#I’m a bit teary eyed because I never thought I’d live a life I’d be happy to come home to�� | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hansolmates · 5 years ago

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a hero’s journey (m)

summary; jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story pairing; jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; best friend’s boyfriend au, slice of life, angst with a happy ending because im weak, pining pINING, everyone’s kind of a mess in their own sweet special way, alcohol use, mentions of ze weed, toxic relationships, mean friends, sex—slight dom!kook, food play, fingering, squirting, heavy use of the petname “pretty girl” bc im weak, strength kink, manhandling (oop!) w.c; 22.2k a/n; woof! my first fic for @goldenclosetnetwork 23 | jungkook’s birthday project! this goes out to all the closet romantics *ahem me cough* who doesn’t love pining between a cutie koo? a huge thank u for vivi @eerieedits for making this bbbBEAUTIFUL fic banner!

prompt used: “I should’ve known.”

if you like this fic pls consider giving a like n’share🥺💜🥺💜

It’s so easy to ignore the world.

Maybe it’s a young-adult thing, but it gets difficult fitting into the 9-to-5 and playing to satisfy bosses that don’t entirely understand your work ethic. Maybe it’s out of complacency, or fear. But you prefer to let the world flow around you and when you’re needed, you’ll act. You’ve reached that point in your life where you enjoy the little things, satisfied by an extra hour of overtime tacked onto your paycheck, a new fabric softener, or finding the perfectly squishy yoga mat.

You’ve finally started feeling comfortable in your shoes, uncaring as to whether you’re single or drowning in college debt, happy to live a relatively stable life. You’re grateful. There’s nothing more than you need than your happiness, and the love of your friends and family.

Namely, your best friend from college. Jisoo always joked about how you two “won the lottery” as dorm rooms in freshman year were determined by lottery. Pulling numbers 883 and 884, you and Jisoo snagged a corner spot of the dormitory, leaving you two utterly cramped but utterly close as the years went by. Six years later and it’s still the case, the two of you have grown into talented working ladies. While you may not be able to spend time with each other the same way you did in school, you still care for each other.

So when Jisoo shows up teary with a rumpled dress shirt and her hair waterfalling out of this morning’s bun, you break out the good alcohol and season three of Jane the Virgin for her.

After the liquid is warm in your cheeks and you’ve fawned enough over Micheal and Rafael’s love triangle, you let Jisoo ramble.

Jisoo has downed a whole bottle of soju on her own, while you’ve decided to have a tasteful glass of wine. You’d rather be tired wine drunk than wasted on soju.

“Jungkook and I had a fight,” she warbles, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth, “it was totally stupid.”

Your eyes flash, picturing Jisoo and Jungkook in quarrel. They’re the epitome of an Instagram-worthy couple, beautiful and deathly charming to a fault. They show nothing but kindness and sweetness to you whenever you third-wheel, not a lick of anger between them when you’re all together.

So a fight is something surprising. Jisoo and Jungkook, J-squared are a power couple. Saying their names next to each other just emits a sort of energy you can only akin to famous small screen couples like Troy and Gabriella or Cory and Topanga. Jisoo’s Instagram is belly full with sweet selfies of them together, the doe-eyed man always looking completely sweet and gentle to the woman in his arms.

You never piqued Jungkook as the type of guy who would pick a “stupid fight.” And you know Jungkook pretty well.

Maybe a little too well.

“He surprised me during my lunch break and he caught me talking to Doyoung and he thought I was flirting,” Jisoo is practically eating her sweater, her head falling between her flannel pyjama sleeves.

“Doyoung, as in your ex Doyoung?” you raise a brow.

She groans, glaring at you in earnest. “Not you, too! I told him it was ridiculous to get jealous, and then I told him how jealous I get when he’s around girls and I don’t need to tell him that,” she rolls her eyes, twisting her feet petulantly in her fuzzy socks, “but then you know what he says back?”

You wince, swirling your wine glass, “That you’re crazy?”

“That I’m crazy, exactly! How did you—” her bloodshot eyes zero in on you, where you’ve tucked yourself in the corner of the couch. You swirl the ruby liquid in your cup, watching the feet web around the cheap crystal, “you think I’m crazy too, don’t you?”

You swallow your sigh, taking your time to finish your liquid in languid sips. Uneasy, you wish you could just sink through the couch in order to avoid this conversation. Jisoo’s heart is generally in the right direction, but in terms of emotions she has the kind of sensitivity that you prefer to ignore rather than tread. Jungkook is also equally emotional, but in a different way. He wears his heart on his sleeve, preferring to keep things straight as opposed to bottling it up like Jisoo.

However the theoretic bottle has reached it’s brim and Jisoo’s tipping, fast.

“I need to tell you something,” Jisoo is swerving, crawling like an infant on wobbly limbs to reach your corner of the couch. You almost stop her, tell her you can continue this conversation in the morning, it’s what you normally do when she drinks into a stupor. But tears are swimming in her glassy caramel eyes and she’s grappling onto your blanket, resting her head in her lap.

Her glossy russet strands curtain her head, so you don’t see the expression on her face when she says her next words:

“Jungkook told me he liked you senior year, and I told him you weren’t interested so I’d have a chance.”

Wow. So that explains everything.

The memories that you’ve tried so hard to brush away, the feelings you’ve tried so hard and continue to try to suppress, are laid out in front of you on a rusted platter. You could laugh, you could fling the rest of the Pinot Grigio down your throat like fresh water on a hot day and call it a night.

But instead you choke back your tears, and push her off because you’re hurt.

Deep down you know you would’ve been less upset if she told you the week after Jisoo and Jungkook called it official. If you knew from the beginning, it would’ve been easier on your heart. But it's been over two years since the past, thinking you’ve been needlessly, stupidly, delusional in thinking that you could’ve possibly had a chance with Jungkook.

Because it could’ve been you. And the reason why Jisoo and Jungkook fought today? Now you know it’s because deep down, they know they’re each other’s second choice.

You can’t even recall a time where Jungkook and Jisoo were together alone before they suddenly started dating, remembering how it used to be you and Jungkook before Jisoo found him one day in your shared apartment, utterly smitten. And now you know you weren’t delusional, because the feelings and the signals you two were exchanging in senior year was real.

But it doesn’t stop the fact that over two years have passed. Two years of a serious relationship between Jisoo and Jungkook, and two years of you secretly loving him from an arm’s length.

“You hate me,” Jisoo removes herself from you, voice trembling. The quick, dark part of your mind wants you to snap back of course I hate you. You’ve trusted Jisoo with your life all these years, she was the reason you got through college so gracefully, why you enjoyed the past seven years of your life.

But the sentiment is stained, and all you can do is deliver a tired smile and stand up. “I don’t hate you,” you say, “I’m just, really overwhelmed. I can’t lie and say that I’m not hurt,” your fingers clutch the fake crystal in your grasp, and for once you’re thankful you’re not strong enough to break it, “but you two love each other now and there’s no point in dwelling in the ‘what-ifs’.”

Now that you think about it, when was the last time Jisoo treated you like a best friend? You stare at your wine glass, thinking that the only time comfort is provided in this apartment is when Jisoo is upset, never when you’re upset.

Jisoo bobs her head senselessly, agreeing to every word. It’s pathetic, seeing her on her knees and her eyes glimmering with the hope that you’d forgive her straightaway. She must feel awful. That’s good.

You sigh, needing to be the bigger person. “You need to call Jungkook and tell him he has nothing to worry about though, after all, you two have history now. As much, if not more than Doyoung.”

“Right,” she replies, biting her lip. It suddenly feels like you're talking to a wall, carrying a conversation that's long ended.

“As for us,” you have half a mind to slam your glass on the counter, but instead you give it a heavy hand, letting slowly thump to the coffee table, “I don’t think I want to see you two, for a while.”

“Understandable.”

“And I don’t want to help you move out anymore,” I just want you gone.

“Right,” she whispers. The both of you will be completed with your lease in two months, and Jisoo and Jungkook have decided to move into Jungkook’s apartment. As for you, you haven’t decided as to whether you want to go through the whole process of moving out or looking for a new roommate.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so fucking sorry. I just was insecure as fuck in college and Jungkook was the first person I met in a long time that helped me feel more… like me.”

You want to say that she's right, she’s selfish. Her excuses aren’t palpable anymore. It’s too late. But if you were in Jisoo’s shoes, you’d think this apology is mere crumbs in comparison to your friendship. Why isn't she trying harder? Maybe because she doesn't know any better. After all, you never told her what you felt for him has morphed into love.

You don’t even have to ask as to whether she’ll tell Jungkook this or not, you now know honesty is not her style.

Jisoo doesn’t get a goodnight and a drunken kiss on the forehead like she usually does whenever you two have your late night talks. Instead, she seals herself to her own demise as you slam the door to your bedroom, effectively shutting each other out.

Work is a bitch the following morning. You’re like molasses, rolling out of bed despite the whole world and its mother telling you to go back to sleep.

Your feet are killing you as you make your walk to work, deciding to wear a pair of red-backed heels so you can stomp your way through your day.

Your Wusband (Work-Husband) Kim Namjoon matches you step-for-step, eyes glued to his phone as he catches you on the sidewalk. “Woman on a mission,” he comments absentmindedly, eyes glued to his phone as he follows the click of your shoes to your favorite cafe.

You spare a glance to your right hand-man, eyeing him appreciatively at his dedication to your morning routine. He’s your favorite co-worker, one who keeps you on time to your meetings and keeps you sane when you want to pull your hair out and dig out a coffin in your little cubicle. Namjoon’s long legs always seem to catch up with you during your workweek, whether it’s to get coffee in the morning or to talk shit about the latest gossip in the breakroom.

The bell of the glass door tinkles in your ears as you enter the café, relatively busy for the morning rush. While you wait in line, Namjoon ticks off your activity list for today.

“Meeting with Victoria is cancelled this morning,” you groan in relief, your supervisor Victoria always scares the shit out of you even when she’s not doing anything, “and just the usual proofing and whatever we have to do on the third floor today—can I get a large iced Americano with a pump of caramel? Thanks,” Namjoon moves aside so you can throw your order in as well, “and after work could you stop by Vernon’s? He took a sick day today and he has most of the manuscripts for the next issue.”

“Done and done,” you swipe your card in the dip, tucking your card away in your zippered pouch. “So like, do Americanos taste any good? Like it’s literally watered down espresso how do you pay to drink watered down tar—”

Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter. Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter swirling stray sugar crystals with his thumb and putting them in his napkin. What an impeccable display of Virgo energy, absentmindedly cleaning things he has no business doing. You scoff to yourself, recalling this morning that Jisoo got off the phone this morning with a stupid smile on her face. From the mirror image that Jungkook is excluding while he’s smiling on his cellphone like a smitten teenager, it seems like they’ve made up.

Nevertheless the hurt from last night is still fresh in your bones, and you force yourself to look away despite the fact that your morning pick-me-ups are almost done and are sitting tauntingly next to Jungkook’s elbow. Does he really need to learn against the counter like he owns it? Hair slightly damp from the shower, your heart beats a little faster at the fresh image.His biceps are straining against his charcoal lycra long sleeve, which is slightly damp from his morning run. Snap out of it! You are a mature, working woman who does not swoon in the view of bulgy muscles, especially when the man who owns those muscles is taken. Suddenly there’s a call of your name, and two cups and a paper bag are put in front of Jungkook.

He blinks, and you immediately pale when you see his eyes flit over your name surrounded by your favorite coral pink beverage. You feel struck as his head perks up at the name and he narrowly makes eye-contact—

“The fuck you’re doing,” Namjoon gripes, shoving your guava iced tea and croissant in your chest, “standing there like a moron as if we don’t got shit to do today.”

“Sorry,” you mumble, pulling at the brown paper bag to tug a piece of croissant between your teeth. The warmth, buttery pastry melts in your tastebuds. Ah, bread. Nothing like a little bit of carb to make you feel better.

You’re suddenly thankful for Namjoon’s gargantuan torso from effectively blocking you from Jungkook, hauling you out of the coffee shop like a petulant toddler. He doesn’t even give you a chance to catch another secret look at the object of your affections, making sure you’re back in your work game before you enter the building. Even if he doesn’t know it, Kim Namjoon’s always got your back.

Or in today’s case, breathing down your back.

Without your third editor and a hard deadline coming up by the end of the week, you and Namjoon are working in tandem throughout your 9-5 to complete drafts for Big Hit Publishings Arts & Media section. Both of you take turns to bring snacks and feed each other, feeling like reading zombies and slaves to your desk as you remind each other to breathe throughout the whole ordeal.

In complete honesty you don’t totally mind. Namjoon is a great partner-in-crime, and you both love what you do and do a damn good job at it. You call it “Buzzfeed but with Benefits.”

And at least for today, you could quell the feelings in your chest from last night and this morning. Sure, you’ve always been okay with the pining you’ve had for Jungkook. The feeling comes and goes whenever it pleases, and since yesterday you’ve been okay with just admiring from afar and being their third wheel.

However, now the feelings are acutely comparable to a third-degree burn with the help of Jisoo playing with fire.

With a quiet exhale, you concede in your gaming chair (because it’s just so damn comfy to keep in the office.) You’re an adult and not a petty child, and you will not let this piece of information derail you from your calm, stable lifestyle.

But honestly? Fuck Jisoo.

“Let’s go, buckaroo,” Namjoon logs off for you, the cinnamon-y smell of his shampoo effectively waking up your senses, “it’s already 5:30. And you said you’d stop by Vern’s to get his drafts.”

“Right,” you blurt, mindlessly putting away your papers and snack wrappers in your bag. You can’t believe the whole day’s gone already.

“Maybe you don’t even have to go to his apartment. Just text him or whatever.”

“Sounds good, thanks Joonie.”

“And y/n?” Namjoon gives you a look that causes you to force a terse smile, one you give one too many times to higher-ups at work. It isn’t to insult Namjoon by any means, but you guys are partners, the kind that tell way too much but hide just enough to remain close from afar. “Take it easy, will you?”

“I will,” you concede, stretching your arms, “I’m def overdue for a massage.”

“You don’t look sick,” you scoff, taking in the casual look your co-editor boasts as he leans casually against the doorway.

Hansol Vernon Chwe is the epitome of fluffy, decked out in large electric blue sweats and his russet brown hair curling softly above his porcelain skin. Not only is he your co-editor, but also a friend from college. Not to the extent that you were with Jisoo and Jungkook, but you operated in the same publishing club and managed to get partnering internships that made you the co-workers you are today. You see a little bit of that collegiate youth in Vernon right now, as he looks well-rested and fresh faced despite the fact he probably didn’t apply moisturizer or drink enough water today.

“But you kinda do,” he tilts his head, noting the heels that adorn your feet, “you’re wearing your sexy shoes today, that means something’s going on.”

“Gee, ever the ladies’ man,” you scoff, getting under his arm to invite yourself inside, “all I want is the completed interviews so we can pick out the best parts and draft them. Then I’ll be on my merry way.”

“Oh c’mon, we’ve been talking nothing but work this whole damn month. What happened to college when we’d talk hours about House Hunters, the safeness of library sex, that little furry thing in Lincoln Hall’s urinal? That was prime conversation.”

“Vern, I’m just here for the drafts,” you sit at his tiny kitchen table, glaring at his open laptop.

“You could’ve just emailed me,” he teases, twisting around his chair so he can rest his arms against the back. “But since you’re here, that means you probably wanna spill some tea but you’re too upset to admit it.”

“If I talk will you stop talking like that?”

“Yes. Give me the juicy details. Need some juicy juice.”

“Nevermind, get out of my apartment.”

“Uh, this is my apartment.”

“My point still stands,” you make another face at his outfit, “you look like the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.”

Vernon purses his lips, scooting his chair closer to yours. He’s unfazed by your insult, far used to your defenses being higher up than Fort Knox. He looks up at you with his pretty lashes and deceivingly sweet caramel eyes, leaning his head along the backrest. “C’mon, tell me what’s bothering you,” he says in a gentle tone, coaxing you open.

He always knew how to do it for you, a little bit of sweet talking and that clear open gaze always reduced you to shreds in university. For him, it always took a good meal and some sci-fi movies to get him to talk. That must be why you’ve stayed friends for so long, you two knew how to connect.

Finally you crack, kicking off your shoes and hoping the sharp end doesn’t land on his cat. You hear Luna meow in protest but she’s got great reflexes. Unbuttoning the first three buttons of your stuffy blazer, you air out your cleavage, not caring about Vernon’s gaze. He’s seen worse.

“Remember Jeon Jungkook? Majored in graphic design.”

“Ah, yeah. The guy who like, lived at the gym and the dining hall? Haven’t seen him in a minute,” his eyes seem to glaze over the glory days, reminiscing in the simultaneous safetynet and stressor that made up your early twenties, “didn’t you guys hit it off real well? Like I remember you ditched like—three sci-fi nights to study with him. Who even studies at 1AM?”

“Yeah, we did,” and you can’t help but frown at as you remember the 7-Eleven runs, the utter warmth you felt when he would wipe a stray rice grain off your cheek, and how happy you felt to laugh so much with him it hurt, “but uh. Jisoo got drunk last night, because they had a fight. And she sort of admitted to me that she sabotaged our relationship and told Jungkook I wasn’t interested in him so they could start dating. Two years later and here we are.”

A pause. And then, “Want a beer?”

Vernon doesn’t even wait for a response when he gets up, bare feet slapping against the tile as he prepares some drinks and snacks for you.

“That’s pretty fucked up,” he practically sing-songs among the cacophony of popcorn pop-pop-popping in the microwave. The aroma of buttery kernels is all but a relief, reminding you of movie matinees, “and like, she knew you liked him! It was totally obvious, even if you didn’t spell it out for her.”

“Yeah,” you practically gushed to Jisoo those past two months, every waking moment with heart-eyes over the talented graphic designer Jeon Jungkook.

“I can’t believe Jisoo would keep that a secret from you for so long. Like, can you even trust her anymore?”

“Don’t know, was she even my bestfriend or was I just a good roommate to her?” you ask. Vernon is holding two beers in one hand and a bag of popcorn by the tips of his fingers in the other, careful to not burn himself. Opening the beer for you, you thank him and take a long swig.

“Well, good thing you’re still not in love with him or whatever. That would really suck. Unless—”

The look on your face says it all. You’re practically snotting into your bottle, your face tucked into your chin as you fight hard to stop the tears you’ve been suppressing for the last two years. “Don’t give me your pity,” you garble, turning away from the sad look Vernon gives you as he wraps his arms around you.

The tears are soft and gentle, flowing freely onto the cotton of Vernon’s arms as you let it out.

“‘M’not,” he concedes, rubbing his chin into your neck. He really is a lot like Luna, just like his cat ready to give you affection. “Let’s just, get some take-out and watch Hamilton or something.”

He lets you wear his matching sweat suit, lime green, as you order Thai food and rap along to Hamilton’s sick beats. Vernon does a better job keeping the flow, but you’re having a good time being his hype man as he parades around the living room like it’s 1776.

You go home that night around ten o’clock, feeling noticeably lighter and more relaxed. Be that it may you are still wearing the sweatpants and heels ensemble, you feel comforted.

The apartment is quiet when you walk in, not a single light turned on. You get a slice of the city lights bleeding in from the organza curtains, which allow you to kick off your heels and hobble to where you think the kitchen counter is.

Today is Jisoo’s day to cook dinner. You can tell she decided to cook today from the faint smell of Japanese curry and a small unwashed plate in the sink. Whenever it was someone’s turn, they usually left an extra bowl or serving in it for the other roommate when they got home. Unsurprisingly, you find no such thing on the counter or in the fridge.

You’re not upset, but rather decided. If Jisoo is going to let your friendship fade off with no intention of redeeming herself, then you should give her the same amount of energy back. You realize now the apology she gave last night wasn’t for you, but empty words to make her feel better and mend whatever toxicity she’s created in her own relationships. People like Namjoon and Vernon reminded you that you didn’t need to try and earn other people’s friendships.

It’s disappointing, but the feeling is all but too familiar.

If you could describe Jisoo as anything, it would be the color pink. Blushing, beautiful, beguiling pink. The way she flushes when Jungkook does an uncalled for grandiose gesture of romance, or when she wears a hot magenta number when she’s hosting a fashion show. Jisoo is the personification of La vie en rose, unbothered and unabashed.

But now all you see when you think of Jisoo? Nothing but red.

With that, you go in your room and untack the polaroid of you and Jisoo at the carnival last month, putting it away in your junk drawer to be forgotten.

“You’re running away.”

“Am not.”

“Are too,” that interjection comes from Vernon’s roommate, Jung Hoseok. He’s been watching you two bicker over work for the past hour while he plays GTA5, failing to get a good hard carry because you and Vernon are too busy discussing whatever finishing touches you need on your final draft.

“No one asked for your opinion, Jung,” you throw over your shoulder.

“I’m just saying,” Hoseok flicks his wrist and nabs a tank, “you never wanna go home, you eat all our food, and I found your pyjamas in my laundry basket.”

“You said your basket was the blue one,” you hiss under your breath.

“The navy blue one,” Vernon chirps unhelpfully, “not the electric blue one.”

Hoseok hits “save” on his campaign, disconnecting from his PS4 and stretching his lean limbs. “I mean, we could use a third roommate,” Hoseok jokes, getting up from the couch and grabbing a handful of M&Ms from your bowl, “you do make a bomb mac n’cheese.”

“Appreciated,” you relent when Hoseok presses a kiss to your cheek and tells Vernon he’ll be back late working, leaving you and Vernon alone in their shared apartment. When Hoseok is gone, you stare at the door, tilting your head, “y’know,” you remark, “Hoseok’s a cool guy, why did I never hang out with him in college?”

“Because he was stoned the majority of senior year and you just didn’t vibe with that crowd.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“But, you’re trying to change the subject,” Vernon carefully untacks your hands from your keyboard, knowing that you two have already been done with this month's issue and you’re now just mindlessly re-reading emails. “You’ve been here since Thursday, and now it’s Saturday. And as much as Hoseok and I like having you around so you can wake me up before we go to work, it’d be nice to throw me a bone and let me in on what you’re thinking right now.”

You frown, noting Vernon’s large hand covering your laptop closed. He isn’t going to remove his hand anytime soon unless you talk. “Jungkook’s helping Jisoo pack up her half of the apartment this weekend and I don’t want to be there,” you say, short and simple.

“You miss her?”

“Yeah,” you admit honestly. You hate this version of yourself, unable to even look at Jisoo nowadays despite the fact you’re under the same roof for the remainder of the month. It’s hard to believe that the roommate from six years ago finally got under your skin, cancelling out all the years of friendship because of one silly relationship, “sad she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.”

“Did you talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you reply despondently, “if she cared at all she would’ve to apologize again by now.”

Vernon figures, and his neutral expression doesn’t change as he leads you to the couch, brushing away Hoseok’s things so you two can get comfy. You busy yourself with the remote, exiting the PS4 homepage to scroll Netflix.

“And are you trying to get over him?”

“I mean, yeah,” you have been, but it’s a little hard when you’ve been contentedly pining. It was easy to keep your feelings bottled up because you originally thought Jisoo and Jungkook were meant to be for each other for the past two years. Now you're still pining but ruefully bitter at Jisoo.

“It’s not fair, y’know. She broke girl code, bros before hoes. Or is it chicks before dicks?” Vernon shakes his head at his lame attempt to get you to smile, which works anyway because Vernon’s silly and his sense of humor always gets you a little loose. “It’s your house too, you shouldn’t feel like you don’t belong there.”

“Well I was supposed to help her move out this weekend, and I’d prefer it if Jungkook didn’t know what was going on.”

“What?” your friend furrows his thick brows together, tucking his hands under his knees as he leans into your stubborn expression. “You’re gonna let Jungkook go on with his life not knowing that his relationship is based on a lie. That’s not cool. Even if you’re into him, he’s still your friend.”

Damn, when did Vernon get so good at giving advice? Truth is Vernon’s always been good at dishing advice, you’ve just been privy to what you wanted to reveal to him. The first year or so being together outside of college was always about work, saving each other’s asses to ensure you two got that promotion and aim higher and higher. Now that goal is out of the way, and what better way to reconnect over some shoddy romance straight out of a Degrassi special?

“I know,” you hug your knees tight to your chest, “when I’m ready, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees, because he’s not a pusher, “do you know the best way to get over someone?”

“What?”

“The best way to get over someone, is to get under someone," he emphasizes that point with his hands, sliding one under the other with a wiggle of his thick brows.

You slap him on the shoulder, “Vern, you disgust me.”

“But it works!”

“I’m not going on Tinder to find a fuckbuddy.”

“You don’t have to look on Tinder or Tumble.”

“Bumble.”

“Whatever,” and his eyes flicker to his lap, where his pale fingertips turn red as he grips the edge of a throw pillow. "If you really don't wanna find someone, I can help."

Is Vernon offering himself up? He is offering to fuck your brains out in the hope that you could inevitably fuck out your interest in Jungkook? Your eyes flicker over to Vernon's form on the couch, who's tucked in the couch just as you are.

It’s true that you find Vernon attractive, and to some extent he definitely finds you attractive as well otherwise he wouldn’t have suggested the idea. It’s just that in college you never viewed him in that kind of light, probably because you were always so caught up in Jungkook. But tonight you can’t seem to ignore the eagerness hidden in Vernon’s carmine gaze, and how shiny and touchable his chocolate locks look under the setting sun.

“I don’t want our friendship to change,” you reply slowly, furrowing your brows. “I appreciate it, but I don’t know. It sounds like a temporary fix.”

“Can’t knock it if you don’t try it,” and out of curiosity, you don’t shy away when Vernon leans over to you, squeezing himself between the couch so he can tuck you in his arms. “I want to help you, but only if you want to.”

Maybe it’s the frustration you feel with Jisoo, Jungkook’s ignorance, or the fact that you haven’t felt physical pleasure in such a long time, but you soften into Vernon’s hold. He’s relaxed, nothing betraying him as he waits patiently for your answer. You’ve always admired how much he kept up his “cool as a cucumber” demeanor. He isn’t the type of guy to let life pass him by, but he’s the kind of person who walks along life, embracing the ups and downs like old friends. He’s the ocean waves that crest along the shore, pushing and pulling along without a care in the world.

He’s the textbook opposite of Jeon Jungkook, which is why you give Vernon the okay to lean in and press his lips against yours.

His kisses are soft, and he takes great care in making sure you’re comfortable with this new step in your relationship. It almost feels as if you’re cutting corners, and you can’t help but feel a little guilty that you revel in the way Vernon’s hands trail under your too-large t-shirt.

The pleasure you’ve ached for is there, bubbling low in the pit of your belly. It’s hard to get you out of your mind however, because this man isn’t the one you love. His kisses hold no power, only brief reprieve. Your heart doesn’t palpitate and your palms don’t sweat, you’re just languid.

You’re greedy and selfish, but you remind yourself that it’s okay to allow yourself of these freedoms, even for a little bit. As Vernon finds your sweet spot that has you rolling your hips against his, you find that temporary fix isn’t a bad start at all.

When you trudge back to your apartment that night after much reluctance, your face is still flushed and you think you smell a little too much like Vernon’s cologne. But the fact that still stands is that you're satiated, and you feel a tiny percent closer to moving on.

The television is glowing with a terrible reality TV show, angry brides upset over cake layers or whatever. Jungkook and Jisoo have fallen asleep on the couch, surrounded by half-empty boxes. Jungkook has his arm lazily over Jisoo, her petite body fitting perfectly between his chest and the crook of his neck.

You scoff when you spy Jisoo's bedazzled manicure digging into Jungkook's bicep, as if someone's going to take him away if she doesn't hold tight.

With stiff muscles you spare one look at Jungkook, ignoring the pang in your chest as you weave between boxes to turn the TV off. Barely an iota of your feelings have dissipated since your previous tryst with Vernon not an hour ago. Looking at Jungkook brings it all back, unfortunately. You suppose the feelings will pass with time. The soft hum of the television ceases, and you’re bathed in a room that feels dark and empty, despite the apparent life in the room.

There’s some bleary talk coming from the couch as you walk to your bedroom, and if Jungkook is sleepily mumbling your name in question, you pretend you don’t hear.

“So, where’s y/n? I thought she was going to help us pack.”

It’s an innocent enough question, as Jungkook scans the corner of the living room hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You haven’t come out yet. He knows that you love sleeping in on the weekends, but he hopes the smell of fresh food will coax you to the table. His pan is sizzling in protest, telling Jungkook to quit talking and flip the hashbrowns. He's fried up three, in the hopes you’d be up for some crispy potatoes. He knows how much you love potatoes, especially at 2AM when you’re craving fries and a McFlurry combo.

Instead Jisoo mutters, “You toasted too much bread, you know I don’t eat bread like this,” she’s pulling slice by slice out of the toaster, until there’s a stack of six golden toasts in the middle of the kitchen table.

A little part of him wishes to quell the precursor to the argument there. It would be so easy for Jungkook to say, “the extras are for me” because he’s trying to gain weight, and that would be that.

Instead he continues with his unanswered question and replies honestly, “I made extra toast for y/n, babe. She was supposed to help us pack but I haven’t seen her all weekend.” But he’s pretty sure you came home last night, unless that was his imagination.

Jisoo pulls a carafé of apple juice out of the fridge, pouring the amber liquid into two glass cups. “Ah, she said she had some last minute things to do for work. Y’know, Big Hit always wants a big hit.”

He chuckles, tilting his head as Jisoo gives him a small smile from the kitchen table. Jisoo is always good at cheesy jokes. “She must love her job, huh.”

“Yeah.”

“Her articles are really good, too,” the air smells like butter and Italian seasoning, as he places one hash brown on Jisoo’s plate, and two on his. He knows you edit in the Arts & Media section, and loves how you make it a point to include video games and modern graphics when it’s deemed appropriate. “She did a piece on the evolution of RPG and I thought her commentary was really spot-on.”

He brings breakfast over to the table, while Jisoo places two slices of toast on his plate, one buttered and one with strawberry preserves. Breakfast is a quiet, but peaceful affair. Jungkook takes note of how Jisoo takes extra long to complete her meal, her fork creating ribbons in her little blob of magenta jam. He allows himself to complete his first hashbrown and a slice of toast before asking the difficult question.

“Are you and y/n okay?” and he also takes note when Jisoo’s ministrations on her jelly stop, as she looks up at him with her big brown eyes.

“We’re fine,” she insists, “just normal roommate issues, I promise.”

“Maybe I should text y/n,” Jungkook says, pulling out his phone. “Lemme help you fix this, wouldn’t want you and her in a bad place when you’re about to move out.”

“Baby, why are you so concerned about y/n?” Jisoo croons while his thumb hovers over your contact, his screen showing a two-year old selfie you two took during a study session early on in your friendship. He can’t remember the last time you two took a picture together out of spite, one without Jisoo. Jisoo’s hand pulls him away from his phone, rubbing small circles between his palm.

He wants to ask, why aren’t you? But he sees the terseness in Jisoo’s smile, as her eyes fix between the interlocked fingers. He has a feeling he’s hovering somewhere he isn’t allowed to be in. Maybe it really is roommate stuff and it’s none of his business, but he feels a little insulted being left out because you and Jungkook are just as much best friends as you were in college.

Or are you?

This question plagues him throughout the day, and when Jungkook packs enough boxes for the weekend and says he needs to go home, Jisoo for once doesn’t argue. Normally Jisoo would cling to him like a koala, murmur simultaneously adorable and dirty things in his ear and lead him to her bedroom to coop up for hours on end. But Jisoo says she’s tired and needs some alone time, which is also fine.

He doesn’t feel like going home, and instead heads straight to the gym. A couple pumps wouldn’t hurt, and it would clear his head. It’s nearly five in the evening when his body is thrumming with the afterglow of his post-workout, and he decides to take a little cool down in the mall and treat himself to a smoothie.

It must be kismet when he sees you coming out of the bookstore, looking a little winded but no less professional in your beige blazer set and rose gold iPad. Whenever he hung around your apartment with Jisoo and you’d come home from work, he’d make it a point to acknowledge your plethora of multicolored skirt-suits. He never needs to be professional in his place of work, and admires how much effort you put in.

“Hey!” he jogs up to you, and he catches the way your shoulders jump at his voice. “We missed you today.”

Your smile curls into something dry, and you twist your spine like rusty hinges to face him. In turn, his smile dims a little, wondering if he’s doing something wrong. Maybe you’re tired? He catches the line of sweat that glistens your baby hairs, and how your hair is done up but has fallen a few centimeters with some pieces falling out.

“Jungkook,” you exhale, “lifting boxes wasn’t enough of a workout?”

“You know me,” he replies stiffly, hiking his backpack higher upon his shoulder. Why does this conversation feel so awkward? “So, finishing up work? Sucks you have to work on a Sunday.”

“Ah, it wasn’t so bad,” you face relaxes a little as you explain your work, “it was children’s day at the bookstore and they were watching Disney movies. I’m writing a piece on how I believe Ratatouille is Pixar’s magnum opus. Interviewed some kids, I wanted an expert opinion.”

“Ratatouille is the superior film,” he declares with a firm nod, “after all, anyone can cook.” He revels in the small smile he manages to retrieve from you, immediately understanding the inside joke. If he came out of the gym five minutes earlier, he probably would’ve been able to catch you in the bookstore. What a shame, he would’ve loved to see you play around with the kids.

At the mention of food, the mall manages to silence itself enough for him to catch the grumbling coming from your stomach. He laughs when your cheeks heat.

“I was on my way to get some smoothies,” he jabs a thumb in the direction of the food court, “wanna catch up and get a bite?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I have a lot of work to edit,” disappointment pangs in his chest at your easy rejection, but he ignores it, “I kinda wanna save some money too, still not sure if I’m staying in the apartment after Jisoo moves.”

He doesn’t know what compels him to take your shoulders and wheel you in the direction of the food court, much to your protest and whines. “C’mon, explain to me why Ratatouille is the magnum opus—I need to defend why The Incredibles is superior. I’ll treat you to dinner.”

“What? I can pay for my own food—”

“And I can’t treat my best friend to a nice meal once in a while?”

That has you stopping in your tracks, and Jungkook nearly barrels his chest into your head if not for the grippy soles of his Adidas Ultraboosts. He can’t see your face, but his hands note how your muscles cord tightly between the cotton of your blazer.

He doesn’t understand why you’re so tense. Was it because he called you his best friend? Well, you are? At one point he felt that way, early on in college. The position just stuck with you. And when Jisoo told him you weren’t interested, he was perfectly fine with the platonic relationship. It was nice to have someone to talk media and video games to, someone not as chaotic as Jimin and someone not as deterred as Yoongi.

Although, maybe as of late he hasn’t been so much of a friend. It’s no one’s fault, he’s been caught up with work and Jisoo’s move, he hasn’t said so much as a “hey how are you” when you’re around. He can’t blame you.

Suddenly his mind blanks, the mall fading away as he focuses on how small you look as your eyes dart between the parking lot and the food court. Jisoo and Jungkook have been so caught up on each other lately, that he fears you’re starting to separate yourself.

“Um, this place is good,” you tug him by the elbow and lead him to a fast food joint.

When he picks up both your orders and comes over to your saved table, you’re talking animatedly on the phone. You’re laughing, looking at Jungkook as if he’s the one intruding and you’re muttering a hushed “sorry” as you continue the tail end of the conversation.

“Yes, Joonie. Go with section two, I know my shit. I’m your Work Wife for a reason, Umji in PR could never compare,” you’re giggling like you’re five years younger, and Jungkook feels stuck in a timelapse.

He watches you go, throwing around names and terms that he’s so lost on but so desperate to understand. He knows nothing about your life other than the one that’s tied with Jisoo, which is a damn shame. Since when did he inevitably downgrade you from “best friend” to “his girlfriend’s roommate?”

“I’m sorry,” you turn your phone over and push it to the side, giving Jungkook a smile as well, albeit weaker, “let’s dig in!”

To his relief the dinner goes as good as it should be. You have your tray practically overflowing at the seams, all on Jungkook’s dime. It has his heart swelling with pride, he hasn’t seen you eat in a long time. There’s fries spilling out from the corners, and two sandwiches because you couldn’t decide between a chicken sandwich and a burger.

Food gets you amicable, and he doesn’t mind when he does most of the talking. You’re engrossed in his talk, lettuce hanging out of your mouth as you’re rapt with attention as he recalls a story that happened at work recently with Mingyu. You ask questions in all the right places and he sucks up all your attention like a happy pill, and it feels nice to be able to lead a conversation for once.

“Jeez, I’m getting the burger sweats,” you giggle to yourself, and his smile brightens at your positive change in attitude. Food always helps.

When you remove your thick high-collar blazer, that’s when he sees it.

“Seeing someone?” he asks, eyes flickering curiously towards the violet bruises that bloom across your neck.

“What–oh,” you have the audacity to look embarrassed, hands clutching your neck like a shield, “no, just a hookup.”

A messy hookup, too. Unless you had a thing for showing off marks, which doesn’t seem to be the case. “Didn’t peg you for someone who hooks up,” he says more to himself than you, but you catch him on his impulse jab.

Your eyes narrow and your defenses go up, “I’m trying to get over someone,” you snip back, busying your hands by crushing up your greasy sandwich wrappers.

“Am I allowed to state my opinion?”

“Since you asked so politely, no.”

He sighs, “I just don’t think that’s the best way to get over someone,” heck, Jungkook doesn’t even know who exactly you’re trying to get over. He just knows that you’re far too smart and independent to let yourself resort to such matters.

“It isn’t, but it’s really the best option as of now,” you reply curtly.

And his gaze saddens as he sees you fold your blazer over your arm, indicating that your time is up. Jungkook is aware the comment he made is out of line, and it weakens him knowing that you don’t even want to pick a fight with him. He can’t even find it in himself to apologize properly.

He doesn’t know if he’s more sad that you’re pining over someone unattainable or upset at himself for not knowing you’ve been harboring feelings for someone. If you really think hooking up is your only option, you must be really hung about whoever you’re into as of late.

“If it’s worth anything,” Jungkook adds, wanting to leave on a high note, “fuck that guy. He clearly doesn’t deserve you.”

A small, secret smile plays on your lips, “Yeah, I like to believe that.”

“I’m anxious,” Namjoon’s mantra makes the whole energy in the room wobbly, paired with the fact the two of you are squished between cardboard boxes as Jungkook aimlessly moves things around like a Tetris screen.

The only time you feel remotely comfortable basking in your home is when Jisoo is gone. Oh-so conveniently is the Big Hit building undergoing maintenance today, so you and Namjoon have decided to work from home in your apartment. Although you thought by now that Jisoo’s boxes would be long gone and tucked away in Jungkook’s place, instead you’re living in an episode of Ed, Edd and Eddy and the cardboard is practically wall-to-wall. You also thought by now that Jungkook would have no reason to show up unannounced anymore, but apparently that’s not the case.

“I have, anxiety,” Namjoon adjusts his glasses for the nth time this afternoon, brain not fixed enough to focus on the screen of his chrome MacBook, “anxiety, anxiety. I can’t right now. I need my weighted blanket and a pillow.”

“Namjoon, I can get both of those for you if we just send in this last spread,” you coo gently, as if placating a baby. You make brief eye contact with Jungkook from the other side of the room, his lips quirking in amusement as he stacks a box of clothes by the kitchen.

“Do you feel my palms? My palms, they’re like a fucking fountain you need to feel them—” your Wusband approaches you like a zombie, leaning over you and tripping over his criss-crossed legs before he topples over you.

“Blegh, get off of me you sweat giant!” you cry with a good-natured laugh, although the grip of Namjoon’s palms under your shoulders are damp and slimy, “Joon, I can’t get you your blanket if you’re crushing my boobs.”

Namjoon finally relents, untacking himself to rest his chin on your glass coffee table. “Fine.”

“Look over the last column and I’ll bring your blanket, okay?”

Pushing yourself off the ground, you shuffle your way out of the living room through the maze of boxes and into the hallway. It feels like your apartment is less of an apartment and more of a storage space when you’re trapped in-between two lines of boxes, and Jungkook effectively blocking you from entering your room. He was just in the living room but now he’s come from the linen closet, standing between the entrance of your room.

“Sorry,” he pops his head out from a smaller box, one filled with designer costume jewelry.

“It’s fine,” you chirp, barely making eye contact as you shuffle over the boxes.

Your toe drags over the lid of one of the open boxes in an attempt to move diagonally. You nearly crash your face into the hardwood if not for Jungkook’s arm stretching out to catch you. In seconds he manages to catch all your weight in one hand, pulling you to him with your hip pressed against his. Your breath traps itself in your neck. Your subconscious fears that if you speak now, you’ll babble about how attractive it is that he’s able to catch you as easily as grabbing a light sheet of paper.

“Careful,” his voice rumbles in his throat as he regards you with a wan smile.

Your “thanks” is barely uttered as you slip into your room, heaving your weighted blanket and a pillow in your arms to let Namjoon borrow.

The burgundy quilted fabric is hunched over your shoulder, draped around your body so it’s easier for you to carry on your back. You try to eradicate the memory of Jungkook’s arms, lean and strong as he held you to him moments before.

Ugh, you thought messing around with Vernon would stop your silly pining. It seems that it’ll take more than a couple rounds to satiate your curiosity. For such a kind guy, Jungkook seems like a wolf in sheep’s clothing when it comes to the bedroom.

You can imagine him being so kind in the beginning, coaxing you to wan and bend to his every wish and command. And then when you keen a little too hard at the attention, you bet a switch would flip and he’d grab you—

The blanket flops around your back, and you’re sorely reminded that you’re thirsting over a taken man, yet again.

Jungkook makes it extremely difficult for him to be hateable. It’s by nature that he’s just so damn likeable. Heck, he’s pretty much packed seventy percent of the things Jisoo should be packing right now.

Making sure not to trip again, on your feelings and your blanket, you successfully reach a tired Namjoon. You tuck your koala-shaped pillow under your co-editor’s arms, and drape the heavy blanket over him like a cape. He’s giving you a thumbs up and a toothless smile, the previous meltdown overcome as he focuses on finishing the last of today’s work. He’s slipped on some noise-cancelling earphones, presumably filled with generic coffee-house music or rain playlists.

Wordlessly you go to your nook to prepare some tea. It’s getting late and a warm cup would distract you from the impending deadline. Despite the fact that you and Namjoon are 99% of the way done, his previous freak-out has you on live-wire and you could use a little caffeine.

Placing three mugs on the counter you call, “Jungkook, tea?”

“Yes please,” you stiffen when you feel Jungkook magically appear right behind you, his head peering over your shoulder, “with milk and honey.”

Deciding to give Jungkook the beehive-shaped mug because it’s very on-brand for him, you begin to steep the leaves in your kettle while he spoons the honey.

“So,” his words are slow as the drip of honey, the amber goo taking its time to descend into his mug as it falls from the dipper. “Is that the guy you’re trying to get over?”

Jungkook lifts his brows towards Namjoon, who is softcore jamming to his white noise playlist. It’s cute as to how curious Jungkook is about Namjoon. While you try to keep your work life separate, there really isn’t much backstory to your personal life to warrant that kind of divide.

“Namjoon,” you state aloud, watching Namjoon sing badly to himself, “why, are you gonna beat him up for me?”

“I can take him,” you can practically hear Jungkook’s chest pop out.

With a roll of your eyes, you reach to kill the heat off the tea kettle, “No need. He isn’t the guy I’m trying to get over.”

“Oh, he’s your fuck buddy then?”

“Shit!” being caught off guard, you grab at the handle of your kettle without a pot holder, burning your fingertips. In seconds Jungkook’s larger hand encases your own, pulling you over to the sink to soak your fingers in cool running water.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jungkook is chanting like a sinner at church, searching for any sign of pain in your visage, “I shouldn’t have asked while you’re working with a hot stove.”

You suppress a sigh, relaxing your fingers as Jungkook soothes the burn with his gentle hold, “Shouldn’t have asked in the first place,” you mumble.

“I know,” he replies, “guess I’m just feeling a little left out. We don’t talk like we used to. I guess I’m getting a little too nosy for my own good, aren’t I?”

You don’t understand what’s going on with his incessant babbling as of late, but you chalk it up to work stress and Jisoo’s move. Having no answers to his honest reply, you gently untack your red palm from his grip, assuring him that you’re fine.

Namjoon steps into your kitchenette, being surprisingly careful as he takes your potholder to pour himself a cup of tea. If the tea is oversteeped and bitter he doesn’t say anything, only leans against the counter as he regards you two with slow sips. “You alright?”

“M’fine,” you reply stubbornly, avoiding Jungkook’s worried stare.

Namjoon holds out his hand, “Hand.”

“No—”

“Hand.”

His deep voice coerces you, and you immediately slap the back of your palm onto Namjoon’s. Your partner brushes his golden hands over the tiny blister that’s forming over your fingertips. “Can’t have my Work Wife outta commission.”

“Your Work Wife is fine,” you gripe back.

Your co-worker’s eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s for a brief second, Jungkook regarding him in curiosity as he stares at your connected palms. “I have some aloe in my bag for sunburns,” Namjoon offers helpfully, ignoring the weird glances, “I’ll give it to you in a bit. Also, I’ve overcome my sudden bout of stress and I’m ready to email our progress to Victoria. We’re done for the day.”

“Awesome, thanks Joonie,” you exhale, relaxing against the sink, “wanna go eat somewhere?”

“There’s a niche place in Itaewon if you wanna check it out?” Namjoon offers.

Jungkook interjects, “Jisoo ordered pizza if you guys wanna share with us?”

“Pizza also sounds good—”

“We don’t wanna interrupt your alone time,” you gracefully cut in, stepping in front of Namjoon despite the fact that he’s easily towering over you.

Jungkook snorts, “I’ll have enough alone time with her when she moves in, don’t worry. Besides, I ordered three pies because I wanted to try three different flavor combos. I need two additional judges.”

“Thanks Jungkook but,” you stifle a cry when Namjoon jabs you in the back with his thumb. It’s pressing, digging into the small of your back as if he’s trying to telepathically tell you that you’re being rude, “but… I don’t know if I can eat three slices! Namjoon on the other hand, can probably eat enough to fairly judge.”

“Great,” Jungkook’s smile is blinding, causing your grin to stiffen as he looks for his phone to shoot Jisoo a quick text that they’re having dinner for four.

Once Jungkook’s out of earshot, Namjoon tugs you by the sleeve, “The hell was that?” he hisses in your ear, “you look like you’re about to shit and piss your pants at the same time.”

“I just don’t feel comfortable eating with them,” you cross your arms in defiance. You think back to just a week ago where you and Jisoo reluctantly attempted to eat breakfast together one morning. You provided minimal small talk while Jisoo clinged to her phone, replying to you in non-committal clipped tones.

“Do I want to know?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” you retort, “you got me into this mess, you’re gonna stay with me ‘till the end.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, woman,” Namjoon throws his arms out exasperatedly, oolong tea nearly sloshing onto his hand, “just suck it up or I revoke your bragging rights to that snag you got on our spread next Monday.”

“Not my fault you couldn’t get Kim Taeyeon on the spread,” you smirk.

“Well I didn’t so happen to stalk the Sephora she frequents for the past two weeks—”

“I didn’t stalk her I just so happened to need a new Fenty Gloss Bomb every other day—”

“I’m home, Jungkookie!”

Your face contorts, your playful energy melting to the hardwood as your previous banter with Namjoon evaporates into thin air. Work bags in one hand and three boxes of pizza balancing in the other, Jisoo kicks off her heels somewhere across the door and places the pizza on the dining table.

Jungkook immediately appears by her side, and you look away and Jisoo plants a heavy kiss on his lips. She cracks open one eye as she notices you and Namjoon hanging by the kitchenette, “Oh,” she mumbles at her audience, “you’re here?”

Yes, you bimbo. I’m here in my own apartment.

“I guess you didn’t read my text that they’ll be joining us for dinner,” Jungkook cuts in good-naturedly, “we have way too much pizza anyway. Have a seat, guys.”

Jungkook navigates the kitchen as easily as your own, and you slump in your chair while Namjoon exchanges pleasantries with Jisoo. She looks impeccable, hair in a tight chignon and a tight navy dress as she converses with your co-editor.

“I’m starving,” Jungkook announces, making sure to place a slice on Jisoo’s plate. He shuffles through the other boxes, making brief eye contact with you when he decides to put a slice on yours as well, “you like these toppings, right?”

You regard the greasy, hearty piece of cheese and bread with a curt nod. You feel Jisoo’s eyes laser on your skin, “Yeah, thanks Kook.”

Namjoon, Jisoo and Jungkook mostly stir up the conversation, you opting to eat as slow as possible to avoid any conversation. It’s easy to blend back and let them take over, as Jisoo loves to talk about her fashion firm and Namjoon is a great listener.

Jungkook and Namjoon make it a point to direct the conversation to you from time to time, and you let the ball leave your court as soon as it lands. You prefer to keep your responses short and simple, especially when Jisoo is so eager to talk about the new silk drapes she’s installing for Jungkook’s windows.

Your phone buzzes in your lap, and you discreetly look under the table to read the incoming text message.

vernie bernie: would u like to do the devil’s dance tonight

vernie bernie: or a tickle to my pickle?

vernie bernie: beatin ya bean?

You: ohmyGOD

vernie bernie: or y’know, u could just come ovr and chill. Hobi made some bomb tres leches

You: call. Ill come after dinner

“Are you okay, y/n?” your head bounces up to meet Jungkook’s gaze, “you’ve barely eaten and you haven’t talked much.”

“Oh you know, she’s just stressed about the upcoming spread,” Namjoon steps in for you, and you send him a discrete, but grateful smile. He’s always impeccable at reading the room, “she’s just nervous about her interview with Kim Taeyeon, but I think you did her interview justice.”

“No way, the singer Kim Taeyeon?” Jungkook gushes, regarding you with stars in his eyes, “your interviews are always so great, y/n. You ask really good questions. Like that one spread about Lee Yonghwa’s art gallery? Really cool.”

You notice the way Jisoo presses her lips together, a thin line as if she’s trying to seal away words that she’ll regret saying. She’s jealous, and you can’t help the blush of pride that fills your veins as you raise a secret brow at her.

“Right, you got nothing to worry about,” Namjoon squeezes your shoulder encouragingly, as if you’d get his double-meaning.

“Thanks,” you reply, pushing your plate away and standing up, “I’m actually gonna go head to Vernon’s for a bit, though. He wants to double check his work before we email Victoria.”

It’s a bald-faced lie, Namjoon sent the files to Victoria right before dinner, but he isn’t going to argue.

“Okay,” Namjoon thanks Jungkook and Jisoo for the meal, stacking his plate atop yours, “I’ll walk out with you.”

“It’s only been twenty minutes, though,” you see the slight panic in Jungkook’s gaze as he watches you quickly clean up for you and Namjoon. You can’t quite pin why he’s so concerned, after all he has been acting strange as of late.

“Yeah, I’m full,” you reply curtly, licking your lips and avoiding his gaze. You already know what he wants to say, that he’s been in your apartment all day and all he’s seen you eat is stale chips and tea, “but we can do this again.” But hopefully not.

“If you’re coming home late again,” it’s the first time Jisoo has spoken to you directly. You tilt your head to her slowly, watching the plastic smile carefully carved onto her expression. You see the contrived care and concern between her brows, “please try to be quieter next time, the last time you came home late you woke Jungkookie up.”

Snapping your gaze to Jungkook you plaster on a thick smile, “Sorry Jungkook—”

“What? No, it’s fine!” he furrows his brows in confusion, finally able to detect the strange tension between the two housemates, “I barely heard you—”

“Maybe I’ll just stay the night at Vernon’s,” your eyes trail over to the pajama set you immediately switched into when you got home today, “wouldn’t want to disturb you two.”

“Good,” Jisoo’s tone is saccharine and clipped as she tacks on a, “have fun.”

It’s laudable, how much Jisoo wants to make a fool out of you but you won’t have it. You revel in the perplexed expression as Jungkook’s gaze darts back and forth between the two of you, wanting to butt in but unsure of how to approach it. Not giving him the time to, you bid the couple a goodnight and make a fast getaway. Heck, you don’t even take your work stuff with you.

Once you’re out the door, Namjoon wordlessly gives you a hug. You sigh gratefully into his embrace.

The next time Jungkook sees you, he reads the room before anything. You and Jisoo’s apartment is scarily empty, almost clinical. He’s tried texting you a few times after his failed-not-failed attempt at catching up at the mall and his awkward conversation concerning Namjoon, but you always reply back with vague replies and an unpromised promise of meeting up sometime soon.

It dulls him to think that you’ve given up on him as a friend. But can you blame him? He needs to keep an appropriate distance for Jisoo, after all, she doesn’t like it when he gets too close to other women unless it’s strictly professional. Usually Jisoo’s jealousy inevitably works itself out and Jungkook doesn’t pose any problems because he has very few girl friends, but for some reason your friendship with him specifically gets Jisoo stiff in the face. Is it because you and Jisoo are so close? Possibly.

But it doesn’t mean you can’t join the same Valorant server with him at 2AM and accidentally bomb each other, or argue over the magnum opus of each film company. Is that not enough?

Jisoo’s working overtime, and Jungkook suggested last night that he move the boxes to the front of the door for easy pick-up when the moving truck arrives. Jisoo promises to buy Thai food in return, and with a kiss emoji she leaves him to audit fabric budgets.

As he glides down to Jisoo’s room he notes that the pictures along the wall have disappeared, and there’s double the amount of boxes in the hallway. It seems that you’re moving out too. To where, he doesn’t know but he hopes it isn’t too far.

He chides Jisoo remotely when he sees that her room is completely intact, and he makes moves to pack up her things.

That’s when he finds his letter. Not a love letter to Jisoo, but a love letter to you. Deep in the recesses of Jisoo’s junk drawer, is a faded lavender envelope with a pressed cream colored baby’s breath taped up in plastic. The glue is yellow and old, clearly served its purpose due to the fact that the letter is already opened and the contents rumpled.

Hey Pretty Girl–

He immediately stuffs the letter back in its holder, stricken at his messy handwriting from two years ago. It feels like he found a time capsule, another version of Jungkook confessing to you. He used to call you Pretty Girl, not enough for you to catch on to his feelings, but enough for you to understand that he did find you attractive. It was early on in your friendship.

When you first asked him to be study partners for some silly class that had nothing to do with each other’s majors, he gaped like a guppy and pointed to himself. That day he went to class in last night’s clothes and a nest of fluffy strands. “Me?” he felt like absolute trash, and you were probably desperate due to the fact you two were the only seniors in this class, “but you’re a pretty girl… and I’m pretty dumb when it comes to this subject.”

But instead you scoffed and pulled him from his slumped figure, dragging him to the library, with a wink and a “you’re pretty, too.” Those words have burned in his brain since then, as he wasn’t used to getting such off-handed compliments, especially from intelligent girls that wanted more than one night.

For whatever reason you continued seeing his dumb self, even after the semester ended and together registered for one more class for spring.

Whenever you’d go out for ice cream you wouldn’t hesitate to stuff your face and add for extra Oreos and fries, you’d assure Jungkook you’re not normally this much of a slob.

Jungkook would just smile and offer you a napkin and say, “You’re still a pretty girl.”

He fell for you gracefully. There was no regret, no walk of shame, no cliché late night party where you or him could’ve instigated it into the physical. It was all by feel.

However the two of you took your time with your relationship, languidly enjoying the hushed conversations in the library at 2AM, the late night McFlurry runs, the integration of each other’s friends like it was natural. Ergo the lavender love letter. It was a gentle declaration, one he felt pretty confident in.

So color him stupid when you passed him in class with a happy wave, Jungkook dumbfounded at how well you handled his confession. You weren’t oblivious, you just never read it.

But now he knows the declaration was for whatever reason, lost in transit. “I should’ve known,” he whispers in the air, the letter crumpling in his grip. Composing himself, he pinches his brows.

There’s an electronic buzz and a sharp slam of the front door. Judging by the time, you’re home.

You flop onto your mattress, folding an arm over your head to stop the sun from seeping to your eyes. Vernon’s exhausted you, and you barely got away before he could have any say in it. You need a little space, and some time to think.

Just as you close the door to your bedroom, it swings open.

You gape as Jungkook thrusts himself into your bedroom like a deer with horns, looking pale. You follow his gaze, darkened eyes that linger a little too long on your neck again, and you narrow your eyes at him to avert. He looks a little red in the cheeks despite his pallidness, looking like he just got out of bed with messy wavy locks and his signature sweats. Is Jungkook packing for Jisoo again?

Acutely aware that you smell like sweat and sex, you clutch the blankets closer to your body. “Uh, rude.”

He looks uncharastically frantic, waving a letter in his hand, “Did you ever read this?”

“Read what?” you ask, hands reaching out for the envelope.

“My confession letter,” he blurts, having no shame now that all the gears are running through his head. “I wrote you a letter asking you out, because you said you wanted to collect notes like in Letters to Juliet. But I just found it in Jisoo’s drawer, why would it be there?”

And all the pent up frustration that never seemed to escape under Vernon’s sheets, the feelings that never seem to subside, all bubble back to the surface. Now that Jungkook knows, there’s no hiding.

You’re in shock, hands reaching for the letter despite the burn that seeps through your fingertips. Jungkook’s shoulders slump when you do indeed look like it’s your first time seeing this, as if a missing puzzle piece in your timeline has finally been revealed.

“I, I didn’t think you’d write me a letter,” you take the lavender envelope, clutching the letter by your chest like it’s something precious, “that’s so sweet,” you say to yourself.

It dawns on him, “Wait, you knew about this? I knew something weird was going on.”

“Only recently,” you frown.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” he nearly shouts, causing you to flinch, “no wonder why you were being so weird all this time. How could you let me live the rest of my life knowing this? That my relationship is built on a lie? ”

“I don’t know,” you suddenly feel very small in your mattress as Jungkook rounds up on you, pulling your desk chair closer to your bed, “because you love Jisoo, of course.”

“Well obviously that’s not possible,” and while yes a two-year realtionship ending like this is going to hit him hard tonight, he’s focused on you and the fact that you failed to tell him, “somehow I’d find out. Why wait for me to find out on my own?”

“Because I wanted to protect you!”

“Protect me,” he scoffs, crossing his arms and sneering at you. It causes you to tense up, feeling the telltale signs of tears bubbling to the surface, “you don’t even want to be friends anymore, y/n. I’ve tried to catch up to you so many times, but you keep leaving me hanging. I know I’ve been a pretty bad friend and I get it if you just feel awkward that I liked you, then that’s a shitty reason.”

“Have you ever considered that it’s too late to tell you?” you shoot back, sitting up straight, “yes, I admit I should’ve told you earlier and I’m sorry, but it was a lot for me to process to y’know? Jisoo and I haven’t talked properly in weeks!”

“Oh, so you’ve stopped trying to be friends with Jisoo too, huh? Just like you’re trying to stop being friends with me.”

“No,” you pinch your brows, “she stopped being friends with me! She doesn’t care about me because she has you,” conflict burns in Jungkook’s gaze, and you only serve to fuel the fire, “she’s tried so hard to not involve me in your relationship.”

“Just tell me why you’ve really kept this secret instead of saying you want to protect me like a baby—”

“It’s because I’m in love with you, idiot!”

You blink and back up against the wall of your bedroom, as if you can’t believe that the words came out of your mouth.

It’s quiet again. The sour look evaporates from Jungkook’s face as he watches you suppress your sobs on your mattress. The room seems devoid, sucked out of its color as you’ve cleaned up most of your things, the only thing left being some plain grey sheets and a pillow.

Jungkook’s mind is absolutely reeling, playing back memories from a different point of view.

“When Jisoo told me she sabotaged our relationship so she could date you, I was so upset and didn’t know what to think,” you manage to place the lavender note on your wooden desk, making sure no tears could mar it. “And I thought I could move on and eventually stay friends with the both of you, but the next day Jisoo put all her attention on you and completely ignored me or any attempt to salvage our friendship. She only told me to forgive herself,” you’re hugging yourself, wrapping the blankets around you like a weak embrace, “so I thought if I cut myself out of the picture and forced myself to move on like I should’ve, everything would’ve been okay.”

“So, you would’ve rather kept all this pain to yourself?”

“Yeah,” you give him a teary smile, “because I wanted you to be happy.”

And with an equally sad smile he murmurs, “But I’m not happy.”

Your face falls, and you really look at Jungkook. He’s exhausted as well, slumped in his chair. Has he been trying to grapple along the threads of his relationships, while you’ve been trying to loosen them?

“What a waste of two years,” he slumps in your chair, letting the pieces click into place, “a relationship built on fake love. I was really trying, y’know. I thought I was going crazy.”

The three of you have unknowingly been playing a futile game of Cat’s Cradle, a game that no one wins.

Jungkook looks wistfully out the window, noting the pleasant day that fails to present itself in your tiny room. It feels simultaneously satisfying and bitter when it falls into place, your thoughts finally fitting together for the first time in months. “We could’ve loved each other. For real,” he says, and you silently agree.

You’re still crying, shaking like a leaf in autumn. Jungkook’s arms hover awkwardly over yours, his warmth palpable despite the fact that he hasn’t touched you yet. With a timid smile you allow consent, and you melt like putty in his arms.

“Kookie, ‘m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you murmur into his shoulder, not caring if it hurts when you press your chin into his skin. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

It’s been so long to have him close like this, the friend you’ve always wanted but never needed. Since college you’ve always imagined a life without him doing just fine, but that doesn’t mean you want to live without him, roommate’s boyfriend or not.

“I’m sorry too,” he sighs back, “this sucks right now, but we’ll be alright.”

The two of you sit in your room until it turns dark and the sky muddles into shades of twilight and egg yolk orange. There’s lulls in the conversation, the two of you filling in the gaps and making sense of the mumbo-jumbo that’s been going on in your consciousness up until this point. Your insantities turn sane, and by the time Jisoo’s making her way back inside with the smell of pad thai, Jungkook is ready. With a squeeze to each other and a press of your lips because you don’t know what to say, you tuck yourself in and pretend to fall asleep.

“Messy, messy, messy,” Vernon sing-songs, knocking his heels against the wall.

The both of you are sitting upside-down, butts attached to the wall connecting to his mattress and your feet hanging in the air. Your mint floral organza socks pad against his Pink Floyd poster, while his yellow tube socks are heeling against some old Polaroids from college. There’s no prospect of sex today, not when shit just hit the fan.

Today you and Vernon are just two old friends and very close co-workers.

“Tell me about it,” you bemoan, frowning at the beige wall, “this whole week’s just been a whole mess. It’s like, warm tuna salad.”

“Gross,” Vernon grimaces at the apt comparison, “so what happens now?”

You sit up on your elbows, looking down at Vernon’s peaceful expression, “What do you mean?”

“Like, are you gonna get together with him?”

You snort, flopping back down on his bed. The blankets fluff around you and you inhale the pine scented sheets. “After all that? No.”

“But you still love him?”

It must sound dumb to still love him after all this time. You wouldn’t be surprised if Vernon thought you’re silly to still hold a place in your heart for someone who has fifteen million things on their plate now. After all the physicality and the space Vernon gave you in his home, your feelings haven’t wavered.

Your companion doesn’t bother waiting for your answer, hearing your answer somewhere in the air as he gets up and throws on his denim jacket. Rolling over your stomach you ask, “Where are you going?”

“Some friends down in printing want to meet up for drinks,” Vernon messes up his hair, making the waves part in that little coiff that makes his jawline look sharp. “I heard Yerin really wanted me to come, so.”

You can’t help the little middle school coo that comes from your lips, causing Vernon to giggle and throw a pillow at you. “Yerin’s cute!” you declare, remembering the petite girl in overalls who’s all about pops of yellow and violet, “you're into her?”

“Nah,” Vernon holds up two hats in his hands, gesturing for you to pick one. “Just figured it was a push in the right direction.”

Crawling out of his bed you stumble in your oversized t-shirt, tucking a finger under your chin as you decide between the emerald bucket hat and the red Ralph Lauren baseball cap. You pull out both hats from his hands and set it down on his vanity, opting to smooth out the flyaways and ringing your fingers through his soft curls. “And what direction would my free-flowing friend be going today?” you ask aloud, “you look better with your hair out,” you declare firmly, “makes you look like a fluffy CEO.”

He laughs at your silly comparison, and he gently moves your hand away from his hair when you linger a little too close to him. His gaze is solemn as he regards you with a gentle smile, “Keep your distance, I’m tryna get over someone,” he says simply, and your arm falls limp at your sides.

Your heart thuds in a different direction, your mouth parting but no words coming to the surface. When was the last time you asked about Vernon’s needs, wondered if he was doing alright, making sure you two were on the same page—

“You’re spiraling,” he reads you like a playbook, smoothing down your hair to press a kiss to the crown. Suddenly you feel guilty for not having sparks in your belly, shaming your conscience for not even considering his sacrifices in your self-absorption these past few weeks. “Like I said, I wanted to help you. Stop looking like a kicked puppy, it’s okay to be selfish.”

With transparent tears the two of you pack up and head to your next destination. Hands ghosting between each other you make your way to the exit of Vernon’s apartment, him to meet up with his friends while you have to unpack your new apartment. With a hug you tell each other you’ll see them on Monday, and as easy as that you go your separate ways.

Hey Pretty Girl—

I kinda wanted to tell you this in person but I know how much you liked Mamma Mia and all those other movies that have grand gestures in writing so I thought hey, might as well shoot my shot on paper.

Not gonna tell you all the details, because you deserve to hear it in-person. But mayhaps this letter has something to do with how much I like studying with you, watching movies with you, doing absolutely nothing with you and all of that in-between.

There’s a gift card to our spot attached. Meet me at McDonalds @12 tonight, so I know it’s real 😎

Hopefully yours, Jungkook

P.S. if you haven’t noticed already, I sprayed a little cologne and stole Taehyung’s fancy paper from Muji. That’s how serious I am about you.

“Joon, we live in a bonsai garden. We’re like giants in a forest.”

“Can you—can you stop spitting at them? Let them breathe, dammit.”

“Not my fault they’re so tiny! I literally have to zoom 200% just to get a good look at ‘em.”

The two of you are huddled in what used to be Namjoon’s balcony, now a sunroom for his succulents and bonsais. Your heart feels pink and swollen with affection as you regard Namjoon with interest, absorbing every bit of information you can as he teaches you how to care for his plants. After all, you’re co-parenting now.

Having your Wusband co-sign as your roommate for the next year is probably the best decision you have made this year. Everyday is like a breath of fresh air. With Seokjin gone for the year to tour his restaurant franchises, his room is yours for the taking. The two of you are easy going roommates, filling the apartment with color and vigour whether it be in the form of baking sweets or watching Netflix documentaries.

The only drama you ever have is when you two are having a meltdown over the same work-related issue, as if you two somehow share the same brain cell. It’s significantly less stressful, no need for unnecessary anger when you have someone as mediating as Namjoon.

After today’s plant lesson, you two go back to the living room to finish up your work for the evening. Another perk of living together is that you can go home at normal work times and continue where you left off with the comfort of your couch and eating a whole pizza pie with no shame.

Namjoon’s phone pings with a new email from corporate. “We got the new concept for next month’s spread,” he gestures to you with a grandiose wave of his arm, “drumroll please.”

He pulls up the newsletter from corporate with a flick of his thumb. Your company put out every month’s concept out in an Evite, like every month was a themed party. A stressful, month long work party. In seconds, the page loaded and you’re met with next month’s title bathed in electronic glitter.

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth

The two of you say silent, absorbing the concept like a cookie to milk. It’s a personal spread this month, a real treat for the team to show off their normal non-professional life. A spread that reveals the masters behind the ink and text. Last year’s personal spread was about the staff’s vacation destinations, but this year’s is much more intimate. You can imagine all the ideas that will be thrown around on Monday’s meeting: pinning down shared ideas like Throwback Thursdays, late night munchie runs, drunk stories, and all the crazy college nostalgia that you’ve been trying to avoid as of late.

But now it’s presented to you in a gold chalice, and while you’re sick of the past you think it’s about time to face it. You’re excited to tackle the dark monster you’ve suppressed since Jungkook and Jisoo’s breakup.

“Did I ever tell you I was president of my university’s Mock Trial?”

“No, I always thought you’d be president of the Comparative Literature Club or whatever. But Mock Trial is equally as nerdy.”

“I’ll have you know Mock Trial got me tons of action,” he winked, “made me very convincing.”

“Gross,” you sneer, “so that’s what your spread will be about? How the co-editor of the Arts & Entertainment section managed to bag with his skills from Mock Trial?”

“Nah, I went on a penniless journey with Jin during spring break. Six days around Malta.”

“That does sound so you,” you sigh, fingers slipping between the cracked screen as you mull over the overly happy Evite, “sounds like a cool story.”

“I know that look,” Namjoon quips, snatching his phone under his nose, “don’t overthink your spread just yet, it’s still the weekend. Now to more important things, what do you want from Taco Bell?”

And because you can’t refuse the combined efforts of nachos and Namjoon’s dimples, you relent for the night and tack the unmade idea to the next workday.

Unfortunately the next workday is just as disheartening. Today’s work meeting is the antithesis of icing on the cake. While your college life isn’t anything remarkable, you didn’t think it was a painfully dull time. With every passing moment and every excited co-worker throwing memories back and forth like ping pong balls, the more you felt inferior by competing with their amazing memories.

“Who can even afford Aruba at twenty-one,” you mutter under your breath, stalking back to your cubicle.

Filling up a whole spread is daunting to you, the thought of Victoria popping her head in your cubicle to ask what you’ve got for the day is practically eating you from the inside out. Maybe your college life was in actuality, super boring? You have no crazy drug trips to tell, any vacations that gave you a life-changing perspective, or an epic love story.

“What’cha got there, partner?”

The third musketeer of your editing team’s caramel eyes peer into your cubicle, causing you to jump in your chair. Vernon wheels around, chair and all to push you into your already cramped space. His gold button up gleams in the sunlight, effectively blinding you.

“If by something you mean nothing, then yeah I got nothing,” you frown, spinning around your chair. “What are you writing about?”

A fond smile melts onto your friend’s face, and you can’t help returning a smile that mirrors his own. You two have fallen back into a good place, as far as you know. He’s still easy, simple, sweet Vernon. When you dropped some boxes off in coloring, you heard that Vernon and Yerin have recently started seeing each other.

“Thought of the idea as soon as the Evite came out. It’s more of a photo spread, but I’m gonna write about my study abroad in NYU,” Vernon ticks a pencil on his forehead, “a self-identity piece talking about how I felt like, not-white around my family n’stuff. And then felt not-Asian at the same time, s’complicated but I think I can make it work.”

“Deep,” you pat his shoulder caringly, knowing that Big Hit is a good outlet for these kinds of subjects, “alright City Slicker, since you’re so full of ideas then tell me what to write about.”

Vernon sits up straight, regarding you with narrowed eyes, “Aren’t you gonna write about your little love triangle with Jisoo and Jungkook?” and it seems like he’s already storyboarded the idea in his head, gesturing to the air as if he’s writing down a timeline, “I can see the headline now: How to Steal a Heart,” he’s grinning, nodding fervently as you cross your arms in distaste.

“Vern, are you suggesting that I exploit Jisoo and Jungkook’s personal lives?” while the journalism business didn’t pride itself on sincerity, it did feel wrong to drag in your personal life to that extent.

“Babe, you don’t understand. You have the perfect slice of life story. Everyone’s writing about expensive vacations and that one time they got cross-faded and ended up in Busan,” he squeezes your hand, “but your story, it’s relatable. It’s romantic. It’s angsty. It has closure. No one’s gonna be able to relate to an impulse spending on daddy’s money to Aruba. But first loves? Unrequited romance and all that ish? Everyone can speak to that. And you’re a beautiful writer, they’ll eat up that story like honey.”

“I don’t know, it still doesn’t feel right.”

“Change up the names, twist the story,” he offers easily, knowing you’d put up a fight, “besides, it’s not like you’re planning on talking to Jisoo or Jungkook ever again,” you open your mouth to retort, but Vernon’s phone beeps to the Star Wars theme song and he’s flying out of his chair. “Shoot, gotta go help Joon upstairs. Just think about it, okay? Good luck!” and he’s kicking his chair out with a brown loafer, leaving you with breathing room in your cubicle.

Five seconds later Vernon is jogging back, pointing a finger at you, “And if you do choose to write it, you have to add that Jisoo copped your McDonalds gift card. Like, who does that shit? Couldn’t she have just given it to you and say it was from her and not Jungkook? Seriously fucked up.”

For the next ten or so minutes you mull. Out of all the memorable college events you’ve participated in, the largest one by far is your (now defunct and debatable) friendship with Jisoo, and your (un)requited love for Jungkook. Reluctantly, you must admit Vernon has a sharp idea, busting in like a hero and offering you the most writable piece on a silver platter.

It doesn’t feel morally right just to start writing, because ultimately you can’t feel comfortable until you get the consent of Jungkook. While you don’t want to touch Jisoo with a ten-meter pole, you do want to start talking to Jungkook again now that the waters have calmed.

Your life has moved gracefully up until this point, and you’d like to start being friends with him again. Decision made, you pull out your phone and make an important call.

“Hey Yoongi,” you say nervously. Min Yoongi is Kim Namjoon’s equivalent, Jungkook’s Wusband and former upperclassmen in college.

Said man hums noncommittally on the other line, “Whaddya want, it’s been awhile.”

You stifle a giggle at his apathetic attitude, knowing he’s someone who wastes no time in getting straight to the point. “I just wanna make sure Jungkook’s address is still the same? I know it’s been a couple months, but I need to send him something and I wanna make sure it gets to him ASAP because—”

“Because last time something was sent, your crazy roommate intervened and Jungkook ended up in a two-year half-toxic relationship? Yeah, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“Yoongi,” you say slowly, “where are you?”

“Working in the studio,” he tuts, “Jungkook says hi, by the way.”

Typical, cat’s out of the bag. With a roll of our eyes you reply, “Thanks for outing me, Yoongi. Talk to you later.”

“And y/n? Jungkook says he’s waiting.”

With a stupid smile slapped onto your face, you hang up the phone and pull out your stationary kit from under your desk. You pluck out a vermillion red envelope, a color so bold and begging to be seen, you know it can’t possibly get lost in transit. Feeling a little bit like a high schooler as you pull out a glitter jelly pen, you get to writing.

Hey Pretty Boy...

Jungkook and Jisoo are no longer together, evidently.

Their social media runs in different directions, with Jisoo sporting absolute elegance in her work at her family-owned boutique. Her posts are full of shiny outfits and soulless gazes, betraying any pinch of emotion she may have felt over these past few months. Her profile is wiped of any personal posts, all traces of you and Jungkook evaporated from her page. You must admit that she looks good, like a real fashion mogul, but only at the surface level.

Conversely, Jungkook is thriving. It’s evident. Normally he isn’t the type of guy to post so frequently, his habits being often sporadic and limited to sweaty gym stories. But whenever you scroll, it’s pictures of him smiling. Big bunny teeth broken into a genuine, full-bellied laugh. Cute selfies of him and his co-workers. You notice two familiar co-workers in those posts, Irene and Seulgi, two beautiful women Jisoo always felt intimidated by whenever she ranted to you. You conclude positively that Jungkook doesn’t feel tethered and can hang out with all the friends he wants, female and male alike. Jungkook looks free, and you’re happy for him.

It’s another Instagram-worthy moment tonight at McDonalds, where you and Jungkook proposed to meet each other at 12AM.

This time, the letter makes it to its desired destination. You make sure of that because this time you hand-deliver it, slipping under his apartment door knowing he lives alone and no one would be able to access it except him.

You’re parked in an obscure corner, but you can see that Jungkook is currently having a great time with his co-workers for an after work meal. Yoongi is unbothered on his phone, while Jimin and Seulgi are taking turns throwing fries into each other’s mouth. Jungkook is squished between them, scrunching his nose cutely as he tries not to get in the fray of their fry-war.

Your phone pings, and you laugh at what pops up on the screen.

Yoongi: come inside, u loser.

You: can’t ur friend group makes me nervous stop being so dang cute

You: dw i’ll wait, it’s only 11:50

Instead of replying, Yoongi puts his phone down and resumes eating. In turn you pick a playlist, deciding that “summer time high mix✨✨✨” is a theme you need to subscribe to for the rest of the weekend.

Busying yourself by sending some texts to Namjoon and checking some emails, you relax in your seat as you let your brain turn to sludge for the weekend. You’re tired, eyes glazing over as you watch Yoongi elbow Jungkook harshly, forcing him to look out the foggy window.

Jungkook’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas Eve, but instead of Christmas lights it's your car’s lowlights. The graphic designer pays no mind to his friends as they wish him goodbye and goodluck, throwing on his jacket with a wave.

The night air whizzes by, Jungkook’s floppy black strands bouncing with each step as he bounds to your car. He throws your door open, bringing in the cold air as he regards you as easily as an old friend would.

“Hi,” he chirps, placing his tattooed palms by the air vent, “c’mon, let’s order.”

“You know, you could’ve ordered inside and brought it in here.”

“Yeah but then it would take longer to get to you,” the cheeky grin that Jungkook throws at you is unmistakable, “c’mon, get out the car and let’s switch.”

“Huh?”

“You look tired, you didn’t come back from the office again, did you?”

“I did tonight,” you say, “I just really wanted to get the soft copy of the article done and—”

“Out, out!” Jungkook clicks your seatbelt off and he’s coming out of the passenger side, opening your car and pulling you out by the hand, “c’mon, I’ll drive.”

You shake your head, hiding your smile in your hand as you let Jungkook do what he wants. Normally you’d be insulted that anyone suggests they should drive your car but Jungkook would always drive you around, saying he loved long rides. Above all, if you could trust anyone to drive your car, Jungkook is at the top of the list.

Buckling in, you bite the inside of your cheek as Jungkook easily pulls out of the parking spot one-handed. His jacket is pulled up to his elbows, exposing his veins as he expertly whirls the wheel in the direction of the drive-thru. Since college he’s always looked very attractive driving.

Doesn’t mean you have to act like you’re still in college. You tamp those feelings down, knowing that your article probably has you feeling stuck in time.

“—coming along?”

“Wha?”

“I said, how’s the spread coming along?”

“It’s pretty much done, I think. I’ll send you the hard copy when it’s ready,” you tap your fingers against the dashboard, “but are you sure you’re okay with me writing it? I know I’m using a pseudonym and everything for you two but I still feel weird—”

“It’s fine, I think it’s a good thing,” and you still squirm in your seat when he flashes you a genuine smile, “I mean, it kinda is a funny story and I think it’s good for both of us. Like closure, y’know? Moving on and—hi, can I get two Oreo McFlurrys and a large fry? Thanks!” he pulls out his wallet to scan the total on the e-reader. “I mean, didn’t it feel good writing it?”

“Yeah,” you replied honestly, relaxing in your seat, “like, college was fun and all, but when Jisoo kinda ruined all that… after awhile I didn’t think it was ruined after all, y’know? I still made amazing friends and ended up where I wanted to be. I want to show the readers that shit happens, and that’s okay. And if things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.”

The summer playlist hums in the background as Jungkook pulls up to the pick-up window. He thanks the worker and hands you the tray, and you make quick work to put the fries in the first cup holder for optimal sharing. He doesn’t park at McDonalds, but instead smoothly pulls out of the restaurant into the direction of his apartment. It isn’t a particularly long drive, but you figure it would be easier for Jungkook to go home first if you’re already parked at his complex.

“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook parks in the driveway of his apartment, taking his McFlurry from your hands.

“Mean by what?”

“If things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.”

“Well, we’re here now, right?”

Jungkook pops his spoon in, swallowing vanilla and a silly smile through his coral pink lips, “We’re here now,” he repeats.

The night air is cool and your conversation is warm. You promise Jungkook that you’ll send him the final copy of your spread as soon as it’s done, and you two eagerly deviate away from the past and focus on the present.

You can’t help the eagerness that flows between you, as if you’ve never spent time apart like this and it’s only now that you’re reuniting. It must be absence that makes the heart grow fonder, because you swell with affection and you find Jungkook’s presence sweeter than any kind of ice cream.

Are you dating now? Maybe. You and Jungkook are going on dates, everything without the title. McFlurry runs, marathons of HGTV’s Design on a Dime, having lunch at each other’s respective buildings with the Wusbands. Whether these dates are exclusive or not is unknown, but you figure the question will present yourself one way or another.

You’re in a good place right now, potential relationship or not. After all, your priorities are simultaneously positive and in order: family, work, friends, and any potential romantic trysts are at the very bottom. You could kiss the cover of this month’s issue (and trust, you have kissed your own copy multiple times) if it is not for the fact that this specific issue is for Jungkook.

So, romantic trysts and friends have a tendency to flip-flop on your priority list, but only because it’s Jungkook.

Unsurprisingly, there’s no guilt knowing that you’re dating your former best friend's ex-boyfriend.

After a much deserved early work day, Namjoon and the crew arrange a hearty happy-hour filled with good food and enough relaxation to last the weekend. With your combined successes, your team felt like they made the best issue yet. At the heart of it, The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth became a reckoning of each other’s young life. Despite the love and the growth that occurred from your college years up until this point, you’re glad to close that chapter and move forward.

You did not tell Jungkook when the issue would come out, so you think it’ll be a fun surprise for him when he sees it magically show up at his apartment. Bending down you move to slip the issue under his door, one hand pushing it under while one hand braces against the frame to steady your balance.

Just as the shiny cover glides under the door it swings open, and you fall flat on Jungkook’s feet.

Being the little shit he is, he simply giggles at the blunder, looking at you with excited eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says.

“Creepy as hell, Jeon,” you mutter under your breath, brushing the dirt off your aqua pencil skirt. Looking at him from your spot on the floor and his large height, you grimace. “You look like a middle-aged serial killer looking outside your peephole.”

“Now, we know that’s not true.” he finally offers his hand, easily pulling you up to your feet. You follow him into his kitchen, where he’s cutting up fresh fruit. He throws your issue on the counter, gentle enough so it doesn’t slide off the granite. He gestures to himself with both hands, “me, a dashingly handsome late twenty-something in Nike sweats who can bench-press two of you? Totally not a middle-aged serial killer.”

“It’s in the eyes,” you chastise, “you look crazy.”

“Maybe I’m just crazy excited to see you,” he says with a cheeky grin.

You try your best not to choke on your spit at the cheeseball comment, throwing a blackberry in your mouth. Savoring the burst of tart flavor that fills your mouth, you wait for Jungkook to plate the fruit before meeting him on the couch. He’s holding a prettily arranged plate of berries, bananas, and mango with a huge dollop of whipped cream in the middle. In his other hand is Big Hit’s magazine.

Throwing your blazer on the couch’s arm you don’t hesitate to cuddle up next to him, eagerly waiting for him to read your spread.

The cover gazes back at the two of you like a reflection. The entirety of the staff is posed on the cover, made to look like a class photo. Some of you are holding balloons in your respective school colors, many of you grouping up with whoever happened to go to college together. You and Vernon are wearing matching university sweaters with silly grins on your faces. In the middle of the issue is the editor-in-chief, Victoria Song holding a placard that reads: Class of Youth.

Jungkook spares you a glance from the corner of his eye, your head naturally tucked into his shoulder. With an exaggerated sigh, he fiddles through the glossy pages, “Hmm, which one should I read first?”

“Of course you’ll read mine first,” you pout.

“Ah, Namjoon’s looks really fun. Or Vernon’s? New York looks pretty cool,” he flips to a random page, “wait, Yerin’s spread is a Korean cookbook! I definitely want to make some tuna rice...”

“Jungkook,” you whine, “read mine.”

“I don’t know,” he taps his finger on his lip, “I mean, I pretty much know your spread because I’m already in it. It would be kind of redundant to read it.”

“Kook, you’re being mean,” you glower, rubbing your cheek against his soft sweater. He’s just so damn comfy.

“I’m kidding,” he tugs at your cheek, “where’s the table of contents, first page?”

“I’m on page eighty-three.”

You speed up the process like an impatient child, leaning over to brush the pages to the desired spread. You even dog-earred it, a habit that drives Jungkook crazy as he immediately fiddles to iron out the crease.

“Are you gonna read it to me too, mom?” he teases.

“Okay fine! I’ll be quiet, but don’t take too long.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Eyes fluttering, you let Jungkook take his time to absorb your piece. A roommate by any other (rude) name: the lost letter. A cheesy, gimmicky title that Victoria insisted upon that you had no choice but relent to. The rest of the spread thankfully has a very authentic edge to it, your story laced with photos of you and Jungkook, your internship with Vernon, and most importantly, a scan of the lavender letter that got left in the past.

Jungkook’s not silent through his read-through, either. He laughs at all the right parts, fueling your ego as his smile grows at your favorite lines. While he doesn’t directly engage in conversation, his positive energy is enough for you to make you feel like you’ve done your job right. It’s one thing to write about unknown celebrities and unnamed artists, but for people like Jungkook, the validation is personal.

“It’s beautiful,” Jungkook says when he’s read it thrice through, running his thumb over a picture of you. “Really organic. Really, real.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he chuckles, having run out of adverbs. “It’s funny, too. I liked your little internal monologue. I wish I knew how you felt back then.”

“I wish you did, too.”

You’re quietly munching on a strawberry, looking over a polaroid Jungkook took. It was sometime in the beginning of senior year, where you’ve fallen asleep on his mattress, drool drying on your mouth. Normally you’d be opposed to having such unflattering, grainy pictures amongst your writing, but it encapsulates the youth you’ve tried so hard to chase away.

“How do you feel?” Jungkook says, switching out the magazine for the plate of fruit, placing it on his side.

“Feel great, actually,” you muse, smiling to yourself. By no means are you a hero writing some grand gesture in an entertainment magazine, but you feel like you’ve saved yourself. You’ve savored your youth in four thousand words, cutting out the poison and keeping the moment as sweet as it can be.

“I’m proud of you,” he reaches to ruffle your hair, and you don’t even get mad when it tousles out of your pinned style.

Reveling in the attention, you simply close your eyes and feed yourself a handful of blueberries.

“Love that I make money, but I definitely miss college from time to time,” Jungkook stretches, jostling you out of your comfortable position. “Like I remember Taehyung and I would take turns bringing backpacks to the dining hall so we could stuff fruit in it for later.”

“Yeah, but as much as I loved college I wouldn’t go back,” you nod to yourself, “I’m happy where I am now.”

“What about when we stayed up for midnight breakfast? The dining hall was filled to the brim with food. Remember when I tried to eat a whole stack of pancakes?”

“Jungkook…”

“Or when our classes got cancelled and we went to Lotte World? You ate way too much funnel cake and I had to carry you to the car!”

“Jungkook—”

“And that one time we snuck out to the music hall’s rooftop?” words gush out of Jungkook’s mouth like a waterfall, unable to relent, “that’s when I realized I liked you. I liked you so much, I tried to tell you that night but choked—”

“Jungkook!” and he immediately zips up, frowning. You straighten up, on your knees as you reach over to run your hands through his onyx tresses, moving the styled strands to the back of his pierced ears, “Jungkook,” you repeat softly, “I’ve heard all these stories, I was there for most of them. As much as I love the past… can we talk about something else?” you give him a small, tentative smile to show him you’re not mad, but a little uncomfortable at his reminiscing.

He leans into your touch, pressing your palm against the soft swell of his warm cheek. “Okay,” he agrees, resting one hand on your thigh.

You’re roped in his gaze, and you have to force yourself to breathe when Jungkook moves closer to you. He hooks a leg behind his back, and another across his lap. A cool breeze kisses your inner thighs when your skirt exposes your cotton underwear. You should be embarrassed but instead you’re fixated, unable to understand what he’s trying to accomplish.

“Then I’m gonna talk about the future,” Jungkook traps you between the couch, his thumb running hot circles to where your skirt has hiked up. It exposes a slip of the thigh that Jungkook has seen a million times. He’s seen you walking around your apartment in a large shirt, ridden up to your boyshorts. It’s different now, you feel exposed and tingly, thrumming with excitement. “I like you, obviously anticipated news and old news. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to go on dates with you, re-watch Avatar, grumble when I force you to come to the gym with me,” he bumps noses with you when you scrunch yours, “I wanna be with you. Heck, I’ve even cleared space in my spare room so you’d have closet space for all your fancy designer suits if you ever need it.”

“You cleared space?” you manage to choke out. Visions of a shared apartment roll through your brain. Cooking meals together, having two toothbrushes side by side, and waking up to his face.

“Of course I did. Do you know how financially attractive you are?” he says lightheartedly, “you’re a sexy working woman and it’s crazy to imagine you’d want to settle for me and my little apartment. But I have to try now because if I don’t, it’ll be too late.”

“That’s not true,” you retort, “you’re not someone I’d settle for. I want you, and no one else.”

He chuckles, running a thumb over your cheek. “Then what are we waiting for? Your key’s hiding under the mat.”

“Jungkook…” on the tip of your tongue lays the words you’re going too fast but it doesn’t make its way to the air.

“But do you really think it’s too fast?” he reads your face clearly, “these feelings never went anywhere. They were locked away, sure. And I loved her,” he can’t even say the name, not when you’re warm and flush against him, “but I loved our friendship more.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you breathe, letting the cogs in your brain roll until sparks develop.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he concedes, “I just wanted to let you know. Could’ve done the letter thing all over again and let the past repeat itself. I know Namjoon wouldn’t hide a love letter for two years, but if I left another damn letter he’d definitely make a copy and tease me about it.”

You snort, pressing your forehead to his. You’re practically buried in the couch now, tingly and vibrating with happiness. “And I’m not going to leave you hanging. I do want to say something,” and he looks at you expectantly, licking the leftover berry juice on his lips, nearly making you miss your train of thought, “I like you too,” you say, the other L-word is also applicable, but you feel like that phrase is reserved for another time, “I want to show you off on work vacations, bring you along as my date and show them you’re my muse,” you confess, “I wanna play video games with you ‘till 2AM, and eat ice cream in the comfort of our apartment instead of our cars because we’re too stubborn to admit we don’t wanna go home without each other.”

Jungkook absolutely preens at the affection, sending you a heart melting smile that has your stomach doing backflips.

“Jungkook, I want to fall in love with you again.”

Your squeal of surprise is swallowed by Jungkook’s lips, tasting of mangoes and berries as strong hands cup your backside, easily lifting you onto his lap. You plop under his strong thighs, feeling them flex against yours. The both of you are pouring in this kiss, raining with promises and hopes for a future with each other. His taste is concentrated, and you can feel the devotion practically injected in his embrace.

When he pulls away his lips are cherry-red and shiny, looking up at you through clear coffee eyes. “This isn’t a dream, right?” he looks at you up and down, unable to decipher fact from fiction, “because I distinctly remember two wet dreams that involve you looking like this.”

Looking down, you heat at the disarray you’re in. Hair wild and parted in different wavelengths, tired of the day’s efforts. Your slightly sheer dress-shirt is rumpled, the lace collar opened with two popped buttons revealing your cleavage, and your skirt is stretched so tight that it’s ruched all the way up your thighs. Sprawled across Jungkook’s lap, you’re dangerously close to something long and hard.

Emboldened, you clutch at Jungkook’s collar, pulling him closer.

“Show me what happens in your dream,” you whisper into his ear, barely brushing your clothed core against his crotch, “maybe we can make it come true tonight.”

You can’t see his face, but you feel something dark and sensual overtake him. The grip on your ass tightens, a delicious pain that has you pressing your breasts against him and nipping on his ear, your tongue darting sensually through the cold silver hoops that dart through his skin.

Within seconds, he rips you away from his neck and demands, “Open.”

Dazed, you barely get a centimeter of your mouth open when Jungkook presses something cold and sugary against your lips. Whipped cream. You manage to take a small bite of the tart strawberry that he holds by the viridian stem, rolling the flavor between your mouth as Jungkook paints the leftover whipped cream over your lips. Once he’s satisfied he then creates a white trail that leads to your cleavage.

Better than any dream, his eyes drink you in like the last glass of water in a desert. Your lips are swollen and parted like a baby kitten, covered in the creamy confection. “So pretty,” he exhales, his hot tongue licking from your cleavage to your lips, swallowing the flavor of you and strawberry juice, “such a pretty girl you are, and all mine.”

“Yours,” you submit easily, rolling your hips against his.

At that moment you think you’re meant to fall in love this way. You can’t imagine the shy, fumbly Jungkook and your equally confused self waltzing around a relationship when you barely had your lives together. The two of you still had growing to do. The wait is certainly worth it, because as you feel his arms tighten around you, you’re sure this love will stay strong.

It’s difficult for you to find a rhythm at first, what with Jungkook’s strength and need to be satiated, both of you are sloppy but the friction is nothing less than delicious. Your finger reaches over to swipe at the leftover cream on the plate, and you press your finger to Jungkook’s mouth, and he immediately complies. A dollop of sweet cream leaks out of his lips and your panties dampen further when you feel his tongue lick you clean, imagaining how good it would feel if it was your pussy he was licking.

Your mouth waters at the feeling of his dick lining up against your core, as sticky as the strawberry juice that clings to your bodies.

“C-can I make a confession? I—oh, Jungkook…” your mind is all fuzzed up when he snaps his hips against yours, causing you to shamelessly bounce on his length.

“Yeah?”

“I… I like it when you use all your strength like that,” his hips slow as your words sink in, but you don’t mind as it gives you time to make a long drag along the entirety of his member. “Everytime you pull me up when I trip, or you come back from a workout, I like it when you carry me around like I weigh nothing.”

“Do—do you think about it a lot?” he grunts, and you stifle a moan when he does a slow, hard drag against your wet folds. “Tell the truth.”

“It’s, it’s embarrassing,” you whimper, unable to think straight with the amount of stimuli you’re receiving.

“Please, baby.”

“Yes mm—oh! I do,” you try to get the words out as quickly as you can. He stops moving, and you groan in frustration so you just lay it all out on the table. “I, I love it when you hold me in your strong arms. And, ah, uh w-henever you come back from the gym you just look so sexy fresh from the shower. Sometimes I think about how you’re too damn nice for your own good but I bet you’d be so rough in bed.”

“Really?” and then he’s shoving you onto the couch, air brushing against your bare thighs as your back hits the beige throw pillows. He’s hovering, dark eyes starting from the tip of your toes to your damp lips. “You like it when I manhandle you? Throw you around like a little doll?”

“All that strength, and for what?” you try to keep your snappy remarks in check, but it’s hard when he’s pressing his straining dick against your thigh, weeping and needy.

“You’re not gonna be joking about my strength anytime soon, baby,” emblazoned, he easily throws your leg over his shoulder, pushing your panties to the side to let your wetness leak out and onto his fingers, “are you gonna complain or be a good girl?”

“Yes, I’m ah—” you wince when he inserts a finger, “I’ll be good for you,”

“My good girl,” he revels in the way you melt under his touch, your previous sarcasm quickly dissolving into a puddle. You always had an inkling that Jungkook would be a sneaky fox in bed, all that muscle hidden behind a kind smile and a penchant for tea with milk and honey.

Jungkook slips in another finger, stretching you and preparing you for what’s to come. He’s scissoring you at a sensible pace that has you squirming and wanting more. To prevent you from shimmying off the couch he holds you down with his free hand, and you love the way he practically feeds you to the couch, hands dancing over your neck as he shoves you further into the furniture.

“You look so gorgeous,” he says, causing you to moan and keen at his attention, “you’re such a strong, gorgeous woman. Having you sprawled out like this, ready to do whatever I want to you is so fucking hot.”

“I’m—I’m only weak for you Jungkook,” you say honestly, tears pricking when he dips another finger. The stretch burns deliciously, and your folds eagerly swallow him up until you’re filled to the brim. Your fingers or toys cannot compare to flesh, and you sigh in relief when you see his inked fingers pick up the pace once more.

“You’re damn right,” Jungkook husks, and with a grain of love he murmurs in your ear, “I’m only weak for you, too.”

And that’s when he snaps, thumb rolling against your bud as he slams his other fingers against you, going at a brutal pace. You cry out, not caring whether his neighbors hear as he pulls you back and forth through pleasure and pain.

“T-too much, Kookie,” you mewl, your hand warbling to find his, “I, ah, ‘m gonna cum!”

“That’s the plan,” he only goes faster, stretching your band further and further before your desired high is reached. His hand trails up to force your chin straight, looking up at him, “let go for me, baby. Wanna feel your pussy clench around my fingers.”

In seconds, you gush. It has you in a slight panic, drunk on endorphins as you try to lift your head up but Jungkook’s hand is firmly pressing you on your shoulder as he fingers you efficiently through your high, the wet squelching sounds only increasing with your cries. His lap is drenched in your arousal, along with his chin and lips glistening with your essence.

He finally releases you when you’re practically shaking, his hands sticky and creamy. You moan when he shamelessly licks them within your view, making sure to wrap his tongue around his ink-stained digits.

“I,” your mouth is dry when you feel the dampness that hits your bottom, “I’ve never, I don’t remember ever—”

Your babbles are lost between your throat and Jungkook’s tongue, shoved deep into your mouth. Tasting your arousal has you practically vibrating in your place, as you two rut against each other like hungry bunnies.

“God, you’re amazing,” he says between pecks, kissing away your face of any tears you may have pricked, “Amazing, adorable, absolutely beautifulIadoreyousoso—”

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you press your hips up, wiggling for more attention, “please fuck me, Jungkook.”

You can’t help the witchy, satisfied smile when Jungkook’s eyes darken to a thick coal, “Anything for you,” he murmurs, swinging your legs between his arms as he lifts you like a feather.

On his lap again, you soon accept that the way you two mesh like puzzle pieces is one of your favorite positions as it gives you both equal space to ravish each other.

Just when your hand trails to the waistband of his boxer briefs and you’re rolling your thumb over its collected moisture, the moment is shattered when the doorbell rings. You jump in his arms, unprepared for your moment to be interrupted.

He groans into the crown of your hair, and you soften in his relaxed hold, “I ordered us pizza,” he nearly forgot.

Perking your head up to look at him you regard him innocently, as if you didn’t release a waterfall on his sweats two seconds ago. “You got us pizza?”

“I knew you’d be coming over tonight,” he’s pouting into your neck, regretting ever having called the pizza guy if he knew this would happen, “Victoria posted the publish date on Twitter. I just didn’t think,” he gestures vaguely to the mess on his pants, “this would happen.”

“Damn, and here I thought I was being sneaky,” you chuckle, flicking his ear playfully.

He gives you an uncharacteristically subby whine, shamelessly upset he has to let you go so fast after he’s given you your first of many highs. Before he weakens further under your beauty, he unceremoniously shoves you off. “Sorry, pretty girl,” you melt at the easy way his pet name rolls off his lips, “can you wait in my room for a bit so I can pay the delivery guy? I don’t want them to see you like this.”

“But I want to eat pizza,” you declare stubbornly, standing up to button your blouse and pull down your skirt.

Before you could fasten one button or pull down one centimeter, his hand darts out to snatch your wrist away from your body. It doesn’t hurt much, but it causes your body to heat in more places than one. He’s sexy like this, demanding your attention. “No,” he rumbles definitively, “my room. Now.”

“Why?” you throw your hands in the air, yelping when he slaps your ass. He makes sure to make it sting, cupping you fully.

“Because,” he says firmly, “you don’t get to eat until I eat,” you whimper when his hand reaches to cup your sex, panties wet and cold without his warmth as he pushes you in the direction of his bedroom.

Oh, you can’t wait for both of you to eat tonight.

some time later.

“Ohmygod the view is beautiful!” Krystal, who works in advertisement, squeals. “No filter needed!”

“Alright alright, make room Princess,” Namjoon teases. With a bump to Krystal’s tiny hips Namjoon shoves you two across the pavilion, putting his arm around you once he finds the perfect angle, “Umji, can you get a pic of me and my Work Wife? I want this on the Big Hit Instagram!”

You hold your straw sunhat down from the salty wind, smiling beautifully as Umji takes multiple pictures of you and Namjoon from her Nikon. Another successful year under your notch, ending with a successful work retreat.

“Namjoon, can I take a picture with my actual wife now?”

“We’re not married, Jungkook,” you chastise, patting the chest of Namjoon’s floral printed Hawaiian shirt so he can switch. Instantly, Jungkook slides up next to you like a picture perfect stock model piece, and you wrap your arms around his trim waist, “we’re not even engaged.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he pouts, looking over the pavilion and adjusting the both of you so there’s a good amount of you and the resort in the background. The sun may be scathingly hot, but it looks beautiful perched over the crystal clear waters. “Namjoon, you got it easy,” Jungkook says when he hands him your phone, “every angle is our good angle, so you can’t mess it up.”

Being the honest man he is, Namjoon knows better and doesn’t say anything to that. Instead he shoots down whatever pineapple-flavored concoction is offered to him on a silver platter, and starts shooting.

“Is this swimsuit new?” Jungkook murmurs into your ear between shots, flicking your little red number by the strap connecting the back, “because I didn’t see this in the luggage.”

You smile big, pearly whites as Namjoon demands to pop out your butt and work it, pressing your body closer to Jungkook’s. “Tiny enough so I could hide it in my purse,” you reply proudly, voice low for only each other’s ears, “why, surprised?”

“Definitely not prepared,” his fingers dig deliciously in your bare flesh, “would Victoria fire you if she catches us doing it in the cabana?”

Amused that your boyfriend now shares your combined awe and fear of your boss, you twist his nipple lightly. He yelps, and from Namjoon’s guaff he’s definitely got that on camera. “We didn’t come to Boracay to fuck in the cabana.”

“Then the hotel room?”

Namjoon hands you back your phone when he considers his job done, letting you and Jungkook have some alone time. You wave your phone in his face, trying to get him to focus on the task at hand. You wanted to post some cute pictures of you and your boyfriend, one to impress the family back home and the Big Hit interns back in Seoul who are absolutely pining for your position.

“Jungkook, they have the water ski thing where you can flip in the water mid air! Doesn’t that sound fun? Or we can go scuba diving, have Filipino food, or get massages. LIterally, we’re on Big Hit’s dime, and the first thing you want to do is go back to the room?”

“Yes,” he pouts petulantly, leaning into the hollow of your ear and whispering, “got a chub on.”

Discreetly so, your hands brush against his navy trunks and you note yes, he’s half hard. “No!” you shake your head definitively, pushing him out of your arms. You’re not letting sex get in the way of your hard-earned vacation, you’re on company dime and you intend to milk every peso of it. “Namjoon, take him away!”

You blow him a kiss and follow another group who’s decided to go eat, watching your boyfriend get dragged away by Namjoon’s long arms. Krystal, who’s been mildly watching the whole ordeal in-between taking selfies, looks at you in awe, “You got it good, bosslady,” she says, and you happily link arms with her in the direction of the restaurants.

You and Jungkook definitely have it good. You don’t see him until dinnertime, looking utterly relaxed as he sips on a mango-muddled concoction. He must’ve gotten a couples massage with Namjoon, cute. Splitting up was definitely a good idea, by the time your meal arrives the two of you are practically leaning against each other, telling each other what events you need to do tomorrow and events you think will be fun to do together.

“Joon,” Jungkook is throwing an arm over your Wusband’s shoulder, mildly tipsy. The image is adorable, as Jungkook long ago previously confessed that he felt a little jealous of Namjoon’s work relationship with you before you were dating. Now, it feels like they’re best friends and you’re third-wheeling. “What do you think about having halo-halo tomorrow? It’s like bingsu but with a bunch of other good stuffs. There’s red bean, mango, ube, ice cream…”

Just as Jungkook begins his tirade of dessert ingredients, you pull up your phone to check on your social media. You smile back at your profile, seeing your latest Instagram post at the very top of the feed. Not to flex, but the two of you look pretty smokin’ since you’ve been keeping up with Jungkook’s insistence to join him at the gym. Jungkook and you are leaning against the pristine veranda, overlooking the clear blue water and a cloudless sky. The smiles you two sport are genuine and utterly in love.

You scroll down the comments, most of them filled with sweet messages but one of them has you doing a double take.

@sooyaaa__: 😒😒😒 knew something was goin on behind my back… good riddance

The smell of Jungkook’s detergent overtakes your nostrils, and you turn to him. He’s stopped talking, now immersed in whatever’s going on in your phone.

“The nerve of her,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, disgusted at her latest comment. “As if anyone would believe her.”

“Yeah,” you echo, “I feel bad for her, though. She’s probably lonely.”

“Her loss, she put this upon herself. Not us.”

You pout, “I know, but she was my friend at one point.”

He frowns, putting an arm behind your backrest. It would be easy for him to say yeah, and she was my girlfriend and one-up you, leaving it at that. But now he knows better, and that friendship is a much better value than an ill-fated relationship. “Sorry baby,” it’s not his fault, but he sees your disappointment in putting out hope for an old friend. He gives you a little smooch on your temple, “do you miss her?”

“The old her, yeah,” you sigh, clicking on her profile, “but now? I can do without her negativity.”

“Okay,” he takes your phone from your hand, “have you ever blocked a person before?”

“No.”

“Well, today’s the day,” he says it so coolly, you barely have time to think when he clicks the ‘block’ button on Jisoo’s profile, then clicking off his phone to put in his pocket. “No more phone for today,” he proceeds to take your plate that was recently served, taking the time to cut your large vegetables into smaller portions. “Like you said, we shouldn’t waste your vacation time.”

Your heart swells with butterflies for Jeon Jungkook, who’s meticulously cutting your food and telling you to relax and stop dwelling on the past. He’s right, if Jisoo’s not going to stick around for the future and continue to cause negativity in your life, why not keep the positives in the past while it lasted?

“You know I love you, right?”

He ceases cutting, and looks at you to pop a sweet potato in his mouth. “Love me enough to do it in the cabana?”

He’s still on that? “Jungkook,” you warn, pretending to get up, “forget I said anything. I’m gonna go karaoke with Umji.”

“Kiddingggg,” he whines, pulling you back down with an outstretched hand, “you know I love you too.”

“You’re terrible.”

“Only this way because I’d know you’d totally be into cabana sex if we were vacationing by ourselves.”

“Yes, but you’re still terrible,” you giggle when Jungkook steals a kiss, just as easy as he’s stolen your heart.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #gcn23 #goldenclosetnet #btsghostie #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts fic #bts smut #a big weight is off my shoulders

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tangledinmdzs · 4 years ago

Note

I love you and your writing lot lot lot lot and lot,

Could you make juniors proposing reader infront of elders/parents?

aww thank you so so so so much!

i lob you too, i always see you around! thank you for reading!

and this is so cute, i’m picturing this in canon au!

it would be my pleasure to write for you~

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Lan Sizhui

it is a very homely, cozy dinner

in the quiet ambiance of the Jingshi, Wei Wuxian’s laughter, Lan Wangji’s quiet smile and Sizhui’s gentle hand holding yours under the table

all fit together

you feel grateful that you were so easily accepted into his family

and honestly, you had only dreamed that being friends with Sizhui would be enough for you

but it wasn’t

luckily both you and SIzhui came to know that it would never be enough to be just friends

and you feel so happy, so blessed, that his parents had helped you two to come together despite all the odds

orphaned and growing up sect-less, you were not the ideal candidate for Sizhui, son of Hanguang-Jun & Yiling Patriarch

but if there was anything that his family showed you, it was that love mattered first before pride, before everything

“Wei-qianbei, Hanguang-Jun,” Sizhui’s voice snaps you out of your daydream, makes you realize that dinner has finished,

Sizhui’s eyes turn to meet yours and you smile at him as his dad coos

“y/n,” he says your name like a funny question

and you hum at him, tilting your head

“i love you, a lot, y/n”

you blink, a blush rising to your face as your eyes flicker over to his parents and then back at him,

you nod to him as well, squeezing his hand with yours,

“with my parents as witness, i’d like to give you something,” Sizhui tells you

and you blink rapidly, eyes welling up with tears at the thought, the idea

Sizhui lets go of you hand, moves it up to begin untying his forehead ribbon

you watch as he uncurls your hand,

slowly brings the forehead ribbon down from his head and placing it into your palm

“Sizhui,” you breathe out, because you can hardly believe it

but his parents watchful eyes on the sideline, have never seen a better couple

Lan Jingyi

when you were summoned to the Hanshi you truly wondered if Jingyi had gotten in trouble again

you walk into the the hall, catching sigh of Jingyi kneeled, head bowed in front of Zewu-Jun and Lan Qiren,

and you believe you must be right

you make deep bow when you approach, taking the same kneeled position as you companion on the floor

because really, no matter what it was that Jingyi did, you always knew that he had a sense of justice and righteousness within him

you don’t doubt him, even with his faults

you stand by him

but you are going to give him a smack later on for always wrapping himself up in some kind of trouble-

“Zewu-Jun, Lan Qiren, please let me marry y/n,”

you snap you head up to the side immediately at his words,

but Jingyi doesn’t even look at you,

his eyes are staring at the two present adults, a different kind of defiance in them

you were the sole heir of a small but growing sect, a highly admired cultivator

he was a senior disciple, his only family the teachers and mentors that raised him

your statuses were different, so different

but from the way that Jingyi’s eyes stared, unflinching from Lan Qiren’s cold stare and Zewu-Jun’s surprised eye

you know that

Jingyi won’t be taking no for an answer

“is that not, y/n-guniang’s decision?” Zewu-Jun speaks

you’re a bit surprised when all the eyes are directed upon you,

you meet JIngyi’s eyes, face just as surprised with that answer

“my parents...”

“what do you want, y/n-guniang?” Zewu-Jun asks you, and you realize you have to be honest about what you love, who you love

because you can’t imagine a life without Jingyi,

“i can’t live without, y/n” Jingyi tells you, kneeled before you

and you smile at him, teary eyed

you hope that the adults in the room understand,

how much you are meant for one another

Jin Ling

this was the most formal family dinner that you had ever been to

granted it was the first time Jin Ling’s family and yours were meeting

but still

the air was so tense you could literally feel it on your back

all the eyes that were staring at you,

judging you,

couldn’t everyone just chill a little bit

you hear Jin Ling cough into a closed fist across from you, watch him quietly get up from his seat and go into the middle of the banquet hall at Lotus Pier

his Uncle was kind enough to host

but that just made you all the more worried when Jin Ling stepped up to the highest chair,

whispered into his Uncle’s ear

you stare a little wide eyed when his Uncle’s eyes flicker over to you

and then watch as the whole hall quiets down at his Uncle’s hand

“I have an announcement to make,” Jin Ling speaks up into the quiet of the room,

everyone stares at him, watches his eyes as he scans the room and then meeting yours

“i will be marrying y/n in the coming spring,”

there’s an uproar of noise from the room, hoots, hollers, shouts of surprises, gasps

in between all the talking and everything going on

you only see two things

firstly, a strong hand resting on Jin Ling’s shoulder, one that you realize is from his Uncle

secondly, lastly

you see Jin Ling’s eyes, shining but brave at the same time

he stares straight at you,

marry me, Jin Ling mouthes to you across the din

a tear falls out of your eyes,

you nod

Ouyang Zizhen

you’re happy that Zizhen has come to know your family quite well

because your relationship with him had never been hidden,

never been stopped

always supported

and you fall in love with Zizhen as much as he adores your family

he had felt much the same way

which is why when he is eating with your family on a normal meal

sitting around the table with your siblings screaming and your parents piling food on his plate

a few words here and there get around,

namely,

“jie-jie, when is Zizhen-ge going to live with us?” you little brother asks and Zizhen beside you nearly chokes on his rice

“well, Zizhen has to marry jie-jie first before that happens,” your teenage brother smart mouths before you can begin explaining anything

he’s only 12, you have no idea how he already knows that

“Zizhen-ge, you should get married to jie-jie soon so you can stay here with us and not have to ride your horse back home all the time!” your baby brother persuades Zizhen

and your boyfriend can only laugh, patting the young child on the head as the family breaks into happy but awkward laughs

on one hand you are happy that he doesn’t bring it up again, not in this setting at least

but at the same time, why didn’t he bring it up again, didn’t he want to marry you?

the ebbing thought that perhaps, Zizhen didn’t want to marry you (wasn’t in it for the long run) bothers you the rest of dinner

and it ends up being really late into the night, when you finally get some time alone with one another

that being, when you’re about to see him off

“i’ll come visit you, soon,” Zizhen promises, and you nod, distractedly fixing his robes for the night wind on his ride home,

Zizhen watches you for a moment before he overlaps his hands with yours, stealing all of your attention,

“you little brothers may have heard my conversation with your father a few days ago,” Zizhen says

and you look up at him,

“Zizhen?” “i’ve always wanted to marry you, y/n. it’s been on my mind the moment i met you,” Zizhen confesses to you then

you smile up at him, feeling warmed from his words and the hand that wraps tightly around yours,

“will you be mine forever?”

“of course-”

“JIE! SAY YES!”

and you both whip around to see your brothers (and a few embarrassed, but happy servants) hiding by the awning of the main entrance

“I DID!” you shout back, happily turning back to Zizhen

his smile looks beautiful in the moonlight

#mdzs #mdzs request #mdzs request list #mdzs request me to write #mdzs requests #mdzs scenarios #mdzs reaction request #mdzs imagine request #mdzs canon au #mdzs junior headcanons #mdzs junior quartet #mdzs lan sizhui x reader #mdzs lan jingyi x reader #mdzs jin ling x reader #mdzs ouyang zizhen x reader #ouyang x reader #jingyi x reader #mdzs reader insert #tangledwriting

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indelibleevidence · 3 years ago

Text

Okay, my fanfic might as well be good for something, so here's my take on the cheating through fic lines:

***

Allie:

“Jane had a screwed-up childhood that she barely remembers. She doesn’t remember all the mistakes she made while she was growing up, so she hasn’t learned from them. She was brought up by a woman who pitted her against her brother to compete for affection. She’s emotionally stunted as a result, and of course she’s still learning what unconditional love is. She never had it before she met you."

Allie shrugged and sipped her coffee, while Kurt processed her words. Before he could speak, she began again. “But sure, she needs to step up her game. No one’s denying that, not even Jane. And of course you should hold her accountable for her mistakes. I’ve already given her an earful for not treating you better. And if she screws up again, you bet I’ll be helping you find a divorce lawyer. You don’t deserve to be treated like dirt.”

***

Patterson:

Jane couldn’t help but get teary-eyed again. “You guys can hate me if you want.”

“Opposite, opposite,” Patterson said, putting a hand on her shoulder. Then she hesitated. “Well, not opposite, because I don’t love what you did, and if I ultimately have to pick a side, I’m gonna come down on Weller’s. But I can understand how isolated you felt. Until Roman came up with his little death-faking plan, it must have been hard for you to imagine you’d ever get home. I took a look into finding the bounty holder and I got nowhere. You must have felt pretty hopeless.”

***

Zapata:

“Come on, Jane. Of all the people you could have called in to go with you to save Avery, you picked the guy you cheated with? It’s like you wanted Weller to find out,” Tasha said. “I would have gone with you. So would Reade.”

***

Reade:

“Gotta say, I didn’t imagine her cheating, either. She takes more from you than she gives back, but infidelity is different from that. I’d guess the cheating was because she couldn’t come home. I’ve never seen her make eyes at other guys.”

***

Kurt:

“You take me for granted, Jane. You walked in here tonight thinking it was a foregone conclusion that I’d let you move back in here. You didn’t ask how I felt about it. You didn’t apologise for cheating. You assumed that I love you so blindly that I can’t live without you, that I’ll forgive any transgression you make and that you don’t even have to ask how I feel about it.”

***

Kurt:

“But you can’t compare not telling you about Avery to what you did. What happened in Berlin was an accident. But you? You stood in front of another man, and you made the decision to break your marriage vows. Sure, you took off your ring when you left, but you know me, Jane. You knew I could never accept that it was over without talking to you first.”

***

Jane:

“I’d been relying on no one but myself for almost a year when I met him. It was being part of a team again that drew me to him. Working alone has its advantages, but you don’t have anyone to back you up. The only opinion you have to go on is your own. And I was going a little crazy. I needed a friend. That’s all he was to me for most of that partnership. A friend who, in another life, could have been more.”

***

Jane:

“I know you’re hurting, and I accept that it was my fault, but there is no possibility that I would ever have cheated on you if I’d thought I could go home, Kurt. I’m not making excuses for what I did, but this wasn’t the self-control issue that other couples go through.”

***

Rich:

“Really, Jane? You have the most attractive, considerate, ass-kicking husband anyone could wish for. If he were single, and the least bit interested, I’d snap him up so fast, you’d only see a blur before the orgasmic moaning started.”

#blindspot #blindspot rewatch 2022 #blindspot 3x10 #blindspot 3x11 #blindspot fanfic #disclaimer: patterson siding with kurt over jane is just over the cheating issue #not including the averwho fuckup #long post

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worksby-d · 5 years ago

Text

A Great Mentor: They’ll Come Around

A One Shot

Summary: Being with Andy for the better part of a year now, you decide it’s time to tell your parents.

Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader

Warnings: Age gap relationship, upset parents

Word count: ~1700

a/n: You can find the rest of this series by checking out my masterlist :)

Dividers by @royallyprincesslilly 💖

Just barely opening his eyes, Andy has to squint, eyes too sensitive from sleep for the glow of your phone in the dark room.

“Y/N?” he asks quietly, reaching to put his arm around your waist so he can pull himself closer to you. “What are you still awake for?”

Putting your phone face down on the bed, complete darkness taking its place, you sigh. “Am I a bad daughter?”

“Hey…” You feel him shake his head before pressing a soft kiss to your neck. “What’s going on?”

“I feel guilty, Andy,” you explain. “I told my parents I wasn’t coming home until tomorrow… but I’m here now… with you. God, they literally live like five minutes away from here.” He stays silent, letting you talk about it.

It’s your spring break, but you wanted to see Andy before spending the week with your parents, so you told them you wouldn’t be home until Saturday, saying you wanted to spend your Friday night with some school friends before being gone a week.

“I don’t want to have to lie to them anymore. I want to spend time with you without lying about it, or worrying if they’re going to find out,” you go on. “I think I just have to finally tell them tomorrow.”

“It’s up to you, angel.”

Half of you hoped he’d talk you out of it. Damn him for being so supportive. You roll over to face him, tucking your head under his chin, listening to his heart beat for a moment.

“They’re gonna kill me,” you chuckle nervously.

His chest rumbles as he laughs at you. “They're not gonna kill you,” he assures. “They’re gonna kill me.”

“Oh good,” you exhale, feigning relief. “That makes me feel so much better.”

“Relax,” he urges, continuing to laugh. “They’re not gonna kill anybody, sweetheart,” he tries to assure you, gently rubbing your back. “By the way, I think sleep will make you feel better.”

You roll your eyes, but you know he’s right. There’s no use in worrying about it right now, so you let out one more deep sigh and let his comforting touch lull you to sleep.

In the morning, you wake up to the bed empty. Feeling the space where Andy should be, it’s cold, so you figure he’s been up for a while.

Before you have the chance to check the time, he walks in carrying a plate and a glass of water.

“Well if it isn’t Miss Sleeping Beauty herself,” he teases, putting the food on the table next to the bed. He’s giving you a quick kiss before you can retort. “Good morning,” he greets you more seriously, sitting next to you, leaning to peck your lips one more time. “Or afternoon, I guess.”

Sure enough, the clock tells you it’s 11:34 a.m. when you finally look at it. You just groan, rubbing your hands over your eyes. “Sorry.”

“Hey, you’re on break, you’re allowed to sleep in,” he chuckles. “I brought you some sustenance, though. I’ve seen what you call ‘breakfast’ when you’re at school, and I don’t know how you survive, so thought I’d make something good for you.”

“Excuse you,” you scoff. “I cook fine breakfasts.”

“I wouldn’t consider a bowl of cereal with a cup of sugar on top a cooked breakfast.”

“Ass,” you chuckle. “Well, thanks. I appreciate it.”

He sits in bed with you while you eat, getting some residual work stuff done since he quit early yesterday to be with you all evening.

“So what time do you have to be to your parents’ place?” he inquires, breaking the calm silence.

“Um, just sometime before dinner, I suppose,” you shrug.

He looks up from his laptop and over to you, giving you a sympathetic look. He can sense your nerves, the same ones that were keeping you up last night. “It’s gonna be fine,” he smiles, putting his hand on your knee.

You flash him a weak smile back. “Yeah,” you nod, honestly trying to convince yourself more than him. “Yeah, of course.”

You lounge around with Andy for a few hours before deciding it’s now or never. He gently grabs your hand before you head out the door, pulling you against him tightly for a hug. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

You nod against his chest, savoring the feeling of his embrace. “Thanks,” you mumble and lift your head to kiss him. “I love you.”

You spend dinner with your parents internally debating when you should break the news, but you almost choke when Andy’s name is brought up, your dad saying something about him not talking to them as often as he used to.

Trying to seem indifferent, you just comment, “Huh, weird.” It works though, your parents promptly moving onto other things you’ve missed since you were home last.

Later, you're curled up on the couch, knees to your chest, sipping on a cup of coffee while your parents sit in their respective recliners on the other side of the room, reading the newspaper and scrolling through Facebook.

“So, I want to tell you guys something,” you speak up. Apparently you’re doing it now.

They both look up at you with raised eyebrows. “What did you do now, Y/N?” your mom teases.

“No, it’s nothing bad,” you laugh. “At least, I don't think.”

“I’m kidding sweetie, what is it?”

“Well,” you start, trying your hardest to suppress your smile, reminding yourself you have no idea how they're going to react. “I’m seeing someone.”

You've never been in a serious enough relationship to announce it to them before, so their interest is piqued instantly.

“About time,” your dad teases, and you roll your eyes.

“Someone you met at school?” your mom asks.

Getting closer to the part you're dreading, you stammer a bit. “Uh no, actually we’ve kind of been hanging out since last summer.”

They give each other a look, and you’re confused.

“We figured you were maybe seeing someone,” your mom explains. “You've seemed really happy the last couple months.”

You smile at that, but it doesn't last long when your dad chimes in. “We also figured there was no way you were actually spending that much time with Andy Barber last summer. Kind of thought it may have been a cover up,” he chuckles.

“That… wasn't a cover up,” you shake your head. “I was spending all that time with Andy Barber,” you pause, trying to gauge their thoughts, but they're just looking at you. “Because I’m talking about Andy.”

“You’re…” your mom tries to understand. “What?”

“I’m dating Andy,” you admit slowly, and watch your dad’s eyes widen.

“No you’re not,” he shakes his head. “No-”

“Dad,” you plead quietly, shaking your head.

“He’s my age, Y/N. What the hell are you talking about?”

You flinch as he raises his voice, and look toward your mom, but she's avoiding your gaze.

“What is- Is he your sugar daddy or something?” he continues his interrogation attempt. “Are you guys just screwing around? Dear God, he’s using my daughter for sex-”

“What? No,” you scoff. “What the hell? You guys told me yourselves you’ve noticed how happy I am. I love him.”

“You-” He stands up from his chair, not able to finish his sentence without pacing a few times. “You love him? You’re shitting me. I’m gonna kill that bastard.”

“Dad, stop,” you beg, teary eyed this time. “He's so good to me. He’s supportive. He tells me I’m beautiful-”

“Of course he does!” he cuts you off. “You're half his age!”

“Let me finish!” you yell back at him, even surprising yourself. You let out a deep breath attempting to calm yourself. “He's been there for me when no one else could be…”

“Have we not been there for you, honey?” Your mom finally joins back in. “What is it that we weren't there for?”

Of course you're talking about the pregnancy, but you know you can't tell them about that yet, or ever the way this is going. “I just mean law school stuff… He’s stayed up so many nights, talking to me on the phone, assuring me it's all gonna be okay. He just understands what I’m going through.”

A silence fills the room, neither of your parents knowing what to say next.

“I can't believe this,” your dad utters quietly. “No daughter of mine is ruining her life by being in a relationship with a man old enough to be her father.”

“Dad, wait-” Despite your plea, he's walking out of the room. “I'm not ruining my life,” you affirm, only to your mom now. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I can't stay here. Let me know when dad wants to talk to me again.”

As you gather your stuff, you ignore your mom’s apologies, not wanting her to be the one doing damage control for your dad. You tell her again to let you know when he wants to talk to you himself, and then you leave.

Andy’s expecting you when he hears his front door open. You texted him to let him know you need to stay with him.

“That bad?” he asks carefully when you walk straight to the kitchen and pour yourself a glass of wine.

Leaning against the counter, you close your eyes and sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I wish they would trust me…” You finally look up at him. “My dad’s pissed. Said he's gonna kill you, by the way.”

Andy tips his head back laughing. “I expected as much. I’m sorry, baby.”

“I mean shit,” you continue. “I’m 23. I’m capable of making my own decisions. They’re the ones that raised me to think for myself and be confident with my choices… And now, my dad’s not talking to me because of who I decided to fall in love with.”

“Sweetheart, they love you. They just care about you and want to protect you,” he tries to justify, but you roll your eyes. “I would probably react the same way if my daughter told me she was with someone older.”

“Oh, come on, Andy,” you snap. “Whose side are you on?”

You push yourself off the counter to walk away, but he grabs your wrist. “Hey, hey, stop.” He wraps his arms around you, and some of the tension finally leaves your body as his hands stroke your back. “They'll come around.”

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfic #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans drabble #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you

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daddysfangirls-anime · 4 years ago

Text

I’ll be back

Pairing: Levi x reader

warning: language, beating, sad, angst, attempt sexual assault.

summary: Levi loved someone who was too young to love and decided to break her would be better. He was wrong.

Prompt: People think the lion fell in love with the lamb but it was the other way around. The lamb fell in love with the lion…

Right before he broke her heart; Before he destroyed her; Before he tore her into pieces…

“And so the lion fell in love with the lamb…”

The Lion and The Lamb

Levi Ackerman

Originally posted by aurieackerman

The Lion.

He was cruel but not cruel enough to walk past the please of a girl in need. Sighing in annoyances he followed the young girls scream into an alley. He leaned against a wall for a moment watching a young girl struggle against three men.

She kicked, punched, and clawed as the men laughed and beat her down. She looked about 12 Years old maybe younger. She wore sandals and a white dress that obviously wasn’t white anymore.

The Lamb.

He tensed up when he saw one of the men begin to unbuckle his pants. This was where he drew the line.

“hey” he shouted pushing off the wall and walked towards them “that’s enough, leave her alone”

“Hey pal, mind your own business just keep walking.” One guy steps forward he was about 5′9 with blonde hair he had a tooth gap and smelled heavily of booze, all of them smelled heavily of booze they were all filthy.

He scoffed and looked as the blonde approached and put a hand on his shoulder, a filthy hand, bad idea. As quick as he could he kicked the guy in the back of his leg making him drop to his knees then took his arm and kneeing it snapping it in two. The blonde screeched and fell back.

“Holy shit. He snapped Gavin’s arm. He fucking snapped Gavin’s arm” another guy yelled trembling as he backed away. He seemed to be the youngest of the three and the most scared.

“Get Him” the other guy shouted he was fatter and bald. He was the one with his pants unbuckled he was holding the girl’s head in his hands.

“I’m out of here”

“Charlie. Charlie, Charlie get your ass back here, Charlie”

“Fuck you Riley” the bald guy, Riley, groaned and looked towards the guy about to kick his ass.

“you think you’re tough”

the so-called tough guy pulled out a pocket knife “ I think I’m annoyed and disgusted by you pigs” taking a large step he thrust his knife into Riley’s shoulder forcing him to cry out and step off the girl. Pulling back he slashed his face and Riley fell back.

“I should get you like the pig you are” he turned away from him and to the girl.

He took a knee beside her “are you okay?” she continued to just look forward and sob. Her right eye was swollen shut her face bloody and bruised. She couldn’t feel anything.

“where do you live?” she crooked out her address he then picked her up and took her home.

“what’s your name?” he asked as he bandaged her up

“ (y/n) (L/n)”.

The Lamb.

“Levi Ackerman”.

The Lion.

“where’s the rest of your family?” Levi asked.

“My- my brother is a soldier, scout regime, left last year”

he’s probably died Levi thought “where are your parents?” the room fell silent Levi didn’t think she heard him “where’s your -”

“dead. Everyone died. I’m alone”. Her brother took care of her all of her life. Her mother was a prostitute who abandons her children when it got too hard. Their aunt was generous to pick them up and take care of them the best she could. But two weeks ago she had fallen and never recovered. (y/n) was left to fend for herself, which she was doing poorly at.

Levi finished fixing up her face then cleaned up, he meant to clean up the mess he made but ended up cleaning the whole house. (y/n) watched from her seat on the couch. This man, Levi, was very sweet and kind or at least seemed that way.

“how old are you?” Levi asked swiping the floors

“12″ she answered. Levi was 21.

“This place is dirty”

“I’m sorry”

“it’s fine I’ll teach you. How long have you been alone?” Levi asked as he checked her cabin which were empty

“four days”.

“Alright, I’ll be back” that’s what he said as he left (y/n) though it meant a few minutes or hours, in reality, he meant a few days. When Levi returned he waltzed right in and headed to the kitchen with bags. (y/n) didn’t know this and grabbed a bat she tiptoed into the kitchen seeing the intruder she raised the bat alone her head and swung down the intruder caught it.

“listen hear you ungrateful little brat” immediately she dropped that bat and began to apologize. Levi ignored her and continued to put things away. Her cabin was now stocked with food and cleaning supplies.

“I’ll be back” once again he was gone this time he didn’t return for two weeks. When he came back it was late at night and you were trying to go to bed when she got up and saw Levi in the middle of her living room she broke into tears Levi once again ignore her tears.

“I’ve brought books,” he said placing a stack of books on the kitchen table.

“where did you go?” once again ignored Levi checked her cabin she was still stocked. Looking at her he noticed her clothes were a bit small.

“I’ll be back … with clothes”

“no wait please” (y/n) said but it’s too late and Levi’s out the door.

Once again she was alone. Levi comes and went as he please which hurt (y/n) a lot. Having no friends or family (y/n) was left alone. Ever since that incident with three men, she didn’t risk going outside. The only person she had to connect with is Levi and he never stayed. And it hurt (y/n) every time he left because she never knew when he’d be back but she kept hope in her little breaking heart that he would.

The relationship continued like this for a little under a year until Levi stopped coming for good. Unknowing to (y/n) Levi was forced to join the scout regiment with his two loyal friends, siblings. For a year (y/n) learned to fend and steal for herself and once again she was alone but more alone than before. The underground was not a place for a child alone yet here she is.

A year after leaving Levi returned. (y/n) came back home to find Levi on her couch reading a book that he brought her long ago.

“you’re back” (y/n) said as she got teary-eyed she immediately tried to hug him but he got up before she reached him “ I stocked your cabin“

“where have you been?” she asked sitting on her knees on the couch “The place is really clean. You’ve done well” he ignores her question. She didn’t need to know his business what he did was his problem. She needed to stay in her child-like world and stop asking the question before she got answers she didn’t like. But she was going to have to get an answer she wasn’t going to like

“14, right?”

“excuse me?”

“you’re 14, now, right? 14 years old”

“yeah,” he nods acknowledging her.

“where did you go?” (y/n) asked again wiping tears away Levi didn’t say anything he walked over to the coat rack pulling something from his jacket a letter. He placed it on the kitchen table. It was a letter that contains an answer she didn’t like to a question she never asked.

Levi left standing outside the house he stood there he heard her crying. Now she knew her brother wasn’t coming home. Levi walked away as he knew he formed another crack in her already breaking heart. Levi never came back after that.

A few months later wall Maria fell and (y/n), The Little Lamb, made a choice to follow Levi, The bold Lion. 5 years later they’d be introduced to each other again by Commander Erwin Smith (y/n) (L/n) as a new and top recruit and Levi Ackerman as the Captain of the top scout regime squad.

“Levi I’d like you to meet Cadet (L/n) the top recruit of her class and new recruit ago he found her a child in the street him an early young man. He caught uncertain feelings for her in her young supposedly teenage years and his early adult years. He tried to keep her safe and healthy and away from danger while keeping his distance with his uncertain feelings. And also breaking her heart hoping she’d never feel the same. But she did at a very young age, she did.

The Lamb fell in love with The Lion as he tried not to love her. But in the end, The Lion fell in love with The Lamb which he had broken.

#levi ackerman #levi attack on titan #levi #the lion and the lamb #levi fanfiction #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #fanfiction #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #snk #shingeki no kyoujin #shingeki no kyoujin levi #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader

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tremmettdixon · 3 years ago

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To Build A Home

Quick note- HEY!! it’s been a minute lol sorry about that. anyway i’ve been sad about tremmett since the last episode so decided to write fluff to cancel out the sadness. anyways i am very very sure that they are going to be ok and happy and travis’ realisation is a good one and that he wants to be with emmett for the rest of his life tyvm :) anyways this is short but enjoy! i’ve posted it on ao3 too so you can check it out there if you’d like <3

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Travis and Emmett had been together for a year and a bit. During that time they had highs and lows but at that moment, they were at the best and strongest they’ve been.

They created a playlist to add songs to together. Songs that reminded them of the other, songs that they think the other would like, they would add them and it became their own playlist, one that reflected them and their relationship.

What made it feel even more special to him was that he was playing their playlist in the house that weeks before was just him and Vic’s house but now was him, Vic and Emmett’s house. Travis asked Emmett to move in a few weeks before and he officially moved in a couple of days ago.

It felt like home again, Emmett was Travis’ home and Travis was Emmett’s. It felt like everything was falling into place for him.

Travis was making waffles for the two of them because he knew they were Emmett’s favourite. He never got to do this much since it wasn’t often they got full days off together, with Travis working at the station and Emmett working with Crisis One. Days like these were his favourite days because he got to spend them with the man he loves.

Since he was planning on surprising him with breakfast in bed, Travis prepared everything to bring to Emmett in the bedroom. Little did he know Emmett had just gotten out of bed and was walking into the kitchen yawning. He crept up behind him and slid his arms around his waist, engulfing him in a hug.

“Morning” Emmett mumbled as he placed a light kiss on Travis' cheek. “Emmett! I thought you were still asleep, I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed! Well I guess-“

Travis began turning around to face his boyfriend when he stopped suddenly. A confused expression appeared on Emmett’s face. “Trav, you ok?”

“I’m just- it’s the-its just- you-“ Travis stuttered. In front of him stood a confused Emmett, hair natural and messy, in a pair of sweatpants. What really got Travis was the sweater. It was one of his sweaters, one of his favourite sweaters in fact.

“Travis, what is it? Please tell me, is something wrong?” he grabbed his hands, concern flooding his face. Travis rubbed the back of Emmett’s hands with his thumbs and looked into his eyes.

“You’re wearing one of my sweaters” he smiled softly, taking in the view in front of him. Emmett chuckled lightly, “Is there something wrong with that?”

Travis had started blushing at this point, he never usually got flustered and he never thought this would be one of the times he would.

“No, not at all! I guess it just surprised me a little, you know?” he gazed longingly into Emmett’s eyes. “It’s kinda just sinking in that this is reality, this is my life. I get to live here with you, my soulmate, the light of my life, the man I love more than anything. I get to wake up and fall asleep next to you and make you breakfast and make sure you’re happy and ok and safe. It’s all sorta surreal, and you walking in with my sweater on has just made it all feel real. I’m home. You, Emmett Dixon, are my home. Also the sweater just looks adorable on you. I feel like I am going to melt right here on the spot just seeing how cute you are.”

A slightly teary eyed Emmett pulled him into a hug, laughing. “I can’t believe it either to be honest. I never thought I’d be able to find a love like this and be this happy with someone but you came along and changed all that and I’m just so grateful. You’ve made everything better Travis. I love you. But now that I think about it, I think I might just stay for the sweaters because this one is super comfy and it smells like you”. Emmett teased as Travis shoved him.

“In all seriousness, I just feel so lucky. You are my home, Travis Montgomery. As long as I’m with you, I always will be”.

With that, Travis pulled Emmett back and kissed him, Emmett’s hand moving up to rub Travis’ cheek with his thumb. They both couldn’t believe how lucky they got with each other and that this was their new life together.

“I love you so much, please feel free to take my clothes any time you like”. They both laughed again as Emmett grabbed Travis’ hand and led him away back to their bedroom. “Oh you know I will. Anyways, could we have those waffles now? It smells too good in here right now I can’t go on any longer.”

Travis pecked his boyfriend once again before going to get their breakfast and bringing it back to the bed. There he was, next to the love of his life, feeling the happiest he has ever felt. And Emmett, next to the man who changed his life for the better, who showed him what true love could be. .

This was it. Home.

They were home.

#station 19 #tremmett #travis montgomery #emmett dixon #jay hayden #lachlan buchanan #i miss tremmett #please let them be happy #give them back to me now pls

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anyoneseenadam · 4 years ago

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Home: Chapter Seven

azriel x reader (acotar)

summary: (y/n) is a daughter of Persephone, still recovering from the trauma of her fall into Tartarus and doesn’t have time for a stupid, handsome, annoying, stunning, injured man. But now they’re stuck together in the middle of nowhere and there only chance of getting home is if she can heal him, and fast.

warnings: big spoilers for mark of Athena and house of Hades, also for the acotar series, eventual smut, blood, PTSD, graphic descriptions of violence, injuries and torture, enemies to lovers so az is a bit of a dick to start, swearing,

word count: 3.9k

a/n: I’m entirely writing this to distract myself from the real world but honesty I’m having a great time, I think there will be one more chapter after this one and maybe an epilogue but asides from that, also feel free to message or ask if you want to be tagged :)) anyway enjoy and pls comment and shiz :)

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Azriel had once joked that you were like an actual flower, needing water and sunlight to use your powers. At the time you had laughed but now as you stood in front of the mirror, wiping the tears from under your eyes, and preparing to walk into the world of all things dead, you understood. The dress you wore was one of the few fancy ones you reserved for the dinners you were often dragged to before your fall. It was lavender, with tulle cascading down your legs from the waist, paired with a tight corset top and tulle off-the-shoulder sleeves. As you sat with a ‘humph’ and started applying your makeup, your stepbrother walked in.

“Well you look cheery,” Nico said, sitting on your bed.

“I look like an evil power puff girl,”

“You look like you are a princess, which you are so my dad is going to be pleased.”

“I really don’t care what he thinks,” you snapped, and Nico help up his hands. He was wearing all black as usual, simple dress pants and a loose black shirt tucked in, his belt matched his rings, and his dark hair and even darker eye bags made him look every bit the Underworld prince. “Sorry, I’m not mad at you,” you said turning back around to carry on with your makeup.

“I know, it’s stressful for you,” he moved to sit next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and you applied eyeliner.

“I don’t wanna get sick again, I have things to do. Plus I’ve got to convince your dad to let me ask for this favour. I just feel like it’s all going to go to shit.”

“I get it, you’ll be fine though. Also I’m pretty sure your mum is going to do anything for you if it means you’ll speak to her again, so she’ll be on your side at least. That’s three vs one.” He nudged you as you put down the eyeliner.

“That’s true.” You bit the inside of your lip and Nico, sensing your worry, changed topic.

“Tell me about Azriel,” He said, and you caught his eye in the mirror.

“Huh?”

“Well I gotta make sure that when you become his problem it will be permanent, I don’t want you coming back,” he joked.

“Fuck you,” you laughed shoving his shoulder and he giggled, rolling onto his back.

“I don’t want to do thisssss,” Nico said in a sing-song voice lying flat on the floor.

“Me neither but I’m not going in alone bitch,” you laughed, starting to feel slightly better. It was moments like this that made you regret pushing your friends away, the thought of seeing them was always scary but when you were with your brother again you remembered why you loved them so much. You assessed your outfit in the mirror and sighed.

“What?” Nico asked, sitting back up.

“This would look really nice with a dark red lip,” you said, biting your lip.

“Do you have one?” he asked, and you nodded. He was quiet for a second before reaching out and ruffling through your makeup, finding your favourite red lipstick. “Do you wanna try?”

“Yeah, but if I cry it’ll mess up my eyeliner.” You said with a shaky laugh. He laughed quietly handing you the lipstick and you looked at him in the mirror, taking in a shuddering breath. You were stronger than this and you could handle it. You closed your eyes for a minute, counting your breaths, before opening the lipstick.

Once it was applied you lifted your chin, staring down the girl in the mirror. Nico grabbed your hand softly and you tore your eyes away, standing and pulling on your shoes.

“Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Azriel was in a shit mood. He was 90% sure that you had cast some sort of spell on him when he was with you, something that made him happy and relaxed, because now that you weren’t here he pretty much wanted to throttle everyone.

Amren had been helping him look for a way to get back to you. The first thing they had tried was winnowing, he pictured your face; your smile, the way your hands felt in his, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t reach you. So they had been scanning books since then, reading up on every theory and myth. Nesta had brought him to speak to Gwyn who had told him about the theory that there could be up to at least 20 other worlds. Amren had also made him talk through every detail about this world he could remember, writing diligent notes as Cassian gave him weird looks when he spoke about Bucky Barnes.

“He’s a character, it’s a simple concept.”

“Yeah but how do you get an emotional connection to a character?”

“Shut up both of you.”

The pain in his chest was only growing as well, and he came to the daunting realisation that if he failed this; if he couldn’t get back to you, or get you back to him, he would probably have to deal with it for the rest of his long, long life.

He felt bad for taking his frustrations out on his family who were just worried about him, but he had never felt this way before. All he could think of was the way your eyes cleared when the realisation dawned on you. The way you had gone from sobs to a different, all-consuming kind of pain, just for a second, your eyes clearing as you realised you might never see him again. He hated himself for not being strong enough to put up a fight, he knew he wasn’t a match for a god, but he should’ve tried, he was too shocked at the time, too heartbroken, but now he was terrified that you might think he gave up on you. He had to get back to you, he was afraid what you might do if you were alone again. If you were alone after having the bond dangled in front of you, only to have it ripped away moments later.

It was almost 3am and everyone else in the house had gone to bed, but Azriel didn’t sleep well normally, and he especially wouldn’t while he was apart from you. He looked up from his book when he heard someone clear their throat, his head whipped up an incredulous smile gracing his features when he saw you sitting there.

“Baby,” he started moving forward but you held your hand up, stopping him.

“Oh that’s just too sweet, you kids are giving me so much content,” you dabbed at your eyes, and Azriel frowned.

“(y/n)? what’s going on?”

“Oh I’m not (y/n) sweetie, but that’s just adorable. My name is Aphrodite, Goddess of love and beauty, I often appear as whoever you find most beautiful.” Azriel’s heart dropped, the brief happiness he felt seeing your face gone as the lady spoke.

“Aphrodite? Hermes mentioned you.” He said, tensing as he realised he was dealing with another god. “In fact he said it was your fault this all happened.”

“Oh Hermes, always blaming someone else. You should be thanking me.”

“And why would I do that.” Azriel knew the look on his face was deadly, but something about seeing a god cower under his gaze was feeding his ego.

“Haven’t you worked out why you can’t travel back to her.” She raised her eyebrows at him, her expressions may be on your face, but as he paid more attention she seemed like a completely different person. “I have the power to move through world’s, you do not. I just thought that poor, sweet girl had been through enough that she should get to meet her soulmate. I waited for you after your mission and then just made you forget and let the two of you fall in love naturally, I mean I get teary eyed thinking about it, you’re just too cute!”

Azriel’s shoulders relaxed slightly, “So why are you here? Are you going to bring her to me?”

“Hmm I could, but I’d get in so much trouble, plus she’s very smart and I want to see if her plan works. You people are so very entertaining.” Her face rippled for a second as she turned, and she briefly looked like Mor, then Elain, then back to you. “But you, poor boy,” He chose to ignore the condescending tone, “You were dealt a very bad hand love wise, so maybe if she doesn’t succeed I could pull a few strings, but I do have a holiday planned so it may be a few decades.”

Her laugh made him feel sick and he glared at her, “What did you say about her plan?”

“Oh yes! She’s going down to the underworld to try find a solution,” Aphrodite was moving around the room gracefully as Azriel sat back down, the weight of Aphrodite’s easy words hitting him. She picked up one of the books laying on the desk and made an unimpressed noise, throwing it back down carelessly.

“That’s where the dead go right?” he asked, silently praying he was wrong,

“Yup! Don’t worry though, her mother lives there too,” she said ‘mother’ with a slight snarl, but Azriel ignored her. “You know I get why she likes you, you’re very pretty aren’t you?” She walked over to him, swaying your hips and he had to remind himself it wasn’t you as she sat down in his lap, forcing his hands to stay clenched at his side. She ran your hand along his jaw, tilting her head with a smile as she stroked his face. Her thumb rested on his bottom lip as he glared at her with murderous rage, trying to reel it in as he remembered she was possibly the only one that could help him.

“Well I guess I better go,” She sighed dramatically then pressed a perfectly polished gold coin into his hand, “Flip this if you need me, emergencies and sex only.” She winked at him, before kissing his cheek and standing, waving seductively before vanishing. Azriel sat for a few minutes, reeling from the interaction he just had. Is this the world I’ve entered now? Gods who can do whatever they want? He wondered if that’s why you avoided talking about the Gods, if maybe growing up with this had made you bitter to them. He wanted to ask you and talk to you about it, or anything for that matter but instead he just pocketed the coin and stood, winnowing to his room, and collapsing on his bed.

“Sweetie, you look beautiful,” Your mother cried out as you and Nico arrived, you were leaning heavily on his arm, while surrounded by death, the coldness of a lifeless place seeped into your bones and weakened you, you had learnt as much the first time you visited. You gave your mother a tight-lipped smile and hugged her awkwardly.

“Oh I missed you so much dear,” she stroked your hair, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“You could’ve visited.” It was hard to keep the bitterness out of your voice, after all you had gone through and she hadn’t visited once. A look of shock passed over her face but before she could reply Hades thundered in, his usual outfit, ‘the robes of death and despair’ as you fondly called them, were replaced by a dark suit, his hair slicked back from his face. He came to Persephone’s side and rested a hand around her waist pulling her in slightly, and despite yourself you felt a little jealous of their closeness as your mother looked up at him with doe eyes.

“Nico, my son, how are you?” Hades deep voice silenced the room, the very air seeming to stand still, and Nico flushed red as he was put on the spot. The four of you exchanged pleasantries as you made your way to the ridiculously long table, Hades sat at the head on one side, Persephone on the other, with Nico and you facing each other in the centre. The wood was dark, but the table was covered in all sorts of colourful food and you all helped yourselves while making small talk, only managing to hear your parents due to the eery silence of the room, dead guards not needing to make any noise.

After the first few courses and once you had consumed enough white wine to gain some courage you turned to face your mother.

“Mum, I think I need a favour if that’s okay?” you asked with great caution, extremely aware of the powerful forces surrounding you.

“Well that depends dear. What is it?”

“After the battle and the… fall, I never got my reward remember, I instead asked to be able to come get it when I needed it.”

“Yes of course, I thought that was very smart!” your mother spoke cheerfully but you could feel Hades’ gaze on your back, burning through your skin and bones to the very essence of your soul. “Let me guess, you need it now?”

“If that’s okay, some things have changed recently and I now know what I need,” you smiled at her, “I met a man, well actually he’s a faerie. Aphrodite wanted us to meet because we’re soulmates and after my fall she thought I deserved to see him, but since he’s from another world he had to go back, and we can’t be together.” You wiped away a few stray tears you forced out; this was your game. Your mother didn’t visit you often so she had never seen this side of you, the side that could manipulate even a god into giving you what you wanted. “So I thought, maybe for my reward I could become Fae and be permitted to live with Azriel in his world, and maybe come and visit my friends occasionally?”

“Oh that sounds lovely dear! That’s so alike me, I had to beg my mother and even then she didn’t let me stay here,” your mother rattled on and you smiled at her, but your shoulders were still tense as you knew you hadn’t won yet. You turned to where Hades sat, rubbing his temples.

“I get it. I do. But I really don’t think my brother would allow that, it’s too much.”

“Too much?” you asked, a bitter laugh escaping.

“I understand you went through a lot,”

“Do you?” you couldn’t stop the biting words, “Because the last I checked you both sat and did nothing while I was tortured down there. You could’ve done something, but you didn’t, you made a choice not to, and now I ask for ONE thing, and it’s too much?” Hades’ glare was murderous, but you weren’t going to back down.

“I mean if you really think about it, I’ll be out of your hair if you agree. One less demi-god always seems to be a win for you guys.” Nico said your name in warning, but you slowly stood. “I am not asking for much, I am asking to be allowed to live a life with the man I love and after all I have been through, fighting YOUR battles, I think it’s the least I deserve.”

You held Hades’ gaze for a few more seconds until he spoke. “Are you sure your not a child of Nyx?” he asked, and you grinned, cocking your head to the side.

“Why would that be?”

“You have a pure evil streak in you girl and uncharted power. You better learn to control it, before someone catches on.”

“We won’t have a problem I’m presuming?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said gruffly, going back to his meal and you relaxed, moving to hug your mother goodbye, whispering thanks to her, before linking arms with Nico and leaving.

The next day you awoke to a golden invitation to Olympus, and you smiled, soon. You’d be with him soon.

Olympus looked much nicer since Annabeth had gotten involved. You may have been biased but it seemed to hold a sense of home it never had before, the clinical cleanliness now feeling purer and more loving. The throne room however had remained much the same.

You stood alone in the middle surrounded by the arc of thrones, but you refused to take your eyes of Zeus. You had received a wink from Apollo and a smile from Aphrodite as you walked in but beside that it had been eye contact for at least five minutes. You knew better to speak before you were spoken to but the way they surrounded you and stared down on you was bringing up bad memories and you were really fighting a panic attack.

Seemingly sensing this Apollo cleared his throat, “Perhaps we should start father?” While you were grateful a part of you hated how well the flirtatious god knew you, he was the first to tend to your wounds when you first escaped, healing them enough so you wouldn’t die from blood loss but not enough for anyone to suggest he was picking favourites. His warm hands had provided a sense of comfort you thought you had lost entirely.

Zeus nodded slowly, a letter appearing in his hand, “So these are your terms? Transformation into high Fae, permission to live in a new world with visits back to this one twice a year?” you presumed Hades, or your mother had written the letter, neither of them present currently. You nodded clearly, not entirely trusting your voice.

“I guess it’s only fair, but a full transformation will hurt,”

“I’m sure I can take it.” you lifted your chin, holding your shaking hands tightly in an attempt to conceal them.

Zeus laughed, not taking his eyes of you, “I’m sure you can. Does anyone have any major oppositions?”

Aphrodite raised her hand, “I’d like to add that during her transformation, her womb changes shape so she may birth Illyrian children.” You shot her a grateful look, still not entirely sure why she was suddenly so invested in ensuring your happiness, but you wouldn’t complain.

Hera was the next to speak and you fought the urge to roll your eyes, “Why is she getting special treatment again? What did she do that was so different?”

“She was tortured for days!” Athena exclaimed,

“So?” Ares now.

“She was a child, it was brutal.” Apollo jumped to your aid and soon the chamber was filled with shouting voices as they argued over your fate.

“SILENCE.” Zeus quieted the room instantly and every eye turned to him, but he remained focused on you, “Well then? Answer the question girl, what makes you so special?”

You thought for a second before answering, “I don’t consider it special treatment. After the battles I’ve fought and the pain I’ve endured to help your causes, I’d consider it a form of retirement.” You kept Zeus’ gaze and let a streak of the evil Hades had warned you off show, smiling when his smug smile disappeared. He waved his hand, “Very well then, High Fae with altered womb and permission to live in their world and visit our occasionally, that is all?”

You nodded and he assessed you before holding out his hand, his gaze darkening. You furrowed your eyebrows as your limbs started to tingle before pain took over your entire body.

You had felt pain so many times before, pain that left more than just physical trauma, but this was different. You felt as if your blood had become fire and every bone was breaking as new ones reformed. You didn’t have any sense of time or place, all you could feel was pain. At one point you thought it was over only to open your eyes, feeling impossibly soft sheets beneath you, and see Apollo hovering over you, sweat dripping from his brow as he took some of the pain away, even for just a moment.

When you finally awoke you were on the ground. You stood up quickly, almost knocking yourself over as your movement were much faster than usual. You were outside a glowing city, it didn’t have skyscrapers like New York, but it was so comforting to look at you felt yourself being drawn in. As you crossed the border however, a beautiful man with dark hair appeared, his eyes narrowing.

“Who are you and why are you trying to get in here?” A shot of fear went through you as you felt his magic, it was thick in the air and powerful.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone, I’m just looking for someone,” you explained, swallowing down the lump in your throat. The handsome man’s gaze turned vacant before softening after a moment.

“I apologise, I’m Rhysand. Let me help you find whoever it is, what’s their name?”

“That’s okay, really. His name is Azriel, but I don’t think he’s expecting me.” Rhysand stopped, his head turning towards you, “what is it?” you asked.

“(y/n)?”

“How do you know my name?” you stepped back but he held out his hands,

“No, no I’m Az’s brother, let me take you to him.” he grabbed your arm softly and suddenly you were standing in a warm room facing Azriel. You felt tears fill your eyes as you stared at him, he uttered your name in question and you nodded running into his arms, completely engulfed by his scent, tears of joy running down your face when you suddenly realised something, pulling away.

“Did you say brother?” you turned to Rhysand, feeling all the plants in the air respond to your calls, when Azriel tugged you back to him.

“Not biological don’t worry.” He whispered and Rhysand laughed.

“I like her.”

“Hmm I was two seconds away from castrating you,” His eyes widened slightly and you laughed, turning back to Azriel as he looked over you.

“How- you, you’re Fae?” His eyes were filled with worry again, afraid he was being tricked.

“I never got my reward remember, I knew I would need it in the future,” you smiled at him as he cupped your face and leaned down to kiss you. You pulled apart, Azriel growling when you heard catcalls, turning, and seeing the room had practically filled. A shot of fear went through you as your eyes landed on another man who had red siphons, and Azriel followed your gaze, a hand stroking your face in reassurance.

“So this must be (y/n), welcome to our home, I’m Feyre,” A beautiful woman stepped forward and clasped your hand in hers, which you noted were stained from paint. Everyone else soon made introductions and they urged you to sit as you found out about this makeshift family Azriel was in.

“Oh! That’ll be Nyx, I’ll go,” Feyre said when a baby started crying in the distance,

“Wait what did she say the babies name was?” You asked, holding in a laugh.

“Nyx?” Rhys said,

“Oh, course, cool cool cool,”

“What?” Azriel asked, looking at you strangely.

“I’ve kind of met her,”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, she’s like the evilest deity there is, and she did not like me,” Rhysand stared at you with a look of shock on his face, but before anyone said anything else, Amren was laughing loudly.

“You must tell me all about these Gods girl.”

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tags: @tastedlikedamnation

#acotar #acowar #acofs #acomaf #acofas #Azriel #azriel x reader #percyjackson #Heroes of Olympus

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sakatakutoji · 4 years ago

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MonaRaji #1.1

I tried translating the first episode of monaRaji (monaラジ)! Enjoy, and feel free to tell me if there are any mistakes! This is only around half of it, there’s more to go!

Disclaimer: My Japanese is not very good, and some (lol more like many) parts did require Deepl. I am doing this because I want to contribute to the English speaking fandom as well as using it as practice for my Japanese. I may have also missed or omitted some parts as I was unable to properly hear what she was saying.

Original video can be found here.

MonaRaji #1.1

Time for the radio where you have fun with mona! MonaRaji!

Hello, everyone! May my smile reach your heart, your angel, m-o-n-a. Actually this is the first time I’m hosting a radio show. Although I feel nervous, I will give my all to entertain everyone even if it’s just a little bit! Thank you very much! The staff were clapping for me. I’m really happy that my radio program is popular. I’ve always wanted to try this kind of work. This program will have 8 broadcasts. It’s amazing they even gave me 8 episodes!

There will also be special guests coming for talks so look forward to that! But as to who is coming, that is still a secret! I also don’t know either, but it will be fun! As this is the first episode, I thought I would talk about myself and things people might want to know about me.

First up is the introductory corner! My name is written in all small letters, m-o-n-a, mona! Is it easy to remember? If it’s okay, please remember my name at least! I hope you’ve listened to (watashi idol sengen). I wrote this song’s lyrics based on my feelings when I first became an idol. I was so nervous at my first concert, my head turned blank. I couldn’t sing how I wanted to. It was embarrassing, but there were times I managed to calm down. But after that, because there were many people who helped me, and many fans who cheered me on, I was able to work my hardest up to now. In the end, I really like standing on stage and this song reminds me of that. It is a very important song. I’ve become a little teary eyed.

I like all the parts in the song, but I particularly like the part when we say “kita!!” (来た!!) It feels good to say it with all my might. Everyone too, please do give it a listen! If you’ve already listened to it, listen to it as many times over again!

That brings back a lot of memories. I used to love idols, and would attend their lives, buy merchandise and listen to their CDs. I never dreamt that I would be standing on a stage of my own. I was shocked when the president scouted me and let me debut. That was the day that changed my life forever and made my heart pound. From then on, it was tough… It would be nice to be able to tell that story another time. I have may more things I want to introduce and talk about but what should I talk about I wonder… What do people want to know about me? About my school? My home life? Or my private life? This time, I thought I’d talk about my job as an idol as the theme.

Of all the jobs I've done since I've been debuting, the most memorable has to be the live shows. Even though I’ve performed many times now, the first time is still memorable to me. I mentioned it a bit during my self-introduction too. I was nervous, my legs were shaking, I was thinking “what do I do, what do I do?” and sweating a bunch. I couldn’t even hear the song properly and my tempo was super off. Even now when I see the recording of that concert, I get so embarrassed that I hide inside my futon. But I will never let myself forget the feelings of that day. I pull out that DVD, put on my headphones, make my room dark, and wear a parka or hoodie. I make all those preparations to watch it secretly.

When I was telling this story to the staff earlier, they told me “mona that sounds like you’re about to watch a horror movie” and laughed a lot. But compared to watching a horror movie, I was way more scared at this concert. But I have more confidence in myself now. I think I’ve matured a little since then. I’ll continue to do so too!

And that’s the first part of monaRaji episode #1! The second half may take some time... but if you enjoyed the translation, do reblog!

#monaraji #mona #chico with honeyworks #honeyworks #chico #lipxlip #narumimona #narumisena #fantranslation #monaラジ

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mage-ellie · 5 years ago

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His Wish

This is my first request from AO3! People seemed to like it so I thought I’d post it here too :) I’m open for small requests! Feel free to request headcanons/scenarios/prompts! I’ll write about any of the P5R cast. Akechi is just my favorite boy <3 All I ask is that you don’t request abusive/toxic relationships, yandere, smut of underaged characters (I will age them up though), or pieces that romanticize mental illnesses. I prefer to write fem!reader since i’m a girl and it’s easier for me, but if you say please, i’ll do my best to write GN and male!reader pieces! <3

Warnings: P5R spoilers, lots of fluff

Word count: 2,497

Link to original post: Click me!

Summary: All Goro Akechi had wished for was to be loved, to be needed, by someone, anyone. He never could've imagined that his wish would actually come true.

In less than 24 hours, Goro Akechi was going to be married.

He never could've imagined that he would live long enough to find love, let alone get married. He had also never imagined that he would be marrying one of the infamous Phantom Thieves. Although, he couldn't complain, she was quite the impressive thief, having managed to steal his heart right out from under his nose.

Goro was currently lying alone on the bed in the hotel room he was staying at. Their wedding reception was going to be held at the Yoshiki-en Garden in Nara, Japan. His fiancée had practically begged him to have their wedding there. The garden was at its most beautiful during the spring time. But truth be told, Goro would've married her any where, even in that little hole in the wall, Leblanc.

The soon to be husband couldn't stop replaying everything that lead up to this moment.

How she had practically forced him to live with her during the whole Maruki conundrum. How she confessed her feelings to him in March when he returned. How he told her he loved her for the first time during their date to the cherry blossom festival in Tokyo. How he proposed to her in front of all of their friends 3 years later at that same cherry blossom festival.

He was so nervous for tomorrow, and yet so excited. He actually found someone who wanted to be with him for who he was, not because of his celebrity status. She knew about all of his flaws and his horrific past, but not once did she let him doubt her love for him. She worked so hard to support him while he went to therapy, to help him make amends with Futaba and Haru, to help him come to terms with the fact that he deserved a second chance.

A few years ago, he would've been terrified at the thought of having someone in his life like this, but now, he couldn't imagine his life without her.

The next thing he knew, he was being awakened by the sound of someone slamming their fists against his hotel room door. Akira Kurusu, Ryuji Sakamoto, and Yusuke Kitagawa were currently standing outside of his room, each with a black tux in hand. As well as Morgana, who was sitting on the floor next to Akira's feet, already wearing a cute little handmade formal black vest. They wanted to get ready with Goro, seeing as it was his big day and all.

A little ways down the hall, the group of boys could hear a group of girls squealing about marriage, dresses and romance. It was 8 A.M. and they were already so energetic. The groom and his groomsmen all laughed to themselves, they were excited as well. This was the first marriage in their friend group after all.

Akira, Goro's best man, mentioned that he should try to take as many mental photos as he could, because this day would go by in a blur. Goro believed him, one moment the boys were standing at his door, ready to get the day started, and the next they were all dressed and making their way to the venue.

The normally oh so composed Goro Akechi was sweating bullets. His hands were clammy and his throat was dry. Never in his life had he felt so nervous, so unprepared.

Before he knew it, it was suddenly 3 P.M. and the ceremony was beginning. Only your closest friends and family made up the audience. No media or paparazzi in sight. Goro shifted his weight from one leg to the other, he hadn't seen you all day. His heart raced as music began and you appeared in your gorgeous white wedding gown, Sojiro by your side, walking you down the aisle. He felt a hard lump forming in his throat at the sight of you. You always looked gorgeous to him, but in that moment, he truly believed that you were an angel sent from above.

A soft, teary eyed smile spread across his face as you made your way closer to him. He knew he'd be teased by the others for the rest of his life for crying while you walked down the aisle, but he didn't care. All that mattered, was that you were now standing before him, in a gown he never imagined he'd see you in. A warm, comforting smile made its way to your cheeks from behind your veil as you looked up into his eyes. It was taking all of his self control to not kiss you right then and there.

He could hear the officiant speaking about love and happiness, but he wasn't really listening. Goro was too busy taking as many mental pictures as he could fit into his brain. He only tuned back in when you brought up a small index card filled with writing. It was your vow to him.

"My dearest Goro. Never in a million years had I imagined that I would be spending the rest of my life with you, and to be honest, I'm pretty sure you had thought the same thing." You began, a light giggle coming from your throat. The Phantom Thieves, Sae and Sojiro also laughed, knowing what you meant by that. He had quite the troublesome past with the thieves after all. "Despite our differences in the past, I can't imagine being with anyone else. I vow to you that I'll work tirelessly to show you my love, to always be there for you, and to give you the home and family that you deserve." If he hadn't been so entranced by the way you looked while reading your vows to him, your words would've had him sobbing. "I love you Goro," He froze when your voice cracked, "I'm so happy that you're home." He knew what you meant by that. He remembered how devastated you looked when he told you that he might not have survived during Shido's palace, but he wouldn't dwell on the memory, he was with you now, right?

It was his turn. Shakily, he pulled out a card with his vows on it from his tux pocket. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he began. "Y/N, my love. I truly didn't believe that I would live long enough to find love like this. And you're right, never had I imagined that I would be marrying you of all people." He watched as you lifted a hand to your mouth and laughed, your eyes lit up as you did so, the other thieves snickering along with you. He was glad that you could all laugh about the past like this. It lifted a guilty weight off of his shoulders. "And yet, here I am, unable to picture this day any other way. These past few years, you've shown me a love that I've never known. Today, I vow to you that I'll spend the rest of my days finding ways to bring happiness to you, like you've brought to me. I vow that I'll protect you and cherish you with my entire being." He looked up momentarily, amazed by the fact that a single tear was making its way down your cheek. "I love you Y/N. It's good to be home." He watched as you nearly broke down at his last sentence. You took a moment to close your eyes and take a deep breath.

The officiant started talking about your rings, but once again, Goro was too busy staring at you to listen. The sound of you squealing is what brought him back to reality. He watched as Morgana trotted down the aisle, carefully balancing a pillow on his head and carrying the rings to you both. You had a look of pure delight on your face, apparently, Akira had told you that Morgana wouldn't be able to make it because cats weren't allowed or something, but of course, your kitty friend wouldn't miss this day for the world.

Everyone in the audience cooed at the cat as he sat in front of you both with a smug grin on his face. You both reached down for the rings, your hand lingered for a moment to scratch the black cat on the head.

Goro melted into your touch when you took his hand so you could put the ring on his finger, it was a simple silver band with both of your initials engraved on the inside. Next, Goro delicately took your hand in his and slid the crown shaped wedding ring onto your left ring finger. He was the ace detective prince after all, marrying him made you his queen, right?

The officiant spoke a bit more before saying the words Goro had been waiting to hear all day. "I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride."

Goro gently lifted the veil from your face, but before he could lean in, you had pushed yourself onto the tips of your toes and pressed your lips to his, your arms making their way around his neck. You had been waiting just as long for this moment as he had. He quickly slipped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to him, reveling in the feeling of your lips.

Cheers erupted from the small crowd as you two pulled away. "I love you Goro Akechi." You whispered, only loud enough for him to hear. "I love you too, Y/N Akechi." His response was just as quiet as yours. Saying your first name with his last name did funny things to his heart. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to it, not that he minded. It would be a reminder that someone out there truly did love him.

The rest of the night was a blur for Goro. His most prominent memories of the night were of Sojiro sobbing when he danced with you, Morgana and Futaba arguing over who got to dance with you next, Ann screaming when she caught the bouquet of flowers you had thrown, and the way you looked, swaying slowly in his arms to a song he didn't know the lyrics to, but you knew every word. He wasn't even sure if he got to eat a slice of the expensive wedding cake that he had paid for.

By the time you both made it to the bridal suite, you were exhausted. Goro was barely able to get your wedding dress off of you before you passed out on the bed. He did his best to carefully remove your makeup so you wouldn't have to worry about it in the morning. He couldn't help but stare at you for a bit as you laid beside him, the light from the moon making your skin glow. His mind was ready to burst from how many mental photos he had taken throughout the day.

Gently, as to not disturb you, he wrapped you in his arms and drifted to sleep while going over the memories he had of this day.

5 years.

You and Goro have been married for 5 years now. Goro couldn't deny that he was happy to wake up next to you every day.

However, today was different. He knew that you had planned to meet up with the girls for an early breakfast, but you didn't wake him up to say goodbye. Usually, on the rare occasions that you would have to leave your shared house before he woke up, you'd wake him up and give him a kiss goodbye.

He had noticed that you had been a bit distant lately, and he couldn't help but worry. Were you falling out of love with him? Were you cheating on him? Was it something worse? His mind filled with all sorts of negative questions and concerns in an attempt to figure out why you were acting the way you were.

Goro waited for you on the couch in your home, planning on confronting you about your strange behavior when you got back. In the 8 years that you've been together, you've never once done something like this, so he was incredibly scared.

The familiar jingle of keys and turning of the lock on the front door signaled your safe arrival home. He watched you freeze for a moment when you made eye contact with him, uncertainty and nervousness clouding your once bright eyes. Goro raised an eyebrow, despite the fear that coursed through his veins.

You took a deep breath before approaching him silently, once in front of him, you dug around in your purse for a moment, before handing him a small white box with a red ribbon tied around it. He stared at the box, shocked as you took a seat beside him. Goro could feel you staring at him, burning a hole into the side of his head. A... gift? This wasn't what he was expecting at all.

"Well?" Your voice sounded so small. Were you afraid of something? He took a moment to look at you before untying the ribbon and opening the box, inside sat three pregnancy tests. Each one testing positive. It took a moment for his brain to process this information. You were pregnant, with his child. That's why you had been so distant. The two of you almost never talked about kids. Due to his traumatic past, Goro believed that he would never be a good father, even with all of the therapy and support from you, he could never see himself being one.

"You're pregnant." He breathed, still staring at the pregnancy tests. "Yeah." You sounded so tired, sad even. Despite his original negative stance on becoming a father, he couldn't help but feel joy. He was going to be the father of your child. He was being given the chance to start a family of his own.

Slowly, he turned towards you, staring down at your stomach. You weren't really showing yet. "Well?" You repeated. Your voice shook, on the verge of tears. Goro didn't respond with words, he just leaned forwards and pushed you into the couch, his arms wrapped around your back and his face pressed into your stomach. He couldn't stop the sob that escaped his lips. He never could've imagined this. Despite his initial fears, he would do his best to be the greatest father that he could be.

Your body shook as you began sobbing as well, one hand gripping the back of his head and the other resting against his back, holding him as he cried.

"I'm going to be a dad?" He cried into your stomach, needing to confirm that this was real. "You're going to be a dad, and an amazing one at that." Your response was so genuine, it made it impossible for him to believe otherwise.

His wish of being loved, of being needed, had really come true.

#goro akechi #goro akechi x reader #goro akechi x fem!reader #persona 5 #persona 5 royal spoilers #fluff #oneshot #persona 5 royal #marriage #goro akechi lives #unplanned pregnancy #he just wants love

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fabricated-misslieness · 4 years ago

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Peter Parker x gender neutral hero reader

Had the idea out of nowhere, thought it’d be fun

Reader has the ability to resurrect, but have they told anybody? Guess what, no. This technically means that they’d be invulnerable to eternal death by old age, except they’d live dying from old age over and over until the end of time.

Requested: No

Word Count: 1842

Warnings: Major character death, swearing, angst to fluff, sad Peter, promise rings, car crash, atheist Peter and atheist reader, swearing

He thought the 5 stages of grief were false, just a meme to laugh at on the internet. Boy, was he wrong. It was real, all too real.

You'd proven him wrong.

He wished all the ceremonies would be done.

They were overwhelming. He barely had any time to grief before all the events had begun. As a result, he had to bottle up all his feelings. All those speeches he gave in frustration, all those fake smiles he had to give, and all those condolences he had to receive, he wanted it all to be over. When he had the time and everything was over, he finally realized that you were truly gone.

He wished he could have warned you sooner.

“Look out!” His spider-sense had told him before he could warn you. Those were his last words to you. All the pleading, shouting, sobbing.. that’d been done when you were long gone. It was his fault and he would never stop blaming himself for it.

He wished that by some miracle, you’d be with him again.

You didn’t have powers like him, you didn’t have powers, tenacity or years of training like most of the Avengers. You were just you, a teen without a family, with bare strength, flexibility, and the biggest heart he knew. Perhaps in another timeline, you’d never become a hero. You’d just be his lover, supportive and loving and caring and all that. He would do anything, kill, betray, massacre, if it meant having you back. Maybe it was selfish, maybe it was irrational, but he wanted you to be here, with him.

He wished you’d never left him.

But Peter can’t control life and death, the same way he couldn’t control your actions. You were gone. Nobody could change that and nobody would. He should stop visiting that sapling.. or maybe he should go more frequently. It made him cry more but… maybe that was the way to let you go.

He wished to live forever.

To visit that tree every single day until he died, to see it grow the size of a Coast Redwood, because he knew you were strong enough for that. To live for you, to continue going for you. You’d want that. You’d wanted kids, you’d wanted marriage, you wanted to die of old age with him, you wanted to do so much with him. If he couldn’t do most of those things, at least he could do one. At least he could live like you wanted him to.

Ned, Tony, the Avengers, they were like family to him. They, along with aunt May, had helped Peter come to terms with you. They'd been with him through and through, just like you had once.

Which is why he started all over again when he saw you.

“Hey Peter.” Soft-spoken words in the same gentle voice he’d learned to love. Yet, why was he hearing this again? For a second, he contemplated this, thinking about all the possibilities. This could be a new person with the same voice, he could be hallucinating, which makes ‘I can still hear their voice’ true; this could be some sort of recording… this could be you.

He whips around, almost too fast, to see you, in the flesh. This couldn’t be. You’d died, for god’s sake, you’d died! He saw your lifeless corpse. He was there at your funeral, he looked into your casket at the reception, you were there. So why the fuck are you here now?

“Who-” Peter chokes back a sob. He can feel the tears prick his eyes; he thought he’d ran out of shit to cry out, yet his body finds a way to defy him. “Who the fuck are you?” He has a right to be confused, and to feel threatened. He’s a teenager with superpowers who’d witnessed his partner’s death, and then suddenly he’s back in front of him as if nothing had happened. For all he knew, this could be a new supervillain with transformation powers. Loki and other mutants proved that anything could be possible.

"I know you're confused, and probably scared, but…" You step forward slowly, arms cautiously reaching out to your love. Peter slaps your hand away, but you understand why.

"No shit!" Peter shouts, backing away from you and towards his web shooters. Whoever you were, supervillain or not, you definitely knew about his powers. He could climb up the wall and get to safety. Though everything in him was fighting against his logic and longing to hear you speak and explain.

"I'm not here to hurt you," You step back, remembering just how shitty that phrase is. It's also a phrase a villain would use, and Peter knows that perfectly well. "I'm sorry about that. I don't mean it like a supervillain." It really felt like that was you, but he couldn't trust you until he was sure. "Peter, I'm your lover. I'm (y/n)."

Peter almost runs into your arms but he fights to stop himself. "How do I know that's you?" He shouts. The thin walls would alert neighbors, but he didn't care.

At one point, he'd begged and pleaded for you to come back. Now you were in front of him, and he hadn't done anything for this to happen; he was sure it wasn't those gods he prayed to, as an atheist.

"You can't." You mutter under your breath, hoping he doesn't catch it. You hadn't thought this through enough. You fiddled with your hands, pacing back and forth. Unbeknownst to you, you were scaring Peter. The pacing had made you look insane. Then, you got a thought. The promise rings you'd gotten each other like the cheesy naive teens you were. They were unique, custom-made, courtesy of Tony, and you were buried with yours. "Peter."

"I was buried with this. There's no other like it." You hold up your hand, showing him the ring. "Hell, I was buried in these!" You gesture towards yourself.

Tears stream down Peter's face as he scrambles for his ring. He'd left his in his nightstand drawer while he cried all those nights. The engravings had scratched against his skin as he wiped his cheeks. He grabs it out of the mess of the drawer, the sight of it causing the tears to start rolling in bigger, hotter droplets.

"(y/n)!" Peter cried out. The promise ring was enough to prove you were… you. Plus, you looked sincere.

"Sweetheart." You sigh out of relief. Peter rushes over to you, wrapping his arms around you in a concerningly weak hug. He buries his head into your chest. You kiss him his hair multiple times to reassure him. "I love you, I'd never leave you."

"But you did!" Peter sobs, further staining your burial clothes. You didn't particularly like them or anything. Peter knew that, but your family was in charge of it.

"I know I did, I'm sorry." You cup Peter's cheeks and pull him to look up at you. The sight of his face, puffy and teary-eyed, it made you feel bad because you were the cause of it. "How about we sit down and I explain?"

He nods, pulling you over to the bed.

"You need anything? Water or..?" He shakes his head.

You sit on the bed, but Peter pushes you to lay down. He snuggles into your side, still sniffling but doing better. "Well, where do I start?"

You run a hand through Peter's hair as you think. "For starters, I can resurrect."

"What the fuck."

"I know, totally weird. I figured out when I got into a car crash. I was pronounced dead on the hospital bed, but when they came back to move the body, I was suddenly alive again. Nobody had an explanation, since they tried with a defibrillator earlier and it hadn't worked." Peter reaches for your hand. "They called it a miracle, some work of god. It sounded like bullshit so I never believed it. There was never really a second time until now, which proved my ongoing theory."

"That's… rough." He really didn’t have anything to say.

"That's rough, buddy." You quoted, to which Peter laughed.

For a moment, you sit in silence. Neither of you know what to say or even if you shouldn't talk. Maybe you should get up or maybe you should stay. Peter speaks up, ending both of your insecurities.

“So.. you’re alive. Does that mean we’ll get our happy ending? Get married… maybe have kids?” He looks up at you with pleading eyes, even if he knows you agree. You got these promise rings and you’d talked about your happy ending a whole lot. Should you be thinking that far ahead? Whenever you thought about the future, all you saw was Peter as your husband.

“Everything we’ve talked about. Yes.” You sit up a bit, which confuses Peter for a second until you pull him onto your lap and pepper kisses all over his face. It’s something you commonly do when talking about stuff like that.

“I missed this.” Peter mumbled. “But I do have one question, well, maybe a couple.”

“Ask away.”

“You were buried with the ring, so what happened with the grave?” You grimace, which makes Peter giggle in anticipation for the obviously chaotic story you’re about to tell.

“I dunno what happened, but it exploded. When I woke up the casket was broken and the dirt above it was scattered everywhere. Might have messed up other graves, hopefully the dead don’t come after me.” Speaking of which, you rub a little dirt smudge off your ring.

“Did it happen at the hospital, too?”

“No.” You shake your head, gazing off as you think about it. “Maybe it’s my powers looking after me. After all, I wouldn’t love being buried alive.”

Peter winces at the thought. “Right. Wouldn’t your powers mean that you’re immortal?”

“Yeah…” You frown, pressing a kiss on Peter’s nose to reassure the both of you, maybe more for yourself. “I would be, and I’d be very lonely too. Damn, never thought about that.”

Peter pulls your hand up to his lips to kiss your ring. “Then live for me, just as I did for like a week.”

“A week? It’s been that long?” You scratch your head. “It was a few hours at the hospital. Maybe it’s cause of how brutal that dude beat me.” You shiver, remembering the pain you’d felt right before your death. “Has it made the news?”

“Yea. It’s like a movie now.” Peter laughs. “Fighting crime while the criminals think you’re a ghost. Wait.. wouldn’t that mean you’d have to hide your identity? I’d be alone with school, nobody to defend me from flash? Man, that’d suck.”

“Unfortunately. Although the crime fighting part is fun, the rest would be awful. Well, I could get a new identity. That cool haircut I’ve always wanted, a new cool name like… I don’t know, Remy?”

Peter laughs loudly, “Remy is not a cool name!”

“Hey, don’t hate on the Ratatouille rat.”

#swearshirt #peter parker x reader #spider-man x reader #mcu x reader #marvel x reader #angst #angst fic

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xbunnybunz · 4 years ago

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circhester city blues [hop x reader]

Summary: Hop finds you at outside at midnight, mulling over some personal thoughts. He extends some much needed words of comfort, and a little bit more.

Genre: Fluff

Date: July 12, 2020

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Circhester was unlike anything you had ever seen before.

Snowflakes drifted slowly from the sky, brushing over the city with a crispy new layer of snow. The cold nighttime air was serene, moving languidly over your exposed cheekbones and fingertips and leaving you slightly shuddering. A hum of gentle music floated softy in the breeze, sounding quite melancholy and tearful.

You lean over the railing on the higher point of the city, eyes taking in the scene of the city of snow. The sensation of snowflakes grazes your skin with a soft nip, melting away and leaving you yearning for more than that gossamer touch.

You close your eyes to eternalize this memory, the sweet and delicate song echoing in the distance and the soft glow of nighttime snow flurries dancing before your eyes. It is times like these, where you’re away from the crowds and cheering of fans, do you get the time to reflect on your journey.

The beginning of this trek seemed so long ago. The hazy memories of Postwick and its endless expanse of green fields leave you feeling bittersweet. As much as you miss home and the feeling of waking up at home in your soft bed, the smell of freshly cooked omlettes wafting from the kitchen, you’ve been beginning to ponder the end of your journey.

The heights and lulls of your adventure fill you with purpose, and every morning you wake up with a mission in mind. Other times, when the excitement dies down and the sun begins to dwindle behind the horizon, you can set up your tent and lay under the stars, counting the specks of light until the coos of your pokemon lull you to sleep.

That is something that, with all its glorious, warm sunshine and creaking cottage houses, Postwick cannot give you.

You watch as one by one, houses lining the streets illuminate with life from the inside. Families come together for supper, their shadows dancing across the cobblestone path lined with a thin layer of snow. You wonder if you’re selfish for not wanting to return home- not wanting this chapter of your life to be over so soon.

Tomorrow was the day you were scheduled to battle Melony, the Ice type gym leader and sixth hurdle to completing your Pokemon Gym Challenge. You think back to your first challenge against Milo, and wonder why you’re not feeling the same jittery feeling in your stomach.

The first night before your first gym battle, you were kept awake by the visions of battle and victory. You recall recounting the potential battle strategies you could use against the grass type leader in your sleep, which led to a night of tossing and turning in Bedew Hotel.

You sigh, your breath making small puffs of clouds in the air. You look down, clenching and unclenching your fists to get blood flowing back into your fingers. There had been a lot you encountered in your travels, all of which would’ve never found had you stayed in your hometown.

You had the chance to step into the battle arena, the stadium pumped full of life and vivacity that made your ears ring and heart swell. The cries of millions watching from home set your soul ablaze, and the urge to pursue your dreams had never been stronger. Amidst your challenge, you met many new and beautiful souls, both in battles and in passing. Each had their own stories and dreams to follow, burning with the passion of life. Their voices rang in your ears as you crept through the dusty Galar mines and scaled the Turrfield ruins, the experiences lives bleeding into yours and coloring you with wonder and devotion.

Many days as you waded through the wild area, you wondered if the sun ever burned so bright back at home. With enough warmth to sear your skin, warm your bones and bleach the heavens with nothing but clear, blue skies. Every night, you find yourself in awe that the starry night sky expanded so far over the horizon, deep, dark and heavy. You always question if it’s the same sky you see through your little window at home, hanging humbly over your desk in a wooden frame.

As the snow falls upon your face, you turn skyward, beholding the moon in all its lustrous, ephemeral beauty. It drips with tantalizing fullness, the light spilling over to speckle stars into the unfathomably darkening night. It hangs heavily in the inky blackness, as if even the skies aren’t large enough to hold it up.

You catch yourself thinking about who you were, and who you are. You wonder if the journey has allowed you to grow too much, too large for your modest little hometown.

The crisp sound of snow underfoot breaks the spell of silence, but you don’t need to look to know who it is.

A violet haired boy leans on the barristrade beside you, a relaxed smile stretching across his face and lighting his eyes.

“Fancy catching you out here,” He teases. “Pondering the mysteries of the universe?”

You see him staring at you from the periphery of your vision. You kick at the snow by the ledge, watching it fall into the fountain underneath.

“Not quite, but I was getting there before you came along.”

Hop laughed, and it was bold and rectifying. It echoed off the brick walls and concrete statues to warm your heart, and soon your cheeks.

“A right ruckus you are. How can you stand out here for so long and still have mysteries unsolved?”

You stutter, feeling quite abashed he had called you out on your glooming. “It hasn’t been that long! I was just… Admiring the view.”

Hop’s smile softens, and in the warm yellow light of the streetlamps, his eyes look like dark pools of swirling honey.

The way he carries himself is new, yet familiar. You know he’s the same Hop that left Postwick with you all those months ago, and yet seeing him like this reminds you that you have not been the only one growing. His exuberant flame is still there, licking at the edges of his smile and playing at the corners of his eyes. But somehow, he seems more mellow, more willing to stop for a second before surging forwards like the freight engine you’ve always known.

They’re all small shifts, but bring you comfort nonetheless, knowing you’re not the only one who may feel out of place. Hop’s the one thing in your adventures that remained constant despite change, as sturdy as an anchor in the raging sea.

When you look at him in the dull glow of the moon, you feel like you have a fragment home in your hands. You see tanned skin and the sun-kissed freckles that faintly pepper his cheeks, a signature mark of a Postwick Wooloo herder. It contrasts greatly with the snow that has settled onto his hair and the fur lining his denim jacket, as Postwick doesn’t often have cold seasons.

“What are you doing out here, anyways?” You ask.

Hop peers over the rising, and then up at the sky. “I was looking for you.”

Your heart throbs at the way he speaks so candidly. “For me? Don’t you think I can handle myself, now?”

He chokes, and waves his hands. “No, that’s not what I meant! What I mean to say is…”

He places a hand on the nape of his neck, now his turn to feel embarrassed. “It’s a force of habit, I guess? It was always my job to fetch you before supper back in Postwick, before you got your first pokemon.”

You grin and give him a bit of a shove with your shoulder to let him know you were joking. He stumbles a tad, but recovers quickly with a mirthful smile, gladly settling back into his place next to you.

“It’s been a while, huh?” You say.

Hop leans heavily on the balustrade, crossing one long leg behind the other. “More than a while. I still remember how you cried when I caught my Wooloo, you were so worried I’d leave for the pokemon challenge without you.”

You laughed at the memory, but the distance between then and now makes you a bit teary-eyed.

“Would you have?”

Hop smiled at the thought, but shook his head. “No, I’ve always known I wanted to start the challenge with you as my rival. But I’ll admit, I really thought I was ready to take on the world at the time, just my level three Wooloo and me.”

You giggled and he reddened, though you were unsure if it was from the cold or being flustered.

“Thanks, Hop. That means a lot to me. I wouldn’t rather have anyone else by my side for this wild ride.”

He grins at you, taken aback and flattered all at once. “Oh, geez. I’m real glad to hear you say that, but don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because you said that!”

“Drat, I thought flattery would work for sure this time.”

You roll your eyes and subconsciously lean into him a bit more for warmth, though it doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

He blushes, a deep red reaching the tips of his ears and sticking a lump in his throat. He swallows thickly, and doesn’t say anything for the longest time.

You watch as the moon silhouettes the lightpoles in the air, overtaking their light with its own. Hop notices your silence, gives you a small smile.

“What have you been thinking about?” He asks, breaking the stillness.

You pull back from him, and you think you see a flash of disappointment across his face, but it’s gone as soon as it came.

“What do you mean?”

Hop shakes his head at you, the snow in his hair catching the illumination of the moon and making him seem almost otherworldly. “You’ve been gone since we finished eating dinner with Sonia. There’s not much sightseeing to do here, especially after the sun sets.”

You look at the city again to confirm his words, and find that he’s right. You’ve been moping about on your lonesome in the drape of the night, thinking about the inevitable end to the story you’ve waited so long to experience.

You figure that if anyone else can understand you, it’s Hop, the boy who’s grown up beside you all your life.

“Do you ever not want this to end?” You ask, snowflakes catching on your eyelashes and melting away just as quickly.

Hop doesn’t speak, and you take this as a sign to continue.

“This is the most I’ve ever seen of the world, and it’s far more beautiful than anything I could’ve ever imagined. I want to keep feeling the wind in my hair when I take flying taxis to the next gym, and I want to always feel the sand brewing into a storm in the battle arena. I want to keep meeting new people, meeting new goals and making new aspirations. I don’t ever want to stop chasing this dream, but I know that I’m going to catch up to it one day. And what happens then? “

You turn to him, your eyes sparkling alongside all the stars in the sky. “I don’t know if I’ll ever belong in Postwick anymore, or anywhere at all for that matter. The stars reach too far, and the sun moves too quickly for me to just go home and watch them when I know I could be out here, running after them.”

You shudder, the cold air nipping at your skin through your thin jacket. “Every step forwards feels like a step backwards, too. The closer I get to finishing this challenge, the sooner I know I’ll have to go back home.”

Your shoulders slump, and you can’t help but sigh softly, dejectedly. Mist collects in the night air at your exhale, and evaporates.

You’re surprised to feel something thick and heavy descend upon your shoulders, cocooning you in warmth and the familiar scent of pine. You look up, and your cheek brushes worn Wooloo fur.

“Hop, you’ll catch a cold.” You say, moving to shrug off his denim jacket. But he places his hand on your back, firmly holding the jacket in place. He gives you a smile and it’s enough for you to drop your efforts.

“Keep it on, you’re shivering.”

You keep eye contact with him a beat too long, but he doesn’t say anything when you turn away.

For a long moment, you wonder if he would respond and feel silly for asking him these things. When he speaks again, his voice clear in the crisp snowfall, you’re taken by surprise.

“I think every adventure is richest with a definite ending. It means we achieved what we set out to do.” He says.

“But the most important part's gotta be finding new pieces of yourself to explore, and that’ll never expire. You’re right, we may be done with this part of our journey, but now we know what drives our hearts. Without going through this, we would never know how many more stories lie ahead, ready for us to learn from.”

Hop turns to you, eyes gleaming, drawing you in.

“And I don’t know about you, but it means the world to me that I get to go on my first big adventure with my closest friend. It helped me realize that I have a lot to learn from other people, and a lot to learn from you, too.”

You feel your heart twinge and pulse quicken at the tone in his voice. You divert your eyes to the buildings behind Hop instead, unable to bear his intensity, and take in the lights dwindling with silhouettes of families ready to sleep. He presses on, voice bordering almost on a whisper now.

“I can’t wait to become the person I’m meant to be, (y/n). And I can’t wait to see the person you’ll become too. I really want to tell you all the things I know I’ll be amazed by in the future, but even more than that, I want you to be there beside me, like now, so we can both learn from it together. I know there’s so much more out there for the both of us.”

Your eyes prick with tears, and the moon and the stars and the streetlights all blur together into one large and glistening mosaic.

“Hop… Thank you. I don’t think you know how much I needed to hear that right now.”

You reach up and brush away your tears, blood rushing in your ears when you realized Hop’s hand never left your back.

“I’ve just been so worried about everything. The challenge, our sponsors, and that strange gigantamax energy showing up everywhere. But now that the end seems so close, I was worried I’d be left unfulfilled.”

Every inhale you take smells like him, and it’s calming and electrifying at the same time. The stars twinkling overhead seemed dull in comparison to the glint in hazel eyes, shining with endless ambition yet such patience.

“But?” He asked, a puff of cold mist trailing from his lips, beckoning.

“You were right. There is more for us out there, more than either of us could begin to imagine. And I can’t wait to see it all.”

He smiles again, softly. Dimples push at his cheeks, and you suddenly really want to hold his hand. So you do.

His fingers are rough from years of wrestling Wooloo, but his hands are still large and warm. When you slip your hand into his, he doesn’t hesitate to thread his fingers through yours, and it’s a perfect fit.

You sneak a glance up at him again, and this time it’s his turn to be abashed. His cheeks are tinged pink, and his gaze is directed towards the water, the soft rippling casting a calm glow on his frame.

“Hop?”

He startles at your voice, and you can barely hold back a chuckle.

“Hm? Yeah?”

“Did you mean what you said before? About us?”

He pulls his gaze back to you, face still flushed but voice thick with earnestness.

“Of course I meant it.”

The words swell a happiness in your stomach, and you look up at him, admiring the unruliness of his hair and the softness of his features basking in the nighttime sky, contrasted by a pair of sunny yellow eyes that speckled like amber in the dark. Then you really looked at him.

You looked into his eyes and saw gold, as vivid and overflowing as the wheat fields back in Postwick you both spent years running up and down in autumn. You saw endless humid summers of climbing trees and splashing in lakes, you saw the boy who picked you up and carried you home when you slipped on the stairs just outside the village, and the boy who you got into a fist fight for because someone called his hair funny. You looked at him and recounted all these memories, of the times you had laughed together, and cried together. When you looked at him, you saw your rock, your inspiration and your best friend- perhaps now, something even more.

You reached up to brush a hand against his cheek, skin cold then blossoming with warmth under your touch.

He leans into your palm, eyes burning and never leaving your own.

The moon hung low in the sky now, full and heavy with a pearlescent sheen that inked your shadows into the stone floor, standing closer now than ever before.

Hop whispered your name, the warm air washing over you and drawing goosebumps. You hummed in response, much too lost in your trance to respond with words.

“I'm really glad we're here right now.”

A knot closes in your throat and a gentle warmth spreads across your face at the sincerity of his words. You’re not sure how to respond, so you just draw yourself closer to him. He dips his head to meet you halfway, and in a single slow and blissful moment, the space between you and Hop dwindles down to zero.

His lips are soft and chaste, moving with a slow and tender languidness that made your legs wobble and knees buckle. You grip at his shirt for support and he responds by pulling you flush against him, arm looping around your waist and the other hand still sweetly holding onto yours.

When it ends, you’re both breathless and red in the cheeks. He rests his forehead on yours and his eyes are deep and endless; pupils blown and hair askew, tickling your face and blushing your cheeks.

The snow nipping at your clasped hands is a reminder that the universe is moving everywhere around you. Yet time feels slowed and perfect, and the world, though large, seems to fit lovingly intertwined between your fingers.

Your bodies are languorous and barely want to untangle, but Hop laughs at the snow collected in your hair. You wonder how even in the cold night, his laughter is full and round and warm. You can feel his body, pressed against yours, trembling from the cold without his denim jacket. You tease him for this, but do it with a grateful smile while wrapped in the scent of Hop.

The night had grown long and with it came the dropping temperatures.

“Let’s head back to Ionia Hotel, we should get some rest before taking down Melony tomorrow, don't you reckon?” Hop asks cheekily, despite his tousled hair and labored breathing.

You want to poke fun at him some more, but bite your tongue. Instead, you nod and began your trek together with him, hands still linked and hearts ever pounding under the cape of the shimmering, expanding night sky, and look to the future.

#pokemon #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon sword and shield hop #fanfiction #reader insert #hop x reader

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johnsbleu · 4 years ago

Text

Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 97

warnings: a few quick nsfw moments Hold My Hand Masterlist

The house is almost completely decorated for Christmas even though it’s only the first week of December. You got so excited the day after Thanksgiving, and you went to the store and bought so many decorations. It’s the first time that you and John have been able to really spend Christmas together since he was working this time last year, and you’re so happy to finally have him all to yourself. And instead of going to your mom’s for Christmas, she’s coming to you, which makes you all more excited to show off how nice your house looks for the holidays.

You’re just putting the last touches on the living room while John shovels the walkways and patio since a few inches of snow fell this morning, and you walk over to the window to watch John. His cheeks are tinted red from the cold, and even the tip of his nose has a bit of color too. John waves when he looks at you, and you hold up your mug of warm apple cider to offer it to him.

John told you that Helen used to make it all the time and that he remembered the recipe since it was fairly simple, so he made some this morning. He was so proud of himself when you took a big sip and nodded your head that you liked it, and the smile on his face nearly killed you.

Setting the mug down on the coffee table, you grab the throw blanket and sit down as John comes in and stomps the snow off his boots before he takes off his jacket and removes his boots. He shivers a little as he walks over to sit down next to you, and you wrap the blanket over him and hold him to warm him up.

“You’re so cold,” you laugh, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, “My turn to warm you up, huh?”

John chuckles as he nods, “Yeah, it was a lot colder out than I thought. Hey, the house looks great, by the way.”

“You think so?” you ask, then you shrug as you look around at it, “This is the first time that I’ve been able to really decorate our place. I mean, I did last year, but it was only up for a few days, and you weren’t even home for half of it.”

“Oh, yeah,” John looks over at you and laughs, “I was working then. Anyway, yeah, the house looks great.”

The two of you sit in silence as you look around at the Christmas decorations; the lights strung up, the plump little Santa sitting on the coffee table next to a bowl of cinnamon scented pine cones -- John picked them out because he loved the smell.

One of the things about the living room that you’re always worried about is the fact that the walls are just large glass windows, but you’re starting to warm up to the idea more, especially since it looks beautiful outside with the snow. The Christmas tree is front and center in the window, but it’s bare as of right now since you’ll need John’s help to get lights on it.

“We’ll have to get those lights up on it by tonight.” John says, then he snuggles into your arms, “What have you been doing this morning?”

“Well,” you lean forward a little grab the notebook off the table, “This is probably so dumb, but I really want to do something for your birthday. Before you say anything, let me explain.”

“Baby, it’s fine. I married you, that’s all I would have wanted for my birthday.” he says, and you smile as he reaches over to cup your cheek. “But sure, explain it to me.”

You exhale and look over at him, “We didn’t do anything for your birthday, and I feel bad about it.”

John chuckles as he rubs his thumb over your cheek, “It was three months ago, so it must be really bothering you.”

“Everything was so hectic because our wedding was in just three days, so we just-- I just forgot. I mean, I didn’t forget your birthday, but we just didn’t do anything.” you frown a little, then you perk up and look at John, “I was writing down different ideas for a date night. I want to plan the whole thing for you and surprise you. You do so much for me, so many romantic nights for me, and I want to return the favor.”

John smiles as he nods his head, “That’s sweet.”

You shrug as you hold tight to your notebook since John is trying to take it from you, “No looking! It’s all me. You deserve a surprise.”

“Fine,” he jokingly rolls his eyes and laughs, “Do you have anything in mind yet?”

“I have a few things.” you say as you get up from the couch, and you laugh loudly when he pulls you into his lap and kisses your cheek.

John tucks your hair behind your ear and places another kiss on your cheek, “You look beautiful today, Mrs. Wick.”

“Ah,” you close your eyes and smile, “I’ll never not get butterflies when I hear that. Thanks for reminding me that I’m the wife to an amazing man.”

“Thanks for marrying me.” he laughs against your cheek, “Still don’t understand how I managed that one.”

You wrap your right arm around John’s neck and get situated on his lap, “This is why I want to do something special for you. I want you to know how much I adore you and love you. You’re my favorite person on this planet, and I want you to know that.”

“I do know that,” John lets out a small laugh, “You think I don’t know how much you love me?”

Shrugging, you look down and sigh, “Sometimes I wonder. You just do so much for me.”

“And you do too.” he whispers softly, tilting your chin up so you’ll look at him, “Trust me, I don’t need dates to know that you love me. Just you being here after everything we’ve been through, after everything I’ve told you -- that’s how I know you love me: you’re still here.”

You cup John’s face as you nod your head, growing a little teary eyed, “I’m always going to be here, because I love you. I love this life that we have too. It’s a really good life.”

“It is,” John nods, leaning forward to kiss you as you hug him tighter in your arms.

Tilting your head to the side, you part your lips as John slides his tongue into your mouth, and you hum as his hand glides up your thigh. You lean back and try to look at John as he kisses your neck, “I’m still planning a date, okay?”

“Sure,” he says, paying more attention to getting you upstairs than what you’re saying.

“I mean, you’re probably gonna hate it and everything, but…” you trail off into a bit of a rant as John sucks and kisses on your neck and chest, and he lifts you into his arms as he stands up from the couch and heads up to your bedroom. “I think it’ll be fun for us, and maybe we can -- John, are you listening to me?”

“Yeah,” he says, reaching down as he tries to open the door, but he fails, “Will…will you open the door? Why is the door even shut?”

“I had decorations up here that I didn’t want Bleu to chew on,” you cock up your eyebrow and look at him, “Were you even listening to me?”

John takes a deep breath as he prepares to recite everything you’ve just told him, but he lets it out and laughs, “No, I wasn’t.”

“I said I’m still planning a date.” you hold his gaze as he looks at you, then you reach over and open the door, giving John a disapproving but playful look as he laughs.

“You can plan whatever you’d like and I’ll be on board. I promise.” he say, plopping you down on the bed and immediately laying down on you, “Anything.”

You close your eyes as John kisses down your neck to your chest as he begins to lift up your shirt, and you reach down and cup his face, “Good.”

Sitting on your bed, you quickly close your laptop screen when you hear John coming up the stairs, and you close your eyes and sigh in relief when Tess turns the corner with Finn on her hip.

“Hey,” she smiles, setting Finn on the bed and then stretching out her arms and back, “What are you doing? I’ve been calling you all morning, but you didn’t answer. Figured I’d just come over.”

You scrunch your eyebrows up and reach over for your phone, then you sigh when you see it’s gone, “Jonathan Charles Wick! Get your butt up here! And bring my phone!”

Several moments later, you see John poke his head around the corner and smile cheekily, “Hi, baby.”

You put your hand out as John walks into the bedroom, and you tap your palm repeatedly, “My phone.”

John laughs as he pulls your phone out of his pocket, pretending to be shocked when he sees it, “Oh, I must have grabbed yours instead of mine.”

“Oh, save it.” you laugh, taking your phone from him and holding it up, “My case has peaches all over it. I’m positive that you know that this isn’t yours.”

Tess looks back and forth between the two of you and laughs, “What is going on here?”

“I’m planning a date night for John, and he thinks I’m stupid enough to search for everything on my phone.” you say, then you shake your head as you reach out to kiss him, “Get out of here because I’m going to tell Tess about it.”

John chuckles as he leans down to give you a better kiss, then he picks up Finn and kisses his cheek, “Fine, but I’m taking him.”

Tess immediately lays down and closes her eyes, “Thank god. Mommy needs a nap. His bottle is in his bag on the couch if he gets fussy.”

You blow a kiss at John as he leaves, then you open your laptop and look at Tess, “So, I’m planning a date night for John, but you and Jimmy are invited. I want to invite Amanda and Aurelio too -- and their kids. Finny is too little.”

“Ooh, I’m intrigued.” Tess sits up and looks at your laptop.

“90s night at the roller rink in Brighton.” you smile as you look over at Tess, “This place doesn’t just have skating. There’s an arcade, bowling, and laser tag.”

Tess puts her hand over her mouth and laughs, “Shut up! Yes! Let’s do it.”

“John will be totally out of his element, and I’m praying that he loves me enough to do this.” you turn your laptop to show Tess, “They play 90s music all night, and come on, it just looks fun.”

Leaning over to look at the pictures, Tess nods, “I think he’ll have fun.”

“I hope so,” you take a deep breath and look at her, “Are you free tomorrow?”

“Oh, absolutely. I’ll drop Finn off with his Grandma, and then I’m free all night.”

You pick at your nails as you look at your laptop, then you lean down to make sure you clear your search history -- John just can’t stand being out of the loop. You close the laptop and set it aside, then you and Tess head downstairs to see John laying on the living room floor with Finn next to him as they play with some toys.

John is not so patiently waiting for your ovulation day, which is less than a week away at this point, and you’re both hoping like hell that this will be the time. You so badly want to have a baby with him, and you’re just praying that it happens soon.

“Hi, handsome,” you smile as you sit down on the floor next to Finn, and he pulls himself up to you. You look over at John and wink, “You too.”

“John, you’re gonna love this.” Tess says, smiling at him when he sits up, “It’ll be fun, and you love your wife, so you’re not going to complain.”

You scoff, “Yeah, well, we’ll see.”

You’re not too thrilled to have to drive in the snow, but you don’t want John to drive because then he’ll know exactly where you’re going. John keeps offering to drive so you don’t have to, but you smile and shake your head.

“I’m not going to get sick, am I?” John asks as you both walk out to the car, and you furrow your brow when you look at him. “Like rollercoasters?”

You laugh as you get in the car, “It’s December.”

“Oh, yeah, true.” John exhales, pulling on his seat belt.

You pull onto the street and begin to drive to Brighton while John fumbles around with the radio to find something to listen to. He lets out a small sigh and reaches into your purse for your phone, then he connects it to the Bluetooth and starts to play a playlist you’ve made of songs for the two of you, and he looks over at you to check for your reaction when one of his favorite songs comes on.

“Ooh, good song choice.”

John smiles as he looks over at you, “This song reminds me of you.”

“Well isn’t that odd?” you glance over at him and smile, “Because it reminds me of you!”

Leaning over to kiss your cheek, John quietly sings along to the song, and you smile when you meet his gaze for a moment before you focus on driving. You’re holding tight to the steering wheel as you drive through the snow, but a smile spreads across your face again as you feel John place his hand on your thigh, causing you to finally relax more.

“I’m excited.” John whispers as he looks at you, leaning closer to kiss your cheek. “Can I have a hint?”

“Hmm…” you tilt your head a little, “I don’t know. Let me think. Well, it could be a sweet date for any age. Families, first dates, teenage couples.”

John laughs, “A carnival?”

“December, John.”

“Oh, yeah.” he chuckles.

“No more guessing, you’re gonna figure it out.” you shake your head and look over at John, “I want to surprise you.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, leaning over to kiss your cheek again, “You smell good, baby.”

You smile as you look over at John, and your stomach fills with butterflies when your gaze meets his. How the hell is he your husband? You’re still not quite used to it.

“Hey, am I dressed okay?” he asks, gesturing to his gray t-shirt and denim jeans, “I noticed you were in a t-shirt and jeans, so I just dressed more casual.”

You look over John’s outfit and nod, “Perfect. I love this shirt on you, by the way. You look very handsome.”

“Thanks,” John looks down at it and fixes it, then he inhales deeply and looks over at you again, “Sorry, I keep looking at you.”

“I’ve noticed.” you chuckle softly, then you look over at John, “Why is that?”

John chuckles as he shrugs, “Can’t believe you’re my wife. I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around it.”

“No shit? Because me too!” you laugh as you look at him, “I can’t believe it. I’m so lucky.”

Reaching over, John places his hand on the back of your head and scratches his fingers against your scalp, “I can’t imagine my life without you, peach.”

You smile softly as you look at John, then you reach over and pinch his cheek lightly, “I really hope you like this.”

John smiles tenderly as he looks at you, “I will.”

“Okay, Jonathan, I gotta ask a weird question.”

John chuckles as he looks at you, “Okay.”

“In my purse, there’s a bandana. I need you to put it over your eyes.” you say, and John laughs as he looks at you in disbelief, “Please, baby, I want you to be surprised!”

“Fine,” he chuckles, putting the bandana over his eyes, “Just because you’re so cute.”

Pulling into the parking lot, you wave when you see Amanda and Aurelio have already arrived with their kids, and you pull into a spot next to them. Jimmy pulls up next to you and laughs when he sees John with a bandana over his eyes.

“Stay here.” you get out of the car and walk over to Amanda, “Okay, he has no idea where we are, so we gotta keep it a secret.”

Amanda kneels down next to Benji and looks at him, “Uncle John is getting a surprise, okay? Don’t tell him where we are. Don’t say anything.”

“Got it, mommy!” he says, then he smiles at you.

You open the door and reach for John’s hand, and he laughs as he gets out, “Everyone’s here. You just can’t see them.”

“Hi, Uncle John!”

John chuckles as he blindly reaches out to pat Benji’s head, “Hi, Benji.”

“Okay, I feel bad for the poor thing. Let’s get him inside.” you laugh taking John’s hand as you all head to the building, making sure he doesn’t trip on the stairs. “Oh, there’s going to be music playing, so keep that in mind.”

Pushing the door open, you smile wide when you see the colorful lights strobing around the skate rink, and you squeal a little when you see the arcade is lit up with a black light and neon signs. You turn around and reach up to pull the bandana off of John, and he blinks a few times to get his eyes to adjust.

“Surprise! We’re going skating!” you clasp your hands in front of your chest and wait for John’s reaction.

“Wow…” he laughs as he looks around, then he smiles when he sees his friends. “I never would have guessed this.”

You look at John as everybody walks away to the arcade and skate rental, and you shrug when he looks at you. You bite your lip nervously and shrug again since John isn’t really having a reaction. You look over your shoulder as Tess and Jimmy lace up their skates, then you look to your right to see Benji and Aurelio playing a game in the arcade.

“Hey,” John wraps his arms around your waist and smiles, “This is good.”

“Is it? You didn’t have much of a reaction. If you don’t like this, please tell me and we can go somewhere else.”

John shakes his head and leans down to kiss you, “No, no, this is great! I just…I can’t skate.”

“Are you sure that’s it? Don’t tiptoe around my feelings, it doesn’t help me.”

“I am positive, but…” he pulls you closer and smiles, “I’m willing to put on a pair of skates and let you teach me.”

You smile as you lean up to kiss John and wrap your arms around his neck as he lifts you up. He walks over to Jimmy and Tess with you in his arms, then he sets you down.

“Get your skates!” Tess says, standing up as she looks at you, “I’ll go with you.”

You give John a quick kiss, then you hold hands with Tess as you walk over to get some skates. You sit down on the ground and put them, rolling a little in place to make sure they’re snug, and you smile when you see Amanda tying Benji’s skates.

“Aunt Y/N, will you help me?” he asks, looking up at you, “My mom can’t skate with me because of my little sister, and my dad said he’s too cool.”

Amanda laughs, “No, baby, he didn’t say that. I said he thinks he’s too cool.”

“I would love to help you. Aunt Tess is going to help too!” you say, snapping Benji’s buckle on his helmet.

You take Benji’s hand as he stands up, and he grips so tight to you that your hand turns a little red. He grabs Tess’ hand too, then he slowly skates with you over to the opening to the rink. Tess lets go of his hand so he can hold onto the wall and your hand, and you smile and wave at John as he leans over the wall to watch.

“Can you make it to Uncle John?” you ask, pointing at John as he waves at Benji. You let go of Benji’s hand and stand in front of him, skating backwards as you put your hands out, “I won’t let you fall.”

Jimmy dances past as you laugh, then he quickly skates up behind Tess. You look back at Benji, and you feel John’s hand on your back when you get to him.

“You made it!” you smile at Benji, then you watch him as Jimmy and Tess take his hands and skate with him. You look at John and lean over to kiss him before you dance away from him as you sing along with the song, and you wave him over.

John shakes his head, “Soon though.”

Skating over to Tess, you smile when you see Benji laughing as he clings to Jimmy’s hand, and Tess watches with a smile on her face. You look up as you get closer to John, and you dance by as he talks with Amanda. You stop in front of him and jokingly dance to get his attention, and he reaches out for you, pulling close by your fingertips.

“Amanda, why don’t you skate with Benji?” you ask, and you look over at Aurelio struggling to skate, “Benji convinced Aurelio.”

“Our first date was to the roller rink when we were 17.” she laughs, then she shakes her head, “He’s just as bad now as he was then.”

John looks at her and shrugs, “I can watch Harper.”

Amanda smiles as she hands Harper over to John, then she quickly walks over to get a pair of skates. You look at John as he bounces Harper in his arms, and you lean against the wall and smile as you watch him.

“You look good with a baby.” you smile, then you gasp, “I love this song. I gotta go.”

John and Harper wave at you when you skate away, and you sing the song as Tess skates over to you. The lights start to dim as a disco ball spins in the center of the rink, and you smile when you see Jimmy with Tess, and Amanda and Aurelio with Benji. As you skate past John, you see him bouncing Harper as he sits down on the bench, and you head over to the wall to sit down next to him.

Tess plops down next to John and exhales loudly, “I’m dying of thirst.”

“Wanna head to the arcade?” you ask John as Tess takes Harper, then you get up and change back into your shoes. You hold tight to John’s hand as you head into the arcade, and you smile when he feeds a few dollars to a machine in exchange for some tokens. “So, be honest, are you having fun?”

“I am,” he nods, looking at you, “It’s fun seeing you out there, and now I’m gonna win you something.”

You jokingly roll your eyes as you cling to John’s arm, “Okay.”

John stops in front of a shooting game and winks at you as he puts a token in the machine. He holds up the shotgun and watches as a deer runs across the screen, and he shoots it. He does the same thing several more times until he sees the tickets coming out of the machine.

“Ooh, 10 whole tickets. I can totally get the slap bracelet.” you joke, and John scrunches his eyebrows as he laughs.

“No, I’m winning you that teddy bear.” he says, pointing at the tie-dyed teddy bear hanging on the wall, and you smile as you look at him. “Only the best for my girl.”

As soon as John realized that they had laser tag, he couldn’t be convinced not to play. You’re all standing with the ugly little vests on, and it’s husbands against wives, well, it’s John, Jimmy, and Aurelio against you, Tess and Benji since Amanda has Harper, but John offered to watch her again after this round.

“I’m gonna kick your ass in this,” you tease as you look at John, “Just watch.”

John puffs his chest up and scoffs, “Sure.”

You give John one last kiss before you head into the door opposite of the door he’s going in, and you jokingly glare at him as he laughs. Benji clings to your back pocket, and you and Tess both stand in front of him as to protect him so he isn’t out right away.

Tiptoeing slowly into the room, you look around to find a corner for Benji, then you point at it and kneel down, “Wait here, Aunt Tess and I will lure them over to you, then you’ll get them with a sneak attack.”

“You know you’re not whispering very quietly, peach.” John says, and you immediately turn around to protect Benji.

You look over your shoulder at Benji, then you and Tess both begin to tiptoe around the little arena. It’s not completely dark since there’s a light with different strobing colors, but it is really hard to see. You know that John is probably having no trouble at all -- he’s trained for this.

Tess squeals loudly as she runs away from Jimmy who is chasing her, then you hear Benji laughing when Aurelio spots him, which means John is probably stalking right behind you or somewhere near you. Taking a deep breath, you stop in place as you look around, then you immediately turn around as John shoots you.

“You ass!” you shoot John back and laugh as he grabs you by the waist and pushes you against the wall, “Oh, what? You’re gonna kiss me and make it up to me?”

John leans down to kiss you, then he quickly looks over to his left and shoots Tess when she runs past.

“Hey! No fair!” she whines, and you look at John as you laugh.

You shrug a little, “Won’t lie, that was a kinda hot.”

You look down at your vest and see that you only have two red dots left on it, and you look up at John and see he only has two as well. You both hold each other’s gazes, then you immediately shoot him again just as he shoots you.

“One left, peach.” he whispers as he leans down to kiss you, sucking on your bottom lip a little as you lean in for more, but he stops and starts to walk away.

“I’ll find you again.” you say, and John scoffs as he backs away from you, lifting his laser gun up. “You wouldn’t. I’m your wife!”

John smirks as he stops walking, and you look down to see the last red dot has gone out.

“You ass!”

“Time to strap some skates on you.” you laugh against his lips, and John jokingly groans. “Don’t worry, no one is going to look at you and laugh. Everyone’s worried about themselves.”

“I just don’t want to embarrass myself in front of you.”

You tilt your head slightly as you smile, “Trust me, you’re not going to. I fell earlier, and I wasn’t embarrassed -- I just laughed!”

“I know, but this is really out of my comfort zone, I can’t lie.” he says, and you nod as you hold his hands. “I love you, I really do. And that is why I am going to get some skates and pray like hell I don’t fall on my face.”

Smiling as you look up at John, you stand on your tiptoes and kiss him as he wraps his arms around you, “I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Nah, it’ll be fun.” he says, then he looks over when Benji runs up with his skates, and he looks up at John in hopes that he’ll help him tie them.

“Uncle John, are you gonna come with?”

John nods as he ties Benji’s skates, “Yup, just gotta get my skates.”

Tess and Jimmy are back skating around the rink, and you look over at John before you get your skates. You get your skates on and smile when you see Benji holding tight to John’s hand as he gets a pair of skates. Amanda says something to make John laugh, and he shakes his head as he smiles, putting on his skates. You watch as the two talk, and she reaches over to touch his face.

Amanda is like a little sister to John, and you absolutely adore her. You really look forward to spending more time with her once you have a baby of your own. You know how often Tess and her hang out now since they both have kids, and you totally want in on that. In fact you cried to John the other night because you called Tess to hang out but she was out with Amanda. It’s safe to say you were a little jealous.

You smile at John when he looks up at you, then he waves you over to him. You quickly make your way back over to John, and you reach for his hands, pulling him to stand up as he wobbles in place a little. He looks so incredibly out of place in this setting, but it warms your heart how he really wants to do this. His long limbs looks so funny as he wobbles in place, and you put your hands out to keep him from falling.

“You got this, John!” Amanda laughs.

“Go slow.” John whispers as you start to skate backwards with him to the opening of the rink, then he holds onto the wall and stands up straight. He’s so much taller now that he’s wearing skates, and you strain your neck almost to look up at him. “Okay, I think I can do this.”

You keep your hands out in front of John just in case he falls, but if he does, you’re going down with him. Jimmy skates past and slaps John on his back, causing John to teeter a little, and Jimmy grimaces. You reach out to hold John, but his skate slips from under him, and he holds tight to you with his hand on the back of your head as you both tumble to the floor. You’re both laughing hysterically as people skate past, and you check to make sure he didn’t get hurt.

“You’re good?”

John laughs as he nods his head, “I’m good, you?”

“I’m good.” you get up from the floor and help John back up. “You’re doing great, babe.”

Holding tight to your hands, John starts to gain more confidence as you pull him with you, and you smile at him when he inhales deeply, standing up with even more confidence. You dance to the music and sing along to the song while John watches, and you pull him a little closer to kiss you.

“How are you so good at this?”

You intertwine your fingers with John’s and continue skating backwards, “Tess and I went to the skating rink all the time when we were younger. It was the hangout spot for us. Mom would give us each 10 bucks and tell us to come home for dinner. We’d spend the entire afternoon there, but the best was on weekends because all the cool older kids were there. They taught us some cool moves.”

“Did you go on a date to a roller rink in highschool?”

“You know what? I did!” you laugh as you look over your shoulder a little to make sure you’re not going to run over Benji, then you look back at John, “Though my date wasn’t this fun, and definitely not as cute as you.”

John scoffs, holding tighter to your hand as you start to round the corner a little, “But he was a better skater than me.”

“Actually he wouldn’t even put on a pair. He was so boring, yuck. Never went on a date with him again.” you say, then you shrug, “Anyway, I was a junior in highschool when they closed on local roller rink, so we found one that was about 30 minutes away that had these special nights, just like this, and we’d have a blast.”

“This is fun.” John whispers in your ear, and you lean back and smile at him. “I love you.”

“I love you!” you say, then you cup your hands in front of your mouth and yell, “I love this man!”

Sliding his hands into your back pockets, John pulls you closer and whispers in your ear, “Can’t wait to get you home. I’m dying to taste you, hear you scream my name.”

“Well, this is your birthday party, and whatever the birthday boy wants, he should get.” you say, cocking up your eyebrow.

John leans over the wall and looks at you, “Yeah?”

“Yup,” you hop onto the wall and scoot in front of John as you lean closer to his ear, “Can’t wait to get home either, then I can feel you in my mouth, taste you on my tongue…”

John bites his lip as you lean back to look at him, then he looks down at his watch, “Damn, it’s getting late.”

“Shut up!” you laugh as you hop off the way and skate away from John.

You’re holding tight to the tie dye teddy bear that John won for you as he drives home, and you melt when you see the sweetest smile on his face. He won the bear for you after he actually skated with you for a bit, then he pulled you back to the arcade because there was photo booth calling your names. Today went exactly as planned, except for falling several times with John, but that’s okay! He laughed it off and stood back up, and he was determined to get around the rink once without falling.

“I had a lot of fun today, mouse.” he says, glancing over at you, “Thank you for today.”

You reach over and place your hand on his thigh, “You’re welcome. Thanks for indulging me. I know you were so out of your element, and it warmed my heart how you badly you tried to skate, but sweetheart, you’re awful.”

John laughs loudly, nodding his head, “Skating is not my forte.”

“I could see that.” you chuckle, then you lean up to kiss John’s cheek before he pulls into your driveway, “I can already tell I’m covered in bruises from falling so much.”

Groaning a little, you get out of the car and rotate your neck as you rub a sore spot on your lower back, then you look at John as he rubs his left knee before he gets out of the car -- it’s always the left knee.

“Knee bothering you?” you ask, and John nods. “Well, look, I got a present for you--”

John shakes his head, “No.”

“It’s your birthday! Sort of! Just let me give you a birthday present, Jonathan!”

John is still giving you a disapproving look as he unlocks the door, and you roll your eyes as you start to take off your jacket.

“Christmas is only a few weeks away.” John walks over and turns on the Christmas lights, then he gestures to the tree, “There’s already gifts under it for me.”

“Oh, like you don’t have gifts around the house in your sneaky little spots.” you laugh, walking back over to him, “Just let me give you my present.”

Taking a deep breath, John exhales and sits down on the couch, groaning quietly when he bends his knee, “Fine.”

You clap your hands as you walk over to the tree and find the gift you tucked behind it, then you sit down on the couch next to John and hand him the bag with a huge smile on your face.

“There’s a few things in there.”

John leans over to kiss your cheek as you watch him, then he turns his focus to his gift. He reaches into the bag and pulls out something, pulling back the tissue paper to see it, and you watch the smile spread across his face when he sees a wedding picture of the two of you.

“Oh, wow…” John smiles as he looks at you, and you shrug as you grow nervous.

“Look, I know this isn’t something you’d usually get your husband, but we just bought the record player last month, and I had the idea of doing this for our anniversary, but…” you lean over and pull out the vinyl record, “It’s the song we had our first dance to.”

John wraps his arm around you and smiles, “I love it. I’d say we should put it on and dance, but I think it’s safe to assume we’re both very sore.”

“Yeah,” you nod, then you gesture to the bag so he can look at what else you got him.

No matter what the occasion, you always make sure to put a bag of M&Ms in it for John, and he’s always so excited about it. He reaches in and pulls out a small box, then he opens it to remove a nice new leather wallet.

“I noticed your old one is getting a little worn out.”

John chuckles, “I actually was just thinking about buying a new one -- or hinting at it for Christmas. You know me so well, peach. What else do we got in here?”

You watch John closely as he reaches his hand back into the bag, and you smirk when he pulls out a bottle of massage oil. He looks it over as he reads the box, then he looks up at you, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“Kinda perfect since we’re both so sore,” you say, taking it from John to read the side, “The oil blend promotes deep tissue softness while also providing a natural slip. Creating passionate sex and massage ability.”

John laughs as he looks at you, “Say that one part again, about the slip.”

Leaning closer to John, you brush your lips against his and smirk as you whisper, “A natural…slip.”

The two of you maintain eye contact as you slide your hand up his thigh to the bulge in his pants, and you stand up from the couch, groaning loudly from the pain in your back while John puts his hand on his knee and winces.

“Baby, you know I love you. You know how much I want you…” John says, and you start to nod in agreement before he even says anything. “I want you all the time, every single day, but I don’t think my body is going to allow it tonight.”

“You and me both.” you laugh as you look at John, “Why don’t we just go lay down?”

John winces as he stands up from the couch, then the two of you shuffle off slowly to the stairs, dreading the fact that you’ll have to get up them somehow. You both groan and wince as you get up, and you start to laugh as you reach your room.

“So, this is what it’s going to be like when we’re old, huh?” you slowly make your way over to your side of the bed and start to undress.

“Well, I’m already old, so, yeah…” he jokes, then he furrows his brow when he sees the large bruise on your thigh. He quickly pulls his clothes and gets into bed, grabbing the lotion off your nightstand so he can rub your back. “Lay down.”

You toss your clothes in the hamper near the dresser, then you look down at Bleu as he lays at the foot of the bed, “We’ll have to give him extra t-r-e-a-t-s tomorrow since he didn’t get to go for a w-a-l-k tonight.”

“He’ll be fine. Come here,” John pats the bed and smiles as you lay down on your stomach, and you close your eyes when you feel the cold lotion on your bare back. “Thank you again for today. I love you so much.”

Opening your eyes, you look up at John and smile, then you move closer to lay against his chest, “I wanted to do something nice for you, and I promise next year that we’ll do something on your actual birthday.”

“I’m not worried about it, but I am happy to know I have such a thoughtful wife.” he whispers, moving your hair away from your face. “You looked so cute skating out there. I’m still amazed by the fact that you were so good.”

You jokingly brush your hair off your shoulder, “Well, ya know.”

“You looked sexy.” John laughs, then he leans closer, “I’ll admit it, I’d love to go there again some time. I liked the laser tag.”

“When we have kids, huh?” you say, and John nods. “Sweet little family day there, that’d be fun. Speaking of kids, that’s part of the reason why I wanted to do this now. I’m still on track for my ovulation day, which is only a few days away -- so fucking exciting. But I was thinking, if we waited until spring to go do this, I might be pregnant by then, or who knows, I could be pregnant on your birthday. So, really, this was just me being selfish.”

John chuckles as he leans down to kiss you, “Not at all. I had so much fun with you today, with our family too.”

You bite your cheek as you begin to tear up, “I love when you refer to them as your family. I’m sorry, it’s just so cute. They all love you so much, I hope you know that. As soon as I called Amanda and told her, she was immediately on board, same with Aurelio. They adore you, baby.”

“They love you too.” he says softly, leaning down to kiss you again, “Benji has a huge crush on you, by the way. He told me that he thought you were very pretty.”

Letting out a small laugh, you look up at John, “So sweet.”

“Amanda kept asking if I thought you were pregnant yet -- not that she thought you looked pregnant or anything. She just knows how much we want to be.”

You smile as you reach over for your phone to look at your ovulation app, then you turn it to show John, “Just a few more days, Wick, and you and I could be makin’ a baby.”

“I can’t wait.” John smiles softly, then he presses a kiss to your forehead as you snuggle into his arms, “I can’t wait.”

** i updated my tag list recently, so if i missed you, just let me know! make sure you have tagging turned on!

#john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick imagine #fic: hold my hand #i want to live inside this chapter #like they're all just having fun and i want that #i can't even explain how excited i am for these next few chapters #anyway i hope u all enjoy!#:))))) love yall

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movedto-erodasghosts · 5 years ago

Text

the moment | timothée chalamet

moved blogs - @erodasghosts

practically a spinoff thing for perfidy by @peeterparkr and reading perfidy would help make this better. To read as a stand alone fic, just picture “Tom” as someone y/n used to like but he hurt her.

Description: where we get to see a little bit of y/n’s relationship with timmy

Word count: ~4,600

Warnings: none

A/N: the rain part is heavily inspired by chapter 8 of perfidy where y/n describes when she knew she loved timmy. Also heavily inspired by Nancy’s moodboard of dates with Timmy. I loved writing this so much, I hope you enjoy!

masterlist

---

“Okay, okay,” you rested your hands on the table, “tell the story again?”

Timmy let out a soft chuckle, “Really? Didn’t you save the video?”

“I just… need to hear you say it in person.” You smiled widely, “It’s too cute.”

He couldn’t help but smile with you. Something told him you just wanted to hear the story again just to tease him, no harm to come of it though. He couldn’t blame you, he had even teased himself about it and found it rather silly.

“Alright,” he sighed dramatically. “So, I found this toad the other day, right? And it was missing a leg. So… I watched it for a bit before going back inside and going to bed.”

Timmy was a dramatic story teller, it was rather entertaining. The theatrics of it didn’t always come from the words he used to describe stories but the amount of time he spent telling it. To end it short would only leave people with questions. To draw it out longer would give people more to consider. He made stories last regardless, giving people opportunities for questions and any random thoughts. It seemed to be a way of letting everyone feel more involved so it wasn’t so one sided. He didn’t like to focus on himself too much, he was much too interested in everyone else.

“Oh, that’s it?” You raised a brow, “ It didn’t happen to be two in the morning? And you didn’t happen to cry because the toad was missing a leg?”

“Well,” Timmy pursed his lips as if to consider your words, “now that you mention it… I might’ve been a little tired when I found it, and possibly a small bit upset when I found it was missing a leg.”

“Small bit? Tim, you cried.” You brushed some hair behind your ear, “Like, actually cried. I saved the video!”

Quickly, you pulled out your phone to watch the video of a teary eyed Timotheé. Everything about the video was chaotic, it only made the story better.

“Okay, I— this is so bright— I just found this toad,” he held it to the camera, “I was like, ‘Oh! Neat! A little toad!’ But then, then I picked it up and…” He nearly choked on his words, the camera moving sloppily and never focusing on just one thing. “It only has three legs! Y/n, y/n it only has three legs. Are you seeing this?” He held it to the camera again, “Imagine how much harder traveling must be for him. The poor thing.”

“Do we have to finish watching this?” Timmy was grinning boyishly, “I mean, you’ve already seen it and I lived it.”

You gently hushed him before looking back to your phone screen, “Shh, shh, it’s getting to the best part.”

He gave a melodramatic frown to the toad before looking at the camera again, “I just, hmph… I had to show him to you, I love him so much. Okay, say goodbye to him, wish him the best.” He stroked it with his thumb, showing the camera one last time before setting it down and waving goodbye. “I know you’ll live a good life. I’ll miss you, visit anytime.” The camera turned back to Timmy who now had tears swelling, “Can you believe it? Such a darling boy… I hope he gets to be happy.” With a sniffle, he dried his eyes. “Okay, that’s all… you just had to see him. I’m sorry, it’s late and I’m crying…” he laughed and shook his head. “I hope he lives a happy life… well, goodnight… or morning?”

The video ended with Timmy lazily struggling to stop the recording, his eyes red and his hair a complete mess. You couldn’t help but hold the biggest smile and he did his best to hide behind his curls. His fingers curled into his palm, resting his hand on his chin and elbow on the table. Part of him was slightly embarrassed, only because the video was played in public. He couldn’t care less about the fact that you saw him practically breaking down over a toad, he only cared that strangers heard him breaking down over a toad.

“I think…” you began, “Well, you know how you asked me when I knew I loved you? I think that when I first saw that video… I just, I knew, you know?”

He held back a laugh, “Ah, that’s the moment, hmm?”

“Yes! Absolutely, one thousand times yes! It was just mind blowing,” you exaggerated with your hands. “I had never seen you like that before and, honestly, it just really pushed me to my realization.”

“It’s fair, really. I mean, had you sent a similar video I have no doubts that it would be the moment I knew I loved you.” He took a sip of his tea, keeping his eyes on you.

Timmy was playing along with your game, it was back and forth teasing. He couldn’t help but wonder, though, when had you fallen in love with him? He had asked before but you seemed to avoid the question and he didn’t push. Maybe you hadn’t yet, and that was okay. It did make him worry no matter how much he reminded himself it wasn’t like you would fall in love in the exact same moment as if your lives were a book. But still, at times his mind would wander.

“When was it?” He licked his lips and placed his cup back down.

“Hmm?” You fiddled with your pastry, avoiding eye contact.

He rephrased, “When was it you actually fell in love with me?”

Crumbs fell to your plate, it gave you something else to look at rather than him. He never intended to make you nervous, so he soon regretted ever asking. The thing was, there didn’t seem to be a defining moment yet. There were so many things about Timmy that made you stop and think about how amazing of a person he is. From his gentle words to his grand gestures. You could say that to him, but it didn’t sound real. If you were going to answer him you wanted it to be something more concrete.

Part of him craved an answer. He wanted you to take your time, for your relationship to take its time too. And Timmy wasn’t someone that needed constant validation but he couldn’t help himself at times. He knew you cared for him, that’s what mattered most. Really, he wasn’t sure why he was so insistent about knowing. Well, maybe…

He tried his hardest not to be the jealous type, and normally he wasn’t. He trusted you and the two of you were always able to openly talk about things, but… something about your relationship with Tom made him second guess himself. He couldn’t even figure out why, other than it was painfully obvious that Tom liked you and you couldn’t even see it. The issue was, Timmy knew that the “enemies” thing was an act, even if it was just one sided. He knew that you didn’t like Tom, at least not anymore, but a part of him couldn’t help but wonder if you did.

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted his own thoughts. “You don’t have to answer that.”

You awkwardly kept your eyes on the crumbs now scattered around your plate. If only he knew, and if only you could tell him.

“If you keep doing that you’ll hardly have any left.” He smoothly took the pastry from your hands and bit into it. “Hmm, it’s delicious.”

Letting out a small laugh you straighten your posture, “You’ve got a little filling on you.”

“Oh?” He sat it back on your plate, “Could you get it for me?”

You nodded, sitting on the edge of your chair to get closer. Slowly, you reached across and lightly wiped the filling off with your thumb. Timmy’s smile never seemed to fade away. He was always so warm and gentle, even in the toad video from two in the morning. It was like with him any moment could be put on pause to just sit back and admire it for what it was. With him it was like you could breathe. Like, even if it was temporary, the air around him wasn’t so stuffy and thick, but it was clear.

Your hand seemed to linger, not that he minded. He simply took your hand in his own, pressing a kiss to your palm before resting both of your hands on the table. His thumb faintly skimmed over your knuckles as he watched the wheels turning your head.

He tilted his head slightly, “Something on your mind?”

“I always have something on my mind, you know.” You timidly pulled your hand away to put your phone back in your bag, “We should probably get going so we can beat the rain.”

Tim cleared his throat and began gathering his things. “I wouldn’t mind getting stuck in it, sometimes the rain is nice to just step into.”

His words brought another tender smile to your face. Most people would be canceling the day’s plans because of a chance of rain later that evening, Timmy just pushed through and even hoped the rain may come earlier than planned. You liked the rain too and didn’t mind going out in it from time to time, it was relaxing in ways.

“I’d rather be home when it starts, I think.” You held his hand as you both started your way home.

He nodded, “I can understand that. But, would it be so bad if it started before then? It would be like a movie scene.”

The thought made you grin, he was right. One of the biggest clichés in the book and you nearly forgot. Part of you longed for a movie moment like that, you had them all the time with Timmy though. It was nice, you wouldn’t lie. At the same time, a huge part of you just wanted to smoothly make it home, no movie moment.

“I guess that part of it would be sweet. Almost like a frozen moment in time.” You moved closer to him, “I’d take any chance to be frozen in time with you.”

His lips curled into a smile at your cheesy words before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “Maybe we’ll get the chance again.”

“Hmm, I wish. I’m not exactly dressed for a downpour though, especially not with my camera out,” you held it up.

Timmy took a quick glance, you were right. Your sneakers would be soaked within moments and your jacket wouldn’t keep you warm for long. Timmy wasn’t dressed much better though, having on sneakers as well, and jeans that would easily stick to him when wet. He could stand it though, it wasn’t a bother, and he would gladly help to keep you warm with his own body heat.

He recalled that you loved walks in the rain, no matter how soaking wet you may get. But lately something was off, he could tell. He kept brushing it off, chalking it up to overthinking. Of course you didn’t want to get caught in the rain that day, it would be freezing and your camera could get ruined. Normally, though, you still wouldn’t mind. It was like you were running from something.

“We can put the camera in your purse, it should help keep it dry. As for the rest, well,” he let your hand go before wrapping an arm around your waist, “I’ll help keep you warm as we make our way home.”

You chuckled, leaning into his side. “In that case, I look forward to the rain,” you half joked.

“See?” He smiled, “Simple solutions. I’m glad to be of assistance.”

Once again, he let go of you to give a dramatic bow. You laughed, watching as his hair fell in front of his face. He even tucked one foot behind the other, adding to the drama of it. He did what he could to make the relationship feel the same, to help you find the beauty in small moments like that again rather than pain.

“Ah, thank you for your kindness,” you gently bowed back towards him.

“Of course, of course. Anytime, you know.” He took your hand in his, gently swinging it as you continued the walk.

You walked in silence for a few moments, just taking in the busy sounds from around you. There were fewer people out that day, due to the expected rain, which gave plenty of new picture opportunities. You loved pictures full of life, whether it was crowds of people or a field of flowers. But, you loved pictures that seemed empty, or even more serene in a way, too. Overall, you just enjoyed taking pictures of life. From the most crazy and crowded moments to the most calm and seemingly boring moments.

“Let’s get a picture here really quick?” You stopped at a shop window, gently tugging Timmy’s sleeve to get his attention.

He stepped back and stood beside you, “Of course, it’s a nice opportunity.”

You held the camera up, ready for the picture. Timmy put one hand in his pocket, the other rested on the small of your back. He placed a kiss on the top of your head, freezing there for a moment as you took the picture. Instinctively his eyes shut too, allowing him to easily slip into his thoughts for a moment.

He loved that you took pictures of moments like this, he knew it meant a lot to you. To be able to hold a memory in such a way was incredible and it helped to better remember. It wasn’t just a picture, it was a memory. Even if it was only a memory of going for tea that morning, it was a memory. One he knew that you’d both find yourselves dwelling on.

You both seemed to find such pleasure in the smallest of things. The rain, tea, toads, anything. Unlike Tom, who seemed to have to make everything into some huge attention grabber for it to be even slightly memorable. Timmy couldn’t stand that, it was like it was a show for everyone else. Timmy didn’t need to prove to anyone that he loved you with grand schemes, what mattered to him was the little things that you shared between the two of you.

“Alright, got it,” you smiled.

His eyes opened back up, snapping himself out of his mind. “You’ve gotten a lot of good pictures today.”

“With most of them having you as the subject, I’d agree,” you grinned up at him.

“It’s your talent with photography that makes them so good,” he chuckled.

“Maybe, but you definitely add to it’s perfection.” You kissed his cheek, “Even if I know you cried about a frog at two in the morning.”

“A toad,” he corrected. “And what kind of monster wouldn’t cry about a toad at two in the morning?”

“It’s just a toad,” you began walking again with a small smile on your lips.

“Just a toad?” He joined your side again, “I don’t think so! He was special, not just like any other toad.”

You teased, “You’re actually defending a toad?”

“Maybe I am. You were attacking him.” He played along, lightly nudging your shoulder.

Your hands went into the air in a mock defense, “My greatest apologies for attacking him. I hope I didn’t offend too greatly?”

“Hmm,” he raised a brow and stroked his chin as if he was deeply thinking. “No, nothing you can’t make up for.”

“Make up for? In what way?” You were already grinning as you looked up at him.

His arm made its way back around your waist, his fingers landing on your hip. Your pace slowed a bit, only slightly, as you synced your steps.

“Dance with me when it rains,” he said simply. “It would make up for it a thousand times over.”

You chuckled, “I’d dance with you anytime, Tim.”

He inhaled, holding his breath for a moment before saying, “I know, but I’ll take every chance I get.”

“I would too, plus it’s a simple enough way to pay you back for the frog insult.”

“Toad.”

“Right,” you laughed, “toad.”

He hoped it would rain. Before he simply looked forward to the rain because he was expecting it anyway, now he was waiting for the rain as if he relied on it. He needed the chance to be with you closer, longer. He needed a reason for the day to be memorable for more than just tea. Timmy knew you’d adore that day for the rest of time, even if it ended in this very moment, but it was like he needed to be sure of it.

Lord, he was becoming Tom. Couldn’t the day be lovable enough as it was? It already was. There wasn’t a moment through the day with you where he didn’t seem to have butterflies in his stomach, other than moments like this where he couldn't help but think of Tom.

No. No more Tom. Timmy was still far from Tom. His gestures, like wanting to dance in the rain, was for just the two of you, not anyone else. Tom needed everyone else’s approval, Timmy was only focused about the happiness between the two of you.

“Guess you should get ready to dance,” you spoke up, quickly tucking your camera into your purse.

Timmy glanced at your movements before looking up to the sky, seeing how dark it had suddenly gotten. He couldn’t help but smile as he saw the rain approaching.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he held both of your hands and pulled you to a wider section of sidewalk.

He wasted no time, beginning to dance with you the moment a raindrop fell. You wouldn’t deny it, even though you were previously dreading the coming rain you were happy it was there now. You had forgotten how much you missed it. You missed that moment in time where it was truly like nothing else mattered. It was just you and Timmy, frozen in your own movie moment.

It was clear that the wheels in his head were finally taking a pause, he too was just enjoying that moment. Normally, Timmy wasn’t one to get lost in his thoughts so frequently. He spoke openly, sharing his thoughts so he could talk through them with someone. You understood, even admired it, but there was a part of you that wanted to hold certain things to yourself. There were some things you wanted to process on your own before even thinking about sharing with anyone else, and there were other things that you just wanted to ignore forever. Timmy knew this and he never wanted to make you feel pressured to talk but he just couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to share, to just talk through your pain and memories. But, he respected it.

You wanted to share, truly, but you weren’t even sure where to begin, and, you didn’t even know if you actually could bring yourself to talk. Timmy swore that there were things between you and Tom that were unsettled that you needed to talk about, and maybe he was right, but you couldn’t see it. You felt like you were stuck in a spot that had no way out. It felt like you had no words to share, and, while no one was trying to make you feel that way, you felt pressured to talk. It felt like Timmy deserved more. Like he should have an explanation, like he should get to know his moment, the one where you knew you loved him.

You had no answers to offer anyone though, not even yourself. You didn’t know why people were expecting you to explain so much. Why did people need you to explain why you never liked Tom? Why it didn’t matter if Tom ever liked you or still did-- though you would assure people he didn’t-- because you were over him. Or were you even over that?

Tom was cruel. He was careless, inconsiderate. And, sure, you had a crush on him for a while, but that’s all it was. That’s all it could be. He hurt you, how could you possibly still like him? And, you loved Timmy so none of that even mattered anymore.

Timmy.

You knew you loved him, with or without that defining moment. Maybe this could be it. The rain, his fingers intertwined with yours as you danced and laughed. No, this wasn’t it. It couldn’t be, not when you had let your mind wander so far. So much for staying frozen in the moment.

Still, you danced with him and acted as if you were still focused on only that. His mind may have stopped for a break but it seemed yours had just kept going. He noticed, you were like an open book at times with him. But, you were both deciding to push it aside.

“When was the last time we even got to do this?” You laughed as he dramatically spun you.

He smiled, “Too long, I guess we’ve just been waiting for the rain.”

“I’m glad it’s finally here, even if I’m freezing cold.” You waddled closer to him, wrapping your arms around him and continuing to sway inplace together.

“Hmm,” he rested his chin atop your head and curled his arms around you, “I did say I’d keep you warm.”

You closed your eyes, resting a cheek on his chest and breathing in. The metallic and earthy smell of him brought an instant peace. You could feel and hear his heart beating slowly, calmly. Heat was somehow radiating off of him still, even through his cold and wet clothing. It was nice, just his presence and being was calming and felt nice to be around. It was now that you were really being pulled into the movie moment, your mind now filled with nothing but thoughts of how being around Timmy was like going out after a storm.

It was like walking out, feeling the sun hit your skin as it was slowly beginning to warm everything up again after a downpour. Like inhaling that musty yet sweet smell of the ground as it was soaking up the rain, reclaiming it after it’s fall and working with it to help return to earth. The smell wasn’t just coming from the rain either, it was just how Timmy was, and you couldn’t get enough of it. It was the serenity after the storm that people so rarely talk about.

“Can’t we stay this way forever?” His words were muffled, mixing with the sounds of raindrops seemingly falling harder.

You were still slightly swaying together, earning looks from those rushing by you in a hurry to escape the rain. Neither of you could be bothered by it though, you were in your own world. Admittedly, it probably wasn’t such a good idea to be staying out in the cold rain. The two of you couldn’t care less in the moment, though you’d probably regret it later, because it was like you had only been standing there for a minute, but at the same time it was as if it had been an hour even if it was only about ten minutes.

The rain was coming down harder and harder, preventing you from being able to stay out much longer.

“I think it’s time to stop dancing,” you smiled, looking around for any form of shelter you could find. “Look, that shop has a shade we can use.”

Without hesitation you ran off, ready to get out of the downpour. You hadn’t noticed at first but he hadn’t followed, only a few steps away from where you were both standing just a second before. He was slowly making his way over, not seeming too focused on actually making it though.

“Timmy,” you called out, “what’re you doing? C’mon, it’s too heavy.”

And then you heard, music playing from someone’s balcony. It was gentle and steady, sounding almost like a recording but it was clear that it wasn’t. Timmy’s eyes were locked onto that balcony, right above the shop you were using for coverage. His shoulders were relaxed, his head slightly tilted as he listened. He was too focused on the music to care about how hard the rain was or how cool the air was turning. You were focused on watching him, slightly taken aback by his actions.

“Come see,” he beamed, “it’s so peaceful.”

You were grinning, watching as he smiled ear to ear, being so happy watching them. His gaze went back to them, eyes twinkling in the light shining from their apartment. His curls were dripping, messily scattered about and some sticking to his face. He looked like he was in a state of tranquility, completely free of all the worries he had been dealing with. It was soothing enough on its own just to see him so, it was like he was able to share with you how it made him feel simply through one look.

Taking your camera out, you took a picture of him as he looked up to the balcony, wanting to keep that moment with you forever because that was it. A few weeks ago when Timmy had asked you when you fell in love with him you gave some silly response, too anxious to think about it. He brought it up again earlier that day, and you still couldn’t give an answer. Now the answer was standing right infront of you, finally it was something worthy of sharing, not just something random and laughable.

You put the camera back in your back, quickly joining his side. “It sounds beautiful.”

“Doesn’t it?” He leaned into your shoulder, “The rain just adds to it all.”

“It does,” you agreed, wrapping around his arm. “But, we should go before we get sick.”

Timmy laughed as he slowly pulled himself out of his trance, “That sounds like a good idea.”

With looped arms you began your walk home once more, feeling somewhat more lifted by what had happened. All it took was that one moment, that moment of proof and reassurance. You were reminded of what a kind and gentle person Timmy was, not that you had ever forgotten. He did his best to enjoy life for what it was, cherishing every moment he could no matter how small. You tried your best to do the same but found yourself slipping at times, it was a reminder to enjoy things more. To take that step back and make yourself the main character of a story, even if it was temporary. Timmy helped you to do that.

He loved to see you so relaxed again, free from your mind. You were both too wrapped up in too many what-ifs and were worrying about things that were out of your control. The rain was what you needed, to help pull you back to earth. It was that moment, where he was able to put life on pause and you were able to come back into that serenity.

The awkward tension from the cafe was gone, truly gone, not just shoved aside. Timmy wasn’t craving to know the exact moment you knew you loved him because all that mattered to him was that you did. You didn’t feel like you owe anyone an explanation for anything anymore, whatever you had with Tom was in the past now and you knew Timmy’s moment. It really wasn’t a permanent solution, these feelings, at least the untouched one’s about Tom, would likely arise again. But, at least for that moment, you could go without confronting them.

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