despite his expression looking like he wants to. 

Alex, Thalia and you have to fight to keep your smiles contained.

“Gosh, it’s been so long, hasn’t it?” Valentina says as she steps back and takes a seat. 

“I guess,” Jungkook says, showing little expression as he sits back down and resumes eating his breakfast. 

“Oh, come on, it’s been almost two years.” She gives him a knowing expression before flicking her hair behind her shoulder with a flamboyant flair that’s signature for Valentina. “I’m sure you missed me.” She leans her elbows on the table. “I know I’ve missed you.”

Seeing Jungkook’s constipated expression, you step in to help him out. “We all missed you, Valentina,” you smile. “It’s impossible not to.” That’s not a lie either, although she was a big personality to deal with sometimes, she still knew how to have fun and was great to talk to. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, returning your smile before turning her attention back to Jungkook. “You still look as good as you always have too, Kookie.” She leans forward and squeezes his bicep, maybe one too many times. “You’re still going to the gym I see.”

Jungkook stiffens next to you, meanwhile, your eyes are fixated on her hand on his arm. In a gesture of support, you discreetly slip your hand behind his elbow. 

Sitting across from you, your friends both notice this. Then, the cogs in the brilliant mind of Alexander Cirillo turn and he comes up with what can only be a genius idea. Perhaps it's all the romance he’s been experiencing recently with his own fiancee, but Alex is convinced that this can only have one outcome, the only possible outcome – the one that’s been written in the stars since Jungkook and you met so many years ago, he’s sure of it.

Beaming, Alex looks at Valentina. “Don’t they look so good together?”

She pauses then frowns. “Together?”

Your own expression matches Valentina’s as you glance at Alex too. 

“Yes, together,” he repeats as a fact, smiling at Jungkook and you before looking at Valentina.

“You’ve heard, no? Jungkook and Y/N are together.”

From next to you, Jungkook swallows hard and your hand subconsciously tightens around his arm. Both of you are staring at Alex and he just gives you a subtle raise of his brow. 

“Oh, my,” Valentina smiles, and although there’s some kind of genuinity to it, there’s more you can see but haven’t got the mental capacity to try to decipher right now when you’re still trying to figure out what Alex is doing.

 “I should’ve known this was gonna happen, you always were inseparable,” she says with somewhat of an eye roll. 

Jungkook laughs awkwardly, but he’s not stupid and he knows Alex isn’t either. This is one surefire way he can keep Valentina and any of her advances away from him for the next three weeks. All he has to do is pretend to be dating you… how hard can that be?

“Yeah, I guess it was meant to be,” he says, sounding a little stilted. 

You’re still sitting a little dumbfounded but Thalia also gives you an expression that tells you to improvise better. The most you can manage is a meek smile. 

Jungkook responds almost as awkwardly, putting his arm around you which makes Alex laugh.

“Oh, don’t be so coy,” he says, sneaking in a wink to you as Valentina’s eyes remain locked on you both. “It’s been almost what? Eight months?”

“Uh, yeah, almost,” you answer, suddenly feeling shy with the way Jungkook’s hand is gripping your waist. 

It’s not like he’s never had his hand on your waist before — his face was all up in your boobs only fifteen minutes ago — but the feeling remains. It makes your cheeks go warm, your heart races a little faster and your fingers go fuzzy. 

You’re sure it’s showing on your face but Valentina doesn’t seem to notice, or if she does, she must think it’s down to you finding this awkward. 

“Well, congratulations to you too then,” she says, wearing a smile that doesn’t actually seem anything less than genuine, but you’re aware there’s more to her words.

“Thank you,” Jungkook and you say in unison. 

Valentina nods, taking it as her cue to leave. “I’ll see you all around, and except for the engaged couple who get a pass, let’s keep the pda to a minimum please,” she adds airily, words directed to Jungkook and you as she saunters off. 

“Can’t promise anything with these two,” Alex calls out after her.

When he looks back at you, he’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Thalia purses her lips in a smile that resembles a child trying not to laugh while they’re getting told off. 

Turning to them, you burst. “What the hell was that?” you say hotly, seeming more flustered than anything else. 

Alex shrugs. “Sorry, it was the best thing I could think of.” 

“It could be worse,” Thalia adds with a smile that’s supposed to be apologetic but the gleam in her eyes tells you she’s finding this just as amusing as her fiancé. 

Then, Jungkook shifts from beside you and only now do you realise you’re still holding his arm. “Well,” he says, briefly glancing down as you let go, “I guess we’re dating now.”

With a small raise of your brows, you shrug lightly and try not to show any signs of how flustered you’re feeling. “I guess so.”

When you meet his gaze, for a second you go still and think of what it means, how might you be expected to act with Jungkook — but really, it doesn’t seem that much different from how you already are now. Except of course, if you ever had to indulge in any public displays of affection, cheek kisses, lingering hugs, maybe even a peck on the lips…  

The thought of it all sets loose a swirl of butterflies in your stomach and only then do you realise that your gaze is still locked on Jungkook, and he too, is still staring at you. 

With those butterflies still swarming, you abruptly break away from his gaze and notice the tips of his ears are turning pink. You wonder if he’s thinking the same as you right now. 

“See, already believable.”

Alex’s voice interrupts your thoughts and when you turn to flare at him, he’s got a smug smirk on his face. 

“You’re supposed to be smart,” you say with a sigh, pushing down the butterflies that it almost seems like Alex knows all about. “Couldn’t have come up with something smarter?”

“This is smart,” Alex says with a hint of sass.

“How?” you sass back. 

Leaning back, he puts his arm around Thalia as his smirk grows into a smile. “You’ll see, just give it some time,” he sighs, punctuating his sentence with a wink. 

The end of the first night in Cartagena is celebrated with a formal dinner at a private venue with the most beautiful view of the coast. 

The Cirillo’s had a special menu created of authentic foods from the town and the dishes were nothing less than exquisite. So much so that Alias and you are both slumped on a hammock on the balcony with bellies full and happy. A few of the guests walk past and side eye you both, probably because Alias has ungraciously undone the top button of his suit pants but it doesn’t bother either of you. 

“Probably shouldn’t have eaten so much,” you mumble, looking up at the night sky.

“We’ve still got dessert,” Alias sighs, patting his belly. 

“Well sitting there isn’t going to help,” Jungkook’s voice says from behind you. 

Turning your head, you smile when you see Jungkook with two dessert plates in his hand. He comes and sits next to you, handing one to each of you.

Alias still manages to devour his serving in silence, but you take a little longer to eat, wondering if Valentina might be somewhere near now that Jungkook is here; you’re certain she’ll be keeping a closer eye on you both so you ought to be making a conscious effort to act more like a couple but you’re not really sure what else to do. Jungkook bringing you dessert seems couple-ish enough, even though it’s what you would do on a usual night anyway.

The three of you fall into a comfortable silence and you give Alias the rest of your dessert to finish as you collapse into the hammock again. As you do so, you feel Jungkook’s hand brush against yours and immediately you glance down at your hands, noticing how your arms and thighs are touching too. Again, it’s nothing unusual for you, but you start to wonder why it feels a little different now you’ve noticed it.

“Don’t look now,” he says, voice barely a murmur, “but she’s watching us.”

When you hum quietly in acknowledgement, his fingers brush the back of yours tentatively again and for some reason unrelated to the wind that’s blowing, you feel your skin prickling. Releasing a small breath, Jungkook curls his hand, fingers slipping between yours. The pads of your fingers press against him and you return your focus to the night sky above rather than the weird way your heart is beating now.

From your other side, Alias lets out a satisfied sigh before sitting back beside you. “So,” he says without missing a beat, “what’s up between you guys?”

“Hm?” You look at him with a small frown.

“You heard me,” he repeats with the signature boyish grin that he and his brother share. It’s enough to let you know that he knows.

“We’re, uh, together,” Jungkook answers.

Alias snorts. “You gotta sound more convincing than that, Jungkook.”

“I’d like to see you pretend to date someone,” you say, nudging his side.

Shifting to face you, Alias raises a brow. “That’s easy, watch and learn, lover boy.” He leans closer, arm moving across your chest to touch some hair behind your ears.

You get his point – Alias is close enough to lean in and kiss you if he wanted to, and the small action seems intimate enough since you’re almost laying down with him beside you.

His hand gently traces down your cheek and you giggle, finding it funny as he keeps glancing at Jungkook who shoves him back before he goes any further.

“Alright, I get it,” Jungkook says, somehow shifting even closer to you.

When you glance at him, you can’t help but giggle at his expression. He looks a little annoyed, and although you don’t think it, anyone else might think he’s crossed the fine line to jealous — Alias certainly does. 

“Alright, I know, hands off your girlfriend,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. 

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook mutters, “Yeah, whatever.”

Alias just chuckles, leaning back and resting his palm behind his head but unlucky for him, his moment of rest is short lived. 

“Oh for goodness sake Alias!” The hushed whisper of Mrs Cirillo has all of your heads turning. She appears out of nowhere beside the hammock, a look of shock and horror on her face. “Is there a reason you’re basking in the sunset with your trousers half undone?” 

“Actually,” Alias says unbothered, holding up a finger, “only the zipper is undone, so by the length of the trousers, mother, they’re nowhere near half undone.” 

Frustrated, she glances around. “People must be thinking all sorts.” She looks at Jungkook and you who smile awkwardly, sitting up straight as you hope not to get scolded. 

Mrs Cirillo is no stranger when it comes to teaching etiquette and given the many years of friendship between your families, she’s definitely not a stranger to teaching you a few things, and over the years, Jungkook too. 

She sighs when she looks at you. “Darling, you look beautiful. Jungkook, you too, please teach my son a thing or two.” She sighs again impatiently and Alias grumbles next to you as he does up his zipper. “Now, when you’ve made yourself decent, please come with me, your father wants you to meet someone,” she says, not waiting for a response.

Alias groans. “Who? I thought I had met them all.”

“Not this one,” Mrs Cirillo replies airily as she’s still walking away. “He’s just joined us tonight.”

Like the dutiful son he is, Alias gets up and follows his mother, though not without groaning about it some more.

Jungkook and you watch him go, but just like Alias, your moment of rest is short lived.

“Um, Y/N…” Jungkook’s voice sounds apprehensive and when you look at him, his expression seems the same. He’s stretching his neck and looking out towards the opposite direction of the balcony towards the main hall. “Is that… Valentina, with your parents?”

Standing up to get a better look, you realise that Jungkook is right. Valentina is mid-way greeting your parents, your mom leaning in to give her a hug. 

Looking down at Jungkook, you both realise at the same time – your parents don’t know about the two of you. 

Jungkook doesn’t wait for you to say anything and instead – with zero regard for the high heels on your feet – he grabs your hand and rushes you towards them.

“Ow, wait, Jungkook, slow down!”

“Can’t,” he says, although you feel his pace slow down a little. “She’s gonna say something, of course she is.”

Jungkook isn’t wrong and the look on your parents face as you’re less than a few feet away from them tells you that Valentina has just said it. Your dad looks confused and your mom is frowning, her head tilting in the way it does when she’s not sure she believes something.

“Mom!” 

She turns her head to the sound of your voice, as does Valentina and your father.

“Dad,” you smile, catching your breath as Jungkook and you stop in front of them. 

Jungkook chuckles awkwardly next to you and you feel his hand go around your waist. “Sorry to, uh, interrupt…” he purposely avoids Valentina’s gaze. “We just, uh,” he glances at you, “we had a question.” 

“Well, so do we,” your dad starts, looking at you with the same confused expression. “What—”

“The dresses for the couple dance!” you blurt, knowing exactly what your father was about to ask. It would totally blow your cover if it seemed like your parents didn’t know about Jungkook so you need to come up with something fast. “We need to know the colours of the dresses for the couple’s dance, for the wedding.”

If your dad looked confused before, he looks almost dumbfounded now. “A couple’s dance?”

“Y/N, what couple dance?” your mom asks somewhat impatiently and you’re certain she wants to ask the same question your dad was about to, which is most likely about Jungkook and you.

“The one for the wedding,” Jungkook answers for you. “All the couples are doing a dance after Alex and Thalia, you know? At the wedding.” He squeezes your waist gently and you chuckle.

“Exactly,” you say, taking your mom's hand discreetly. “Since Jungkook and I are dancing together, well, he needs to know the colour of my dress and I’ve forgotten.” You say it with no hesitation but with the way you’re squeezing her hand repeatedly, your mom still seems confused.

She glances at Valentina who is now staring at Jungkook’s hand right around your waist, before glancing back at you. 

Taking advantage of Valentina’s momentary lapse in attention, you give her a subtle raise of your brow and hope that mother-daughter telepathy is a real thing. 

“A couple’s dance?” your father asks again. “Honey, I didn’t know about this,” he says to your mom. 

“Well, yes, I suppose I forgot to tell you,” she says, squeezing your hand back and you let out a grateful sigh of relief, as does Jungkook. 

“Y/N, your dress is periwinkle blue for the party,” she says to you before looking at Jungkook. You can see the apprehension in her expression though it’s only noticeable to you. “Jungkook, sweetheart, I’ll make sure your suit is matching with Y/N’s of course.”

“Thank you,” he nods, lips pursed. 

Together, you glance at Valentina who already seems bored. 

“Well, I’ll come find you later, Mrs L/N,” she says, already turning to step away. 

Your mom says a quick goodbye before Jungkook and you are left alone with her and your dad. 

“Is there a reason I didn’t know about this couple's dance?”

Letting out a small laugh, Jungkook pats your dad's shoulder. “Sorry, we made that up, there isn’t a couple’s dance.“

“There isn’t?”

“No, there isn’t,” your mom answers, her brow raises as she looks between Jungkook and you. “But what I would like to know is why we just had to lie and why on earth is Valentina congratulating your father and I about you two and your relationship?”

“It’s because of me,” Jungkook answers immediately which prompts a look of surprise from your parents. “I just wanted an easy way to keep away from Valentina and saying I’m with Y/N was the best way for me to do it.” He lowers his head looking a bit ashamed. 

“Well it was actually Alex who said it first,” you say, stepping forward. “He pretty much roped us into it with Valentina right there, we were clueless.” You take Jungkook’s arm and smile at your parents. “It’s just a little white lie and honestly as long as Jungkook and I are okay with it, then it’s harmless.”

“And you are okay with it?” your dad asks. 

“Sure.”

Your mother frowns, the apprehension still not having left her expression. “And Jungkook… you’re okay with it too?”

Jungkook nods. “Very okay with it.”

“Alright then, but just be wary.” Your mom glances between you both. She opens her mouth as if to say more but shakes her head instead. “Who else knows?”

“Alex, Thalia, Alias, and now you both.”

“Hm, if you want to keep it a secret then I would keep it to that. The more people who know the more likely it is to come out.”

“Yes, I agree,” your dad says, frowning as he thinks. “Although I do think it would make sense to tell Leon and Helena.”

Your mom agrees with him. “I suppose it does but it’s up to you both.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, brows raising. It’s not unusual for your parents to share something with the Cirillo’s, but when it’s something like this, a lie, you don’t imagine your parents telling them.

Jungkook shuffles awkwardly. “Uh, they’re coming over now.”

Your mom looks up, smiling as they come over. “Yes, Y/N, after all it’s not really such a big lie. Jungkook and you do everything together anyway, how much more different can this be?”

“Right,” you nod, confused by the sentiment those words make you feel — perhaps Alex isn’t so wrong, maybe you do do everything with Jungkook. It must be giving the wrong idea to people… 

Though that doesn’t matter now since you need to seem like you’re dating him. 

“Just who I was looking for,” Mrs Cirillo beams as she approaches, but instead of looking at your mom, she’s looking at you.

“Me?” you ask, surprised. 

“Yes.” She looks at Jungkook too. “And you.”

Jungkook shares the same expression as you. “Me?”

“Oh, yes, and don’t act so shy either of you.” Her smile seems rather cheeky, as does Mr Cirillo’s who stands beside her. “What’s this I hear about you two dating now, hm?”

“Oh.” Smiling hesitantly, you prepare yourself to tell them the truth as well. This feels a bit different though because you can see the excitement in Mrs Cirillo’s face, even in Mr Cirillo. 

“I mean it’s about time,” Mr Cirillo says with a deep chuckle, looking at your parents to agree. 

Jungkook looks rather pained as he looks between them both. “Who told you?”

“Alias, of course,” Mrs Cirillo says. “He said you’ve been keeping it a secret for some time though I don’t see why, this is wonderful news!” 

She waves her hand with the statement and with it, a part of you suddenly feels like you’re being let down by yourself. It’s odd to see them so happy for Jungkook and you, only for it not to be real. 

You don’t blame them though — you’ve only been pretending to date Jungkook for a day but you’re already starting to see Alex’s point a little bit more. Having Jungkook by your side just feels right. 

Come to think of it, if anyone else asked you to pretend to be their girlfriend for a few weeks, you’d definitely say no. It would be hard to act so close with someone not only emotionally but physically, whereas thinking of the way Jungkook was so close to your side just a little while ago on the hammock, fingers curled around yours, you feel yourself coil at even the thought of being with anyone else. 

That’s not unusual though, right? The only reason you can’t imagine it with anyone else is because Jungkook is your best friend. He’s the guy you’re most comfortable around and so you feel safe with him. Thoughts pausing, your gaze drifts to him as you briefly zone out from whatever joke Mrs Cirillo is making. 

Jungkook still looks on hesitantly and the way his bottom lip moves, you can tell he’s waiting to say something. As soon as he sees his chance and quickly gets a word in. “Oh, well, actually, Mrs Cirillo, it’s not really real.”

She looks towards him and frowns a little. “What do you mean?” There’s disappointment in her tone that you (for some unknown reason) can relate to.

“It’s more of a make believe relationship, if that’s one way to put it,” your dad answers albeit looking confused himself. 

Mr Cirillo appears to be on the same brainwave as your dad as he looks confused too. “That’s absurd. I believe it very much.”

“Yes, yes,” Mrs Cirillo says, nodding. “Who wouldn’t?”

Pushing aside your own confused feelings, you help clear up this mess. “What we’re trying to say is that it’s not a real relationship.” You glance at Jungkook who looks at you and nods. “We’re just pretending to date.”

“Oh.” Their expressions fall, small frowns replacing the excitement in their eyes. 

“Why would you do that?” Mr Cirillo asks. 

“My ex is on the cruise,” Jungkook answers. “You probably remember her, Valentina?” 

There’s a few seconds of quiet until Mr Cirillo finds the name familiar. “Ah, yes, tall girl, Forero if I’m not mistaken?”

Jungkook nods, lips pursed. 

“So she’s the reason you’re doing this?” Mrs Cirillo gestures between Jungkook and you. 

Jungkook nods again. 

She sighs quietly. “Honestly, it all seems a bit fuddy duddy, Valentina is harmless. There’s better ways to keep someone away, Jungkook, wouldn’t it be better to just ask her to stay away from you?”

“That might come across as more rude than this,” you say with a shrug. “Also, we ought to mention that this was all Alex’s idea.”

“Alex?!” Mrs Cirillo exclaims. “Did he even ask you first?”

“Nope,” you shake your head with a smile having absolutely no qualms throwing your best friend under the bus. 

“Oh, why didn’t you say so sooner?” Mrs Cirillo turns and reaches for her husband's hand. “Leon, I do believe that boy is getting almost as troublesome as his older brother.”

Mr Cirillo laughs. “Oh, it’s just a little fun, besides, having Jungkook and Y/N pretending to play house can’t be all that bad.” He turns to Jungkook and you and winks.

You return his cheek with a smile. “It’s actually easier than it looks.”

“I’m sure it is,” he quips with a quick raise of his brow. His smirk seems telling but you don’t think anything of it at the moment as you feel Jungkook’s hand on your arm.

“Just don’t tell anyone please,” he says, chuckling nervously.

“Of course not,” Mrs Cirillo says. “I think Alex may have been onto something anyway.” She glances towards your mom and they share a smile. “Let’s get something to drink, hm?”

Your mom laughs, taking her arm. “Yes, please, I need one.”

Together, they walk off and to you it looks like they’re high schoolers sharing secrets again — you’re sure they’re going to have lots to talk about again today. 

Mr Cirillo chuckles as they go off. “Three guesses what they’re talking about,” he says quietly to your dad who shares a smile with his friend before they both turn to Jungkook and you.

“Well, I think I’m going to go and look for more dessert,” you say, slowly taking a step back to excuse yourself and Jungkook. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna do that too,” Jungkook says, nodding his head at your dad and Mr Cirillo.

“Of course, I’ll see you later on,” your dad smiles. His eyes fall to where Jungkook’s hand is holding your arm and his smile grows just a little wider but before you can think anything of it, Mr Cirillo makes a comment.

“That’s a nice suit you’re wearing, Jungkook.” He nods, looking visibly impressed.

“Thanks.”

Mr Cirillo continues. “I remember when you would wear your suits from those high street stores with the cheap labels but look at you now, kid.”

Pausing in your slow retreat, you blink. You’ve known Mr Cirillo all your life so you know that the comment really holds no ill intent, and also bearing in mind the fact that you know just how much he has come to admire Jungkook and cares for him as much as he does for you, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay for Mr Cirillo to make a comment like that.

Jungkook only smiles, though he doesn’t need to say anything for anyone to see that the backhanded compliment isn’t appreciated. He continues to step away but now you’re rooted firmly in the spot.

“Well with a personality like his and far more brains than most people combined, Jungkook has never needed material to make him look good, wouldn’t you agree, Mr Cirillo?” Your expression is friendly enough but your tone? Not so much.

He smiles awkwardly, immediately having understood his mistake. “Does that mean the opposite for myself?” he asks lightly.

“Oh, I’ve never thought so,” you say, smiling plastically. “Those words came from your own mouth.”

Mr Cirillo laughs. “You’re a sharp one, Y/N. That's why I like you a lot.”

“Likewise, Leon,” you wink, reaching for Jungkook’s arm. “Now we’ll be off.”

Mr Cirillo still chuckles and you catch your dad smiling at you as you walk away with Jungkook.

“Did you just call him ugly?” Jungkook asks with a small laugh once you're out of earshot. 

“I didn’t call him anything,” you shrug.

He laughs again, coming to a stop with you near the dessert table where you both browse the selection. “You know I could’ve answered myself though,” he says after a moment. 

Taking your pick, you turn to him with a small pout. It’s not the first time someone has made a comment about Jungkook that has annoyed you more than him, and you know that Jungkook prefers to pick and choose his battles wisely, unlike you always feeling as though you have to say something. 

“I know, sorry,” you wince a little. “Force of habit.”

“It’s okay,” he smiles, taking a bowl of Eton mess. 

Together, you start walking towards the same hammock you were previously sitting at.

“I actually think it’s kinda cute,” he adds.

Your brows raise inquisitively. “Having me as your knight in shining armour?”

He shrugs, taking a spoonful into his mouth as you both sit down. “More like my princess with her many privileges.” His lips curl into a smile as he says it.

Laughing, you lean back comfortably into the hammock. “Well, of course, Mr Cirillo wouldn’t dare say anything to me.”

“And no one else other than you would insult Mr Cirillo to his face.”

Holding up your fork, you laugh again. “I only implied, there’s a difference.”

Jungkook hums, leaning back next to you. He takes a big spoonful into his mouth, eating this slowly while you steal some of his. Swallowing, he sits up a little beside you. “You know, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Looking up at him, you frown. “Do what?”

“Pretend to date me.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to?”

He shrugs. “If it makes you uncomfortable, or even if you just don’t want to.”

“I don’t mind,” you say, sitting up with him.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, watching your expression for any signs of a lie. “You sure?”

“I’m sure,” you repeat.

With those words, Jungkook seems to relax. “Okay.” Faint traces of a smile appear on his face as he leans back. 

“The soap here smells amazing,” Thalia says, bringing her hands to her nose to sniff again a few times after drying them. 

Tossing your used hand towel in the hamper, you take a sniff too. “Mm, it does. I smell coconut.”

“And yuzu,” Thalia says, still inhaling the smell. 

Laughing, you pull her hands away from her nose as you walk out of the washroom together. 

The corridor is dimly lit as you walk back towards the restaurant but you’re very impressed by the interior, the burgundy and golden interior of this part of the venue complimenting each other well, especially with the many plants lining the corridors. 

“Where’s Alex?” you ask.

“Somewhere around here,” Thalia answers. “Honestly I lost him an hour ago after he went to check out the golf course here.”

“There’s a golf course here?” you ask, surprised. Though really you don’t know why you’re surprised, walking to the bathroom was a mission on its own, this place is huge. 

“Yeah they have everything, tennis courts, basketball, there’s even a riding school.”

At that, your ears perk up. “Are the horses available to hire?”

Thalia turns to you with a smile. “You wanna go for a canter?”

“Can we?” You ask, eyes lighting up too. “Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve been riding.”

“We’ll have to ask but I’m sure my dad could sort something out for us. Although we have booked a resort for when we get to Barcelona and later on in Malta too. They’re renowned for their riding instructors.”

Laughing, you walk around the next corner together. “How have you booked resorts while we’re on a cruise? I bet Mrs Cirillo had something to do with it,” you add, knowing that she always has to have everything and the best of it for her kids.

Thalia nods with a smile. “My mom and yeah, Helena. They’ve been planning this for a year, of course there’s going to be something for everyone.” 

“Strippers?” you ask, brows raising.

“Except that.”

“Hm, fair,” you say, frowning as you walk around another corner. “Anyway, I don’t really care for the instructors but it’ll have to be Barcelona. I just wanna ride, it’s been so long since I last went.”

Thalia agrees. “Sure, I’ll ask my dad, I’m pretty sure he’s already friends with the owner of the one in Barcelona so it should be easy.”

“Great,” you smile, excited by the thought, though your smile turns into a frown as you realise you’re walking by the same door you just walked out of a little while ago. 

At the same time, Thalia slows down. “Are we lost?” she asks.

Looking up at the women’s washroom sign, your frown deepens. “Yeah, I think we’ve just gone in a circle.” You look up and down the corridor, taking a few steps in the opposite direction from which you just came to follow a different path. “Maybe we should try going left from here instead?”

“There really should be a clearer exit,” Thalia huffs. “My feet hurt.”

Laughing, you glance back at her. “I don’t think anyone was taking into account the fact that people might be walking in 6-inch heels down these corridors– oh.” Mid-sentence, you bump into someone as you’re walking around the next corner. “Sorry,” you say, looking up at the guy as you feel steady hands on your arms to stop you from stumbling. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says at the same time, looking down.

Oh. 

His brows knit together before a smile breaks out on his face. “Y/N?”

“Lawrence!” A smile appears on your face embarrassingly fast. “Hi!”

He chuckles softly, taking a step back and taking his hands with him. You don’t know whether to appreciate the sweetness or be sad they’re gone.

Lawrence Goldman is one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever laid eyes on with a personality to match, and he was your high school crush for years. He was everyone’s crush to be honest, but even in uni, you never were able to stop swooning over him, but that’s all it’s ever been, a crush. For some reason, you could never let yourself take it further despite him showing interest a few times. 

“It’s been so long, my gosh, how are you?” he asks, eyes skimming your figure. “You look absolutely amazing,” he adds without a second thought.

“Hey again,” Thalia says, appearing beside you.

Lawrence gives her a smile, his attention quickly returning to you.

“I’m great,” you beam, “how are you? I’m surprised to see you, I thought you were working in Singapore?”

“I am,” he nods before looking at Thalia. “Well I was, but there was no way I was gonna miss this one’s wedding.”

Thalia laughs, putting her arm around him briefly. “Love you for it, Goldie.”

Lawrence rolls his eyes at the nickname and you smile. Thalia and Lawrence attended the same prep school before reuniting in college, and it’s through Lawrence that Thalia was introduced to Alex and the rest of you — your world is apparently a very small world so Lawrence being here really shouldn’t be a surprise to you, but with everything else going on, you may have forgotten about Lawrence. 

“I’ve only just joined because I had a meeting I couldn’t miss yesterday,” he adds, eyes skimming down your figure once more while he thinks you’re still smiling at Thalia but you definitely don’t miss it. 

“Ah, I see.” You can’t help it when you mirror his actions, noting how the top two buttons of his shirt are undone, giving a peak of the chain he’s always worn since he Longbottom-ed — he clearly knows the effect it has. “So you’re joining us for the rest of the cruise?” When your eyes meet his again, his lips curl into a smirk. 

“Yes,” he nods. “I’ll be here.”

Noticing Thalia glancing between you both, you realise you ought to stop whatever weirdness is going on right now before she thinks there’s something between you, not that she won’t ask you herself anyway. 

“Well that’s great,” you smile, taking a step closer to Thalia’s side.

“Mhm, I’m looking forward to spending time with you,” he says.

Your response is on the top of your tongue — “so am I” — and you intend to say it with a flutter of your lashes, but before you can say anything, Thalia answers for you. 

“We all are,” she grins, hand winding around your waist where she squeezes with a light force when she says the next words. “Including Jungkook and Alex.”

For a second you’re confused but the mention of Jungkook sparks your memory and you remember everything that’s happened in the past few days.

Jungkook and you are dating — you realise now why Thalia interjected and she was right to do so, otherwise you might’ve made a silly mess by opening yourself up to flirting with Lawrence. 

“Oh, yes,” you answer, perking up. “Jungkook will definitely be happy to see you I’m sure, it’s been a while since we all met last.”

“Yeah?” Lawrence casually responds. 

“Of course,” Thalia says with a wiggle of her brows. “Y/N is his girlfriend, she would know of course.”

As you smile dutifully, you catch the confusion briefly show on Lawrence’s face before he quickly disguises it as surprise. “You and Jungkook?” he says, lips turning into a smile. It’s the kind of smile that could mean many things. 

“Yep,” you nod, lips pursed in a smile. 

Something resembling a sigh leaves him. “You guys will have to catch me up on that for sure,” he says.

“There’ll be lots to catch you up on,” Thalia grins, “but right now, can we figure out how to get out of here?”

Lawrence chuckles, stepping to the side. “Of course, I know the way.” He gestures towards the left, waiting for you and Thalia to pass. 

As you fall into stride with Thalia on one side and Lawrence on the other side, you can’t help but feel some kind of disappointment at Lawrence’s reaction, though what did you expect? 

Of course he’s not going to say or do anything differently, and as long as you’ve agreed to be Jungkook’s girlfriend, you shouldn’t want him to react any differently. You’re lucky Thalia stepped in when she did or you might’ve completely forgotten you’re supposed to be in a relationship with someone else and would’ve ended up blowing the story for Jungkook entirely. 

“Ah, here we are!” Thalia skips forward out into the late evening night.

The view on the balcony now is even more beautiful with fairy lights adorning the trees along its perimeter. Everyone you recognise seems to be congregating towards one area as it’s almost time to leave to board the cruise ship again. 

“Oh there you are.” Jungkook appears from the middle of the crowd, not seeming to have noticed Lawrence who’s more closely following Thalia. “We’re leaving soon, here.” He hands you your purse you left with him a while earlier. 

“Thanks,” you answer, taking it and checking you haven’t left anything else. “Sorry, we got a bit lost inside.”

“Mhm, that’s fine, I was just about to come look for you anyway,” Jungkook says, looking at Thalia and only then does he notice Lawrence. The lines expressing concern in his face deepen into confusion.

Seeing this change, Lawrence smiles. “Hey mate.”

In a split second Jungkook’s confused frown changes to a smile. “Lawrence!” Reaching forward, the two share a pleasant exchange. 

“It’s been a while, how’ve you been?”

“Not bad, yourself?”

Jungkook nods. “I’ve been alright.”

“Better than alright from what I hear,” Lawrence says, brow raising as he glances in your direction. 

Jungkook’s gaze follows and you smile with a little shrug, subtly nodding at Jungkook.

“Ah.” Jungkook chuckles, taking a step towards your side. “Well, yeah, better than alright,” he confirms with a very believable smile. 

Lawrence laughs, looking between you. From behind him, you catch Thalia standing beside Alex as they watch the interaction play out. 

“I think it’s amazing,” Lawrence says, patting Jungkook’s arm. “You two are great together.”

“You’ve only just seen us again,” you say with a smile. 

“Hm, I’ve seen it for years,” Lawrence replies with a nod of his head and a small sigh as he looks at you. He’s still smiling but when you look at him, the brightness in his eyes has faded. “Trust me,” he says quieter than before, “I was always watching.”

Pursing your lips, you smile but you still feel self conscious as his gaze on you doesn’t budge. “That sounds a little stalker-ish, Lawrence,” you chuckle. 

Laughing, he shrugs. “Might’ve been. I always was a bit of a recluse.”

“I wouldn’t say you were a recluse.”

He arches his brow, lips morphing into a cocky smile. “Then what would you say I was?”

Mirroring his expression, you scoff. “What d’you want me to say, huh? Tall, handsome and mysterious?”

“Took the words right from my mouth,” he says smugly. 

“Ha,” you laugh. Despite it being somewhat true, you respond to say otherwise. “You wish.”

Lawrence smiles. “Ah, I guess those words are reserved for this one, huh?” He nods towards Jungkook. 

“Hm…” you look towards Jungkook who smiles with his lips pursed. It’s not his usual full smile and behind it there seems to be a reservation that tells you he’s being more quiet than usual. Nudging him gently, you beam when he meets your eyes. “Nah, I’ve got better words for this one.”

He nods and chuckles quietly but only briefly. 

You wonder what’s caused the shift in his mood since he seemed so bright only a moment ago when greeting Lawrence. 

“Oh, you’ll have to tell me all about it, I’m interested to hear how things happened between you,” Lawrence says.

Humming quietly, you nod as your attention remains on Jungkook. “Some other time, I think we need to get moving now,” you say, nodding towards the crowd of moving guests ahead of you. 

“Ah, yes,” he answers, turning to look behind him. “I’ll see you around though, yeah?” He places his hand on your arm. 

You don’t pay much attention to it but feel Jungkook pull on your hand gently. 

“Yeah man, we’ll see you around,” he says, reaching to pat Lawrence’s arm. 

Lawrence nods, throwing you a smile before he turns and joins the rest of your party. 

As he walks away, Jungkook turns to you. “Shall we go too?”

You nod, allowing him to lead the way, hand still in yours. There’s a hum of conversation around you as everyone makes their way back towards the cars to take you to the port, but you’re grateful no one interrupts the two of you as you walk alone, a little behind the rest. 

“You okay?” you ask after a quiet moment. 

Jungkook answers almost right away. “Yeah. You?”

“Mhm.” You watch him as he kicks some of the sand beneath his feet with every step. “You sure though?”

He turns to look at you, a smile on his lips though his brows furrow a little in the middle. “Yeah, why?”

“Just,” you shrug. “I thought you seemed a bit quiet back there with Lawrence.”

Jungkook turns away and shrugs. “I’m all good, no reason not to be.” 

It’s not exactly convincing to you, but you take his word for it. If it’s something he wants to tell you, he’ll tell you in his own time if he wants to. Or, it’s actually just nothing and you’re overthinking this for no reason. After all, there is no explanation that you can think of for Jungkook to be upset with Lawrence, especially when he was so happy to see him just now. Yes, you’re just overthinking it. 

“Y/N, Jungkook, please be on time for breakfast tomorrow and not an hour late like last time,” your mother scolds airily as she waves her hand behind her. 

“Yes, mom,” you smile as she turns into her cabin. 

“Will do,” Jungkook nods, raising a hand to say good night to your parents. 

Once their door is closed, Jungkook continues to walk with you towards your cabin. 

“You better wake up earlier this time,” you yawn, pulling out your key card. 

Jungkook scoffs, coming to a stop next to your door. “Me?!” He rests his hand against the door frame, leaning closer. “You’re the one who was still sleeping when I came down.”

Smiling, you shake your head. “You have no proof.”

He matches your smile, cocking his head. “Alright, I’m recording you tomorrow morning, don’t get mad at me when I get your bed head and dried dribble face on camera.”

“Hey,” you pout, leaning against the door frame. “I don’t dribble.”

Jungkook shrugs, smiling. ”Tomorrow I’ll have proof.”

You narrow your eyes at him, internally vowing to wake up early so you can be ready before he comes to you. “There’s no—“

“Oh, Jungkook, Y/N!” 

The sickeningly sweet cotton candy voice has your smile faltering. Jungkook winces, his face hidden from Valentina as she approaches from behind you. 

Slowly, you turn around to face her.

“Well isn’t this just perfect,” she beams, coming to stop beside you both. “We’re neighbours here!” 

Chuckling, you nod your head. “That really is perfect.” 

Valentine smiles again, glancing between the two of you before shrugging. “Well,” she sighs, opening her purse to look for her key card. “Don’t mind me, I was just grabbing a few things. You two enjoy your night.” She waves airily but doesn’t move. 

“Mhm, you too,” you nod. 

As she pulls out her key card, she’s just about to walk away before she pauses to focus on Jungkook and a delicate frown appears on her face. 

Glancing at him, you’re not surprised to see she’s frowning. Jungkook hasn’t said a word and he looks rather pained right now.

“Jungkook, are you okay?” She tilts her head. “You look a little…” She steps closer, frown deepening as she moves until all of a sudden she stops. “Oh.” Her eyes widen, an apologetic pout appearing on her face. “I see, was I interrupting something?” She asks, pointing between you both. 

For a second you’re confused — yes, she interrupted your conversation with Jungkook and she knows that already — but then you remember that you’re supposed to be in a romantic relationship with Jungkook, and the expression on Valentina's face tells you she thinks she’s interrupted something else. 

Jungkook is obviously just as confused. “Huh?”

“You’re both going to bed now, are you not?”

He frowns. “Uh, yeah…”

“Yes, I thought so. Apologies then…” She glances down towards Jungkook’s crotch as the words that follow imply it — “oh, sorry, I must’ve put that fire out.”

A strangled noise escapes Jungkook’s throat and he looks relatively mortified. “What?— no!” He takes a step closer to your side while you somehow pull him closer to your side protectively in an attempt to hide him from her. 

Valentina doesn’t respond to the expressions on neither of your faces and only sighs disappointedly, flipping her hair behind her shoulder. “I remember there was a time when I was the one to ignite the fire in your loins.”

The same strangled noise comes from Jungkook and you have to stop from bursting out into laughter. 

“Val,” Jungkook says, “were you not going somewhere?”

“Oh, yes.” She perks up, smiling brightly again. “Well you two lovebirds go ahead.” 

Just when you expect her to walk away, she doesn’t. In fact she stands there waiting for Jungkook and you to go into what she thinks is your shared cabin. 

“We will,” Jungkook says with the fakest smile you’ve seen on him.

Valentina only nods, still waiting.

Jungkook is about to say something again but you know there’s no point. Unlocking your door, you pull him into your room with you. “Bye, Val.”

“Good night,” you hear her respond as the door closes shut. 

Turning around to face Jungkook, you look at him with an expression crossed between shock and amusement. “Oh my God, how did you ever date her?!”

Jungkook groans, collapsing face down onto the end of your bed. “I swear she isn’t that bad, she’s doing it on purpose,” he says, muffled into the sheets.

Humming, you sit at the end of your bed beside him. “I guess so.” You lie down so you’re level with him.

Lying beside him, it’s quiet for a moment as you replay the exchange in your head. “So, she must’ve really been something if she was igniting the fire in your loins.” You can’t help but snort after saying it and Jungkook laughs beside you too, head still buried. 

Now that Valentina isn’t here, you allow yourself to laugh at it and you’re glad Jungkook does too. By the time you’re done laughing at it, you’re wiping away tears.

Lifting his head, he shakes his head. “This isn’t gonna be easy,” he says. 

“Yeah, she really doesn’t make it easy,” you respond quietly. 

Both of you fall silent for a moment again, listening carefully to see if you can hear her footsteps. 

“I can’t hear her anymore,” Jungkook says.

“Me neither.” You turn to look at him. 

He props himself up on his elbows. “So what now?”

“Well, we could wait till she goes away and then you sneak out,” you think aloud. “But how are we gonna do that every night?”

Jungkook nods, understanding. “So I should just stay?”

“I’m cool with it if you are,” you shrug.

For a moment, Jungkook doesn’t say anything, then he looks at you with a soft frown creasing his forehead. “Are you sure?”

“Totally sure,” you nod, rolling onto your side to lean on your elbow. “Besides, it’s not like we’ve made things easy for ourselves,” you add with a laugh. 

The lines seem to have disappeared from Jungkook’s face but when your eyes search for some kind of clue to his feelings, you find something you can’t decipher hiding behind the brown of his eyes. 

He smiles, releasing a soft breath as he does so, and only now do you realise how close your face is to his. 

“Promise me you’ll tell me if you feel uncomfortable?” he says. 

Nodding, you lift your pinky finger. 

He raises his own hand and closes his own pinky finger around yours. 

“I will,” you promise him.

His smile grows and oddly, you feel your heart do a little flutter in your chest as a warm feeling spreads through you. You’re suddenly reminded of how you felt earlier on in the evening as you lay on the balcony with Jungkook… has he always made you feel this way? Before you can let yourself think about it, Jungkook is leaping off the bed and with him, the feeling disappears. 

“So, I don’t plan on having your mum tell me off tomorrow morning so I’m going to sleep.” He turns to look at you, placing his hand on his hips.  “Slight problem though, my clothes are in my cabin.” 

“Then go get them, duh,” you answer.

“What if Valentina is still outside?” he says, pointing to the door. “It’s only been a few minutes, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s trying to eavesdrop on us right now.”

“Hmm…” you can’t deny he has a point. “Well I guess,” you say, dropping your voice to a whisper, “you won’t know until you try.”

“Alright,” Jungkook sighs, grabbing his phone from the bed. 

You follow him to the door and you’re actually almost surprised when he opens it to reveal no one is there. Jungkook turns to look at you sporting a similar expression on his face and shrugs before stepping out. 

“I guess that makes things easier for us—“

You’re interrupted mid-sentence as Jungkook immediately turns back into the room with a slightly panicked expression, barging into you. 

“Jungkook!” Losing your balance, you feel yourself falling backwards with Jungkook stumbling forward. Your ass hits the floor first and you just manage to bring your arms behind you in time but your head still hits the carpeted floor behind you, and Jungkook who seems to fall in slow motion with you, eventually lands on top of you. 

“Oh I’m sorry,” he mumbles, pushing himself up onto his forearms.

“That really hurt,” you groan, squirming on the floor. You’re grateful the floor is carpeted but both your head and ass still hurt. 

Jungkook looks down at you with concern replacing any previous features. “Where?” 

Rubbing the back of your head, you frown at him. “Everywhere. Why’d you turn back?”

“She’s right there!” Jungkook suddenly whispers instead. “She was practically having sex against the wall with some guy.”

Still recovering from your fall, you look at him confused. “What?”

Jungkook grimaces. “She was outside her room with some guy.”

“But we just saw her!” you respond in a hushed whisper. 

“I know! He must’ve been close by and they were making out like their lives depended on—” 

“Well, this is interesting.”

Rolling your eyes at the sound of her voice, you let your head drop back onto the floor while Jungkook scrambles to move off of you. Moving beside you, he reveals Valentina standing at the door, her lipstick smudged and her hair a bit messier than it was a little while earlier.

She narrows her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. “Foreplay on the floor is new to me, and leaving the door open…” She looks directly at Jungkook. “I didn’t know you were into voyeurism.”

Jungkook visibly freaks out, getting up and pulling you with him. “No, gosh, it was an accident.”

Valentina frowns. “I don’t judge, Jungkook,” she says matter-of-factly.

“I wouldn’t care if you did,” he replies almost exasperatedly. “But this was just an accident, we fell over.”

“Hm, okay,” she says with a shrug as she glances at the bed. 

You know she doesn’t believe him but really there’s nothing else you can say to make her think otherwise. Besides, you don’t really care what she thinks while your head still hurts. 

“Well, anyway, I’ve got to go.” She looks back at you with a smirk. “How about we both do our best to keep it down tonight, hm?” she winks before turning and fluttering her fingers. “Ta-ta angels, see you in the morning!”

As soon as she’s disappeared from view, you go shut the door behind her, leaning against the wood. 

“Okay, she is so doing it on purpose.”

“I know,” Jungkook agrees almost immediately. “I don’t get why though.”

“I know why,” you say, raising your brows. “She probably still isn’t over you.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “If anything, she’s just not used to people moving on from her. Her exes were always all over her when we were together.”

“So she expects you to go crawling back to her?”

“Pretty much,” he shrugs. “She’s really not helping herself though. Maybe I should talk to her, tell her to just give me space…” He looks at you, raising his brow in question.

“You could, but I reckon she’ll just act innocent and pretend she has no clue what you’re talking about.”

“True,” Jungkook sighs.

“Look, it’s fine,” you say, walking over to the drawer. “It’s just Val, nothing we haven’t dealt with before.” Throwing a set of satin pyjamas on the bed, you turn around to face him again. “Besides, I’m tired now, my head hurts and I’d like to sleep.”

The frown on Jungkook’s face doesn’t disappear. “It still hurts?” he asks, coming over to you. 

“Yeah, you knocked me over pretty hard, my ass hurts too,” you pout.

Jungkook chuckles, hands coming to rest on your shoulders and he squeezes gently. “Want me to massage it?” he jokes.

“Ooh, good idea. Let’s leave the door open too,” you laugh.

Jungkook smiles, still giving you a shoulder massage and you feel yourself letting go slowly. 

“Mm,” you hum softly, head relaxing. Jungkook steps closer and you let your forehead rest against his chest.

You don’t realise as Jungkook’s hands stop working and gently make their way around your waist, holding you up as you get lost in the warmth of his embrace.

“Should we go to bed before you fall asleep here?” Jungkook says after a moment. 

Pulling away from him, you smile with tired eyes. “Dibs on the bathroom first.”

Jungkook obliges and sits down on your bed while you go first. When it’s his turn, he goes quickly since he has the most minimal night time routine, one of which you’ve always been envious of. 

You’re just finishing brushing your hair when he’s coming out.

“What time is it?” he asks, stepping out as he dries his face. 

“Almost two,” you respond, getting up to walk over to your pyjamas on the bed. 

Jungkook turns around without being told, facing the opposite direction. “D’you think I could go get my clothes from upstairs now?”

You pull on your pyjama bottoms. “Probably not. I don’t think I have anything that would fit you either.”

“What do I do then?” Jungkook asks, his confused tone making you laugh.

“Don’t act like you don’t sleep naked half the time, Jeon.”

“Well when I’m alone, yeah. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” he says.

“I’m not, don’t worry.” You clamber into bed, pulling the sheets up to your shoulders as you get comfortable. “Just get into bed.”

Still facing away from you, Jungkook shrugs before pulling off his top. You don’t realise you’re staring at him strip until he starts pulling down his pants.

Abruptly, you pull the covers up even higher so you can’t see him. You hear him shuffling and then he stops but you can’t feel him getting into bed.

“Really?” he says. “My abs offend you that much?”

You can’t help but laugh, still keeping your eyes closed as you move the sheets down but place your hand in front of your eyes instead.  “Actually, they make for pretty good eye candy.”

Jungkook gasps scandalously, still shuffling about the room. “Have you been checking me out, Y/N?”

Cocking your head, you smile. “Now what kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t appreciate you and your God given looks, hm?”

“A terrible one.”

“Exactly.”

“So why are you covering your eyes?” he asks, his voice growing louder as you feel the covers move beside you. 

“Because there’s another friend of yours that I don’t think I should be seeing as your best friend,” you say, ignoring the way you feel your cheeks go warm when you say it, and especially the way Jungkook’s deep chuckle sounds as you notice the bed dip beside you.

“He’s covered,” he says quietly.

“Not enough.”

Jungkook laughs again and this time you can feel his body beside yours. “That friend is hidden safe and sound, Y/N. You can look now.”

Peeking your eyes open slowly, you see Jungkook right beside you in bed. He’s sitting up, smiling down at you with his abs eye level to you. You’ve seen Jungkook topless before plenty of times, but being this close and being in bed with him is new to you. You’re sure it’s the reason you feel your heart rate rising. 

“Good,” you say, turning away. “Now hide the eye candy please. It’s bedtime, I’ve brushed my teeth and I’m not trying to get a cavity.”

Jungkook laughs, sliding down further into the bed to cover himself up to his shoulders. 

“They’re that sweet, huh?”

“I’d be disappointed if they weren’t, all that time in the gym would just be a waste.”

“Now that’s true,” Jungkook says with a smile, shifting in the bed so he’s more comfortable.

You hum quietly, staying still as Jungkook moves. Only once he’s found his comfortable position, then you do the same, turning onto your belly facing him. 

Jungkook happens to be facing you too and he smiles sleepily as his eyes close. “Good night, Y/N.”

Your eyes remain open for a few seconds as you look at him a little longer. “Mhm, night Koo,” you whisper, smiling even though he can’t see you. 

He looks pretty when he sleeps. You take in every one of his features, unaware that there is still a smile on your face as you do so.

Catching you unaware, Jungkook winks an eye open. “What’re you looking at, hm?” he asks softly with a teasing lilt to his voice. 

You feel flustered, eyes going wide. “There’s something on your face,” you say quickly, brushing nothing off of his face. “Eyelash or something,” you mutter, subconsciously shifting away from him a little since the close proximity definitely isn’t helping. 

“Uh-huh,” he nods, hiding a smile. 

You’re not sure what it is about his smile that makes your heart skip a beat and your senses go fuzzy like they’ve done so more than once now because of Jungkook. It’s odd, he’s not doing anything different, yet you feel different. Mentally, you officially dub this The Jungkook Effect. 

There’s not much you can say to defend yourself so you press your eyes shut and fight back a smile yourself. “Well, anyway, good night.”

“You sure you wanna sleep?” Jungkook teases. 

“Oh shut up,” you say with a laugh, you pull one of the pillows out from behind your head and place it in the small space between your torsos. 

Jungkook lifts his own head off his pillow and looks down at it with an amused smile. “Is this really necessary?”

Lifting your own head and resting on your palm, you arch your brow at him. “I’ve read enough books to know what happens when two people who aren’t dating share a bed.”

Jungkook mirrors your expression and dares to move an inch closer. “And what’s that?”

Smiling like the little know it all you are, you answer, “They wake up in the morning with someone’s cute ass, which would be mine in this case, conveniently pushed up against someone’s dick.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue and the smirk on his lips is clear as day. “Ah, which would be mine,” he says, briefly looking down. His lips look wet when he says it and for some reason you find yourself wanting this conversation to continue on the same wavelength it is right now… but it’s also at this moment you realise you’re lying in bed and practically flirting with your best friend.

“Exactly,” you say, letting out a small breath as you fall back into your pillow, looking up to the ceiling.

Pursing his lips, Jungkook hides a smile. “Well I guess we definitely don’t want that to happen.”

You stifle a laugh as you lightly whack him with the pillow between you before putting it back in its place. “Shut it, Jeon.” 

He chuckles, falling back into his pillow. “Just kidding,” he murmurs, sliding further beneath the covers and getting comfortable. “Good night, Y/N.”

With a tired smile, you hum. “Good night, Koo.”

The stops at St Tropez and Nice both pass as quickly as the first few cities in Spain and before you know it, you’ve visited all the cities scheduled for France too. The stop in Barcelona has been your favourite so far though — the resort the Diamindis’ booked for the families on the cruise most definitely did not disappoint and the riding you got to do was just a big bonus, especially watching Alias struggling with his mare. 

The whole Jungkook situation has been pretty easy to navigate too. Now that the important people in your life know it’s not real, it makes it easier and Jungkook and you only need to behave as you normally do so you’re both happy. On top of that, you’ve noted that you haven’t had any more experiences with the Jungkook effect, though you’re not sure you can say that pleases you. 

It’s also been a while since you’ve hung out with Lawrence. He seemed to stay close in the first few days but you figured it must be his parents encouraging him to socialise with some of the other families since he’s not at home much. This became true enough when you saw him stuck at a table in some fancy restaurant in Nice with the Maddison’s. 

Although you did hope to get to spend some more time with Lawrence, at least for old times sake, you can’t say you care much, especially since Sophia has finally joined you. 

“Why don’t we go to the pool?” you say, raising your brows at Sophia. It’s almost midnight but you’re still lounging on a quieter deck with Jungkook and Alias. Since it’s a sea day tomorrow, you don’t need to be up early and it seems like it’ll be more fun than the last time now that Sophia is here too.

She perks up at that, turning towards you. “It’s closed right?”

“Yep, but that just makes it better,” you smile, ignoring Jungkook and Alias scoffing at your change in opinion — last time you were adamant that you should be following the rules. 

“Okay, let’s do it.” She looks at Jungkook and Alias. “You guys joining us?”

“Sure,” Alias hops up. “It’ll be fun to see Y/N break the rules,” he grins at you.

Sassing him, you get up too. “This time I’m pushing you in.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Alias tenses, flexing his biceps. “I’m 73 kilos of this,” he nods.

It’s no secret that Alias has an impressive figure, but unwilling to cave, you just roll your eyes and playfully swat his arm. “Whatever.”

“Alright, let’s meet at the top deck pool in ten minutes?” Jungkook says hopping up from the lounge. 

“Make that fifteen,” Sophia says. “I don’t know where I put all my swimsuits.”

Agreeing, you all head towards the upper decks, only splitting up to go towards your respective corridors to your cabins. Sophia and Alias go right towards the corridor where their family cabins are situated, while Jungkook and you still need to walk a little further to get back to your shared cabin.

Surprisingly, it’s been easy to share a cabin with Jungkook. Most days you come back from whatever activity you had that day and knock out easily since you’re so tired. On top of that, your pillow idea seems to be working perfectly and you haven’t experienced any awkward or uncomfortable moments. There have, however, been a few times you’ve mistaken the pillow for Jungkook and in the split second it takes you to realise it’s only the pillow, you can swear your heart skips a beat and your pulse races. The disappointment that follows is something you can’t seem to explain to yourself. 

“So Sophia comes and all of a sudden you’re Little Miss Daredevil, huh?” Jungkook says, as you walk together. 

You glance at him and note how handsome he looks today. After spending some time in the sea while in Nice, his dark locks are curled and framing his face perfectly. He walks with his hands in his short pockets and the linen material of his shirt blows in the evening air giving the occasional glimpse of his lean figure. It occurs to you that this is going to be coming off in a short while when you go to the pool—

Oop. You pause your thoughts, realising that the little flutter you just felt down south was definitely due to picturing your best friend topless. A part of you feels guilty wondering if Jungkook would be embarrassed, but you also know that Jungkook knows what you think of his physique. You pretty much said it all the other night and he’s caught you looking plenty of times before that, even making jokes about it when you did.

“She brings out that side of me,” you sigh, smiling as you descend the steps that lead towards your corridor.

“Alias and I aren’t good enough for you, huh?”

“Don’t take it personally,” you joke, and Jungkook just laughs quietly so he doesn’t wake up anyone as you walk past some cabins. 

Once back at your own, you quickly change into a bathing suit and throw on a hoodie and shorts so in case any staff see you, they don’t suspect you’re planning on going to the pool.

Alias is already waiting at the top deck and you can also see he’s brought some drinks along with him. He’s chosen not to cover up and is revealing his washboard abs for the whole world to see, and let’s not forget those killer thighs of his. 

“Beat you here,” he says without even thinking.

“Who was counting?” Jungkook says, bumping shoulders with him on purpose. 

“I was,” Alias responds, and quickly the two resort to their childish antics as Jungkook pulls him into a headlock. You choose to sit and watch, dipping your toes in the pool as you throw your hoodie to the side. 

“Guys, shut up, we can hear you from a mile away,” you hear Sophia’s voice from behind you as she climbs the steps to your deck. 

Jungkook and Alias stop mid-wrestle and you get up to pull your shorts off. 

“Huh?” Alias frowns, pulling himself free from Jungkook. “We?”

Once Sophia is standing on the deck, you see someone else coming up behind her. 

Lawrence. 

Sophia steps to the side as he steps up. “Yeah, we,” she repeats. 

“Hey guys,” Lawrence says with a harmless smile, glancing across at you all.

“Hey,” you smile back.

“Oh, hey man,” Alias waves. 

Jungkook smiles too with a nod of his head. 

“I saw Lawrence on the way so I thought I’d ask him to join us,” Sophia explains as she too pulls off an oversized hoodie. 

“I hope that’s alright,” Lawrence chuckles awkwardly.

“The more the merrier,” Alias says with a shrug. “So,” he looks at you, “who are we pushing in first?”

“You,” you smile. 

Alias spreads his arms, inviting you. “I’d love to see you try, babe.”

Glancing to his right, you subtly raise your brow at Jungkook who smiles back at you. In a split second, Alias is being lifted from the ground and tossed into the pool. 

Sophia and you jump into the pool right after, surfacing close to Alias.

“I thought we were friends,” he laughs at Jungkook splashing water towards him. “Gosh, I forgot how whipped you are.” 

Jungkook just laughs and shrugs. “Sorry, man,” is all he says.

“You getting in?” Sophia asks Lawrence as she joins you next to the pool, dipping your toes first. 

He nods. “I guess.” He glances around looking at the empty surroundings. This top deck is pretty big considering it’s wholly private.

“What?” Alias holds out his arms. “We’re not good enough for you?” he jokes. 

“Of course you are,” Lawrence says before he shrugs, lips curving into a smile. “I just think with all this space, we could do something more.”

“Oh.” Sophia raises her brows, intrigued. “Like what?”

She speaks for all of you as you all look at him.

“I risk sounding like a five year old,” he says with a small laugh, “but how about hide and seek.” He looks around again. “We’re on a ship, we’ve got plenty of hiding spaces.”

The rest of you glance at each other and it’s clear that you’re all in agreement.

Alias jumps out of the pool. “Alright, but it’s hide and seek chase.” He grabs a towel and dries himself off. “I’m it first,” he adds with a devilish smile.

“Even better,” Lawrence says, pleased that everyone is on board. “Are we splitting up or staying together?”

“I’ll go with Y/N,” Jungkook says, approaching your side as you get up from the side of the pool. The air is chilly to your wet skin but you quickly warm up as Jungkook helps you pat dry.

“I’ll stay with Lawrence,” Sophia says, walking over to his side.

“Alright let’s stick to the top two decks when hiding, but if I’m chasing you, we can go anywhere,” Alias says, pulling on a linen tee.

“Where’s the base?” you ask, covering yourself up too. 

“Here?” Sophia proposes.

“Or only inside the pool,” Jungkook adds to the suggestion with a shrug.

Lawrence nods in agreement, as do the rest of you.

“Alright,” Alias smirks. “Ready?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before starting to count down, “one hundred, ninety nine, ninety eight…”

The rest of you bolt immediately knowing that 100 seconds with Alias will only be 50, if that.

Sophia doesn’t even wait for Lawrence’s confirmation before running in the direction she came from but he follows her anyway.

With a tight hold on your hand, Jungkook pulls you in the opposite direction, already running faster than you can keep up with. 

“Slow down,” you laugh, squeezing his hand.

“C’mon,” he says without turning back and without slowing down. “We gotta get away first, he’s only gonna count to ten.”

Just as you suspected, even with the distance that’s been put between you already, you can hear Alias yell out for you all to hear.

“Ready or not, here I come.”

You’re just grateful there’s no cabins near here. 

It feels like you’re running for a mile, starting outside before Jungkook takes you through a door and down multiple corridors and even two smaller staircases you had no idea existed. He’s slower now which comes and a relief to you, but you’re still panting from all the sprinting.

“Koo, where the hell are we going?” you ask, tugging on his hand to make him stop.minutes, you find yourself on a part of the ship you’ve never been to before.

“You’re lost, aren’t you?” you say, not really caring about being lost because you’re just glad Jungkook stopped running.

“No, I’ve been here before.” Judging by the way he’s walking, it does seem like he knows where he’s going. “We’re near our cabin.” 

“Really?” You look around, frowning at your surroundings. “I don’t recognise it.”

“Yep,” Jungkook takes your hand as he taps his pass on a door to go down a corridor which you still don’t recognise but from the smell, seems to be near the kitchen. 

“Wait, Jungkook…” you pause, looking back at a small sign above where Jungkook tapped his card. Staff only. “How?” you ask in bewilderment.

Jungkook just pulls you forward with a smug look on his face “Alias gave it to me. He got one for himself and Alex too.”

Of course he did. “He’s trying to get us kicked off, I swear.”

“It’s just for a little fun,” Jungkook grins. “Besides, this way, we can win the game.”

“Yeah, except Alias can get in here too then.”

Coming to a split in the corridor, Jungkook stops. “Oh yeah,” he mumbles. “Well, 

“Hey!”

Jungkook and you both turn on the spot to the sound of a voice from ahead of you. It’s a member of staff, the same one from the night Alias and Jungkook jumped in the pool. He seemed pretty mad at the time and seeing his expression now as he starts walking towards you, he seems the same. You don’t blame him, he was chasing you guys for the better part of ten minutes.

“Run?” Jungkook whispers, his fingers clasping yours tightly.

“Run,” you nod.

Before you know it, your legs are moving as Jungkook leads you down the closest corridor.

“Hey! Stop!” 

You almost feel bad about running away, but at the same time, you know that the guy is only trying to stop you to feed whatever power trip he’s on, so you keep running as fast as you can to try to keep up with Jungkook.

“Do you know where you’re going?” you huff, looking over your shoulder.

The guy is right behind you. 

“No,” Jungkook laughs, slowing down as he sees a corridor to his right. 

“Keep going,” you laugh too, pulling him down the corridor before the guy can catch up. 

“Oi, I said stop!” he yells.

“What d’you think, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, though he shows no sign of stopping. “Should we listen to him?”

“Never,” you respond, glancing back again. He seems to be slowing down but you don’t stop yet. This time, you take the lead and go down a smaller corridor which you realise leads to a staircase.

“Up,” Jungkook ushers you, letting you go first. Luckily it;s a short one and Jungkook comes up close behind you.

“Left or right?” you ask, glancing down the corridor. The left leads to a door which heads outside, the right leads to a door which seems to hide a dimly lit corridor.

Jungkook takes your hand again, going left. As he pushes the door open, you hear the guy is still coming close behind you. “Stop,” he yells.

You’re honestly surprised he’s still chasing you but you’re also tired now and really just want to stop. “Koo, I think I have asthma,” you breathe out, feeling your steps slow down.

Jungkoook chuckles, looking back at you. “Y/N, we’ve been through this before, you don’t have asthma.”

You would pout because you know he’s righ and you still want to stop but you also don’t want that guy to catch up to you. 

Still, Jungkook glances around while jogging as though he’s looking for something. “Ah, there!”

You’re too tired to ask what, only letting Jungkook lead you across the deck to a door which takes you back inside. As you enter, you see the staff still coming behind you. Gosh, he’s bothered. After only a few yards, Jungkook uses the staff pass to open a door on your right. Inside is a small room with a few shelves lining the walls and one big one in the middle; it’s full of rescue equipment.

“What the hell, Koo?” you laugh, letting him take you inside as he closes the door quickly. 

He takes you to hide behind the biggest shelf in the middle of the room. With your back pressed against it, he stands close in front of you so he can still see the door.

When you look up at him, you see a massive grin on his face and that mischievous gleam in his eyes that you love.

“You’re crazy,” you murmur, restraining a laugh.

“Shh,” he whispers, placing his hand beside your head as he takes the smallest step closer, one that’s enough for you to feel the warmth of his breathing as his chest rises and falls so close to you. 

The sensation makes you fall quiet anyway and you’re sure that even if you did speak, no one from outside would be able to hear you, but you’re rather enjoying the feeling of having him this close to you. The smell of his perfume – your favourite – fills you with every heavy inhale as you catch your breath too, and suddenly, you find this feeling familiar.

That damned Jungkook effect. 

Since you’re stuck here hiding for a few moments, you can do nothing but just embrace it as it comes. Apparently you’re embracing it a little too much as you don’t realise your eyes close and your head slowly moves closer to his chest. It just feels so good being this close to him – feeling his warmth, smelling him… his body is so close to yours, you wonder what would happen if you just took another step forward and–

“You okay there?” Jungkook’s voice comes out low with a humorous lilt.

‘“Hm?” Your eyes go wide as you realise your head was resting on his chest. “Sorry,” you mumble, suddenly feeling your cheeks go warm. “I’m tired, it’s late.”

“Mhm, that’s okay.”

Looking up, you see the mischievous gleam in his eyes has changed to something playful. 

“You can use me as a pillow anytime,” he adds with a wink.

Scoffing, you poke him in the chest. “Well I gotta put these pecs to use somehow.”

He laughs quietly before poking his head out to the side. “Come on, I think he’s gone and we’ve got a game to get back to.”

You follow him to the door and find the corridor empty, thankfully. “Alias has probably already found the other guys.”

“That would make us the winners.”

“Mm, I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to get back to base first.”

“Oh, yeah.” Jungkook pauses, looking around. “Where is the base from here?”

“Um…” Stopping beside him, you look around too. It’s hard to tell when it’s dark but there’s some parts of the deck which look familiar to you. “I think we keep going forward.”

“Actually, I think we’ve passed the way up.”

“What?” you frown, looking up confused. 

“Well the pool was at one of the top decks and there’s one way up which we missed, no?”

“I don’t think so.”

Jungkook looks down at you, his brows raised. “Really?”

“Really,” you say, taking his hand to tug him along, except he doesn’t move. When you look back at him, you see he’s got his brows raised with a smile, one that only spells a challenge. 

“Oh, c’mon, Koo,” you sigh. 

He shrugs before swinging your hand. “Let’s see who gets there first then,” he says in a sing-songy voice.

“Fine,” you shrug, already turning away from him. “Just be careful Alias doesn’t get you on your way.”

“I’ll be fine, just look out for yourself,” he responds as he already starts skipping back the other way. 

Shaking your head, you turn back to look at your surroundings. You’re sure there’s a small staircase somewhere near here that you’re supposed to go up which should be close to the pool. It’s when you’re glancing around now that you realise it’s actually quite scary being alone on an empty deck late at night with no company but the sea.

Taking a few steps back, you look down the way you came to see if Jungkook might still be there but of course he’s not – he’s probably running to make sure he gets back before you.

Sighing, you continue down the path that seems familiar to you, only to hear a small bang from somewhere in front of you. Immediately, you’re relieved to see Lawrence coming around the corner ahead of you.

He smiles when he sees you. “Hey,” he says, voice hushed. 

“Hey,” you answer, looking behind him. “Was that bang you?”

He looks back, confused for a split second before he nods. “Oh, yeah, I just jumped down the last few steps when I was coming down.”

“Right. Where’s Alias and Sophia?”

“Well Alias tried to get me just a little while ago but I lost him,” he says, looking proud of himself before he frowns. “Where’s Jungkook?”

“We split up,” you answer with a smug smile. “He thinks the base is back this way.” You point in the direction that he went in. “But I know it’s this way.” You point in the opposite direction.

Lawrence chuckles, looking at you somewhat endearingly though it goes unnoticed by you. “Uh, Y/N, it’s the other way.”

“Huh?” you frown, looking back. “Really?” 

“Yep,” he nods, hiding an amused smile. “I can show you the way if you like?”

Sighing in defeat, you agree to go with him. “It’s not like I have any chances of beating him now.”

“Ah,” Lawrence sighs as he falls into stride beside you. “Still got the competitive streak I see?”

“Me?” you laugh quietly, glancing at him.

“Mhm, you,” he says matter-of-factly, still sporting a smile.

Looking at him now, you note how relaxed and care-free he seems. You’re not sure whether it’s because his usually swept back hair is now falling freely, or if it’s because of the glow on his face from the light sheen of sweat from the humidity of the evening air. It’s nice to see him like this, even the smile is a difference – growing up he always seemed so mysterious and quiet which no doubt had to do with the pressure he faced as an only child and a big family name to live up to. 

“Well, it’s good you remember. I won’t be losing today either,” you say with a playful nudge.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he laughs. “If we bump into Alias, I’m ditching you fast.”

“I hope so, you’re dead weight to me.”

“Hey!” He nudges you back as he still laughs, loosely running his hand through his hair.

“Mm, remember when we were kids?” you say, suddenly reminiscing. “We used to do this stuff all the time.”

Lawrence nods. “I do,” he says with a smile. “There was one Christmas, we all went up to that chalet in… oh, where was it?” he frowns, looking at you. “Courchevel?”

“Hm…” You shake your head as it rings a bell. “I don’t think so, there was only one year we celebrated Christmas abroad all together and it wasn’t in France.”

“Switzerland?”

“Yes!” You say, pointing your finger at him as you suddenly remember the finer details of the trip.  “At St Moritz, we had that massive suite at Kempinski.”

“That's the one,” Lawrence says with a smile matching yours. “D’you remember those nights we would always want to go out but our parents never let us? So we used to run around hiding from them.”

“Mhm,” you nod. “I remember Leon and Helena would get so mad, even I was scared of them but their own kids never even cared.”

“My parents got mad too but we still did it every night,” Lawrence laughs, his walk slowing down as the two of you approach the bow. “I wonder how he were so brave,” he continues, “I bet it was Alias’s idea, all the fun stuff was always his idea.”

“Mm, actually, I think it was yours,” you say, tilting your head towards him. 

“Really?” Lawrence questions, brow raised as he walks closer to the ledge overlooking the tranquil evening sea though you can’t actually see much besides a distant glittering coastline. 

“Mhm, really,” you nod, coming to stand beside him.

Lawrence turns so he’s facing you, a thoughtful expression on his face but his lips are still curved in a smile as they have been this whole time. “I’m surprised you remember.”

You shrug. “I remember a lot of things.”

Lawrence opens his mouth as though to say something before closing it. 

“What?” you ask, turning to face him too. 

He shakes his head. “I was about to ask something but it’s probably gonna sound stupid.”

“Stupid questions are my favourite to answer,” you say with a smile. 

He arches a brow, his smile changing to something more timid. “D’you remember a lot about me or just everything in general?”

You laugh, not having expected that. Lawrence isn’t really the conceited type so you don’t think it’s coming from a place of vanity, and the shy hesitancy he says it with almost makes him seem cute — like he wants you to say him.

“Both I guess,” you answer honestly. 

He laughs too, one that reminds you of the days you spent daydreaming about him. It feels almost nostalgic, certainly not the same. If this was a few years ago you might’ve gotten butterflies from just hearing that laugh but now you only feel happy to see him letting his guard down and smiling which is a rare occurrence with him.

“Are you surprised?” you ask.

“Well, yeah,” he says, still with a shyness. “I thought I just went unnoticed in school.”

“Unnoticed? You were without a doubt one of the most popular guys in school.”

He shrugs. “Never felt like it.”

You scoff in amusement. “Yeah, because imagine being the one to receive almost 100 cards on Valentine’s Day every year, not to mention the endless notes in your lockers.”

“Ah,” Lawrence laughs softly. “Okay I see your point.” He glances towards you. “Never got one from you though.”

“I was too shy,” you say, trying to hide the truth a little with a tone of sarcasm. 

“Probably would’ve said yes if it was from you,” he says with a playful smirk.

“Thanks for telling me this late,“ you laugh. “But wait…” You look at him in amusement, having just processed some of what he’s said. “So you’re telling me you had no idea that I had a crush on you in school?!”

Confusion is the first and only emotion you manage to catch on Lawrence’s face, the rest passing in a second. “I had no idea!” he says, half laughing while still in what can only be surprise. “You liked me?” He looks at you and you notice a tinge of pink colouring his cheeks.

“For a long time,” you laugh. “Though I don’t know why, you never paid me much attention until college.”

Lawrence doesn’t skip a beat when answering. “I had to! I’m two years older than you, any attention I wanted to give you throughout school might’ve just caused problems and I didn’t want that for you.”

“Well, how thoughtful of you to not want me to be the subject of stupid rumours, meanwhile I was left to pine over you,” you say somewhat sarcastically but still humourful. “If only I knew that you were being so considerate…” only now do you realise exactly what it is that Lawrence has just said… “Hang on.” You pause, brows creasing as you turn to look at him. “You what?”

Lawrence suddenly hesitates, timidly. “I had a thing for you,” he mumbles after a few seconds.

“You did?”

“Mhm, for a while. It’s always been there… still is.”

Your head is reeling… you could’ve had Lawrence. You still could have Lawrence – he’s telling you as much – but…

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you ask softly, still dumbfounded.

“I wanted to,” he admits with a small smile, just about managing to look at you now. “Your first year of college, but you seemed so carefree and I didn’t wanna be the older guy tying you down. Even though it’s just one year, everyone has fun in first year so I wanted you to have that too.” He purses his lips before releasing a small breath as he looks away. 

“I wouldn’t have cared about that,” you say quietly with a laugh. 

To your relief, Lawrence laughs too, albeit awkwardly. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you shrug.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I tried again in my last year, your third.” He glances at you before shrugging. “I don’t think you cared for it though.”

It’s easy to remember what he’s talking about now — there’s no way you wouldn’t remember all the times Lawrence tried to shoot his shot with you, especially because you could never figure out why you denied it to him and yourself.

Lawrence continues in your moment of silence. “I always thought it was because of Jungkook.”

All the thoughts come to a standstill in your mind… 

“Now I know I was right,” Lawrence says with a wistful smile. 

Is this your answer? The reason you never wanted to pursue Lawrence even after having a crush on him for so long — because of Jungkook? 

It’s even crazier to you that right now, it doesn’t seem so bizarre. 

Jungkook has always felt right. Maybe you do care about him in more ways than you realised, maybe everything Lawrence is saying is true, and maybe everything Alex has been saying for months now is true. There’s obviously a reason you’ve started to feel differently around him, not to mention you’re always finding any and every excuse to be with him.

Lawrence continues, unaware of the thoughts unravelling in your head. “I just wish I’d had the courage to say something sooner, but it’s my fault.” He takes a step closer and the feeling of his hand brushing yours draws you back into this moment. 

Looking up, you meet his gaze to see soft eyes and furrowed brows. 

“Now it’s all out there though,” he says in a voice quiet enough to be a whisper, “I have to know…” 

His eyes search yours and he hesitates for a brief moment before you feel his fingers lace between yours. “It is too late, right?”

note. please interact with all parts and share your thoughts with me! <3 part 2 here

[malfoys-demigod]

Hiii I don’t know if you write these type of things but could you write a fluff where reader and Logan have a baby girl and their planning their birthday party with some of the X-men? Thanks!!

Planning for the baby girl’s 1st birthday party

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Logan Howlett x Reader

A/N: I kinda divided scenes into 2 scenarios and made the baby girl almost 1 year old! I hope that was okay, love! Enjoy!

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Preparations for the Cake:

“Would it be a cliche if we decided on strawberry cake since we’re throwing a birthday party for a baby girl?”

This was an important question asked by Rogue, who tasked herself with baking the cake.

You looked at Logan with an inquisitive look. This first birthday party for your child was sincerely important and as much as you wanted to throw a classic first birthday party, you somehow did not want to turn classic into typical.

“She does make a point, Logan.” You noted, putting a finger on your chin as you started brewing deep thoughts on a question Logan thought didn’t need much pondering.

“Doll, it’s not like she’s gonna remember the taste of her first birthday cake,” he chuckled lightly, hoping you wouldn’t take that comment seriously by any chance.

What he got in return was you, trying your best to pull off a serious look, but the corners of your mouth said something else. “You are definitely not getting any cake! AT ALL!”

Logan took a step closer, playing a better game than you with a better serious look. “Is that right, darl?”

As he was towering over you, unsure of whether to kiss you or just keep making you flustered, Rogue, forgetting about her two parent figures being right in front, made a really, really bad fake cough sound.

“Can’t you two continue that later? In your bedroom? I really need to know what to bake! Don’t you guys want to taste it out before the party?”

“Strawberry’s fine, Marie,” Logan murmured, planting a soft kiss on your forehead and breaking eye contact between the two of you to give a small nod to his daughter figure.

The decorations:

“Oh, aren’t these balloons just the cutest!” You said in awestruck.

Storm and Jean came back from shopping around town, buying all sorts of decorations from balloons, banners, balloons shaped into letters, etc.

They let you and Logan walk around the living room of the mansion alone, strategizing where to place all the newly-bought decorations.

Using your powers, you started floating around the room, drafting placements for the balloons first, placing them around the wall that included the fireplace while Logan was pumping air into the rest of the balloons.

As you placed some tape on the balloons, you heard a loud pop, followed by a loud, “SHIT!”, and… followed by another loud pop and same curse.

You looked down to the ground, seeing Logan standing with agitation on his face. He was looking around the two balloons he popped, now onto you as you flew towards him.

“Logan, hey,” you landed, walking to him, “Are you alright?”

You placed your hands on his face, cupping him with a concerned look on his face.

“Yeah, I think I made the balloons too big and they suddenly popped after that.”

It seemed Logan felt bad about the two wasted balloons. He looked down and muttered a small sorry, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

A small chuckle came out of your mouth, adoring your ‘tough guy’ significant other act so unease about such a small issue. “They were just two balloons, Logan,” you assured him, “How ‘bout I take over pumping out the last balloons for now and you can place the ready ones around, yeah?”

Logan expressed tenderness, smiling at his loved one and planting a short but loving kiss on your lips.

He turned around, picking up the balloons and placing them beside the ones you placed.

Before he could place more, he looked over to you as you were pumping air into the balloons and said, “Hey,” he said, getting your attention, “How’d I get so lucky?”

There was a twinkle in your eye as you heard his question, “You already know my answer, Logan.”

Logan turned around again, now smiling from ear to ear to himself, still unable to process the fact that he got an amazing woman by his side, and now.. an amazing little piece of him and his woman in the form of a dear baby girl.

Whether he was nonchalant about it or not, he’s been dying to throw his baby girl the best birthday party he and his significant other could ever give.

[casuallyimagining]

Set Me Free || myg

min yoongi x female reader

Summary: Tired of being told how to live his life and unsure of where he stands in the world, Yoongi--your soulmate--yearns to be free. When you give him what he wants, it causes a rift in your relationship that seems irreparable. 12 years later, you find him back in your life. Can you mend your relationship? Do you even want to? Word Count: 14,377 Genre: friends to enemies to lovers, supernatural au, witch & familiar au, soulmate au, angst, fluff Warnings: death of a parent (brief mention), alcohol, soulmate breakup, smooching

Notes: banner by @itaeewon. thank you to @daechwitatamic and @oddinary4bts for beta-ing and listening to me struggle my way through this. as always. and extra thanks to ella for helping me write Yoongi's letters and to my friend tanya for giving me a super helpful base for the ending.

It’s cold. The late autumn wind rustles through amber-brown-orange-yellow leaves, swirling the fallen ones into little tornadoes that scuttle across the pavement. The cold doesn’t bother Yoongi, necessarily. It’s been a while since he’s been here, in this town, on this street, but even after so much time, his body remembers the chill of November in the same way his feet remember the way to his destination. He shoves his hands deep into his pockets and pauses at the street corner.

It’s strange being back here. He’d once known this neighborhood so intimately, he could map it in his sleep. Not much has changed in the almost 13 years he’s been gone. The park on the corner is the same. The playground, massive to an eight-year-old with a near-infinite imagination, stands resolute, its plastic and paint sun-faded and weathered. Further up the block is the head of the trail that snakes its way through the forest, where he’d spent countless hours playing pirates as a kid and exploring as a teen. And there, at the end of the street, is his destination.

The closer he gets, the more his stomach roils with nerves. Thirteen years since he’d walked down this sidewalk. Thirteen years since he’d walked onto that front porch. Or rather, 12 years, 5 months, and 11 days. 

But who’s counting?

There’s a light on in the front room of the house, he can see it through the big window despite the shades being pulled closed. He hesitates. He’s spent days–no, weeks–playing out in his head how this was going to go. In a moment, he’ll know if any of those scenarios were correct. And frankly, right now, he’s terrified. 

What if you start to cry? What if you slam the door in his face? What if you hug him? What if you yell at him? What if you don’t answer? What if you want to talk? What if you never want to see him again? What if you invite him in? What if you have someone over?

He takes a deep breath and knocks.

It takes a second. He can hear shuffling around on the other side of the door, so he knows his knock was heard. But the longer it takes, the sweatier his hands get, and the more he considers turning and running away. The door opens before he can make a move.

You stand in the doorway, bathed in the warm light of the living room lamp behind you. And shit, Yoongi doesn’t know what to say. In many ways, you haven’t changed since the last time he saw you, but at the same time, you look so different. He can see in your eyes the moment the realization hits, and your expression changes drastically. You looked tired–and Yoongi can sense that it goes deeper than just physical exhaustion–and you were slouching, but now, you’re standing ramrod straight, and there’s a hard look in your eyes. One he knows all too well.

“Hey.” He raises a hand, offers a wave that, in hindsight, is rather pathetic. You stare at him, unblinking, and slowly, he lowers his hand. “I uh… I heard about your parents,” he says softly, scuffing his shoe against the wood of the porch. “I’m sorry you have to go through it.”

“Brave of you to show up.” You sound almost bored, but Yoongi knows–he senses, in that kind of primal, gut feeling he gets when it comes to you–that it’s an act. “You know I could turn you into a bug and squash you if I wanted to.”

“I know.”

There’s a tense moment where you stare at each other, the scowl you wear pulling your lips downward and creasing your brow. But then you heave an exhausted sigh.

“Why are you here, Yoongi?”

“I…” 

I want to apologize. 

I’m so sorry.

I miss you.

It all catches in his throat. He coughs in a meager attempt to entice something–anything–to come out of his mouth. “I wanted you to have this.”

He holds out his hands, and in an instant, he’s holding a box. It’s full but not heavy, and he thrusts it out in front of him in your direction.

“A 10-year-old shoebox?” You do nothing to mask your surprise. 

“Letters,” he corrects. “You don’t have to read them but… I wanted you to have them.” He pushes the box into your arms, leaving you no choice but to take it. Then, he steps away and nods his head. “Thank you for not turning me into a bug. I am sorry about your parents. I… guess I’ll go.”

Without another word, he trots down the porch steps. And then, in a blink, he’s gone. Disappeared into the night.

You sigh and shut the door, the box he’d given you cradled in the crook of your arm. You don’t have the energy for this right now. Honestly, you aren’t sure that you’ll ever have the energy for it, but certainly not the day before your parents’ funeral.

Whoever had decided that witches and their familiars die together clearly never thought of the ones left behind.

You collapse onto the couch, placing the box beside you. This would be easier if you weren’t alone. It would be easier with Yoongi, your brain supplies less than helpfully. You curse yourself. You curse him. After all these years, you thought you were over it, over the abandonment, over the betrayal. But all it takes is for him to show his stupid face, and you can feel it all bubbling up anew. Angrily, you push the box off the couch. It explodes when it hits the floor, what seems like thousands of pieces of paper tumble out and scatter from the force.

The forest was almost silent as you stalked the trail. Not even the birds were happy that day. Twigs snapped under your feet. You weren’t even paying attention to where you were going, your feet carrying you along the path that you’d hiked countless times before. You needed to get away, to escape, to calm down. But you couldn’t, because what you were running away from was hot on your heels.

“Would you slow down?” You could hear the frustration in Yoongi’s voice as he followed you. You ignored him. “Goddamnit,” he breathed, picking up his pace. “Will you at least listen to me?”

Quite frankly, you didn’t care what he had to say in that moment.

“It wouldn’t be a permanent thing,” he continued. “I just… I don’t know. I need to do this.”

You stopped, sliding a little on the damp new growth below your feet. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re not being oppressed, Yoongi. No one’s stopping you from going out and exploring the world.”

“Maybe this way of life isn’t for everyone. Maybe not everyone wants their whole existence to be predetermined at birth. Maybe not everyone wants the universe to choose who they’re supposed to be with and how they’re supposed to live.”

His words stung, and until then, you weren’t quite sure why. Rejection. Not just of how you lived, and who he was, and how things had always been. But of you. Yoongi was your familiar, you were destined to be together in some way since you were six years old and the bond gem first appeared. Not all witches and familiars were in romantic relationships–your parents were, sure, and Yoongi’s parents–but plenty of them had other partners, lives separate from each other. Platonic soulmates navigating the world together.

Until a few months before, you’d been content with that. There was no doubt you’d been best friends from the jump. You’d been practically inseparable through school. Then, months before, he’d kissed you at the winter market. Right there in the park, under the aurora. Before that, you hadn’t thought of him as any more than your best friend. But the kiss had unlocked something inside you. And now…

Now he wanted you gone. 

“You want to be free that badly?” By some miracle, your voice sounded positively venomous, even though you felt like you could crumble at any moment. “Fine.”

“Wh-”

There’s a saying your mother told you once, back when you were a child. You and Yoongi had found a turtle in the woods, stuck in the mud. His little turtle leg had been hurt, and you’d rushed it to your mother immediately. Familiars were excellent with animals, and she was no exception, healing the turtle in days when it should have taken weeks. You and Yoongi had both cried when you had to release it back into the wild–you’d both so wanted it to be your friend. ‘If you love something, set it free,’ your mother had said, ‘Sometimes it’s the kindest option.’

Kinder for whom?

The chain around your wrist snapped easily when you wrapped your fingers around it. The incantation meant to keep the bond gem safe became meaningless as soon as you wanted it gone. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been without it around your wrist. You loved it, with its gem of swirling, inky black and navy blue. It reminded you so much of Yoongi, deep and calm and unwavering. 

Without a word, you tossed the bracelet to the ground. Yoongi’s eyes widened as it hit and the gem cracked. For good measure, you stepped on it, crushed it into dust. There was a pitiful swirl of blue magic that puffed up from the dirt. When you moved your foot, there was nothing left of the bond gem or its chain.

“What the fuck?” Yoongi’s eyes were glassy when you finally looked at him. He looked almost as crushed as you felt. “What the fuck?”

“You’re free.” And this time, you couldn’t hide your sadness behind your anger. 

He didn’t follow you as you walked away, and honestly, it was for the best. It was faint, but you could still feel his emotions, and you weren’t sure you could handle that kind of heartache in person.

There is paper everywhere. Hundreds of pieces, folded neatly in thirds. You have no idea how Yoongi had fit them all into the shoebox. He must’ve enchanted it. Groaning, you start to pick them up. 

Letters, he’d said. You flip through some as you gather them up. Now that they’re on the floor, they aren’t in any particular order, but it quickly becomes clear that these letters span years. There are some from 12 years ago, written shortly after he’d left. Some are more recent. You stare at one, from December of the year he left. Glancing through it, you expect it to unearth your anger, your rage. But it doesn’t. Just like seeing him again, all Yoongi’s letter brings is sadness. Grief.

You’d spent the past 12 years grieving. Sure, he hadn’t died, but when he left, you’d lost the closest relationship you would ever have. In 17 years, you’d grown so accustomed to having him there, that when he was gone, there was a Yoongi-sized hole left in your life that you had to learn to fill. And you did your best, sewing yourself back together and moving on. But it wasn’t the same.

Glancing through his letter, it seems you weren’t the only one struggling. You aren’t sure if that’s a comfort or not.

It’s been almost a year since the night market–one year since everything started crumbling around us. I still remember it like it was yesterday. It felt right in the moment, didn’t it? I really thought you would understand.

I’ve tried to figure out where things went wrong. But shit, I can’t wrap my head around it. Why did you react like that when I told you I just wanted to be free?

At the end of the day, I guess we didn’t understand each other as much as I thought we did. As much as this bond brings us together, I guess it doesn’t reveal everything. But… that night I just wanted to kiss you, and so I did. Maybe it was selfish. Sometimes I wish the bond didn’t exist, that we could just be free to choose things for ourselves. That we weren't forced into what the universe wants from us… Maybe that’s selfish, too.

Why couldn’t you understand? I just wish I could turn back time and make you understand. Maybe then you wouldn’t hate me, and maybe then I’d stop hating myself too.

Because watching you destroy the gem nearly killed me, but it wasn’t half as bad as watching you walk away. Should I have run after you? 

Would you still be there if I had?

You sigh and lean back against your couch. That damn night market. You hadn’t been back to it since the year he’d kissed you. It’s silly, but a part of you blames it for everything that happened. Because Yoongi’s letter is right. It had marked the beginning of everything going wrong. It wouldn’t change anything, but there’s a part of you that won’t listen to logic, that refuses to believe that maybe, if he hadn’t kissed you–if you hadn’t kissed him back–he wouldn’t have left. 

The night market was beautiful. It always was, but that year was particularly beautiful. The park had been decorated in all of its sparkling, winter glory. Candles twinkled in the trees, suspended by sheer force of will. Through some magic you weren’t familiar with, they’d enchanted the sky, and an aurora shimmered far above, slowly swirling in greens and blues and purples. Snow fell gently, and you weren’t sure if it was natural, or if it was also magic. 

You browsed the various tents and tables, going from one to the other to see the different things people were selling. Some had crafts, others baked goods, and some were even selling things like potion ingredients and spellbooks. There were a few tables dedicated to familiars–books on shifting and specialty items and insets and jewelry for bond gems.

Yoongi followed you closely, clutching a hot chocolate. You knew he wasn’t cold, the temperature was nowhere near low enough for either of you to be uncomfortable, but the way his fingers tapped against the paper cup, you knew something was up. You could sense his anxiety, could feel it in the pit of your own stomach.

“Want to go sit?” you asked softly, gesturing over to the picnic tables they’d set up under one of the sparkling trees. 

His eyes widened. “No, that’s okay. You’re looking.”

“I’m done. Let’s go sit.”

“I-” He deflated a little and didn’t argue further, allowing you to lead him over to one of the tables. 

You sat side by side on the bench, backs against the table, and watched the snow fall around you. The night was peaceful, quiet for the most part except for the occasional laughter that bubbled up. Most of the older crowd had left, leaving only the teens and young adults to explore the market. You watched the other festival goers in silence, Yoongi’s arm pressed against your own.

“You okay?” you asked softly, bumping your shoulder into his own.

Yoongi being quiet was nothing new. He was an observer, a listener, he took in information like a sponge. Which wasn’t to say that he was never loud and boisterous, that he didn’t talk incessantly to the people he cared about. But he was absolutely the calmest presence you’d ever been around, even compared to the adults in your life.

But you could sense what he was feeling, could feel his nerves and unease and conflict. And you knew that he’d rather explode than burden anyone with his feelings. So you prodded. Ever so gently. Because he was your best friend, and when he was suffering, you were too. 

He stayed quiet, and when you turned to look at him, he was much closer than you were expecting. A moment passed. You shared a look. You’d always thought that Yoongi’s eyes were pretty, but in the twinkling light of the candles above, they were deep pools of warm, dark cedar and flecks of honey. Slowly, subtly, he leaned in–or maybe you did, you weren’t sure– as though some mysterious force was drawing you together. An emotion flashed in his eyes, but you couldn’t quite take the time to consider what it may have been because he was kissing you. Lips chapped from the bitter wind moulded against your own for the shortest of moments. It was tentative and delicate and brief, but as he pulled away, your mind reeled. 

That day had affected you in ways you never would have expected. Before, you’d never considered Yoongi as anything more than your best friend, the platonic other half of yourself. And then the kiss, and suddenly, it was like you’d been awakened. For as long as you could remember, your thoughts had been filled with Yoongi. Of the things he liked, the things he didn’t, of spending time with him, of the academy (with him). Suddenly, you were suspecting that maybe there was more to that, more than just the bond of a witch and their familiar.

You sigh. The letters are all finally back in the box, though nowhere near as nicely as they’d been before you’d kicked it and it had exploded. You should get up. You should go to bed. You have to be up fairly early for the funeral. But you stay seated, the box of letters in your lap.

Seeing him again was hard. You’re willing to admit that. You’d spent 12 years convincing yourself that you were fine, harboring anger and resentment and frustration, all for it to melt away the second you saw him. The bond makes it tough to stay mad at him, but it doesn’t let you forget the betrayal.

You stand out of the way, looking out over the funeral attendees in the park. Your parents didn’t have a lot of friends, but there are enough people here that you’d officially call it a crowd. They’re all mingling–you’d bought beer and wine, and if you didn’t know any better, it could maybe be a party and not a wake. You tighten your fist around the bond gem in your hand. For as long as you could remember, your dad had worn it around his neck, tucked under his shirt. The gem is like your mother–bright pink, fiery orange, deep yellow–and when you were a child, you’d loved to look at it, mesmerized by the swirling, glittering colors. 

The gems have always been a gift from a familiar to their witch, given to symbolize the soulmate-like bonds between them. Most witches–especially those who were romantically involved with their familiars–wear them as jewelry. They don’t really do anything, though some people claim it made their magic stronger (you aren’t really sure about that, seeing as most gems appear in childhood).

As a child, you hadn’t been particularly close with your parents. Especially as a teen, you would have much rather hung out with Yoongi than them. But they were kind, and supportive, and for the most part, they left you to do your own thing. They’d been almost as devastated as you when you’d crushed your bond gem.

Days after your fight with Yoongi, the doorbell rang. Your mother had opened the door. You were upstairs. You’d stayed home from school that day–sick, but not in the way the administrators would have accepted. For a few brief moments, you’d ignored whatever visitor was downstairs. But then-

“She’s not here.” Your mother’s voice drifted up to you. She sounded disappointed.

“Please.” It was Yoongi, you’d recognize his baritone from miles away.

Quietly, you’d slipped out of your room and crept down the hall, sitting at the top of the stairs. You could hear your mother sigh, could see her shift her weight from one foot to the other. Your father appeared from the kitchen and joined your mother at the door.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” he said, shaking his head. He leaned against the doorknob, pulling it a little more shut in the process so it blocked you completely from the door’s sight.

A long moment of silence passed before your mother called, “Yoongi?” You couldn’t hear his response–he must have already gone down the porch steps. Your mother continued, “It can be scary, and you’re both still young. Give it time.”

The door shut quietly, and both of your parents looked to where you were sitting. You could see it in both of their eyes. Sadness, but something else. Something that looked a little close to pity.

A laugh draws your attention, and you smile sadly as you watch your mother’s coworkers laugh at some memory. But then you notice, just behind them, a shadow close to the ground and suddenly, you’re distracted all over again. Because there, half-hidden by a bush, sits a black cat. Cedar and honey eyes watch you intently, its dark fur swirling and shining like a thousand galaxies. Your hand tightens around your parents’ bond gem, the chain pressing sharply into the flesh of your hand.

He doesn’t move, just sits there patiently. Watching. He’s there as people approach you, offering condolences and hugs that you don’t particularly want; he’s there when people start trickling out. And he’s there when you’re the last one left, all alone under the large oak tree in the center of the park. 

It’s quiet as you stand there, staring down at the bond gem in your hands. This is the part you’ve been dreading. Because you don’t want to keep the damn thing–you could if you wanted to, but there’s also tradition to think about. But it’s also weird to give up the one thing that is so emblematic of your parents. You wonder if they’d felt like this when your grandparents had died. 

At least they’d had each other during it.

You can sense him approach, even though his steps are completely silent. And though he comes closer, he keeps his distance. On one hand, you appreciate it. On the other…

“If you’re going to be here, the least you could do is be here,” you say quietly, looking down at the gem in your hand. It sparkles a little in the light.

Thankfully, he doesn’t ask you to explain. He takes a few slow steps forward until he’s standing beside you. It’s weird, having him this close again. You’d been too overwhelmed last night to actually observe, but now, you’re exhausted, yet alert. 

His hair is longer–as a teen, he’d kept it short, but the ends curl and sit just above his shoulders now. He’s filled out and put on some muscle, and though he’s still a little on the lankier side, his shoulders have broadened. He wears cologne now, the scent light, like lavender, citrus, and sage. So much has changed, and yet it’s the same eyes that watch you with a soft curiosity.

You look up to the tree, watch its branches wave in the wind. You used to think that the centenarian boughs touched the sky, and even still, it towers above everything else in the park. The leaves sparkle, their iridescence catching the light to make the tree look like something out of a fairy tale. You sigh and tighten your fist around your parents’ bond gem one more time before opening your hand.

At first, nothing happens, but then the gem glistens and rises out of your grasp. It joins the other leaves close to the top of the tree, becoming just another sparkle in the prism. 

For a while, not even the birds make a noise. You just stand there, looking up at the tree that has stood sentinel over most of your life. The wind rustles the leaves, and they shimmer as they move. You have no idea how many leaves are up there, how many bond gems have been placed over time. Thousands–maybe hundreds of thousands–of witches and their familiars, most forgotten to the annals of time.

It’s strange, knowing that you would never be memorialized by the tree.

“Let me buy you a coffee,” Yoongi whispers from beside you, husky baritone cutting through the silence.

Yoongi isn’t sure why you say yes, but soon enough, you’re walking into the Green Bean just behind him. He’s uncomfortable, people have been watching you since the park, and their stares are starting to burn holes in his back. He says nothing about it until you’re in line at the cafe.

“What are they staring at?” he whispers, leaning close so that only you can hear in the semi-busy cafe. He chooses to ignore how you tense up ever so slightly.

“You’ve been gone for 12 years, what did you expect?”

Right. He supposes he should have expected their animosity. But it’s not just him they’re watching. He doesn’t miss the way people stare at you, watch you warily as you simply exist. His mind races. Was that his fault? Did his absence cause so many unintended consequences?

You order a coffee and choose a table in the far corner of the cafe, away from everyone but still near the window. He sits in the chair across from you, the hard metal shockingly comfortable despite its harsh lines. An awkward silence settles over you both, but Yoongi’s not sure what to say, so he lets it linger. He watches you stare out the window. Which is a little weird, right? But he can’t bring himself to drag his gaze away. It’s like after 12 years of being away, he just wants to look at you.

The barista calls out your orders and Yoongi stands to grab both of them from the counter. He places one oversized ceramic mug down in front of you, and the other, he wraps his hands around. It’s warm, almost hot, and he dares not take a drink yet. You stare down at the foam on top of your drink, one finger hooked around the handle of the cup.

“What happened to them?” he asks softly. When you look up, surprised, he clarifies. “Your parents, I mean. I… didn’t hear how they…”

You sigh, tap your mug. He can sense the deep sadness you struggle with and is just about to tell you to forget he asked when you speak. “I always kind of thought it would be dad who’d go first.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. “He was always so frail when we were kids. But mom got sick last year and…” You shrug. “One of the neighbors found them.”

“I’m so sorry.” You wave him off. “No. Honestly. They were nice.”

“Thanks.”

He nods, and silence settles again. But then something you said pops into his mind, striking him as strange. “You aren’t living here anymore?” Mentally, he slaps himself. Why did it come out like he’s surprised? He supposes that he’s always just kind of pictured you still… here, in town.

“I’m over in Ashland,” you say, generally gesturing west, toward the city. “I work at the library at the university.”

“Yeah?” He raises his eyebrows. “How’s that?”

You shrug. “Mostly good. It’s a job. The library’s usually pretty quiet, so…”

“That’s really cool.”

Ashland is big, much bigger than here in square feet and at least 10 times the people. It’s a real city, with skyscrapers and functioning public transportation and one of the country’s top medical universities. He’s proud of you, he realizes. You’d always planned to leave for the city, too constrained by life in such a small town. For the longest time, he’d planned on going with you. And then, of course, he’d ruined it. It stings a little to know that you’d gone without him like that, that your life had continued as planned, that maybe he hadn’t meant that much in the grand scheme of things.

But then your eyes meet, and he’s confronted by the anxiety and sadness you’re feeling, and he knows he’s just being stupid. Again.

“So, uh…” He feels a wave of nerves wash over him–they aren’t his own. You tap your half-empty mug. “What have you been up to?”

If he’s honest, Yoongi wasn’t expecting you to ask about him. He’s shocked enough that you’d even agreed to be here, let alone that you were interested in his life. “I was traveling,” he starts cautiously, gauging your reaction. You blink slowly, watching his every move. If you can sense his apprehension, you don’t react. “But now I’m up north in Ulmae. I’ve got a pretty good thing going at this restaurant on the North Shore.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, uh…” He chuckles, a little nervous. “They’ve got me bartending on the weekends and let me do music during the week.”

Your eyes widen a little, and you lean forward. “They let you play?”

“It’s only like an hour a night-”

“No, shut up. That’s amazing!” You grin, big and genuine, but Yoongi can sense a tinge of sadness in it. 

He’s disappointed when you both finish your coffees and you stand up to put your cup in the little tub by the counter. It’s starting to get late, the sun is starting to set and the streetlights have turned on. It was nice, catching up with you, short though it may have been. It’s not lost on him how strange it is, having to catch up with someone that was once practically a part of him. 

Together, you stand outside in the chilly early evening air, looking down the street toward the park. Over the roofs of the shops and houses, Yoongi can just barely see the centinel tree with its sparkling leaves. People walk past–people he recognizes but couldn’t possibly name–some are more subtle about it, but others practically break their necks to stare at the two of you. Suddenly, Yoongi feels exposed outside the cafe, like there are eyes everywhere. He hates this, hates feeling like he’s doing something wrong just for wanting to talk to you more.

You sigh, scuff your shoe against the concrete of the sidewalk, shove your hands deep into the pockets of your dark jeans. “I… probably shouldn’t even ask,” you start warily. “But do you want to come back for a drink?”

The house is the same, yet somehow also different, like one of those spot the difference puzzles come to life. The layout of the living room is the same, but the couch is a different style and color. There’s a blanket folded the same way under the coffee table, but it’s clearly a different pattern than he remembers. Most of the photos are the same, but there are 12 years’ worth of more of them. 

Apparently, the stash of alcohol your father kept in the built in cabinet beside the television hasn’t changed.

You pull out a bottle of whisky and two glasses, setting them on the coffee table with a gentle ‘clink.” The shoebox he’d given you sits on the floor. The lid is off, the letters contained within are a mess. Have you read them, or did they spill out? There’s no way for him to really know. 

Silently, you hand him a glass and sit on the other side of the couch, grabbing one of the throw pillows to hug in your lap. You sip at the double in your glass stoically, and for a moment, you stare at him. He has to resist the urge to squirm under your gaze. There’s something different about how you’re sitting, something in your aura that he didn’t notice in the cafe. Maybe you’d been saving it for private, but he can sense that you’re reining your emotions in. 

But then finally, after what feels like an eternity, you turn over your hand. Two pieces of paper sit in your palm. “I’m going to need you to explain these.” The two letters float over to him and open themselves in front of him.

The first is dated only a few years after he’d left.

I’ve been struck by a thought. I had tacos earlier, and I just know you would have loved them. Which made me realize that there’s still part of me that thinks about you at every turn. Your friendship was such an integral part of my life, and not having it anymore feels like there’s a piece missing. Last week it was a song on the radio. Before that, a stray cat I saw that I know for certain you would have loved. Everything reminds me of you, everything leads back to you. You’re everywhere and nowhere, and…

I would like to see you again. Someday. 

How have you been doing? Where has your life taken you? I can only hope it’s treated you kindly. It’s what you deserve.

The other is from the day he turned 25.

A quarter of a century, and for some reason I feel incredibly old. With it comes some realizations, things I didn’t understand before. Maybe I was too young, too blinded by my own need to feel free… but it never was about being free from you. I can’t even begin to imagine how hurtful it must have been for you…

I never wanted to make you feel like I was giving up on you, like I didn’t want you. I never wanted to make you feel rejected, because it wasn’t you I was trying to be free from.

I was so scared of having my whole life laid out in front of me. I never took the time to think what my life could be with the bond–I only ever thought about what the bond meant for my life. All of the expectations, what comes with being a familiar, our roles in society and the universe…

I realize now that I could have–should have–communicated it all better. If only so that I wouldn’t have lost you. So that it wouldn’t have led to me making you feel like I was rejecting you. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered; at the end of the day I was still walking away from you. But at least maybe I could have made it more clear that it was never you that I wanted to be free from.

I’m sorry. I feel like it’s useless to say, but I am so sorry for not realizing any of this before.

Wherever you are, I hope you’ll understand. Take care until I see you again.

I hope I see you again.

Yoongi sighs. The letters–all of them, not just these two–tended to be rambling diatribes, a snapshot of his thoughts as he worked through his feelings about his own life and everything and you. He’d been an idiot when he left–he was 17 and full of himself and terrified of the world but too proud to admit it–and it had taken him far too long to realize a lot of important things.

For a moment, it’s quiet as he thinks of what to say. How should he even begin? But apparently, he’s quiet for too long, because you wave your hand and the letters fold themselves back up and float back down to the shoebox. When you speak, you sound exhausted. “Why are you here, Yoongi?”

“I-”

“Because if the roles were reversed, I don’t know that I’d have the balls to come back. On one hand, I’m impressed. On the other…” You trail off and shrug.

He’s quiet, not sure how to respond. He’s got lots of thoughts, lots of feelings–of course he does–but right now, you’re a wall, and he’s not sure how to read the situation. He’s not sure what you need to hear right now. So he says nothing.

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it, and you look down at the glass in your hand, stare into the dregs of the amber whisky you’ve nearly finished. “I’m running on like two hours’ sleep,” you admit. “But fuck, Yoongi, I… I was so convinced that I’d never see you again. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.” Then, softer. “I’m still not sure.”

“Why?” It’s out of his mouth before he can even think and god, he just wants the Earth to open up and swallow him whole.

It takes a second for you to process his absolute trash heap of an asinine question. But when you do, your face contorts into somewhere between anger, disappointment, and heartbreak. “What do you mean, ‘why’?” You practically spit the question at him. “You… you… Do you know what it’s like to have the most important person in your life tell you that he wants rid of you?”

“I never said-”

“You wanted to be free. From all of it. From me.” You pick at the corner of the pillow in your lap. “And then you just come back out of the blue like nothing happened and drop this damn shoebox at my feet-” from where it sits on the floor, the shoebox explodes, letters flying everywhere, “-and you just… What did you expect, Yoongi? What do you want?”

“I don’t know!” He sounds a little desperate when he says it, and he hates that, hates how pathetic it makes him sound. So he shrugs, takes a deep breath, leans back a little. “I don’t know,” he repeats. “I just… I missed you. And then mom told me about your parents, and…” He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead and out of his eyes. “And then I was on a train.”

You stare at him for a moment, a little gobsmacked. You have no idea how to respond. What do you say to that? Where do you even start? There are a hundred things you could say. You’ve played this scenario out a thousand times in your head over the years–what would you do if he came back?–but somehow, it never played out like this. In your mind, he’d never told you that he missed you.

You’d never considered that he would miss you.

But you should say something, right? It’s weird that you’re sitting there, just staring at him in complete silence. Has your jaw been clenched the whole time? Does he think you’re angry with him? Quickly, you school your face into something a little more neutral and say the first thing that comes to mind.

“How long are you here for?”

Truthfully, you probably should have asked sooner. You’ve been wondering since he showed up on your doorstep last night, but it never seemed like a great time to ask.

He sighs. “‘Till tomorrow.”

You nod, probably longer than it makes sense to, but it takes you a bit to process. Tomorrow. He’s back in your life for two days, and then he’s gone again. That’s not even enough time to catch up, let alone actually talk with him. And that’s… you aren’t sure how to feel. 

Yoongi watches you quietly and takes a sip of his drink. He’s barely touched it. “Maybe…” he says after a moment, leaning forward to put his glass on the coffee table. “Maybe I should go?”

Part of you wants to tell him no, to ask him to stay, to tell you more about his gig working at the bar. Anything to keep him here and talking to you. But there’s a more logical part of you that’s overwhelmed, that needs some time to think. He’s offering to go, which means that he’s either uncomfortable or his train leaves early in the morning. Or both. He stands, thanks you for the drink, and you follow him to the door. He hesitates just outside, opens his mouth as if to say something and closes it almost as quickly.

You say nothing. And for the second time in as many days, you watch him leave without another word.

The playground was almost empty. Mama said it was supposed to rain, but she’d also said that you would go anyway, for a little bit. You were trying to learn how to swing on your own, and plus Yoongi and his mom were going to be there, and he’d said he’d bring his trucks to play in the sand. 

But he wasn’t there yet, so you were on the swing. Mama pushed you, her hand firm on your back, and you closed your eyes. You were flying, wind in your face as you launched forward into the air. And then, just as suddenly, you were falling, swinging backward.

“Remember what I said,” mama said softly. “Kick your legs.”

You weren’t quite sure what she meant by that. Your legs were little, and when you kicked out, you felt more like you were going to slide out of the swing seat than anything. You heard her laugh a little, but her hand was on your back once again, propelling you forward. 

A few minutes passed in a blur of forwards and backwards. You still didn’t quite understand the whole swinging on your own thing, but mama’s rhythmic pushes kept you going. But then, a small voice at the edge of the playground yelled your name, and you heard excited footsteps in the wood chips. Mama helped you slow to a stop, and you jumped off the swing.

A little boy, his dark hair cut short by his own mom, ran toward you. He was carrying an armful of small cars and larger trucks. He skidded to a stop in front of you, a wide, gummy grin engulfing his face and crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“I brought all my trucks!” he announced, looking down at the toys in his arms. “You can be the green one. Here.” He tried to hand it to you, and another fell in the process.

You picked it up and took the green truck from him. It was bright green–the same shade as the lime popsicles Yoongi’s mom usually bought–and it had big wheels. You followed him to the sandbox and you both plopped down. It didn’t take long to have a whole city constructed. Granted, it was all made from rocks and wood chips and other small things you found around the sandbox. But it was a city and it was beautiful.

Yoongi drove his truck over a bump, making engine noises as he pushed it toward you. As he drove the truck down another sand hill, bumping and bouncing it over sticks and rocks, something fell out of the sleeve of his jacket. It was perfectly round, and it rolled to a stop in front of you. You picked it up and inspected it. It was some kind of rock, hard and shiny, but it was also colorful, and you were pretty sure rocks couldn’t be blue. 

One look at the rock and he frowned, calling for his mom. She came over immediately and crouched down to see what he was so concerned about. Your mama followed her, and she was the one that saw the rock in your hand first.

“Oh,” she said, her hand gently smoothing down your hair. “You two have found your gem.”

“Wha’s that mean?” Yoongi asked, looking up at his mom. 

She smiled and sat in the sand beside him, pulling him into her lap. She held out her arm, twisted her bracelet around so that he could see it. “You know how I have this from your dad? It’s like that.”

“But-”

“Your friendship is special,” she continued, pinching his cheek. Yoongi laughed. “It means you’ve gotta look out for each other now.”

For a moment, he was quiet. But then he nodded, just once. “Okay!” He held out his hand to you, tiny palm face up. “Can I have it?”

“It’s not yours anymore,” his mom said softly, brushing his short hair back. “It’s a gift.”

You looked to your mama and she nodded. “Take care of it,” she told you. “You only get one.”

Middle school was the worst. Everything was difficult. Social situations, interactions with your parents, school. At the time, it all seemed like it was unfairly hard. Making it worse, of course, was getting sick. As a kid, you were never sick that often. Yoongi was a different story. For whatever reason, familiars were just more susceptible to illness, and when he got sick, he got sick. 

It was the middle of the semester, and Yoongi hadn’t been to school in days. Your teachers hadn’t even asked, they’d just started giving you packets–homework and printouts of their lessons and extra materials–so he wouldn’t fall behind. So you stopped by his house after school. His mom let you in, offering you some of the snacks she was making for Yoongi before you headed up the stairs to his room. 

You knocked gently before entering. The knock was a politeness–you were close enough with him and familiar enough with his room at this point in your life that you could just barge in without warning and you knew he wouldn’t mind. He looked like hell, stuck in his bed buried in blankets. It was clear he’d had a fever at some point, because his hair looked damp and sweaty. 

But he sat up when you walked in, coughing deeply before speaking. “You’re going to get sick, too,” he protested weakly. 

You waved him off. “Everyone’s sick.” You pulled over his desk chair to the side of his bed and started to go through your bag. “Ms. Miller gave me your math homework, but if you understand it, you’ll have to explain it to me because I have no idea what she’s talking about.” He giggled at that, gummy smile soon hidden by his hand as he coughed. “Here’s the novel for Brown’s class. She said she’d talk to you about making up the paper when you’re back.”

It took a surprisingly long time to go through eight classes’ worth of homework and assignments, but you’d put sticky notes at the front of each packet explaining things, too, so the fact that he was half-asleep for most of your explanation didn’t really matter. 

“Will you stay?” he asked when you were done. “Help me with some of this?”

“What happened to not wanting me to get sick?” you teased.

“I mean, you don’t have to. If you want to go home, that’s fine, too. I just-” He coughed, burying his face in his blankets. 

“You staying for dinner, hon?” Yoongi’s mom called from the bottom of the stairs.

“Yes please!” you responded, shuffling through the stack of packets you’d brought for Yoongi. “Wanna take a stab at math?”

Halfway through the fall of your senior year, Yoongi started to get… weird. Cagey. Like he was trying to hide something and figure out particle physics at the same time. You’d tried asking him about it a few times, only for him to wave you off with a quiet “just thinking about some things.” After that, he’d be back to normal for a few days. But every time, like clockwork, he would fall back into it.

Finally, on the third day of the new year, he pulled you aside. Tucked back into the dormant foliage of the park, away from prying eyes, he stood, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He was nervous, you could feel it deep inside you, but to be honest, you didn’t really need your bond to tell you what was plain to see. 

“I…” He trailed off, unsure of how to continue. His brows furrowed in thought, and after a moment, he motioned for you to sit. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay?” You sat on the edge of a big rock, confused.

“I…” he started again, sitting beside you. You could feel a spike of nerves, and he took a breath to steady himself. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I think… fuck, this is harder than I thought it would be.”

“You can just say it,” you told him. “It’s just me.”

He nodded and mumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘that’s the problem,’ but after a moment, he continued. “I need to be free of all of this.”

“What?”

“Haven’t you ever thought that maybe the universe doesn’t know what it’s talking about? That maybe you’d be happier if you chose things for yourself?” He frowned. “There’s rules for gifts. We’re only good at certain types of magic because of how we were born. We have to celebrate holidays certain ways, we have to do specific things on our birthdays-”

“-and we get told who we’re to bond to.”

He recoiled at your words. “That’s not-”

“But it’s true, right?” Your gaze fell from him to your hands. “It’s just one more thing you don’t get to control.”

Yoongi sighed. “I just… want to be able to choose for myself.”

Suddenly, you were sick to your stomach. This was the last thing you’d expected. You didn’t particularly like all of the traditions, either, but you were 17. What the hell were you going to do about it? But this felt like he was saying he didn’t want you. You hadn’t yet talked about the kiss at the night market a few weeks prior, but you’d never guessed that he’d do such a sudden about-face. 

“Right,” you said softly.

“Just… think about it?” he asked, dark eyes pleading. 

You didn’t like where this was going, didn’t like how it made you feel. But you nodded anyway. Maybe he would change his mind.

Days gave way to weeks and months, and before you knew it, spring had come. Yoongi hadn’t changed his mind. If anything, he’d gotten more insistent. 

“I want to find myself,” he’d told you once. “I need to make sure this is how I want to live my life.”

“I just need to get away,” he’d said one day while you were doing homework together. “Start fresh somewhere new.”

And then, on the way home from school one day, he’d said, “I need to be free of it all.” 

And you’d snapped. Three months of hearing him talk about it, three months of him basically saying that your entire way of life was wrong and that he was chafing to get away. You couldn’t help it.

“Fuck off,” you’d told him, taking the trail behind the houses at a faster pace. Despite being so attuned with nature thanks to his familiar genes, he’d had trouble keeping up with you.

“Would you slow down?” You could hear the frustration in Yoongi’s voice as he followed you. You ignored him. “Goddamnit,” he breathed, picking up his pace. “Will you at least listen to me?”

He’d pushed. And eventually, you’d given in. Because despite everything, you’d loved him, and if he was unhappy, you wanted to fix that. And now…

Now you’re sitting alone at the train station at ass o’clock in the morning. The train station has just barely opened, and already you’re inside, clutching a cup of coffee. There are a few other people here, milling around, waiting for their early trains to god knows where. You can feel them watching you, can feel them trying to make it subtle that they’re staring. At this point, you’re used to it. Word travels fast in small towns, especially when that word is as earth-shattering as a broken bond gem and a falling out between a witch and their familiar. 

You try to ignore them, focus on your coffee and the posters across the waiting area from you. 

Report any unattended or suspicious luggage to National Rail personnel.

Bags larger than this poster must be checked into the train’s luggage car.

Please remain seated until your train is announced and National Rail personnel give authorization to enter the platform.

You scroll through the news on your phone. Read the posters again. Stare out the window at the coffee shop across the street. And wait. A train arrives, and the couple that had been staring at you leaves. You sigh and stand to throw out your now empty cup.

Just as you do, the door to the train station opens. You turn to look, and there stands Yoongi. He’s wearing a black shirt, a bag slung across his body. His hair is pushed back off his face and he’s wearing his glasses. He’s clutching an absolutely massive travel mug and his phone in one hand, the other rolls a small suitcase behind him. He looks sleepy, but the second his dark eyes land on you, he jolts a little, as if electrocuted into being awake and alert.

“Hey,” he says cautiously, approaching you.

“Hey.” You wave slightly–awkwardly.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is soft, still a little gruff from sleep. You get the sense that maybe he hasn’t said much of anything to anyone this morning.

You sigh and gesture for him to follow you to a bench. The next train–his, you presume–isn’t due for another 20 minutes. You have time, but not much.

“I didn’t like how we left things,” you admit. “I… I wasn't sure if you were serious.”

“Serious?” His head falls to the side slightly, confused. But then, it seems, he understands, and he nods. “I did miss you–I do. I spent the entire ride here thinking about how seeing you again was going to go.”

“Were you right?”

He chuckles. “Not exactly.”

You hum and nod, and for the briefest of moments, silence settles over you. The stationmaster types away at his computer, the clacking of the keyboard the only sound in the entire station. But then you force yourself to say something that’s been on your mind since he showed up on your doorstep two days ago.

“It’s been good seeing you again,” you say, and even though you mean it, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. “I… think in a way, after so long, I made you the villain in my head. It’s good to see that you’re… not that.”

“I am sorry,” he whispers. “That was the worst thing I have ever done, and I just…”

“I get it.”

“What?”

“I think I kind of always did, but… it just hurt too much to think that you were including me in everything that you wanted to get away from, and I just-”

“You were the last thing I wanted to get away from.” Maybe it’s the waver in his voice, maybe it’s the way he ducks his head to make sure he makes eye contact, but you believe him. He sits his mug down on the bench beside him and gathers your hands in his. “I was so fucking dumb. I would have taken you with me in a heartbeat, but god I was too stupid and selfish to take ten minutes to think.”

“I thought maybe I’d done something,” you admit quietly. “I thought that maybe after the night market-”

“No! Oh my god, no,” he exclaims, his hands tightening around your own. “You’re my best friend! I lo-”

“Train 49–the Northern Limited–will be arriving on the platform in five minutes,” the stationmaster announces, not even bothering to use the building’s intercom. “I’ll take you over to the platform when you’re ready.”

Yoongi groans.

“Here.” You pull your hands away from him and immediately miss the warmth of him. But you reach into your pocket, unlocking your phone and shoving it into his hands in one motion. “Put your number in.”

For a moment, he stares at you, dumbfounded. But then the stationmaster opens the door to his office, and the noise jolts Yoongi into action. He types quickly and hands you your phone. You don’t even look at it, just lock it and shove it into your pocket. He hands you his phone and you enter your own contact information before giving it back.

You stand at the same time, and for one brief, quiet moment, you worry that maybe he’s just going to leave it at that. But then he rubs the back of his neck and glances toward the stationmaster.

“I’ll text you,” he promises.

You nod, almost mechanically. You weren’t expecting it to hurt this much to see him leave again. As he turns to gather his things, something comes over you.

“I- Can we-” You sigh, take a deep breath. “Can I have a hug?”

He makes a noise somewhere between a hum and a squeak, and it takes almost no time for the pink to start blossoming on his cheeks. He sputters for a second, and you can feel his shock. But then he opens his arms, and you find yourself taking a small step forward.

It’s shockingly easy to fall back into him, to step into his arms. He’s warm, and solid, but still also somehow soft. His cologne lingers on his clothes, all lavender-y and citrus-y and sage-y. Your arms fit around his waist, and for a moment, you let yourself pretend that this is normal, that nothing ever happened and that he isn’t leaving. But you hear the train horn in the distance and you pull away. You kiss his cheek as you part, and his eyes go wide in shock.

“Text me,” you tell him firmly, reaching down to grab his coffee mug and hand it to him.

“I will. I promise.”

And with one last, fleeting look, he steps onto the elevator with the stationmaster to go over to the platform. 

You stand outside the station long after the train departs, feeling very much like you did when he’d left the first time. You should be feeling optimistic–for the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe there’s hope. For you, for your friendship, for… whatever comes next. But it’s hard to feel any sort of positive when he’s on a train back to a city seven hours away, and you have to go home in the exact opposite direction in a few short days.

As you’re walking back to your car in the lot down the street, your phone dings. When you unlock it, you get the sudden feeling that you’re flying, like a horde of butterflies have erupted within you. It’s nerves and it’s excitement and maybe, it’s also a little bit of hope.

Yoongi 💙: thanks again for not turning me into a bug

“I’ve been thinking,” Yoongi says one late night, his deep, sleep-deprived voice distorted ever so slightly by the distance and the speakers of your phone. You can barely see him–there’s a dim light that just slightly illuminates his face, but the rest of the room is dark.

“Dangerous,” you joke.

“Rude.” He nuzzles down further into his pillow. “I’d like to come visit,” he admits softly.

For a moment, your mind goes blank. There’s a fluttering in your stomach, hundreds of butterflies trying to escape at once. He’d kept his word after the train station, texting and calling you frequently over the past couple weeks. You’d text throughout the week–little messages about bad days and delicious lunches and cute dogs–and then on the weekends, one of you would inevitably end up calling each other. You’d spend hours on the phone, sometimes talking, sometimes just existing in the silence between you. 

The video calls were a recent development. Since they began, you’d watched him cook dinner, he’d played piano while you worked on a spreadsheet for work, and one early morning, he’d called you on his way home after bartending so he wouldn’t fall asleep on the train.

“What do you mean?” You laugh a little. Maybe it was a little obvious what he meant, but you wanted to hear him say it.

He groans a little, stretches one arm up before covering his eyes with it. He peeks out at you through the cook in his elbow, one singular, dark eye sparkling, even in the poor quality of the video. “I miss you,” he mumbles, and you almost don’t catch it, it’s so muffled by his arm and your phone’s speaker.

You hum. The butterflies in your stomach make themselves known again. “I guess you could come.”

“I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

“Hey now. It’s against the rules to take something like that back.”

He laughs. “What rules?”

“You know. The rules.” You gesture vaguely before pulling your blanket up a little further on your body. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the rules?” He grunts. “Being away for so long has rotted your brain, I’m afraid.”

“So rude.” His arm is still obscuring his face slightly, but you can see his big, gummy smile as he laughs. “No, but seriously. Are you busy next weekend?”

You frown. You’d been trying to forget about next weekend. “Normally I’d go home for the new year,” you say softly.

“Why don’t,” he begins, stifling a yawn. You’re a little surprised he’s made it this long without seeming tired. It’s almost 3am. “Why don’t I come hang out? We can do new year’s stuff together.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course.”

“What about work?”

He shifts, the arm that was over his face now supporting his head under his pillow. “I make the schedule. They’ll deal with it.”

“Yoongi.”

He continues on, ignoring you. “I can work the day shift and get a train right after work on Friday, but I wouldn’t get there until late, is that okay?”

You sigh. It would be nice to not spend the holiday alone. And it would be nice to see him again. Sure, you’ve been talking to him in one way or another, but it’s different than having him in person. You finally agree, and he shoots you a smug, sleepy smile.

The week passes at a glacial pace. Work is slow because of the break in classes for the upcoming holiday, and spending time in an empty library is infinitely less entertaining than you’d expect it to be. Most of your coworkers have taken off, so you’re mostly alone with your thoughts. You fill the time with paperwork, completing literature loan requests for the University’s faculty and doing intake for the newly released journals the library has subscriptions for. 

In the small handful of weeks since you’d seen him last, you’d replayed things in your mind. But mostly, you’ve been stuck on how nice it is to have him in your life again. You aren’t fooling yourself. You haven’t forgotten. But there’s a part of you–a large part, if you’re honest with yourself–that hopes that this is a step forward, that you can be close again. Maybe not how you were, but something that resembles a friendship.

After an eternity, it’s Friday. You sit outside of the train station in your car, parked in one of the pick up spots just outside of the main door. The trickle of people into and out of the station has slowed significantly now that it’s dark out–you’ve never seen it this dead. It’s late, the station is getting ready to close, but there’s one last train that has yet to come in. There’s another car parked a few spaces to your left, and you wonder briefly about who they’re waiting to pick up, but it’s fleeting. 

The door to the station opens automatically, and out steps Yoongi. He rolls a suitcase beside him, a messenger bag slung across his body, his other hand shoved deep into his hoodie pocket. He looks around, confused, his gaze going back and forth between your car and the one to your left. You turn on the dome light and wave and he nods.

He gives you a quick greeting as he opens the back door, shoving his bags in the back seat. When he finally climbs into the passenger seat, he sighs deeply, resting his head against the headrest for a moment before turning to you.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hey. How was the train?”

He groans. “Long.”

You hum. He’d worked a short, early shift so he could catch the last train from Ulmae to Ashland. He looks and sounds exhausted. But he’s here. He’s not a face on a screen, he’s in your car. You resist the urge to reach out and touch him. It’s strange. You’d been without him for nearly 13 years. It’s only been a few short weeks since you’d seen him last, but you’re giddy, practically bursting with excitement at the fact that, for the next two and a half days, he’s here. With you.

You drive in relative silence, willing the lights to be green more for Yoongi’s sake than your own. The radio plays a soft hip-hop song, and you vaguely recognize it as one of the bands he’d been obsessed with in high school, but you don’t turn it up. You’re fairly certain that he’s fallen asleep, his head lolled slightly to the side so that he’s facing the window.

It’s a damn miracle that there’s an open spot in front of your building, but you gladly take it. There are people in your building who don’t know how to parallel park—who refuse to do it—but you’d taught yourself just for instances like this. For a moment, you think you’re going to have to wake Yoongi up, but just as you cut the engine, he unbuckles his seat belt and stretches.

Your apartment isn’t large, but it’s bigger than most for what you pay for it. You’re on the seventh floor, the top floor of the building, and your bedroom has a lovely view of the building beside you. But if you lean a little to one side and press your face up against the glass, you can see out into the city beyond, and the university campus in the far distance.

He sits his bags down in your living room and plops down on the couch. You’ve already set out some blankets and a couple pillows for him. The clock on your microwave says 11:05.

“You’re probably exhausted,” you say. “I’ll let you get settled.”

Immediately, he picks his head up from the back cushion of the couch. “’m not tired.” Ever defiant. But you can tell he’s lying. You can see it in his eyes how groggy he is. Normally, he’s up much later than this–you know, because sometimes, he calls you–but between working an early shift and the six-hour train ride, you don’t blame him for being a little sleepy.

“I put some towels out in the bathroom,” you tell him, gesturing down the hall. “It’s the door on the left. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thanks.”

And with that, you leave him there in your living room. You can hear him unzipping his bag as you retreat into your room.

An hour later, you find that you can’t sleep. Not that you’ve even tried. You aren’t even sure why you’re so wired. But you’re sitting in your bed, legs covered by a sheet, in the dim light of your bedside lamp. You’ve had friends stay over before. But this… you feel like you did as a kid, having your first sleepover. Except back then you were wired on soda and sugary snacks and it was a treat to stay up late. Now, you’re just…

You hear the bathroom door open and shut, and after a moment, Yoongi stands in the doorway to your room.

“You have the softest towels in the world,” he says, hair hanging in damp strands in front of his eyes. He pats and scrunches it dry with one of the fluffy grey towels you’d set out for him. 

“Would you believe I got them on clearance?”

“I’ll just have to stuff one in my bag, then.”

“I charge a 5% fee for any towels that leave the premises.”

At that, he laughs, a groggy, squeaky sound that shakes his shoulders and crinkles his eyes and leaves a wide, gummy smile in its wake.

“So… what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“I haven’t really thought about it.” He shoots you a look that says he doesn’t believe you, and you relent. “Well,” you pat the bed beside you, inviting him to sit, “There’s this thing every year in the park to watch the meteors,” you say as Yoongi eases himself onto the mattress. “But it doesn’t start until late.” He hums. “Was there something you wanted to do?” 

“No, just-” He stifles a yawn. “Curious.” He leans back against the headboard, settling in.

Just like that, you fall easily into conversation. It’s comfortable, calm. Just two old friends chatting. He likes your apartment, thinks the tile in your bathroom is really nice. He asks about your job, nods along as you tell him about working in the library and your coworkers. 

And slowly, his reactions become slower, delayed, until he finally doesn’t respond at all. You look over, and his chin is tucked against his chest, his breathing gentle. Asleep.

For a moment, you consider going out to the couch. It would be weird, right, to stay here with him? But as you’re about to kick the blanket off, you pause. 

We’re adults. Adults can share a bed. It doesn’t have to mean anything. You’re mature enough to let this just be two people sleeping in the same space. 

At least, you think you are. 

But as you settle in yourself, snuggling down into your blankets and turning off the light, you’re suddenly faced with the quiet peacefulness of his face. He’d always been handsome, and now that you’re both older, you can appreciate just how beautiful he really is. He sighs and slides down a little, his hand brushing against your arm as he gets more comfortable. 

Oh no. 

You sit on the floor of your living room, a box of pizza on the coffee table that you’ve shoved out of the way. Yoongi’s beside you, your backs against the couch as you watch some anime he’d been trying to convince you to watch back in high school. You’re three episodes in, and you don’t have the heart to tell him that you don’t really care for the basketball-themed show. Part of you is still afraid that if you say something wrong, he’ll be gone again. 

His arm rests casually behind you on the cushions, far enough away that it’s more a comfortable way to sit than any sort of advance, but that doesn’t stop the smallest of butterflies from making itself known in your stomach. This Yoongi is so different from the Yoongi you knew—the one who, as a kid, got excited by construction equipment and the concept of ice cream, and as a teen spent his free time hiding from his parents, playing the piano and hanging out with you (though neither were mutually exclusive). He’s quiet, comfortable in the silence, comfortable with letting things linger. 

You’re a little jealous of it, to be honest. 

Yoongi leans forward slightly, and a piece of pizza meets him halfway, floating gently into his grasp. “Do you remember,” he begins, settling back in against the couch, “when we were 16 and we went camping?” You hum an affirmative. “We spent most of the week playing old board games with my parents.”

You smile at the memory. If anyone had asked back then, you would have told them it was lame that you’d had to spend the whole time with Yoongi’s parents. But now? That was one of the more fun summers you’d ever had. “What made you think of that?”

He shrugs, mouth full of pizza. “I dunno. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently. Things were so much simpler then…” 

You nod and hum softly, but ultimately, you say nothing. Much simpler indeed. 

“You know,” Yoongi begins, zipping his coat up to his chin, “when you said ‘park’, I was kind of expecting it to be in the city.”

“I think technically it is.” You lock your car and meet him at the front of it.

“We drove for an hour!”

You shrug. “Big city.”

He laughs and shakes his head, incredulous. He can’t tell if you’re being serious or not, but there was a sign on the way in with the university logo on it, so he supposes that whether it’s part of the city or not, it doesn’t really matter. There’s a well-lit trail that runs from the shale parking lot up a hill slightly to a clearing that overlooks the city and the rest of the park. It’s busy–people mill about around the parking lot, and he can see a steady stream of visitors on the trail up to the clearing. 

He adjusts his coat–it’s cold, and both his shoulder and his senses ache with the impending snow–and when he’s ready, the two of you start walking toward the trail. It’s astonishingly busy, and as you weave your way through the crowd, leading him up the hill, he grabs your hand. 

So we don’t get separated, he tells himself. For a moment, he expects you to pull away. Not maliciously, he’s not expecting you to scoff and throw his hand away. But what he isn’t expecting is for you to tighten your grip on him and tug him this way and that as you get closer to the clearing. His hand is warm where your skin touches his, like he’s holding a candle a little too close to the flame.

The clearing is massive, mostly flat but not entirely, with gentle rolling slopes that provide some extra elevation here and there. On one of the little hills, a few food trucks are set up, though how they got there, Yoongi isn’t really sure. Someone must have magicked them through the path or up the hill or something. There are picnic tables scattered around, mostly near the food trucks, but throughout the clearing, as well. Towards the edge of the clearing, there’s a cliff with an overlook that has a spectacular view of the city vista below. People are everywhere. Of course, there are a lot of college-aged kids hanging out in big and small groups. But there’s also a shocking amount of people that are Yoongi’s age and older–professors, he assumes, and university staff here to enjoy the evening. Almost all of them are holding drinks, and just about every one of them seems to be paired with someone.

It’s subtle sometimes, seeing bonded witches and familiars. Of course, the ones who are romantically involved tend to be more obvious, but the ones that are just friends are just as easy to spot once you know what to look for. It’s the people who stand so close together they’re almost touching, the ones who lean in a little extra close to whisper something. And the clearing is full of pairs standing in each other’s personal spaces.

You tug on his hand to direct him off to the left and he blindly follows, squeezing your fingers ever so gently as a response. 

There’s a pair of people at one of the tables by the food trucks. They spot you almost immediately, and one of them stands to greet you. He’s a little taller than you are, made even more obvious when he gives you an awkward, one-armed hug over the picnic table’s bench. The other one–a woman–remains seated, eyeing Yoongi.

For a hot minute, it’s weird, as he stands there in silence while you chat with the man and woman. It’s not even the side-eye that the woman’s shooting him. The man is handsome–Yoongi’s not blind–and you are friendly with him. But there’s a moment, the briefest of moments, where you gesture somewhere off to your left. And when your body moves, Yoongi’s arm moves, too, and a little part of him, a silly, childish, hopeful part, soars.

You’re still holding his hand.

Eventually, you introduce him to the two. Alice works the reference desk in your library while she’s doing a doctorate program in linguistics. Her partner is gone in the winter, fighting fires in the far south. Despite her harsh side-eye, she greets Yoongi with a smile and a polite handshake. Jihwan, on the other hand, is the head baseball coach at the university. How the two of you met, Yoongi can only guess, but you make no mention of Jihwan’s partner, and Yoongi doesn’t see a gem anywhere. He almost–almost–starts to feel bad for the guy, but then he opens his mouth.

You ask a simple question, gesturing with your head to the food trucks. “What do they have good?”

“The pierogi guy from last year is back-”

Jihwan interrupts Alice. “Too much butter.”

It’s not even what he says. It’s how he says it. Like you and Alice are toddlers, like you can’t be trusted not to drown yourselves in carbs. But you roll your eyes and Alice scoffs playfully, and Yoongi realizes that this is not the first time Jihwan has done something like this. And suddenly, Yoongi hates this guy. 

“Apparently, he’s got a new flavor this year,” Alice says, continuing like Jihwan never interrupted. “But the taco guy is also back-”

“Is the popcorn guy back?” you ask. laughing. “Because I kind of want a front-row seat to that.” Yoongi must look confused, because you explain. “Pierogi guy’s daughter was engaged to taco guy’s daughter. But last year, pierogi guy and taco guy just started yelling at each other-”

“-It was amazing,” Alice adds.

“It was ridiculous,” Jihwan mumbles.

You push him.  “It was a little like having our own little telenovela here.”

Cautiously, Yoongi asks, “Why were they fighting?”

“No one knows.” You shrug. “But it launched a campus-wide food war. Everyone was choosing sides. It was like the year the Moondance tried to change its logo.”

Jihwan and Alice look at you, a little confused. But Yoongi knows exactly what you’re talking about. Somewhere around when you were preteens, the owners of the Moondance diner decided that its logo was outdated and wanted to update it. The whole town had been in an uproar, whole neighborhoods entering into a Cold War-esque stand-off over their preferences. People who had been friends for 50 years were suddenly in an unsolvable, unending argument. All over a color palette swap and a slightly newer font. Yoongi hadn’t cared much one way or the other–all businesses change their logos at some point, right?–and he always suspected that you didn’t either, but you’d both gotten swept up in the chaos of it all. It was stupid, ridiculous fun, and he’s pretty sure that his parents still have the buttons you’d made somewhere in their house.

You finally let go of Yoongi’s hand when you’re standing in line at the taco truck, and he’s painfully aware of how empty it feels now. You don’t go far, though, standing close enough that your elbow brushes against his every once in a while. You’re scrolling through your phone, reading some news article to pass the time. It’s gotten darker since you’ve been there, and looking up, he can just barely make out a couple pinpricks of stars in the sky. The clearing is fairly bright, with little flickering balls of light criss-crossing the space like bistro lighting, and the lights from the city below don’t help to make the night sky visible. 

You pay for his tacos–”I get an employee discount,” you say, brandishing your university id like it’s a black card–and Yoongi doesn’t think that you were in line that long, but when you return to the table, Alice and Jihwan are gone. 

“Where’d-” He’s not even asked the question, but you’re already shrugging.

“Alice’s probably off calling her fiance,” you say it like you’re back in high school, all singsong-y and mockingly, “and who knows where Jihwan got to. Probably trying to take someone home tonight.”

“He seems…”

You sigh. “Yeah.”

“How’d you meet him?”

A pang of… something hits him. Your expression falls, ever so slightly, and he regrets asking. But after a brief moment, you clear your throat. “He and I are the only two on campus without gems.”

Oh. 

Well.

That makes sense.

“So they…”

You pick a piece of red cabbage off your taco and eat it. “Yeah, they know.”

Which explains Alice’s side-eye earlier. The weird emotion he’d gotten from you is gone now, and you seem to have just brushed right past the awkward feelings. 

He hums, not really sure what to say. What’s there to say? So instead of saying anything dumb, he does the safe thing. He changes the subject.

“No wonder they didn’t kick the taco guy out of the festival this year.” He takes another bite of his taco. “This is the best al pastor I’ve ever had.”

“His chimichangas are amazing, but he only makes them on special days.”

“More special than…?” He gestures vaguely. Around you, the lights have started to dim. Yoongi isn’t really sure when that started, but things are definitely less bright.

You laugh, and something inside of him warms.

He hasn’t even finished his tacos yet, but the vibe in the clearing starts to dramatically change. The crowd gathers tighter, a palpable buzz in the air. Alice has returned and stands alone near the head of the table. She’s looking up at the sky, and when Yoongi looks up, he sees why. There’s an aurora in the sky, gentle waves of effervescent greens and blues swirling through the heavens, just like the night market all those years ago. It has to be magic of some sort–the city isn’t far enough north for it to be natural–but he can’t tell who’s doing it.

A hand on his shoulder pulls his focus back to the ground. You’re there behind him, bathed in the dim glow of the floating lights around you. By now, it’s almost dark, but even in the low light and deep shadows, you’re beautiful. 

“Come on,” you say softly. “Let’s get a good spot closer to the lookout.”

He follows you through the crowd, weaving around the bodies to get closer to the edge of the clearing. It’s tight, and you grab his hand so you don’t get separated. Normally, Yoongi isn’t a huge fan of crowds like this. You’re a small island in a sea of people, and he barely has room to turn in a circle without bumping into someone. You stand close–close enough that he can feel your warmth through the chill of the night.

The city spans the valley below, a forest of metal and windows and concrete. A bright spot in the middle of an otherwise dark night. But then, individually at first and then more, the buildings’ lights begin to flicker out.

“They’ve been doing this festival since before the city got public electricity,” you explain, answering his question before he could even ask. “It’s kind of a big deal.”

With the lights of the city mostly out, the stars above are much brighter. He can almost see them twinkling and winking as they burn, millions of billions of lightyears away. The night sky is beautiful, and his eyes drift around to locate the constellations he’d learned as a child. Almost immediately, he finds Perseus, right beside his wife Andromeda. You’d loved the myth of Perseus slaying Medusa when you were kids, and even though he hadn’t looked for the constellation in over a decade, finding it is still ingrained in him. 

He nudges you slightly, pointing up to the constellation. But just as he does, a pinprick of light streaks across the sky. You squeeze his hand as more streaks start to appear and the gathered crowd buzzes with ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s. The meteors are all sizes. Big and bright. Small and thin. They aren’t constant, only a few show up every minute, but it’s beautiful to watch. 

There’s a strange sensation growing in his chest, something warm and fluttering and all-encompassing. You lean a little closer and the feeling grows. You must sense something–he’s never really been sure what his emotions feel like for you–because you look up at him. For a moment, you look confused.

Yoongi isn’t really sure how it happens, but what he does know is that suddenly, your face is centimeters from his own. He thinks that maybe someone bumped you and you took a step closer, but maybe that’s just his brain trying to fill in the gaps. He also knows that he’s the one that closes the space between you, leans in and brushes his lips against yours. It’s quick, a little impulsive, and truthfully, it feels a little forbidden. 

He pulls away, not far enough to make it seem like he’s made a mistake, but enough that it gives you an out, if you want it. His brain starts making all these calculations–what he should do if you back away, what he should do if you slap him, what if you don’t react.

But then you whisper, “Why’d you stop?” and your hand slides up his chest to grip the lapel of his coat. You tug with a surprising amount of force, and when your lips connect, he feels himself soaring. 

His entire world narrows to the points where your bodies connect. The firm touch of your knuckles against his shirt, the way your leg presses against his, but mostly the heat from your lips as he deepens the kiss. You fit against him perfectly, as if you were made for each other. He’d only kissed you that one time, but somehow, he’d missed it, missed you. 

When you finally pull away, you stay close, pressed against his chest–though whether that’s fully your choice or because of the crowd tightening around you is anyone’s guess. He can feel your heart pounding, and when you shoot him a small smirk, he’s pretty sure that you can feel the pace of his own pulse. Your grip loosens on the collar of his coat and you smooth it down coolly before your arm wraps around his back. Without a word, you cozy in, pressed close as your gaze returns to the sky and to the stars.

For a moment, he stands there, unmoving, mind empty. But then it’s like he snaps out of a trance, and he snakes an arm around your waist, holding you tightly. His focus shifts to the shooting stars above, catching one just as it streaks across the sky. As he stands there, staring at the heavens and feeling your steady breathing, his mind begins to wander.

12 years, 7 months, and 3 days. He’d spent most of that time wondering what would have happened if he hadn’t left. If, after he’d kissed you at the night market, he’d been satisfied with whatever life had come after that. He’d been so scared back then, of losing control, of his life not being his own. But now, none of that matters.

Now, he’d give up almost anything to stay here, in this moment, in your arms. 

okay so like... what do we think? how are we feeling? I was originally planning on having this be much longer, but I was so stressed out from grad school, I just wanted to get it out now. I'm so excited to hear your thoughts! and let me know if you want to see a part 2 (and if so, what you might want to see in it!!)

[manikas-whims]

Before this issue gets drowned out like certain bootlickers do everytime..

Here's more on Papergames and Infold’s unreasonable money milking

via twitter fandom

• how it was worse and how certain things were slightly improved only after CN whales complained

• endless mistranslations aka issues with Lumiere's r2 solar pair bonus (Lumiere havers you might know) + the mistranslation and wrong flower still being mentioned on Xavier's Lightseeker Myth (it should be Forget-me-nots, not whatever that other flower is)

THE BUGS IN MASTER OF FATE ZAYNE 🫠 something my friend constantly keeps complaining about but no fix..

• JOURNEY

There used to be a feature where you used to get some extra rewards by completing certain actions per chapter of Main.

I started playing around end of May so i still experienced this. But this feature only lasted till 4 chapters??

And after the version 2.0 update, this feature was completely eradicated. Not even there for NEW players.

Now I can't believe i have to praise Genshin of all but they DO have chapter rewards as well..

Genshin has rewards for even leveling up characters and artifacts (similar to protocores) to a certain level.

• lack of events (genshin runs at least 3-7 events at the same time)

• a lot of content locked behind cards, and even then the amount charged far more compared to the meagre content in said cards

• Reruns (though i believe they might happen from next year onwards)

• Insane Difficulty in leveling up cards

this game just doesn't allow people to have spare materials! forget hoarding, you can barely save on the materials you acquire..

compared to this.. I can't believe i have to praise Genshin and Star Rail again..

Below are 2 characters I pulled recently in Genshin, and I've managed to upgrade both in like a few minutes because Genshin allows me to keep spare materials instead of charging insane amounts to get a card to just level 40

You can see my in-game currency, my upgrade materials compared to the bare amount of bottles we get from Heartbreaker (and we don't even get the golden bottles for free)

• Reduction in the amount of New Event Rewards

someone pointed out how the Diamond rewards are lesser (from 750 to 500) for the upcoming event, compared to the past ones

• Amount of Banners in a Month

Y'all can call me annoying but doing this many number of banners in a month is INSANE. It allows no room for breathing to any LIs fans.

“pick one guy & you won't have to spend” 🤪

I STILL BELIEVE A BANNER SHOULD RUN FOR AT LEAST 25~30 DAYS because rn running 3+ banners in a month seems like nothing but low quality cash grabs with pretty outfits..

Lastly, I do not mean to spoil anyone's mood for the upcoming quad banner but these are all issue that need to be given consideration, instead of brushing them off simply because sOme PeOpLe cAn pAY 🫠

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 26 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: No matter what Bradley did, you seemed frustrated with him. You needed a new car, but you needed to start communicating with him even more. He was scrambling to try to fix everything, but it was hard when you could barely stay awake for a conversation.

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, pregnancy topics, angst

Length: 5900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

When nearly a week had gone by, and you still wouldn't focus on picking out a new car for yourself, Bradley was starting to get frustrated. Sharing the Bronco with you wasn't a big deal. You respected it and treated it well, but he had to play nice when you wanted to use it to go to brunch on Sunday with Cam and Maria at the same time he wanted to play golf.

"Can't Jake pick you up?" you asked him with an annoyed sigh. "I'll text him and ask if he can come get you."

"Why can't Cam or Maria pick you up?" he asked, feeling kind of fucking fed up with you at the moment. 

"Fine," you replied, an eerily calm expression taking over your face. "I'll have one of them pick me up for brunch in the morning. Don't worry about it."

You turned on your heel and walked back to the bedroom leaving Bradley raking his fingers through his hair. He had finally started to feel normal again after having your parents at the house for a few days. It's not like they were even loud or inconsiderate, but he just struggled a bit with it anyway. He wasn't used to closing the bedroom door knowing Tramp liked to wander around the house at all hours of the day and night. He liked to take a piss with the bathroom door open, and he liked to randomly reach up under your shirt when you were in the kitchen if you welcomed it. And he just couldn't do any of that with other people in the house, even though it was family. 

"Fuck," he mumbled. It wasn't even a big deal for you to take the Bronco to brunch. Jake or Javy could easily get him on their way to the golf course, and now he needed to go apologize to you. But the bedroom door was closed when he got there, and he immediately felt like he needed to be touching you, because you were literally the only person who could be in his personal space all day long and not usually annoy him in the slightest. 

When he turned the knob, he was relieved to find it wasn't locked. "Baby Girl?" he called out cautiously, and then he found you in the bathroom. "Shit," he whispered, watching you wipe your eyes before turning toward the mirror, but there was no way to hide from him in here. "I'm sorry."

"Could you just leave me alone?" you asked without looking at him.

The words caused him physical pain, because that was the last thing he wanted right now. He'd gotten used to how much better everything was recently, and he was absolutely unwilling to stop communicating with you. "Can we talk about it? About a car? We could buy one tomorrow if you pick one out."

You turned and snapped at him. "Maybe next time just don't fuck up the one I already have!"

He had apologized to you countless times. He'd given your shit car a eulogy. He had offered to buy you any car you found that you wanted, but now he was just as mad as you were. "I just wanted to tell you that you can use the Bronco tomorrow."

"How generous," you replied sarcastically. "But I already told you I'll get a ride from Cam or Maria. Now would you please leave me alone?"

Bradley nodded and retreated back to the living room couch with Tramp, because he didn't know what else to do. He stretched out and decided to look at cars until you resurfaced to make dinner. There were two huge dealerships in San Diego that had the current model year of your old car, and they both had them stocked in several colors with different options available. You could get a new red one with a sunroof and gray interior just like you had before. He'd upgrade the stereo package to make riding in it less painful for him, but he'd buy it right now if you said it's what you wanted. 

As he thought back to the way you dragged your feet about wedding planning, he muttered a string of obscenities. At this rate, he'd be sharing the Bronco with you for a long time. He bookmarked a bunch of new cars, and then he searched all over the country to see if anyone was selling an exact replica of the one he totaled. A few hours later, it occurred to him that you never came back out of the bedroom. He scooped up Tramp where he'd fallen asleep on his chest and carried him back down the hallway. 

You were sound asleep in bed, curled up on your side, breathing softly. Bradley checked the time again. It was only 7:15, but maybe you just needed to rest. He tucked the covers up around your shoulders and kissed your forehead before venturing back out to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich before working out.

------------------------

By the middle of the week, you were aggressively annoyed by everything, but mostly Bradley's voice. On Sunday, Cam picked you up for brunch even though Bradley told you a million times you could use the Bronco. You didn't even want to use the Bronco. He could use it all day long. And then you went back to Cam's place and lounged on his couch until you were starting to get hungry for dinner. If Bradley wondered why you were out for a six hour brunch, he didn't ask. 

But when he eventually called your phone, you asked Cam to drive you home. "Your husband is like a twelve out of ten," he murmured as he drove you. "Don't be mean to him." Then you climbed out of his car onto your driveway and rolled your eyes, because after that he was getting on your nerves, too.

So on Monday and Tuesday, you just avoided Bradley as much as you could at work after driving in with him, but on Wednesday, as he pulled into the parking garage, he cleared his throat. "Hard Deck tonight?"

"You can go," you replied as you unbuckled your seatbelt. "You can take the Bronco, and I'll just stay home." You bit your lip immediately as you said the words, because you felt like crying. You couldn't understand what was wrong with you as tears burned your eyes. The last thing you wanted to do was skip a fun night out. You also didn't know why you couldn't commit to a car. Everything felt like too much the last few days, and you wanted to scream.

"Can we talk about this?" Bradley asked, his voice pleading with you, but you didn't even know what to say. 

"Later," you told him before heading for the building, but he was right behind you, undeterred.

"Don't give me that later bullshit. We've been talking and communicating a lot better, and I absolutely refuse to stop doing either of those things!"

You spun around so fast, he almost collided with you. "I have a meeting with Bickel, okay? About Annapolis. And it starts in twenty minutes. And I'm tired. And I miss my car. And I need to go."

After that, you weren't sure if he followed you or not, because you didn't turn around to check. When you got to your office and opened your computer, you saw the calendar reminder that made more tears cloud your vision. You cradled your forehead in your hand. Saturday was Carole Bradshaw's birthday. 

The fact that you forgot it was coming up was worrying, because you couldn't let work take over your life again like it had in the past. You'd been mentally planning to make another fancy dinner to celebrate her day, the way you had for both of Bradley's parents' birthdays last year. Filet mignon and crab cakes and brownies. 

Fuck. You wanted to sit alone in your office and cry all morning, but now you had four minutes until you had to sit down with your boss. You pulled yourself together the best you could and made your way to talk to Bickel. Cat was there too, and you could feel her intense gaze on you as if she was physically touching you. You knew she could tell something was on your mind, but you sat as calmly as you could and looked through the folder of information that was given to you. 

Bickel folded his hands on his desk and said, "I'm letting the two of you decide how you'd like to present our work in Annapolis. I'm trying to finalize some dates for us, but it's looking like the first week of August. This would add two million dollars to our pending budget for next year, which would give us the opportunity to explore an even more advanced comms system. And it would be a great way for me to push for your promotion, Lieutenant Coleman."

"Yes, Sir," Cat replied immediately. When you were both dismissed, she took you by the arm out in the hallway and whispered, "Please, I need you to focus on this for me. Okay? Why do you look like you're on the verge of tears?"

"I'm having a bad week," you whispered, still unsure why you felt like this. Your fingers were tingling, and you were so anxious, you were about to walk yourself to see Dr. Genevieve. But you hadn't eaten breakfast, and it was almost lunchtime now after Bickel kept you so long. "I need lunch," you told Cat, and she sighed and walked down to the cafeteria with you.

Part of you wanted to see Bradley, but part of you did not. And something about the idea of a burrito bowl was turning your stomach just looking at it. You picked out a sandwich and some soup and found a spot at a table that was completely empty except for Bob. 

"Hi," you said softly, and he looked up from his notebook with a smile as you slid into the seat across from him. 

"Hi," he replied in his sweet voice that immediately made you feel calmer. "I actually was hoping to see you to thank you again. Maria has been really accommodating about me moving in, and this way I don't have to commute into the city every day."

You waved him off as you tried a spoonful of the flavorless soup. "I'm just happy it worked out. For both of you. I didn't want Maria to have some creep move in since she couldn't find anyone else. And obviously you're just lovely, Bob."

He visibly bristled a bit. "No, she shouldn't have to deal with a creepy roommate."

Then Jake dropped down in the seat next to yours and turned to smile as Cat sat on his other side. "Angel. What the hell are you doing to Rooster now?"

"What do you mean?" you asked, looking around, but your husband and Nat were still in line for food. 

"He's fucking miserable today. Cranky as hell. And I know for a fact nothing can set that man off the way you can. It's honestly pretty funny, but he did snap at me three times. It's like dealing with Hondo all over again."

"Sorry," you heard Cat mutter as she ate her lunch.

You gripped your spoon in your hand and took a deep breath, but all you could say was, "I don't know." You truly didn't know what was going on. Your brain was in a constant fog, and you felt so antsy. 

Bradley sat across the table from you, eyeing you carefully from his spot next to Bob. You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but you didn't know if it came across that way when he just looked sadder. 

"Who's coming to the bar tonight?" Nat asked loudly.

After Jake and Cat agreed to go, you quietly said, "Not me. I have to catch up on some things I was supposed to read, but I'll drop Bradley off for the night."

Your husband shook his head and opened his mouth to reply, but Nat was already squeezing his shoulder. "Sounds good," she said, and after that, he sat quietly. 

----------------------------

Bradley flew all afternoon, and it was bad. Just really, very bad. He was distracted, and the fact that Javy had to keep repeating himself was about to earn Bradley a lecture from Maverick if he didn't pull it together. But you were just making him so sad, and he had no idea why you were currently barely able to look at him without crying or yelling. 

He hadn't even done anything. Had he? Yeah, he'd completely destroyed your beloved car, but the visit with your parents had gone pretty well. He hadn't missed any important dates of anniversaries. He'd been keeping up with his chores at home. 

You'd been running a bit hot and cold in the bedroom. He'd never push you for more than you wanted to do, but then perhaps he hadn't been good for you recently? The mere thought had him squirming and sweating in his cockpit as he followed Javy into a dive. Shit. Could that be it? He always got you off. Except that he knew he hadn't in the family bathroom at the Padres game, but you and he had been in a rush. And that night last week when you started yawning while you rode him, he distinctly remembered you saying it didn't matter if you came since you were so tired.

Shit. Things had been going great, he didn't realize what he'd been doing, and now he had to figure out how to fix it when you seemed so disinterested in talking to him. As he brought his jet back down to the tarmac he tried to come up with a plan, but he felt helpless. These were the times he felt like having a mother of his own would come in handy, because he couldn't exactly take this to your mom. 

"Fuck." He wrenched his helmet off and ran his fingers through his hair. You were sending him off to the bar alone tonight to get him out of your space, he could tell. So maybe the best thing he could do right now was just follow your lead. 

After he showered and headed for the parking garage, he found you leaning against the side of the Bronco waiting for him. "Hi, Sweetheart," he said, leaning down to kiss you softly.

Your quiet response of, "Hi, Roo," made him feel a lot better, and you let him buckle you in, which was great. But then you said, "I'll just drop you off at the bar later and come back for you. I have some things I want to get done."

He nodded. "Sure. Whatever you want." 

Back at home, he was able to coax you onto his lap for dinner at the dining room table, and even though it was a quiet affair, he didn't mind. He just rubbed his hand up and down your back, and eventually you sank back against him even though you'd only had a few bites of food. You were practically asleep on him as he finished eating, but you jolted up when his phone vibrated against your hip.

"It's probably just Nat," he whispered, and you nodded as you checked the time. 

"I'll drop you off whenever you're ready, and I'll come back for you around ten?"

He cupped your perfect cheek in one hand and asked, "Are you sure you don't want to come? I can help you get caught up with work tomorrow or this weekend. I'm a pretty good helper."

You cracked the tiniest smile as you said, "I'm just not in the mood. You go and drink and have fun, and I'll come back for you."

He kissed your cheek. "I'll be waiting, ready to come home with you whenever you get there."

--------------------------

When Bradley climbed out of the Bronco, you watched him head inside the bar. He was wearing his white and yellow floral print shirt, part of the matching set that he'd bought for the two of you, and he looked so sexy, you were thrumming with need. You were all over the place. A few days ago, the mere sight of him had you ready to climb out the window, and now you were on the verge of chasing him down to fuck you.

"Get a grip. My god," you moaned as you pulled back onto the road. At least now you could go to the store and purchase everything you'd need to make Carole's birthday dinner in peace. 

The store was quiet, which was great, because you didn't currently know if something was about to set you off. You grabbed a cart, and the cool metal against your hands felt nice. A smile found its way to your face as you listened to Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac playing throughout the store and picked out some beautiful looking steaks. Then you found everything for the crab cakes and the brownies, and you got a bottle of expensive champagne. 

You were already feeling better now, almost excited to celebrate the mother-in-law that you'd never had the privilege of meeting. She deserved a special day and a fancy dinner, because even though you didn't know her personally, you were absolutely certain Carole Bradshaw was incredible. The sparkle of your engagement ring caught your eye, and you stood in front of the wine and champagne and sobbed quietly until you felt like you could continue shopping. 

It had to be the combination of work and her birthday and your car that was setting you off. No matter how bad it made you feel, you'd pick out a new car this weekend. You knew there was enough in your savings account for a down payment, so you just had to force yourself to bite the bullet. You'd do it for Bradley and for yourself. 

While you unpacked the groceries, you made a sandwich, finally hungry again after you'd barely been able to eat dinner. But that started to make you too full after just half of it. "Don't tell Daddy," you whispered before feeding it to Tramp. 

Then you sat at the island and read through the folder from Bickel. You had weeks of research and planning ahead of you, but it would be worth it for the grant money. Cat was a solid gold choice as a partner for this, especially since she was motivated by that promotion she wanted. You were excited, but realistically so. You needed to make sure you didn't overdo things this time around. You could rely on Cat as much as yourself, and you knew that now.

When you checked the time on your phone, it was already 10:30. You texted Bradley and let him know you'd be there soon. When you started the Bronco, you got a text back.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: Can't wait for you to take me home.

You smiled and sang on your way there, already feeling better about having everything for Carole's birthday dinner ready to go. You parked the Bronco and headed inside, twirling Bradley's keyring on your fingers. As soon as you pushed the door open, the wave of noise hit you, and you made a beeline for the pool table. Penny's summer drink specials must have been on point, because the place was packed.

Just when you were trying to squeeze between two massive guys, you caught sight of Bradley just in time to see a woman walk up behind him and tap him on the shoulder. Maybe he thought it was you at first, because he spun to face her with a smile on his face. You got jostled around a little bit as your steps faltered and came to a stop. Bradley was conversing a bit with her now, although his smile was gone, and you watched as she reached up with her perfectly manicured nails and dragged them along his paper airplane tattoo on his bicep.

"Oh, hell no," you gasped, registering that Bradley looked surprised, and not in a good way. But you were frozen to the spot now as disgust, embarrassment and jealousy washed over you. It wasn't like he wasn't wearing his wedding band. He was. How was that not enough? You couldn't decide if you wanted to run away or rip her head off.

Bradley immediately started to back away from her, shaking his head as he went, and then his gaze connected with yours. He mouthed your name, and you could see the concern on his face as you swallowed hard. Instead of running away, you stood there like an idiot when he came rushing in your direction.

"Sweetheart," he said, reaching for your hand, his eyes on yours. 

"Who's your friend?" you asked. Your voice sounded like it belonged to someone else while your throat burned. 

You let him wrap one big hand around your back and pull you closer, holding you there. "No idea. Never saw her before thirty seconds ago."

"I didn't like her touching you."

His eyebrow quirked up as his hand dipped a little lower. "Neither did I. Especially since I got the tattoo for you, Baby Girl."

You had your arms around his neck instantly, the other woman forgotten as you kissed your husband. He tasted like your favorite beer, and you whimpered. But your body felt somehow both too tender and too needy pressed up against him as you said, "It's for me. Mine. Let's go home."

-------------------------

Bradley let you drive since he'd had a fair amount to drink. That fucking woman just about ruined his night by asking him what he was drinking and then touching his arm, feigning interest in his unique tattoo. The past week had already felt like touch and go with you, and he was unwilling to make it worse. He still wasn't quite sure how to get things back to where they had been just a short time ago. 

When you parked in the driveway in the spot where you used to park your car, he almost winced. But you crawled over to his lap and started to unbutton his shirt. "Take me to bed," you told him, rubbing yourself on him through his jeans. 

He grunted in response, carrying you up to the porch and wrestling with his key in the lock as you kissed his neck. Clothing was discarded along the way, and when he got you in the bedroom with the soft lamplight illuminating your skin, he moaned. 

"Jesus Christ, you're a dream."

Truly, your tits had never looked better, and somehow the aroused looking little scowl you were shooting his way was really working him up as you shimmied your jeans down your legs. He was hard when you finally pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top. 

"I love you," he promised as your lips met his, and you sank down around his length. Warm and wet and perfect. Holy shit, you felt incredible as you rolled your hips slowly, his hands settling at your waist. You were velvety smooth everywhere. The only thing he wanted. 

He held your hips in his hands and thrust up into you as his lips met your nipple. You moaned as he licked you, but as soon as he sucked hard, pulling you between his lips, you gasped. So he did it again and again, but your hips stilled and your hands left his shoulders and reached for his cheeks.

"It hurts," you gasped, pushing his face away from your chest. "Stop."

He let his head settle back on the pillow. "Sorry." Tentatively, he brought his hand up to your left breast and gave you a nice squeeze, but you pulled away further. Then you were kneeling next to him with your arms crossed over your chest. "Sorry," he repeated. "But I always touch you that way?"

You burst into tears and said, "It just hurts."

And that was the last thing you said to him for the night as you crawled under the covers. As soon as Bradley got his erection under control by pacing around the bathroom, he walked back to the bed to find you sound asleep.

On Thursday and Friday, you didn't even acknowledge it. When he asked if it was okay if he touched you on Thursday morning, you went willingly into his arms as the toaster popped out your breakfast. And on Friday morning, you let him snuggle with you a little bit before you got out of bed, so at least he was fairly convinced you weren't too mad at him. But he just knew he hadn't been doing enough for you in bed which really pissed him off. 

He was older than everyone else around him seemingly all the time, and now he was feeling insecure about it again. If he could just manage to get you to have a real conversation with him, then he'd try to fix this. But you were busy with work, something else that had a red flag shooting up in the back of his mind. No, he was not going to fuck this all up yet again. You and he had something special, and he was going to demand a conversation. 

--------------------------

You poked at your lunch on Friday as Jake and Bradley argued next to you in the cafeteria. You were barely able to pay attention to them, because you were so tired, and you had another meeting with Bickel in an hour. As far as you could tell, you were getting the flu, which seemed weird for July, but nothing else made sense. 

No matter how much you slept, you were exhausted. Your body was aching, and you were so damn moody. You'd practically accosted Bradley on Wednesday after you picked him up from the bar, but then you fell asleep as soon as you told him your breasts hurt. You felt embarrassed now as you looked at him next to you, because after all of that, you didn't even let him finish that night. 

As you adjusted your shirt, you could have screamed at how tender your nipples were. At least it was Friday. You could catch up on reading for your presentation research, and then you could sleep. 

"Come on, Rooster," Jake complained. "You have to come tomorrow. I'll leave the hard seltzers at home, and Javy and I will behave."

Bradley turned to look at you with big, brown eyes before he told Jake, "No. No golf tomorrow. I have some things I need to take care of." Then he turned back toward you and softly said, "We're talking tomorrow. About a bunch of stuff. Until we are sorted out."

Now you felt guilty as Jake shot you a look. "We can talk tomorrow afternoon, Roo. Go play golf."

"Yeah, Bradshaw," Jake piped up. "Angel said you can do shit with her in the afternoon. So you'll come with Bob, Javy and I? You know Reuben sucks at golf. He's even worse than you."

"Go," you told Bradley, kissing the edge of his mustache before you stood. "Yes, Jake, he will be golfing tomorrow. I plan on sleeping in, and the quiet house will be nice."

Bradley reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he looked up at you. "I love you."

You nodded. "I love you, too. I need to go get ready for a meeting." His eyes were on your body as you walked away, but you needed to focus on work right now. 

It was all you could do to go back to Bickel's office with Cat and not fall asleep in his soft leather chair. Your boss's calm voice and the warm room were almost too much for your senses. You were fighting with yourself to keep your eyes open. Fighting with everything you had to stay engaged. An hour went by and then two, and he was still talking, and so was Cat, and they kept asking you for input. You were clinging to your extensive knowledge on the subject matter and hoping for the best when Bickel's desk phone rang, and he finally dismissed you. 

"This is so exciting," Cat gushed out in the cooler hallway. "I was telling Jake last night that you and I are going to have the best presentation at the Naval Academy next month, and do you know what he said?"

"Hmm?" you hummed as you walked to the lab.

"He offered to watch Jeremiah!"

"Oh." You hadn't even really considered how hard it would be for Cat to go to Maryland with you, but this was probably a big deal. Jeremiah wasn't even two yet. "Wow. Look at Jake being an exceptional boyfriend. Good thing I pushed the two of you to actually communicate with each other."

Cat laughed and hugged you before entering the lab, but you cringed. Communication. You'd talk to Bradley tomorrow afternoon. You'd pick a car tomorrow afternoon. But when you got home today, you were going to take your temperature and then get in bed. 

You had to wait by the Bronco for such a long time, you contemplated texting Bradley to see what the holdup was. It was late, you were actually starving, and you wanted to go home. You shifted your bag from one shoulder to the other, beyond annoyed that there was only one key to this thing; you couldn't even sit inside. You glared at the pretty blue paint, really missing your ugly red car with your whole heart when you heard boots pounding the pavement behind you.

"I'm so sorry, Baby Girl," Bradley gasped. He must have run the whole way here from the tarmac since he was still in his flight suit. "We ran over. I should have left the keys with you this morning. I"m sorry."

You nodded as he helped you in the passenger side door and buckled you in. "Okay."

He pulled out of the parking garage, glancing at you every few seconds. "All you're going to say is okay?"

You yawned wishing you could get undressed. "What do you want me to say, Bradley?"

He was quiet for a few blocks, but when he turned down your street, he let loose. "I want you to say something more than okay. I want you to fucking talk to me, alright? I feel like everything I'm doing right now is making you mad at me, and I hate that. I fucking hate it." He hit the brakes a little hard in the driveway, and now you were alert as you started crying. 

"Fuck!" Bradley growled, hands gripping the steering wheel. "I'm sorry." He looked so upset right now, you didn't even know what to do as tears streamed down your cheeks. Then he was running across the driveway and helping you out of the Bronco and into the house, but the tears kept coming. And now your head was throbbing and you felt so sick. 

"I just want to go to bed," you gasped. "Please," you begged as he kissed your forehead over and over again while Tramp jumped around. 

"Of course," Bradley whispered, his lips meeting your face again before he knelt in front of you. He kissed your thighs through your khaki pants and helped you out of your boots, looking up at your face which you were sure looked like a wreck. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry I yelled." 

"It's okay," you managed as the room spun a little bit. "I just need to get in bed."

He carried you there, and it felt amazing to not have to walk. Then he set you on the bed and undressed you as he asked, "Do you want some water? A snack?"

You nodded and got under the covers, and said, "Yes, please," as you started to doze off. All you managed to do was eat a handful of trail mix and chug a glass of water before you passed out. 

When you eventually woke up, you felt a little better, but when you rolled over, the other half of the bed was empty and cold. It was eight in the morning according to your phone. You'd just slept for over twelve hours, and Bradley was out playing golf now. The cool fabric of his pillow on your face felt so nice, you rolled over all the way. You must have a fever and the flu. You felt too hot, and your breasts were aching. So was your abdomen. Your period was probably about to start. 

You frowned and looked at your phone again, opening the calendar app. It was Carole's birthday, but it was apparently also five weeks since you'd had your period. "Oh my god." You practically fell out of the bed, your legs tangling up in the sheets as you tried to get to your feet. 

"Oh shit," you gasped, running for the bathroom. You didn't know what to do first, but your stomach won as you lunged for the toilet and threw up everything in your stomach. "Gross," you groaned as you flushed the toilet, but as soon as you tried to stand, more came up. Your heart was thudding in your chest as you forced yourself to be patient and let your stomach empty itself.

When you finally could, you got to your feet again, removing your glasses to rinse your mouth out and splash water on your face. Then you dried yourself and slid them back on. You eyed the linen closet next to the door in the mirror before turning around slowly. As you strode across the tile floor, Tramp came in to investigate, but you ignored him as you closed the distance to where you thought you might have one last pregnancy test hidden away.

You opened the narrow door and knelt down, and then you started throwing everything from the bottom shelves over your shoulders, frantically searching. You saw the box, and you tore it open. You already knew what to do, because you'd done it so many times before, but your hands were shaking as you removed the test and looked at it on your palm in the foil wrapper. 

Tramp whimpered at you as you got to your feet again and made it to the toilet, this time pulling your underwear down as you went. When the wrapper fell away, you took the test, hands shaking as you set it on the edge of the sink vanity when you were done. Then you wiped as you started to panic. Three minutes. You needed to wait for three minutes. 

Your phone was simply too far away as you started counting out loud, your voice echoing around your bathroom. It wasn't ready yet. You climbed into the empty bathtub, sitting and wrapping your arms around your knees. And you counted. 

You closed your eyes, and you counted. You looked at Tramp, and you counted. You pressed your forehead to your knees, and you counted all the way until you reached one hundred and eighty. 

"Three minutes," you whispered, your heart beating so hard, it was making you feel like you might need to throw up again. You climbed out of the tub onto unsteady legs and held your breath as you walked to the vanity. Very carefully, like it was the most precious thing you'd ever touched, you picked up the test. You checked the result before promptly dropping it to the floor.

------------------------

Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 27

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@wintercap89

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@chaoticassidy

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@bradshawsbitch

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

@gennyanydots

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

[enhypens-hoe]

milf (teaser!!) - Jeon Jungkook

🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨

🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪

(pics. from pinterest but I made the banner myself)

pairing: hot neighbor!nonidol Jungkook x female milf reader

genre: smut, one-shot, age gap (32 and 24) hot neighbor

summary: You and your husband Hoseok have a 6 year-old. You want your marriage with Hoseok to work out but he’s making it difficult. Even throughout these hard times you would not change your life for the world. Well.. what happens when you find out you have a new neighbor but to your surprise he was truly the hottest man you have ever seen.

warnings: cursing, cheating, smut, not much aftercare :/ (tbh jk can’t rlly shower her with love because they choose to have sex at the worst times so he just cleans her quickly sorryyy), breast play, riding (car sex), ass slapping (light), unprotected sex (please use protection), kind of mean dom! jk, sub!reader, bj, doggy style (hitting from the back), slightly possessive jk? dirty talk, age gap, breeding, mention of pregnancy (reader does not get pregnant), pet names, hair tugging, use of (slut, whore, etc.)

ft: le sserafim's Yun-jin (she's aged up to 32) & BTS J-hope (he’s aged up to 33)

Milf -Jjk

🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨

“Have you seen him?!” your best friend Yunjin shouts in your ear while pushing her cart. You two were out grocery shopping while the kids were in school. Yunjin decided to join since she was off of work.

Yunjin and you have been best friends from 2nd grade up until college and after that. You guys met your husbands in college, but Yunjin got divorced last year. Yunjin got pregnant around the same time as you and moved next door. You couldn’t be happier. Her son and your son are best friends I know it’s cliche but whatever. Apparently, we have a new neighbor and according to her he is very attractive. Piercings, tattoos, muscles, he has a motorcycle, can cook, etc. he has it all. She caught a glimpse of him when she came to pick up her son Chul from his playdate with Eun-Woo and she won’t stop drooling over him.

"No actually I haven't. I have been so busy with Eun-Woo starting school I haven't even introduced myself." you say scrunching your eyebrows still recovering by Yunjin's shouting. You weren't very convinced that your new neighbor was as hot as Yunjin was making it seem. "And let me remind you I'm married remember?" you announce as you show her your hand wiggling the finger that the diamond sat on.

Yunjin rolled her eyes lightly smacking your hand away. "Right, I forgot... whatever, this guy has the moms all over him. They are going after him like he's some piece of meat." Yunjin pouts wishing she got some time alone to talk to Jungkook. "And you aren't going after him... for his meat?" She side eyes you while you're looking for cereal. "I'm telling you ___ he's exactly your type and if you don't believe me just introduce yourself besides its the friendly neighbor thing to do." she said as she had a small smile on her face.

"I don't know Yunjin maybe if I get the time I can meet your next husband" you whisper to her as you both laugh.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You get home and place your bags down in the kitchen. You look up and see the time on the stove. 1:00pm… you still had an hour and forty minutes until Eun-Woo got out of school. You hear light talking coming from down the hall so Hoseok must be home in his office. You don't even bother telling him you are home because he hasn't been paying attention to you anyway.

Yunjin was right it wouldn't hurt to greet your new neighbor. The last thing you want is to seem rude and be the only one who has not introduced yourself to him. So, you made chocolate chip cookies since it would be wrong to go empty handed. You walked towards Jungkook’s house with the container in your hand slightly nervous.

You lifted your fist ready to knock but the door swung open before you could. "Hi l'm-oh" Your eyes slightly widened as you looked up at him. He towered over you wearing a white fitted short sleeve shirt which exposed his arm tattoos and muscles. He had black fluffy hair and a lip piercing. You could see the outline of his abs through the shirt and his big doe eyes were so pretty looking down at you.

“Hey…” he spoke with a small smirk plastered on his face. You were not being very discreet when checking him out. It’s not like he was hiding the way he was looking at your boobs either. “Oh Hi... I’m sorry I just.. um I wanted to introduce myself I live right across from you I’m ___. I made you these.” You say softly while sticking out the container. He smiled at you looking at the container then back at you. His smile is so nice holy fuck. “Thank you so much. My hands are dirty so I can't grab the container. Would you mind coming in?” he asked. You shouldn’t, you know you shouldn't go in it's clear that he thinks you're attractive and well you think he is too.. it's just wrong. “Sure.”

“Great thank you. You can put the cookies on the counter I’m going to wash my hands.” he told you letting you walk in first. His place was organized it was way different than you expected. He walked over to his sink and started washing his hands. His hands are even attractive what the fuck.

Yunjin was right... he's exactly your type. shit…

“Why are your hands so dirty.” you ask trying to make small talk. He looks up at you for a moment then nods his head to the direction of the window. You see the black motorcycle with his initials written on the side in a small cursive font. “I’m fixing it. Somethings wrong with the pipe.” Wiping his hands on a small cloth... he still had something black smeared on his jaw and a little on his arm, but you didn't say anything. He walked over to you and stood quiet for a bit.

“Are you doing anything today?” He questioned analyzing your face. You tried to look somewhere else. You didn’t want to make eye contact with him feeling nervous under his gaze. “I have to pick up my son Eun-Woo from school in forty minutes and cook” you admit.

“Oh, you’re a mom huh.” he’s not really asking its more of a statement. The look on his face shockingly does not show any signs of disappointment. “Do you have a husband? I haven’t seen him with you.” he pushes.

“Yea I do. We just… we aren’t going through the best time right now that's all. It happens to a lot of people though.” you tell him trying to reassure yourself realizing you overshared god you hate when you do that. “Hmm… I don’t know how he does it I wouldn’t be able to stay away from you.” he admits playing with a strand of your hair and using his hand to tilt your jaw up. You two look at each other and you know what you are going to do next is wrong, but you can’t help it. His lips crash onto yours and you grab at his arm. The kiss turns into a heated make out session running your hands through his hair. You hesitate for a moment wondering if you should take it further. You start unbuckling his belt slightly pulling his pants down.

"Is this, okay?" you ask pulling away from his lips as he tries leaning forward to kiss you again. "Yes, shit" he answers before reattaching his lips to yours as you softly palm him through his boxers. You push his chest slightly and get on your knee's looking up at him through your lashes. He threw his head back mouth slightly open and his eyes closed. His face alone has you wet.

🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪

jazi’s note: hii omg I’m so excited to release this fic I’ve had the idea for a while, but I recently realized that I want to put it out. Sorry, if it is not the best it is my first time writing a fic so, please be patient with my writing journey. I hope to put out more fics and I want them to get better as I go. Reposts, likes, comments, & follows are well appreciated love you all hope you have an amazing day!! :)

(Also, I can start a taglist if anyone is interested?! If you would like to be tagged, send an ask and lmk!! & if anyone decides to use the banner, please give me credit!!🤍)

taglist for ‘Milf’ is closed

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Angel

PAIRING | Boyfriend!Sebastian Stan x Girlfriend!Virgin!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.3K

SUMMARY | Dating Sebastian is a dream come true, and you want to take your relationship to the next level officially. As you're on a beautiful vacation in Hawaii with your boyfriend, you decide to give yourself to him entirely, catching him by surprise. What you don't know, however, is that he has a surprise for you, too, making it officially a vacation never to forget. 

RATING | Explicit (E)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Established relationship, use of nickname (Angel), age gap

SMUT | Losing of virginity, nipple play, oral (F receiving), protected sex, aftercare

REQUEST | @sergeantbarnessdoll Boyfriend!Sebastian Stan x Girlfriend!Reader, the reader is ready to lose her virginity and Sebastian says the sweetest things to her during and after

A/N | Thank you so much for this sweet request, @sergeantbarnessdoll! This request is so sweet, and I hope I could do it justice with this idea! It really got me wanting more of this man, and I also couldn't stop drooling over the GIF, so you're all very welcome for that! This is proofread by @ccbsrmsf1, for which I'm eternally grateful 💜

EVENTS Masterlist | @fluffbruary Fluffbruary '24 | Angel Masterlist | @sebastianstanbingo | Free space Masterlist | @sweetspicybingo Sweethearts | Take my hand Masterlist | @slumberpartybingo | Would you rather... Share a bath OR a shower

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Source

Main Masterlist | Sebastian Stan Masterlist

Sebastian took you on a beautiful summer vacation to Hawaii for two weeks as a little getaway. Life has been stressful for both of you, and this is the perfect way to unwind. Now, you're walking back from dinner, your dress flowing beautifully in the wind and your hands intertwined.

The sun is starting to set, casting the island in a beautiful golden glow, and you look over at Sebastian, only to find him looking back at you with a look of pure adoration on his face. A broad smile lights up your face as you lean in for a small kiss, which he happily reciprocates.

"Thank you for everything, Seb; I couldn't have thought of a better way to spend my vacation than with you by my side," you tell him, a soft blush spreading on his beautifully tanned skin. He looks like a sunkissed god with the sun's glow, and your heart skips a beat, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy.

From the moment you first met Sebastian through a mutual friend, you two have had a fantastic connection that has grown deeper over the last few years. It was only natural for the two of you to start dating, and both of you are ready to take the next step in your relationship, though that looks quite different for you both.

"There's no need to thank me, Angel. There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do for you, and I love you so much. I'm fortunate to call you my girlfriend," Sebastian says, his eyes flicking from your eyes to your mouth and back up before leaning in and capturing them in a gentle yet breathtaking kiss.

The rest of the stroll back to the hotel room was filled with sweet words, loving touches, admiring glances, and, above all else - over too soon for your liking. As soon as Sebastian has opened the hotel room door, you slip in, ready to open the big doors leading to the attached balcony overlooking the ocean.

"Seb?" You say as you turn around, the soft light from the moon making him look like he's glowing, and your breath hitches slightly, taking in the beauty of the man in front of you. His shirt is unbuttoned, every curve and ridge of his muscles on display.

"What's on your mind, Angel?" he asks with a quirked brow, and for a short moment, it is like your brain has shortcircuited, and you forgot what you were about to say. He chuckles as he walks over to you, grabbing your hands and rubbing the backs of them lovingly with his thumb.

"I- I want you, Sebastian, all of you," you whisper to him, your eyes squeezed shut as you're a little afraid of his reactions. You two have had long conversations about not being ready to be that intimate yet, but lately, something inside you has changed, and you can't wait to give yourself to Sebastian like that. You know he will take the best care of you, and now you don't want to be apart from him any longer.

"You already have all of me, my beautiful Angel," he answers, and it is not what you expected him to say, and you lift your head to look at him.

"That's not what I meant, Sebastian; I mean that I'm ready to have sex with you," your voice trailing off near the end. It's not so much that you're scared of his reaction, but talking about sex has never come easy to you, so you're a little embarrassed when bringing it up.

"Are you sure? I'm okay with it, but only if you're 100 percent sure about it, too," he says, his hand cupping your cheek gently as he lifts your head to look at him. As you look into his beautifully blue eyes, you're reminded of the ocean outside, and all you see is love.

"I'm sure, Sebastian, please," you say, and after a slight nod, he closes the distance between the two of you. His lips capture yours in a sweet, soft, and gentle kiss that has your head spinning a little from the anticipation. Your hands glide under his open shirt, letting it glide from his shoulders until it hits the floor.

"Let's get you out of these clothes, Angel," Sebastian whispers, taking his time to take off your dress and placing a generous amount of kisses on every exposed inch of skin he can reach. His fingers glide over your warm, sunkissed skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps until you're entirely bare in front of him.

"I still can't believe I have someone as gorgeous as you to call mine," he says with a slight smirk after he takes a step back to look at you, reaching out for your hand in the process.

"Take my hand, Angel," he tells you, and you do, allowing him to guide you to the bed. After being told to get comfortable on the bed, you find your place, your head on the pillows with your hair splayed like a halo. Your nipples are pebbled under his sight, and when he climbs over you, still dressed in his shorts and underwear, a wave of arousal flows throughout your body.

He leans down to leave a trail of kisses, starting on your lips before moving to your jaw and the column of your throat, where he sucks a few light purple bruises, which will disappear soon. All you know right now is how good you're feeling, and you couldn't care less about him giving you hickeys.

"S-Seb," you moan softly as his lips wrap around your nipple. Your back arches against him, and he groans in response, his hard cock straining against the zipper of his shorts. To give himself a little relief, he takes them off since they're the most constricting, but his lips never leave your nipple as he continues to softly nibble and suck, making you feel like you're on cloud nine.

Once his hands are free again, he glides them over your curves until they stop at your hips, squeezing gently.

"Let's see how amazing you taste, Angel; bet it'll be the sweetest thing I've ever tasted," Sebastian tells you in a deep voice laced with his arousal between the kisses trailing down your body. When he's reached your pussy your legs are carefully spread by him, and he takes his place as he looks at your glistening folds, his mouth watering at the sight.

"Such a perfect pussy," he groans before diving in, his tongue licking a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, a deep groan leaving his chest at the taste.

"God, you taste like heaven, Angel! You have such a sweet, delicious pussy for me," he tells you, and all you can do is moan, the fact that the doors are open long forgotten. Sebastian doesn't mind. However, he wants everyone to hear your beautiful sounds since he pulls them from you.

His arms are wrapped around your thighs to keep you in place as he takes his time eating you out, making sure you're nice and ready for when he will slide in later, and you can feel your orgasm building up quickly. Your moans get louder and more broken, your eyes are shut tightly, and your body is already shaking from how intense your pleasure is.

"Cum for me, Angel, cum for me like the good girl I know you are!" Sebastian spurs you on, and as soon as his lips wrap around your clit, you cum with a scream of his name, and Sebastian couldn't be more proud. He's making you scream like that and wants the world to know.

You're panting loudly as Sebastian releases your thighs, and your entire body feels like it's made of noodles, but it's a great feeling. You've had orgasms before when you took care of yourself, but they were never this intense, making you wonder why you waited so long to be intimate with Sebastian.

"How's my girl feeling?" he asks as he plops beside you, his long fingers tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. A big grin is tugging on your lips as you look at him, a warm feeling spreading through you as you lean in for a kiss.

"Great, actually," you tell him, and you two cuddle as you come down from your high. "But... I think now it's my turn to make you feel good," you tell him, your hand already wandering to the hem of his boxer briefs.

"Oh, my sweet Angel, we can take care of my needs another time; right now, it is all about you," he tells you, and you feel a little embarrassed about it. All you wanted to do was return the favor but to have him tell you that made you blush deeply, and you nodded before looking away.

"Hey, it's okay! There's no need to be embarrassed right now, but I don't want to overwhelm you with doing everything at once," he explains, and you nod as you look at him. When he leans in for a small kiss, you're already feeling better but also getting a little impatient as you let out a soft whine.

Before you know it, Sebastian is bare as he sits on his knees between your legs, and you're taking a good look at him. His hard cock is standing at attention against his tanned skin, pre-cum leaking from the tip and a large vein running along the bottom that you want to run your fingers and tongue over.

Before he leans forward, he rips open a condom packet that he brought with him, and he rolls it onto his cock. You two have been exclusive for quite a while, but he doesn't want to take any risks regardless, seeing how you're both not ready to have children yet.

"Ready, Angel?" Sebastian asks, and when you nod, he leans forward, grabbing hold of himself as he lines up with your entrance. He doesn't push in yet; instead, he looks at your face for discomfort, which he doesn't find.

"I'm ready, Sebastian," you tell him, your hand lying on his bicep as he slowly, gently pushes in, making you moan at the stretch of him. The feeling of his cock splitting you open has you almost going cross-eyed from the pleasure, and he carefully feeds inch after inch of him to your hungry pussy.

"That's it, Angel, you take my cock so beautifully. You look gorgeous when you're stuffed full," he groans against your lips, licking into your mouth as he bottoms out. You're both swallowing each other's sounds as you're getting used to him inside you and as Sebastian changes his position on top of you, he nudges your sweet spot inside you.

"S-Seb! Fuck!" another wave of arousal floods through you, having you moan loudly. They only intensify once he starts slowly thrusting in and out of you, and you can already feel your orgasm building quickly. With every glide in and out of your body, you clench around him, adding to his arousal, too.

"God, your pussy feels like heaven, taking me so well, too," he groans before picking up the pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. It doesn't take long for both of you to reach your highs, and you fall over the edge together, Sebastian shooting his load into the condom before taking it off and throwing it in the trash.

As he collapses onto the bed, he pulls you with him, holding you close as you're both letting yourself recover from everything that just happened. The post-sex cuddles are Sebastian's favorite kind, and now that he can have them with you, the love of his life, he feels on top of the world.

"Do you want to shower or a bath, Angel?" he asks, and you opt for a bath, which Sebastian runs for you. When you let yourself sink in the warm water, he is gone to grab one more thing, and after, he joins in to have a relaxing bath together.

"I'm so lucky to have you, Angel, so fucking lucky to have an amazing woman by my side every single day," he whispers in your ear as he massages your body, and you melt into his touches with your back against his chest.

"I'm lucky too, Seb; I never would have thought I would end up loving someone as amazing, caring, and sweet as you," you tell him, and that's when Sebastian can't hold back any longer.

"Marry me, Angel," he tells you, and you shoot forward, looking back at him with shock. It's not that you don't want to marry him, but you're caught off-guard by his question, and you chuckle at the thought. He asked you to marry him in a bathtub!

"I want you to marry me, Angel. There's no one I love more than you, and I want you to become my wife," he says, and you nod, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes as Sebastian grabs the ring box from the side of the tub, the ring quickly placed on your finger.

"I love you so much!" you tell him before capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. The next day, you post a photo on Instagram of your hand with the ring and the beautiful sight out of your hotel room in the background.

My forever ❤️ @ imsebastianstan is what the caption says; everyone is going wild. Congratulations are coming throughout the day, and you can't wait to become his wife. That same day, you never leave the hotel room, as Sebastian can't stop making love to you and calling you his future wife.

"I love you so much, my Angel, more than you'll ever know," he groans before his second orgasm of the day, and there will be many more throughout the rest of your vacation. It's one you'll never forget, and to top it all off, it'll be the start of the rest of your lives together.

[dreadsuitsamus]

Bleach Men Taking Your Baby to the Grocery Store Headcanons

author's note: yes the premise is random but it's also very cute and perfectly in line with my recent onslaught of baby fever. also, the banners in this post were created by the always amazing @actuallysaiyan!! thank you for the gorgeous banners, babe! 🩷🩷🩷

pairings: kensei muguruma x reader, byakuya kuchiki x reader, grimmjow jaegerjaquez x reader, renji abarai x reader, ichigo kurosaki x reader

warnings: children ages 5 and younger and grimmjow's parenting lmao this is mostly fluff and some mischief mixed in from the babies

Kensei is definitely the tough parent of the two of you, and he relishes in that fact

But goddammit do those baby eyes make him waver

As he carries little Mila into the store, he tells her they're only there for necessities

No candy, no sugary cereals, only what you've tasked him to buy for dinner

Despite being only three and a half, however, Mila has a pretty good idea of how to get her way with Kensei

It's gotten slightly less effective since the pacifiers have been removed from her arsenal, but anything that cracks her dad's tough exterior is remarkable as is

It starts off innocently enough, though soon the way she sings her little song and bops her head around becomes rife with intent

"Daddy, can has hug?" She blinks up at him, holding her arms up

Either he's willfully choosing to fall into the trap, or Kensei is merely blind in the face of his precious girl

"Of course, baby." Kensei picks her up from the cart and kisses her wonderfully chubby cheek, leading the cart behind him as he continues through the store with Mila hooked on his hip

Mila curls up, humming as her eyes scan the shelves for something she wants

"Hold Momma's list for Daddy, okay?"

Mila's little fingers hold the list carefully, and soon Kensei is at a crossroad

"Broth. What kind of broth?" He mutters, fishing his cell phone from his pocket to call you

As usual, it turns into a bit of a squabbling match. He thinks remembering every little detail is silly, and you think you've made this dish so many times he should know you need chicken broth

Kensei is sufficiently annoyed by the time the phone call ends, and Mila strikes then

"Daddy, can has kiss?"

"Yes, baby." She gets a kiss on either cheek, and the kiss she gives his cheek right back is just about the final nail in the coffin

With Kensei holding her, she's able to reach the shelf and snag a little box of animal crackers

"Daddy, can has this?"

Played by the fucking toddler again!! That's three times this week!

"... Don't tell your brothers." Kensei sighs, hanging his head in shame

It's not all bad though; he does get another sweet kiss from his princess

Byakuya is a strict but ultimately fair father

Little Jasmine has grown up under his watchful eye, though through that she's certainly learned just how many of his limits she can press and how to get around them

Going to the grocery store is rare, and even more so if you're not present for the journey

But it's vacation time, and you're busy setting up the cabin for your family's stay, so Byakuya has been tasked with gathering enough groceries to make it through dinner and the morning's breakfast

Byakuya holds Jasmine’s hand and they walk inside together, Byakuya using a tissue to pick up one of the small hand baskets. There's no telling the last time this thing has been sanitized!

“What would you like for dinner tonight?” Byakuya asks the five year old, and Jasmine hums thoughtfully

How can she end the first day of this vacation with a delicious banana split?

Appealing to her father's tastes will increase the likelihood of success, and her father is quite fond of spicy foods…

“Can we have curry?”

The light in his eyes isn't missed by the girl, and she can practically taste an ice cream sundae with a waffle bowl already

“You're becoming more accustomed to spices, I see.” Byakuya hums and begins to survey the store's offerings, whereas Jasmine is mentally preparing her list for dessert

“Daddy?” Jasmine dials up the sweetness in her tone while Byakuya examines the various cuts of chicken on display

“Yes?” He hums

“Can we have a treat tonight?”

“What sort of treat?”

“A surprise treat. Please, Daddy?”

Byakuya pauses. He's no fan of sweets, and in general sugar is limited in the Kuchiki household

But she did say please

“Mm… I suppose.”

Byakuya doesn't meet your eyes when he and Jasmine return from the store with more ingredients for ice cream sundaes than dinner and breakfast combined

He is such a sucker, but he's happy to be played when he receives his banana split with a chocolate syrup drawing of his beloved Wakame Taishi from his darling daughter

Renji tries his best to be a strict father, but his determination wavers frequently. He wanted for many things as a child, and as a parent he doesn't wish to push that same feeling on his child as long as he's capable of providing a warm, loving home

Not to mention, that damn two year is old is just so cute it makes his heart melt at the mere sight of the toddler

“C’mon, honey, gotta get some soup for Mommy.” Renji murmurs as he carefully takes little Rin from his car seat, carrying him into the store on his hip

“Why?” is Rin’s favorite question right now, and Renji’s eye twitches a bit

“Because her tummy is upset.”

“Why?”

“... I don't know.”

“Why?”

“I don't know!”

“Why?”

Renji gently pinches his son's lips between his fingers. “Shhh… Quiet time.”

But of course, the moment he lets go, Rin is back at it again

“Why?”

“Because now Daddy has a headache.”

Rin, as gently as he can while simultaneously not managing much grace in the act, pats his father's sunglasses that sit atop his head

“All bedder?”

Renji's lip practically wobbles at the sweetness. “Yes, Daddy's all better. Thank you, sweetie.”

Rin rests his head against his father, playing with the Renji’s chain while he surveys all of the varieties of soup, Renji occasionally pulling the chain away from the baby's open mouth

Rin whines after his third attempt to eat the necklace, so Renji quickly grabs the first can of chicken noodle soup he sees and makes a dash for the checkout. No baby meltdowns in public, for the love of God

Renji gently bounces the baby, pleading softly with him to calm down. It's not working very well, however, and these damn checkout lines aren't moving at all!

Desperation wins and Renji's grabbing a lollipop before he knows it, tearing the wrapping off and popping the sucker into Rin’s teeny mouth

His plan to calm the baby works, and by the time he's actually able to check out and purchase the soup, the small pop is already gone and the tantrum is starting to blossom again

And just as Renji gets the baby strapped back into his carseat, he checks his phone to see a text you sent twenty minutes ago that practically sends his eyes popping out of his skull

Can you pick up a pregnancy test too?

He glances over at the toddler, and can practically see the boy as a big brother already

Even with a fussy baby in round two of the long lines, Renji's smile doesn't waver and he just kisses and coos at the hopefully soon-to-be big brother

Grimmjow is an interesting parent. Much like how every day with a four year old is a mystery, every day with Grimmjow is a deep dive into the unknown

So when sending the man and his mini-me to the grocery store, you're not quite sure what they're going to come home with. Hopefully it at least includes the items on the list, otherwise dinner is going to be very different from what you've planned

“Oi, keep up!” Grimm looks over his shoulder, the four year old having been distracted by a vending machine

“Want snack.”

“Too bad. Let's go.”

The toddler’s stare is a little too lead paint-y for Grimmjow's liking

“Zen.” Grimmjow looks on, unimpressed as he fishes a coin from his pocket. “Fine, brat. You win, you get a snack. I win, I get a snack.”

That gets the boy to smile, clapping his hands as he jumps in excitement

Grimmjow smirks. “Heads I win, tails you lose.”

The coin is flipped off of Grimmjow's thumb and he catches it easily, Zen waiting with bated breath for the results. Does Daddy win or does he lose??

Grimm sucks his teeth, shaking his head and tucking the quarter back into his pocket. “Heads I win. Tough luck, kid. Maybe next time.”

Zen pouts, watching his father slip a dollar into the vending machine and press the buttons for a honey bun. “Aw man…”

“C’mon.” Grimmjow opens up the snack, taking a big bite and grabbing the front of Zen’s coat, carrying him inside of the store like a handbag

The boy can't help but giggle as he looks up at his father; he loves air jail!

“You're in jail. Stop laughing, fuckin’ psycho.” Grimm shakes his son a bit, hiding his own laughter into the next bite of his honey bun. He's a hardass, but that baby's laugh is precious and melts him like ice cream on a sunny day

Heads turn at the way Grimmjow carries Zen, but Grimm is highly unbothered by such judgment. His kid is happy and healthy, and anyone that thinks otherwise can kiss his ass, for all he cares

“You got the list?” Grimm looks down at Zen, the boy fishing out the neatly-folded post-it note you lovingly tucked into his jacket pocket

Grimmjow perks a brow as he reads off the ingredients you've listed. “Say, kid—” he looks down at his son. “Whaddya say we ditch the list and get some pizza instead?”

Zen claps happily at the idea and Grimm grins menacingly, crushing up the grocery list and tossing it on the floor as he hoists his boy over his shoulder, stuffing the last bite of the honey bun in his baby's mouth whilst flipping off a scandalized woman at the checkouts

Growing up with two younger sisters was good for something after all, Ichigo thinks as he wrangles his twin girls through the parking lot with relative ease

The three year olds are stubborn and independent, having insisted they walk instead of having daddy carry them! But they still want to hold his hands, of course

why no he is not melting like a lava cake, why do you ask?

The girls gasp at the sight of a shopping cart with a racecar on the end that's the perfect size for two little ones!

“We don't even need a cart.” Ichigo deadpans, though it's in one ear and out the other as the babies pile into the little racecar, turning the steering wheels and beeping the (thankfully noiseless) horns

He feels like an idiot but as the dutiful father he is, Ichigo complies with his girls’ wishes and pushes the cart into the store

Chubby fingers point as little voices call out for candies and trinkets, and Ichigo's quick with each of his responses

“No.”

“I said no.”

“No ma'am!”

He's definitely cleaning their ears out when they get home, because clearly they can't hear him! Why else would they ask for things a million times over, hm?

“Daddy always say no.” Indigo pouts, her sister nodding in agreement. All they want is some candy!! Why is Daddy so mean?

Ichigo sighs in frustration as the aisle he needs to go down is absolutely packed, and he's stuck with this behemoth of a shopping cart. Settling it at the end of the aisle, he kneels down to make eye contact with the girls

“Stay put; I’ll be right back.”

Ichigo quickly rushes down the aisle, weaving between people to get to the pasta section

Now… If only he could remember what shape of pasta you told him to buy

Indigo and Imani look at each other, covering their mouths to hide their mischievous giggles

Those Push Pops they were eyeing are still nearby, and Daddy isn't!

As the tag team they are, Indigo and Imani spring into action, Indigo rushing to get the candy while Imani (who turns up the cuteness to a ten!) rushes down the aisle to her father

Ichigo frowns and picks up Imani, scolding her for leaving the cart

It isn't exactly effective, however, as the baby eyes and the cooing let her off the hook easily

When they get back to the cart after Ichigo remembers which pasta you've requested, he sets Imani back into the racecar

Indigo slips a blue Push Pop into her twin's hand, the two of them sharing a conspiratorial smile

They almost get away with it too, though when Ichigo's strapping them into their car seats he notices the lollipops

“Stop stealing!!!!”

These girls will surely be the reason he takes medication for his blood pressure, and he dreads the day when they become teenagers!

[letstripdotcom]

shut up my moms calling- chris sturniolo x fem!reader

a/n i love naming my fics after songs bc then i listen to them on replay while i write.

summary- coming home from college means seeing the kid you’ve hated most your whole life. chris sturniolo. you’ve hated everything about his existence since the beginning of 6th grade when you transferred to somerville. the summer after your freshman year of college is when everything starts to change.

warnings- long(ish) smut ofc, mention of toxic relationship, choking, pet names (princess, baby, pretty girl) overstimulation {i think that’s all!}

-

6th grade

i just moved from oklahoma to a small town outside of boston called somerville. it was my first day of 6th grade and i was everything but excited to go. i had a good amount of friends in oklahoma, and absolutely none in massachusetts. if it were up to me i would have stayed, but i had no choice because my mom got offered better work down here.

i walked into the crowded classroom with my schedule in hand. “is this mrs sawyers class?” i ask quietly. “yes it is, and you must be y/n?” she looks up at me through her glasses. “y-yes” i utter nervously. “nice to meet you, have a seat wherever” I walk to a more empty side of the classroom and take a seat.

“newww girlll” i voice calls out in a mocking tone when i sit down. when i look up i lock eyes with a boy with short brown hair. hes sat with his 2 triplet brothers and another one of their friends. “yeah?” i say quietly. he starts immediately attacking me with questions

“where are you from? why are you here? what school did you go to last? did you have friends” i’m overwhelmed as questions pour out of his mouth. “chris you’re freaking her out” his brother says. “i’m nick.” he smiles at me. “that’s chris, obviously, and that’s matt”

“hey nice to meet you” the third one says. “oh and that’s nate.” nick says. i nod my head looking at the 4 boys. “i’m y/n” i say. “y/n?” chris says under his breath almost inaudible. “excuse me?” i say turning my head to look at him. “what nothing.” he tries to play it off

“who decided on the name y/n, your mom or your dad?” chris asks with a disgusted but confused look on his face. “it was my mom’s best friend’s name before she passed.” i explained. “tough” he muttered. the whole rest of the class period was filled with his snarky remarks and questions.

over time, as i got closer to matt and nick, the snarky remarks from chris turned into full on arguments. anything i would say would lead to chris having something else to say. i could tell him my head hurts and he would say something along the lines of “maybe if you wouldn’t think so hard about what to say and just shut the fuck up for once that wound be a problem.” i would just roll my eyes and go back to talking to nick

-

this behavior lasted all the way through senior year of high school. i stayed close with nick and matt, which means i was stuck with chris. we got in several heated arguments over the years and they all led to me leaving the triplets house at 2 in the morning because i couldn’t physically be around chris.

our last big fight was the weekend before i left for college. nick wanted to host a small party of about 15 friends for me since i wouldn’t be seeing him again til the summer. we were setting up the decorations and chris was being extra annoying.

“chris can you actually help out and stop acting like a fucking toddler.” i snapped at him while he stood under me watching me hang up a banner. “maybe if you weren’t nagging at me every 30 seconds.” he complained. “i wouldn’t be nagging if you wouldn’t stand in my way instead of actually contributing to anything in this world” i yelled, stepping off the ladder as i finished hanging the banner.

“you act like i wanna do this party. i don’t give a fuck about you.” he spat “i might not even show up tonight because you’ve been a bitch all day long!” my heart dropped and i felt a lump form in my throat. bitch? me and chris never got along but he never called me a bitch

he knew how much i hated it because of a past relationship i had. during junior year, i was in a super toxic relationship with a kid from our school. i was so naive i had thought he had actually liked me but it turns out i was wrong. we would constantly argue and he would gaslight me into forgiving him.

i stared at chris blankly as tears formed in my eyes. “y/n i-“ “fuck you chris.” i cut him off “and yeah i think it’s best you don’t show up tonight.” i ran upstairs to the bathroom and wiped away my tears. i checked in the mirror and adjusted myself before going back down.

-

present day

i hung up the phone with nick and got in my car. i was on my way home from college for the summer, and i finally got to see my best friend. he’s so excited that he rented out a cabin by the lake for a whole week to celebrate. i haven’t seen any of the triplets since i left, i haven’t seen chris since before the party. chris. my stomach dropped and my heart started pounding when the realization hit that i would be seeing chris.

i didn’t want to see him at all. nick said he changed a lot, and maybe he did, but you can never be too sure. and he did change a lot physically. chris was much more attractive then he was in highschool, not that he’s ever been unattractive, other than his personality.

about a few hours later i called nick to tell him i was close to the cabin. i pulled in and nick darted outside. “omgggg it’s been forever” i squealed as i got out of my car. “you have to see the place!” he grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the back of the house. “there’s a hot tub, a massive pool and all of this space.” he gawked at the house. we went inside as he gave me a tour of the house. “this is your room!” he announced pointing inside.

i looked around and it was absolutely beautiful. “thank you so much nick this is amazing” i hugged him. “don’t thank me too much” he said “i had to put you in the room across the hall from chris, i hope you don’t mind because i’ll work something out”

“no that’s totally fine, i’ll just pretend he isn’t even here” i smiled. he smiled back “okay i’ll be downstairs getting everything ready bc we’re gonna have movie night tonight just like high school.” he said as he left my room.

after i got settled in, i took a shower. i picked out my pajamas which was just a big t shirt and shorts and i headed down stairs happily. “there she is!” matt exclaimed, giving me a hug. “matt i missed you so much!” i said hugging him back

after i pulled away, i made eye contact with chris, who was glaring at me and matt. i shot him a calm smile and looked away. wow chris got really hot. you thought to yourself. no, chris is awful. but i couldn’t help but notice his fluffy hair and his defined jawline.

i noticed his sun kissed face, which made his freckles stand out. god i could only imagine what he looked like with my leg- no. remember what chris said to you. i snapped myself out of my thoughts and sat by nick on the the couch. he handed me a blanket and i cuddled up next to him and focused my eyes on the screen

my focus only lasted for about 30 seconds before my mind was back on chris. why hasn’t he spoke to me? because he hates me. duh. i wonder what he’s thinking right now. why am i so worried about chris? “you okay?” nick asks from beside me. “yeah i’m fine” i say in a convincing reassuring tone.

after the movie ends, i say goodnight and i head up to my room. i get situated in my bed, and i try to fall asleep but i can’t. my mind is flooded with thoughts of chris, and the next thing i know my hand is down my pants. what has happened to me?

this is chris sturniolo, the kid who’s bullied me for 7 years. i never imagined i would be getting off to the thought of him at 2 in the morning. i need to go to bed, but i physically can’t.

i get up out of bed and dig through my bags. i grab my pink swim suit and put it on. a get a towel from my bathroom and quietly head down stairs. i go out the back door and get in the hot tub. i zone out and try to find peace of mind.

i sit there with my eyes closed until i hear someone else getting in the water. i open my eyes, only to see chris. great. this is exactly what i need right now. “look y/n” his voice breaks me out of my thoughts. “i’m really sorry for the way i’ve treated you, you didn’t deserve any of it. but, we’re older now so i wanna put the past in the past”

“i forgive you” i say flatly. “really?” he seems genuinely shocked. “can i kiss you?” i asked immediately regretting what i said. “what?” is all he says before i grab my towel and run inside.

i lay on my bed for a split second before i hear a knock. i know it’s chris, but i still go to the door and answer it. i look up at him with a guilty look on my face. before i speak he’s slamming his face into mine.

he kisses me very passionately like he’s been waiting is whole life. he pushes me into my room and shuts the door behind us. he turns me and pushes me against is as he kisses me harder. one of his hands come up and squeeze my neck slightly

i moan into his mouth causing him to squeeze harder. i moan again growing super wet between my legs. one of my hands come up to tug on his hair, while the other one makes its way up his shirt.

with one hand still around my neck, he guides me over to my bed and lays me down flat as he climbs on top of me. “can i?” he asks, toying with the strap of my top. “pls chris” i whine. he unties my top and yanks it off, his mouth immediately meeting my nipple, his available hand massaging my other breast.

i throw my head back and moan as he does whatever he wants. next thing i know, his hand is coming off my throat, and down my body. he stops abt my bottoms before looking at me for confirmation. i nod desperately. his cold hands slip into my bottoms as his fingers meet my clit.

i’m a moaning mess at this point, begging for whatever contact i can get. “god you’re fucking soaked.” he says, his voice raspy and quiet. “fuck chris please touch me.” i beg “whatever you want princess” he says before putting his ring and middle finger inside of me. he quickly pumps in and out for a few seconds before i cut him of. “chris wait” i say

“are you okay did i do something wrong?” he questions. “no but i have an idea.” i tell him. i then instruct him to lay on his back and put his head on the pillow. i watch as he does what i say. once he’s situated i ask him “can i sit on your face?”

i laughed a little inside about how innocent it sounded. “of course princess” he says. i make my way closer to him as i put my legs on either side of his head. i slightly lower myself down, enough to make contact.

my legs shake as i try to hold myself up while he eats me. he lifts me up a little and says “don’t be shy baby, suffocate me.” he grips my waist harder as he pulls me down all the way onto his face. my back arches at the contact.

chris eats me like i was his last meal, i grip the headboard, and struggle to stay quiet while his nose rubs my clit. “chris i’m g-gonna cum” i whine. one of his hands come off my waist and grabs my ass, massaging it. my legs squeeze his head. and i moan uncontrollably as i release all over his face.

after i come down from my high, i get off and straddle his waist. i lean down and kiss him, tasting myself. i grind on his hard on while we kiss, making him grunt. i reach my hand down and palm his boxers as his body twitches.

i go for the band of his swim shorts and slowly pull them down, exposing his hard dick. i look him in the eyes, to get his consent “y/n please” is all i need to hear before i slowly stroke him. he moans and tosses his head back

after a few more strokes, i sit up and line myself up with him. i slowly lower myself onto him, wincing at his size as i feel him in me. once i’m fully sat, i sit still for a minute to adjust. once i’m ready i start bouncing up and down. he puts one hand on my waist to guide me, as the other one makes it way to mu sensitive clit.

“ughh chris don’t stop” i whine as i ride him. my words make him rub my clit even faster than before. my eyes are now practically stuck in the back of my head as i moan out for him. when i’m about to finish, i clench around him, making his mouth fall open. i come all over him, as he helps me through my high

“good job princess.” he grunts i keep riding him until i feel him twitch. “you feel so good pretty girl. i’m almost there.” i clench again, becoming slightly overstimulated. just then he releases, inside of me. after he comes down i slide off and plop on my bed.

“you okay princess?” he asks with concern “overstimulated” is all i can bring myself to mutter. chris picks me up and lays me in a more comfortable spot on the bed. he then heads to my bathroom and comes back with a towel. he helps clean me off before he finds the shorts and shirt i had on earlier.

he helps me put them on, then he puts his shorts on and goes to his room. i feel sad in that moment. how could he to all of that just to leave? just then he enters my room with pajama pants on. “don’t worry i’m not going anywhere.” he whispers as he crawls into bed with me.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n: kinda love this what do u think?

[manicpixiedreamcurl]

The More You Give ❧ (Part VIII)

Pairing | Eddie x shy!reader Warnings | 18+ only. Do not interact if you are underage. Roleplay (PrincessxWannabe Usurper lmao), sexual fantasies (including rockstarxgroupie), Eddie says some weird possessive stuff but reader likes it, oral (M receiving), P in V sex, dom!Eddie, sexual guilt as per, there’s aftercare. Word Count | 10,400 A/N | Nobody ask me about the timeline of this story, either in the fic or how long it takes me to write it. Taglist Previous Chapter

❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦  

The air is stuffy, despite the growing chill outside. The last days of Summer are at least a week gone now, and with Autumn comes heated stores. An ABBA song is playing on the main floor, filtering through enough for you to make out the tune. It’s the sort of thing your Mom plays in the car all the time, your mind following the words even though you can’t quite hear them over the buzzing ceiling lights. 

I try to capture every minute, the feeling in it. Slipping through my fingers- 

The curtains pull back, the sound of metal over metal dragging you to full attention. May’s eyes are bright with excitement as she twirls, showing off how the strapless black dress fits around her waist and flares out at her hips. 

“It’s perfect, right?” She says, smoothing it down only to twirl and puff the skirt up again. “Ooh, let me see with the jacket.” 

You search through the bag at your feet for the cropped jacket she’d found earlier, then watch as she pulls it over her shoulders. She fluffs her hair and poses in the mirror at the end of the changing room hallway. “I mean it actually is perfect, right?”

“For sure, you can totally see who you are already.” 

“Right? And then I can just backcomb my hair a little. My Mom’s gonna lend me her scarf. God knows what earrings I’ll wear, but I can work it out. Definitely can’t get anything new after this,” she finishes, turning her head and pulling at the tag on her back to double check the price. She pulls a face before tucking it away gingerly.

“That bad?” 

“That bad. Even with 30% off.” May smooths her hands over the skirt again, turning once more to the mirror. Her smile lights up her pretty face. “But totally worth it.” 

Once the dress is folded and wrapped in tissue paper by the woman at the counter, paid for with what seems like every spare penny in May’s purse, attention moves to your costume. “Okay, Fairy God Mother,” May says, linking her arm with yours. “Game plan. Where do we need to go?”

“I think just the costume store. I have a blue dress I can use. But I’d like some wings and a wand. Maybe a tiara, if I can afford it.”

“Ugh, you’re gonna look so cute. Are you sure you don’t want to come to Tommy’s party?”

“The whole reason I’m dressing up is for Grace,” you reason, spotting the orange banner reading City of Fright, which appears in the same spot every year mid-September and vanishes November first. 

Gone are ABBA’s lilting tones, replaced with stock Halloween music, the occasional creepy laugh and thunder clap. The entire front of the store is complete costumes, wrapped up in plastic and hanging on metal rods, but once you reach the shelves at the back, you are surrounded by an array of vampire teeth, witches hats and face paints. 

“Eddie’s renting Theatre of Blood,” you tell her, not waiting for a reaction before launching into a prepared defence. “It sounds really good. It’s about an actor who takes revenge on his critics by murdering them like Shakespearian deaths - drowning in Malmsey wine, that kind of thing. He picked it cause, you know, he thought I’d like it.” 

“Okay, but she’ll be in bed by what? Eight?” May asks, wandering around the table of paraphernalia as you start thumbing through fairy wings piled next to fake blood bags, searching for the right blue. “You could come after.”

There’s a moment of silence, then she sighs softly. “Okay, I will say it’s kind of cute that he picked that. In a weird, not really that cute cause it’s a horror movie about gruesome murders, sort of way.” 

You stifle a grin, chancing a look at her over the table. “That sounded…almost like a compliment?”

“Almost,” she agrees, walking back round to your side. Then, before you can answer, she has seized a shiny silver plastic tiara and is reaching out to place it gently on your hair. “There. Fit for a Princess.”

You shake your head, laughing. “What about a Fairy Godmother?”

May hums, grabbing a set of the net and wire wings and pulling them over her arms. “I’m the fairy now!” She declares, raising her chin and going up on tiptoes to whirl around the racks, wings shaking behind her. “Here to make all your Halloween costume dreams come true!” 

Your heart warms, a giggle escaping as she peers curiously at the rubber masks and cat ears in character, mumbling about the strange habits of humans. 

“Oh please, fairy godmother! I need a wand if I’m going to look anything like the real thing!” 

“A wand, of course!” She cries dramatically. “No true fairy would be seen dead without their wand.” You watch her scurry on tip toe around until she comes to a display of wands of various colours, topped by stars and hearts, sequined tassels and glittery handles. She wiggles her fingers above them, picks out one with a simple silver star and travels back to you gracefully. You take it from her with a flourish. “There, and now your wings.” She helps you into your own pair, then turns and throws a graceful hand into the air. “Now, we fly!” 

You flit about after her, laughing at her with every pause she takes to frown disapprovingly at fake scars and rubber spiders. She stops in front of a Tinkerbell costume, pointing with a surprised smile at the model on the package. “Hey, I know her!”

You snort a laugh and it sets her off, all attempts to stifle your laughter only making it worse. Your giggles are only beginning to settle when you feel the sudden awareness of being watched tickle the back of your neck. 

“Uh, hi girls.” 

Your heart drops. Caroline stands, a hand over her mouth, barely covering the smirk. “You look like you’re having…fun.”

Suddenly, the clear elastic of the wings is too tight around your shoulders. You can feel the crooked angle of the tiara atop your head, close to slipping off entirely. The wand in your hand isn’t silver now, just chipped paint on plastic. 

Next to you, May is wrenching off her wings, laughing airily. “Just messing around,” she assures, folding them up and holding them with a tight fist at her hip. “You costume shopping?”

Caroline looks around at where you are. “I mean, obviously. Not for me, though, for Ethan,” she sighs. “You know boys, no interest in shopping.” She sets her stare on you, eyes scanning from the crooked tiara downwards. “Are you girls dressing up together?”

Your throat feels blocked, leaving you just to shake your head. May answers for you both. “No, no. Like I said, we’re just messing around. So we should probably put this stuff back.” She slides her wings into the space between some hanging masks before elbowing you into action. You’ve abandoned the tiara and wand and are in the process of sliding off the wings when she adds, coolly, “I’m actually going as Madonna.”

Caroline’s smirk falls, replaced at terrifying speed with a deep frown. “What? You can’t, I’m doing Madonna. I’ve got a veil and everything. Ethan’s going to be Sean Penn.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m going as her in Desperately Seeking Susan, so it’ll be, like, totally different.”

“But I don’t think there should be two Madonna’s,” Caroline continues, almost sounding sympathetic. She crosses her arms, shrugging. “You’ll just have to go as somebody else.”

“Oh,” May says, shoulders falling. “Um, right. I get what you mean.”

You’re not in the habit of arguing with Caroline. It’s been easier, historically, not to contradict her or answer back. But you can feel May deflating beside you, and it tumbles out. “But you won’t look similar or anything, they’re completely different costumes.”

“They’re not though.” She answers with finality. “They’re both Madonna, and the last thing we want is comparisons, right? People talking about who wears it better all night?”

May nods. “You’re right. Totally. I’ll think of something else. No worries.”

“But May, your dress! You can’t return it now, it was on sale!” 

“It’s fine,” May snaps before smiling close mouthed at Caroline. “I can find something else to wear, no issue.”

“You could be fairies together!” Caroline says. “I bet the guys at Tommy’s party would love that.”

“No, no, like I said, we were just messing around,” May says. “Not really my thing. And anyway, she’s not coming on Friday.”

“Oh no!” Caroline pushes her bottom lip out into a pout. “But I haven’t seen you outside of school in ages!”

“I’m babysitting,” you explain, clutching your removed wings in your fists. 

“Oh sure you are, not spending the night with your boyfriend. We hardly see you anymore, I feel like there must be so much detail we’ve all been missing out on. You’ll have to come on the next girls trip, right May? So we can hear all about you and…Eddie.”

Your heart pounds as May nods. “Yeah,” she answers. “Eddie can’t have all your time.”

“Perfect. Well, let me know what you end up doing, May! See you later, girls!”

She flounces away, and May hides her face in her hands. “I can’t believe she saw me doing that.” 

“It’s okay-”

“It’s not!” She says, throwing her hands up. Her eyes shine with frustrated tears. “It’s not okay! Not for me, anyway. It’s different for you, people already think you’re weird.” 

You blink at your friend. Then you look down at the speckled linoleum floor, watch the spots fuzz and blend into each other as the lump in your throat builds. Before five seconds have passed, her arms appear at your sides, pulling you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean that.”

But you know that she did. You know that’s exactly what she thinks. 

For the moment you have to think about what you say now, you imagine calling her out on this. Pushing her away and telling her that she doesn’t have to spend any more time with you, given you embarrass her so much. You’d buy your fairy wings and your crown, walk out with your head held high. 

Maybe she’d call after you, apologise again, say that losing you isn’t worth impressing Caroline or sitting at the cheerleader table.

But maybe any pain she’d feel at the prospect of your friendship ending would only bring out her anger. Maybe she’d swear to never speak to you again. 

If you were somebody else, someone who didn’t love May, maybe you’d take that risk. But you are you, and you’ve loved May since you were five. To you, the only thing worse than feeling hurt yourself is the thought of hurting her back.

So you shake your head at her shoulder, blink away tears and squeeze her tight in your arms. “It’s okay,” you whisper. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, pulling away from her collar that smells the way being seven smelled. You release her, and in turn her arms fall from you. “I get it, you’re just stressed.”

“I know! I don’t know what I’m going to do about my costume!” 

Your heart pangs. You swallow the lump in your throat that’s trying to rise back up. “Well, at least the dress is black,” you say, sniffing quick and quiet. You drag your hands over your eyes, clearing away the wetness clinging to your bottom lashes. Stop it, you think. Stop crying. “Let’s return the jacket, yeah? Then you’ll have money for a witch hat or something.” 

May nods slowly as she thinks it through. “Okay, yeah. Yeah, that works.” She gives you a relieved smile. “God, what would I do without you? Let’s go.”

❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦  

“Well, I didn’t think I wanted glasses because Katie has glasses,” Grace explains, holding her plastic pumpkin, now close to overflowing with candy, in both hands at her stomach. She looks at you with a look too knowing for a seven year old, then continues. “Katie is a tattle tale.”

“I see,” you nod. 

“But I want ones like Jessica’s!” She cries, arms extending with the weight of her treasure trove before she pulls it back up. “They go dark in the sun!”

“It’s not the same,” she whines. “And then when we went to the optom- uhm.”

“But you already have sunglasses,” you reason, picturing the little red plastic pair you’ve had to run back for when out on walks many times. Grace hefts the pumpkin again and you give in, lifting the bag from her grasp and burying your wand in with the candy. You soften when she grabs your hand with a deep sigh.

“The optometrist?”

“Yeah, when we went to see him, he said my eyes were perfect!”

“Well, that’s good.”

“No!” She yells, dramatically, pulling on your arm with her whole weight until you have to  heave yourself back up. You stifle a giggle at her distraught expression. “Because now I’ll never get glasses, and everybody has them.”

“Well, first of all, I’m sure not everybody has them,” you say, smiling down at her grumpy face. “And secondly, you shouldn’t just want something like glasses because other people have them, even if it was everybody else. You can’t just live your life just trying to be like everyone around you.”

“I know,” she mumbles. Then, catching your raised eyebrow, “I know!”

You round the corner to her street, and by the time you’re approaching her house, she’s moved comfortably on to the next topic of her candy eating schedule for the next three days. “Because Jessica saves all her Skittles for last,” Grace explains, her position now firmly against being anything like Jessica. “Which is stupid, because you should have the best candy first.”

“Mm? Why’s that?”

Grace looks at you with a frown. “Because the best comes first,” she tells you, with the tone of somebody kindly trying to hold in their frustration with an imbecile. 

“Of course, silly of me to ask. Hi, Mrs. Miller!”

Grace’s Mom was clearly waiting for you near the front door, already out and standing on the front steps as you walk up the front path. Grace holds her hands out to take her bucket back, launching forward when she’s got ahold of it. “Mom! Look at all my candy!”

“Whoa! There’s no way you’ll be able to eat all that!” Her Mom says, eyes comically wide. “Think you need someone to help you out, hm?”

Grace shrieks indignantly, running under her Mom’s arm inside and clambering up the stairs out of sight without a bye nor leave for you. 

“Everything went okay?” Her Mom asks, smiling when you give her your usual answer, all fine. “Will you be okay getting home? I can get her back down if you need a ride.”

“Oh, um,” you check either side of the street, feeling suddenly warmed inside at the sight of Eddie’s van parked at the end of the road. Now that you’re concentrating on it, you’re sure you can hear the music blasting behind glass. “No, it’s okay. That’s my boyfriend.”

“Ah, Eddie.” She smiles, then smacks her teeth as she, too, registers his music. “Maybe tell him to keep it down next time? I don’t mind but I already get monthly phone calls from Mrs O’Hara about the sound of the lawnmower.” 

“Oh, sorry. I’ll do that,” 

“Okay,” she says, calling after you as you start up a fast pace towards Eddie. “You have a good night!”

You pull your cardigan sleeves down over your hands to fight the chill as you move, smiling when you can properly make out Eddie sitting in the front seat. He had a special D&D night planned when he dropped you off at Grace’s earlier. While your costume sat folded in your bag all day, he’d gone to school dressed all in black, even his white Reeboks swapped out for a pair of knockoff doc martens he’d launched himself towards when he caught sight of them at the thrift store. They’d fit him just fine with three pairs of socks.

This morning, sitting in his van, he’d barely managed to control his excited twitches while you lined his eyes with a cheap black pencil from the drugstore. Your work is a little smudged now, but on him, it looks even better than before. Which makes sense, you think. Eddie doesn’t suit neat lines. 

“Hi Princess!” He calls, turning the music down enough that his excitement is just audible through the glass as you approach. 

“Not a Princess,” you remind him as you climb in, turning your back to shake your shoulders and display the blue net wings. “A Fairy God Mother.” You settle back into the seat, shivering away the chill that had gooseflesh rising over your body. Eddie rubs your arm over your cardigan, and you take the opportunity to grab his hand. As much as you want to warm your cold fingers, it’s mainly just to touch him. “How was the game?”

His grin turns sharp as he leans back in his chair, chin tilted up. “So fucking good. I have them right where I want them. I thought for a second Lucas had me worked out. He hesitated when they were getting to the caves, but then he just went along with it. I can’t wait till next week.” He lets go of your hand long enough to start up the van before returning his open palm to the space between you for you to take hold of him again. “How is Princess Grace?”

“Increasingly despotic. She executed like five of her toys before we went out trick or treating.” 

“Jesus,” Eddie laughs. “What for?” 

“Well, her not-so-wise Fairy God Mother,” you start, gesturing to yourself. “Made the mistake of telling her about royal food tasters? Now there’s a poisoning attempt every few days.” 

“Very active imagination, this girl. Violent, but active.”

“Mm, I think most girls play that way. When I was little- Well, me and May, we’d act like witches sometimes? And make potions out of mud and sticks and stuff. And talk about who we would curse.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. “And which poor soul had earned this spite, pray tell?” 

“Did you ever have Mr Gilmour?”

“Oh, Gilmour, yeah, I fuckin' hated that guy!” Eddie yells. His eyebrows furrow. “I threw up during gym in seventh grade and the sadistic prick made me finish running a mile.” 

“Yeah, I forgot about that till now.” His brows stay taught for a second longer, then he shakes his head a little, tapping his fingers along your knuckles. “Too bad I didn’t have you around then, coulda cursed him for me a little earlier.”

“Oh, Eddie, that’s horrible.”

“I would have,” you promise. “But you were telling me about the game. Did you get Dustin with the, um, venom troll?”

“Not yet. We didn’t get as far as I’d have wanted before they had to go. I mean, what fourteen year old has a curfew? I didn’t, and I turned out alright. But I’ll get him next week. I can’t wait to see his face - that little punk thinks he’s so smart, but he is pre-dictable.”

Eddie continues describing the campaign, the traps he’s set for them that he’s sure they’ll run into, the whole drive to his place, excited and animated as he usually is on the rare occasion you get to see him after Hellfire, wound up from the events of the day. He only slows down when you’re settled on his couch. Sneakers left at the door, wings, tiara, and wand abandoned on the kitchen table, wrapped up in his arms as the opening titles of Theatre of Blood play. 

Eddie’s so warm, and unusually still when you sit with him like this. Being cuddled up to him puts you in mind of your aunt’s black cat. She spends the first couple hours of every visit pretending that she isn’t interested in being anywhere near you. Then, after letting her sniff your hand, rubbing gently between her ears, she darts up on your lap, her soft heat spreading through you. 

Eddie might not admit it, at least not verbally, but he likes being petted the same way. You’ve seen his eyes flutter when you play with his hair, heard the gentle sighs he lets out when you touch his cheek. Now, leaning into his chest, rubbing lazily at his torso, you can feel the way his body relaxes into the couch under your touch. It makes you smile at the TV even as Vincent Price swears revenge on all his critics.

You turn your head just a little, trying to be subtle as much as possible so you can look at him properly. Eddie’s eyes, which in sunlight can be bright as copper, are dark and focused in the electric light of the TV. The light freckles that dotted the tops of his cheeks and nose during Summer have faded from the cloudy days and early sunsets, leaving only his soft pale skin. His lips, as always, are soft looking and pink, still shiny from the last time his tongue peeked out, set in a near constant subtle pout. 

You sigh gently, and in turn breathe in the remnants of smoke and laundry detergent from his shirt, the fading spice of his drugstore aftershave.

“You know I picked this movie out special,” he says, only his eyes moving to fix you with a mockingly suspicious expression. “Vincent’s a master.”

You’re surprised to find you’re not ashamed at having been caught. “M’just looking at you.”

“Therein lies the problem, sweet thing. One minute you’re just looking. Next thing I know my head’s trapped between your thighs.” This time he leans in properly. “Wicked temptress.” He whispers it, his breath warming your face. 

You think he’ll kiss you then, but instead he relaxes back into the couch with a sigh. “M’just lucky you weren’t dressed up all day.” His hand tugs at the hem of your skirt, then spreads out just above your knee. “I wouldn’t have been able to think about anything else. It’s a miracle I even got the movie playing instead of trying to touch you.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” you answer, trying not to sound too eager. 

“I bet,” he says, eyes shining. Then his face turns serious, palm coming to his heart. “But Eddie the Chivalrous would never touch a Princess without properly wooing her first.” His eyes scan over your face quickly. “I guess that means we need to finish the movie.”

He’s teasing you. He wants to push, see how much he can get you to say, if you’ll ask him outright to just touch you the way you want. Warring feelings compete to decide what you do next. Maybe months ago, when you first started dating Eddie, you would have pressed your thighs together and settled in to finish the film. A part of you still calls for that, screams that whatever you say won’t be right. 

You stare at Eddie now. His eyes still lined dark, the smirk he’s trying to hide. Your toes curl just looking at him, and the thought escapes naturally. “You don’t look like Eddie the Chivalrous, right now.” 

Eddie blinks slowly. His head tilts. “No? Who do I look like, then?” 

Now, something like shame creeps back in, and you wish you’d just settled down to watch the movie.

You haven’t ever put a name to it before. In your fantasies, the ones that appear unprompted when you’re alone in your bed and you haven’t been able to touch him in a couple days, Eddie’s always Eddie, but sometimes just a little different. 

Maybe Eddie the Chivalrous is the right name for how you first thought about him like that, calling you Princess as usual but meaning it. You thought about him as your knight and guard, sworn to protect you, breaking all the rules by laying you down and treating you gently, better than any lord or Prince you could be promised to.

Then you’d think about his laugh, the one that comes out when you moan a little loud, or lose your patience and try to direct his hands or his tongue to where you need him. The mocking gasp and teasing tone that often comes along with it, you want it bad, huh, Princess? You think about an Eddie who’s like that all the time, teasingly mean with you, dark and dangerous to everyone else, finding you alone in your soft bed, holding your hands above your head and- and-

People already think you’re weird.

You give in to the sudden hot shame, pressing your face to Eddie’s chest lest he read your expression so perfectly that he works it all out. You whisper into his shirt, more to yourself than him. “I’m so weird.” 

“Well, s’a good thing you’re with me then, mm?” He says, big hand moving to stroke the back of your neck. “Cause if you got a fantasy, like, something you think about when I’m not around. You know I won’t judge you for it, right?” 

“I know.” It comes out muffled against his shirt but it’s certain. It’s instinctual, now. You’re as sure that you don’t need to worry about Eddie judging you as you are that the sun will rise tomorrow morning. More and more, you find yourself talking to him the way you talk to yourself in your head. Easy and free, not waiting for the other shoe to drop. But this is different. “It’s just- It’s like-” You sigh, searching for the words that won’t come. 

He hums, still rubbing your neck. “Maybe I could- I mean, do you…wanna hear one ‘a mine?” You emerge from your hiding place, leaning back into his hand to gauge how serious he is. Eddie’s eyes crinkle at the sides at having coaxed you into looking at him again. “Yeah?”  

“Okay.” 

“Okay,” he echoes. Eddie searches his side for the remote first, pausing Vincent in the middle of another monologue. “Okay. Well, yeah, sometimes I think about- Wait no, gotta set the scene. I’ve just played maybe the best show of my life. Nothing too big,” he continues, giving you a serious look. “I’m not a sell out. We’re talking the smaller arenas, you know? Anyway, after, when I get backstage, feeling like hot shit, there’s this girl. Prettiest I’ve ever seen. And she’s wearing the band’s shirt.”

“And she’s a little shy. Can barely look me in the eye-” He catches you just as your gaze moves to his collar, pulling you back to staring, helpless, into his dark eyes. Eddie takes your hand from where it was playing with the hem of his shirt, weaving your fingers together. “She’s kinda fidgety, too.”

You swallow. “Me?”

“You, sweet thing. S’always you.” You bite the gum behind your bottom lip, holding back from grinning too much. You squirm a little under his gaze, waiting for him to speak again. “And you tell me you’ve been waiting for me,” Eddie says, voice smooth and quiet. “You tell me you’re my biggest fan. And you can’t quite say everything you wanna say, but it doesn’t matter, cause I’ve got you worked out. So I get real close,” he says, his face disappearing as his mouth moves towards your ear, “and I ask if you want me to touch you?”

“And I do,” you continue for him, shivering again at the little groan Eddie lets escape from his throat. 

“Mm hm, real bad.” His eyes reappear, scanning over each part of your face. “So bad you wanna earn it. Wanna show me I was right to pick you and not some other girl. You get on your knees for me.” Eddie licks his lips quick. “And I know you’re kinda inexperienced, but it’s good, the best I’ve ever had. You know why?” You shake your head, gaze darting between his eyes and his mouth. You watch his lips move around his words. “Cause you’re so fucking grateful for it.” 

“Mm. And when I decide you’ve earned it, I lay you back on a couch somewhere. A green room or a tour bus or something. And I show you you were right to wait for me.” You shiver. It’s a delicious thrill to picture Eddie that way, completely new to you, a total stranger, yet so sure of what he can take. “And after that?” He says, giving the back of your neck a squeeze. “I keep you.”

“Eddie.” You feel your heartbeat between your legs, wishing he would touch you there now, or even put you on your knees the way he wants so you could show him you’re as grateful for him here and now as you are in his fantasy. 

The fantasy fades when Eddie kisses you. With the press of his lips, the taste of Dr Pepper on his tongue, he’s your Eddie again, familiar and perfect. You’re still floating back to Earth when he pulls away. “Your turn.”

You flinch, crashing to the ground instead. “What?”

“You like Latin, right? It’s quid pro quo, sweetheart. I show you mine, you show me yours. Tit for tat. That was the deal.”

“It was implied.” Eddie answers breezily. Then, with his thumb rubbing gently at the back of your hand. “C’mon. Try? You liked mine, right?” You give a barely noticeable nod, but Eddie catches it. “Yeah. And I bet I’ll like yours.”

“There was no deal!”

“I can’t- I don’t have it all, like, thought out the way you do.”

“Well, I’m a storyteller by trade,” he says, pressing his free hand to his chest. “All my sex fantasies have lore. And we can build on yours, if it needs it.Alright. I’m not Eddie the Chivalrous right now. Who am I?” He tilts his chin to where you have started playing with his rings, twisting each round his fingers in turn. “Apart from Eddie the Stress Toy.”

“It’s not- You’re just-” You swallow, rubbing your thumb over the metal skull sitting where a wedding ring would go. “You’re just somebody…somebody I shouldn’t want.”

“Intriguing. And you are?” Your face flames. You mumble it, barely opening your lips, and Eddie squints. “Mm?”

You sigh. “Princess.”

“Always,” Eddie replies, ducking his head to make sure you see his face, reassuringly still smiling. “Okay. I can work with this. Maybe I'm…Eddie the Banished. I tried to take power for myself by force but I failed.” He brings your hand to his mouth, kisses the thin skin at your wrist. “And I’ve returned, because I realised I don’t need to win a battle. I just have to…take the Princess?”

You clench around nothing. “Yeah.”

“Fuck, yeah. C’mon, sweet thing.” 

Your gaze follows him as he stands. “You want- Right now?”

“Why not? We’re all dressed up. The time is now.” Eddie pauses his excitement when he registers the fact you’re still sitting. “If…if you want.”

“I do,” you breathe. “But I can’t, y’know, talk like you.” You just know Eddie already has some dialogue thought up, things he can say as the character he’s just come up with that will make you dizzy. “I’ll get stuck.”

“Maybe you will, maybe you won’t,” Eddie says, squatting down in front of you, hands spread out on your knees. “I don’t mind taking the lead. Besides, the Princess would be kinda nervous anyway, right? If you’re not supposed to want me. The outlaw, the traitor. You’ve been told about all the terrible things I’ve done, what I tried to do for power. Now you feel guilty about what you really want from me. And I’ve been thinking about you while I’ve been on the run, living rough- You know, this is good stuff,” he says, interrupting himself and looking round. “You got a pen? I should maybe write some of this down- No. After, sorry.” He gives you a sheepish grin, then leans in close. “Don’t think there’s much chance I’ll forget this, anyway.” 

He stands then, hand extended to you with wiggling fingers for you to take and let him guide you through to his room. Eddie hums when his door is closed, shutting out the world beyond the frame. “Shoulda done this at yours,” he says, sitting you down on the mattress. “In your pretty Princess bed.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you say breathlessly, meaning it entirely. All that matters is it’s him. He’s the only person you could do something like this with. 

“Okay, I need a little more. You shouldn’t want me, I’m…morally grey, let’s say. Chaotic neutral. Am I mean?”

“Kinda,” you answer. “You’re…selfish?”

“Selfish,” he repeats. 

“Just like, y’know. It’s like-” Eddie’s hands spread at the sides of your thighs, teasing the skin at the hem of your skirt. You want them everywhere. “You know I want you. That I’ll…do things for you. And you take advantage. ”

There’s a pause. “I think I’m following. Things somebody like you shouldn’t do?” You nod quickly, cheeks burning as you watch him work it out. “You wanna get your mouth on me, Princess?”

You fight the instinct to hide, the urge to look away, the voice telling you to deny everything, take it back. Instead, you start playing with the hem of his shirt again, soft cotton between your fingers.  

“Mm hm.”

“Shit. Okay. Anything-” His voice cracks a touch, and he clears his throat before he speaks again. “Anything else?”

“It’s not like- Even though you’re mean, you still- With me, you feel-” Now you do have to look away, staring at where your fingers are fiddling with the black fabric. He can read you too well, and you don’t want him to see exactly what you want from him. “You-”

You love me. 

“I feel…how I feel about you?” He suggests.

You bite the gum behind your lip to stop yourself asking exactly what that means. “Yeah.”

“Okay, good. Hard to pretend anything else.” Eddie leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips, long enough that your whole body relaxes into it, your mind settling on Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. When he pulls away, it’s easy to answer his question. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Eddie stands to full height, his shoulders back. He tilts his head, expression shifting. From your Eddie, with chestnut eyes and his perfect, dimpled smile, to a smirking man with a dark gaze excited to ruin you. 

“I’ve been looking for you, Princess,” he says, voice smooth and confident. A thrilled shiver runs up your spine. “Knew I’d find you eventually, but I could only hope I’d find you like this. All alone.” He takes a step towards you. “Unprotected-”

“Eddie,” you whisper. 

Softness peaks through with raised eyebrows. “Good?” You nod quickly, and it disappears again as he slinks closer towards you. “I missed you, while I was away,” he tells you, soft and teasing. “Did you miss me?”

“I-” You swallow. You’re used to repeating back what Eddie says to you, in times like this, letting him guide you through everything he wants to hear from you. But you don’t want to just watch him do this for you. “No.”

Eddie blinks, surprised, then he puts on a mockingly hurt face, hand over his heart. “No? You wound me, Princess.” That same hand reaches for your face, cupping your cheek. His thumb strokes gently under your eye and you can’t help but lean into him. “Or you would, if I believed you.” He tilts your head up to see him properly, standing over you. “You think I didn’t see the way you’d look at me, before I left?”

Your fingers twitch to reach out and brush at the ends of his hair as it falls towards you, but you keep them at your sides on the bed, curling into the sheets. “You didn’t leave, you-”

“Left, banished, driven out; it all comes to the same end, mm?” His eyes scan your face, down your dress and back up. “That’s you and me, Princess. Here, alone together. You gonna pretend you never wanted that?”

His thumb, callused and warm, keeps rubbing over your cheek. “I can’t want it”

“No, you can,” he presses. Eddie, your Eddie, would sit with you now, squat in front of you to talk to you at the same level. Now, his grip on your jaw tightens just enough to remind you that he could stop you looking away if you tried. “Cause I’ve had time to think about it.”

“While you were hiding in the woods?”

“While I was regrouping,” he corrects. “I realised something. I went about it all wrong.” he tells you. “It was foolish of me to try and use force to get what I want. Not when you were right here. Waiting for me.”

His thumb pulls at your bottom lip, then presses inside to the tip of your tongue. 

“If I make you mine, everything else follows. That’s right, isn’t it?” He nods slowly until you copy him. “The throne, power, vengeance on everyone who tried to hold me back. And you, in my bed every night. All day if I wanted.” He pulls at your lip again as he steals his thumb back, leaning in until his breath is warm against your cheeks. “That sounds nice. Doesn't it, Princess?” You glance at his lips, wanting him to kiss you now, to take it from you. Eddie shakes his head, drawing your gaze back to his. “I wanna hear you say it. You wanted me to touch you, just like this, and more, didn’t you? Wanted me to show you how to make me happy?”

You can feel your heartbeat heavy in your chest, your breath coming quicker. Only Eddie could do this, have you convinced of a story which before tonight only existed half formed in the fantasies of your bedroom. You can feel the internal conflict as if it really is your duty to say no, and your heart’s only desire to give your next answer.

“Yes, Eddie.”

He gives you a kiss that’s half teeth, dragging at your bottom lip. Even this is different. You’re used to the gentle start, feeling him smile on your mouth. He breathes deep through his nose, pulls from you so suddenly that you make to follow him until he presses a hand to your shoulder. 

“And I will. Get on the floor.” Eddie steps back, and it doesn’t even occur to argue with him now. You slide off the mattress easily, knees falling to the carpet without looking away from him. There’s a pause. He speaks quietly, as if he doesn’t want an invisible audience to hear. “You comfy? You want the pillow?” 

“No,” you answer, heart aching. “I’m okay.” 

“Okay.”

You watch the way he steels his face again, looking at you on your knees in front of him like that’s where you’re meant to be. His hands work at his belt, a soft hiss escaping when he presses his palm down the front of his pants. His head tilts back, displaying his thick neck, the rising pinkness across his pale throat, and he breathes a laugh. “Now, Princess- Wait!” You jump at the suddenness of Eddie pulling his hand from his pants only to clasp them at his waist as he half-jogs towards the door. “Just a second. Don’t move!” 

Eddie disappears through the door, mumbling to himself. His words are faint but it’s clear enough that he is looking for something. You close your eyes, focusing on his voice, however fuzzy. You never thought you could have something like this. Someone like Eddie. Someone safe. So safe that you can abandon yourself to fulfilling a silly fantasy thought up under the covers of your bed. 

Something catches your hair and you open your eyes to find him standing over you again. The tip of his tongue curls over his top lip as he places the plastic silver tiara just so on your head. When it’s as he wants it, his teeth show with his smile. “Perfect,” he says, pressing two fingers to your chin and turning your head each way. “My Princess, mm? I’m going to show you what it is to be mine.”

Eddie reaches into his pants to pull himself free. His hand drags over the shaft, quick and dirty, just for a moment’s relief if the clench of his jaw the second he stops is any indicator. 

You think you know what to do now, tipping your chin, opening your mouth, ready to take him. Only he angles his head away from your tongue. You peer up at him in confusion, watch the way his excitement plays out on his face. “C’mere, Princess.” 

Cupping your cheek with his spare hand, he guides you to the base of his cock, where he is softest. Your lips graze the fuzzy skin of his balls and Eddie makes a noise that has you squirming for the lightest touch between your legs. You kiss delicately, blinking up at him, watching his thumb rub over the head of his cock, catching wetness to ease the slow movement of his hand. He taps his fingers on your cheek gently. “Open up. Want your tongue.”

Your toes curl. You want to taste him here, aching at the smell of him; like his neck at the end of the day in Summer, his sweat and musk, fading body wash. You want to make Eddie feel good so badly, you think you might do whatever he asks as long as he looks at you the way he is now. 

You reach for him, palm settling on his knee where denim meets exposed skin. Opening your mouth, you lick quickly at the seam of his balls, taste salt on soft skin. He groans, fingers flexing around your jaw. “That’s it,” he encourages. “Fuck yes,” Eddie bites out when you lick broad and wet up to the base of his cock, thinking of his wide tongue drawing upwards from your pussy to your clit. “Fuck, yes.” 

He draws you back, smiling down at you. It makes your face burn, but you struggle between looking him in the eyes and staring at his cock. His balls are pink and wet from your attention, his hand moves steadily over his length, drawing folds of skin over his thick head and back.

“Want you to suck on them a little,” he tells you. The pause he leaves gives a moment for you to squeeze at his knee, as if presenting your open mouth wouldn’t be enough to show your agreement. He drags the weight of his balls over your chin to your wet tongue, listing off curses when your lips close just enough to suck gently. Eddie’s hand moves faster over his length, the curve of his fingers brushing your forehead with each tug.

Eddie’s groans are all that matter now. His sack is heavy, falling past your lips the wider you open your mouth. “So fuckin’ full cause of you,” Eddie bites. You hum, closing your eyes, his hips stutter. First towards the warmth of your mouth and then away entirely, replacing his sack with the head of his cock tapping against your tongue.

Eddie gasps when you lap at his leaking tip. “Can I-” He pauses, rephrases, puts on the right tone. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth now, Princess.” 

He watches you carefully, gives you time to tell him no. You squeeze his knee once more, gaze moving from his dark eyes to his cock. You press a quick kiss to the swollen head, a darker pink than the rest of him where it peeks through folds of skin, then let him press your head back against the mattress. 

Eddie’s cock glides smoothly over your tongue to the top of your throat. “Fuck,” he breathes, rolling his hips. “M’starting to think this is what you wanted the whole time.” He eases further, just past the entrance of your throat. It’s easier, like this. You are more open to him with your head tilted back this way. He holds himself in the warmth of your mouth, watching you blinking back tears to try and keep him clear in your gaze. Finally your throat protests, and Eddie draws back till you can suck at his head, the exposed length of his cock shining with your spit. You gaze at him, wanting him to be proud of you for taking him deeper than you have before. He makes a soft encouraging noise, but Eddie like this won’t give you the validation you want so easily. “Teased me for so long. I think I deserve to take what I want, now.”

Eddie thrusts slowly at first, easing you in despite his words. The hand that was on your cheek now stroking at your heated forehead. 

You like it like this. 

You liked having him in your mouth the first time, and every time after that. Like watching him shake, hearing him groan and whine, and knowing that you’re the one making him like that. You like focusing on him; lick here, nip there, let him feel you moan around him. Now, you don’t even have to think about how best to please him. You can focus on your breathing, taking air in through your nose when he pulls back enough. And on Eddie and how he looks as he takes his pleasure from you. 

Eddie’s so beautiful. His dark hair frizzes around his face, eyes crinkling at the sides when he closes them and groans into the air. His neck is pink, a pretty blush crawling up to his cheeks as his thrusts speed up. “We’re gonna do this all the time, Princess, you hear me?” He grits, fingers curling into the sheets at the side of your head. You moan in answer, pleased when it makes his cock twitch in your mouth, his tip dipping deep enough past the entrance of your throat that you can’t blink away the wetness that springs to your eyes. “You’re gonna be in my bed all the time, maybe I’ll tie you up, mm?” He presses deep again, then holds steady. When the tears collected at the corners of your eyes start to fall, he wipes them away before they can reach the apples of your cheeks. “Keep you here, just for me. Don’t need to see or talk to anyone else ever again.”

If your head weren’t fuzzy, you’d start questioning why that makes you ache. Eddie withdraws his cock from the top of your throat and you only take a second to gasp in the air you need before following him, reaching up to touch the inches of his cock your mouth still can’t quite cover. Eddie laughs through a moan at the feeling of you jerking his cock into your mouth, licking wet at the end of him. “You want that, huh? Hey-” He drags you away from his cock, leaving you with wet, pleading eyes looking up at him. “You want that?” Your mouth opens, then closes. Your hips roll, seeking friction you can’t get while kneeling like this. Eddie’s eyes flick down, lips turning up at the sight. “Get on the bed for me, mm?”

Eddie reaches a hand out to help you sit up on his mattress. Then he pulls his shirt off over the back of his head, exposing all the soft pale skin and dark ink of his torso. You pull your dress up too, knocking your tiara in the process. When the dress is off entirely, Eddie’s there in an instant to fix it for you, his fingers caressing your cheek when he’s done. “Hey, uh. Am I doing alright? Is this the sort of thing you imagined?”

“This is better,” you tell him earnestly, loving how pleased he looks. You’re learning that this, the pleasure gained from praise, is something you and Eddie share. You love it when Eddie calls you good, or smart, or sweet. When he tells you that you’re good at something he’s teaching you. In turn, Eddie likes it when you tell him how good he makes you feel, that he’s doing everything right, that he’s looking after you exactly how you want it. 

He kisses you, and it’s softer this time until he bites gently at your bottom lip as he’s pulling away. “C’mon and lie down, Princess,” he says, guiding you to lay down. You press your legs together, knees bent and feet flat to the mattress as Eddie climbs up after you. His hands stroke up and down your thighs, making you giggle softly as he passes ticklish spots. It relaxes you enough to let him guide your legs open and back, allowing him closer. Eddie tilts his head, thumbing the little blue bow at the waistband of your panties. “You really want me to tie you up?” 

Without thinking, you glance quickly at the handcuffs hanging from his door. You feel the beat of your heart against your chest, wondering if you’re ready for that, knowing really that you’re not. Eddie’s hand cups your cheek, directing your gaze back to him. He kisses your knee. “Not tonight, Princess.” He leans in, whispers. “And only ever if you really want, okay?”

“I know, Eddie,” you answer. And you do. You know that as much as Eddie is teaching you, seemingly leading you along to each new experience, in truth he’s making sure you set the pace. 

“Take this off for me,” he says, pulling at the strap of your bra. You reach underneath your back to unhook it, shimmying it off your arms and letting it drop to his floor. Once you’re settled, he takes both your hands in his, pulling them up over your head. You can’t help but giggle, feeling both nervous and giddy. “Hold onto the headboard?” You follow the instruction, wrapping your fingers around one of the wooden slats. Stretched like this, chest presented to him, you feel open and exposed, your nipples tightening from the cold air and from Eddie’s attention. “Don’t let go, mm?”

He leans down, kissing from the base of your neck down the skin between your breasts, his hair dragging behind him, tickling the sensitive skin. He leaves a wet mark on the curve of your left breast, the sting of his teeth quickly soothed by his tongue. When he takes the tight bud of your nipple between his lips, your whole body tenses. It’s a test of your submission, if you can last with only your memory of what it feels like to tangle your fingers in his hair. If you can bear not to tug at it when he flicks his tongue like that. 

Your hands tighten around the wood, hips tilting to find his cock where he tucked it back in his boxers, still hard and throbbing between your legs. The friction, however light, against where you have been waiting for him all evening, is too good to give up, and you keep searching for his hardness to rub against. 

Eddie releases your breasts with a grin. “You want it bad, huh, Princess?”

You whine, melting when he presses his hips forward to give you more delicious friction along your pussy. He huffs a laugh, sitting up and quickly reaching out for the pack of Trojans on his bedside. You watch him kneel between your legs, the way he fists his cock while he tears at the foil square with his teeth, his desperation to roll the condom over his length. Eddie shuffles forward on his knees and presses his wide hands to the back of your thighs. He gently guides your legs back, hitching your hips up for better access to your pussy, wet and swollen under his gaze.

“Wanted this for so long, Princess,” he says. “You’ve been waiting too, hmm?”

“Yes, Eddie. Been waiting so long.” You nearly cry from relief when his cock latches at your entrance, then from despair when he stills instead of filling you. The headboard creaks from your squirming. “Please,” you whisper, sounding pathetic in a way that would embarrass you if you weren’t aching from the emptiness.

Eddie stretches you perfectly as he presses inside your slick cunt. The tease of pain feels good now that your body recognises what it means, where Eddie filling you up leads. “Good?” He asks, once he’s deep enough inside that the curls of hair above his cock are teasing your clit. 

You mean to answer properly, but the intention is overtaken by the need for him to move. Waiting for him, your fingers tighten around the wood so much you swear there will be marks from your nails. “Eddie.” It comes out whinier than you intended, but he certainly doesn’t mind. 

“Eddie,” he mimics breathily, his teeth showing as the heat of pleasant humiliation crawls up your spine. He doesn’t keep you waiting any longer, snapping his hips to draw back and press deep again through your clenching cunt.

You’ve been under him every time, but like this you feel helpless. Hands voluntarily useless, body tilted up and legs opened by his hands, your body presented to him and positioned perfectly for him to set the pace. It feels right for this - you know now what the romance novels you hide under your bed mean when the heroine is taken. 

Your toes curl when Eddie’s hips roll just right, the heavy head of his cock hitting the end of you. When he reaches between you to press a thumb to your clit and rub in tight circles, your body tilts, hips trying to chase the pleasure, only for Eddie to press you back down to where he wants you.

“I like it,” you answer. “I like it, Eddie.”

“You like it, like this, hm?” Eddie asks. You blink at him slowly, wondering if it’s your boyfriend or Eddie the Banished asking. “Tell me.”

He shakes his head like he can’t believe it, hair shaking. “Knew you would. Pretty Princess just needed to be fucked right, mm?” You shudder, tightening around his cock enough that he gasps, “fuckfuckfuck. S’good. It’s so good, honey.”

You breathe a laugh. “Princess, to you.”

“My apologies,” he says, snapping his hips to land heavy against the spot at the back of your pussy. You gasp, legs kicking out against his grip involuntarily only for him to tighten his grip and push them back to where he wants them. You can hear how wet you are, the sound of him moving inside you as loud as the bed springs, as loud as your moans. “Mine now, aren’t you, Princess?” 

You nod easily. “Yes.”

“Gonna give me everything I want from now on, aren’t you?” 

“Yes. Yes-”

“Made it so easy for me. Should have just done this in the beginning, just taken you for myself.”

“Yes. Yes, Eddie.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, head tilting back as his hips speed up. “Fuck, I can’t- Can’t get enough of that.” When he looks back to you, the detached, mocking look is gone. He’s all intensity and warmth, your Eddie again. Your whole body tightens. “Tells me everything I need to know when you say my name like that.” He gives you a mean thrust, tongue peeking out as he watches where you’re connected, the slick coating his cock, before his gaze returns to your pleasured, sweaty face. “You’re so fucking good, you know that? So fucking good, the way you talk to me. Telling me what you want. Not gonna hide anything like that from me again, are you?”

“Nuh,” you manage, legs twitching. “Eddie.” 

”Again,” he gasps. “Please. My sweet girl-”

“Eddie. Eddie-”

Maybe you keep chanting his name, maybe you cry it out, maybe you stop altogether to scream out instead. You don’t know. You just know he’s all you’re thinking of as the pleasure crests, spreading out from the back of your cunt through your body until it’s intense enough you think you might cry. Then it fades to the gentle delight of Eddie still moving inside you, the warmth and weight of his cock when he buries himself deep. You hear him groan, feel the potential for bruises blooming where his fingers dig into your thighs. Then it’s his weight easing down on top of you, the ache in your shoulders and your legs as you let them relax before wrapping yourself around him.

You finally get your hands in his hair. The roots are damp from sweat, his curls tangled in knots. Eddie’s face is pressed so fully to the space between your breasts that you’re not convinced he can be breathing. He mumbles something that’s lost to your ears, then tilts his head up till you can see his face, and his goofy smile. Your heart aches even as you giggle. Then he’s crawling up your body to kiss you, his mouth warm and tasting like the sweat from his upper lip. 

“I’m gonna pull out now but I want it known that it’ll take amazing strength of will on my part.” 

He does so, disappearing from the bed for less than five seconds to throw out the condom before flopping next to you again and opening his arms to let you clamber into his hold again, you try to fight the rising worries by pressing your face into his neck. He hisses at the scrape of the plastic tiara under his chin, taking it off himself before returning to stroke at your temple with his fingers.  “How do you feel, sweet girl?”

It takes you a minute to answer, sorting through all the complicated feelings that emerged the second Eddie wasn’t inside you anymore. “Good,” you murmur. Then, “weird.” 

You hate how fast it all happens so soon after something so special. You feel overwhelmed and tired, like you want to scrub yourself raw under hot water, like you want to curl up in Eddie’s arms and smell like him forever. You feel like you don’t want to ever be touched again, but the thought that Eddie won’t makes your heart sore. You wish you were normal. You wish you didn’t have weird fantasies. You wish you didn’t feel guilty about what you want. 

Eddie holds you tight against him, and you let yourself feel the comfort of that. Eddie doesn’t think you’re weird, or gross, or immoral. Eddie won’t ever leave you alone to cry and scratch at your crawling skin. 

He presses his lips to your forehead, mumbles against your skin. “Gonna let me look after you?”

He keeps you with him while he runs a bath. You’re wrapped in a towel while he runs around naked, giving you mock coquettish looks over his shoulder every now and then until he gets a giggle from you. As steam starts to rise from the tub, he searches through the cabinet under the sink before emerging with a bottle filled with suspiciously bright orange liquid. “We don’t have bubble bath but, uh, this is six-in-one.” 

You try sitting in the water together, wrapped up in him, but the pins and needles come too fast, eight limbs not quite fitting as they should. You end up facing him, legs tucked up to your chest, watching the water drip from dark ends of his hair. 

“Not as romantic as I’d hoped,” he says.

“It’s okay. I like looking at you.”

His dimples show. Sweetest boy on Earth. He splashes at you a little, waiting for you to smile before talking. “Feeling better?” 

“Much,” you answer honestly. Somewhere between giggling at Eddie rushing to his bedroom to fetch towels for you both, a hair tie for you, with his hands covering the crack of his ass while leaving his dick uncovered and him quietly insisting on taking the side of the tub with the tap at his back, the grey cloud hanging over you faded. “Cause of you,” you say, splashing him back. 

Eddie smiles, resting his face against his knee. “Is there anything I can do, you know, to make it better, like, before it happens?” He reaches for your hand in the water. “Cause it hasn’t, in a while. I know that this was, like, different, but if I did something-”

“No,” you interrupt. “It wasn’t you.” Eddie lets that sit for a while, waiting for you to continue. “When it’s just me and you, it’s like-” You swallow. “Sometimes I feel like I’m being really, actually myself for the first time in my whole life.” Eddie’s eyes are so soft, looking at you now. “And I know that you won’t ever judge me for…my fantasies, or whatever. But then it’s like, it’s almost like- Like without even wanting to, I imagine what other people would say, if they knew the stuff I told you. If they saw how I am, when it’s just us. And then I just feel like, even though they’re not there, it’s ruined it.”

Eddie squeezes your hand, sighs with his whole body. “That sounds exhausting.”

Tears prick in your eyes even as you laugh without real mirth. “It is.”

“Well, you know this stuff really is always going to be just me and you. Right?” 

“I know, Eddie.”

“I wish I could fix it for you, sweet thing.”

You close your eyes tight, trying to force back the tears. You swallow the lump in your throat, thinking, me too. Instead, you sigh, remind yourself that however hard it is now, you’re sure it used to be worse. Before you had Eddie and his humour, his touch, his kindness. “You make it better, Eddie. I promise.”

He’s perfectly gentle with you the rest of the evening, curling back up with you on the couch when you’re dry to restart Theatre of Blood. You let yourself sink into his chest, playing with his rings. You are just about engrossed in the story again, watching with sick fascination as the first critic is stabbed like Julius Caesar. Then, a thought suddenly occurs.

“Did…did you say the soap was six-in-one?”

“Sure did,” Eddie answers. “Face, body, hair, laundry, pets and dishes.”

“That’s why it smells like the terrier next door.”

Eddie hums, lifts your hand to his face and sniffs. “You mean that’s why we smell like the terrier next door.”

[hayakawalove]

More, More, More

Summary: You and Gojo decide to try out something new in the bedroom.

A/N: Hello! This is my first submission for kinktober this year. I hope you enjoy! Comments are appreciated! I've never written this kink before, so I wanted to test it out.

CW: Smut, Electric Play, Hands Free Cum, Biting, Switch Gojo Satoru, Gender Neutral Reader W/C: 1,002

Credits to cafekitsune for the banner

“I don’t know, are you sure about this?” Satoru asks, watching as you place the electrodes on him. 

You’re almost able to feel the excitement burning beneath the surface of his skin. His eyes quickly dart back and forth between you and his lower half, as if you would turn the knob on without telling him. 

“You’re the one who brought it up saying you wanted to try it.” You reply, your eyes flicking up towards him. 

He looks cute like this. A sheen of sweat decorates his forehead, and his eyes are full of anticipation as they look between you and his cock. He looks helpless. You would never be able to guess he was the strongest in the world. 

“Yeah- no. I was just making sure you weren’t nervous.” He says, false confidence filling his voice. 

You hum, and look towards the dial. You figured starting on the lowest setting made the most sense, but god you wanted to see what the highest did. 

“Alright, are you ready?” You fiddle with the knob, waiting for his approval. 

“Am I ready? Of course I’m ready. Are you ready-“ 

The second he says he was ready, you turn the knob up to the first setting. Satoru groans, throwing his head back. Pulses of electricity course through his cock, instantly making him hard. It’s mesmerizing. You watch as he looks back down, puffs of air leaving his lips while he tries to compose himself. When he looks at you, you raise an eyebrow and wait for him to speak.

“Well?” You ask.

“That was barely anything.” His voice is calm as he speaks. You’d be inclined to believe him, if you didn’t see the way his cock was beginning to drip precum. 

“Is that right?” You trace your hands over his hips, delighting in the shudder he lets out. 

“Yeah. Turn it up.” 

If he says so. You turn the dial up to the next setting, holding back a moan as his hips buck upwards. He’s breathing heavier now, his brows furrowed as he watches you. There’s a string of precum connecting his cock to his stomach. All you want to do is lick it up, but you’d rather let him be a mess. You prefer him that way. 

You drag your nails up his skin, digging into his chest as the electrodes send waves throughout his cock. Satoru’s moaning while his lower body twists around. When you look closely, you can see light pink tinting his cheeks, a sure sign that he was getting riled up. Your breathing is picking up as you watch him. Your own desire is beckoning you, whispering for you to touch the spot between your legs. Willfully, you ignore it. Right now, you’re focused on Satoru. 

“How does it feel?” Your voice is heavy with lust. 

“G-good. Turn it to the highest.” Satoru winces. 

Already? You’re down with that. You fumble with the dial, turning it up, up, up until it’s at the highest setting. Satoru lets out a noise that he’s never made before. It’s a mix between a moan and a whine, almost sounding like that of a wounded animal. You look up at him, alarm painting your features. 

“Fuck! It’s so-“ he moans, his hips bucking up into nothing. 

He watches as you reach for the knob, nearly about to lower the setting. 

“N-no! Please don’t, don’t turn it down.” His voice isn’t his own as he speaks. Instead, it’s filled with ecstasy, each syllable drawing out longer than the last. 

Your throat goes dry as you watch him writhe about. It’s a sight to see. Sweat is trickling down his face, and saliva begins to pool at the corner of his lips. He’s groaning, pushing his hips up more to feel anything, yet he comes up dry. Your touch isn’t there providing him solace. Your hand isn’t squeezing him and guiding him through, nor is your inviting pussy. The only sensation is the electrodes against his cock, shooting pleasure straight into his tender flesh. 

You start to place gentle kisses on his hips, maintaining eye contact with him as you go. It almost looks like he’s close already. 

“How is it baby?” 

“It’s making me w-wanna cum,” Satoru groans. 

His cock is so hard it hurts. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so horny before. The sight and sound of him is making you dizzy. You want to reach out and touch his cock, but you really don’t want to ruin the moment. Not when he looks so close already. 

You open your mouth a bit wider and dig your teeth into him. The thin skin on his hips molds against your teeth, allowing the salty taste of his sweat to flood into your mouth. Indents are quickly made from your jaw as you begin to litter his skin with fresh wounds. He whines, squeezing his eyes shut as you work him closer. 

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,”

You moan with him, watching as cum begins to spurt from his overworked cock. His groaning is unrestrained as his cum shoots out, seemingly never ending. This must be the hardest he’s ever cum. White pools on his tummy, beginning to drip down his sides. The sheets below him are a mess, a mixture of his cum and sweat soaking the bed. 

Satoru tosses his head back, taking in breaths as he tries to recuperate. You turn the dial completely off, even though you’d really like to see that happen again. After removing the electrodes, you look back down at the cum sprayed against him. You can’t resist. You drag your tongue up his skin, your eyes fluttering closed as you swallow his cum. 

Satoru looks down at you, chuckling to himself as you clean him up. His hand smooths down your hair before sliding to your cheek, where he strums your face. Once you’re all done, you glance up at him and see an evil smile on his lips. 

“Your turn.” 

If you want to be added to the taglist let me know. Just specify what you want to be added to.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I've been dreaming of the Ambitious King.

Long live the King of Beasts, he who shines like the sun.

He stands atop the heap, clutching victory in his righteous grasp.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

"We've come to finals of the interschool Spelldrive tournament!" an announcer blares over the stadium. "It's down to the wire, and this will be the deciding round. With the scores tied, it’s anyone’s game!!"

A crowd chomps at the bit for a winner to emerge from the field. They lean forward in their seats, clutch onto hope, stuff their mouths with soda and popcorn. This is a show, the players, actors, and they, the audience.

Leona allows himself a smirk.

We’ll give’m a real show-stopper then. That crown is as good as mine.

“What should our strategy be this time, sir?” a teammate—a Scarabia student—asks.

They’re huddled shoulder to shoulder, one student contributed from each of the seven dorms. Their allegiances may lie in different places, but they all wear the same black and violet uniform. They are all Night Ravens, united under one banner: his.

“We’ll finish this in a single decisive blow,” Leona replies, snapping his goggles on. “I’ll take the disc and score us that final point. The rest of you, cover me.”

“You heard the boss,” the smallest player says. It’s Epel, tiny but feisty—a contrast to his big blue eyes and lilac waves of hair. “Don’t worry, Leona-senpai! I’ll fer sure keep’m offa yer tail!”

“That’s what I like to hear, kid.” He raises his head and calls, “Clear!”

And with that, the players peel off into their own positions. The other team, uniforms pristine white and hemmed in royal blue, are patiently waiting. Leona pulls up to the center of the field where the referee and the opposing team’s leader await.

When he looks, he falters.

It’s a face that is frighteningly similar to his own.

The same skin color, the same lion ears and tail, the same construction of the features—if not softer and more friendly. His mane is held up in a ponytail, bright red-orange that fades into a golden yellow. He’s younger than he should be, missing the slight creases under his warm brown eyes and the lines that flank his perpetually smiling mouth.

“Falena?”

An icy dread creeps up from his core. The world around him seems to slow and come to a complete stop.

But this can’t be. My brother is 10 years older than me. He’s no longer a student, he’s—

“Leona? Is something wrong?” Falena inquires with a cheeky grin. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid to play against family.”

Annoyance flares up.

Brother or not, Leona detests that smile. The smile of a man that has robbed him of everything.

“Dream on,” he snarls back. “I’m overthrowing Royal Sword Academy and you."

The referee lets the disc drop and blows into his whistle. “BEGIN!!”

"Aaand it's started!!" the announcer declares.

His body instinctively kicks into action. He swipes the frisbee, keeping it afloat in a blaze of blood-red magic.

RSA swarm him, magical pens at the ready.

“Protect him…!” he hears Epel shout. “Protect the king!!”

His team charges, each of them trained on their target. NRC and RSA, reflecting the other, copying movements as they bound around on the field, seeking an opening or cutting it off.

Leona blows into enemy territory, furiously racing to the goal post.

"What's this?! It looks like Captain Kingscholar of the NRC team has already devised a plan to secure victory. They're closing off any aid the RSA team can offer to each other!"

The crowd revs up like an engine coming alive, a slumbering city waking. Blood thunders in his ears, louder than his audience.

"Oh no, you don't!"

"Oooh, and here comes the upset! It's Captain Kingscholar of the RSA team, come to interfere with the game plan!"

Leona swerves, and a stream of fire narrowly misses him. "Tsk!"

A flash of red and gold, and there's his brother at his side. "Sorry, Leona. It won't be that easy."

"Knock it off. I don't have time to play games with you!"

He dives, trying to shake Falena off--but he pursues, relentless in the chase. They thread each other in the sky, trading spells.

Explosions of heat and color. Shards of ice whizzing by, columns of water. Windy whips lashing at them. All-consuming light and darkness.

"This is amazing, folks! We are witnessing a brotherly quarrel the likes of which we've never seen before... Look at that dazzling display of flight technique and spellwork!"

Through it all, Falena' laughs.

So carefree, so cheerful. A knife twists in his chest, and the anger spikes again.

"That's enough...! I'm ending this," Leona snarls.

His magic collects in a single sphere. There is no body to it, no true shape--only a contained vortex of gales. They violently churn in an endless cycle, raising a storm in a jar.

He sends it hurtling at Falena, who moves to conjure a barrier--

Too late.

The ball expands, releasing its energy in one deep sigh. The audience is slammed back into their seats, the players blown to the ground or sent crashing into the bounds of the stadium. They're dazed, confused, scrambling to rebalance on their brooms.

The path, he sees, is clear.

Now...!

He lets out a monstrous roar and blitzes for the goal post. The disc sparkles, charging with power for the final blow as he gallops toward his prize.

The announcer hops back on, his voice frantic. "Could this be it?! Can Captain Kingscholar of the NRC team reclaim the throne from his brother?!"

Noise builds around him. RSA players calling out to each other, NRC players changing his name, the crowd cheering.

It's now or never.

Leona spikes the disc with all his might. It clears, the winning shot like a shooting star. Some golden object encapsulated in a blaze of fire.

The adrenaline in his blood sings with triumph. His tired muscles, his heavy breathing, the sweat upon his brow--badges of honor.

The sound intensifies, joined by whistles and shrieks. Feet stomping, hands clapping. People standing and hugging their neighbors. (Leona thinks he sees Crowley among them, sobbing uncontrollably.)

“This is incredible, ladies and gentlemen! You’ve just witnessed history being made today…! Night Raven College has snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, breaking Royal Sword Academy’s 99 year win streak!!"

Leona slowly returns to the ground, dismounting from his broom. He lands beside Falena, who is sprawled on his back and wearing the usual smile.

"Ahahah, looks like you beat me," he says casually.

"... Fool. Get up, you look ridiculous. The acting king of the Sunset Savanna shouldn't be rolling around in the dirt." Leona looks away, but awkwardly offers a hand.

Falena laughs and accepts it, hauling himself up. "That's a funny joke. When did you get a sense of humor?"

He scowled. "I didn't make one."

"Are you still half asleep? And you still beat me?" Falena punches him in the bicep. "That's my talented big bro."

"What... big bro?"

There it is again: something cold and sinister inside of him. The lingering feeling of wrongness.

Suddenly, the adrenaline in him turns toxic, and he feels as though his flesh and bones are burning. Leona seizes Falena by the shoulders and shakes him.

"What the hell is going on... Gaaah!"

A metallic screech fills the stadium. Pain blossoms in his ears, and Leona rushes to guard them, hands dropping away from Falena.

"Oops, sorry! Technical difficulties, folks!" the announcer apologizes. "It looks like even our equipment wants to cheer for Captain Kingscholar of the NRC team, the star player of today! Let's give him a round of applause!!"

They explode with excitement, Clapping and calling out louder than he can think.

"What a judicious young man!"

"He controls such powerful magic with ease...!"

He stands there, shocked, at the rain of adoration. Him, recognized? Respected, saluted, and seen as the wonder he is? Him?

His mind clouds.

What is this,,,?

"Leona-saaaan!!"

He turns, finding his teammates jogging over, Epel at the head. There are members of his own dorm with them--Ruggie, Jack.

"We gotcha now, Leona-san! Thought you could get away without getting your fur ruffled, huh?" Ruggie snickers, then gives Jack a thumbs-up. "Alright, fellas. You know what to do!"

"Hah, the hell is this? I didn't ask for a surprise after working my tail off."

"Sorry, Leona-senpai! Ruggie-senpai's orders!" Jack says very seriously. "This is the only way to give you a proper sendoff for carrying us to victory... You've earned it!"

"1, 2, 3...!"

"Wha...?!"

Leona is seized and hoisted into the air with a collective whoop of excitement. Tossed up, up, up. The stadium lights glaring, sound blasting.

He returns back to his peer's arms, and heaved up again. Down and up, down and up. Each pass makes him more nauseous, blinded and deafened by the dizzying joy.

"Long live the king! Long live the king!!" they chant.

The king... me? Leona fights against it, pushing as hard as he can.

But his body is tired, his mental capacities drained, his emotions worn. The situation, too sweet, too cloying.

I'm... the king... I won. This is my prize.

He closes his eyes and lets himself fall.

This time, for good.

When he opens them again, he swears he sees a dark figure flying high above the stadium. Not on a broom, but floating of his own accord. A pair of horns protrudes him his head, and he glimpses a pair of ghostly white hands clapping.

One additional spectator with glowing green eyes.

"Congratulations, Kingscholar."

[wonustars]

𝘚𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘭 ’𝘴 𝘓𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 (𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘳)

“𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴. 𝘪’𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶” - 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘦’𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘩

story inspirtation came from this poll pairing: c.sc x reader word count: estimated ~10k+ (this teaser: 983 words)

genre: friends to friends with benefits to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut (mdni)

summary: You and Seungcheol have been friends ever since you were kids. Growing up as neighbours, experiencing all the horrific adolescent moments in high school, and now going to the same University together. Even though you’ve denied it many times to your friends, part of you has always had feelings for him, not that you would ever say it out loud. He is the one person you can trust with anything and everything. So what happens when he propositions the idea of becoming friends with benefits? (the plot maybe change a little while i’m continuing to write but the overall theme will stay the same &lt;;3)

tags: bestfriend!seungcheol, nonidol!au, university!au, female!reader, mutual pining, slow burn so painful you'll feel it in your toes, they are one year apart, SLIGHT like extremely miniscule wonwoo x reader (for the angst mwahahaha), seungcheol is a jealous jealous man, they're both idiots, jeonghan is a menace as always, seungcheol has a lot of pride, so does the reader, (i'll add more once its finished lol)

warnings/smut: this will be added on in the full post.

taglist: open! send an ask, dm, or comment to be tagged for when i post the full fic.

notes: long time no post everyone.... a LOT of people voted for an s.coups story on my poll so i'm here to deliver mwahahahaha...ALSO im so proud of the banner i made like udek i love how it looks hehhehe, i spent a good hour or so on it T-T ! i really have an urge to write a longer story, so idk when i'll be finished because it may take me a while to finish so sorry in advance. I just started writing and I was playing Mikee's Letters by Just Hush during it and so i thought id incorperate the song into the story, but barely lol (its a tagalog song so sorry if the translation is a lil rough my tagalog is not the most accurate). this story is SOOOOOO self indulgnet that it should be criminal lol BUT im really excited to write this and im really excited to share it with everyone,,, but first i actually got to finish it hehe. talk to u soon, mwah <3!

As long as you could remember you and Seungcheol have been attached to the hip. Even though he was a year older than you, you couldn’t remember the last time you spent a day without him. You’ve been in each others lives ever since then, starting all the way from the young, bright age of 5, when you and your family moved into the small, humble house across his. Although your parents weren’t very well off, Cheol was. It was an odd thing that you two were neighbours because his house was much more grand, and nicer kept than yours. This didn’t really bother you growing up though, he always made you feel like an equal.  

Seungcheol has been with you through it all, the petty fights in middle school to the pains of adolescence in high school. He’s seen you at your worst, like the time you tripped and fell trying to impress a cute guy at school, which resulted in a nose bleed. You were so embarrassed but at the end of the day Cheol was there to help you clean your bloody nose and pick you back up. A true night and shining armor, which was practically his brand. He was the one to patch up your heart, breakup after breakup. Always your shoulder to lean on when you’re feeling down, and especially when you’re happy. 

A man and bestfriend like Choi Seungcheol didn’t come around very often, and you took notice of that since you were young. You cherish every moment you have and will have with him. He is a true gentleman with a heart of gold. He’s handsome, smart, rich and caring. Every single box on your list is ticked off when it comes to him. Yet, you know that no matter how hard you love him, you will only ever be his bestfriend. The girl he sees as practically his younger sister. The bittersweet feeling of being so close to him tugs your heart till its torn. It took you a long time to accept that all you’ll ever be is his bestfriend, and even now, you’re still trying to accept this fact. 

...

Seungcheol has always seen himself as your best friend. The man that will be there for you when you have no one else to turn to. He has never seen you as more than his best friend, his y/n. He is a man who never second-guesses himself, always keeping a strong-willed sense of mind. Every time one of his friends asked him if he had feelings for you, he would simply answer no; and that you were like a younger sister to him. 

That first year was lonely for him, he didn’t really know anyone and all his classes kept him away from socializing. The only thing that seemed to have stayed constant was you. You face-timed him at least once a week before he went to bed, never forgetting to remind him how much you missed him, and how much you cared for him. In the simplest words, you were his rock for that first year. 

Seungcheol was never warned about how lonely and jarring your first year could be. The change in place, people, and most importantly the change in the fact that you weren’t there experiencing it beside him. He was never one to believe clichè sayings, but he finally understood what the saying “distance makes the heart grow fonder” really felt like. He had gotten so overwhelmed from the loneliness he even began to write you letters, ones he would never actually send out, as cheesy as it sounds. But knowing that he was addressing them to you brought him some type of solace in that first year.

 A year later you came to study at the same university, and he was elated, to say the least. Finally, he had thought to himself. The one person he hadn’t been able to see, smell, or touch for a year was finally going to be in his proximity. 

Unlike Cheol, you were only able to go to this school through bursaries and scholarships, your parents simply just couldn’t afford to send you to school in a different city otherwise. It reminded you how lucky Seungcheol was to receive support from his parents, getting and going to school was nothing he had to ever think twice about. You knew you could’ve stayed with your family, and gone to school closer to your house, but with Cheol away, it just wasn’t the same. Nothing had felt the same since he left. But this didn’t matter to you the moment you felt his arms wrap around you again. 

You stood there in the airport all alone, eyes searching for a head of freshly dyed blond hair. The moment you heard his voice call your name, you knew you were finally home. 

“Y/n!” An excited, deep voice calls out for you. 

You whip your head around to see him. The man you hadn’t seen in so long, the man you were so desperately in love with. Your best friend. 

“Cheol!” A squeal escapes your lips, you run to him. He pulls you into a tight hug, wrapping his large hands around your smaller frame. Swinging you around like crazy, a laugh bubbles up from your throat. 

“I’ve missed you so much y/n.” Cheol exasperates as he hugs you tighter, leaving a kiss on the top of your head.

“I’ve missed you too Cheol…” You whisper into his chest, breathing in his expensive cologne, not caring that you are in public; staying there to embrace him for a weirdly long period of time. “Never leave for that long again.” 

[roosterforme]

How Old Are You? | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Bob only gets one birthday every four years. When his wife, Molly, realizes it's almost Leap Day, she throws him a party any nine year old would love. And it's the perfect celebration for a thirty-six year old, too.

Warnings: Fluff, adult language, implied smut, 18+

Length: 2500 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC!Molly (this story accompanies The Curveball)

Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Bob was half asleep in bed, post orgasm, when the weird conversation started. "So technically you're about to turn nine? Even though you'll be thirty-six? Is that right?"

He cracked his eyes open again as he watched his wife stretch her arms above her head, her nipple piercings glinting in the soft candlelight that had their bedroom aglow. She was nibbling on her lip, and he could practically see her mind working.

"Yeah," he answered cautiously. "Why do you have that expression on your face, Mo? Like you're plotting something scary?"

"I've never plotted something scary a day in my life!" she told him before leaning down and gently biting his bicep. "I was merely considering what I should get you for your special day."

"I don't need anything," he replied quickly, remembering the naked cowboy statue wearing glasses that she gifted to him last year.

"Well," she said, drawing out the single syllable. "That's where I think you're wrong, Bobby."

"Molly, I don't even want anything." Then he had an idea that he hoped would throw her off. "How about you get some pretty new barbells or rings and let me play with them?"

She rolled her eyes. "That would be a gift for me."

He shrugged as she draped herself across him. "Kind of for both of us when you really think about it."

Her soft lips found his jaw as she whispered, "But it's not every day you turn nine, Coach Cute Glasses. You deserve an extra special treat."

He shook his head in exasperation and said, "I'll really be thirty six though."

"Not according to the calendar." She kissed him sweetly before climbing over him to get out of the bed. "I'll go check on Charlie and Flora one last time before we go to sleep." Bob watched her slip his discarded undershirt on and smooth it down over her gorgeous body, perhaps a little more filled out now that they had two kids.

He reached for her hand and said, "Mo, we really need to sell the condo and get a bigger place. They can't share that tiny room forever."

Even though she told him all the time that she loved the condo and didn't want to leave it, she was finally starting to come around. "I think I'm ready to admit that you might be right about that, Uncle Bob."

"Really?" he asked, jolting up in bed.

She nodded and hummed. "Yes. Besides, your birthday party would be a lot easier to plan if we had more space to accommodate all the guests."

Bob groaned and flopped back down again, and Molly removed his glasses for him. "I don't need a birthday party," he insisted. "I just want a nice, quiet evening with you and the kids. Maybe your sister, Ev and Bradley, too, but that's it."

"We'll see," she replied before leaving the bedroom with a wicked smirk on her face.

----------------------------

"Can you get to my sister's house by noon on your birthday? For your party?" Molly asked as she watched Bob feed a mashed up banana to their one year old daughter. 

"I thought we ended that discussion with us both accepting the fact that I do not need a birthday party."

"Yeah... it's too late for that," she replied easily as she and Charlie both ate their own dinners. Molly's favorite hobby was keeping her husband on his toes. She figured his life would be sad and boring without her in it, and since he chose to be with her, he must have a deep-seated love for nonsense. She always made sure to bring it out for him, especially for his birthday. 

He gave her a stern look. "It's just a small party, right?"

"Sure, Bobby."

"I don't believe you."

"Oh come on," she whined. "This is your first real birthday since we met!"

She knew he would crack. He gave her what she wanted the vast majority of the time anyway, but when she whined for something harmless, it was always hers. 

"Fine."

And with that single word, Molly executed the most epic ninth birthday anyone could ever have. She called the vendors. She ordered the piñata. She invited the guests. She procured a balloon arch. And on Bob's birthday, her own sister and brother-in-law were looking at her with shocked expressions from their back deck when she started setting things up at eight in the morning. 

"I thought this was going to be a small party?" Bradley asked as he watched her assemble the red and yellow balloon arch. 

Molly just laughed. "That's just what I told Bob. I lied. The pony should be arriving soon."

"Pony?" gasped her sister. "I'm sorry, I must have misheard. Did you say a pony is arriving?"

"Yes," Molly said, speaking a little louder now to make her point. "How the hell are we supposed to have a cowboy birthday party without pony rides?"

Then Everett came tearing out onto the back deck, still in his pajamas, shouting, "Someone is bringing a horse around from the driveway!"

"See?" Molly asked as the pony and handler appeared in the backyard. "Ev is excited. He has good taste."

"He's ten!" Bradley snapped as he went running across the yard. "Is this thing going to tear up the grass that I spent months watering so it looked this nice?" But as soon as he saw how excited Everett was to pet the cute animal, Molly knew her brother-in-law would be on her side. It was just her sister glaring at her now.

"Whatever you mess up out here, you need to clean up. That includes the horse poop!"

"It's just a pony," Molly assured her, although the animal was a lot bigger than she expected. And yes, it was actually pooping. "It's fine. It'll be fine."

She was hoping it would be fine.

--------------------------

When Bob buckled Charlie and Flora back into their car seats in his truck at Myers park, he checked the time. It was almost noon. "Oh god," he groaned as he opened the driver's door. He had no idea what to expect, but the text from Bradley about how he was going to need help filling in the hoof prints in their yard next week had him on edge.

"Birthday party!" Charlie cheered from the backseat as Bob pulled out onto the main road. Molly had been talking about it so much, their son kept saying it over and over.

"That's right," Bob told him calmly. "But I'm pretty sure Mommy went bananas over the entire thing."

"Nana!" Flora crooned before she burst into tears. He should have known better than to mention her favorite food right in front of her like that. So he drove to his sister-in-law and brother-in-law's house with one delighted child and one who was crying hysterically. When he pulled down their block, there was absolutely nowhere to park, and there was a horse trailer parked right in front of the house. 

"Oh, no. No no no. Molly, no," he whispered. When he got closer, he saw the massive banner hanging on the porch that said Happy Birthday, Cowboy Bob. He had to squeeze his truck into the driveway behind the familiar blue Bronco while he gaped at the sight before him.

"Horse!" Charlie screeched. He wasn't wrong. There was some sort of pony walking around the backyard with Everett perched on top of the saddle wearing a cowboy hat. "I want the horse!"

"Okay," Bob told him as he shook his head and climbed out of the truck. He walked around to the back of the house with one child in each arm, and thankfully when Flora saw the pony, she stopped crying, perhaps out of fear. 

"Bob!" Molly shouted over the classic country music that was playing as she popped out of the enormous rodeo themed bounce house and ran to him. Literally everyone he'd ever seen in his life seemed to be here, and they were all wearing cowboy hats. Everyone from work was here. Like everyone. Cyclone was wearing a cowboy hat and drinking a beer. Bob thought he saw the doctor that Molly worked with who delivered both of their children. His parents and both of his sisters were here. His niece Piper was taking a turn riding the pony. There were indeed hoof prints in the yard.

Then Molly was somehow in his arms along with both kids, and she was kissing his neck as she said, "Happy birthday," in a voice that would have been a lot more appropriate for their bedroom. 

"Mo," he said, shaking his head. "There's a pony. It's making Bradley look constipated." 

She just rolled her eyes in response. "He'll get over it as soon as I offer to watch Everett for a few days over spring break so he and my sister can go away and do nasty stuff to each other."

Bob just smiled down at her and said, "You told me this would be a small affair."

"I guess I lied. Oops. Come say hi to Phoenix." She dragged him up onto the deck where Natasha took both kids from him with a kiss to his cheek, and then Molly was yanking his shirt over his head.

"What are you doing?" he asked, standing there in his undershirt with his glasses askew. But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, she was pulling another shirt over his head. It said Birthday Cowboy, and there was a number 9 that looked like it was shaped out of rope.

And that's when everyone started hugging him and running around to get him drinks and chat with him. Mickey was wearing cowboy boots and a cow print vest. Maverick was teaching the kids how to line dance. Bradley's scowl had started to ease up since Everett seemed to be having the time of his life. 

"Happy birthday, Uncle Bob," Everett said when he walked over. He hugged Bob and added, "Your birthday party is my favorite birthday party ever, and I can't believe it's in my yard!"

"Thanks, Ev," he replied with a laugh as he watched Molly and Flora dancing with Javy. "It is pretty cool."

"Happy birthday, Bob," his sister-in-law said, handing him a card. "You can open it later. We got you opening day tickets for the Padres. Also, I'm so sorry that my sister is so chaotic, but you should have known what you were getting into when you started dating her."

Bob accepted another kiss on his cheek. "She really can't be stopped once she gets going." 

"It's a waste of time to even try. Might as well sit back and enjoy the show."

He did, and the looser he got, the more fun he started to have. He pet the pony while Piper rode around on it. He smashed open a cowboy piñata with one of Everett's baseball bats. He jumped in the bounce house with Charlie and Everett, and Bradley even joined them.

"I'll help you fix your yard next week," Bob promised as Everett did a backflip. 

Bradley just laughed and said, "It's hard to be mad about it when Molly just wants everyone to have the time of their life. You're very lucky. Also, I don't know how you deal with her on a daily basis."

Bob laughed, too. "Sometimes I just take it one hour at a time."

"Get ready for cake!" Molly shouted, and it took five people to carry out the biggest sheet cake he'd ever seen in his life. It was cow print and decorated with boots and spurs, and said Happy 9th Birthday, Cowboy Bob!

After he blew out the nine candles he reached for Molly. "Thank you," he whispered, kissing her softly. "I didn't know I needed a ninth birthday party, but I guess I really did."

"You're only a kid once, Bobby," she replied, smiling against his lips.

"You do know I'm actually thirty-six, right?" he asked, pulling her snug against him as her sister started to cut up the cake. 

"Not according to the calendar," she responded, patting him gently on the cheek. "Your mom and I had a lovely conversation about how terrible you look for your age."

He tried not to smile, but it was useless. "I'm actually having the best day, Mo."

"I knew it all along."

---------------------------

Both kids were sound asleep as soon as Molly tucked them into bed. Charlie went on a sugar high and then crashed, and Flora was played with and held by seemingly everyone at the party. They would probably sleep for a solid twelve hours. Which was good, because Molly wanted to give her husband the rest of his birthday presents. 

She found him in their bedroom where he was opening up the cards he got with a soft smile on his face. "You have so many friends," she told him, and he turned to look at her. "Everyone loves Bob Floyd."

He actually blushed which made her want to rip all of his clothing to shreds and have her way with him. He shook his head slightly and said, "Everyone loves the amazing Molly Floyd and her beautiful imagination."

"Bobby," she moaned softly, taking the card from his hand and wrapping her arms around him. "Tell me more about how amazing I am."

He laughed and whispered, "You threw me the equivalent of a kids' ninth birthday party, just because you could. My dad participated in the pie eating contest. My mom learned how to line dance. Bradley almost popped a vein in his forehead. It was wonderful."

She sighed in contentment. "In four more years when you turn ten, we'll be in a bigger house, and we can host your party there. But we'll have to wait and see if you're still into cowboys or if your interests change, Kiddo. Now will you please open your present from me? And put on your cowboy hat? I've always wanted to suck a real cowboy's cock."

Bob grinned. "Molly, you suck my cock when I'm wearing my cowboy hat all the time."

"But you've never had assless chaps before."

Bob let out a strangled sound, and when he opened the box that was wrapped in cowboy paper, there were in fact assless chaps inside. "Please, please, please put them on," Molly moaned. "God, I feel like it's my birthday."

As soon as she started whining, he always gave her what she wanted. It was impossible not to. Five minutes later, Bob was standing in the middle of the bedroom wearing the chaps, his birthday shirt, and his old cowboy hat. Molly was panting and biting her knuckle, already obviously raring to go down on him, which just made him harder.

But she took a step toward him and then stopped, a devilish smirk on his face. "Now wait. I'm having a bit of a moral dilemma with you in that shirt. How old are you again?"

"I'm thirty-six," he replied blandly. 

"You sure about that, Cowboy Bob?"

"Molly! I'm thirty-six!"

"Okay, okay. Just checking," she said, reaching for the bottom of his shirt. "But let's just remove this anyway."

------------------------

I had a blast revisiting these two! I'm so deeply in love with Molly. I hope you enjoyed Bob's birthday celebration. Thanks for reading! And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

@thedroneranger

@theamuz

@cherrycola27

@katiedid-3

@yuckosworld

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-magnolia

@avaleineandafryingpan

@t-nd-rfoot

@wkndwlff

@eddiemunsonreader

@wintercap89

@the-fever-of-mankind

@sio-ina-bottle

@lovingperfectionsblog

@daisydont-lie

@sappy-seresin

@birdy-bat-writes

@cutelittlefakejourneys

@cottagecori

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@sotalife

@novastories

@xoxabs88xox

@rileyanntoinette

@mannsachds

@midnightmagpiemama

@greatszu

@zetasaturno99

@lovingrobertfloyd

@taytaylala12

@captain-fandomwriter58

@grxcisxhy-wp

@hobireasns

@wolfquake23

@smileybouquet

@paintlavillered

@seitmai

@tigermoon3

@noonenuts

@amiets2

@sylviebell

@imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog

@lonelysoul50

@sweetwhispersofchaos