#always remember to flip your canvas guys

[frequentderealizationcore]

Feanor in all his murder elf glory.

[drak3n]

TATTOO ARTIST/PIERCER!CHOSO

CONTENT WARNINGS: unestablished relationship, smut, public sex, mentions of body modifications, cunnilingus, implied blowjob at the end, choso has a prince albert-, tongue- and a vertical eyebrow piercing

sena’s note: i know there’s a lot of tattoo artist choso already but i folded — anywaysss up next is my man gojo 🖤

MINI-SERIES MASTERLIST

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who was very well-known for his talent despite being so young; who was always pretty gifted with his hands and used peoples’ skin like a canvas, gracing it with the prettiest designs, simple and small, or detailed and large

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who shared a studio with a few fellow tattoo artists and piercers, but had a goal of having his own studio someday

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who had just finished a 5h back piece on his last client and walked towards the front desk to retrieve his cigarettes and take a break, just for his hooded, brown eyes to set on you

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who saw you standing next to your friend and encouraging her to hand in her data sheet for her tattoo, and who watched as your friend was immediately guided into one of the rooms by a tattoo artist, just to leave you all by yourself

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who came back from smoking minutes later to see you sitting on one of the leather seats, flipping through pages of the shop’s magazine that showed many different designs of tattoos, and also piercings

“you want to get anything done?”

nearly flinching at the cold voice sounding a couple of feet away from you, your eyes met choso’s, who was leaning against the wall, revealing fully tattooed forearms through his loose-fitted t-shirt. he looked very… unique, to say the least.

“oh, no, i’m just waiting for a friend,” you smiled kindly, “she’s getting tattooed right now. think it’ll take some time.” you felt guilty that you stared at the man like he was some kind of alien. his features were just really captivating, the plethora of tattoos peeking out from his short sleeves and from the collar leaving little to the imagination that they continued even beneath that shirt.

his eyebrow tattoo shone under the light, but when he opened his mouth, your jaw nearly dropped at the sight of a tongue piercing.

you suddenly remembered what they said about guys with tongue piercings, and felt deeply ashamed about getting such thoughts about a hot stranger.

“come,” he invited you towards the room he usually worked in, “you’ll get bored here. you’ll get a piercing on the house.” he didn’t know why he offered that. maybe, just maybe it was because he didn’t want the other piercers and tattoo artists to charm you first.

at the end of the day, you left the studio with your freshly tattooed friend and a pierced nose.

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who hoped you’d walk in again, and whose shoulders nearly slumped in disappointment upon seeing your friend coming in by herself a few days later to get her tattoo checked, without your company

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who — totally on accident — saw that the studio had been tagged in multiple stories on instagram, one of which being yours, a spontaneous picture taken of your side profile that showcased the gem he had pierced into your cute nose

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who absolutely didn’t follow you after that, just to see mere minutes later that you did, and before he could stop himself, he followed you back

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who really wasn’t the best texter, which left you wondering if you should even try and talk to him at all; whose eyes went wide in surprise when you waltzed into the studio to get your thigh tattooed weeks later

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who showed you that same day how it felt to get eaten out by someone with a tongue piercing

“c—choso… fuck— what if someone—”

your hand clamped in front of your mouth to stifle a moan threatening to force itself out when the ball of metal on choso’s wet muscle bumped against your bundle of nerves. you were seated on the couch he’d previously tatted on, both of your bare legs thrown over his shoulders as he feasted on your delicious pussy.

“let them,” he spoke gruffly into your cunt as his tattooed hands dug into the underside of your thighs. he didn’t hide the smirk displaying on his lips at the way you drooled from the sensation of his piercing coolly gliding against your wet pussy lips.

“c’mon. use your words. i’ll let you cum if you do.”

“pleasepleaseplease let me cum… please choso.”

“cute. you want to feel what the piercing on my dick feels like?”

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who totally did make you beg on his thick dick adorned with a shiny prince albert piercing, and who couldn’t even be mad at you when you flashed him a tongue piercing you had gotten at another studio to surprise and make him see stars just like he’d done for you

[thewhumpcaretaker]

ok ok ok your sub! john drabbles actually gave me the best idea. tattoo artist x john wick

tattoo artist reader is there to comfort him and make sure he’s okay and doesn’t pass out esp if it’s his first tattoo.

also writing this made me remember a fic i read that’s not finished but breaks my heart

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21060659/chapters/50100092 if you want to read 🖤

Thank you so much for this ask!! I've been thinking about this idea for a while actually. There was another ask about this a long time ago, maybe on my JohnWickCaretaker blog? I can't find that one, but if that was also you, then thanks a second time. Also, yaaaaay, fic recommendation! 🖤

John Wick x Tattoo Artist Reader (Gender Neutral)

Author's Note: John is a little younger in this one (I’m picturing him being 18-19), so he’s not as mature. He’s even more shy and gets defensive more easily. Also, I'm not a tattoo artist, and haven't gotten any tattoos, so this is just based on what I've read about it!

CW: forced to get a tattoo, tattoo needle, crying, reader swears frequently, bittersweet ending

Image sources: 1 2 3

“You have time for a walk-in?”

You didn’t even hear this guy open the door. Once you’re done being startled, you notice…him. You’re not supposed to let yourself think this way about clients, but shit, he’s cute. He looks soft. Mostly clean shaven, with a thin, elegant face (maybe it’s the high cheekbones), topped off with a mop of dark hair. And probably inexperienced, based on how nervous he looks. A little part of you wonders how this is going to go for him. “You’re in luck. What’s your name?”

No answer.

“Can I see an ID?”

He hesitates awkwardly. “I’m coming from Mrs. Petrov.”

Oh. So he’s one of these. You doubt that’s her real name, but Mrs. Petrov sailed into your shop one day offering to double the usual price if you’d keep quiet and ask no questions, and you sure need the money. Your skin is crawling a bit but you take a deep breath and get into it.

“Okay, good enough for me. What design are we looking at?”

He hands you a paper. It’s the same one you’ve seen half a dozen times: hands touching in prayer over an image of the cross. Guys come to you for this tat again and again, “from Mrs. Petrov.” One told you it was a mark of his acting troupe, another said it was a family crest, another a symbol of his church. They’re probably all lying, but you know better than to call them on it – or to turn any of them away. You’re pretty sure it’s a mob thing. It breaks your heart a little bit to think he’s caught up in all that. He doesn’t look the part. But then, you also know better than to judge by looks alone.

You gesture to the chair. “Settle in, face down. It’s better if we have your shirt off.” He’s way too delicious underneath it. The perfect canvas...shhhhh stop it. You’re a professional and he’s…god knows what. “This will take about four or five hours. Is that okay?”

He nods.

“Silent type I guess?”

That gets a faint smile before he lays across the bench, chin resting on folded arms. You flip the Open sign to Closed, pull on your gloves, and start prepping tools. You turn on the radio to 80s rock, filling the silence between you - though it doesn’t feel like a stressful silence, surprisingly. Both of you know how odd this situation is and you’re both just trying to get through it. There’s a camaraderie to that.

You glance down at the design in your hand and whistle. It’s pretty big, taking up most of the center of his back, between the scapulas. “Is this your first tattoo?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, well I’ll be real with you: this is going right over the spine, so you can expect some pain. Nothing that’ll kill you, just…not super pleasant. So I’ll check in from time to time, see how you’re doing. If you need a break, we can take one.”

“I won’t.” He sounds pretty sure of that. Standing behind him, you shake your head. It’s always the ones that are so sure…

“Well, after a while, I’ll need one.” You run disinfecting wipes over the center of his back and set to work. When the needle touches down for the first time, he winces once, but he doesn’t wince again for the next ten minutes of linework. It takes you that long to realize that he’s barely breathing. “Your muscles are tense, buddy. I need you to relax for me or this will hurt more.”

“…I just…don’t want to move.” There’s something so sweet about the way he says it.

“You won’t move. You’re actually less likely to shake if you can let yourself go totally limp, like you would if you were about to fall asleep. Here, sit up for a second, take a deep breath, and stretch out.” He listens, but he’s not looking at you. You’re pretty sure he’s blushing.

“Okay. I’m relaxed.” Liar. You can still feel the knots in his muscles when you touch him again. But at least it’s a little better than before, and he’s getting impatient. “Keep going.”

Well, the customer is always right. “Alright, let’s do it.” You grab your pen and get back into place. The best you can do is try to distract him. “How did you choose this tattoo anyway?” Might as well see what story this one will make up.

“I didn’t.” That’s probably the truest answer you’ve heard so far.

“Do you…like it?” God, you hope so.

“Not really.”

“…You’re telling me I’m putting something on your body right now that you don’t want there?”

“No,” he says, a little too quickly. “Forget it.”

That’s probably for the best anyway. You’ll get too pissed off if you keep going down this line of questioning. You take a deep breath and try for something lighter. “So what do you, uh…do for fun?”

“Reading, mostly.”

“Oh, sweet. You read anything good lately?”

“Kind of. I’m reading Anna Kerenina.” He slips into a faint accent when he says it, and you have a suspicion.

“What translation?”

“Just the Russian.” He sounds a little annoyed, like you caught him out on something. You suppose you did, and it was kind of fun.

“Bilingual. That’s badass.”

“Thanks.” There’s silence again for a minute, but it feels friendlier.

“So what do you think of it?”

“It’s...fine.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Yeah, it’s kind of dry.”

“I guess, but I don’t mind that. I just don’t like Anna and Vronsky. Which is Tolstoy’s whole point, but…”

“They’re both little shits to everyone. Makes it hard to get invested.”

“Right, exactly.” He shifts his chin. “If I was married, I can’t imagine cheating.” From some people, a line like that would sound like a transparent attempt to come across as a “nice guy.” But he says it so wistfully, you know he means it.

Don’t say what you’re about to say. Don’t say it. Be professional.

…Fuck it, you’re doing this under the table anyway. “Are you dating anybody?”

“No.” It sounds so bitter that, for a second, you think you really are dealing with a nice-guy-impersonator. But then he clarifies. “My…lifestyle doesn’t allow for that.”

“Oh.” You can’t think of any way to reply that doesn’t involve the burning questions in your mind about what exactly this “lifestyle” entails. So you lapse into silence again, for much longer this time, just thinking, wondering what it’s like to be one of these young men with the cross tattoos. Are they all friends with each other? What exactly do they do? Is it difficult? How does it pay? How did they get into it?

You stop when you’re done with the linework. “Okay, that went great! We’re totally done with the outlines, which is half the battle. I’m going to take a break before we start on the shading.” You circle around in front of him to grab your water bottle, and catch a glimpse of his face as he’s straightening up.

He’s wiping off silent tears.

Your heart almost drops out of your chest. “Oh shit. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, but it sounds hoarse and shaky. “Just hurt more than I expected.” He huffs a laugh, trying to play the whole thing off as unimportant.

“Dude, I told you we can take breaks if you need. If you’re crying from pain, you’re too tensed up. Tell me next time, alright?” Before you realize what you’re doing, you’re rubbing his shoulder. He freezes for a second, and you pull back. “Sorry, I – I didn’t mean to – “

“No, it’s okay. I’m just not used to that.”

“Damn, how do they treat you at Mrs. Petrov’s place?” You’re half joking, but you want to know more and more by the second. And when he just looks grave and doesn’t answer, your heart does that weird dropping thing again.

“…Let me get you a water, okay? I’ll be right back.” You’re grateful for the short walk to the mini fridge you keep in the back of the parlor. It feels so heavy in that room. You’re starting to wish you hadn’t taken the deal, because whatever this is, you don’t want to be involved.

When you come back, he’s perfectly composed again, but looking at you more carefully this time, like he’s finally really seeing you. After he takes a drink of water, he hesitates for a second. “My name is Jardani.”

Warmly, “Nice to meet you.” You take the bottle back and set it on the table, within reach. “You’ll tell me if you get overwhelmed next time?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I’m trusting you.”

You watch him settle in and get back to work. It’s okay at first but there’s a dark shadow under those praying hands that needs to go right over his spine. It’s basically pure black. A couple minutes into it, he exhales sharply, like he’d been holding his breath for a while. “Stop.”

You set your pen down right away. “You got it.” You pull up a chair next to him and he turns to look at you, without sitting up. He’s really pale. “How are you feeling?”

“Lightheaded.”

“Yeah, you can pass out if you get tense like that for too long. But you’re okay. We can take as long as you need.” You put your hand on his shoulder again, massaging it, and this time, he lets you. You can feel some of the tension finally seep away and the color returns to his cheeks. The dark pools of his eyes are fixed on yours, and if you aren’t careful, you feel like you could fall into them and drown. There’s something trapped in cold waters down there, pleading for rescue.

Yeah, sure. If you were being unprofessional before, now you’re being a downright sentimental fool. This guy has probably shot people.

Despite being deep and rumbling, his voice sounds so quiet that it’s almost shy. “You don’t know what this means to me, to have a…nice moment... Thank you.”

“Oh – you’re welcome. It’s nothing, really.” You’re absolutely done for. “Um, do you want to stand up and stretch before we get back at it?”

“Mm-hm.”

Your brain is fried but you manage to hold it together while the both of you get back into position. The rest of the session goes pretty smoothly, and you talk a little more here and there. At first it’s just about how he should take care of this thing when it’s finished – staying out of the sun and all that. But then he starts to ask you about yourself - what you read, how you got into tattooing, your favorite designs. Everything you say seems to interest him. You can’t quite believe it but he’s obviously developing a crush on you. Or at least getting attached in some way. You can’t blame him, if the smallest friendly touch is such a foreign concept.

It's too soon when you place the finishing touches. “Okay! You want to take a look?” You help him up, his hand resting in yours for an instant as he slides off the bench, stiff and probably aching. It sends a jolt straight to your heart, to support some fraction of his weight and to feel the way his fingers squeeze down on yours before letting go. You mourn the contact instantly, and distract yourself by adjusting the two mirrors that reflect into each other, allowing him to see his back. “What do you think?”

“It does look cool actually.” He cracks a little heart-melting smile, and you’re really relieved. He may not have wanted it, but at least he’s not devastated.

“’Course it does, it was done by the best in the business,” you joke. Though to be honest, you really are impressed with your handiwork. Doing the same tattoo so many times pays off – each one has looked more polished than the last. It’s almost a shame to see him put his shirt back on…for multiple reasons.

“Oh, uh…” He fishes something out of his pocket. A wad of hard cash – a LOT of it, as usual. “Here’s the payment.” And then he’s leaving, before you can do anything, say anything, even catch the breath you’d lost trying to comprehend everything that just happened.

“Hey, wait!” You don’t really know what you’re going to say, but then he’s facing you again and you have to say something, and it just comes out. “…Do you need help? I don’t know what’s going on, but look, I’m not an idiot. I know something’s wrong here. I don’t know who Mrs. Petrov really is and I don’t care, but if you need me to do something, like…I don’t know, call a social worker or something or help you get transport out of the city...” Your voice falters. You have no idea what he’d need and even less idea how to provide it without getting both of you killed. And what if you’ve misread the whole situation? What if you’re completely out of line?

It certainly looks that way. It’s like a switch flips in him. “No. Whatever you do, don’t fucking try anything. It’s none of your business.” It’s the coldest he’s sounded. “You won’t see me again.” The door slams behind him.

You brace a hand against the counter behind you, shaking. How could you be so stupid, honestly. This emotional roller coaster isn’t worth it. You wish you’d never seen Mrs. Petrov, let alone this Jardani with his damn pain-soaked eyes and cornered-dog behavior. There’s something awful going on, and you can’t do anything about it, you’re just making it worse. If you can get out of this deal, you have to, even if it means getting out of the city. Maybe out west - San Francisco sounds nice this time of year.

You’re just putting yourself back together and trying to decide what the hell you’re gonna do when the door flings open again and he storms back though it, stopping short right in front of you. For a second, you just stare at each other, breathing hard. Then he catches the flash of foolish happiness in your eyes at seeing him again and musters his nerves.

And he. Fucking. Kisses. You. Forcefully, with his strong hands gripping your arms and his teeth colliding with yours, pulling, desperate, rebellious, like he’s trying to tell you something he’s not allowed to say. You’re pretty sure it’s, “Thank you. For being one of the few people who cared.”

And then he’s gone again, and this time, you can feel it: he’s never coming back.

[p2iimon]

sollux september day 5: derse. guys always remember to flip your canvas while drawing, especially if you plan on flipping it for another drawing, to prevent having to fix it after youve posted. not that i did that

[inkabelledesigns]

I'm seeing a lot of comments where people are trying to figure out where to go to roleplay with real people. So I wanted to add on with some advice for you.

If you're unsure where to go, there are many places to find fellow roleplayers. Look around on Tumblr's search feature for RP and askblogs, or consider making one yourself and tagging it with your fandom to be seen. If you write fanfiction, maybe put an offer at the end of your fic to roleplay with people in that fandom.

Search around for fandom Discord servers that have an RP section. I recently found myself in a Kirby server where the roleplaying scene is really fun. I'm mostly a spectator, but it's amazing how many tools there are for that, from typing regularly to making character profiles with Tupperbot and similar tools. Look for forum websites to see if they have any RP forums. I used to be a part of a forum on TV Tropes for a roleplayl called We Have All Been Gender Flipped, or WHABGF for short. Genuinely had a lot of fun there.

Heck, back when YouTube had a comments section on people's channels, my earliest internet roleplaying days were there. If you want to go make a YouTube video and use the comments section for roleplaying, by all means, go for it. It's unorthodox, but so long as everyone consents to it, why not? XD I mean there were days where my high school friends and I would make color coded Google Docs to roleplay together, we had some Sly Cooper level adventures that were so much fun. When you have friends or mutuals, reach out to them directly to ask if they'd be into it. I remember briefly playing around on a website called Chatzy for private chat rooms. I can't vouch for how it is now, but maybe that would be up your alley.

If you want more than text, then there's always a good drawing roleplay. Maybe you open up a Magma canvas and open it up to some friends or the public, and you doodle out some scenarios of your characters together. Maybe you find an online multiplayer game where you can goof around together. I can't say I know enough about VR chat to recommend it, but I'm told it's good to go in with a group of people you already know for that (and to be cautious about spicy stuff). Heck, you could probably do stuff like this in stuff like Minecraft if you wanted.

I know it can be scary to reach out to someone about this stuff, but I promise you, it's worth it. Be kind, be polite, and remember, the worst thing they can say is no. And it's okay to say no, that's not the end of the world. One door closed means another door is open somewhere else. Just remember, the person on the other side of the screen is in fact a person. They have a life outside of their phone that has them doing all sorts of things, and sometimes roleplays will be slow because of that. I know it's hard to wait, but waiting is worth it to have fun with someone whose company you enjoy.

If you're still anxious about being with real people, there's always playing life simulation games like The Sims. Most of the time, the base game is free for Sims 4, and there's so many mods you can download without ever needing to use Expansion packs. And on stuff like the Gallery, you can find lots of Sims of your favorite characters made by others, and you can tweak them to your liking. I personally love designing OCs and characters from my favorite media in games like this to play out their lives, romances, etc.

If you like text based games and want to imagine a character, a lot of my friends have been enjoying Fallen London recently. There's a lot of imagination and character creation you can do within the different scenarios they give you, and seeing all of their OCs from this has been a treat. There's also a messaging system there (that I keep neglecting to use, I'm so sorry guys) for a little bit of roleplay adjacent communicating between characters from real people, but it's not required. I'm sure there are other things like it out there that fit this niche, this is just the one I know of.

There are many ways to fill the part of your heart that loves roleplaying, and I promise you, it's worth it to take the time to try them. You will become a better writer and get better at socializing the more you exercise those skills, and ultimately, you'll find your people. And it's going to be so much fun! Just remember, be kind, get consent, and talk things out if you're unsure of where the boundaries are. It's gonna be okay, you've got this, you are gonna find something that works for you. I believe in you!

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go take my own advice and try to be less scared of roleplaying with some cool people I know. XD Because boy did I need a reminder that it's not so bad, and things are gonna be okay.

reminder that being against ai also means being against character.ai and not using character.ai and not interacting with character.ai

i've never talked to chatgpt i've never talked to character.ai i have no interest in talking to a chatbot even if it's fun or based on my comfort character. if we want companies to stop using ai we need to tell them we aren't going to interact with it - so don't.

don't talk to robots. full stop.

[thevviitchinghour]

PAC - msgs from Hurricane Nicole

I'm in florida before anyone gets mad at me, I'm also shocked at how striking these messages are.

PILE ONE

Keep pushing and manifesting because you guys are on the verge of bringing peace into your lives. For those of you trying to manifest justice it is beginning to ground itself into the physical realm. Be aware that the situation may erupt in a way you did not expect. This is nothing to feel bad about though, you simply pushed for the scales to be balanced. So expect just that. Stop dumping out your cup the moment it refills, like take a moment and chill out. A lot of you need to relax more and allow others to nurture YOU. Okay you need a fucking breakfast in bed or some shit. The way you are always there for others. You are more than a shoulder to cry on and a soothing voice. Remember to be grateful, because when you forget to be grateful and be active in your life & pay attention to the good you are fumbling your own manifestations. Like dumping paint on your canvas and just smearing it all over these intricate creations and desires and self expressions. Journal more often, be on top of self care, you might get to have a mani pedi soon!

PILE TWO You guys are really masterful artists and creators, perhaps you've putting an abundance of energy into creating something. Or cultivating some type of success, I feel like something is being hidden from this pile, it's going to soon be revealed to you. You might be frustrated about the delays but the point of these delays is for you to be present in the moment and just fucking enjoy yourself. Listen to throwbacks, look at old pictures and laugh, you might have an old friend or acquaintance reach out soon. It's always good to reconnect, but remember that just because you knew them doesn't mean they need full access back into your life. Slater was my shit in highschool, and I just feel like you guys need to draw more inspiration from your inner teen. You had tons of ideas and concepts that you threw away because you thought it wasn't good enough or you just forgot about them as a whole. Get to know your teen self again, have fun, go play in the woods, skate, go do something you haven't done in years and cherish the entirety of it. Your inspiration comes from your experiences, you rely too much on your intuition. While your intuition is an extension of you and you are an extension of spirit you are literally an amazing force of creative energy and hope for others. Get to know yourself again. I heard " Feels amazing"

PILE THREE This is a warning for you my Pile Three's. You are fucking up your own blessings with your messy nonsense. The manipulation, the lies, the confusion you orchestrate. End it now, "break that curse for sweet relief". Before you do something you can't take back. Communicate with people, you don't always have to treat people like this to get what you desire. Keep fighting for your desires, but stop harming people in the process. Those of you manifesting love or a long term relationship may be shooting yourself in the foot with ur flightiness. Ur so picky but you don't even fit your own standards. Like you would flip the fuck out if someone was on the shit you're on towards you. I don't care if it pisses you off, you know it's true. If you desire freedom then carve a path full of freedom for yourself. Quit playing these weird games where you are skirting between lines and stay in your own fucking line. A new beginning is coming your way, don't be the fool that falls off of the cliff and lands on his ass.

[hxneyhxrts]

Rain Soaked || Jake “Hangman” Seresin (part 3)

Part 2

note: you guys i’m so deadass when i say i genuinely look forward to all of your comments, they never fail to make me laugh. thank you for liking this so much and for vibing with me. i also have another tiny thingy coming soon but this was what i wanted to get out first. lots of love

warnings: explicit language, men (derogatory)

Good 4 U

Alec still snored just as loudly as she remembered. And hogged all of her blankets. And snuggled way too close when she was already sweating.

But it was perfect, and she’d take a lifetime of sweaty miserable nights if it meant having him close.

Gwyn woke up with a pep in her step and cheer in her tone. Alec had already made her coffee when she rolled out of bed, handing over her mug with a small smile.

She missed this. The normalcy of it. She missed him.

“You gonna run a comb through that rat’s nest, or are we just going to work looking like assholes now?”

Okay she missed most of him.

They dressed in tandem, exchanging jokes and shoves when the other one got too close, and for the first time in a long time, Gwyn felt at ease. Like she was back in her element, no longer a fish very much out of water.

Alec, like usual, snagged her keys before she could and insisted on driving them to work. They had made it all of two miles when Alec scoffed, “What kind of shit are you listening to?”, before switching the radio station.

Gwyn’s heart had stilled, just for a moment, but enough to feel it.

But the world kept spinning and the day went on. She could do this. Little by little she’d work him out of her life, and maybe changing the radio station was the first little step in doing that.

So she didn’t put up a fight. She didn’t scramble to flip it back. She didn’t fuss.

She did, however, clench her hands against her thighs.

As soon as they arrived at work, they were being swept in and ordered to change into their flight suits. “Hit the ground running,” Alec had said.

She spent considerable time zipping herself into the suit she had become so familiar with, littered in patches, and brushing her hair back into whatever the navy deemed a “fly-safe” bun. She spared herself exactly 45 seconds in the mirror for a pep talk before heading for the door where she met Alec. The older pilot had leaned himself against the opposite wall in the perfect picture of cool and calm, every bit the talented RIO she had heard rumors of.

“Damn baby, you look tasty in that canvas,” he joked, swatting at her backside as she passed.

Baby. No one had called her baby in a long time. Hell, the last person who did was-

No.

Not today. Today, there were other things to think about. Bigger things. Like the details of this detachment she had been shipped out for without warning or explanation. The tragedy of her love life could certainly take a back burner for the day.

Hopefully.

They wound their way through endless hallways until they were shoving through heavy double doors that led them straight to a hangar. Familiar, never too different from the next naval base. Easy and manageable.

She really could do this.

Pilots milled about, varying ages and statures, but one thing remained the same.

They were all men.

Gwyn swallowed, that familiar feeling of being out of place creeping back in. She knew these things, and how they often played out. No matter what she did, no matter how much she proved, she was pushing her way into a boys’ club. Having Alec in her backseat had always helped, but this wasn’t flight school and this wasn’t Top Gun. These weren’t shiny-faced newbies with the same rank as her. These were grown men with years of work and life experience stacked against hers, and it wouldn’t be long before the jabs started.

Gwyn gave it ten minutes before one of them landed the first blow.

Alec reached to give her hand a small squeeze, a knowing look in his eyes. He had seen how awful it had been in those early days, the strain of being the black sheep in the flock no matter how good she was at her job. But he had been there, and he was here now.

“Do my eyes deceive me?”

Gwyn spun quickly, brow furrowed then smoothing when she caught sight of a familiar mustached grin.

Rooster.

She was embracing him as soon as he was close enough to hug, and he met her with an equally bone-crushing squeeze. Alec slapped him on the back in that way that guys often did, and Gwyn pulled back to see Bradley grinning. “What are you doing here, Bradshaw?”

Rooster shrugged, a casual gesture that seemed a little too practiced to be natural. Gwyn’s hackles raised. Hiding something, but what, she didn’t know.

“Got called in. Same as you, I guess.”

He knew something she didn’t. It wasn’t like Bradley to keep friends in the dark unless necessary, but still, she wanted to claw at that look and demand to be let in on his secret.

‘Or maybe you’re insane and paranoid,’ a small voice whispered in her head.

She wanted to relax and give him the benefit of the doubt. Things had been stressful and maybe they’d taken a toll on her nerves. But she couldn’t shake the way Bradley’s eyes kept darting over her shoulder.

Another pilot sauntered up next to Rooster then, just about Alec’s age but nowhere near as handsome. “Who do we have here?” And even his voice sounded venomous.

Ignoring the tone, Bradshaw addressed the newcomer with a tight smile. “Vegas, this is Lieutenant Canadee and Shaw. Canadee here is one of the best pilots I’ve ever met, so ease up maybe.”

Gwyn’s chest constricted at the sentiment, flattered by all means.

That didn’t last for long.

“The best, huh?” Vegas smirked before extending a hand to Alec. “Nice to meet you, then.”

Guess it didn’t take ten minutes.

Alec snickered, reaching out with two fingers to push the outstretched hand in her direction. “I’m not the pilot.”

Vegas’ eyes flashed as confusion crossed his face while his eyes fell on her for what felt like the first time in their conversation. He let his gaze trail up and down, assessing her before he gave a simple “hm”, and slid by her.

Asshole.

Her backseater was giggling like a kid, barely stifling it in his hand as Bradley looked on, mortified.

“I’m sorry, he can be kind of an ass.”

But Gwyn waved him off, no longer rattled by the arrogance of her male counterparts. She’d handled them for years now, she could do it now, too. She could. Really, she could.

When a job like this came around, you didn’t let a few jackasses with egos to compensate for their dicks get to you. So Gwyn would be unshakeable and unmovable. She’d be better than them, and let them grovel amongst themselves. Nothing and no one could rattle her now.

“Lieutenant Canadee.”

Ice flooded her veins. The air around them chilled. She saw Alec’s neck snap towards the man approaching behind them, his eyes borderline frantic.

Because she knew that voice. The same voice she sometimes heard in her dreams when she finally managed to wrestle herself to sleep. A voice that would mock her by saying, “You’ll always be my girl, but this isn’t working anymore. I’m sorry.”

She swallowed. Once. Twice.

Unmovable. Unshakeable.

But as she spun on her heel to face the very person that had tormented her every waking moment for months, she could literally feel the fight leave her body.

“Lieutenant Seresin.” Her voice had hollowed out, almost breathless as she said his name.

Jake looked good, so much better than she remembered. Devastatingly handsome and cut in all the right places. Those same green eyes that had once looked at her like she hung the stars now regarded her with a practiced, cool indifference.

So this is who they were now. Coworkers. That was all.

Jake’s brow furrowed for a second, but he dropped the expression as he greeted her counterpart with a simple, “Shaw.”

Alec’s lips had thinned and he had inched closer to Gwyn. Just a fraction, but she could feel the noticeable brush of his hand against hers. “Hangman,” he bit out.

If Jake noticed the animosity from her friend, he didn’t show it, throwing a quick glance over her head at who she presumed was Bradley before glancing back at her. “I heard you guys would be joining us.”

And it was obvious in retrospect, Gwyn thought. Any super special mission that required her to drop everything and jet off away from her post at Top Gun would involve Jake Seresin. The best of the best.

Her palms had gone clammy. Fearing her voice would fail her, she opted to drop her head in curt nod instead. A short call ringing out through the hangar saved her from having to respond any further, and Alec was dragging her to fall in line without another word to Jake.

He was here. In the flesh. She should have expected it, and maybe a small part of her did, but she had sworn off thinking about Jake and that included thinking about the possibility of him showing up for this detachment. She had shot herself in the foot in her quest to do away with him.

God. Her life was a sick fucking joke.

She fell into line next to Alec, straightening to attention as some higher up prowled down the line of pilots gathered. She chanced a small glance down the line to size up the rest of the group, her confidence shrinking with every person she looked over. They were all older. And older meant smarter.

Her eyes raked over Jake, not in line with the rest of them, but rather standing off to the side. Of course, standing in line was probably below the great and mighty Jake Seresin.

She wanted to scoff. Maybe he was every bit the pompous asshole she had thought him to be when she first met him. It was easy to hate him then. She almost hoped she could get back to that point.

‘You’re looking for a reason to hate him,’ her brain supplied uselessly.

‘I know,’ she bit back in defeat.

Admiral So-and-So ran through the basics of the mission, some stealth mission in order to obtain intelligence on some foreign entity in the west. Fairly routine, save for their air defense. Nothing they couldn’t handle and a total cakewalk compared to her last mission.

She shuddered at the memory before the admiral continued.

“You all have been selected because of your performances and talent behind the wheel. We’ll spend a few weeks training and getting a feel for everyone’s flying and start weeding you out one by one as we get closer to launch. Until then, Captain Seresin will be conducting your training.”

Gwyn’s shoulders seized.

Captain.

Captain.

Before she could stop herself, her eyes were snapping back to him to find him already looking at her. Her brows furrowed. Why hadn’t he corrected her? Why didn’t he tell her?

‘He doesn’t owe you that kind of information anymore.’

And sure, that was fair. But Jake Seresin wasn’t the type to let a subordinate address him as “lieutenant” if that wasn’t the truth.

Had this been what Bradley had been geeking out over? What he had been keeping from her?

She blew air through her nostrils, calming her nerves as they fried.

Unmovable. Unshakeable.

She would be a fortress. She would be better.

This would not trip her up.

“Ridiculous,” came the hiss from somewhere further down the line.

Jake’s eyes broke from hers. “Something wrong, Shakespeare?”

Gwyn turned to find a much older man, just starting to barely gray at his temples, shaking his head with a set jaw. He cast a glance at her, and the iciness of it made her pause.

“I just find it a bit insulting that after the years I’ve put into this job, you have me lined up next to a couple of kids.” He was full on glaring at her now, eyes bouncing between her and Alec. “I mean you’ve got some backseat boy who’s barely seen action and a girl who looks better suited for a shift at Hooters. No offense sweetheart.”

Alec moved to lunge, but Gwyn grabbed his arm with a squeeze. His jaw was set, firm and rigid like his posture. She had seen him angry plenty of times, but the tension of the day seemed to be heightening it to levels she had never seen from him.

He turned to face her, and she shook her head. They would handle this like they always did: in the cockpit.

“It just feels like a slap in the face that you have me lumped in with a couple of kids who just graduated Top Gun like a year ago,” he continued on.

Alec’s lips broke into a smirk, and Gwyn held her breath. She could physically hold him back, but there was nothing she could do about his mouth.

“So you’ve heard of us?”

Shakespeare turned to give him a scathing look, bordering on annoyed. “Yeah, and?”

Alec full on grinned then, serpentine and lined with mischief. “Funny, I can’t say the same.”

Breath stilled in her lungs. The older man’s eyes narrowed to slits, and fuck, he looked pissed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

A shrug, but she knew better than to trust it. Alec smiled again. “It’s just a little weird, I guess. I mean, you’ve spent all these years as a pilot and you haven’t done anything notable? It seems a little… What’s the word?” He tapped at his chin in a show of contemplation before smirking. “Pathetic? Yeah, that’s it.”

Shakespeare’s entire face turned crimson, and Gwyn braced for the tongue lashing or beating Alec was sure to take, but Jake’s voice cut through the air.

“Any questions about anyone’s talents can be answered out there,” he spoke with a wave towards the open hangar door. “Wheels up in ten minutes. Go.”

She all but dragged Alec to the tarmac.

—----------

Being back in the air after days of being grounded was cathartic. Nothing else seemed to matter as she pushed through open air.

Dogfighting came so naturally these days between her constant drills as instructor and secret joyrides she sometimes took with one of her coworkers that she had bonded with.

“Vegas, you’re out,” she breathed, pulling hard and banking left. A string of expletives crackled through her radio, and she answered with a silent smile.

‘Should’ve listened to Bradshaw, asshole.’

This was her element. Everything from the rush to the dizziness was purely and uniquely hers. She had gotten better over the year, and there was a certain thrill about taking those skills against seasoned professionals instead of her usual group of students.

“Bradshaw, do you prefer being on top or bottom?” Alec teased, eyes locked on his screen. This was his element too, his domain.

A burst of laughter rang through her ears as Rooster cackled. “Why? Trying to make a move on me, Shaw?”

“Not at all,” Alec smirked. “Just wanted to know how you wanted it when Cheek gun locks your ass.”

“Roo, you’re dead,” she cut in, dropping in behind him and quickly rolling out before he could fully register her presence.

A sigh through the comms. Then, “Couldn’t even take me to dinner first?”

“Is that all it takes?” Gwyn snarked, eyes scanning open air for any shadow or shape that might tell her where the last two planes were.

Shakespeare. And Jake.

“Hangman” up here.

“There you are,” came a grating singsong voice through her headset.

Without thinking, Gwyn scissored her plane, rocking back and forth until she could tell for sure where Shakespeare was. She’d be damned if she let him of all people be the one to send her back to the tarmac early.

“On our ass,” Alec provided. She could hear the smile in his voice. “Do that thing you know I like, baby.”

She giggled at the sheer flirtiness in his voice. “Hold on tight, cowboy.”

And then she cut the engine.

The descent was quick and furious and a bit nauseating considering she hadn’t done it in quite some time, but still, it was her depth.

A startled curse sounded in her headset, and Gwyn knew she had him. Pulling up quickly, she pushed her nose until she was level behind him. “Dead,” she taunted.

Another curse, one she would have reveled in if Jake’s voice hadn’t cut her off.

“So are you.”

Alec groaned behind her, and she turned to see the hulking form of Jake’s plane just behind hers. How he had managed to slip behind her undetected was beyond her, but she supposed she should’ve been paying attention. “Great,” she muttered.

“Not falling for that one ever again,” and it almost sounded like Jake was…

Joking with her?

It was too much. Too fast and too much. So she didn’t respond, letting an awkward silence tense the space between them.

“Take me back, Cheek, I’m getting a headache,” Alec slid in smoothly. She’d thank him later for saving her. For now, she spun them back to the tarmac in silence, overly aware of the listening ears on the other end of her radio.

—-------

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

They had made it all of two steps inside the hangar when Shakespeare was storming towards them in a huff.

Wonderful.

“I mean, what the fuck was that?” he yelled, getting alarmingly close to them, eyes solely trained on her.

Alec reached around to push her behind him, just enough to keep her out of his way. “Is there a problem?”

Shakespeare looked at him now, eyes narrowing. “You can’t be serious,” he gaped incredulously, throwing his hands up when Alec shrugged. “That little stunt you pulled out there? You only sniped me because I was taken off guard.”

“Yes, because any enemy plane is going to give you a heads up before they engage right?” And Alec sounded downright pissed despite his joking words.

The older man pushed on, voice still rising. “You broke the hard deck!” he roared.

“I didn’t set one.”

Gwyn’s senses dialed up to eleven as Jake appeared by her shoulder, so much closer than he had been all day. Closer than he had been in seven months.

Shakespeare whirled on him, confusion settling into the subtle lines on his face. “I’m sorry?”

Jake shrugged, clasping his hands in front of him in a stance that exuded power. “As captain, it’s my job to set a hard deck. I didn’t set one.” His eyes slid to her briefly, quick enough that she thought she might have imagined it. “There was no hard deck on this hop.”

The memory of one of their first conversations, nearly twin to this one, came flooding back and coiled low in her belly.

“So she just gets away with it?”

“She’s not ‘getting away’ with anything,” Jake’s tone turned dark. “She didn’t break any rules. Maybe you should have been listening more closely when I was instructing.”

Alec’s infamous grin broke out, and Gwyn almost laughed at the rage that flared in Shakespeare's eyes as her friend spoke. “They say hearing goes first in old age.”

That does it.

Her shoulders are shaking in laughter, and she catches Jake’s lips quirk in a small smile. The sight makes her freeze, humor drifting out like a raft stuck at sea, and she suddenly needs to be very, very far away.

“Well,” she cuts in before the pilot in front of her can lay into Alec anymore. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m late for my shift at Hooters.”

A roar of laughter punches out of Alec before he spins on his heel to follow her out.

It didn’t matter where she was going, so long as it was away from Jake and his disarming smile.

Unmovable. Unshakeable.

Part 4

tags: @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @unknown1010000202 @alanadetigy @barbiewritesstuff @dempy @maggieromanov @jake-h-ngm-n-seresin @fangirlingoverfangirls @mavswife @the-winter-marvel33 @fuzzy-panda @fangirlofallthings22 @wildxwidow

[thechoosenonecreator]

NSFW alphabet (Steve Rogers)

Steve Rogers x Black!Reader

Warning: EXPLICT CONTENT 18+/ Dub and Sub dynamic/ Oral sex/ Mirror sex/Sub Steve and Dominant Reader

A/N: This is my second headcanon I'm not to good at this send me some request and join my taglist (also bad writing)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

After falling off the edge he would hug and comfort you and once he calms down from his climax he would go straight to the bathroom to clean himself off and then get you a clean rag to clean you up. If you are not tired he would offer you a movie if not he sometimes likes to go to the kitchen and make you a quick snack you like and just sit and talk and have random deep conversations.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

(This reader has a big boob size)

He loves your boobs. He loves how soft they are and how sweet they taste after you rub cocoa butter. He loves sucking on them so much to the point you tease him by calling him a big man-baby or when he is on them you play with his hair and call him your baby boy. He even uses them as pillows. He even sometimes drools on them while sleeping (He’s so cute). One time when Steve was drunk he was raspberring your boobs and talking to them like they were two human beings.

His favorite body part is probably his arms. He loves when you stare at them and when he catches you you blush hard. He also loves wrapping in between them. He loves to play fighting with you and squeezing you in between until you jokingly beg him to let you go.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Due to the serum, he has a pretty large load. It’s always a thick white coat he loves covering your body with. He calls it “painting a fresh canvas”. He has some limits he will not cum on your face without permission. He doesn’t feel comfortable doing that unless you ask. He learned that people with unhealthy diets can make your cum taste nasty and doesn’t want you to think bad of him so he eats better food so his load can taste better for your sake.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Steve loves being submissive to you. He likes when you tie him down, or when you call him baby boy while you're milking him dry. He was so used to being under control so when he was the one being controlled he was a bit surprised. He felt a weird tingle in his stomach when he heard you call him good boy and he went crazier when he was on top of you but you flipped him over and straddled him and told how you were taking control that night. He remembers every word, every touch, everywhere your mouth touches.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

When it comes up to sex in general Steve does have experience. He had sex with Sharon and even a couple of one-night stands, but kinky he had a lack of experience. Steve knew how to please you traditionally but tying down and spanking he didn’t know. He did personal research, asked for your opinions, and even asked Nat (she knows a lot about kinky sex). He learned about safe words, the tying methods, the safest and best toys, he even learned how to do temperature play. He will never try something without learning everything about it and asking your opinions.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He does like fucking you in front of the mirror. See him your face from a different angle when you cum. (he also loves watching himself slam into you each time, it makes him want to finish even quicker).

G = Goofy (are they more serious at the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

When he wants to be dominant and take control he doesn’t joke around. If you laugh too much he takes that as you making fun of him and he will make you regret it. When he is trying to be intimate and romantic then he sometimes jokes around to make the moment sweet.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Before dating, Steve kept down there tamed for his comfort. After you guys became sexually active he made sure he kept down groomed for your comfort now.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Steve is very romantic during and after sex. He makes sure you are well taken care of and makes sure your body is doing ok. ON anniversaries or holidays like valentine's, he would decorate the room for the occasion. He makes sure whether the session is rough or gentle he will make sure you felt love and passion and most of all you are not being used and your love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Before dating, you used to tease him a lot. You would mostly do it to see his reaction but you never knew how sexually frustrated you left him. Your small touches left him rock-hard boners. He just couldn’t take it anymore so he started touching himself. Not to videos but the thought of you. The thought of your curves, your breast, your ass. When you guys started dating and became sexually active Steve he prefers sex more than jerking off until he found it hard to be apart from you on a long mission. Especially when you would tease over the phone by saying all these things to him and to make it worse you would hang up when he wanted to have some phone fun just to tease him. To relieve the pressure he would touch himself to a flashback of you and him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding Kink

This is the main reason why he likes to cum inside of you so much. You decided on using birth control for the time being, but he is just so impatient to get you pregnant. Plus, he just thinks you look so hot with his cum leaking down your legs as you stand up.

Praise

He loves when you tell him how good he’s doing or how perfect he is or even when you're worshiping his body. It gives him a boost in confidence and makes his performance better.

L = Location (favorite places to do it)

Steve is a very discreet man. His whole life was always put on blast and hated every single thing about it. One thing he hates about the Captain America thing is being famous and having no privacy. So he will make sure that everything and every moment with his girl will not be invaded by anyone or anything. He loves his bedroom. He has a huge king-size bed with a designed metal headboard. The room has a soundproofing system which means he could make you as loud as he wants.

He also loves the shower. He doesn’t know why he loves it so much. Probably because the clean-up is quicker and easier or he could be more intimate with you. The showers aren't a place where you have quick rough sex. It’s where you have to be passionate and slow and a little rough, you just gotta know what you're doing. (Also he loves the sound of wet skin slapping together)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I know it's cliche but Steve loves seeing you with white or light blue lace. Something about what it does to him. It gives him a tingle in his belly. He loves where you wear his large shirt with nothing under. He knows you do it to tease him and oh boy does it work. He loves it when you wear a sundress with your booking apron he finds it hot when he gets to see a glimpse of you in the domestic lifestyle.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

He is willing to try anything with you from tying to the bed or roleplaying but one thing would never do is anything that has to do with body fluid like blood, pee, or worst of all shit. No threesome he doesn’t like to share, especially not with Bucky. His whole life she never got girl attention, Bucky did. So no one can blame him for not wanting to see his girl being slowly stolen from his best friend.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He came from a generation where you take care of your women th\en yourself and even when out of his time he still kept them the things he learned from then. He makes that foreplay comes for the real stuff. He will always be the one to go down on you. Whether it's a quickie or a full session he will make sure that he goes down on you before he does anything else.

He doesn’t mind you going down on him. He doesn’t force you cause he knows when his body grew and his body PARTS also grew with it. When you do it he goes crazy about how your tongue wraps around him and how your mouth feels real good.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on the moment and how much time he has. If you have about 30 minutes before a meeting it starts slow but quickly gets rough and fast after you guys start getting into it. If you guys have more than 45 minutes he is definitely going to take his time and make sure every second lasts.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn’t really like them but they do come in handy when there's not enough time to “take care of you”. He would either do it closest he know no one would come in and go around or he would lock down his office and quickly fuck you before someone comes in. ( There was a time when the team was on a conference call with a general and after they finished Steve had to go on the call but you wanted it. He quickly handled you in the kitchen before the team came in. Bucky saw a little glimpse and told you guys to finish quickly before the rest came in.)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Before he was only willing to experiment out of curiosity and out of the pressure of today’s standard. When Bucky and Sam give him advice they made it seems like causal soft sex was bad, it was like all he had to do was be rough with you. Steve felt a need to spice things up not because he wanted to but because he felt like he had in order to keep you. He decided one day to have a talk about this and when you told him that you loved what you guys were doing already that pressure went away. After you told him that he felt more comfortable and decided he wanted to spicy things out of fun and curiosity not out of pressure.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Everyone knows that Steve has high stamina. He could go for many rounds only needing a little break but he knows you can’t do that so he doesn’t try to force you to go beyond your limit unless you force him to (AVERAGE AMOUNT OF ROUNDS: 9 to 10/ LASTING TIME: about a good 9 to 13 minute if he was trying to dragging it out to have fun but normally just 5 to 8 minutes)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Steve himself doesn’t have toys but he always thought about bringing some for you in the room. He would most definitely use them on you and maybe just maybe and little on him. Only if you're using it on him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Steve is such a tease. He will have you hyped up and flustered just to leave you hanging. He one time slipped his fingers into your shorts during dinner. He slowly rubbed your button and when he finally got a whimper out of you he stopped and continued a conversation with the team and this was all over dinner.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Steve was really happy when he found out that Tony put a soundproofing system into the rooms. Although they don’t work for super-soldier they do work on the others. H can get very loud depending on the session. (If it’s when you tease an edge for a while he most definitely will be loud except during the release). He usually makes whimpering sounds and soft breathy moans. When he moans loudly you get pretty surprised by the amount of “fuck” and “oh yes” coming out his mouth.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He loves being possessive over you in public. You are a very pretty girl and Steve knows that and he also knows that you being pretty girls and guys will always try to hit on you. Steve always tries to make a mark on you. Either he calls you names in front of his competition or kisses you and touches you to show you his. He doesn’t like being the jealous type but out of all the relationships he has been in you're are the only one he is serious about and he doesn’t want to lose without a fight.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Steve has some length and width down there if you know what I mean. You could see from the sweatpants. (On soft 5 ½) (Normal length 7) (On a boner 8 ½ max) It may be long but its really thick.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Steve is almost always in the mood. He is willing to go anytime and any private place he could. His drive is higher than most of the team.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He does get tired a bit but he doesn’t fall asleep straight away. He tries to make sure you are okay and taken care of and make him comfortable himself and when you feel ready to go to sleep he falls asleep if he’s tried if not he’ll force himself to fall asleep

I don’t own these characters, songs, or lyrics, nor did I create any of them. This work is strictly for fair use/ entertainment purposes. No money has been received from this work.

Check out my Masterlist, you might find something you like! Reblogs are welcome!

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[hisunshiine]

To All The Men I’ve Fucked Before ; (M) jjk

↣ When your secret 'sex' journal entries are somehow texted to the people they were written about, including a couple of coworkers and your best friend, you find your quiet work existence turned upside down. based off of TATBILB.

moodboards | playlist | Netflix ReImagined BTS Masterlist | TATMIFB masterlist 

↳ #NetflixReImaginedBTS: Jeon Jungkook x Reader starring in a fake dating au, photographer!JK, stylist!Reader

⟢ pairing: photographer!jungkook x stylist!reader

⟢ word count: 30.7k

⟢ genre + warnings: nsfw 18+, fake relationship, smluff © & angst, kissing, fluffy fake relationship cuteness, jealousy, jungkook needs help with feelings, clothed humping, explicit sexual content in the form of unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, body worship, cunnilingus, fingering, handjob, hickies, blowjob, creampie, begging, strip tease if you squint, baby petname, crying, feelings of heartbreak, oh did i mention angst? namkook fist fight, minimal arguing, minimal blood, other idols make brief appearances, OT7 is present 

⟢ summary: When your secret 'sex' journal entries are somehow texted to the people they were written about, including a couple of coworkers and your best friend, you find your quiet work existence turned upside down. based off of the netflix film and novel by jenny han, but different.

⟢ an: hello, hello! this is probably my favorite story to date that i’ve written and the longest one shot! I am so grateful to everyone who helped me by reading this (most are not on tumblr), but especially my baby hana, @taestulip​, who always reads and hypes me up. the movie/book series it’s based off of is honestly one of my faves, and turning it into an adult version was a lot of fun! I know i took out some characters and changed a lot of the plot devices, but for good reason, as it is it’s own novel, I did not want to encroach on that territory. fake dating au’s are some of my absolute faves and so i hope you enjoy this! sorry for the length, sksksks.

⟢ prologues: NJ & Reader | Love Triangle (coming soon) |

The large glass building was located on the corner of the block, in the heart of the city. A sight to see from all corners of the downtown area, you loved that you worked at BigHit Music. Of course, housing the globally recognized idol duo, SeoulM8, made working there fun. You walked into the building, and swiped your badge as you made your way through the secured entrance and up the elevator to your office. 

The gold plaque on your door highlighted your name and position. To this day you’re still in awe to see your name engraved in sans serif with the words “Lead Wardrobe Stylist” written beneath it. You entered the office, flipping on the lights and smiling at the large board along the back wall. It was covered with the designs you would need for the upcoming shoot for SeoulM8’s fan content, first single off their newest album, and plans for the concert wardrobe as well. 

Placing your empty insulated coffee tumbler on your desk, you set down all of your belongings, organizing your design tablet, notebook, and favorite writing utensils before once again taking the tumbler in hand. A cup of coffee would be perfect to start your busy Monday before your meeting with Jimin and Taehyung about their wardrobe later today. 

Walking into the employee lounge area, you set about making your coffee. Others walked in and out, dropping off packed lunches and grabbing coffee as well, so you can’t help but hear the gossip as two of the women who work with SeoulM8 discuss the latest office drama.

“I can’t believe it. She broke up with him!” Becca said, her colorful pixie cut swaying slightly as she shook her head.

“She’s crazy, Jungkook is gorgeous; have you seen his thighs?” Theresa responded, twirling her dark purple curls in wonder.

You stirred in the caramel creamer slowly, listening to their conversation. Jeon Jungkook and Jeon Somin (no relation) had been dating for almost as long as you could remember. It was surprising to hear that they were broken up. 

“Somin is really pretty too, though, she could have any guy… What if that’s what it was?”

“You think someone better than Jungkook came along and wooed her?”

“I mean… I swore I heard a rumor that she went out on a date with one of the actors, but who knows. All we know for sure is that Jungkook is single.” 

Finishing your coffee, you closed the lid to your favorite cup and left the room, smiling politely to Becca and Theresa who provided you with the information that had your head reeling. The entire walk back to your office, and even once you were seated at the desk, you couldn’t stop thinking about Jungkook and Somin.

Somin was one of the first friends you made at BigHit School for Music and Artists when you transferred in after completing your AA requirements at another university. BHSMA operated differently than traditional universities, converting students to employees at the company associated with the school. It was where you met Jungkook, Jimin, and a few other people that you worked closely with at the company. After that first year though, you grew apart from some of the people you spent that entire first year with, making new friends, like the one walking in through your office door.

So lost in thoughts of the past, you almost knocked over your perfectly made coffee onto your design tablet, where you had been sketching aimlessly. A dimpled smile was the cause of your quickly beating heart, complimenting the face of Namjoon, who startled you when he called your name loudly.

“Joon, I swear, one day, you will be the death of me, and my electronics.”

“Listen, you dropped your phone all on your own, no one told you to be scared when I walked into the room.”

“Stop being so fucking loud when you enter, you startle people!”

He just laughed, his pretty eyes disappearing as he expelled joy. Namjoon was glowing, his tanned skin looking healthy and youthful. You couldn’t help but smile at him as he pushed his falling platinum hair out of his dark eyes and set his gaze on you.

“I think I’m gonna do it today, Y/N.”

You froze, smile still on display, but a little less enthusiastic than when he had first walked in.

“Do it?” You asked, wary as you saw his hand drift to his inside coat pocket.

“I love her, Y/N. I think I’m gonna ask her to be mine, always.” Namjoon removed a small velvet box from his pocket and you reached for it, hand trembling slightly. Namjoon, in his excitement, was oblivious to the way you shook, as well as the sound of your heart splintering. “Do you think Jennie will like it?”

Looking at the ring tucked into the box, you nodded, not trusting your voice. Of course Jennie would. It was beautiful. A rose gold band with an opulent Moonstone set in the middle, and two smaller diamonds set on either side. You knew that the moonstone was Joon’s favorite, he talked about how much he loved the moon countless late nights that you would sit with him in his studio.

“It’s gorgeous, Namjoon.” You said quietly. This time, he noticed the tremble of your voice, and stood worriedly from where he was perched on the corner of your desk.

“Whoa, what’s wrong?” He asked you, concerned by your demeanor.

“Nothing, I’m just so happy for you.” You lied, tilting your head back to blink away the forming tears. Believing you, he enveloped you into a hug and you hugged him back tightly, afraid to let go.

“Ah, you have a meeting soon and I’m here making you cry… I’ll see you after and tell you how it went! Good luck, Y/N!”

Namjoon exited your office, footsteps light as he headed towards his future… and away from you. Sinking into your chair, you take several steadying breaths in order to settle your heart. Why did it hurt so much? You had given up on the idea of you and Namjoon a long time ago. This wasn’t what you expected to have to deal with when you arrived to work, but you were a professional. Wiping your smudged eyeliner to clean up your makeup, you looked down at your design tablet, where you see the sketch of a professional camera held by a large hand up to a large doe eye half finished on your screen. 

Hitting the “new” button, you begin to draw anew on a clean canvas creating the concept for the concert design for your meeting with SeoulM8 later on.

—

Sitting at home, you massaged the soles of your feet as you rested on your couch with your younger sister, Yuna, who was doing her homework at the coffee table. It had been a long day, but Jimin and Taehyung loved your idea for their concert concept: young guys traveling Seoul for group songs, and angelic, soft individual images of them with feathered outfits to match their solo songs. 

“Yuna… Namjoon is getting engaged today.”

Your sister stopped working, turning to look at you with eyes wide. She had been diligently studying for the cosmetology courses she was taking at your alma mater in hopes of getting hired at the same company as you. This news threw her off track.

“What? He—wait, what?”

You nodded, letting out a deep sigh as you turned towards the floor to ceiling windows in the living room. Rain was steadily falling, the perfect backdrop to your mood.

“Both of our dreams are shattered. He showed me the ring and said he was proposing today. To Jennie.”

Yuna flung herself onto the couch dramatically. 

“Can we please drink to drown our sorrows? This homework can wait.” 

You nodded, turning on Netflix before getting up to grab the wine and glasses. While you stood on tiptoe at the edge of the counter, reaching up into the tall cabinet for the long stemmed glasses, the doorbell to your apartment rang.

“I’ll get it!” Yuna yelled, and so you clambered onto the counter, knees digging into the marble as you finally managed to reach your goal. 

“Oh! Namjoon?”

You almost slipped from where you were perched, confused as to why your newly engaged best friend would be loudly squelching his tennis shoes into your apartment and not ravishing his fiancee. You expected a text or call about the engagement, not a personally delivered update. 

You wouldn’t be able to pretend this time. 

Turning to look at the entryway, you see a downtrodden and sopping wet Namjoon, eyes rimmed red from crying.

“Joonie?” Your voice was soft, questioning. He maneuvered across the kitchen with just three big steps and pulled you into his arms. His body slotted between your thighs where you sat on the counter after almost falling, and he let loose a sob that broke your heart even more than earlier.

“Joon, what happened?” You asked, scared.

“J-Jennie… she said no.” Your eyes widened in shock, but you waited patiently for him to continue. “She’s moving to Japan, she took that expansion position… She broke up with me.”

—

It was a long night to say the least. 2 wine glasses turned into 3 once Namjoon had shown up. You grabbed some of his spare clothes for him to change into, threw his stuff in the washer, and joined Yuna and him back in the living room where they had both curled up and began watching The Start Up on Netflix. 

Climbing onto the couch, you wrapped your arm around him and placed your head on his shoulder. He kissed your forehead before settling in to watch TV, and you couldn’t help the way your heart reacted to it. He had always been affectionate with you during your time as best friends, though it had lessened some the more serious he and Jennie became. The difference now was that this time, he was single. A part of you hoped it could mean more in the future. 

By episode 2, Namjoon was asleep on Yuna’s shoulder; no surprise considering how tired he must have been. He had cried on his way to your apartment, and the last of his tears onto your shirt when he arrived. Luckily, you hadn’t yet changed out of your own work clothes, so when you grabbed his garments, you took the opportunity to change into a spaghetti strap tank and sweatpants for couch cuddling. You turned off the TV as you untangled yourself from him, stretching as he roused slightly from your movements. 

“Don’t you two just look like the sweetest couple,” you say yawning, gently teasing your sister who was beet red from your words. Her crush on Namjoon was nothing new, but not something she wanted him to know about. She already knew she was too young for him; seen as nothing more than his best friend’s little sister. A part of Yuna was jealous that you had better chances with him than she did.

“Shut it!” Her whisper is harsh, but Namjoon slept on, unaware of the sisterly teasing. “I already know you’re gonna write all about this in your sex book!” 

You rolled your eyes, having forgotten about your old journal that you kept. You just shrugged, leaning down to gently wake Namjoon so you can put him to bed.

“Come on sleepy… Let’s get up and go to bed okay?” 

His large frame shuffled across the living room and down the hallway to your room. You heard him plop heavily on your bed, probably already asleep without having pulled back the covers. You put the empty wine glasses into the sink and straightened up the living room a tiny bit before you went to your room as well. 

Not yet ready for bed, you sat at your desk with the small lamp on, staring at the old journal your sister reminded you about. The image on the front is faded; you can barely make out what it used to be as you’ve covered it with doodles and stickers that are peeling at the edges. Opening it, you turned through the pages, taking in the lengthy entries about the boys you’ve slept with, starting with the one you lost your virginity to. 

Your finger grazed across the fancy calligraphy where you wrote his name at the top in a purple gel pen in. Jeon Jungkook. You laughed at the way you wrote about him, first describing him as a person before giving the intimate details of the experience, and finally ending it with a brief message of what you had wanted to say to him. Your eyes scanned the page, certain sentences catching your attention as you read it. 

“...and the way he held my neck when he first entered me, I think I’m in love.”

“He said it was his first time too. Does this mean something?”

“Jungkook, having you as my first… I want you to be my last. You looked at me as if the galaxies were reflected in my eyes. I want to feel the way you make me feel all the time. I hope that this does change things between us, but in a good way.”

You cringe a little, remembering how it didn’t turn out that way. Instead, after that night 5 years ago, you didn’t talk to Jungkook for a couple of days due to exam week. You texted him after your last test and he told you to come over; he wanted to talk to you about something too. But when you went to his dorm to see him and confess, you found him with Somin, your best friend at the time. They weren’t doing anything outrageous, just sitting on his twin bed in his dorm room talking, but you heard what she was saying through the door that was cracked.

Somin was confessing. You had no idea that she liked him too. It made your heart tight knowing that he had slept with you a week prior, and now your best friend was confessing to him. To be fair, neither of you had told the other about your feelings towards him. So instead of walking in and telling him how you felt, you left. He had texted you later asking what happened to you coming over but you lied, saying you had gotten busy. 

On the last day of the semester, Somin shared that she was dating Jungkook. Shocked and heartbroken, you wasted no time packing up your dorm for the summer and traveling home. Phone calls, texts, and plans to meetup became less frequent between your group of friends over the following semester until they eventually stopped. Did you stop talking to Jungkook and Somin… or was it them that stopped talking to you? 

Turning the pages, you move on from the thoughts of the photographer and stop at the next blank page. Grabbing a blue gel pen from the cup on your desk, you write with flair. 

Kim Namjoon.

How do I even begin to express how I feel about you? God, you make my heart flutter. I met you at a time when I needed someone. You were the bane of my existence at first, blasting your loud music from the apartment under mine. Going to yell at you turned out to be the best thing. You turned out to be the best thing. Of course, you had just started going out on dates with Jennie and you would be graduating a year ahead of me, but I knew that we would stay best friends. I mean, most BHSMA students intern at and get hired by the company. So for the longest time, I hid my feelings from you. That one night, before you and Jennie were exclusive… when we had sex, I thought my heart would burst. I never wanted a man so badly before that night. You are the moon in my sky, Kim Namjoon. What other body could pull an entire ocean from shore to shore? What other being could wrap me in love from beginning to end? Tonight you have just lost your moon. I am a terrible person because a part of me is happy to not be losing her moon. So now, I will climb into bed next to your sleeping body and hold you close as we sleep, and pray when the morning comes, in the light of the day, you will open your eyes and see me—the faint moon in the sky that has always been there for you. Maybe you will finally see me—and decide you want me too.

Setting the pen down, you reach for your phone. In your slightly drunken state, you decided to take pictures of each entry, in order to move these to a more secure environment and take your journal digital. You snapped a picture of each page (not that there were many) before you checked your phone for messages and plugged it in. You left your room to shut down all the lights now that Yuna was finished putting away her stuff and making her way to bed as well. 

“Hey, can I grab an extra notebook from your stash? I need to finish taking these notes on mixing hair colors.”

“Sure, it’s under the desk in the blue bin.”

She nodded and you continued past her, double checking the door to make sure it was locked before moving to throw Namjoon’s clothes into the dryer. Once satisfied that the house was in order, you went to your room. Yuna was standing over your desk, eyes reading your latest entry into the journal.

“Yuna! Get out!”

“This is beautiful though, he should see it. You need to tell him how you feel!” 

You shook your head.

“No. He just got his heart broken. It’s not the time to tell him.”

“You’re stubborn,” she whispered back at you, “you’re gonna lose him again!”

“Then that’s how it was destined to be. But I am not taking advantage of his vulnerable state.”

“You’re gonna be single forever. Spending every night with your baby sister, drinking wine because all the men you have ever loved have moved on!”

“Go to bed, Yuna!”

She shrugged as she walked out of the room, knowing that she was right. Deep down, a part of you felt like she was right too. 

Climbing into bed, you struggled to lift the covers over Namjoon’s slumbering frame before it pulled free and you could cover the two of you. As you settled into the bed next to him, he instinctively wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to his chest in his sleep. 

You knew that his dreams were imagining Jennie in his arms instead. 

—

That next morning, you checked Namjoon’s phone for his calendar. Having known him for several years, you know his passcode and that he keeps his work schedule exclusively on his cell. Typing in the code, 0613, you saw that his calendar stated that he didn’t need to go to the office until around noon. 

Lucky, you thought, eyeing the time on the phone. It was a little past 6:45am, and you had to wake your sister for her hands-on class before you got ready for the day. 

“Yuna! It’s almost 7,” you say as you knocked on her door and heard a muffled response. You headed back to your room and chose your outfit, knowing that the day would be busy and long with the concept photoshoot for SeoulM8 starting today. Choosing your outfit wisely, you climbed into the shower a few minutes later and spent at least a half hour just trying to cure the small hangover from the wine. 

Once dressed, you found Yuna packing her bag for class. It was getting close to 8, which is the latest that you could leave to be at work on time, so you wrote a quick note to Namjoon and ran back to leave it on the bed. His hand snaked out of the covers just as you were pulling your hand back, a gentle grip to your wrist holding you there.

“Y/N, thank you for last night.” His voice is like a bullfrog’s croak, and you chuckled. 

“Let me get you some water and some pain meds, okay? And of course Joonie, I’m here for you.” You leaned onto the bed with one knee, smoothing his hair back from his face once he’s released your wrist. “Always.”

Pressing your lips to his warm forehead, he pulled you down onto the bed with a hug and you can’t help but laugh.

“I’ve got to go! I’ll see you later, okay?” He nodded before he grips your neck, bringing his lips to your forehead this time. His lips linger longer than usual, and you shut your eyes at the tenderness of his kiss. 

“Go back to sleep, now.” You pulled away from him, going to grab the medicine and water before you and Yuna leave the apartment. 

—

You made it to work with extra time to make your coffee, so after you dropped off all of your extra stuff, you grabbed your tumbler and work tablet with all of your drawn designs for today’s shoot and made your way through the busy halls to the employee lounge. Today, the door was propped open for ease as it was a busier day in the building. 

You stood at the counter, stirring in the caramel creamer that you loved, when you felt a presence enter the room behind you.

“Y/N.”

Turning lazily, you cocked your eyebrow at Jungkook, who was standing awkwardly behind you. He had kicked the doorstop, allowing the door to close so that the two of you stood alone in the small staff kitchen. His hands were tucked into his joggers, while a white button down hung loosely from his frame. 

“Whats up JK?” You asked, expecting him to address something about the shoot. You hadn’t yet seen the men you were to dress, so you couldn’t fathom he was here to complain already about the costuming. “If it’s about the wardrobe, I haven’t even seen Tae or Jimin yet, so—”

“Actually, no. Um,” he rubbed the back of his neck before making eye contact with you, “I know that when we had sex that one time, it was great—”

Instantly, alarm bells went off in your head. What the actual fuck was Jungkook doing talking about the night you lost your virginity to each other?

“—but I just... don’t feel the same way that you do about me. You know? That was years ago, and yeah while it was just as good for me as it was for you, I’m not in love with you or anything, I just broke up with Somin too, so—”

“Jungkook! Wait—what are you talking about?”

“The text you sent me.”

“Jungkook, I haven’t texted you in weeks.” You looked down at the phone you had pulled out of the back pocket of your ripped black jeans, and opened up the messages. You noticed his text thread was now at the top. “Wait, what?”

Opening his specific thread you see the screenshot of the page from your journal that you took last night, sent to him. How the fuck did this happen? In your drunken state, did you send it to him? You begin to ramble as you throw the spoon in the sink with a loud clunk and begin screwing the lid on the coffee.

“Jungkook, stop. That was from a long time ago, it’s not recent at all, oh my god. I am so sorry you had to read that—you know what, I’m just gonna head to the set now. Okay, bye!” You breezed past him, feet carrying you out of the employee lounge with a swiftness. Once back in your office you stared at the horrid message, outraged at yourself for your drunken antics.

Drunk you must really hate sober you.

—

Work was just as hectic as you thought it was going to be. After the most embarrassing morning, you were summoned right away to a last minute meeting with Jimin and Tae, where you made minor changes to their wardrobe. 

“Y/N, you were always good at this in school, but damn. You are amazing now.” Jimin stared at you reflected in the mirror after you had turned his outfit into something fit for the concept with a few movements of the material that wrapped his body. Park Jimin, one of the few people you were still somewhat close with from that first year of school, was now a big shot idol, and one-half of SeoulM8. Kim Taehyung, his best friend, was the other part of the duo. He had met him after everyone split off after that first year. Going by the stage names Jimin and V, the two had met in their vocal lesson classes when Taehyung had switched his major, and BigHit saw potential in them. 

You walked with Jimin towards the set of the photo shoot, one of the bigger production rooms today due to the use of the second level. They would be posing next to a hole in the floor, feathers falling around them. Taehyung was already antsy to get started, and was playing around with Somin, who was one of the group’s managers, while he waited for Jimin to arrive back to the set. Now, it looked like the only person missing was the photographer. 

Walking to the fold out table set up at the back wall, you heard your phone chime. Opening to your messages, you saw a text from someone you hadn’t talked to in a while. 

“Seo Joon?” You question quietly to yourself, but before you could even read the message, you saw a similarly embarrassing photo above his reply.

“Oh God, oh God...” You clicked out of his message thread, ignoring the reply because you honestly didn’t care. What you actually cared about was if you had somehow sent the most recent entry of your journal to the last person on Earth who was ready to read it. Namjoon.

“Fuck. Oh no. Oh no.” Sitting there, you saw the message clear as day with the small read receipt that it indeed had been read by him. The door to the set opened and Jungkook came waltzing through with his assistant. Before the door had a chance to swing closed all the way, you saw Namjoon’s form enter the room. 

“Alright, let’s get started!” Jungkook’s voice was loud and called everyone’s attention except for Namjoon. His eyes were on you. He beelined your way, and you readied yourself to apologize to him, but before either of you could say anything, Jungkook interrupted.

“Hey Joon, good to see you hyung! I’m so sorry though, we got a closed set and need to get started… tight time schedule and all.”

“I just need to talk to Y/N.”

Jungkook took in Namjoon’s demeanor; eyes red, hair disheveled, voice wobbly. It was so unlike Namjoon to look this way that Jungkook looked at you before speaking. Your expression was confusing to Jungkook, as he knew Namjoon was your best friend. Your eyes were wide in fear with tears forming… when you didn’t say a word, Jungkook took charge. A part of him saw that fear in your eyes and wanted to protect you.

“Look Joon-hyung, normally I wouldn’t mind, but we need Y/N on set the entire time today. Wardrobe is important for concept photos, you can understand right? Maybe at break time or something?”

Namjoon nodded as Jungkook’s arm wrapped around your waist and he led you away from the table and back towards where the staging was set. When you finally chanced a look back, you saw the assistants leading Namjoon and a few other non-essential workers out of the room. Everyone else on set had watched the exchange between the three of you, including Somin. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the way Jungkook’s fingers curled around your frame.

At break time, you hid out, avoiding Namjoon who had, reluctantly, waited several hours until break was called. He would have to go into the studio soon, which you knew since you saw his calendar, and after the short 30 minute break, Jungkook retrieved you from the small side room you were hiding in when they resumed the next set of shots using black leather and wings. 

The shoot kept your thoughts off of the incident, as you so aptly decided to call it in your head, until it was time to leave. You walked out with a large group, stealthily making it to your office. You sat on the floor with your back to the door, reviewing how many received these drunken messages of yours, happy to see that only 3 actually went through, since most of them were no longer in your phone anymore or had changed their numbers. 

Park Seo Joon, an ex from your second year at BHSMA, had moved to Japan for work, and while he did respond, he figured it was a mistake and as the smart person he was, he noticed the date in the corner and was aware that it was old. You breathed a sigh of relief, glad to have avoided that potentially awkward scenario.

Hearing your phone ping, you checked the message and saw it was Jungkook. A series of messages came in from him, and you read them in succession.

Shaking your head, you stand, grabbing the white outfits from the rack an assistant had brought in earlier after the set change. Throwing them over your arm, you head off to the set in a rush, shooting back a quick text to let him know you were coming.

Most everyone from earlier was back on set, expressions showcasing various stages of irritation. You handed the clothing to an unusually quiet Somin, and lifted your now free arm to wave at the artists. Somin walked away, throwing quiet looks over at you and Jungkook, who you were standing near now that you had approached the table. Jungkook was leaning on that same table, arms crossed as he reviewed the printout of what was needed.

“You know they sent us an updated list 2 hours after we started shooting? While we were all here, they thought that we could somehow read their minds. Then when I uploaded and sent the file over to have them double check, they responded that we had to finish it tonight.”

“It’s annoying for sure, JK, but you know Jimin and Tae will deliver. Once they’re dressed I bet we’ll be done in like 15 minutes, max.”

He nodded, smiling at your optimism.

“Hey, are you gonna tell me what earlier was about? With Namjoon hyung?”

You froze, not expecting the question, but you were saved from having to answer right then, since Namjoon walked in at that moment. It was too late for you to go anywhere; you were standing too close to the door, trapped between the table and Namjoon, who looked hurt. Jungkook read the situation and took several steps away to give you some privacy with Namjoon. 

“You’ve been avoiding me all day. After that message—did you think that I wouldn’t read it? I just broke up with Jennie, Y/N, it’s… I’m not… You can’t just say this shit to me right now.”

“Namjoon—I didn’t mean to, I was drunk and I promise you it’s not what you think, I don’t feel that way, okay?” You try and take it all back, wishing more than anything that he hadn’t read what you had written the previous night. 

“You don’t feel that way? Are you kidding me? I read it!”

“No, I don’t feel that way, okay? I’m with someone else.” You lied. You hoped that he would buy it.

“Y/N, I’m your best friend. Don’t you think I would know?”

“Yeah, you're my best friend, but you and Jennie are always together, it’s been forever since we actually caught up, so yes, it’s recent okay?”

“Who are you dating then?”

You say the first name that popped into your head. The person closest to you.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“I don’t believe it.” His words come out harsh, and a part of you, the part that already feels like shit because Namjoon chose to be with Jennie a couple of years ago, lashes out in hurt.

“Why? Cause someone like him could never date someone like me?”

“Yes, Y/N. You guys are too different!” His voice was getting louder, and you knew that you had to do something in order to get him to believe your lie. So you do the only thing you can think of in your heated state. You take the several steps needed to cross the space between you and Jungkook, who looked up from where he was absorbed into his phone. 

“You ready?” he asked, looking down at your small frame. 

“Yeah baby, I’m ready.” Your hand snaked behind his head, and firmly grasping his neck, you leaned up on tiptoes as you pulled his mouth toward yours. You kissed him, and in his surprise, his free hands gripped your waist and he pulled you closer to him, before you were separating from him, slightly breathless. His grip tightened before it rested gently on your hip and you settled back onto your heels. 

You see the back of Namjoon’s coat trail behind him as he disappeared out the doors, pulling them shut loudly behind him.

You look back up at Jungkook, whose fingers squeeze your sides quickly to grab your attention.

“You’re definitely gonna have to explain after that kiss... baby.” 

—

Later that evening, you sat with Jungkook in his car. A black Mercedes Benz GT63S to be exact, with dark grey leather and a small bit of wood grain along the spacious dashboard. Your fingers trailed along the wood grain as you explained to Jungkook what happened, starting with the accidental drunk text messages, leading up to the reason behind your kiss. 

“So now what?” Jungkook asks, looking sideways over at you.

“I don’t know. I feel so stupid.”

“Look, Y/N… I think this could be mutually beneficial.”

You meet his eyes, a look of incredulity across your face.

“Please explain Jeon.”

“Look, earlier when I stepped in and kicked hyung off set, Somin was already eyeing the way we were behaving. She may or may not have texted me about it. Of course, I told her we were broken up, so she didn’t need to concern herself with my business. And then, when we came back to set, she made a face when they asked me to text you to come back too.” He smirked.

“I may or may not have peeped it, and may or may not have used it to my advantage. Of course, you kissing me definitely helped.” He glanced down at his phone as it lit up. Once again a message from Somin tiled above 17 other messages from her. He had been actively ignoring them while the two of you talked.

“So I say that we date.”

“We what?”

“Date. I can teach Somin a lesson about how to treat me and you can keep hyung off your back.”

“Teach Somin? I thought she broke up with you?”

“It was mutual. But this always happens. And I for one am tired of the back and forth. So this can teach her that other people want me, and I can move on, or she can stop with the drama and we stop breaking up every other week.”

You nodded. It sounded like a feasible plan, and you told him as much.

“So it’s agreed. We’re now together.”

“Not so fast, Jeon… I think we should have a backstory, get some things straight, set some rules.”

“Rules, Y/N? You sure know how to take the fun out of it.”

You rolled your eyes.

“When did we start dating?” you asked, ignoring his snide comment.

“We got together… at the beginning of the week. Somin and I broke up 2 weeks ago, though we didn’t make it public because she always does this shit...” he trailed off, before smiling back at you. “So yeah, let’s say we’ve been talking here and there everytime me and Somin would break up, and then we went on a couple dates during that first week we broke up and made it exclusive this week.”

You commit this to memory, then pull out your tablet and begin jotting it down with the stylus.

“Okay, so this is new, but we’ve been on each other’s radar for a bit. I think that’s believable, especially since we’ve known each other just as long as you and Somin have. How do you plan to make her jealous? It has to seem real, you know?”

“Trust me, she already thinks this is real,” he nods to his phone again, now at 28 unread messages from Somin, “so I think something that we can do is start arriving together. Maybe do little things for each other that are cute coupley things, be seen together. Kiss at work. Maybe I can sleep over a few nights or you at mine?” He winks at you.

“I thought you didn’t see me that way, Jeon.” You looked down at the tablet, furiously scribbling what he said in order to avoid looking at him and showing the way he caused your cheeks to warm.

“I said I wasn’t in love with you, babe, not that I wasn’t interested in sleeping with you again.”

“Yeah, well that’s off the table Jeon. This isn’t real.”

He just wagged his eyebrows at you seductively, but you laughed and moved on from it, reviewing the list you wrote out.

You made sure to underline number seven so he could see it easily. 

“And when does this end?” You asked.

“Um, I don’t know. I guess we just play it by ear. Let it be natural. Obviously not too early or too late, and it should be mutual. I mean, if Somin learns her lesson, we would obviously have to end things, but I don’t see that happening sooner than a month.”

“Okay,” you tilt your head, thoughtfully, “So we can re-examine this in like a month then.”

“So is this like a contract or what?” he jokes. “Want me to sign it?”

“Sure,” you say, playing along and offering him the stylus. He took it from your hand and signed his signature, and then handed you back the pen, gesturing for you to sign as well. You followed suit, a quiet chuckle as you saved the page to your tablet’s files.

“Wanna drive me home, boyfriend?”

—

Dating Jungkook was… interesting, to say the least. You were a little surprised when he texted you the next morning asking what your coffee order was, and you weren’t expecting him to be so punctual when he pulled up to your apartment. But as you and Yuna exited the apartment that morning, he was already parked at the curb, music a little too loud for the early morning transit, but you were thankful nonetheless. 

“Why are you taking us?” Yuna asked in her very blunt manner. She, of course, had heard of Jungkook, more so due to your falling out with Somin, but Jungkook took her question in stride.

“Because I’m dating your sister.” 

He handed you an iced caramel latte with a soft smile that you couldn’t help but return. Jungkook looked stunningly handsome, hair floofed to your desired preference and an all black outfit to match. His pants were the perfect fit to his well-toned body and the black bomber jacket gave him a bad boy edge that was softened by his doe eyes.

Yuna coughed, choking on her strawberry flavored poptart as you turned to look out the window. Yuna, seated behind you, hit the back of your seat.

“You’re dating him? And you didn’t tell me?”

“I wanted to be sure it was going to work out this time… He and his ex used to be on and off a lot and I didn’t want to tell you if they got back together.” You answer, mixing the truth into it.

“Ohhhh, I see. You a player Jeon? Gonna break my sister’s heart?” Yuna eyed him, pupils narrowed as they stared at him. 

He cleared his throat, not expecting to have to defend himself against the small pitbull in the backseat.

“Not planning on it, Yuna.” Jungkook reached over and took your hand into his large one, interlocking your fingers before he kissed the back of your hand sweetly as he released the brakes and pulled off. 

Walking into the BigHit building, Jungkook held the door open for you before placing his hand in the back pocket of your black skinny jeans as you walked to the elevator. You wore a black knit sweater that fell slightly off the shoulder, and you knew it looked like you two had coordinated outfits. His other hand held the strap of the backpack he had slung over his shoulder while you clutched your coffee and your bag. 

You started to walk off towards your office once you made it to your floor, but Jungkook’s hand on your ass pulled you back towards him. He leaned down to your ear, whispering quietly.

“Where are you off too in such a hurry?”

“Um, my office… why?”

“Come with me to mine first, let me drop off my bag and I'll walk you back.”

“Oh-kay?” 

Letting his pocketed hand guide you, you fell in step with him down the hallway. You passed several other people, including Jin, an actor signed to the company who was known for his gossip, who nodded their hellos to Jungkook before ducking their heads together or reaching for their phones. It felt like high school all over again. Jungkook removed his hand from the warmth of your ass in order to open his office door, to which he then pulled you inside. Closing the door, he backed you into it rather loudly. The windows in the door are frosted, but you knew that pressed to it like this, anyone who looked could see your outline against it. 

Jungkook pushed his body into yours, lips following suit as his hands found purchase on your hips. He kissed you languidly, the mint from his toothpaste clashed with your coffee, though not unpleasant. You kissed him back, enjoying the feel of his soft pout as it glided to your neck. He wasted no time in latching on, suckling your neck for a few seconds before he pulled away with a loud smacking noise. 

“I must say, we put on quite the show this morning. My roommate was out there, and he will definitely have everyone talking about our PDA.” He grinned, eyes still glued to your neck. “Once that hickey sets in, it will really be the talk of the town.”

You blinked, finally coming back to your senses. Of course. This was all a part of the plan. Jungkook stepped away from you, moving to put away his belongings in his office. You stepped away from the door, looking around as you willed your body to cool down. That kiss had been quite an experience, and you yourself had gotten carried away with the plan. 

Turning on the spot, you notice all the different camera equipment lining the walls, the beautiful still photography of various buildings throughout the city, but the most surprising was a photo from the first year you had all met. The picture had you, Jungkook, Somin, Jimin, and a few other friends in it; smiles wide as you stood at the fairgrounds you attended, ferris wheel lighting up the sky behind you. You walked towards it, taking in how carefree you looked, arms wrapped around Jungkook’s waist and his arms thrown over your and Somin’s shoulders, who was making the peace sign with both hands at her eyes. Jimin was making a silly face, arm wrapped around Somin’s waist. Simpler times.

You moved on, turning to the small polaroid camera and you couldn’t help but grab it. Turning, you snapped a photo of Jungkook, who was caught off guard. You took the developing film from the camera and set it down on his desk as he smiled at you.

“Hmm, that’s a good idea. Let me take a few photos of you, I can place them around my office.”

You tried to reject his idea, but he takes the photos anyways, pinching your cheeks and tickling you until he gets what he wants. Finally, 6 clicks later, he stood next to you, facing the camera to the two of you before he said your name softly. You looked up at him, and he surprised you with a kiss. That 7th click captured a kiss, and he placed that one in the back of his phone case.

“You are such a… a lover, Jeon.” You say, pointing at his phone. He shrugged, ignoring your jab.

“It’s something Somin always wanted me to do… I never did though. So seeing this will piss her off.”

You nodded, understanding. Everything he did had a purpose for getting at Somin in some way, shape, or form. You chided yourself that you would do well to remember that. 

—

Lunch was a whole new ball game. Used to sitting with Namjoon and Jennie, or some of your assistants, you were now eating lunch with Jungkook, who ate in the employee cafeteria. You followed his request to meet him there and stood in the doorway lost until you heard his voice call out to you.

Noting his waving hand, you wove through the circular tables until you reached the one he was at with Jimin, Taehyung, Jin, and Yoongi, a producer friend that you knew through Namjoon.

All of the seats were taken, but before you could stand there looking out of place, Jungkook scooted his chair out and all but pulled you onto his lap. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he nuzzled into your neck, breathing in your clean scented perfume and strawberry shampoo.

“Get a room, JK.” Yoongi said, face contorted with a mock look of disgust.

“What? She’s just so cute and warm.” His fingers drifted towards the hem of your sweater and disappeared up into the material, cold fingers pressed against the soft skin of your belly and you shivered with a giggle, pushing his ice box hands away.

“You’re cold as fuck, Jesus Jeon! Were you hanging out in a freezer?”

“You could say that...” Taehyung laughed while elbowing Jimin, and you raised an eyebrow at them, wanting in on the joke, too.

“He was reviewing pictures with us and our managers.” Jimin clarified, and you nodded. 

“I take it that Somin wasn’t very warm?” You asked, leaning more into Jungkook.

“Not at all,” Tae disclosed, “she was very icy, had a lot to say about our dear JK over here, didn’t she?”

“Nothing we haven't heard before.” Jimin answered, and the two laughed, but you didn’t find it all that funny. Hearing that Somin trash talked Jungkook to his friends while working didn’t sound like the kind of person anyone would want to date. 

“Well she can talk shit all she wants, she’s just mad he’s moved on.” You defended, and are surprised to hear a quiet ‘thank you’ just for your ears as Jungkook tightened his hold briefly.

“I really dislike that girl,” Jin said, “I for one will be glad to not see her trashy ass around the apartment anymore. You are a breath of fresh air, Y/N.”

You smile shyly at Jin, enjoying how well everyone seemed to have welcomed you into their group.

“So, Y/N, we were just talking about the party Yoongi was throwing. He and Hobi live together, and they’re throwing a small rager this weekend. You’re coming with JK, right?”

Oh, this was not something you were expecting. You hadn’t gone to a party with co-workers in a long time…

“Um—”

“Of course she’ll be there, she’s coming with me. Right, babe?” Jungkook’s doe eyes looked up at you and you couldn’t say no. It’s not like you had plans anyways. You nodded and smiled at him, and he leaned into you, lips seeking yours in a quick kiss. You feel your body react to it, like it had been doing since this started, and pulled back before he could turn it X-rated. 

“Okay, seriously you two, get a room.”

—

Standing in the mirror in your bedroom, you turned from side to side to take in your outfit. As a head wardrobe stylist, you had a pretty good sense of fashion, but liked to stick to basic pieces and blacks, dressing up your look with delicate jewelry or layered pieces. 

Tonight was no different. With the beginnings of winter creeping in, you wanted to be comfortable in the weather once the sun set. You had on black sheer leggings that disappeared into a cute black skirt with thin white lines that had a revealing thigh split. Your top was an asymmetrical design, having one long sleeve and turning into a bandeau style on the other side. You paired it with black velvet boots that had crisp white laces, then finished the look with a matching set of simple dangling skinny diamond earrings, bracelet, and necklace. 

Despite this thing with Jungkook being fake, you wanted him to still feel proud to showcase you on his arm at this party. People were already talking about the two of you, and tonight would fuel the gossip even more. You were nervous of course, knowing who typically attended these types of parties, but Jungkook had assured you that he would keep you safe tonight.

The polite knock on your bedroom door had you turn your head to the sound, a tossed “come in” over your shoulder to who you thought was Yuna, but revealed a very handsome looking Jungkook, who was in his typical all black attire. You stood there, body warming as you took in his height, broad shoulders, and long legs. 

“Wow.” 

His voice was low, but his eyes looked like they sparkled as he took you in. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Jeon,” you responded, reaching to grab your bag off of your bed.

Jungkook snapped out of the daze he was in and pulled his phone out of his pocket. 

“Let’s take a photo for the ‘gram.”

You nodded; for a second you thought he wanted to have a photo of you because you looked good. Posing in the mirror, he pulled you close by your waist and adjusted his phone to capture both of you in the frame. He took a few photos, switching poses slightly each time.

“Hey,” he said, gaining your attention. You turned to him, shocked when his lips met yours. You melt easily into the kiss, hearing the camera shutter click several times as you tangled tongues, his hand sliding from your waist to cup your butt and pull you closer. You were unable to stop the moan from his action, and when he pulled away, lips a bit fuller and pinker from kissing, he quirked his eyebrow at you, paired with his signature smirk.

“Y-You messed up my lip gloss,” you fake huffed, turning away from him to rummage through your bag to grab your gloss and reapply. Your attempt to avoid him from seeing the way he affected you didn’t go unnoticed, but Jungkook kept quiet on it.

“It was worth it, these pics are hot. Plus, you taste good. What flavor is that?”

“Strawberry,” you mumbled, still feeling the heat from the kiss warm your neck and face.

“Strawberry is slowly becoming my new favorite.”

—

Yoongi and Hobi knew how to throw a party. The music was playing at the perfect level that you could still hear people talking to you, a variety of alcoholic beverages were supplied in ample amounts, and several games were being held in various rooms of their home. 

Currently, you were seated on the couch with a few other women from the office. Unfortunately, one of them was Somin. Across the room, your ‘boyfriend’ was engaged in a game of beer pong against Taehyung and Jimin. They had challenged him solo, citing he was good at everything and didn’t need a partner. As you watched him toss the small ping pong balls into the same cup, you knew their concern was right. 

“Y/N, you and Jeon?” Seline, one of the girls seated next to you, asked suggestively.

“Yea,” you giggled, the cup of something or other making you a little... giggly.

“Color me a little surprised. He’s like, such a social butterfly, and you’re...” 

“Oh, Y/N used to be a social butterfly, but she thought she was too good for us back in college.” Somin piped up. 

Her statement caught you off guard. Somin was once your best friend, but when she started dating Jungkook, she had distanced herself from you, not the other way around. 

“I never thought that. Some people act differently once they start dating people though. I never changed.” You sat back with a huff, crossing your arms. She ruined the buzz the alcohol had given you. 

Seline leaned closer to you, interested to hear more. The other’s seated nearby also tuned in with interest.

“Oh, you knew them in college?” 

You nodded, and Somin got up and walked away from the couch, seemingly annoyed at the attention you were getting for being Jungkook’s new girl.

You told the brief backstory of your friendship, leaving out the obvious part of losing virginities and finding out your best friend confessed to Jungkook when you were on your way to do the same thing, but ending it on good terms, saying that it was just the process of naturally growing apart. 

Seline nodded, and you saw her eyes widen as she looked past you. Following her gaze, your eyes narrowed at the view. Somin was all over Jungkook. You weren’t exaggerating; both of her hands were holding on to him as if she was too drunk to maintain her balance. She was falling into his arms and he was holding her, one of his large hands pushing her hair back from her face and a look of concern etched upon his own. 

Two feelings hit you at once. Nausea at the sight of him looking so tenderly at her, simultaneous with a boiling fury of jealousy that it wasn’t you. 

“Looks like Somin wants him back.” Seline snickered towards the other girls, and you stood up abruptly. You made eye contact with Jimin, who’s eyes were unnaturally large as he registered the scene before him.

Jimin was relieved that Somin interrupted the end of the game so that he could escape before he had to drink more, but he also felt annoyed seeing her all over Jungkook. Jimin had been glad when Jungkook told him and Tae that he was done with Somin; even more glad when he heard that Jungkook started seeing you. 

Back in college, Jimin was the only person, other than you and Jungkook, who knew what happened between you two. Both of you had confided in him your actions and feelings for one another. Color him surprised when he found out that Jungkook was not dating you, but instead your best friend, Somin. He wasn’t sure what happened but soon after, you stopped being around as much and Somin was around all the time. 

Watching Somin pretend to be too drunk to function and fall all over Jungkook made Jimin purposefully search the room for you. Watching you stand, drink clutched in your hand, Jimin had a feeling something was about to happen.

The drink you were nursing was downed in its entirety within a single swallow. You were now several drinks in, and you were feeling the alcohol start to hit as you stood up fast. Pushing your shoulders back, you walked over towards your ‘boyfriend’, whose back was turned towards you, and slid your arm around his waist.

“Heyyy babe,” you leaned into his body, staking claim on Jungkook as you stared daggers at Somin. She had taken a few steps back when you had approached, but now, seeing the challenge in your eyes, she stepped closer once more.

“Ggukk-ah, I don’t feel so well...”

“Min,” Jungkook stepped out of your hold, hands moving to cup Somin’s face as she feigned weakness in her knees. The level of concern in his voice let you know exactly how he felt. You scoffed, not believing Jungkook would behave this way in front of everyone. He was the one who had came up with this idea for ‘mutual benefit’ and here he was fucking it all up.

“She’s fine, babe. She can handle her alcohol.” You felt yourself growing hotter, the alcohol actually having an effect on you, as it always had. Your increasing body temperature only made you more frustrated.

“Seriously Gguk, I’m getting so hot...” Somin reached for the hem of her shirt, and in one fell swoop she had exposed the lacey bra she wore underneath. You could hear people talking over the sound of the music, taking in the scene of a shirtless ex making a brazen show.

“Jungkook!” Your voice is no more than a harsh whisper, but he’s so scandalized at Somin’s action, the protective boyfriend in him coming out to aid in shielding her body from onlookers, he doesn’t hear you. 

You hate the sick feeling bubbling in your stomach, unsure if it's from watching your ‘man’ flirt with his half naked ex or if it’s from the alcohol not sitting right with you.

Throwing the scene one last look, you turned on your heels and headed off to the kitchen for a bottle of water, or perhaps, another cup of something stronger.

Walking past him and Taehyung, Jimin caught sight of the look on your face before you blew past on your way towards the kitchen and he knew he should warn his friend.

“Jungkook, hey.. Jungkook!” Jimin yelled, his voice louder the second time he called his name. 

Jungkook had been leaning towards Somin, hands cradling her face as he continued to speak quietly to her. When he looked up at Jimin, his face appeared slightly annoyed at the interruption as he was taking care of her.

“What, bro?”

“Um, your girlfriend? Y/N? She just went into the kitchen and she looked a little upset.” Jimin said, his face trying to communicate to Jungkook what it looked like that he was holding his ex that way and his new girlfriend had stormed off. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Jimin, can you?” Jungkook gestured his head towards the kitchen and Jimin thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head.

“How about I take Somin and you go find Y/N? Your girlfriend. Remember?”

Jungkook paused for a millisecond before depositing Somin into Jimin’s arms. He made his way to the kitchen, where he found you engaged in taking shots with Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jin, the latter of which was shit talking Somin with a smile. When you felt his presence enter the kitchen, you ignored him, gesturing for your now fourth shot in as many minutes.

Sensing the tension, Yoongi decided against more shots, instead leading Hobi and Jin out of the kitchen, much to Jin’s complaints of having to be around the ‘trashy tramp’. The three headed back to the party, a bottle tucked under Yoongi’s arm as Hobi carried the shot glasses out. 

“We were enjoying our new friend, JK. Stop keeping her to yourself,” Jin said with a drunken glare. 

Sighing audibly, you turned to walk out of the kitchen but Jungkook’s grasp on your wrist stopped you.

“Hey, why are you ignoring me like this?” He asked, confusion tinting his voice.

“Um, maybe because you’re supposed to be dating me and you were too busy with Somin to remember you even had a girlfriend.” You said back harshly, spitting the words at him with such vehemence you wobbled precariously on your heels.

“Come here.” Jungkook said, dragging you behind him through the bodies in the hallway until you had made it into one of the unoccupied back bedrooms. Shutting the door, he turned to you as he dragged his hand through his hair. The action only made him more handsome, tousled hair falling gently to frame his face.

“Look, it’s... complicated with Somin right now.”

“I get that you’re trying to teach her a lesson, see if you want to be with her or whatever, but not at my expense. You said mutually beneficial. Making me look like your second choice and embarrassing me does not benefit me.”

During your speech, you poked him in the chest several times, the alcohol starting to take its effect on you. Stumbling slightly, Jungkook caught you to steady you, keeping his hands on your waist. The warmness of his palms felt nice as he helped keep you balanced.

“You’re right, Y/N. I’m sorry. Like I said, it’s complicated. We dated for a long time. I still care for her. She’s... been making this difficult.”

“Oh? Difficult how? By faking being drunk so you can take care of her?”

“She’s a lightweight, that’s not fake,” he defended.

You were once close enough with Somin to know that she was not a lightweight, since she had been drinking at parties since she was 14; her earlier interaction was indeed, all an act.

“Whatever, Jungkook. So what is she doing that’s so difficult?” you asked, cutting him a look of narrowed eyes until he answered you.

He walked backwards, tugging you gently along until he was seated on the bed. You stood between his parted knees, waiting patiently for his answer. Realizing you weren’t going to drop it, he rubbed the back of his neck gingerly.

“She’s, you know.. She still texts me all the time, saying shit and sending pics and stuff. She says she wants me back, but I just,” he looked up at you, his doe eyes unable to hide his emotions.

“I don’t know if I believe it. I want to. But she’s hurt me, and I’m tired of it. I want her to feel how I felt.”

Your ire towards him faded as he opened up to you. Cupping his face gently, you leaned in and rubbed his nose with yours softly back and forth.

“You’re amazing Jungkook. Until tonight, you’ve treated me like a princess the entire week we’ve been dating. But she won’t learn if you give in. You’ve got me now, okay? When she texts you, text me instead. Don’t entertain her. She’ll think I’m not enough for you if you keep responding, and that doesn’t show her you can move on.”

You had sunk into him the whole time you talked to him, and he shifted your body so you were now straddled over his lap, head resting on his shoulder. You yawned sleepily, the loss of the anger leaving you feeling the tired effects of the alcohol. Unlike Somin, you were a lightweight, and 3 shots was over your limit.

As you got comfortable on Jungkook, he thought over what you said, smoothing your hair carefully.

“You’re right. You always were so smart in school... ” Jungkook said, and you nodded your head on his shoulder in agreement, humming an affirmative.

“Let’s get you home though, you’re halfway to passing out anyways.” Pulling out his phone, he ordered an Uber. He held you like that, your strawberry scent surrounding him until the Uber driver was outside. His hands gripping you under your thighs, he stood up and carried you out of the party, nodding bye to his friends and hosts of the party.

Placing you into the Uber, he climbed in after you and you curled into his lap, seeking his warmth in your drunken half-slumber. Jungkook chuckled, noticing the way his chest reacted to the action but ignored it. This was an arrangement, you seeking him out wasn’t real, and your anger earlier wasn’t jealousy, he told himself. You were worried about being embarrassed. He still loved and wanted to get back with Somin, right? 

As he looked down at you in his lap, enjoying the weight of you pressed against his body, he wasn’t so sure. 

“This the correct address, sir?” The Uber driver asked, verifying with Jungkook once he shut the SUV door.

“Yea, both of us are headed there.”

—

The weekend passed by fast. Waking up at Jungkook’s place Sunday morning had been a little shocking, but his bed was soft and clean, and smelled of him. You had snuggled deeper into the sheets until he woke you up to go get breakfast and get his car from Yoongi’s place. He detailed to you what had transpired to you being in his bed, expressed that he had not taken advantage of you, per rule number 7, plus the basic concept of consent, and promised to take you home as soon as Jin was awake and could take the two of you to go get his car. 

He gave you some clothes to change into, and while you weren’t surprised to find he had jeans to fit you, neither one of you asked or shared the obvious: they were Somin’s. At least the shirt he gave you was his, and you also stole a hoodie to wear. December may have only just started a week ago, but the cold was pervasive.

Breakfast with him was fun. Getting to know Jungkook again was just as exhilarating as it had been the first time, during that first year at BHSMA. He had changed, but in a good way. More mature, but still playful. An adult who was a hotshot photographer, but still humble and considerate. How someone could be built like that and have such a big soft heart was beyond you. 

The trip to get his car was slightly awkward, as Jin, Jungkook’s very nosy roommate, commented on how bad drunk sex must be with Jungkook if you were able to keep so quiet. 

“Somin was always so loud, I swear she was exaggerating. No one’s dick is that good; sorry JK.”

Once Jin dropped the two of you off at Yoongi and Hobi’s, it ended up turning into hanging out with them for a bit, talking about work and your relationship with Jungkook. Hobi swooned with oohs and ahhs while Yoongi cringed, faking disgust at such a cute story, as was his trademark. 

Jungkook apologized once the two of you escaped to his car, for both Jin being cringey, and for staying longer than anticipated with Yoongi and Hoseok, but you weren’t mad. You enjoyed meeting his friends and getting to know them. You were only a little concerned because Yoongi was also friends with Namjoon, who worked in the same department as him.

Jungkook turned to you before you climbed out of the car, not wanting to say goodbye just yet, but unable to think of a reason to get you to stay. Afterall, the relationship was fake. 

“Hey, thanks for your advice last night.”

“Honestly, I barely remember what it was, but if it helped you, I’m glad.” You smiled at him, and he had to blink a few times to remember what else he wanted to say.

“So, um—I was thinking we could go on, like, a formal date Monday? After work? Monday should be a chill day. I know the comeback is planned for January, so going out sooner than later is best, right? Get it out of the way? That way we won’t forget, and we won’t be too busy with work to try and squeeze it in, and—” 

Jungkook knew he was rambling, feeling nervous despite it being you, someone he had known for several years now. For fucks sake, he’s seen you naked. He felt his cock twitch and internally scolded himself. This was not the time for remembering the way you felt beneath him, the sweet sounds he had pulled from you as he learned your body, shared with you in giving each other your virginities. 

When his cock twitched again, he took a deep breath and tried to focus on your answer.

“You okay, Jeon?” you asked, noticing he had zoned out slightly.

“Yeah... ” he responded, shifting as if uncomfortable.

“Well, I said I would love to go on a date with you. What did you have planned?”

“It’s a surprise. Just dress for the weather.”

You nodded thoughtfully, a small smile gracing your face as you gathered your purse and stepped back out of the doorway of his car to shut it. He rolled the window down, smiling back at you.

“Can’t wait,” you say, standing outside his car on the sidewalk through the rolled down window, waving your fingers at him cutely.

Jungkook’s signature smile spread across his face as he winked at you just before he pulled off, turning his music up loud as he whipped his Benz out of your complex. 

—

Now sitting at your desk, you clicked through the selected shots that Jungkook emailed you of the photo shoot from last week as you reminisced on the weekend. You were supposed to be checking the outfits, detailing the different designers for the credits. But your thoughts kept drifting to Jungkook, and what should have easily been a 15 minute task took 45. 

Finally sending the email, you stood to stretch when a loud knock announced a visitor. Walking to the frosted door of your office, you opened it and revealed a large bouquet of tiger lilies. 

“Delivery for Y/N Y/L/N,” Kim, one of your assistants sing-songed as she walked into the room.

“Where did you get this? And why?” You searched the flowers until you found the card inside.

“I’m not supposed to give any details other than to read the note!” She pranced away, a smug smile on her face for knowing the secret you wanted to know.

Opening the envelope, a small polaroid fell out, fluttering to the ground. You picked it up, noting the image of a small park nearby. At the bottom, in Jungkook’s neat writing was a time. 2:30PM. Glancing at the clock, you see that the time listed is in roughly 15 minutes, so you gathered your purse, plucked a flower from the bouquet and headed out to meet Jungkook.

Walking into the elevator, Namjoon suddenly entered just before the doors shut, trapping you inside with him.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He asked. You studied him, momentarily at a loss for words at his ambush.

“Joonie, I—I’m not avoiding you. I’ve just been busy...”

“Too busy for your best friend? Jennie left me, and now I feel like I’m losing you too.”

Hearing his voice crack as he mentioned his ex hurts you more than you let him know. In all of the panic of the secret sex journal being released and fake dating Jungkook, you had forgotten what Namjoon had been going through.

“I promise, you’re not losing me, Joonie. You’re my best friend. I’m sorry that I haven’t been acting like it. I swear, I have been busy.”

“Yeah, busy going to parties with your new boyfriend. I saw him carrying your wasted ass out of Yoongi’s house.” Namjoon sounded a little irritated as he spoke.

“Listen, it’s complicated.. Can we talk about this later, please? It’s not a conversation for the elevator.”

“Okay, where are you going? I’ll go with you.” The doors opened and you both stepped out, Namjoon following you like a lifeline.

“Joonie, I—Look, I’m going on a date with Jungkook, I’m sorry!” you halted your steps and explained to him as a look of hurt flashed across his face.

“You know what? Forget it. Hit me up when you remember your best friend, if I’m even that.”

Namjoon walked away from you, ignoring you as you called after him. You sighed, giving up as he disappeared around a corner of the lobby, guests and coworkers looking at the exchange with interest.

You rubbed your temples and took a deep breath before braving the cold to walk to Ttukseom Park.

The walk was surprisingly pleasant. Despite the temperature, the sun was warm on your face whenever you were able to evade the shade along the sidewalk. It may have been the very beginnings of winter, but the scenery was anything but the cold melancholy you tended to associate with this time of the year.

The grass was vibrant still, and as you made it to the spot that matched the small photo you still had clutched in your hand, you noticed how the butterfly art installation along the wall of the J-Bug Cultural Complex glittered in the sunlight seeping in. Jungkook was seated on a bench right underneath the art with his trusty camera hanging from his neck, a picnic basket next to him.

“This is beautiful,” you said in awe, taking in the entire view. Jungkook followed your gaze, humming his agreement before picking up his camera. You heard the shutter of the camera several times. You looked over to him glancing at the small screen on the device before adjusting the lens and taking several more. 

“Have you never seen this?” He said as he stood and grabbed the basket. You stood as well and followed him, falling into step beside him as he walked out from the shade and into the grassier area.

You shook your head no. “Don’t really have the time I guess. I’ve always wanted to explore the J-Bug though; Namjoon said the museums all along the Hangang are amazing.”

“I’ve taken photos at several of the murals nearby, they’re some of my favorite locations actually.” He smiled at you, and you can’t help the way your heart squeezes. He nodded his head to an area that had a decent amount of sunlight to combat the winter chill.

“Yea, I remember seeing some of them in your office. You’re really talented Kookie, I remember how passionate you were about photography even back then.” You helped spread the blanket he produced from the basket and once seated you leaned back on your palms, eyes closed. 

Jungkook looked at you, taking in the way the midday sun made you glow, how pretty your lashes looked leaving shadows across your content cheeks. He couldn’t hold back the smile that took over his face upon hearing you use the endearment he hadn’t heard since that night so long ago.

“Ah, yeah, but my photography wasn’t that good then.”

“Stop being so humble, the photos you took were amazing, even then.”

You opened your eyes, catching him staring at you, and you felt yourself grow self-conscious.

“What? Is there something on my face?”

“Oh—uh, no sorry, it was just the sun—you know, lighting and all.” He gestured to his camera.

“Ah, I guess the talented eye never rests. Though I don’t know why you would want pictures of me,” you laughed and Jungkook tapped your knee in reproach.

“You’re a pretty good subject, don’t downplay yourself.”

You nodded, looking in the basket to hide the way your cheeks had warmed at his comment.

“Seriously, Y/N, I used to want to take photos of you all the time back then... you should’ve seen my camera roll. It was embarrassing. Jimin used to tease me all the time.” Jungkook helped you set up his small spread of food and you used the meal as a distraction.

“Ooh, did you prepare all of this?”

“Ah, some of it,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I had some help from Jin hyung.”

“It smells delicious.” You took the proffered chopsticks from his large hand and dug into the bowl of japchae before placing it on your rice to gather for one bite; Jungkook followed suit.

The rest of the lunch date went incredibly well. Jungkook was just like you remembered him to be, except he was more filled out, and a little taller with a jawline that could cut glass. But his humor, his compassion, his deep thoughts that led you to fall for him all those years ago were still painfully there. Spending more time with him one on one did nothing but show you that the feelings you once had for him were still easily accessible. 

As he led you back to the office, his hand swinging yours between your bodies, you couldn’t help but wish this was real. How nice it would be to just pretend that Jungkook really was yours, allow those creeping feelings to spread like spring, blooming across your chest until it was vibrant and unforgettable. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like after; after when you were single again and Jungkook had either gotten back with Somin or moved on to someone else.

“What are you thinking about?” Jungkook squeezed your hand. You hadn’t even noticed that you were not only back at the office, but standing at the door to your locked office.

“Oh, sorry. Honestly, that lunch date was just so nice… It felt good to get out and do something different for a change.”

“Oh, well yea, I remembered you used to like stuff like this, I figured you probably still did.”

You nodded, hope blooming. 

“Take a look at this post, let me know if it’s okay.”

He handed you his phone, and you admired the way he had caught you off guard, a photo that looked like it could be moving, the way your hair frames your face as you looked longingly off into the distance. The caption was simple. “It’s not about where you go or what you have, it’s about who you’re with along the way.” 

“It’s perfect.”

“Okay, post it then. And post a few more pics of me on your page too? I’ve been posting and tagging you...”

If you didn’t know any better, you would think that Jungkook sounded… upset? You nodded as you clicked the post button, and as it loaded, the phone vibrated in your hand. Thinking it was a like or a comment on the image of you, you glanced at it. His phone had locked by this time, and instead of seeing notifications for Instagram, you saw a message notification instead. 

Handing him back his phone, you push down that blooming sensation. It would be foolish to think Jungkook was upset that you hadn’t posted him as much as he had posted you. Clearly he must’ve spent time with Somin after he dropped you off yesterday. 

“You got a message. Umm, I’m gonna finish up here and then head home, you don’t need to wait for me. See you tomorrow?”

You wanted to get away from him desperately. Jungkook looked at you, confused at your sudden shift in mood.

“I thought I was driving you home? Jin said he was staying out late tonight, I figured we could hang out for a few—”

“We’ll see! There’s still so much to do for the album release.” You leaned up and kissed his cheek chastely before unlocking your office door and all but disappeared inside of it.

Jungkook stood there, staring at your closed door for a few more seconds before he felt his phone buzz in his hand. Checking his notifications, he saw a series of texts from Somin. 

Looking around confused, he noticed Somin standing across the office area, a deadly smirk on her face as she waved her phone at Jungkook. All Jungkook could do was sigh. Somin wouldn’t leave him alone long enough to sort out his thoughts, and now she was sending purposefully misleading texts? Jungkook didn’t know how to explain to you that what you saw was untrue.

You clearly believed it.

—

Jungkook gave you two days of space before he decided to track you down. He always hated that Somin would know he was upset (typically because it was her fault) and immediately pounce on him, forcing her company upon him and not allowing him the ability to forgive and move on. He wanted to give you that time, so after two days, Jungkook felt that it had been long enough, and the two of you should reconcile whatever misunderstanding there had been.

You posted a photo with him yesterday, and from the caption you wrote it appeared like you had a fun time with him on Monday despite the way you left him standing at your office door. 

The image you posted on your Instagram with Jungkook was a candid shot; he hadn’t realized you had taken a photo. While it brought about that warm feeling in his chest seeing the photo appear in his feed, it didn’t clearly depict his face. 

Instead, the focus was on your fingers intertwined. Jungkook’s profile could be seen, blurred from lack of focus, but it matched the caption you had chosen so well. “Even if someone shakes this world, please don’t ever let go of this hand you’re holding...”

Motivated, Jungkook made sure to be bright and early at your door ready to drive you and your sister. 

You weren’t expecting to see the flashy Benz outside of your apartment. Yuna was excited to not have to take public transportation, leaving you behind as she all but ran to the passenger rear door.

“Morning JK! We missed you these past few days.”

“Ah, sorry about that, I had to be at the office way earlier; didn’t want to make you guys wake up even earlier than you already do.”

Yuna waves off the apology and you finally followed; feet moving across the pavement until you’ve climbed into the car and buckled your seatbelt.

“Morning princess,” Jungkook says, leaning towards you and pecking your lips. You were caught off guard, not expecting him to be so lovey, but you returned the kiss, a double peck that you started and continued on as the traditional way you greeted each other.

“Morning.”

“Didn’t sleep well?”

“Yea, been a bit out of it these past few days...” You trailed off, not wanting to talk about it in front of Yuna. Catching on, Jungkook turns up the music and shifts into drive, pulling off towards the University for Yuna.

The drive to the office isn’t too long from the school, so once Yuna was out, Jungkook wasted no time in asking you to talk.

“So, can we talk about Somin?”

You huffed out a sigh. It was too early in the morning to deal with the Somin issue, but you nodded, allowing Jungkook to breach the topic.

“I know you saw her message. I want you to know that nothing happened. She sent that text because she saw us. She was doing the same bullshit she always does, part of the reason I don’t think she’s learned anything yet, like you said.”

You nodded, still not sure what to believe. He had no reason to lie to you, it’s not like you were actually in a relationship. He could go back to Somin anytime. 

“I hate that you’re mad at me.”

You turned your body towards him. 

“I—Look, I’m not mad, okay? Not at you. I just hate that Somin gets under my skin so much. That she’s a bitch to you. Neither of us deserve it, especially you.”

Jungkook reached over, encasing your hand in his.

“I’m learning that now. We’ve been together so long, I never noticed at first what she was doing. But I think subconsciously, it was making me resent her. And you really said some shit that had me thinking. And you’re right. I—I’m really glad to have you back in my life, Y/N. Having you in my corner has made all the difference.”

You looked down, eyes staring at the tattooed hand to hide the warmth on your face. 

“After work, come over. Let me buy us dinner and we can hang out.” You felt his smile as he stared at you while pausing at the red light before your office, and you met his gaze.

“Okay.”

“Good, we need to make Jin believe we’re having hot, loud sex, since rule 7 prevents you from experiencing the real thing.”

He let out a shout of pain as you punched his shoulder.

—

Walking to get food was not the smartest idea for 3 reasons. First, because neither of you checked the weather. Second, due to number one, neither of you had an umbrella. So naturally, third, running in the rain while carrying takeout was almost a disaster.

And still, the two of you laughed the entire way, bag clutched in one arm while your fingers were intertwined between your sprinting bodies, one block left to get to Jungkook’s apartment. By the time he’s unlocked the door, you're both sopping wet, rain water dripping onto the floor of the entryway to the apartment. After getting the food situated to stay warm while you guys got cleaned up, Jungkook gave you a towel and led you to his bathroom.

You appreciated that he was such a clean guy, his apartment and subsequently, the bathroom was pristine, and he actually had a trashcan and stocked toilet paper, unlike some men you knew. He planted folded clothes for you to change into on top of the sink counter, and surprised you with a kiss.

“What was that for?” You asked, dazed.

“Practice.” He said with a wink, and he backed away, closing the door as he left you alone. 

—

While Jungkook showered, you heated up the food, your mostly dried hair now up in a messy bun as you danced around his kitchen. His sweats were a little (a lot) too long, so you had rolled them up so you could avoid tripping. 

A knock at the door made you jump, before you moonwalked over to the entryway, now clean of the rain water the two of you had trudged in. Thinking it was Jin, you didn’t check to see who it was and opened the door. You froze as you took in a young man that was not your ‘boyfriend’s’ broad shouldered roommate. Instead, doe-eyes similar to the man currently naked in the shower stared back at you.

“Oh, hey… I thought my brother lived here. Sorry about that!” The man stepped back, checking the number on the apartment again before his eyes landed on your shirt—or rather, his brother’s shirt.

“You’re not Somin...”

“Hi, and no, I’m not,” you laughed, “um, but this is Jungkook’s apartment.”

“Ahh, okay. I’m JungHyun. His older brother.”

“Oh! Come in!” You stepped back so that he could walk past you, and you led him into the living room once he had shed his shoes. 

“Oh, did I interrupt dinner?”

“Oh, no we haven’t even started eating yet. No worries.”

The two of you sat down, and you tucked your feet up under your bottom, turning to face Jungkook’s older brother.

“So, I know who you’re not...”

“Oh, fuck, manners.” The look on your face is sheepish, and you smiled to cover your nerves. “I’m Y/N, Kookie’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, you’re the famous Y/N! Finally got you, did he?”

His words confused you, Jungkook had been with Somin since forever, when had he ever wanted you? Smiling to cover your confusion, you’re saved when Jungkook appears in the hallway, a loud laugh as he barreled over to his brother and all but jumped on the man.

“Hyung! What are you doing here?!”

“Oh, I finished that project at work early, so I’m headed to visit mom and dad. Staying with them through Christmas before the next contract at work starts.”

“Ah, it’s good to see you!”

Jungkook’s enthusiasm is abundant; it’s clear he loves his brother dearly and misses him. He pulled back from a hug and sat comfortably in the space between you and JungHyun, his palm resting lightly on your leg absentmindedly.

“So, I’ve met your new girlfriend. I must say you didn’t do her justice when you described her to me.”

You felt the blush creep across your face, and Jungkook also seemed to turn red, his fingers rubbing at the skin on his neck.

“Yea, seeing her in person is best.” He says awkwardly, and you can’t help but laugh.

“So? Does dad know? Mom is gonna be so excited. She hated Somin.”

“What?” Jungkook says at the same time that you say “Really?”

JungHyun nodded, sitting back into the couch comfortably.

“Yea, no offense, lil bro, but Somin was a bitch. Mom thought she was so fake.”

“Wh-why didn’t you guys ever say anything?”

“Eh, you know, cause you were in love or whatever.”

You get up and go to the kitchen, grabbing bowls and the last of the heated food, hoping to avoid being present for this part of their conversation, but still curious all the same.

“Definitely not.”

“Mmhmm, sure.”

“Seriously. I wasn’t actually in love. Or if I was, it faded. I think for a lot of it I was just… dependent or whatever. I thought it was love, sure. But it wasn’t; I know that now.”

“Ah, so Y/N showed you what love is?”

“She definitely cares more about me and my happiness than Somin ever has.”

You cleared your throat as you walked back into the living room.

“Ready to eat?”

Dinner with Jungkook and JungHyun is, in so many words, fun. They bantered and joked and you spend the time eating and laughing, enjoying your time with the brothers. You didn't even realize how late it had gotten, not until Jin waltzed into the apartment, noting the late hour for you all to be chatting so loud. 

“Shit, Yuna messaged me an hour ago.” 

“Just stay here. We can pick Yuna up in the morning when you go home to change.”

“Are you sure? Your brother’s visiting, I don’t want to be in the way.”

“Y/N, don’t worry, I’ll take the couch. I was going to anyway.” JungHyun smiled at you, and you nodded back. Standing up, you stretched, not realizing how tired you were. Jungkook took the opportunity to tickle your exposed sides, and you squealed, causing the brothers to laugh as you squirmed away from Jungkook, who didn’t let you get far.

“Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

Turning in Jungkook’s arms, you looked over his shoulder at his brother.

“Good night, oppa.”

Jungkook stiffened as JungHyun and Jin laughed, enjoying the way the youngest one reacted to your words.

“Ah, if it doesn’t work out between you two, hit me up.”

“Hyung!” Jungkook glared at his brother, not enjoying the joke.

“What? At least she wouldn’t need to meet our parents twice! She is coming for Christmas, right?”

The two of you looked at each other, a little thrown off by the question. The holidays were coming up, but you hadn’t discussed this far into the relationship. It wasn’t real after all, did you have to go through such lengths to teach Somin a lesson?

“I haven’t told mom and dad yet about her...”

“No worries, I text them ages ago. They’re expecting her for Christmas.”

Jungkook sighed, dropping his forehead to yours, so all you could see was his eyes staring into yours.

“Is this okay? Do you wanna, you know? Meet my parents?” Jungkook’s voice was low as he whispered the question.

“I—Yes.”

The look on his face when you agreed was beautiful, a scrunched-nose smile that is reminiscent of a bunny. You couldn’t help but smile back, lost in the mahogany of his eyes.

“Are you guys over there kissing when I’m waiting for an answer?” JungHyun broke the tension filling the air between you and his brother.

Jungkook smirked before capturing your lips with his own, a breathless kiss that lasted only a couple seconds before he pulled away to smirk at his brother.

“You can tell mom and dad I’ll be bringing her home for Christmas.” With those words, Jungkook whisked you down the hall and tucked you into his bed before climbing in behind you. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulled you closer to him. His hands skimmed your body before he began tickling you again, a squeal leaving your mouth. You retaliated, hands attempting to tickle him before he pinned you to the bed, and the two of you began to wrestle for a bit. 

You were unaware of how sexual the wrestling sounded; his headboard hitting the wall roughly and the two of you grunting and groaning as you fought for dominance, some added squeals and moans when Jungkook decided it was a good idea to bite you in his quest for submission. Finally winded, you gave in, laying back on the mattress in defeat. Jungkook tugged at your sweatpants, removing them swiftly and throwing them onto the floor, his own joining the pile. He then grasped your face, peppering it with kisses.

You were about to ask him what he was doing, when someone knocked. Jungkook called out a ‘come in’ and his brother walked into the bedroom, his sights set on the bathroom.

“Don’t mind me, just gonna wash up before bed. It seemed safe to enter now.”

He disappeared into the bathroom as Jungkook continued to hold you, affectionate even after his brother was out of sight. Even if this relationship was fake, you could pretend in this moment that it was real, that Jungkook pulled you closer, not to fool his brother, but because he wanted to be close to you, that he was falling in love with you. 

For one night, it should be okay to pretend it was something more, right?

—

The next two weeks passed by in a blur. Namjoon had basically confined himself to his studio at work, intent on avoiding you. Seeing you hand in hand with Jungkook seemed to bother him, and because you couldn’t tell him the truth (or wouldn’t), you left him to his own assumptions. He ignored all of your texts attempting to reach out to him, despite him saying he wanted you to let him know when you had time for him. This just made you more frustrated, and you were done trying to chase Namjoon, romantically or otherwise. When he was ready to behave like an adult, you would be willing to talk to him. 

After telling Yuna about how you were asked to go home with Jungkook and meet his family, you received a call from your own parents. Yuna had told them about Jungkook, and you were bombarded with questions until you too agreed to bring Jungkook home.

It took some discussing, but it was finally decided: the 23rd and Christmas Eve would be with your family, and Christmas Day and the 26th would be with Jungkook’s. You were a little worried that the parents would be able to see through your ruse, despite having fooled everybody else at work, but Jungkook assured you that it would be easy enough to trick his parents. 

On the train ride to Daegu, you sat a few rows away from your sister, who had her headphones in as she watched the latest K-Drama she missed due to her busy school schedule. The ‘arriving soon’ message plays throughout the cabins of the KTX, and you figure it’s important to bring up your parents. 

Turning to Jungkook, who was drawing on his iPad, you removed an airpod from your ear, pausing the music. You take a moment and admire his face, the way his jawline was so angular, the sharp planes of his cheekbones, the concentration held in his eyes.

“Like what you see?” Jungkook’s voice is teasing, but you still felt embarrassed at being caught staring at him.

“I just think we should talk about the next 2 days.”

“Y/N, listen. Parents love me. Despite the tattoos and long hair.”

“Cause you’ve met so many parents? You’ve been dating Somin since we were 20.”

“My friends have parents too, you know. Don’t worry. Just be like we always are and it’ll be fine.”

“Your parents may be easy to trick, but mine? They’re a bit more… scrutinizing. Plus, they’ve heard me talk about Namjoon, and probably don’t remember me talking about you...” you trailed off, a slight warmth subtly coloring your cheeks.

“So you used to talk about me?”

“Well, yea, first year, you know? I had a crush on you, so my mom heard all about it. Not about—you know, but I told her I thought we might date.” You buried your nose in your phone to avoid looking at Jungkook. 

“You know, you never told me why you nev—”

Jungkook’s words were cut off by an attendant walking through the aisle, asking everyone to start packing up their belongings as the train would be pulling into the DongDaegu Station momentarily.

“My dad should be here to pick us up—Yuna!” Your sister turned to you, a smile on her face as she waved her phone.

“Dad’s here!”

The drive to the house was short, and you spent most of the time taking turns with Yuna filling in your dad on your life in Seoul. Your mom was busy in the kitchen when you arrived, and she shooed you all upstairs to your rooms. Unsurprisingly, your parents were having you and Yuna share her room while Jungkook would be across the hall in your room. 

Your parents were more conservative, and while you were an adult and perfectly able to do as you pleased in Seoul, while under their roof, they wanted to make sure that you remained as pure as they could keep you. 

Dinner that first night went well. Jungook and your dad bonded over sports, despite Jungkook not playing any team sports, he was still well-versed on the topic and joined your dad in watching a basketball game while you, Yuna, and your mom cleaned up after dinner and then sat in the sewing room. 

Your mom asked you all about Jungkook, which she surprisingly did remember you talking about. It seemed you had her and your father fooled, but while you sat at her embroidery machine, she shared she was confused about the lack of presents you had for each other to open tomorrow night. Saying it was because you still had to wrap them and she would find them under the tree tomorrow was an easy enough excuse, and paired with a very real yawn, you excused yourself to get ready for bed.

Sleeping with Yuna was uncomfortable; she was a wild sleeper. Restlessness won over sleep, so you got out of bed and made your way downstairs to grab a bottle of water from the kitchen. Your parents were already in bed in their first floor room on the other side of the house from the kitchen and the stairs.

When you returned back upstairs, you noticed the light on in your bedroom, so you knocked softly.

“Come in,” Jungkook’s voice was subdued, and you pushed the door open gently.

“Hey,” you said, eyeing Jungkook’s lean, topless form as he sat at the edge of the bed. You never tired of the view when you would sleep over at his place. 

“Can’t sleep?”

“Yea, Yuna isn’t the best person to sleep next to, flops around all night, hogs the sheets.”

You walk into the room, joining him on the bed. He’s swiping through images from the SeoulM8 shoots he’s recently done. You watched his finger move across the iPad leisurely.

“Ahh, sounds like you miss sleeping next to me.”

You scoffed, shoulder bumping into his.

“You snore a bit. And your body temperature runs pretty hot. I wake up sweating half the time.”

“Ah, not the first time I’ve made you sweat, love.”

You raise your eyebrow at his insinuation of your loss of virginity.

“Kidding, babe,” he jokes, locking his iPad and setting it down to charge on the bedside table.

“Can we go into town tomorrow? I want to do some last minute shopping.”

“Sure.” Jungkook yawned and you took that as your cue to leave so he could get some sleep after your journey across the country.

“Where ya going? I thought you couldn't fall asleep with Yuna?”

Jungkook pulled the covers back, making space for you to climb in in front of him.

“Well, yes, but my parents—”

“Sleep downstairs and wholly expect us to pretend to sleep apart but know that you’re going to sneak in here anyways because we’re madly in love.”

You had to cover your mouth to keep from laughing loudly.

“And how do you know that?”

Jungkook smirked, still waiting for you to get into bed.

“You’re dad told me. He also said we need to give him grandchildren, sooner rather than later.”

Stunned silent, Jungkook leaned forward and grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards him. He turned off the light and you climbed in over him, keeping him at the front just in case. 

“C’mere,” he rolled over and pulled you to his chest, snuggling into you as he got comfortable. “We have to look madly in love. No funny business though. I know you think I’m irresistible, but we are in your parents house and must be respectful.”

You elbowed him in the rib, and settled into the comforting darkness of your childhood bedroom with Jungkook’s arm wound around your waist, holding you close. 

——

Christmas Eve, in your family, is the night that presents are opened. As a child, this tradition was done in order to make room under the tree for Santa’s presents. As adults, your parents keep the tradition alive, instead putting stockings with 1 or 2 of the more expensive gifts for you to have on Christmas morning. 

After shopping in town and spending time wrapping, you had finally placed a few gifts for Jungkook under the tree that Yuna was now passing out. You were surprised to see a couple gifts for you from Jungkook in the small pile you amassed, and when you caught his eye, he winked at you. 

Yuna opened her gifts first, then you and Jungkook, where you saw that he gave you a matching jewelry set: necklace and earrings in a soft rose gold, a small cherry blossom bloom dangling from the small hoop of the earrings and from a small hoop on the necklace. It reminded you of your date at the park. The two of you sat under the winter sakura tree that day, the only blossoms that bloom twice a year, where you told him how much you loved cherry blossoms in passing. 

“It’s beautiful, Jungkook.” You almost can’t believe it, but he just smiles softly at your gratitude and helps put the necklace on you. Your parents looked happy, enjoying seeing their daughter so happy. Jungkook was excited to see what you had gotten him; a special lens for his camera that he had talked on and on about purchasing soon. He was giddy, running upstairs to grab his camera, testing out the new lens on pictures of you and your family.

Once again, you found yourself in your old room, curled up with Jungkook, but this time you were unable to sleep. Rolling over, you faced Jungkook, who cracked one eye and peeked at you.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he asked, voice laced with sleep. You noticed how easily the endearment rolled off his tongue even with no one around to convince.

“I—the gift you got me,” your fingers fidgeted with the small cherry blossom on the necklace. “I hope it didn’t cost too much. You can return it once we break up if you need to.”

“Y/N, that gift is for you. For being such a great… friend. Helping me do this. I really think it’s working.”

“You deserve to be happy Jungkook. I’m glad you were able to get space long enough to work out how you feel, and that you’re working your way to being happier.”

“Yea, I think I’ve been much happier lately...”

You watched his tongue run along his lips, and you couldn’t help but train your eyes on the movement. He caught your eyes, his hands gripped you a bit tighter as the tension in the dark room grew.

“...much happier...”

You weren’t sure who moved first, you or Jungkook, but at that point, it didn’t really matter. The way your lips sought his, the way his hands pulled you closer, the two of you were acting on instinct. This kiss wasn’t for practice or for show, who was to know what happened here, in this room tonight, but the two of you?

You let out a moan as he dipped his head lower, tracing kisses from your neck to what was exposed of your collarbone. His touch is impatient, tugging and kneading, unable to stay still on your body. His scent alone, a musky vanilla scent, engulfed your senses and you wanted… more.

You threw your leg over his body, turning the two of you until you’re straddled on top of him, able to press your core down onto his very firm cock. His boxers and your sleep shorts are the only things holding it back from assaulting you, and you’re annoyed that they’re in the way. Reaching down, you slide your hand roughly into the waistline of the boxers, fingers gripping him.

Jungkook groaned into your neck, the feel of your hand as you palm him building the craving he had for you. He wanted you. Not just physically. But you had those stupid rules, and he couldn’t just break them. He respected you more than that, and falling in love with you? Well that wasn’t part of the plan.

Jungkook slows the way he’s kissing you, slows the way he was thrusting into your hand and pushes you gently off of him and back to your side of the bed. You’re both panting, barely able to catch your breath as he pulled your back to his chest and held you close.

“We’ve got a long trip tomorrow morning to Busan, babe. Let’s get some sleep.”

“Oh… okay?” You were so confused. You had never been turned down before, especially not when you were so far into the act, practically ready to pull your panties to the side and ease him into you. You were throbbing, body aching with want, and you knew he was too; could feel the hardness as it nestled in the dip between your cheeks.

You felt him kiss your head, followed by a soft double peck to your neck, and not 10 minutes later his breathing slowed as he drifted off to sleep. 

You, on the other hand, laid awake, thoughts running wild.

——

Christmas morning you had an early breakfast with your family before opening stockings. Your parents had only a couple of weeks to prepare for Jungkook, but they had prepared a stocking for him as well; your mom embroidering his name onto it and stuffing it full to the brim. 

You were surprised at the gifts; a couple boxes of polaroid film, a bag of banana kick chips, individually packaged egg snacks, and colorful candy canes. Yours were similar as well, a small collection of sewing items for designing, and your favorite snacks. Your mom ruffled Jungkook’s sleepy-head hair as he offered his thanks to your parents, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart swoon at the sight. You realized something heartbreaking at that moment: breaking up with Jungkook once this was over would hurt more than just you. 

Heading to Jungkook’s parents house was a different experience after the previous night. Yuna had obviously stayed with your parents, and would be catching the train back the same day you left Busan. 

This was the first time the two of you had been alone since the rejection the night before, and you were doing your best to ignore the hurt feeling that would bloom every time you caught yourself dwelling on it. You focused on your phone instead, posting a few photos on Instagram so that you were sticking to your end of the deal. Somin would see these posts some way or another, and it would hopefully do what it was intended to.

Jungkook didn’t seem to think twice about the rejection, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and treating you like you were really together, a true couple going to meet his parents for the first time. 

“Nervous?”

“A little. I’ll be meeting your parents, and we’re not really together,” you looked down at your hands, missing the way Jungkook’s face fell for a few seconds before working it’s way back to a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

“I think we’re together enough where it counts. No one watching us would doubt it,” he intertwined your fingers and gave it an encouraging squeeze, “sometimes even I forget you’re not my real girlfriend.” He laughed, and the sound leaves an ache in your chest.

“Same, haha...” You looked out the window of the KTX, ready to breathe the fresh air of the nearby sea. Jungkook released your hand and you both went back to your tasks, Jungkook reading emails and you sketching designs for work.

Jungkook’s parents treated you much like yours had treated Jungkook. Like you were the greatest thing to happen to their child.

“Y/N, you’re so pretty! Oh, thank heavens, we have a chance at cute grandchildren now.” Jungkook’s mom bowed her head in thanks to a higher power, and you couldn’t help feeling a little bad that you weren’t actually dating Jungkook. You would have liked to deserve the praise she was giving you.

“He looks so much happier, happier than we’ve seen him in a long time.” She smiled at his father and their eyes, so similar to their two sons, crinkled in the corners. JungHyun greeted you with a hug, and you reciprocated it.

“Hi, Oppa,” you teased, and Jungkook glared at you. 

“Yah! That’s Jeon JungHyun to you,” he leaned closer to your ear in a mock whisper, “only I get called Oppa.”

JungHyun cringed back in mock disgust.

“I do not need to know about your ‘Oppa kink’ in the bedroom.” He shivered as he walked back to the living room, where he put away his laptop to make space for gifts.

Their dad, who you were very glad had not heard his eldest son’s comment, gestured to you to leave your suitcases in the entryway and come sit down.

“Kookie, pass out the gifts please. Your mom has been waiting all morning in excitement for you two to get here. We can have lunch after you guys get situated.��

Jungkook, ever the dutiful youngest son, began to distribute gifts amongst you all, while you handed your own gifts that you had gotten for his family out to them. 

“You didn’t have to get them anything,” Jungkook whispered as he dropped a gift off for you from his own parents.

You gave him a pointed look, gesturing subtly to the gift.

“I did.”

He shook his head with a smile and continued until the space under the tree was empty.

“So, we just open them all at the same time! Save your thanks for the end, ready?” His dad looked at you, and you nodded.

“Let’s get it!” Jungkook shouted, and everyone laughed at his phrase as you began to open your gifts. You didn’t have many, one from his parents and JungHyun, and 2 from Jungkook. His family had given you a Pantone Color Swatch book that was easy to carry around, to help while on set working. It was very thoughtful, and you knew it could not have been cheap. You bowed deeply, on your knees and forehead to their floor as a show of your gratitude and respect.

They motioned for you to sit back up, waving off your thanks as if it was no big deal for them to get this gift for you. You turned to Jungkook’s gift, eyes already threatening tears at their sincere treatment of you, and once opened, you did cry.

Nestled inside a satin lined box was a beautiful set of Dwikkoji, traditional hair pins, that came with a small card identifying them as from the Joseon era.

“Jungkook!” you gasped, sure that they couldn’t be real.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t have to pay for them. But they would look much better displayed in your office as our head fashionista then collecting dust in storage.”

You couldn’t hold back your feelings any longer. Acting on instinct, you tugged him towards you, wrapping your arms under his own and around his frame as you let your tears fall.

“They’re beautiful, Kookie.” 

Jungkook reciprocated your embrace, his hand smoothing down your hair as his parents smiled at the scene in front of them.

“Ah, young love, remember when that was us?”

—

Unlike your parents, who wanted to pretend that the two of you were a modest young couple, Jungkook’s parents assumed that the two of you would room together. His dad had clapped him on his shoulder and congratulated him on bringing home such a fine woman. Apparently in the two weeks that JungHyun had been home, he had raved about you to his parents, showing pictures from your social media accounts of the two of you together, as well as your fashion talent. Jungkook too had talked on the phone to his parents, you came to find out, which was why his parents were so enthralled by you, despite only dating Jungkook for a short time.

Lunch was fun. Spending time with the Jeons was full of laughter. His family was like him, generous and kind hearted, and you enjoyed spending time with his mom in the kitchen making cookies for dessert.

That night you went out for a drive to look at Christmas lights, before you all stopped off at the town center where they had outdoor ice skating set up. Jungkook had his camera with the new personalized strap you made him (yay fashion classes!) around his neck, taking photos of you and his family as you glided across the frozen water. You spent an hour there before heading home to warm up with hot cocoa and Christmas movies. You found out that this was their tradition every year, and it made you happy to know they wanted to share it with you. Even if it was only for this one Christmas.

Having showered first, you traveled down the hall to get water from the kitchen while you waited for Jungkook to finish his. His family had a one level house; His parents’ room was located on one side of the living room and kitchen, while Jungkook and his brother’s room was on the other side. 

You heard his parents talking at the table and you slowed down, resting the back of your head on the wall as you heard them say your name.

“Oh, honey, Y/N is so darling! I haven’t seen him this happy in years.”

“He looks so in love with her.”

“Well, remember, he used to have the biggest crush on her.”

“But that was years ago. They were what, 20? And somehow he chose Somin?”

“Sometimes, people aren't ready. Now, they’re older. Better chances of them working out. Oh, honey, I hope they work out. She would be such a cute daughter in law.”

“I know, but don’t pressure them. Let them realize how in love with each other they are on their own.”

“Do you think she loves him too?”

“I don’t have a single doubt in my mind. I saw the way they were together.They’re in love, whether they realize it or not.”

“Ahh, so we could have grandchildren soon? JungHyun seems like he’s never going to settle down... ”

“Aish, grandchildren? I’m too young to be a grandpa!”

Instead of interrupting them, you headed back to his room, mind racing with their words. Jungkook had a crush on you? They thought the two of you were in love? Daughter in law? Jungkook chose that moment to come into the room, towel wrapped low around his waist as he checked his phone and you couldn’t look away.

“You’re starting to drool there, babe.”

You swallowed and looked away, grabbing your hair and running your fingers through it to put it into a bun on your head.

“I just uh—I wanted to talk to you about the contract.”

Jungkook, who was facing his dresser where his suitcase was opened up, froze. His eyes sought yours in the mirror, his reflection giving away nothing.

“Oh? What, uh, what about it?”

“Well, our parents seem to like us together, I mean, they’re talking about grandkids, and well, I would hate to break up so soon after having met them. I know this was only supposed to go on until you figured out what to do about Somin, but if it’s alright with you,” you look away, twisting your fingers in nervousness, “I would like for us to continue to date.”

Jungkook’s mind was racing. He understood what you meant. Your parents seemed to love him, discussing future visits for the holidays and his family had been no different. And thinking about ending the contract? Well, he had already been thinking about doing that. So he could date you, for real. Somin texted him while he was in the shower, upset about missing Christmas with his family. Jungkook thought that it would bother him, his first holiday without her, but he realized he couldn’t care less. 

Somin treated him like a prize to be toted around and shown off. He was good for bragging; his face, body, high paying job, it all granted her status. She had no ambition to grow within the company, still a one act manager after graduating as an interning manager’s assistant. But you? God, you were different. You had ambition, you didn’t care about what Jungkook could provide for you, and you listened to him, to his dreams. You were thoughtful, appreciative, and everything you had done was to help him be happy. Even fake dating, while it benefitted you as well, you had gone above and beyond for him.

You stood up, walking closer to him where he was lost in his thoughts.

“Jungkook?” you intoned, your fingers softly settling on the back of his shoulder, waiting for his response.

“I think, yeah. I think that would be a good idea. My parents and brother love you.”

Your heart soared. He wanted to continue this. Not go back to Somin right away. He barely brought her up this whole trip. You felt giddy, hopeful that maybe one day, this could be something more.

“So then, it’s settled.”

Jungkook turned around, catching your hand before you could drop it back to your side.

“I think we should reexamine that contract, but tonight, I’d really like to say fuck it.”

Jungkook stepped into your space, and in a heart’s beat, he had ensnared your lips, his arms pulling you closer to him. Your own arms snaked up his body, hands pulling his head closer to you, your fingers playing with the wet strands at his nape. His kisses were fervent, lips almost rough as he pressed them to yours before he was swiping his tongue across the opening of your mouth, seeking entrance. 

You groaned as you arched your back, seeking to deepen the kiss as you pressed higher on your tiptoes, wanting more of him. His palm skimmed your back down to your butt, where he applied pressure and lifted you with brute strength. You pulled away with a gasp, not expecting to be lifted up. He just looked at you with pupils blown, one eyebrow raised suggestively as he carried you to his bed.

“I think we should practice making ‘grandchildren’ for them.”

He set you down, long enough to grip the hem of your shirt before he pulled it over your head. His eyes moved to your chest, and he closed his eyes as he sighed in defeat.

“You’ve been keeping this from me?”

“You’ve seen me naked before,” you remind him, but he just shook his head.

“Years ago, Y/N, and let me tell you, my memory didn’t do you justice. I think I need a reminder.”

You throw him a suggestive look, knowing that you’ve both had some experience with sex since your shared first time all those years ago. This time, there was no fumbling, no nervous laughter, or apologizing. This time, Jungkook was in command of his body, and of yours too. He rid you of your shorts, leaving you naked on his sheets as he dropped his towel. 

You marveled at how his body had changed: the muscle gained and the chiseled jaw you loved to admire. Jungkook bit his lip and did the same to you, eyes roving along your curves, the way you weren’t shying away from his touch as his fingers trailed up your thigh.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond, as Jungkook kissed you again, this time with less fervor, his body crawling above yours as he joined you on the bed. His hands touched you everywhere, fondling your breasts and your ass as he kissed down your neck, nipping the skin and leaving marks along your neck. You feel the ache as your wetness pools between your legs, and Jungkook’s growing member sits heavy where it’s pressed against your thigh. 

“Jungkook, please—”

He nips a bit harder, the sound of you begging for him made him infinitely larger. He wanted to be in you, but he didn’t want to rush it, wanted to savor you for as long as he had you under him. Kissing down your body, his tongue leaves a cool, wet trail and you writhe, ticklish to his tongues path to your core. 

Parting your legs wider, he smirked at you from where he's sat on his knees, your thighs on either side of his gloriously naked body. Leaning forward, he never breaks eye contact as you watch his lips meet your mound. Gentle kisses pressed to your lips, and then his tongue is parting them, flicking your clit in greeting. Your head is thrown back, you know you should be quieter, but the onslaught of his lips and tongue as they pleasure your sweet spot has you reduced to base instincts only. And right now, they want Jungkook to know that he had better not stop.

You rolled your hips, seeking more, and he gives in, thick fingers immersing themselves inside of you. You clench, walls shocked at the intrusion but welcoming it all the same. He felt so good, and you tell him as much, so he continued to finger fuck you as he lapped up your release, carrying you through your orgasm.

He was so hard, cock throbbing as he kissed back up your body, and after spitting into your hand, you reached down to stroke along his shaft, palm twisting and gliding as he nuzzled his face back into your neck, quiet little moans rolling out of his mouth with each stroke. You made him feel so good, your body warm and soft as your smaller hand stroked his larger ego, in more ways than one.

Without preamble, you positioned him at your opening and lifted your hips, allowing him to feel how warm your walls were, waiting for him. He pushed up on his palms on either side of your head and the look he gave you was indecipherable before your own eyes shut; he engulfed his cock in the swollen velvet that was your cunt, buried to the hilt.

He had tried his best to prepare you, but every glorious inch stretching you out was a breath you needed to take in order to grow accustomed to his size. You counted nine breaths, then opened your eyes, taking in the trembling of his arms as he held himself back from pounding into you.

“Move, Kook, please,” you whine, and he wasted no time following your orders.

His hips grinded into you as he rolled them, angling himself to take you as deep as humanly possible. His pace started off fast, but soon he was slowing down, head dropped into the crook of your neck as your nails dragged red marks down his back. You rocked your hips in time to his thrusts, using your grip on his back as leverage to meet him halfway. 

“You feel so good, so wet for me,” he murmured with each thrust, and you bit his shoulder, afraid if you didn’t gag yourself, you would say the wrong thing.

Everything about you enveloped him, your scent, your arms and thighs that were holding him close; he could barely think straight as he tried to get you to cum again before he got himself off. But you felt so good, tight clenches as your arousal gushed and coated his cock, he didn’t know how much longer he could last. Then you bit his shoulder, and he sped up his stroke, hips rolled in fast succession as your body jostled underneath him.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m so close baby,” you mewl into his ear, and he lifted his head up out of your neck, resting his forehead on yours. 

“I want to watch you, don’t close your eyes,” he pleads and you try your best to keep them open, not closing them for long as the coil builds in your lower abdomen. He adjusted your bodies, lifted your legs up slightly which allowed him a deeper angle that hits your g-spot. Your mouth hangs open, a fucked out expression on your face and Jungkook loses it.

The first spurt of his hot cum sends you over the edge, and you're spiraling down, pussy contracting around his cock, milking him for every drop. You maintain eye contact, watching each other for a few seconds before you can’t help but close them, the pleasure too great.

Jungkook pressed his lips to yours as you both cum, using them to cage in the words he wanted to say, wanted to shout from the rooftops, but wasn’t yet sure you felt the same way.

——

Waking up in Jungkook’s arms, you felt sore. So sore, but also satisfied. You hadn’t slept this well in ages, and if Jungkook’s deep slumber and dead weight arm draped over your waist was anything to go by, he hadn’t either. You moved his arm slowly, headed for the shower, and let out a small gasp as JungHyun also exited his bedroom at the same time.

“Well, don’t you look... rested,” he trailed off, a look of knowing on his face.

Your face burned in embarrassment.

“Don’t worry, as soon as I heard little brother start to get a little… feral, I turned up my TV while I gamed. Parents didn’t hear a peep.”

“Thank you, oppa.” You bowed, gratitude seeping out of each of your pores.

“Now, those marks on the other hand,” he gestured to your neck, “might I suggest an ice pack for 20 minutes and then some really good makeup?”

You hurried into the bathroom as he laughed his way towards the kitchen. A minute later he knocked, passing you a small ice-pack through the cracked door.

“20 minutes,” he reminded you with a wink, and went back into his room with his cereal.

—

Saying goodbye to Jungkook’s parents after a late breakfast was tough. His mom cried, saying her baby son did not visit enough and that she would miss him. She also said she would miss you greatly, and that you better come back with him soon to visit.

It was tough to promise her that you would, knowing that there was a very real chance that you wouldn’t. This was fake after all. You had just agreed to extend the contract briefly, to get through the holidays and while Jungkook said ‘fuck it’ last night, with the rising of the sun came the clarity of the situation. 

Jungkook behaved much the same, holding your hand and showering you with PDA, and while you reciprocated, you couldn’t help but feel like the magic of Christmas was over. Heading back to Seoul meant back to reality. You weren’t sure you were ready for that. For the first time in your life, you felt like you could see a future with someone, with him, despite the relationship being fake thus far. To be honest, it hadn’t felt fake since the night of the party. 

The entire trip, all 3 and a half hours of it, you ruminated on last night and what it meant. You hated to admit that you had fallen for Jungkook, and had given up rule number 7 on a whim. For all you knew, he would be going back to Somin at the end of this. 

In his own little world, Jungkook too couldn’t stop thinking about you and what last night meant. He wished he had said to forget the contract all together, instead of just for the night. He wanted to see if you felt the same way, but he wanted to be sure that his Somin chapter was done. He needed to see her and make sure he was over her, and not just using you as a rebound. You didn’t deserve that.

Jungkook’s body language had you on edge, as his foot tapped incessantly as the train got closer and closer to Seoul. You placed your hand on his knee, a reassuring move for both of you. 

“Jungkook, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just—Somin messaged me.” He had been thinking about it the whole trip back to Seoul, about how her messages didn’t affect him anymore. Before, he could barely go a few minutes before responding. Now, almost 18 hours had passed and he wasn’t bothered.

“When?” Your voice came out sharper than intended, and Jungkook flinched back from you.

“Uh, last night, right after I got out of the shower.”

Your brain began to connect dots that you didn’t want it to.

“Oh,” you respond, trying to keep your voice light. Jungkook was confused at your reaction; usually you were jumping to keep him and Somin apart. This response felt like you didn’t care, like if he met up with Somin, it wouldn’t impact you at all.

“She just… I think that you’re right. The plan is working and I’ve been happier than I’ve been in a long time. But I guess there’s that part of me that needs to talk with her, express how I feel. I want to be sure.” Before I confess my feelings to you, he thought.

“Right. Well, that was the goal, getting you to figure out what you want.” You turned your head away from him and deeper into the neck pillow, trying to get this conversation done and over with before he said something that really broke your heart.

“I know. I guess I’ll meet up with her when we get back? The sooner the better I guess.”

“True, the faster you meet with her, figure it all out, the faster we can move towards breaking up.”

Jungkook freezes, but you don’t notice, too focused on not looking at him.

“At breaking up?”

“Yea, that was the plan right? We date for a couple more weeks, then break up, so you can get back with Somin, if she’s changed, you know?”

“You—”

“Hey Jungkook? I’m really tired, can we talk about this later?”

Jungkook stared at your form, taking in how closed off you were from him. He didn’t understand what changed. He sat back, finally replying to Somin’s text, agreeing to meet at a cafe by his apartment later that evening.

—

Jungkook saw you home, worried the entire ride to your place about what was happening between the two of you. He thought everything had been going well, and after last night, he didn’t know how he could have possibly fucked up. He hoped you were just PMS-ing, like Somin used to always blame moods like this on. 

You let him carry your suitcase upstairs to your apartment and when he leaned in for a kiss, you kissed him back, but he felt it was almost out of obligation; your sister was sitting on the couch watching the two of you. Jungkook paused at your door, but you had turned away from him, so ready to be alone. So he let you close the door in his face, let you have time to yourself.

Jungkook got to the cafe, eyes searching for the long black hair of his ex. When he approached her she smiled at him. Jungkook saw the way her face lit up, the way the smile graced her pretty face, and felt nothing for it. Sitting down, a cafe worker took their drink order and left them alone.

“So, you said you wanted to talk?” Jungkook asked, fidgeting with his fingers drumming on his knee.

“Kookie, I miss you.” Somin leaned toward him, chest pushed out in her off the shoulder zebra print dress. Her black heel nudged against Jungkook’s leg, rubbing it suggestively.

Jungkook moved his leg out of reach and sighed.

“Somin—”

“Minnie.” She pouted, red painted bottom lip jutting out after she cut him off to correct her name.

“Somin. I—I’m sorry.” Jungkook felt awkward. Here he was, sitting in front of his ex, who was undoubtedly a gorgeous woman. But after all they had been through—all she put him through—and all the healing you had done to his heart, he realized he had fallen out of love with her a long time ago. “I know you had hopes of us getting back together.”

“Well, of course we’re getting back together Kookie. We’re made for each other. Since we were 20! I know this thing with Y/N is just revenge. You wanted to make me mad, teach me a lesson,” she said as she reached out and grabbed Jungkook’s hand in hers, “and I have learned it. Christmas without you was so sad. I had no one to go out to all the holiday parties with.”

Jungkook shifted in the metal chair. “Look, Somin—”

“Why do you keep calling me that?” she interrupted again, and Jungkook let out a loud sigh as he tried to maintain his cool.

“Because, I’m trying to tell you that I—”

“Jungkook! Somin!”

The loud yell of the barista reading out orders cut Jungkook off for the third time, and he groaned, running his tattooed hand over his face. With a huff, he stood up, walking through the crowded cafe to get the drinks so he could just tell Somin the truth; he may have initially wanted to teach her a lesson, but he ended up being the person who learned something from it. He was in love with you; wanted to spend more holidays like the one that just passed, with you. He truly didn’t feel anything for Somin anymore, other than friendship.

While Jungkook was up, Somin noticed his bag was open, a fancy camera strap hanging out of it. It was embroidered; the phrase ‘you shine brighter than anyone’ apparent once she pulled it free from his oversized black backpack. Somin threw a glance over her shoulder at Jungkook, seeing him still busy, so she stuffed the strap into her purse. Grabbing her phone, she sent a text to Taehyung.

Jungkook set down the drinks before sitting down himself and commanding the attention of his ex. 

“Look, Somin, I just—I’m sorry.” Jungkook looked down at his hands before making eye contact with her. “I don’t see us getting back together. I—” he paused, taking a deep breath before he spoke his truth, “I’m in love with her, Minie. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but I want to be happy. I want you to be happy with someone who feels about you, how I feel about her.”

Somin stared at Jungkook before she laughed. He was unsure of the emotions she was actually feeling; perplexed by her reaction to what he just told her. He didn't want to be with her anymore, and he wasn’t looking for her to beg, but he expected a little more... sadness? Push back? Once she was done laughing, she leveled her gaze at him.

“You, you’ve barely been seeing her Jungkook. How can you love her?”

Jungkook took a sip of his drink, gathering his thoughts before he answered her. The judgement that laced her tone made him angry, but he didn’t want to give Somin the upper hand. He wanted to be an adult about the situation. In retrospect, he hadn’t been honest with Somin when she first confessed to him, and you deserved for him to share that honesty now, even if it was coming 5 years later.

“I think—I think a part of me has always loved her. Since that first year. Don’t get me wrong, I think I loved you too and at some point we just… I think we just broke up and then made up too many times because it was easy… familiar. I love you Minie, and you were a huge part of my life. I’m just not IN love with you.” Jungkook leaned forward towards Somin, placing his hand over here, hoping that she would see and feel his sincerity and his benevolence. 

“Wow, I—You’re serious?” Somin’s voice was quiet as she questioned him. “I guess I didn’t think I’d be starting the new year without you.”

Jungkook watched as she slid her hand out from under his and placed it in her lap.

“Please, be happy for me Minie, and when you’re ready, I’ll be happy for you too.”

The loud chime from Somin’s phone went off. Jungkook watched as she looked at her screen, eyes growing wide.

“Shit, an emergency with Tae.” Somin looked up at Jungkook, her face soft and apologetic.

“Koo—I mean Jungkook, I was just surprised is all. I—I am happy for you and Y/N. Or, I guess it’s more like, I will be. I’m sorry, I have to run, but thank you for meeting with me.”

Somin gave him one last smile, as if showing she was throwing the towel in, before she stood up and left the cafe in a hurry. Jungkook watched her as she dashed off, disappearing down the sidewalk towards the nearest bus stop. He thought the meeting had gone well, or at least better than expected. Maybe Somin has grown up, he thought to himself, unaware of the way she made off cunningly with his gifted camera strap, using a text that confirmed the time for the next morning’s meeting with Taehyung as an excuse to escape.

——

After closing the door in Jungkook’s face, you retreated to your room, claiming that a headache was creeping in from the long train ride. Your sister nodded, engrossed in her latest K Drama. You rolled your suitcase into your room, stripped your travel clothes from your weary body, and entered your shower. 

Free to do as you pleased, with the water to cover the sound, you wept. How foolish you felt, letting Jungkook close to you once again, only to see him rush off to Somin. It was almost like what happened 5 years ago, when you had gone to his dorm room and found her confessing. Just like then, Somin was winning Jungkook; once again he had slipped through your grasp.

That night you texted Jungkook to tell him you would be going to the office early and that he needn’t pick you up.

Jungkook was relieved upon seeing your text. He had spent the better half of the evening and the morning tearing apart his apartment. He had called his parents, his brother, and overturned his luggage onto the floor. He could not find the camera strap you made him. 

He knew that he shouldn’t have taken it off the camera, but he spilled a bit of leftovers from his mom on it while on the train and removed it to make it easier to clean once he got home. 

Unfortunately, it was nowhere to be found. 

Jungkook was frantic; he knew that you made it for him that night you sat in the sewing room with your mom and sister while he was with your dad. Your mom had an embroidery machine, and so you snuck in there under the premise of bonding time and worked on it. He loved the phrase you chose for him; it reminded him of your love letter to him, the way you had written about him making you feel as beautiful as a night sky. “you looked at me as if the galaxies were reflected in my eyes...”

Dumping out his black backpack for the umpteenth time, Jungkook sifted through notebooks, film, wrappers from snacks, a small hygiene bag, and loose photos. He doesn’t know why he continued looking through the same places. It’s not there. Glancing at the clock, he realized he would be late to the Monday morning meeting. Giving up and putting everything he needed back into his bookbag, he stepped over the mess and headed out to his car.

Walking into the conference room, everyone looked tired from their holidays, but with the New Year around the corner, it was important for everyone to attend before January. SeoulM8’s comeback was fast approaching, and making sure everything was moving smoothly was imperative to whether the next holiday was spent relaxing or spent stressed out. 

Stirring your coffee, you walked through the propped open door and maneuvered your way over to where your assistants sat. Kim, the same one who brought you the tiger lillies several weeks ago, smiled at you as she slid you the stapled packet she printed out from the email.

“I think we’ve done all our parts, the photos Jeon emailed over have been approved by the boss, and we double-checked the designers they are wearing. I think all that’s left is to get final approval on the outfits for their comeback shows and interviews during comeback week.” 

You nodded, sipping the still hot coffee as Kim spoke quietly about the role you played for SeoulM8, eyes on the printed email. It didn’t help the way you could feel the mocha eyes of a certain ‘missing in action’ best friend burning into the side of your face; or the way the empty seat across from you saved for a certain ‘boyfriend’ of yours had your anxiety on edge.

With 5 minutes left until the meeting commenced, you had done a pretty good job at tuning out all of the mindless chatter around you, that is until Somin’s nasally voice interrupted your response to Kim.

“Oh, this? It’s just a little gift for JK.”

“But you broke up? He’s with Y/N now...” Hobi said, cutting off a reply from one of the assistants sitting near Somin.

“But we dated for 5 years, he’s still important to me. I think he’ll love it.” She turned her back to Hobi, who tried to make eye contact with you. You looked down at your coffee instead.

When Jimin and Taehyung walked into the room, everyone quieted down and took their seats if they weren’t already, assuming Bang PD, the head boss, would be quickly approaching behind them. Before the glass door could swing fully shut, Jungkook sprinted into the room, out of breath.

“Oh Jungkook, here!” Somin stood up, making a big show out of handing him the small gift bag that had been on the table in front of her. 

“Oh? Uh, thanks Minie.” Jungkook said, looking for the head boss. Bang PD was still missing from the room, so he grasped the colorful tissue paper from the bag and removed it in one swift pull. As the paper fluttered to the table, Jungkook’s eyes lit up as he took in the present.

“Oh my God, thank you!” Jungkook wrapped his arms around Somin in a huge hug, surprising everyone in the room watching, including you. Despite all of your negative thoughts about you and Jungkook’s future, seeing him react that way was unexpected and you felt your heart ache seeing him hold her in an embrace.

Sitting down, Jungkook turns to talk to Somin when you notice Bang PD walking down the long hallway towards the closed glass doors. 

You turned to the front of the room where SeoulM8 was seated next to the only empty chair in the room, fully intending to pay attention, but Jungkook’s movements directly across from you pulled your attention away. When you see the embroidered strap that YOU had given to him for Christmas a mere 2 days ago slide free from the bag, you see red. Before Bang PD can enter the room, you’ve already stood up. 

Both Namjoon and Jungkook look at you, followed by everyone else’s gaze; it’s too late to hide the tears that fall down your face. 

“Y/N, I can explain—” Jungkook said as you make your way around the table toward the door. He grabbed your wrist to stop you, but you pulled it from his grasp.

“Save it, Jeon. It’s over.”

You leave the meeting, walking brusquely past your boss with your head down. You type out a quick text to him as you take the elevator down, apologizing for leaving and saying that an emergency came up. Bang PD responds within a few moments.

Back in the conference room, Jungkook attempted to call you, but you sent him to voicemail twice. Giving up, he grabbed his bag, fully planning to follow you, when he saw Namjoon stand before he could. Throwing a dirty look at Jungkook, Namjoon shook his head at him before quickly following you out the door. 

You haven’t gone far, making it only to your office where you gathered up the rest of your belongings when Namjoon burst in.

“Y/N,” he sounded a little out of breath, probably from running to the elevator and then to your office, you assumed, “I—”

“Save it, Joon. You didn’t want to talk to me these past few weeks, so I don’t know why you’re here now.”

“Because I realized I love you.”

You stopped packing up your laptop, eyes slowly moving to meet his.

“What did you say?”

“I said I love you. I didn’t realize it until you started dating Jungkook, but I do.”

You shook your head back and forth, unable to hear or deal with his feelings right now.

“No, Namjoon, you don’t. You just miss Jennie.”

“Y/N, listen, I should’ve realized it was you. It’s always been you. You can’t honestly tell me that you’re in love with Jungkook?” Namjoon said this last part with contempt.

Tears fell once again, and you dropped your hands uselessly to your side.

“I do, Namjoon. I honestly love him.”

“Well, I hate to say I told you so, but-”

“Then don’t,” you voiced, cutting him off with an edge to your voice.

“You and Jungkook? Please. Anyone can see how different you are. You and me, though? We’re better for each other.”

“How different we are? Why? Am I too out of his league? Not pretty enough?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, and you know it. You guys just aren’t compatible—”

“And how the fuck would you even know?! You saw us together at what? One party? And then at work? What do you even know about our relationship, Joon?! You’ve been angry at me ever since you found out!”

“Because you and him together isn’t right! It’s supposed to be you and me!”

“Oh please, Namjoon. If Jennie hadn’t taken that Japan job and dumped you, you wouldn’t even be here right now. I wouldn’t have even crossed your mind. This is a pointless conversation.”

You walked towards the door, bag over your shoulder and laptop case in hand. Namjoon blocked the doorway, and behind him you could see nosey coworkers watching the interaction. 

“Move, Namjoon.”

“Not until you talk to me.”

“No,” you go to shoulder past him, and you were able to back him up into the common area outside of your office. He grabbed at your shoulders, holding you still. 

“Namjoon, let go of me!” At this moment you hated that you had dressed up for this meeting; a tight a-line pencil skirt and heels that don’t allow you the movement that you needed.

Before you can shimmy from his clutches, he’s leaning forward, his lips meeting yours in a kiss. In shock, you don’t move at first, not until your free hand shoved his shoulder and pushed him a step back.

“I can’t believe you.” 

The look you gave him could burn the sun, and this time you were able to push past him; the elevator getting closer and closer as you approached. You saw Jungkook, motionless, at the platform in front of the elevators; his eyes low in a glare aimed at Namjoon, who had followed you in your haste to escape.

“Hyung, you need to leave her alone.”

“Me? I’m her best friend. I would say you were her boyfriend, but we all heard her break up with you when she left the room crying.”

“That was just a misunderstanding. So like I said, leave her alone.” Jungkook stepped forward to his full height, chest to chest with his hyung, who prior to watching him force a kiss on you, he respected a lot. The tension on the floor was thick. You were mere steps from freedom, from Namjoon and Jungkook, when his words stopped you dead in your tracks. A misunderstanding? 

Did he not understand what the words ‘It’s over’ meant? That the contract, the relationship between the two of you, however real or fake, everything was null and void? 

“It wasn’t a misunderstanding, Jungkook.”

Big, confused, doe eyes turned to face you. “Y/N, please let’s just talk about th—”

“Why don’t you take your own advice and listen to her, Kook. You could never treat her how she deserves.” 

“Why don’t you go mind your own business Namjoon.” Jungkook bit back, fists clenched as he shook, holding back his anger. He just wanted to be alone to talk to you, but Namjoon was making it difficult.

“She is my business, she’s my best friend. She’s nothing to you now. Though, knowing you, that’s probably the reason she broke up with you. I bet you didn’t treat Somin right, and now you fucked up with Y/N. Can’t do anything right, can yo—”

Jungkook’s fist flew through the air before you could tell either of them to stop talking about what they don’t know. The sound of Namjoon’s jaw connecting to his fist echoed through the large room, and the crowd of bystanders yelled out in shock at watching a full on fight start in the building.

You yelled as Namjoon tackled Jungkook around his middle, tackling him to the ground before he reared back his fist to punch him back. 

“Namjoon, stop, STOP!” you yelled as Jungkook flipped Namjoon onto his back, swapping places as he took the liberty to return the blow. Putting down your laptop and bag haphazardly, you rushed closer. Leaning down, you grabbed at Jungkook’s arm that was cocked back to throw another punch, yelling his name frantically.

“Jungkook, Kookie, PLEASE STOP!”

The two men looked at your face, their chests rising and falling rapidly as they tried to catch their breath. Jungkook’s eyes were dilated. As he took in your state, he seemed to come back to his senses. He started to climb up off of where he straddled Namjoon, pinning him to the floor, his hand reaching up towards you from where he was kneeled on the ground.

“Y/N, I’m sorry baby, please just talk to me.” Jungkook’s bottom lip was split, a small bit of blood leaking from the cut. His cheekbone was red; you knew a bruise would form there. Namjoon too tried to sit up, leaning on his elbow as his split eyebrow spilled his blood down the side of his face. He too would be sporting a shiner for the next week or so. 

You almost reached for Jungkook, returned the gesture to cradle that beautiful face, but you couldn’t. Him fighting Namjoon changed nothing about the fact that Somin had the present you gave him, that she brought it to him as if she had given it to him, let alone the response he gave her when he saw it. Backing away, you almost tripped over your belongings before you thought to collect them, and then dashed into the elevator, leaving the two men bleeding on the floor as the doors shut, cutting off the view.

——

Dealing with the aftermath of the fight was not something you thought would be so difficult to do. 

Working remotely meant not being able to turn off your phone so you didn’t miss any important calls or texts. Unfortunately, it also meant you had to deal with the barrage of texts and calls from friends and co-workers wanting to know about the fight. 

According to Jimin, the only person other than Kim who you were responding to, the whole office heard about the fight. With Jin being Jungkook’s roommate, and of course being the resident gossip, news traveled fast that the two men got into a fist throwing match over you. This only had you double down on avoiding messages, calls, and not posting to social media. It was unlike you; as a fashionista who worked with models and artists like SeoulM8 and Kim Seokjin, people looked to your accounts for updates. 

Your silence was killing Jungkook, the one person who had not given up. Jungkook hated to not give people time, but he had the feeling like the more time you had, the faster you would slip from his fingertips. You stared at your phone, watching his name light up on the screen as a picture of the two of you, set as his contact photo, taunted you with memories. 

All you could do was lay there, curled up on your bed in your pajamas for the second day in a row, hating yourself. Hating the fact that you allowed yourself to break your rules, that you let Jungkook into your heart for a second time, only to watch it all come crashing down because he couldn’t let go of Somin. What did Somin have that you didn’t? How was it that she always won?

5 years ago you lost Jungkook to her, after giving him your virginity, something he knew was a big deal, as he had given his to you in exchange. And now again, you had so foolishly fallen into bed with him again, and he ran back to Somin. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice? You were already blaming yourself heavy for this one. 

Another day passed before you finally pulled yourself up out of bed long enough to shower and get dressed in a different set of sweats. A knocking sound at the front door had you tense up. Luckily, your sister answered the door, able to field away anyone who wanted to see you.

Creeping silently to the door of your bedroom, you cracked it open and listened to see who was there. From the angle you could see your sister, but not who was outside, nor could they see you. The warm tone was instantly recognizable, and your eyes widened as your sister looked back at you. Shaking your head profusely, she denied entry and shut the door, walking over to you. You back away from the door, letting her in as you sit on your bed. Crossing your legs, you grabbed a stuffie and clutched it to your chest.

“Hey, can you tell me what happened? Why are you hiding out at home and not answering Jungkook’s calls? What’s going on?”

You sighed, taking a much needed breath before you recounted the whole story. You told her about the journal entries being sent out, about how Namjoon had confronted you leading to you lying and saying you were with Jungkook, who came up with the plan to fake date each other until the Somin and Namjoon issues calmed down for both of you. 

She listened intently, shocked to hear that it was all fake, and she told you as much once you finished sharing about the fight that ensued on Monday.

“Sis, that man loves you. I could see it when he came to the door. I think you should talk to him.”

“No. It’s all my fault all of this happened anyways. If I hadn’t been drunk and sent those messages out, I would have never had to lie to Namjoon and start all of this.”

Yuna squirmed in your computer chair, her mouth twisted as if holding herself back.

“Actually, you didn’t do that.”

“What are you talking about Yuna? I saw the messages. I took the photos the night before because I wanted to upload them to an online journal platform.”

She nodded her head, wringing her fingers in her hand. “I know that, but you didn’t send them… I did.”

You stared at her, anger silently rising as you waited for her to continue. 

“I waited until you got into the shower. You know I read the entry to Namjoon, and so when you got into the shower, I used your phone and sent a message to each guy who’s name was both in the book and in your phone. I wanted you to have someone, instead of always spending your evenings at home, bored.”

“Yuna, you knew that I did not want Namjoon to know, he and Jennie had just... and I was trying to protect him, do you see what this did?!” You threw the plushie at her angrily, standing abruptly.

“I can’t believe you would invade my privacy, you could have ruined my career, if one of those messages had been sent to the wrong person, god damn it Yuna! You’ve ruined my fucking life!”

Yuna was crying, but she set the stuffed bunny back on your bed gently before she got up and headed to leave your room. Pausing at the door, her hand poised on the door knob, she turned back to face you.

“I didn’t ruin your life. You finally had a life. You’re the one running away from it now.”

With those parting words, she left your room, closing the door and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

After Yuna left you, she went to her own room, where she scrolled through social media to find Jungkook. You already blamed her, though she felt like it was misplaced, but she felt like she might as well do something to help fix the situation. Finding Jungkook’s IG account from the photos you tagged him in, she followed him. When he returned the follow, she messaged him to contact her. 

It didn’t take long for him to respond, and she asked him to meet her out somewhere. Agreeing on a local park, Yuna changed her shoes and left you moping in your room, a note on the counter that she was headed out.

Sitting on the bench, it wasn’t hard to spot Jungkook. His tousled black hair peeking from under his black beanie and the familiar black jacket was easy to spot against the white snow that had recently fallen, but like a Seoul snowfall, it wouldn’t stick for long. Carrying a hot cocoa for him and herself, Yuna held it out to him before she sat down, sipping on the warm drink.

“Yuna, I will say I’m surprised you reached out to me.” Jungkook’s usually bright voice was tinged with sadness as he looked over at her.

“I have something to tell you.” Yuna started, and Jungkook’s nerves grew.

“I was the one who sent the journal entry to you. Not my sister.”

“Oh? Okay. Thank you for telling me I guess.” Jungkook took another deep pull from the drink, letting the heat fill his body as he swallowed.

“I mean, I sent it because I didn’t want her to grow old and be alone. Every night, coming home bored to drink wine with her baby sister and watch reruns on Netflix? I wanted her to fall in love. And she did. With you.”

“I don’t think so, Yuna. She wasn’t in love with me.”

“She was; she still is! She told me everything that happened. About how dating you was all fake. But I know it wasn’t. Not for her. And not for you. No one acts the way you two acted. I know my sister; when she told me what happened, I knew that she was hurt because she’s in love with you. Like, still in love with you. She just doesn’t believe you love her back.”

Yuna stared at Jungkook, watching the way her words sank in, waiting to confirm what she already knew: Jungkook was in love with you, too.

Jungkook’s voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “How do I convince her? That I love her back?” 

“I wish I knew Jungkook. I wish I knew. But if you don’t do something soon, I think you’ll lose her.”

——

Friday was New Year’s Eve, and you had to put up with Yuna running around like a lunatic cleaning the apartment to ring in the new year. You had finally resigned yourself to forgiving her for sending the journal entries. It was over and done with, and there was nothing more to do. Monday, you would be back at work like nothing happened, and didn’t want to go into the new year holding onto this year’s anger or sadness.

Yoongi, surprisingly, had reached out to you the day before about a party he was having to ring in the new year, and at first you didn’t want to go, but the longer you thought about it, you figured you should. Why spend the new year at home, where your sister would relentlessly tease you until she left. She had her own plans this year, going to a classmates to drink and watch the fireworks; so if you stayed home, you would be alone.

And you were tired of being alone. Sleeping in, you didn’t get up to join your sister in cleaning until later in the afternoon, going through your closet, bedroom, and bathroom.

You were scrubbing your shower when you heard the doorbell, but your sister, ever the nosey one, yelled that she would get it, so you continued cleaning, forgetting that someone had come to the door by the time you finished cleaning the bathroom. 

When you finally stopped cleaning for the day, it was close to 9 PM, so you decided to get ready for the night out at Yoongi and Hobi’s place. After about an hour and a half, you were dressed, makeup done, and ready for the party. You ventured out of your room, noticing a large blue hatbox on the kitchen counter.

“Yuna! What’s this blue box?” you yelled, and her reply carried from down the hall.

“A delivery, for you, from earlier!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you grumbled, cursing your sibling as you reached to remove the lid off of it. Inside was what looked like a photobook, a beautiful ombre of pinks and purples decorating the cover. Removing it from the box, you flip it open, noticing right away the neat handwriting that could only belong to one person. 

Sighing, you carry it to the couch, where you read the inscription he penned inside. 

“Right at this moment, I think of you.” 

Flipping through the pages, you see he’s created a scrapbook of the past month spent together. Pictures of the two of you at work, the park, each other’s places, and visiting each other’s families. Pictures of you sleeping in his arms, candids where you aren’t even aware of him taking the photos.

Each photo is vibrant, in his style of catching the light just right as it caresses your face, and you’ve never seen yourself look so beautiful. He’s scribbled little notes here and there, of what he noticed or what was happening when he snapped the camera, and you can’t help but blush when you see a photo in there of you after the two of you had sex. 

“I reach out my hand, and feel your breath. With eyes closed, before we know it, we’re together.”

Your fingers trace over the photo, where Jungkook’s face is, looking at you so lovingly as you sleep on his chest, the bed sheets from his childhood bedroom covering you both strategically so nothing indecent shows. 

The last page has a handwritten letter, not unlike the one you wrote for him all those years ago, with a tiger lily pressed inside. You looked up the meaning of the flower earlier in the day when you found the large vase while cleaning. Please love me. With shaky hands, you held the photobook and began to read.

Y/N, 

5 years ago, you thought you were in love. I can tell you with certainty that 5 years later I pray that you are, because I am so in love with you. The way you see me, I don’t think I’ve ever been seen before. My whole life I’ve been behind the camera capturing others. And somehow you have taken the camera from me and now I’m the one being captured and seen. And I love it. You make me feel like I’m not just made up of the same ingredients that make up the stars in the sky, you make me feel like the very galaxy reflected in your eyes when you look at me. You’re beautiful, and I, Jeon Jungkook, am so in love with you. When I say I’ve always loved you, that there is no start, so there can be no end: we are fated—destined; you are mine as much as I am yours. These photos are only a fraction of the way I see you, the many shades that make up who you are, how could I ever capture them all? Please know, I want to spend the rest of time trying. So in case you didn’t see it, or weren’t sure: I love you. I want to be with you. No contracts, just you, wholeheartedly as mine, and me as yours.

——

It was nearing 11 when you reached Yoongi and Hobi’s house, leaving the Uber driver with a confused look at the way you dashed out of his car. You could care less; the man you were in love with was inside that house, right now, and you would be damned to let him get away again.

Pushing through the crowd of bodies, you looked side to side, searching for the familiar black tresses, ears straining to hear his musical laugh or catch someone saying his name. Entering the living room, your eyes fell on the beer pong table, where Jimin and Taehyung were playing against Yoongi and Hobi. 

Destination set on getting to that table, you wade through the throng of people with the obligatory happy new year. Some attempted to stop to ask you how you’ve been, fill you in on the latest office gossip, or inquire about the exact relationship status of Jungkook. Those in the latter category were met with major side-eye. Plastering a fake smile on your face each time, you finally shake the last of them, jogging the last few steps until your right on the edge of the game.

“Y/N! Glad to see you!” Hobi was his typical cheerful self, greeting you with his signature smile as he watched Taehyung try and line up his shot in the cups Yoongi just re-racked.

“Hey Hobi, Happy almost New Year! Have you seen Jungkook?” you asked, skipping straight to the point.

“Um, yea, he came by earlier to drop off a few kegs for us, helped us move the furniture, but he went home. Said he wasn’t really feeling like celebrating.”

Yoongi, who had just grabbed the ping pong balls before they bounced off the table, handed one to Hobi as he gave you a pointed look.

“Yea, looked pretty heartbroken all week, if you ask me.”

“Well, no one did Yoongi. Give her a break,” Hobi answered before turning to you, “he’s probably at home. You can get there before midnight if you get an Uber quick.”

Thanking him, you threw your arms around him and Yoongi in a shared hug before waving to the other two on the far side of the table. You had someplace to be.

Outside in the quiet, you requested an Uber, happy to see one not even 2 minutes away. Thankfully, Jungkook only lived 10 minutes or so from the guys. You hoped traffic would be on your side. You knew you were cutting it close; 11:30 was approaching fast.

The ride to Jungkook’s apartment gave you too much time to think. Those 15 minutes (thanks drunk pedestrians) on the car ride over allowed the nerves to settle in, along with the doubt and fears. What if he didn’t feel that way about you anymore? What if he just wanted to bring you the photobook as a goodbye?

Shaking the thought from your head, you took a deep breath before you climbed out of the car and into the hushed cold of the last day of December. You had never shown up to his place unannounced like this, so used to trailing him into his apartment. The closed door was daunting to you, but you didn’t have much time now.

Knocking louder than you needed to due to those pesky butterflies in your stomach, what feels like an hour is only 10 seconds or so until Jungkook is standing before you. 

“Hi,” you said, breathless from the cold and from the sight of him after so many days apart.

“Hi,” he responded, looking just as mesmerized to see you at his doorstep, “uh, wanna come in?” Jungkook took a step back, giving you space to come in and you stepped forward into the welcomed warmth of his home.

The scene before you is not what you were expecting. Jungkook had been sitting in the dark, a half eaten pizza and a beer bottle on the coffee table, with his favorite blue and grey plaid blanket haphazardly cast aside on the couch; most likely from when he stood to welcome you.

Shucking off your boots, you walked into the living room, Jungkook silently trailing you.

“I—I’ve missed you.” His voice is low, as if afraid he would spook you.

“I’ve missed you too.” You turned to face him, the light from the paused Netflix show reflecting in his beautiful orbs. You took in his face, split lip mostly healed and the bruise faded along his cheek.

“I got your gift.”

“I’m glad.”

The conversation between the two of you was static, neither sure of what to do. The silence ticked on for a few more seconds before you decided to stop being a pussy.

“Did you mean it? What you said?”

“Of course I did.”

“I’m glad,” you repeated his earlier phrase, stepping closer to him. You placed your hands on his chest, solid muscles reacting to your touch as he subconsciously flexed them. “Because I love you, too.”

Rising on your tippy toes, you pressed your lips to his, your body relaxing when you heard the sigh he let out from the contact. His hands pulled you closer, deft fingers gripping you in all the right places as he deepened the kiss. He tasted faintly of pizza and beer, and smelled so strongly of his vanilla musk. You couldn’t believe how much he felt like home to you. Being in his arms felt right. 

Bending slightly, Jungkook wrapped his arms under your thighs and lifted you up, never breaking the kiss. Hoisting you up, he carried you down the hall to his room, foot kicking the door shut behind him. So turned on by his show of strength, you rolled your hips down onto what was his growing length, seeking any friction that would help ease the ache between your thighs. 

Letting out a groan, Jungkook’s hands guided your hips roughly to where he wanted you, lining up your sweet spot so you could grind on him better. Licking into his mouth, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. A slight tug exposed more of his neck, where you planted markers of your territory as you continued rolling your hips in time to his movements. 

“I want you.” The whispered words went straight to your core; hearing Jungkook’s voice break with need, need for you—you couldn’t get out of your clothes fast enough.

“Bed. Now.” You demand, and he laughs as he follows your directives, setting you down once he approached the edge of his queen sized mattress. You tug your jacket off, tossing it to the foot of his bed before peeling your shirt up over your head to reveal your bra to him. He doesn’t get to look too long; you’ve gripped the waistband of his grey sweatpants and pulled them low enough to free him from it’s confines. His cock sprung free, and, licking your lips, you switch positions with him. 

With his back to the bed, you pushed him down, and he went easily. Pressing your hand to his chest, you lay him back as you bend at the waist, bringing your mouth to his leaking head. You lick the bottom of his shaft up to the slit, collecting the pre-cum with the tip of your tongue before you take the head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip. Under your hand, you feel his abdominal muscles contract as he lets out a moan letting you know how good you feel as you take him farther into your mouth. 

Speeding your ministrations, you hollow your cheeks as you slurp around the head, using your hands to massage the dripping spit along the exposed skin you can’t reach. His hands grip your hair creating a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of your face so he can watch you. And wow, does he love the sight of your lips wrapped around his cock, innocent eyes blinking coyly up at him while your mouth is stretched around him. Keep it up and he could cum too quickly in your mouth.

When your free hand traveled to his scrotum, he jumped, feeling an overwhelming sense of pleasure as his sack tensed up.

“Wait, baby, I don’t want to cum yet.” Jungkook panted, and you pop off of him with a lewd sound that filled the quiet of his room.

Tugging you towards him, he scooted back on the bed until his head was flush with the headboard. 

“Strip for me,” he urged, and you did, undoing the button on your jeans and sliding them down until you were naked from the waist down. His eyes stared pointedly at your chest and you unclasped your bra, adding it to the growing pile of clothes the two of you had made. Watching as he shed his shirt before laying back fully, kicking his sweats free from his body, you climbed onto the bed, and he directed you farther up his body until he could maneuver your thighs to either side of his face. 

“Jungkook—”

“I’ve wanted you like this for so long, baby, please.”

Giggling softly, you lowered yourself slowly and he wound his arms around your thighs until his palms were wrestling lightly on them. The slow caress as he drew patterns on your skin matched the same pattern he drew with his tongue, you realized once he had you fully seated. Gripping the headboard, you threw your head back, rolling your hips as his lips and tongue ravaged you, the sexual sounds of him eating you out creating more for him to drink down. 

Curving your back to make you hunch forward, you adjust as the pleasure builds and you see his eyes, those bright galaxies staring at you as he pleasured you to climax and you tensed as the coil in your abdomen snapped, a mix of curse words and his name pouring from your lips as he worked you through it.

Placing your hands on his sweat laced forehead, you pushed to try and pull away from the overstimulation as he let out a laugh.

Scooting yourself down his body once he released you, you fell back and to the side of his muscular thighs, trying to catch your breath. You feel him moving, a low chuckle released as his hands grasped your wrists. Pulling you up, you see he’s now seated flush to the headboard, back against the soft grey padding. He guides your hips so that you straddle him, sitting your still sopping wet cunt onto his cock. Pressed against his stomach, he can feel the warmth emanating from your opening, and groaned, wanting to be inside of you.

Pressing his forehead to yours, his eyes meet yours as he intertwines your fingers before resting your interlocked hands behind your back at the curve of your ass.

“I love you.” His voice is strong, sure and confident in the words he says as he bares more than just his body before you. “I wanted you so badly back then, I want you even more now.” He presses a kiss to your lips, causing you to grind down on him. 

He kisses down your neck, hands still holding you in position over him. “Want to be inside of you, baby.” He nips at your neck, making you gasp, and when you rock forward, he’s rocking his hips down. 

The head of his cock presses against your core, and you settle back onto it, walls stretching to accommodate his girth. The two of you move in tandem, lips once again reunited in a raunchy kiss that only serves to turn you on more, sending enough slick between your lower lips to allow him to slip further into you until he’s bottomed out, a snug fit as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix. 

Releasing your hands, his large palms hold your back to pull you closer to him as you swivel your hips, rocking so the shaft slips in and out of you in short bounces. You rock, arms wrapped lazily around his neck as you play with the wet locks of hair as you ride him at your leisure, just enjoying the feel of your bodies connected as one. Chest to chest, you can feel the speed of his heart beat; it matches your own. 

“Can I go faster?” you asked, not wanting to go at a pace he wasn’t comfortable with.

“You can use me however you want, baby,” he replied, eyebrow cocked smugly as he gripped your waist tighter, “but please tell me I can cum inside.”

Nodding as you sped up, you bounced with more friction, his pelvic bone rubbing against your clit as you chased your high, fucking yourself on his formiddable cock.

“That’s it, fuck, baby, right there—” Jungkook’s moans, musical as he egged you on, brought you to your peak for the second time that night. Your walls clenched around him, and as your body froze, he took advantage of the moment to shift your bodies so you were on your back with your head to the foot of the bed. Bracing his feet on edge where his mattress met the headboard, he began to piston his hips into you, chasing his own high.

“Fuck, Jungkook, I’m gonna—again—” You can barely get the words out when your third orgasm is crashing around you, legs shaking from where they’re wrapped tightly around his narrow hips. Your release makes it wetter, and your swollen walls ache to feel his cum fill you.

“Gonna fill you up so good, baby, fuck a—baby into you, fuck, I want to see you carry my—my kid,” Jungkook’s cock is drowning in your essence, and hearing him talk about kids with you causes you to tighten around him, and he’s cumming, long ropes of his hot cum filling you until it’s seeping out around him as he continues to thrust indiscriminately, velvet muscle milking him dry.

Laying skin to skin in his bed, you laugh as the alarm clock numbers alert you to the fact that you had missed the New Year by 38 minutes. 

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook asked, eyes alight as he takes in your smile. 

“We missed New Year’s.”

“We didn’t miss it, we were simply enjoying our New Year’s kiss for longer than most.” He quipped back, fingers tracing patterns along your back. Your own nails were lightly scratching shapes into his chest as you rested your head on his shoulder. You spent the next 20 minutes of the first hour of the new year listening to him explain what happened with the camera strap, though you had already forgiven the incident. 

He wasn’t sure how Somin had the camera strap, though he suspected she stole it from his bag at the cafe. Jungkook told you about the meeting, how it helped him see that you weren’t a rebound; he was in love with you and while it was obvious to him, a part of him wanted to be sure before confessing to you. He didn’t want you to think he was rushing into things to get over his ex. He also apologized for fighting Namjoon, saying he was worried that seeing him fight would change how you viewed him, change his chances of being with you, this time for real.

“I love you, Jungkook, in case you didn’t know.”

“I love you too, in case you didn’t know.” 

“Hmm, but, I think we need to talk about children though, I think it’s a little too soon, despite our parents' ideas.” You giggled, and his cheeks turned red in embarrassment.

“It was just sex talk, we’re still just practicing, okay?”

Stretching, you roll away from his body, and he follows your body heat subconsciously, his body not wanting you far from him after almost a week of radio silence. 

“Hey, get back here, you’re mine.”

“Oh am I?” you teased, staying just out of his reach.

He pouted, accent slipping out as he moved closer to your retreating body.

“Yes, you’re mine, no rules, no contracts; just mine.”

“ ‘m all yours, baby,” you mumbled as you rubbed your nose to his in an eskimo kiss as he gathered you up in his arms, “and you’re mine.”

UPDATE (5.18.21): 1st Prologue is Out Now!

BTW, ily ⟢ summary: Taking place in the To All the Men I’ve Fucked Before (TATMIFB) AU, this pre-story is the backstory to you and Namjoon’s friendship. A year after losing your virginity to Jungkook, you meet Namjoon, who becomes your best friend… and who you want so much more with. Before you and Jungkook get it together in To All the Men I’ve Loved Before, there was BTW, ily.

Thank you all so much for reading! I plan on doing an epilogue and some drabbles to get more insight into the pasts of these characters! I love them so much, I don’t think I am ready to let go. The masterlist will be updated as more are added! TATMIFB Masterlist

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2021. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[watermelonlipstick]

Septic

This was written as a request for anon, who asked:

I was wondering if I could request one with Dean. The reader's injury gets badly infected and she gets a high fever and they are stuck somewhere and can't go to the hospital (maybe a cabin during a snow storm or something else if you want?). Anyway her condition keeps getting worse and dean is doing everything he can to keep her alive? As for their relationship it's up to you, whether they're dating or hiding their feelings...?

I hope this is something along the lines of what you were thinking. I decided to go with a ‘hiding from Leviathans’ angle because that seemed the closest to canon compliant to me. Thanks in advance for reading; I would love any advice or critiques!!

Title: Septic

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2124

Summary: Unable to go to a hospital for fear of getting trapped by Leviathans, Dean tries his best to manage the reader’s worsening infection and fever. 

Warnings: fever, illness, swearing, implied threat of death, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff (maybe? if you squint)

           “Dude, I have a fever, I haven’t been decapitated. Can you stop pacing? Sam’ll be back in a couple days, I’ll take some Tylenol and sleep it off, we’ll be good as new in no time.”

           He glared down at you where you laid on Rufus’s couch with flared nostrils. “You’re shivering under every goddamn blanket in this place and it’s been 3 days already. We’re going to a hospital.”

           You rolled your eyes at him and tried to hide the way you snuggled deeper into the woolen bundle. “So dramatic. As if we wouldn’t get made walking in the door. And if you’re so worried about me, why don’t you make yourself useful and get me a hot water bottle and some tea?” You tried to give him your most casual smile in reassurance.

           Dean appraised you with a hard set to his jaw and a twinge of concern at his eyebrows for a moment before relenting. “Fuck, fine. One more day and if the fever hasn’t broken, then we’re going.” It was only a few steps to the kitchen, and you heard him putting a pot of water on to boil. “You sure I can’t just do coffee? I don’t know how you drink this stuff.”

           Like it always did, Dean’s aversion to tea made you laugh. “It’s literally just mint flavored water—you act like you haven’t drunk all kinds of potions and hangover cures.”

           “The fact that I have drunk all kinds of potions and hangover cures should show you how gross it is.” He tossed a hot water bottle covered in worn waxed canvas on top of your blankets and you shimmied it under your feet while he got the tea together. After a moment, he set the tea (and a plastic bear full of honey, which made you smile to yourself) on the coffee table next to you. “Can we at least watch something else? These chicks are driving me fucking nuts.”

           That made you laugh hard enough to shake loose the blanket corners tucked in under your chin. “You might be able to trick Bobby into thinking you don’t like the Real Housewives, but I’m not buying it for one second.”

           He shot you some side eye but didn’t protest, patting your feet in a signal to raise them so he could sit with your legs in his lap. You didn’t remember past the first few minutes of the next episode.

           “Hey, come on, you gotta drink something.”

           You squinted up at Dean, feeling the sickly stickiness of dried and re-soaked sweat in Dean’s stolen sweatshirt where it bunched around your neck. “You want me to sleep, you want me to wake up, pick a lane, asshole,” you tried to joke, feeling each word like a stab in your, well, stab wound. It took more focus than it should’ve too hold onto Dean’s face where he perched on the coffee table right in front of you.

           “You’ve been asleep for 16 hours, Rip Van Winkle. And you’re sweating like a whore in church, gotta rehydrate.”

           “Thanks, Nurse Ratched,” you croaked, carefully keeping your face neutral around the throbbing ache in your side as you sat up and accepted the bowl of broth from Dean. When his hands were free, he put the back of his hand to your forehead in a very maternal way that might’ve made you giggle if you weren’t in so much pain.

           Dean’s lips pressed into a tight line and he breathed a hard “fuck,” as he sat back. “Lemme see it.”

           “If you wanted to get me naked, all you had to do was ask,” you tried to joke.

           “No slick shit, I’m serious. The fever’s getting worse.” There wasn’t even a touch of playfulness in his tone, tight chord of anxiety clipping his words.

           “It’s going to be pink and raw like every other set of infected stit—”

           “Cooperate or don’t, but my bet is there’s no way you can slip out of getting pinned right now.”

           “Who knew you were so kinky, Dean?”

           He didn’t rise to the teasing at all, the just-this-side-of-friendly banter you normally had, and it made the nervous bile rise a few degrees in your throat. You eased back and slowly flipped down the blankets, immediately started shivering as you pulled up your damp layers to show him your stomach.

           It was worse than you’d thought it would be even before he tenderly pulled back the tape to see the injury itself, the gauze a mottled tie-dye of blood and greenish pus. The stitches strained against swollen, angry tissue oozing at the corners, and you looked away to hold onto a little denial that you weren’t completely fucked. “Jesus Christ, kid,” Dean murmured. He reached behind him for a bottle of rubbing alcohol and you didn’t even try to argue, hissing and grabbing his wrist when he poured it over the wound. Dabbing off the worst of the external mess with the moisture, you watched as his mind raced.

           You decided to try to grab the reins of the situation before he locked you both into a crazy plan. “Help me up, I want to take a shower. I feel disgusting.”

           “Can you even stand?”

           You rolled your eyes at him exasperatedly.

           “Roll your fucking eyes at me all you want, you look like Marvin the Martian. Can’t believe I let your dumb ass talk me out of taking you to a hospital.”

           “I’ve got a much better chance of beating a little infection than I do the combined force of however many Leviathans are looking for us and the full force of the federal government. Now get out of my way if you’re not going to help me up, I need a shower.”

           He pushed back the coffee table and watched you stand up, grabbing your arm and waist when you immediately swayed. “Goddamn it, sit back down, I’m getting your shoes.”

           “Dean. I am not going to a hospital. Especially not before Sam gets back. Not a negotiation. I just—you’re freaked out, I get it. I just need you to please let me call the play for once.”

           His jaw muscles tightened into firm balls and you could see the flare of panic behind his gaze as he flicked between your eyes. Ultimately he didn’t say anything, just giving you a tight nod and offering a hand to guide you up and to the bathroom. When you’d gotten there, he hovered in the doorway as you started to peel off layers, hoping that your leaning on the sink didn’t look as obvious as it felt. “Think I can take it from here, chief,” you offered, hoping he’d take the hint.

           “Not adding a head injury to this bullshit stew, sorry.”

           “No way, psycho. You’re not watching me shower.”

           His face screwed up in a scowl. “I’m not going to watch you shower, I’m just staying in here while you do in case you get dizzy again.”

           “Dude—”

           “Not a negotiation,” he growled, spinning your words back on you. You held each other’s stubborn gazes for a long beat before you gave in, getting in the tub and yanking the curtain closed with the rest of your clothes on, shucking the rest of them off and dropping them outside the tub behind the plasticized shield and curtain. You turned the water on and held onto the dial for support, hearing Dean’s movement in the bathroom as he sat down on the lidded toilet next to the shower. Laborious as it was, it felt a lot better getting clean. You’d started washing your hair when he started to talk.

           “You know what you’re asking me to do, right?”

           “Let me take a shower in peace?” You didn’t want to acknowledge the elephant in the room—what was the point?

           “If you’re not septic yet you will be in a day or two.”

           “By which time Sam will be back and you guys can strong arm some vet into giving me antibiotics like the mafiosos you fancy yourselves to be.”

           “Don’t deflect.” It was quiet but firm, and you blinked away the way your vision was starting to fuzz out at the edges. Something about it finally got you to drop the joking, if only for a second.

           “I know what I’m asking you to do.” You hoped he could hear the resolution in your voice.

           Dean was silent for a long enough beat that you thought maybe he hadn’t heard you, but you heard the roughness in his voice when he finally replied. “Please don’t make me?”

           The shower washed away a hot, stupid tear when it shot out of your eye like a kamikaze at his vulnerability. “I can’t be the reason you guys get caught.” You were clean now, but something about the confession-style quality of the shower curtain and the way it was letting both of you say what you really meant held you in the stream of water anyway.

           “I’m not—it’s going to fuck me up forever, you know that, right?” It was almost a grunt, the way Dean’s voice strained as he pleaded with you.

           “Long as you guys are alive.”

           He didn’t respond.

           After a long minute you felt your legs start to turn to jello. “You have something out there I can put on?”

           You heard him clear his voice, sticky and coarse. “Gimme a second.”

           A callused hand shot behind the shower curtain with a towel before Dean’s footsteps got quieter, and you tried your best to dry yourself off without stumbling. Not 15 seconds later, a bundle of clothes came in the same way. You smiled to yourself at your underwear and yoga pants with Dean’s t-shirt; he would’ve had to deliberately go into 2 different bags to get the clothes, no way it was an accidental grab. When you were dressed, you tugged the shower curtain back and didn’t argue when Dean wrapped his arm around your waist to ease you out of the tub, let him guide you back to the couch and fussily rearrange your blankets and pillows before he got out his first aid supplies.

           You watched his face as he worked on cleaning the wound again, knowing he just needed to be doing something, that he couldn’t just sit still and hope it got better. You could give him that, sat stock still even when it stung like a bitch and didn’t even tease him when he made you swallow a handful of vitamins as though that would help. Another cup of soup eaten silently and two mugs of tea later, your eyelids were beginning to droop again.

           “Tired?” he murmured, messing with the cover of the hot water bottle before ultimately getting up to refill it.

           “A little, yeah. Will you, um, will you sit with me?”

           Dean mercifully didn’t acknowledge the shake in your voice, nodding gently and sliding himself beneath you on the couch, tucking you under his arm and onto his chest, burrowing you both into the cushions. You reached your hand out of the blankets to place your palm over his heart, feeling the vibrating thrum of his pulse under your fingertips and cheek. His hand shifted so that he was smoothing the drying hair back from your temple, and after a few beats he bent his neck to kiss the crown of your head. The tenderness of it, the giving in to your request, pulled another tear out of your eye that fell straight into the cotton of Dean’ t-shirt underneath you.

           He sounded like he’d just woken up, that sleepy-syrupy sandpaper of a long night on his vocal cords. “You know, right? If it was going to be anyone for me, it would’ve been you?”

           The weight of it turned the blankets on top of you into a hug. You were nodding into him before you could speak, the tears turning your voice creaky-soft. “Same to you, dummy.” He chuckled once nostalgically at the ribbing, and you felt the rumble of it under you. “Thank you, Dean.”

           You felt the tension of the hiccupped breath before Dean got it under control to answer. “I love you, kid.”

           “Love you too.” It was the only thing to say, and neither of you had to answer or explain this undercurrent that had never been acknowledged so plainly before, no matter how rock solid it might’ve been for years. You laid there together for a long time, beating of Dean’s heart underneath you something constant to hold onto, warmth off his body better than any hot water bottle. The last thing you remembered before passing out was hearing Sam walk through the front door.

-

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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[borkthemork]

Drabble Request: Anne and Marcy after her rescue

You know what, Anon? You get a 2,600 word draft as a treat. Thank you for your patience!

-----

Anne had read books before.

She wasn't the kind of person to read long-winding literature like the typical bookworms back home, but she did read whatever interested her. From magazines to comics to zoo books about bird mating dances, Anne liked stuff that had meat to it.

Give her enemies to lovers, she'd cheer at the makeouts. Give her gut wrenching biographies about surviving the Himalayas, she'd bawl her eyes out. And if one gave her story about being one's true self under the guise and acceptance of a duck instructor then she'd quack it up and never be heard from again.

There needed to be meat, drama, scenes of people kissing in the rain. Stories were all about getting punched in the gut over some random guy, and that would always be the best part!

So she had no idea why Cynthia Coven never stood out to her.

It might be because of the choppy writing style or perhaps fantasy wasn't her thing, but that didn't make sense to her. After all, she'd read anything as long as it was interesting and somehow the Coven books just…didn't stick?

Sure, Cynthia had a pet squirrel. Anne could find a squirrel at the park anytime. Cynthia had spells, curses, people with talking body parts that shouldn't be talking at all. Okay, cool — ugh, why wasn't she interested? Everything about it seemed right up her alley!

She chalked it up to preferences and moved on. 

But somehow, after all these years, the same book fluttered between the pages in her hands. And she found herself narrating, speaking the paragraphs out loud under the green canvas of her tent. 

All because the bedridden girl beside her couldn't sleep. 

It had been forty-six hours since Anne and the girls united. It felt a lot longer than that, if she wanted to be honest, but all the footing, fighting, and planning they did to get out unharmed from Andrias's castle had taken a toll on them. And for Mar-mar even more so, what with the amount of stuff that went down. A lot of explosions. Crying. Frog-on-frog violence.

So in this tent came privacy. Not enough privacy to basically stop Sprig or Sasha from barging in, but the makeshift walls were one of the most protected cliff faces inside the forests. So they were basically between a rock and a hard place.

And since Amphibia's nature became a hazard to not only the typical frog but aggro robot intruders, nothing got through as a threat in the end. Not even the huge mother frobo that she and Sash fought days prior.

Anne flipped a page.

The cold draft had slipped in and raised goosebumps on her umber skin. It almost seemed surreal that Summer started to transition out with the months passing, but the chirp of birds and the lack of cicada song had marked a new season, and now Anne shivered slightly with her narration.

Marcy's wounds needed to heal. From the remains of the stab wound to the headache to the numerous nicks upon her feet, if she didn't start sleeping then the medicine Maddie gave wouldn't come into effect anytime soon.

And if she didn't snore in the next ten minutes, Sash would have to knock her out with some sleepshroom grub saute and Anne wasn't going to let her get drugged anytime soon.

But from what was currently happening, Anne became unsure.

Marcy's eyes fluttered shut a few times. She would start drifting off at some random part in the story and then jolted back to listening intently as if nothing had happened. Nothing in the book could get her to sleep. Not Cynthia's introduction to werebeasts, her dramatic one-liners, or how she got knocked out for a minute straight from drinking a pint of Canadian beer.

Wait, could teens drink beer in Canada? Gah, that wasn't important!

What was important was that Marcy looked dead — terrifyingly dead — and no matter how much Anne tried to keep her eyes on the words, the fear clung to the recesses of her mind, asking if everything was going to be alright despite the girls' current luck streak.

That maybe this would be the last time she'd ever see Marcy alive. All because she fell asleep.

Anne leveled her voice when these thoughts struck her, and hoped Marcy didn't note the hitch in her throat or how she blinked faster to catch herself from crying.

Because Marcy was strong. She was stronger than people gave her credit for.

Anne peered down. Marcy's thumb had pressed to the side of Anne's fingers, their eyes meeting for a second; one harbored bags under her eyes, the other of worry.

"I promise I'll sleep." Her smile reached her gaze, the weariness plain on her worn out dimples and ashen cheeks. Anne might need a washcloth later. "It's been a long time since I've read the Cynthia Coven series, my brain can't help but pay attention."

"I know, Mar-mar." Anne closed her eyes for a second and let out a relaxed sigh. "Seven months can be pretty long."

"Tell me about it." Marcy's eyes lingered at the ceiling, licking her lips. "I've been so busy with everything that's been happening that I've barely caught up with the latest book."

"Yeah." Anne smiled. "You know they've got a new release out?"

She blinked. Almost as if Anne punched her in the face at that moment. "Are you serious? Aw man, I missed so much."

"Hey, it's alright. It'll be waiting for you when we get back." Besides, Anne already wrapped the edition in a lot of Christmas paper, might as well keep the surprise.

But Marcy still looked miserable. She pouted,  letting her sink more into the mattress almost comically, and Anne bit back a laugh when she groaned. "Oh man, I'm so excited, this sucks! At least tell me if Cynthia gets over the Bridge of Quintessence."

"I don't know what that means and besides, you're two books behind, why would you wanna spoil it!"

They shared a laugh and carried on. Anne missed this. She did. In between the page clips and the eagerness flowing in Marcy's voice, it almost seemed like they were back to what they once were: Two girls laughing and making fun of bad jokes, giggling at stuff that didn't make sense in the story. It almost made the worries over Andrias and her parents grow into background noise.

Almost.

Anne perked up. A question had flown past her, and now Marcy stared at her, inquiry clear in her eyes. "Oh, sorry, I zoned out a bit. What'd you say, Marbles?"

"I'm curious, Annarama."

"Curious about what?"

Marcy's eyes traveled over her shoulder for a second. Was it the fatigue? Judging from how she fiddled with her fingers, the question must've been something serious, maybe something about Andrias or what happened back in the castle.

Whatever it was, Anne readied herself as she waited.

And then:

"Is that mine?"

Anne blinked. She ogled her book, then at the bedside table with its medicinal herbs, then the Thai Go logo printed fresh on her shirt. "What's yours?"

She pointed to Anne's waist.

When Anne looked down, the realization struck her like a bat. Under the filtered sunlight, she almost forgot that the yellow jacket around her waist was there to begin with, snug and tight in that hard knot Anne tied everytime she stepped out of the house.

And somehow, it remained clean from countless dimensional hops and Super Saiyan power-ups. And now it was here. Being scrutinized by her and the girl opposite her.

With that, she started to sweat.

Right, that.

A nervous laugh burst out from her mouth, making Marcy stare at her more out of concern.

How was she going to explain that?

"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot!" She rubbed her neck, trying her best to pick out the right reasons in her mind, but nothing stuck out to her. "It's a funny story actually, so funny that you'll probably forget in the morning so why not another time?"

A smile formed. "I don't know, Anne." Her eyes scrunched up too in pleasure, pressing her thumb against Anne's knuckles. "I'm all for sleeping to a comedy. Remember when we watched Borat? I laughed so hard I passed out."

"Oh, Mar-mar, that's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?" She then pulled her hand away, frowning. "Unless I'm pushing you, then I'll just—"

"No, no. You're fine!" What wasn't fine was how her heart pounded against her chest. Or, that the more she tried to take a deep breath, Marcy's growing concern made her laughter sound more like an old man wheezing from an asthma attack.

Anne was about to make a dumbass out of herself and that was fine! As long as she stayed calm and explained then maybe she wouldn't feel nervous about this.

Wait, why was she nervous anyway? It was just a jacket!

Oh, she knew why.

"Okay." Anne placed the book down, trying to regain her breath. Might as well go for it. What was the worst that could happen? Don't answer that. "So you remember how I've been trying to find my way back after I got through the portal?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I didn't want to forget. Not like I would've but I thought you died and I knew taking down Andrias was the only way to avenge you and get Sasha back." Anne sharply inhaled — words speeding past her ears. "So I thought 'Hey, I'll carry your jacket so I don't forget' and I basically wore it around everyday until I finally found a way back. So…"

Marcy's stare didn't help her sweating as she spoke, giving jazz hands to finish it all off. "Here I am. Yeah."

Marcy continued to stare at her. She'd never seen her this gobsmacked before; usually she found a way to ask questions, to let her enthusiasm shine through with eager stride, but now she became a deer in the highlights. All agape. All wide-eyed.

Oh Frog, I broke her.

"Mar-mar, you okay?"

"So you wore my jacket as a reminder to stop Andrias," she asked slowly, "after months of finding a way back?"

Anne puffed out her cheeks. "Maybe?"

"Anne…"

"Okay, okay, yeah." She hung her head, defeat in her voice. "I did."

"Oh." Marcy's eyes widened to the size of saucers, a shaky exhale breaking through. "Oh."

Anne stood up. If she didn't get out in the next fifteen seconds, she was going to explode. "Okay, yep! That's it for the Cynthia Coven series! Goodnight, Mar-mar, I'll check up on you later—!"

"Wait, wait!"

Marcy latched onto her wrist. Her ears pounded on, hard to focus with her sweaty palms and the shallowness of her breath. Because this whole situation was awkward and weird and it made her feel funny things in her heart and darn it Anne should've handled this back on Earth — not while they were stuck in the middle of a Frog darn war!

"Anne, please look at me."

She did. 

When she turned, the sight surprised her. Marcy's cheeks had darkened considerably as they held each other's gazes, the hold on her arm still having them tethered to one another.

Then the touch loosened slightly. It didn't speak of fear nor did it speak of pain. It didn't speak of the desperation Marcy once had when she held her fists in the broken halls of the Newtopian castle. What Anne instead found was reassurance. A reassurance in their interlocked hands, at how they gazed intently under the tent canvas, a heat creeping well onto Anne's cheeks too.

"It's really sweet that you wore my jacket like that." Marcy then bore down at the bedding lines, almost squeaking her words. "And very clever! Yeah! Because a physical reminder is a great alternative to notebooks and to-do list, and since my jacket has emotional connotations to me, of course you'd wear it! It just makes sense."

Marcy coughed into her sleeve, words almost a whisper. "You've always been good at improvising, after all."

"Mar-mar..."

"And thank you."

Anne stopped. She could've honed in on the bustling Wartwoodians outside. Or the rustle of the forest trees. But she focused on the comforting tap of Marcy's fingers, and the gleam in the girl's eyes — almost as if Marcy was about to cry.

"You've always been kind," she murmured. Her fingers trailed circles on Anne's palms, leaving her to shudder slightly under the touch. Especially when Marcy's eyes grew half-lidded. Remorse on her lips. "And to know you worked so hard after everything I did to you and Sash, I don't how I'll ever make it up for it."

"You don't have to do that," she said. Her words drifted between them, remembering what Mrs. Wu said a few months ago: That Marcy was the best out of all of them. Because she always needed to be. "What Andrias did was not your fault, and I'll beat him again if he ever makes you think it is."

"Besides," she said, putting on a smile. "Having you beside me has always been enough. Honest."

But Marcy's grief remained on her face, unspoken as her fingers faltered their dragging on Anne's palms.

Because she wanted to hold her hand instead, both their fingers trembling from the bedridden girl's arm.

"Anne, I hurt you. I did. No matter how much I try to justify myself, I still omitted everything about what I knew." Her eyebrows furrowed, glaring more at their shaky hands. "I was selfish. I wasn't honest."

"Don't say that. You didn't know this would happen, I understand this now."

"But you're still angry." Marcy sighed. "I know you are."

The conifers rustled silently. The faraway bugs whistled, occupying each interval as they held hands, their gazes observing anything but the other. Until Anne couldn't think up a better excuse anymore.

As much as Anne tried to forgive, there was something frightening about the resentment in her skin, underneath all that warmth. It went against every lesson she learned. Every lesson of compassion. Or maybe she was just denying it for what it truly was — a tight angry wound that had reason to exist as much as their handlock. 

Her body sagged at the thought. She'd gotten so far, trying to deny anything about herself would reverse so much.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I'm still mad. I don't want to be, but I am. But that doesn't mean I was gonna leave you guys in the middle of a war." The next words were under her breath. "I never wanted you guys to get hurt in the first place."

Marcy brushed her knuckles. "Take as much time as you need."

"I think a few months is enough."

"Or a year."

A smile. "Maybe more."

And Anne held her hand until the silence heard their heartbeats. Until their smiles returned slowly, surely.

"I talked to Sasha before you came in," Marcy said.

"You did?"

She nodded. "Mhm. And I don't know if she told you this, but we both agreed to a concordance." Marcy faltered. "An agreement I mean."

Anne snorted. "You don't have to dumb yourself down around me."

"Heyy, I'm not, I just don't want this to sound...clinical."

"Right."

The younger girl shuffled closer to her, which was surprising enough with the limited room on the bed itself. But when Anne held her eyes, there came recognition of something new. Was it relief? Worry?

"What we agreed on is that you don't have to forgive us. Maybe you'll be mad at us for a long time—"

"Mar-mar, I'm not—"

"Let me finish," she said softly. Anne hesitated. She resolved to caress Marcy's knuckles instead, and, of course, she didn't seem to mind. "Whatever happens, whatever you decide, we're not going to abandon you. If you want us out of your life, we'll respect it. If you want us to stay, then we'll respect that too."

Marcy inhaled, slow and careful. 

"And when you're ready, I'll make sure to be close by."

There had been times where Anne couldn’t predict what her future held. There had been numerous moments where Anne wanted to quit, to get angry, to question how her life hit upon all these coincidences like pinball and found herself in the most surprising of situations.

But when Marcy finished, stared at her, waiting for her to let her statement sink in, everything seemed to click in place. For just a single moment.

Each word had come out resilient, well thought-out. Anne could imagine the planning so clearly: How Sasha and Marcy sat in the same positions as them, sat with their heads together as they discussed what to say. And the more Anne listened, she could only hope that Sasha was just around the corner, ready to say the same things in her own Sasha-like way.

But for now, they gripped each other's hands, squeezed their fingers until Anne could only think of the heat. The burn in her nose. Then the bit-back sob and her trembling lip as Marcy pressed a thumb carefully to Anne's cheek, rubbing the tear trail away.

Because out of everything Anne predicted to find at the other end of the portal, it wasn’t this. 

"You promise?"

Marcy smiled, the ends of her lips twitching weakly. "I promise this time." Her voice broke. "I do."

With it, came the waterworks.

[inhuman-obey-me]

The Agony & The Ecstasy

Can also be read on AO3 here

Word Count: 5.2k

Description: #HappyBirthdayAsmodeus 2021!! Before he was the Avatar of Lust, he was the Jewel of the Heavens. A journey from the angel Asmo used to be, to the demon he's become.

[cw: sexual mentions]

The Agony

He sat before the mirror of his bedroom, sketching his lean cheeks with their high bone ridges, his soft lips, the gentle curls of his champagne-toned hair, the light in his orange-yellow eyes.

The Jewel of the Heavens, they called him. The most beautiful of the angels. So lovely that even Jophiel, the patron angel of artists, had asked if she could have a painting to keep of him. And so, here he was, trying to capture his image on canvas for the archangel.

Asmodeus was proud of how everyone admired him, but truthfully he didn't think it was anything so special. Rather, he was more focused on how lovely everyone else around him was. He wouldn't say that he wasn't beautiful, but so was anyone, in one way or another. There was so much to admire in everyone that his heart ached every day. He longed to help them see themselves the way he saw them.

The lilting notes of a bird's song through the open window broke him out of his thoughts, and he set his sketch down for the moment to greet it.

"Well hello, bluebird dear," he greeted it with a smile, holding his hand out. "How are you today?" The bird trilled with delight in response, rubbing its head against his fingers, and he laughed, petting the creature. "Your singing is so lovely, my dear. What a beautiful day to hear your song."

"Oi, Asmo, good, you're here!" he heard his brother call from below the window. "Lilith and the twins snuck off down to the human world again, could ya go get them? Geez, those troublemakers...I've gotta help Lucifer with somethin' so I need you to go, okay?"

"Whaaaat, they went and they didn't invite me?" he pouted. "I can't believe them!"

"Hey, hey, that's not the point," Mammon groaned, rolling his eyes at his younger sibling. "Gabriel is looking for Beel and Belphie, and you know he'll flip if he finds out they went down to the human realm without permission."

"Okay, okay, I got it. I'll get them, don't worry! Walk with me to the portal?"

"Agh, I'm busy you know," Mammon groaned, though he didn't seem all that upset. "But fine, I get it, ya wanna spend some time with your big older brother! Leave it to Mammon!"

"You tell yourself that," Asmo giggled. He hopped down from the window, fluttering down gracefully on the lightness of his robes. "So where in the human world do you think they went this time?"

"Well, you know, Belphie always wants to go to that circus he likes. He mighta dragged the other two along with him."

"Ooooh, right, the circus! The acrobats are so graceful, with the way they glide around in the air. They don't even have wings, but they figured out a way to look like they're flying! Humans really are interesting, aren't they?"

"You think so? I think it's kinda scary, man," Mammon shuddered.

"Well just because you might trip over yourself even on the ground doesn't mean everyone's that clumsy!" Asmo teased.

"Oi! Take that back! I can walk just fine, thank you!"

"Heehee!"

"Anyway, if they're not at the circus, maybe one of those restaurants? Beel's been eating a lot lately, maybe he wanted to try some human realm food."

"Ah, yeah! The fancy restaurants down there make such pretty dishes! The chefs are such artists," Asmo said admiringly, eyes glittering. "I'd like to try one too..."

"Hey, don't forget you're goin' there to get the twins to come back! Don't get distracted by running off down there yourself!"

"But I never get to go down to see the human realm! And the three of them like it so much, you know, it'd be nice to see how pretty everything is for myself," Asmo smiled innocently.

The two of them stopped as they reached their destination.

"Oi, Asmo, I'm serious. You better not go off hitting on everyone you see again," Mammon warned.

"Hey! I'm not hitting on them, I just think everyone is beautiful, and they should know it," Asmo protested. "You're just jealous because they like me more than you. But if you saw the good in everyone you met like me, they'd love you too! You should try it sometime!"

"Ugh, Asmo...don't be gross. And seriously, come right back once you find them. Gabriel's gonna have my hide too if they don't report to him soon, after he asked me to send them over."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay, I'll be back before you know it!"

The younger brother waved breezily as he stepped through the portal.

--

When the light of the portal faded from his vision, Asmodeus found himself in a quiet, hidden spot of a sunny park. Birds chirped, dogs were playing, and he could hear the screaming laughter of children from farther away. In the distance, he could see a news board by the nearby street, which seemed as good a place as any to start checking for information about the circus.

Before he could make it over there, though, a young woman stopped him. "Ahh, excuse me! I just, um, y-you're really handsome, and um...I-I just wanted to say hello. Are you visiting our town? Would you like to spend some time together....maybe come with me to the bakery down the street?! I want to get to know you," she blurted out.

He laughed with delight. "Oooh, aren't you adorable! Forget me, you're so pretty yourself! Your skin is so radiant, and your eyes are so sweet," he cooed. She blushed bright red at the compliments immediately. "Oh! But...I don't have time to go to a bakery right now, I'm looking for my little siblings. Unless you've seen a pair of boys with a girl around there? A tall guy with orange hair, and a sleepy black-haired boy?"

"I, um..." she paused, mind racing on how to keep him interested. "You know, I-I might have seen them. Or maybe, um...maybe the baker has! P-people are going in there all the time, you know, s-so maybe he might have seen them...? I'm sure he'll be able to help!"

It was fairly obvious that she was lying, but Asmo couldn't help but be charmed by her shy attempts at staying with him. His heart tugged him to go along with it anyway, just as it tugged at anyone he came across, especially those who were so drawn in by him too. He couldn't help it, even if it got him into trouble at times. So he agreed.

"Hmm, is that so? Okay! Let's go then."

She led him along the road to the bakery, an extravagant little spot for the size of the shop, where the man at the counter unhelpfully told them that he'd seen a lot of boys around and couldn't possibly remember them all. "Maybe if you buy some bread, I might remember better. I recommend some of these tarts...and you'd better take this big loaf right here too, to be sure I don't forget again," he said with a vicious grin. "We charge by the ounce, of course."

The angel gave him a bright smile back. "Oooh, they do look delicious! You must be so talented to create such beautiful things, sir! Oh, but...I don't have any money on me..."

This clearly irked the man, though something about Asmo's cheerful expression at least stopped him from throwing the pair straight out of the shop, as he usually might with people like this, who came in with no money. He eyed the golden bangle on his visitor's wrist. "Give me that then," he demanded, pointing. "I'll give it to my daughter. She'll like it."

Against his better judgment, the angel obliged. After all, it was just a part of the human world disguise he wore - he could just make another one later. And the baker was going to give it to his daughter, which was certainly kind. Or at least, he thought that was better than just selling it, like most people would. How lovely for a father to want to give his daughter nice presents. "Here, you can have this then. So, about my brothers...?"

The human greedily snatched the bangle from his palm. "Sure, they came in, just about an hour ago probably. The orange-haired one bought more bread than I thought I would sell all day. The girl, she was talking about wanting to visit someone in town. She didn't mention where, but it sounded like it was near the square. And the boys, they wanted to go to the circus that's visiting. They're over at the edge of town."

Satisfied with this new information but not exactly pleased about what the exchange had cost him, he thanked the baker and excused himself from both humans.

Frustrating as it was, this was how it always went. Asmodeus felt himself filled to the brim overflowing with love for everyone, painfully so. And no matter how they lied, or tried to trick him, or took advantage of him, he still loved them so much. It wasn't that he was naive, or that he didn't notice, but just that he always still saw the good parts of them too.

At least he knew where to head from here, though. It sounded like Lilith had probably split off from the twins, but since Mammon had only asked him to send Beel and Belphie back, he'd worry about her later. First, the circus.

Luckily, by this point, Belphegor had been caught dragging his twin to such shows often enough that Asmo could pretty easily predict what area of the audience he'd find them in. He made his way into the tent and quickly located the pair. "You two!" he hissed quietly from the row behind them. "You know you shouldn't be running off to the human world while everyone is still working! Mammon said Gabriel was looking for you. You'd better get back, right now!"

The twins looked at him guiltily, two sets of apologetic eyes. "Sorry, it's my fault...Lilith said she wanted to visit someone, and you know Lucifer always scolds her not to go down alone. So I said we should come too," Beelzebub explained quickly.

"It's my fault too, Beel," Belphie added. "After she met up with them, I wanted to come see the circus again...sorry."

"Ahhh, okay, okay! I can't be mad at such cute younger brothers! Just hurry up and go!" Asmo said, waving away their apologies. "I'll find Lilith to make sure she comes back okay too."

Relieved at his easy forgiveness, the two of them slipped out quietly to head back.

The elder brother sat there a while longer. He'd never actually been to a circus himself before, and he was curious. It was entrancing - contortionists twisting their bodies in fascinating ways, trapeze artists flying gracefully across the air, the balance of the tightrope walkers and the authority of the ringmaster. Though he didn't know them, his heart ached with admiration at the performers below. It was easy to see why their youngest brother loved coming to these so much.

Before he knew it, he had stayed to the end of the show, and the audience was filtering out around him. But he didn't want to leave just yet, and longed for more. Without really thinking, he wandered out to the back of the tent, to the performer's entrance.

"Oh? A fan?"

He blushed a little as realized his mistake, meeting the eyes of the acrobat who had addressed him. "Hi there! I guess you could call me a fan, yes? Your performances out there were just sooo beautiful!"

An amused smile crossed her face. "Well aren't you a cutie. What's your name, hon?"

"I'm Asmodeus!" he replied cheerily. "But my brothers call me Asmo."

"Asmo, eh? Heh. Well, thanks for the compliments, Asmo," she said, leaning in to play with a strand of his hair. "I'm Naamah. Glad you enjoyed the show."

From this close, he could see every detail of how stunning the woman was. Her makeup was thick, as it needed to be for the stage, but it suited her somehow, like her face had always been meant to wear it this way. A tight bun of dark hair sat atop her head, ringed by a blue and red crown of feathers that matched the bright colors of a costume that showed off every curve of her slender, athletic body.

"In fact, Asmo, my dear fan," she continued, "today's your lucky day. I don't feel like sticking around for another of the top hat's fucking lectures about how we need to do better tomorrow. So what do you say we go find ourselves a party, love?"

He thought guiltily back to Lilith, who he had promised to find and escort home. But on the other hand, she had come to see someone, and he didn't really know when she'd be done meeting with this person, or where they were at this point. And he'd never actually been to a party before...

--

"Have another drink, Asmo, I insist," Naamah laughed tipsily, passing him another cup of wine. "You act like you've never let loose before!"

Truthfully, he sort of hadn't, and for his part, Asmodeus was having a magnificent time. A quaint little band of musicians played upbeat, joyful music from the edge of the courtyard, which was packed with merry folks in all sorts of costumes. His new friend had mentioned on their way here that it was a costume party, and the costumes truly did not disappoint - people here were dressed up as angels, demons, all kinds of animals, and even as things he'd never heard of before. Even after changing partially back into his angel form to let his wings free, he didn't feel like he stood out any more than anyone else.

And the dancing! The overflowing love he felt had an outlet for once, here where he could feed the energy back through his movements, passing from partner to partner without anyone to scold him for being too loose with his love. He couldn't help but think that the Celestial Realm felt so stuffy by comparison - all music back home being generally restricted to choirs to their father, and none of the raucous laughter and chatter filling the air the way the humans were doing here. The seraphs were strict on the lower angels, insisting on upright perfection at all times.

"This is so much fun," he said as he clinked his new cup against Naamah's with a laugh, giggling even harder when she then leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Pass it on," she dared in a whisper to his ear.

Being the Jewel of the Heavens, always filled with love as he was, it didn't take long for him to find another person to pass the kiss on to. He got up and lightly pecked a man by the sidelines on the cheek. "Hi there, darling. Would you like to dance?" he asked sweetly.

The man reddened slightly at the kiss but agreed quickly to a song, and Asmo found himself soon in another round of dancing, whirling between partners until he had probably danced with each person at least three times. Mid-step as he was about to pass to Naamah again, he noticed a figure moving quickly by from across the road.

A very familiar figure.

"Ack, I'm sorry - I've got to go," he said quickly, leaving his companion very confused as he dashed off from her and the rest of the party.

"Lilith!" he called out, chasing after her in the now-fallen night.

His sister startled at the sound of his voice. "Asmo? What are you doing here in the human realm?"

"You know, really I should be the one asking you that, sis!" he responded, patting her on the head as he caught up. "Mammon sent me here to find you and the twins. Although I, hehe, might have gotten a bit distracted on my way to find you after I sent the twins back. Okay, your turn, what were you doing here?"

She looked away shyly. "I was just, um...meeting someone."

"Ooooh? Tell your big brother more," he teased.

"Well, um...a-actually, Asmo, you love everyone, right? But how do you know you're in love with them?"

That certainly caught him off-guard.

"Hmmm? I never really thought about it," he mused. "I guess it feels kind of warm and fuzzy, right? Or...sometimes it's stronger. Like fire! Like your whole body is in flames, and you're going to burst apart in one biiiig explosion!" Teasingly, he grabbed her by the shoulders and mimicked some explosion sounds. "Why, my dear sister, have you fallen in love with somebody? Were you down here to ask the humans for loooove advice? Who is it, hon? Uriel? Israfil?? Camael?? Or - don't tell me it's Michael?!"

"N-no!" she said, eyes wide. "Ahh, no! No, it's not like that! And don't tell Lucifer or Mammon that I asked about this either!"

Her older brother just giggled mischievously in reply. "Well, let's just get back," he answered, placing his hand on the tree by where he'd landed earlier to open the portal back up.

When they stepped through, their two eldest brothers were waiting for them with scowls.

Lucifer spoke first. "Where have you two been, exactly?"

"Eep! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stay out so late!!" Lilith squeaked, quickly hiding behind her other brother. "I just, um--I just wanted to go meet with someone. And I lost track of time."

"What about you? Don't tell me ya got distracted hitting on people again," Mammon said, turning his attention to the other just-returned angel. "I've been havin' to cover for ya all day! Raphael is not happy."

"Hey, you're the one who sent me down there to find the twins!" Asmo argued back.

"Yeah, and they came back ages ago! So where have you been!"

"Well, one of the acrobats from Belphie's circus invited me to a party, so I--"

"A party?" Lucifer growled. "You were out late for a human party?"

"I mean...! I didn't know where to find Lilith or when she'd be done meeting her person, so I just thought I'd have some fun while I was down there," Asmo pouted.

"You still shouldn't be going to human world parties, Asmo," the eldest lectured, refocusing his gaze on their sister. "And as for you, about that person you went to meet...why are you meeting with a human?"

She just looked away.

Lucifer sighed. "Never mind, we'll talk later, Lilith. Just go back to your rooms for now, it's late and the next patrols will be by soon. You're lucky Mammon was the one on duty tonight and reported it straight to me so the other seraphs don't know yet."

With relief, the two of them scurried away back to their respective living quarters.

Back in his room, Asmodeus looked over the sketch of himself he'd been working on earlier that day. After the excitement of the day and the party, it looked so bland now that he looked at it again. It was perfectly in line with the classic portrait style of paintings all over the Celestial Realm, but it felt so flat. He saw the good in everyone, right?

And the best thing about him wasn't his face, or his hair, or the way the sunlight fell perfectly across his face at noon. No, the good thing about him was how he loved everyone, wasn it? The love that filled him to bursting at every moment, the love that felt like heavenly fire coursing through his heart every time he looked at someone. That was what made him the universally admired angel that everybody loved back. This painting needed to show that overflowing love too, didn't it?

He tore the canvas off, stretching a fresh one across the frame to start again.

&

When Lucifer came to the brothers to say he was going to rebel against their father, Asmodeus didn't hesitate. All of them had heard about what Lilith had done, and how she was set to be punished for it with obliteration. Utter destruction, wiping her from existence. And for what? For her love?

Well, Asmo was intimately familiar with getting in trouble over love. He'd certainly felt the sharp end of Raphael's spear enough times to know that love was not especially prized or respected in the Celestial Realm. Their father had created him with this overwhelming burning of love towards all, yet that same father commanded the angels without regard for love. It was his rules that forbade Asmo from having outlets to express his love, and it was those same rules that would now destroy his sister.

Lucifer had already tried arguing for mercy, to no avail. It didn't matter if it was out of love; all the worse, in fact, because Lilith wasn't supposed to have gone down to the human realm in the first place, let alone fallen in love with one of them. Their father didn't care about love. So, Lucifer would fight.

And so would Asmodeus.

The Ecstasy

When he came to, the first thing Asmo felt was weightlessness.

It wasn't just his clothes, which had transformed from a billowing mass of white robes to a slender, form-fitting black tank top and pants. Nor was it how his large, elegant wings were now turning to four smaller, curled bat-like ones.

No, it was the lack of burning fire in his chest. What normally felt tightly contained within him was looser, freer, like something had unlocked inside of him, allowing it to spill out.

It was such a jarring, unfamiliar feeling that he gasped out for air.

"Asmo!! Beel, Belphie! Levi! Are you all okay?!" Mammon called out at the sound, rushing over. He had landed not too far away, and seemed to have undergone his own transformation, his usual softly draping outfit now full of sharp, cutting lines instead. In fact, it looked like everyone had either changed or was mid-transformation.

"Where's Lilith?" Beelzebub asked immediately, sounding panicked. "She got hit by an arrow earlier and fell during the battle, is she here?! Is she okay?!"

Belphie sat up and looked around before shaking his head. "I don't think she's here," he said softly. "What happened?"

"Mmm, well judging by how we all look, I guess we're...demons now?" Asmo chimed in.

"Aaagh, dammit! I saw Lucifer fly down all of a sudden while we were fightin', but I don't see him here either. He's gotta be around here somewhere though," Mammon said. "C'mon, get up, guys. Levi, you okay over there?"

A pitiful mumble of affirmation came from the cerulean-haired lump. Levi had awoken but, it seemed, simply opted to stay laying on the ground, as if laying there would erase away everything that had just happened.

After a quick check over each of them, Mammon seemed satisfied that there were no major injuries, at least. Aside from, obviously, them all having lost their angel forms, and seemingly having transformed into demons here. Which meant...

"Welcome to the Devildom." A demon in a crisp black and red uniform walked up to them with a polite smile. "Lord Diavolo has requested for all of Lucifer's brothers to come to the RAD student council room at once. Of course, Lucifer himself is there as well."

Ignoring the confused chatter of the brothers, he led them to a grand building, through beautifully sculpted hallways, and into a large courtroom-like chamber.

A large, dark-skinned demon in what looked to be a red school uniform was seated at the judge's seat, and beside him...Lucifer, in a similar uniform as the man who had led them here, as well as a scary-looking blond individual they didn't recognize.

Five piles of cleanly folded uniforms sat on a table in the center of the room.

In what felt like a whirlwind of explanation, the demon at the center introduced himself as Lord Diavolo, confirmed that they were indeed demons now, and explained that, as the demon prince and current ruler of the Devildom, they were now part of his domain. This was RAD, a school for demons, and the demon who had led them here was Barbatos, his personal butler. His father, who had passed the reigns of power but still commanded more respect among the nobles, would help work out the details of their new positions here in the Devildom, but he wanted to welcome them as members of the RAD student council.

It was a lot, but most importantly, they would stay together down here. They would live together, with Lucifer working out the details of their new home, and they would attend this school. Apart from this, they would be eventually assigned other responsibilities, but they would be otherwise free to enjoy the Devildom as they pleased.

As they pleased. Asmodeus wasn't sure what this all meant for them, but he liked the sound of that phrase.

--

Asmo sighed happily, gazing at himself in his vanity mirror. He looked perfect. His outfit was perfect, with pearly flower earrings perfectly matching the flowery sleeves of his shirt.

After they fell, Mammon had worried and fussed over everyone - not that he would ever admit it outright. Still, the worry had been unmistakable, checking in on each brother every day to make sure they were adjusting okay. But for Asmodeus, things were more than okay. It was like a blindfold had been removed from his eyes.

When he looked at himself now, he understood why everyone had always fawned over his looks - he was gorgeous! How had he never seen it before? He was dazzlingly beautiful. No wonder they had called him the Jewel of the Heavens! And though he was no longer part of, well, heaven, he was still the most stunning being to exist, in all the three realms.

That being the case, it was only right to share himself with everyone, right? Everyone had always wanted to gaze upon him, and at last, with the chains of celestial modesty shed from him, he understood that it was his responsibility to share this gift of his beauty with all.

"I'm heading out!" he called out to his brothers in the common room as he skipped out of the house with excitement. By this point, he'd been to tons of parties, but the joy of it never really wore off. The energy, the dancing, the drinks, the new people, and most importantly? Getting to do whatever the hell he wanted.

The pumping music and the flashing lights of the club greeted him as he threw open the doors. "Who's ready for an Asmo party?! Your Avatar of Lust has arrived!" he cheered.

Everyone in the club went wild immediately, as they always did for these. A night of partying, hosted by the Avatar of Lust, filled with dancing and drinks, and inevitably ending in a wild orgy at some nearby hotel room with as many bodies as could be crammed in? The demons at the club always went wild for an event like that.

Cambores, his good friend, came up immediately to give him a kiss on the cheek and pass him a drink. "Asmo, baby, we've been waiting for you! There's a whole line of succubi who have been begging for a dance with you tonight!"

"Only a dance?" he giggled impishly, as he waved to the line his friend pointed out. "Well, they do have to take turns, since a beauty like mine has to be shared with everyone. But we'll have to see if any of them can tear themselves off of me after a dance!"

Wasting no time, he grabbed the hand of the first one and whirled her onto the floor. "Bothothêl, you're back for me again tonight," he teased. "Didn't get enough of me last night?"

"No, never, Lord Asmodeus," she responded, gazing adoringly into his eyes. She shimmied against him, pressing herself close against his body, and he responded in kind. "I want you every night if you'll allow it."

"Well, I'm flattered, my dear," he answered in a sultry whisper against her collarbone, "but I'm afraid you can't hog beauty like this. But maybe next time I eat you out, I'll eat your heart along with it so I can carry you with me, if you want to stay beside me so badly." He felt the lust emanating from her at that, and took the opportunity to give her a little nibble against her neck, before twirling her away to pull forth the next two succubi from the line at once.

By the tenth or eleventh song, he was about ready for another drink - and some actual action, rather than the intimate but very short flirts he was having with his dance partners. "Sarabocres, darling," he greeted the bartender cheerfully. "Can I get a Brimstone Kiss? And...a Death Tequila Sunset for this new friend of mine right here," he added, tugging over a random demon who had caught his eye from further down the bar.

"O-oh, um, Lord Asmodeus! T-thank you," the demon sputtered in surprise.

"You're welcome," he smiled sweetly back. "So you know my name, what's yours?"

"Kamusil, sir," she answered. Her eyes sparkled as she took him in, though she quickly scooted back and looked away. "Wow. You're even more beautiful than everyone says."

Smirking, he placed a finger under her chin and lifted her gaze back up to meet his. "Well, no one can accurately describe perfection, after all. But no need to be shy, cutie, you can drop the sir and all those formalities. Tell me, what kinds of secret desires are you hiding? If you could have, hmm...let's say, ten demons here in your bed tonight, who would they be?"

As if in a trance, any hesitation in her dropped away immediately. She pointed out various demons to him, some he recognized and some he didn't, all of them drop-dead gorgeous.

A mischievous smile spread across his face. He gave her a quick smooch, and whispered, "Okay, wait for me just a bit then, and don't you leave before me. Okaaay? We'll have a good time tonight, I promise."

With that, he downed his newly arrived drink and returned to join the throngs of dancers.

--

What a fun plaything she'd been, truly. Despite having been so shy, Kamusil had really had a knack for spying some of the wildest partners he'd been with in quite a while. He lay idly in the bed, tracing the sleeping form of one of the many sexed out demons beside him.

It would be an exaggeration to say they'd all explored pleasures together he'd never dreamed of - he was the Avatar of Lust, after all - but certainly there were some obscure things he got to try out that night. And there was always tomorrow, or the next night, or the next.

After all, there was nothing stopping him anymore. No shame, no modesty, none of the rules binding him. He could do whatever the hell he wanted.

And he loved it.

[cherry-gemz]

Open Book: Part I

Summary: As the Assistant Librarian for a small town in Florida, you find yourself intrigued with an extraordinary little girl and her charming uncle. As each day goes by, you teach the girl about adventure and mystery with your love of books. Little do you know what's in store for you next.

Pairings: Y/N and Frank Adler

Rating: PG, all fluff

Word count: IDK, failed at the assignment 2k+ lol. So I split the fic.

Challenge Prompt: Write a story about someone trying to find the perfect birthday gift.

A/N: Happiest of birthdays dear @a-little-counter-esperanto. You are the bees knees and really a true gem! I'm so happy we've become friends - we have so many things in common it's cray. I'm wishing you all the love and happiness, sunshine! May you continue to have a fantastic birthday sleepover and enjoy being loved by all! Hope you enjoy the fic xx - Cherry

"Did you get the flowers?" Mary asked as she sat on the couch flipping through the tv.

Frank patted his chest and then his jeans in search of his keys.

"What?"

Mary kept changing the channels without a beat,"Frank. You're supposed to buy a girl flowers on the date."

Frank furrowed his brow, "Uh...no. Have you seen my keys? Really?"

Mary rolled her eyes, "She's not gonna kiss you goodnight."

He searched on the kitchen table and rummaged through old mail when a knock at the door interrupted his concentration. As he bee-lined to the door, Mary turned off the tv and hopped off the couch to grab her latest book she'd chiseled her way through for the week.

Frank swung the door open abruptly and started you as you stood at their doorstep.

"Hey! You made it, great!" Frank exclaimed. "Sorry, my head's a mess."

Mary now situated herself at the kitchen table and shouted over her shoulder, "It's because he hasn't been on a real date in over six months."

Frank turned red," What? No...I mean yes, but jeez, Mary. Remember we talked about how to read a room?"

He turned back to you, "Come in, come in. I'm just trying to find my keys."

You chuckled and nodded to the doorknob which held his set of keys and he smacked his forehead.

As you walked into the house, you noticed little knickknacks here and there on shelves. And books. Mountains of books everywhere. Piling on top of each other.

"Hi Mary," you smiled as she kept her back to you, nose deep in her book.

"Mary…" Frank scolded as he put his hands on his hips.

"Hi, Ms. Y/N."

You smiled as you approached her, "May I sit?"

She nodded in agreement and you pulled out a chair.

"I brought you something…" you say as you rummage through your canvas bag for your book on crabs. "Well, actually I was hoping you could help me...see…"

Frank smiled as he saw the two of you bonding. He caught himself admiring you more than he'd like to admit as he needed to head off to his date soon. He appreciated your assistance with babysitting Mary as the two of you first met at the local library. His date, Justine, was a waitress at the bar he would visit from time to time. While there was a chemistry between them, it was really just through vanity. With you, he had come to know you at a deeper level: the way you’d squint or furrow your brow when reviewing your clipboard. Or how adorable you’d look chewing on the cap of your pen when trying to finalize an email at your desk. He saw that you loved the color yellow, considering how many skirts and cardigans you’d paired together. And that you were a romantic at heart - the classics were your fave to read and how’d you get lost in historical facts when he had first asked you what your hobbies were. Seeing how a beautiful person you were, inside and out, he now regretted asking Justine out with you on his mind.

Mary's eyes scanned the books of quantum physics and mathematics. At first you thought perhaps she had another book instead, but as you watched her day in and day out, you were astounded at the tiny prodigy and her ability to ascertain such knowledge at her age. You'd correct the cataloging errors for the day and find her reading for enjoyment it seemed.

Then one day Frank arrived. Mary had always left on her own, but as if it were any old regular day, the handsome uncle came to retrieve his stellar niece. He had a warmness to him. His dark brown hair and beard complemented his face, one that was obvious in an overall attractiveness. And he was kind, he showed that by adopting his niece after her mother had passed away and truly nurturing her gifted talent. You learned he fixed boats for a living and lived not too far from the library. You smiled at the odd pair together, they somehow seemed to work however.

As you checked their books out, Mary tiptoed over the large walnut desk and glanced at you.

"You're pretty," she stated.

"Mary. What did we say?" Frank tsked, embarrassed, but didn't disagree with her observation.

"What? Frank, you told me that I need to state facts, rather than assumptions. And I am stating a fact that Ms. Y/LN is pretty. Do you think she's pretty, Frank?"

Frank coughed into his fist and blushed, you smirked, half wanting to know his answer, half laughing inside of how Mary was so blunt.

"Yes, Ms. Y/LN is very pretty," he replied and gazed at your eyes. He licked his lips and you had to turn away feeling flushed. You closed the last book and placed it in Mary's backpack.

"All set," you replied. "These are due on the 23rd."

Frank zipped up the backpack and slung it over his broad shoulder. "Thanks, we'll see you tomorrow."

"Oh?" You replied as Mary looked at you both attempting to assess the flirtation occuring before her eyes.

"Well, yeah, she loves it here, I mean. And we have a few other books to return."

"Yes, we'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Mary."

"Bye," Mary replied and skipped off.

Frank showed up every day after that. You found it endearing, but not wanting to read into something that wasn't there, you focused your attention on Mary. That only seemed to peak his interest further. While he had a knack for attracting women, his heart was never in it for the long haul since the minute they found out about Mary, they'd either run away from the possible responsibility, or Mary would run them off herself. But with you it was different. You were genuine and kind to Mary. Knowing quite well of her mathematical abilities, you would challenge her in other areas: art, zoology, history. You found that while she could read more college level books than any person you met in the small town, she still was a child wanting to learn about all other aspects of life. You'd sit together at a table: you, reviewing inventory spreadsheets for the latest book fair and her, immersed in some book that would put you to sleep at night.

"Frank, you should ask Ms. Y/LN out," Mary stated one day as the three of you sat at a table together. Frank practically choked and you shook your head, secretly wanting to say yes.

"Aw, Mary. Well, I bet Ms. Y/LN has guys lined up at her door every night."

"No, she doesn't," Mary replied as she turned a page of her book. Frank laughed and placed his hand on Mary's shoulder, pretending to shake her.

"Well, actually Ms. Y/LN…" he said as your heart skipped a beat.

"Y/N," you interrupted. "You can call me Y/N. I feel we're on a first name basis now considering you're here everyday."

“Y/N,” he smiled. His hair was more combed today. You had noticed that he seemed to be disheveled when you first met him, however either Mary’s tactics were rubbing off on him, or it was your pure imagination.

“Yes?” you piped. You haven't been regularly dating lately. There just weren’t many prospects these days. Not ones that could keep up with conversation, let alone intellect. So instead, you found yourself immersed with your favorite fictional characters in the sea of books you’d grown to know and love.

His brow furrowed, he seemed nervous and he picked at the edge of a book as he attempted to gather his thoughts.

“Do you have a favorite book?” Mary interrupted as Frank turned to her, but seemingly glad she saved him from embarrassment.

“Do I have a favorite book? Hmmm...” you thought and a childish smile appeared on your face. “I have many favorite books, Mary...The Velveteen Rabbit, The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe…”

“Yeah, but what’s like your most favorite book?”

You extended your hand out to her and she willingly accepted. Frank perked up his interest as he watched the two of you scamper off into the fiction area. Curious, he stood up and decided to follow. The two of you giggled quietly as you made your way around the columns, your free hand lightly ghosting over the spines of the books. The subtle scent of paper and dust permeated Frank’s sense of smell. He was more of an outdoorsy person nowadays as he had left behind his scholarly days teaching in Boston. It’s where Mary learned most from, his appetite to keep learning, vernacular, and wit . You slowed down and perused a row until you found your favorite book.

“Aha!” you exclaim and hid the book behind your back as Mary jumped up and down with excitement. “Now, I’m not sure if this is something you’d be interested in, it’s more for ten year olds in my opinion. However, I know you’re a very mature young lady and I find that you’d quite enjoy the story if you give it a chance.”

Frank smiled, perplexed as to what book could possibly be your favorite. You pulled the book from behind and showed Mary.

“Little Women,” she stated. “By Louisa May Alcott.”

“Yes. It’s a beautiful story, really. About sisters and the trials they endure during the American Civil War. There’s friendship, love, and growth.”

Mary bunched her nose, you could tell she was on the fence about whether she’d enjoy a story about fictional sisters and yucky love stuff. You started to pull it away, however she grabbed it from your hands. You laughed and looked at Frank who leaned onto the columns and folded his arms.

“Seems someone is wanting to expand their horizons,” he chuckled.

“So it seems,” you smiled back as Mary skipped off to return to the table leaving the two of you behind.

“I’m more of a Lord of the Rings man myself.”

“Really?” you responded playfully. “The Hobbit included, right?”

“Of course,” he scoffed. “I think I actually just read that one to be honest, I just wanted to impress you. I spent my time reading Calvin and Hobbes more, probably how Mary learned my sarcasm.”

You laugh and touch his forearm as a reflex, but quickly realize and pull away. The spark that you felt when you connected was undeniable. You felt butterflies with him standing next to you and you hoped he hadn’t noticed your inability to remain calm.

“Y/N…” he started to say nervously. “Would it be alright if I called ya? Maybe we can get together sometime?”

“Oh, umm,” you replied, caught off guard. While you definitely had caught feelings for the handsome man, you never would have thought it’d be reciprocated. You stuttered, trying to gather your response.

Your hesitation threw him off, and he quickly replied, “I mean...like to sit for Mary or whatever. She really likes you.”

“Of course...yes,” you reply defeated in hopes that he would have asked you out. Instead of asking why he didn’t, you started to walk back to Mary. Frank scrunched his face in frustration in knowing he missed his shot with you and blurted out the most platonic question instead. He realized as well and quickly shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and followed your lead.

Frank watched as you comfortably plopped yourself next to Mary on the couch, dreading that he had to meet up with Justine. He’d much rather relax on the couch with you and the rugrat, enjoying some silly kids movie together.

You peered over the couch, “Is it okay if she has popcorn?”

“What? Yes,” Mary said flatly and jumped off the couch to the kitchen.

“Okay, miss. But not too much sugar. Bedtime is still at 9,” Frank replied as you shrugged your shoulders.

“It’s the weekend, Frank,” Mary called out from the kitchen.

“Yes, but-“

“Will you be late?” you asked.

He looked at you in surprise, “Um, no. Probably before ten?”

“Okay, have fun.”

“It’s Y/N’s birthday,” Mary replied, carrying two coke bottles and a bag of jelly beans.

You shook your head in regret of ever telling the child when your birthday was. She was so inquisitive that day, asking about all your favorites: food, animals, books, and now birthday.

“It’s your birthday?!” Frank asked.

“Yeah, no big deal.”

“How old are you?” Mary asked as she set the drinks on the coffee table and then remembered how Frank would scold her about leaving water rings. She grabbed the coasters and placed them under the bottles.

“Mary!” Frank detested and placed his hands on his hips.

“How old do you think I am?” You tease, waving off to Frank that it was okay.

“Older than Justine, that’s for sure. She said she was 24, but looks 34. But she acts like she's 12. She hasn't even read anything on quantum physics, she thought wave mechanics was something Frank was working on with a boat,” she said coolly and popped a few jelly beans into her mouth. She nestled herself back into the couch cushions and wiggled her feet.

“Mary Elizabeth!” Frank’s voice boomed as he entered the living room.

Mary leaned over to whisper to you, “Frank says I'm not supposed to correct older people. Nobody likes a smart-ass.”

“And a busy body,” he huffed.

You nodded and laughed quietly, entertained at his expense.

“Well I am 32,” you smiled and looked at your watch, “As of one hour ago as a matter of fact.”

“That’s good. You’re much more mature than Justine and a better fit for him. Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you.”

“Mary…that’s it. You’re on your last warning,” Frank bellowed. “Don’t make me let Y/N go home and then you’re stuck with me tonight.”

“What? No! Okay. I’m sorry,” she lamented and folded her arms.

Frank’s demeanor changed as he turned to you, “I hadn’t known it was your birthday. Don’t feel pressured to sit for her tonight if you have other plans.” Secretly he wanted to cancel on Justine and spend the night celebrating you instead.

“Oh it’s okay! It kind of appeared out of nowhere. I usually go back home and celebrate with friends and family, but my schedule didn’t permit it this year. Next year, perhaps.”

“What’s your favorite dessert?” Mary asked as she chewed on another handful of jelly beans.

“Red velvet cheesecake,” you smiled. “I have a sweet tooth.”

Frank couldn’t concentrate on his date with Justine. His mind was elsewhere. On you. Justine grazed her hand as they sat next to each other at the bar. He seemed unfazed by her gesture and looked at his watch, 9:14pm. Would it be too obvious if he cut the date short that he was into you? He coughed and took a swig of his beer.

“Do you wanna come back to my place?” She cooed and bit her lip in anticipation.

“What? Oh actually I was gonna head out. The sitter needed me home by 9:30,” he lied.

“Oh, sitter?”

“Yeah, Mary. Remember? My niece?”

“That’s right. How old is she again?”

“Seven,” He said, annoyed. He recalled they had met once before. The bartender approached them and handed Frank the receipt.

“Hey, do you have any desserts on the menu?”

Justine’s ears perked in curiosity of where he was going with asking about dessert.

The bartender grunted slightly and threw a mangled tri-fold menu and Frank grabbed it quickly.

“Buddy, ring me up for the red velvet cupcake.”

[even-after-a-millennia]

Ending on Canvas

Fic for @nilefreemanweek2021 and the prompt Art!  Nile thinks about Jay and Dizzy while sketching.  Joe helps distract her and she finally says goodbye. You can read it below or over on my ao3 account here.  Gen | Rated G | 1.4k

The safehouse was quiet.  Andy and Quynh had left for a hike earlier that morning and hadn’t returned yet.  Nicky was reading at the dining table, occasionally flipping his page.  Booker was napping in one of the bedrooms, though if Nile concentrated enough she could hear his faint snores.  

She and Joe both had their sketchbooks out and were drawing separately on the couch.  Some day, they would challenge each other to recreate portraits or scenes and see how their art styles differed, but today, they were both in their own worlds.

Nile hadn’t had a plan when she had sat down, but she found herself pulling out her phone and flipping through the pictures until she found the one that she wanted to recreate.  Now, it was slowly coming together, the features of her former friends becoming clearer as she worked.

Finally, she finished drawing the picture of Dizzy, Jay, and her posing for the camera.  

And sat there, staring at it.  At them.

She didn’t realize that she had started rocking in place, trying to expel the emotions she was feeling, until she felt Joe’s hand on her shoulder and stilled.

“Nile?  Are you alright?” he asked softly.

It shouldn’t be so hard to shake her head, to tell him she wasn’t, this was Joe after all, but it felt like all the muscles in her neck were rebelling against her as she forced them to move.

“What is it, little river?” he asked.  

She watched as his eyes fell on her drawing.  He picked it up and examined it, his eyes taking in the scene.

“Former sisters in arms?” he gently prodded.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice raspy.  “That’s Jay,” she said, pointing to her.  “And that’s- that’s Dizzy.”

“You look as if you were close,” he said.

She nodded.

“They were my best friends while I served,” she admitted.  Every word felt like barbed wire being pulled out of her, barbs digging in as they went.

“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t wish to,” Joe said.

Nile smiled, a sad, small thing.  “I know.  I think I want to though.”

Joe nodded, settling in.  Out of the corner of her eye, Nile saw Nicky close his book.

She took a deep breath, then let it out.  “Women in the service are always together, on base and on assignments.  That can lead to some interesting dynamics.  But I was lucky when I found them.  Jay was a year older than me, showed me the ropes.  Dizzy… Dizzy was there.  My first death.”

Joe shifted closer to her, but didn’t reach out.  She huffed then grabbed hold of his hand.  He squeezed it, then nodded.

“We got a lead that a man who had been responsible for the deaths of soldiers as well as civilians was holed up in a village near our base.  He was using women as a living shield.  We were tasked to talk to the women and engage if we found him.  We did,” Nile said simply.

She could still remember the moment that Jay had kicked the door in, when Nile had entered and instinctually shot the man when she saw his gun.  Two taps, right to the chest.  It wasn’t even until afterward that she had realized what she had done.

“I tried to save him.  But he didn’t want me to.  Dizzy got distracted and he- he had a knife and,” Nile broke off, holding Joe’s hand so hard it probably hurt.

“We saw,” he murmured.  “We felt it.”

It was almost a relief, to not have to describe what came next out loud.  That they understood.

She nodded.

“After, when I came back, Dizzy didn’t want to be around me.  She had held my throat together.  Probably left a lasting impression,” Nile said, making a face.  “It still hurt, though.  They all turned away from me.”

Her eyes fell to her drawing.

To her friends.

“Even Jay.”

“Were you two…?” Joe trailed off, leaving the question open.

Nile shrugged.  “Like I said, interesting dynamics.”

“Ah.”

They sat there, still holding hands, though their grip was much looser than before.

“I have an idea,” Joe said slowly.  “But I want to check that it is something that would be good for you right now.”

“Kay.  What is it?” Nile asked.

He explained his plan and Nile found herself grinning despite herself.

“Hell yes,” she said.  “I’ve always wanted to do that.  I loved Princess Diaries.”

Joe looked momentarily confused, but rallied.  “Nicolò!” he called, as if his husband wasn’t already paying attention.  “We need to go to the store!”

Nicky got up without a word and came back with their car keys.

They ended up at the dollar store, throwing supplies into the cart with abandon.  Nile threw in some chocolate for good measure, enough that there would be some left for Andy.  She bounced on the balls of her feet at the check out and Nicky and Joe smiled at her enthusiasm.

It took a while to set up in the backyard of their safe house, but once the tarp, canvas, and balloons filled with paint were in place, Joe turned to Nicky.  

“Just one thing left,” he said with a smile.

“One moment,” Nicky said, going back into the house but not before he sent a smile back.

He emerged soon after with his arms full of a box.  It was only when he set it down on the grass before Nile did she realize that it was full of knives.  Not kitchen knives, either. 

“Oh ho ho ho, this is going to be fun,” she said, reaching in and grabbing a throwing knife.

“Need a tutorial on throwing these?” Joe asked.

Nile pinched the tip of her knife, hefted her arm beside her head with her other arm extending before her, and then pitched forward, the blade spinning through the air until it sunk into a balloon and its paint began to drip down the canvas.

“Impressive,” Nicky said, his eyes twinkling.

Nile shrugged.  “Something I picked up.”

Joe gestured to the canvas.  “It’s all yours.”

“Nah, I want your guys’ help with this,” she said, handing them knives of their own.  “And I wanna see who is the better shot,” she said, teasing.

“You first, my love,” Nicky said.

Joe sent him a look that made him snort, then his knife was spinning through the air and blue paint exploded across the canvas.

Nile gave a little cheer.

Nicky stepped forward and threw his as well.  His knife hit the balloon next to Joe’s nestling into the canvas side by side.  Nile huffed at the look of unabashed love that Joe gave Nicky and the smile Nicky gave him in return.  Then they focused, and took turns throwing.

They had only put purples, blues, and black in the balloons, and soon, the canvas was covered in color and they had no more balloons to pop.

Going to the canvas, Nile smeared the colors together a bit more in places, more to make sure the canvas wasn’t showing any more.

“It will be a bit of time until it dries,” Joe said, looking over her shoulder.

Nile nodded.  “That’s okay.  I have an idea for once it does, if you don’t mind me taking it over.”

Joe lifted his hands, acquiescing.  “This was for you, Nile.  Do with it what you wish.”

She smiled and didn’t even have to put effort into it.  “Thanks, Joe.  Both of you,” she said, looking over at Nicky.

He shook his head.  “This was all Joe’s idea.  But I am glad that it helped.”

“Where is everybody?” Nile heard Quynh’s voice say from inside the house.

“Out here!” she called.

Andy and Quynh emerged into the backyard and took in the artistic carnage there.  Andy started laughing.

“I’m almost sorry I missed whatever the fuck this was,” she said.

Quynh entwined their hands.  “Almost,” she agreed.

They cleaned up, Nile taking the canvas inside to dry.

It did take a while to dry with all the paint on it, but once it did, she sat in front of it with a paint brush and white paint.

Slowly, she turned the multitude of colors into an alive night sky, complete with stars shining.

Her final touch was to add three figures to the bottom, etched out in white against the black that had spilled there.  No prominent details, but they stood there together, looking up at the sky awash with color.

It was the best ending she could give to her two friends and the woman they used to know.

[ktheist]

03 — show me yours & i’ll show you mine | m

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 1.9k

➙ warnings. explicit content, fingering, mild exhibitionism

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ synopsis.  “why are you doing this if you’re not gonna fuck me?”

x

saturday evening, taehyung comes up to you with a face of a blank canvas, phone in his hand facing the ceiling and relays the news of his break up.

you’re in the middle of watching a show with his two brothers on your laptop.

“wh-what?” is all you manage to say whilst namjoon and seokjin freeze in their spots.

“i broke up with her,” taehyung’s shoulderline rises as he casually shrugs.

“but why?” deep down, you have an inkling - but your mouth moved on its own before you can even stop it.

“cause she was shit talking you,” and with that, he twirls around, heading back to the hallway where one of the doors connect to his room.

and just like second nature, your body shoots up, trailing after the slumped man like a mother to her pupper.

“you guys watch without me,” you briefly say to the two men on the couch, their faces scrunching with growing concern.

for the first time in a long time, you and taehyung bare your hearts to each other. talked about your fears and hopes and what keeps you going. which is, to an extent, each other and the two brothers. you’re not sure how you fell asleep but you wake up with a leg sprawled all over your stomach and a snoring sound echoing against the wall. the blanket draped over you and taehyung isn’t part of his bedset because one, you and taehyung end up sleeping on top of the sheets and two, you know the only one brother out of the three loves the color blue so much, his bedsheets and blankets are always themed with light cerulean. and this blanket - you’ve definitely seen seokjin use a dozen times.

"hey, morning,” you greet the two brothers whilst they’re unpacking what seems to be takeouts from a store you all collectively agree have no bad item in their menu.

everyone eats just about anything from that restaurant.

“morning, sleepyhead.” namjoon shakes his head, smiling - it’s probably the hair pointing in different directions.

“how’s taehyung?” seokjin asks when you come to sit on the stool next to where he’s standing.

“well, i mean - he’s not in a good place,” you begin, “i know he really liked her. and i know she talks shit about me behind my back and she knows i do too and he’s always caught in between, but he always seemed to brush it off and never take sides you know? so i didn’t think he’d break up with her over it.”

“hey, it’s not your fault,” the hand on your shoulder is warm, seeping into your heart as you examine the sincerity of those brown eyes, down to the reassuring smile of those plump lips.

“thanks for saying that, jinnie,” you want to ask for a kiss (and maybe some dick) but with namjoon - though he’s cluelessly continuing with his task of preparing the takeouts - around, you settle for patting his hand that’s on your shoulder.

after washing your face and returning to the kitchen, you find the previously sleeping-like-a-long giant perched on one of the stools, rubbing the grogginess out of his eyes.

“look who’s up!” a smack lands on taehyung’s back.

the aforementioned man doesn’t even flinch as he takes another second to rub all the sleepiness away before craning his neck to look at your smiling face - it may be a dumb smile but someone’s got to be lifting the atmosphere.

“i thought you left,” he grumbles, before his arm snakes around your waist and brings you in for a side hug.

the recoil is almost automated as your smile scrunches into a cringe, arms flailing to push him away and at least get a few inches gap in between,“ew, what the hell.”

“i’m sad! gimme a hug,” he laments whilst namjoon laughs, commenting something about how “adorable” the two of you are and how it “...reminds me of the good old days, you know?”

he means when you and taehyung aren’t as resistant to skinships.

but all your attention goes to the eldest brother whose glance lingers a second too long before he tears his gaze off from you and taehyung.

x

it turns out that little bitch tried making taehyung choose between you and her after he’d texted her (in an attempt to placate her jealousy-prone heart) about how you’d opted to room with seokjin in yesterday.

give them and inch and they’ll take a mile.

“i should’ve known,” taehyung shakes his head, bags heavy under his eyes as he lies in his bed, cocooned by the light cerulean blanket, “you don’t like her but you like everyone-”

“don’t you go justin bieber on me,” you smack him in the stomach, to which he curls up into a caterpillar, moaning in pain and something about suing for personal injuries.

but the fact that he can complaint at all means that he’s recovered half of himself.

“i’m getting some food from the kitchen, you want anything?” you roll your eyes.

“how bout a new girlfriend?” he manages to say, despite the so called blow to the stomach.

“potato chips it is,” you nod before strutting out of the door.

the hallway is dimly lit, save for the lone light in the ceiling and the slightest bit of gap that allows luminescence to pour out of seokjin’s room. so you knock on the door, leaning against the frame, “hey.”

kim seokjin sits on the chair you previously occupied the night before, round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as his eyes widen for the briefest second before offering you one of his warm smiles, “hey, how’s taehyung?”

“he’s eating,” you shrug, trying to appear casual even though something in the way his shirt swallows his already broad built and making him appear like you can fight him and win - gets your heart doing flips.

“that’s gre-” he can’t even properly get his response out because you’re already crossing the short distance between you and him, hands cupping his cheeks before smashing your lips against his. as if you haven’t had water for days. as if you’ve been breathing with your head barely above water.

his hands find their way on your hips, kissing you back more delicately than you can ever control yourself. tingles dot your skin from where his hand caresses your elbow and travels up your arm, lingering there, as though forgetting the reason his warning touch.

“i needed that,” you break away only to steal another kiss before confessing.

seokjin chuckles, his hand slipping over to your chest before attempting to pinch your nipple. to which he fails because your padded bra successfully blocks him off.

“oh, you’re wearing a bra?” the genuine surprise gleaming in his eyes should offend you.

“unless you want your brother accidentally touching my nips while we were wrestling each other to decide who gets to use your comfy as hell blanket,” you roll your eyes.

taehyung won, obviously. which explained why he was lying in bed like a human burrito just now.

“i’d have to give taehyung a personal beating if that happened,” the dorky grin and amused glint in his whenever he cracks a not-so-funny-but-adorable joke, isn’t present.

your heart’s always done this thing where it skips with every smile that curls on his lips, yet the lack of it and the underlying seriousness of his tone is making your heart lurch in your throat, warmth spreading all over your body.

“anyways, i need to get taehyung some chips, thanks for the kiss.” you wave but something wraps around your wrist like an iron hold seconds before you find yourself perched in seokjin’s lap and the man dangerously close to you - despite having shared a passionate kiss just a moment ago.

“taehyung this, taehyung that,” his hand slips under your shirt, coarse hand trailing up your back until you feel him unhooking your bra in one go.

like he’s had enough practice in the art of seduction.

“well, he’s the one out of the four of us with a broken heart,” you pray to the constellations and deities that your voice is levelled though it soon proves to be pointless if his other hand’s snaking up your front and hovers over your chest where he could feel the organ beneath beating wildly.

“you’re breaking mine though... with spending that much time with my brother,” he traps your nipple in between his thumb and index finger, caressing, teasing with a smile that ironically has probably broken a few hearts of his own.

“i can fix that,” you beam, finger tracing down his front and down to the waistline of his pants, to which you can’t reach unless you scoot away to allow your hand to -

“not right now,” the sound of wind chimes drum in your ears as he chuckles.

it makes the umpteenth rejection a little less prickly, as you pout, “when?”

“soon,” and with that, he takes your wrist in his hand, making you push your own shirt up until your nipples are bare in the open, “hold this up for me, please.”

it’s the please that gets you.

ever the gentleman even as he’s about to tease you with his teeth against your nipples and his free hand fondling your other breast.

“why are you doing this if you’re not gonna fuck me?” you grunt, displeased, but arch your back anyway to make it easier for him to suckle and bite on your erected nipples.

you’ve always thought his hair looked soft but it’s softer as you bury your free hand in it. at first, it’s just a gentle caress - just like patting a golden retriever. but then as his tongue lapse over your protruded nub and the pressure in his free hand in your other breast grows more intense, you’re surprised he’s not moaning out in pain from the way your hand’s instinctively grasping at his roots.

“ah!” a yelp escapes you when he leaves your left nipple for the other one, biting down harder than you’re used to but not enough to draw blood.

you’re lost in the pain and pleasure of his tongue and apt fingers, where his mouth isn’t sucking on your nipple, his fingers are pinching and groping it. somewhere in the back of your mind, you distinctively remember a midly pressing matter-

“what the fuck?”

something about a heartbroken best friend and an unclosed door.

"t-taehyung!” you gasp, body almost jolting upward like a criminal caught red handed but seokjin’s arms around your body roots you down in his lap as he slowly pulls down your shirt before turning his attention to his youngest brother.

“taehyung, calm down,” he instructs with ease but his wide-eyed gaze is filled with concern.

“this isn’t-” you begin, slipping away from seokjin’s loosened grasp to pad over to your best friend who looks like he’s seen a ghost or his brother and best friend almost-fucking. either one works, “this isn’t what you think.”

“no-” the younger cups his mouth as he doubles over, his other hand held up in the air as if to tell you to “stay the fuck back-”

“oh, come on,” the slightest brush of your nipples against the material of your carelessly-pulled-down bra makes does not go pass you, yet you put your hand on your hip, rolling your eyes, “don’t be so dramatic.”

and that’s when taehyung hurls his guts out in front of seokjin’s door.

x

note. ooof 

i wasn’t sure if this drabble was gonna gain any eager readers. when i say eager, i mean those who look forward to an update, but some of you showed interest and it warms my heart! so here’s to another update! hope yall enjoyed!

taglist. @aretha170​ @scalubera​ @ambersaesthetics​ !

[delos-mio]

Out Of The Woods - college!AU - PART 3

A/N: I’m partial to this chapter, but perhaps that’s just me. I’ve not gotten a lot of feedback on this series sooooo idk if I’m just sharing it for me at this point lol but I’m having fun and that’s what matters, right?! Anyways I’m always around for thoughts, feelings, questions!

Only an essay, a few chapters of reading, and a couple shifts at work separated you from your hang out with Nikolai. You found yourself wondering what he was up to, what made him smile that day, what he’d look like on top of you now. That last one tended to linger a minute before you violently shook it from your head. You hardly knew each other anymore, not to mention you had a boyfriend- you couldn’t let yourself start to fantasize about him like that. But he was so sweet and gentle, so sassy and smart. It didn’t hurt that he was still painfully handsome either.

You were sitting at work, more or less twiddling your thumbs, when you felt a buzzing against the white countertop of the receptionist desk you sat behind. When you looked at the screen, an unknown number appeared. You unlocked your phone and opened your texts. Seeing the first line preview made your heart leap into your throat immediately.

N: Hey it’s Nik. Just thought you should have my number too :)

Y: Hey there you glad you didn’t lose that paper

N: I could never! What are you up to?

Y: Just at work, pretty slow today so I’m kinda bored

N: Hopefully I can keep you a little company. Where do you work?

Y: John Richard Salon- it’s that one downtown across from that hot dog place

N: Oh yeah! Seen it a million times. Do you do hair? Is that a secret talent of yours?

Y: God no lol I’d be horrible at it. I don’t have the dexterity for it. I’m just their receptionist

N: “Just” please I’m sure you’re their best employee

You stopped to roll your eyes, but also couldn’t stop the heat from rising on your cheeks.

N: Do you like it?

Y: It’s pretty good for a low responsibility job- it pays the bills too so I’m not complaining

N: That always helps

Your name had been called from off to your side, making your head snap up and you locked eyes with Deja, who was easily your favorite coworker. “And just what has you smiling like an idiot? Hm?” she asked with a smirk and leaned across the counter from you.

“Remember that guy I was telling you about from the party?”

“Oh yeah, the one you fucked in high school?” she teased.

You let out a long sigh. “Well, he just texted me. We’re supposed to hang out on Friday,” you said confidently, raising your chin in her direction to show her there was nothing of consequence going on between you and Nikolai.

“Hang out. Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Deja looked at you with a raised eyebrow and you could only respond with a look of your own.

“Oh my god, shut up,” you laughed. “Seriously. We haven’t hung out in years and it’s nice to have someone to hang out with who knows me. And wants to hang out with me,” you added under your breath.

“Don’t tell me Matt is back on his bullshit…”

You simply raised your thumb and index finger just slightly apart, squinting at the space between them.

As you were catching her up on the last week, John walked over and flipped over the open sign, locking the glass door in front of him. You took that as your sign to help clean up so you could get out of there as soon as possible. The girls all pitched in, sweeping up the few stray clumps of hair on the old wooden floor and wiped down all the counters for the morning.

While you were on the bus for the short ride back to your apartment, you suddenly remembered the conversation you were having with Nikolai before you closed up shop. You cursed under your breath and pulled out your phone again, quickly thumbing a message back.

Y: Sorry! I got caught up closing

N: No sorry needed, you were at work after all

Y: lol I suppose that’s true. They don’t pay me to sit around and look pretty

N: They should

Y: Oh god lol stop

N: Have I told you that I’m really looking forward to Friday?

Y: No but I’m looking forward to it too

You had since made it home and crawled into bed, happy to finally be off your feet and talking to the boy who disarmed you with a single smile. For the next few hours, the two of you texted back and forth, mostly about classes and work, but you couldn’t stop yourself from occasionally flirting with Nikolai. You really needed to work on actively not doing that, but you allowed yourself one last evening of toying with him. When the clock rolled over to 1am, the lids of your eyes were beginning to grow heavy and a long yawn escaped from your lips.

Y: I think I’m going to fall asleep on you I’m sorry

N: Holy shit I didn’t realize it was so late

N: I should get to bed too. I have a presentation in the morning

Y: Don’t let me keep you up!

N: But darling that’s all I want ;)

N: Sweet dreams- I’ll see you Friday

Y: Goodnight Nik

-----

Friday finally came and you were nervous as you fixed your hair one last time in the wide bathroom mirror. You opted for tight jeans, a pretty low cut tank, and a zip up hoodie. There was no way you were going to just hang out at his house looking like you were ready for the club, but you still wanted to remind Nikolai that you were cute. Genya had already left for the night, so you weren’t able to have a second set of eyes give your outfit the final approval; you could really use the reassurance right about now. As you casually boosted your chest one more time, there was a light knock at the front door. You opened it to Nikolai in a skin-tight tee for your school and a light canvas jacket. His hair was perfectly disheveled and his jeans clung tight to his thick thighs. You caught him giving you a long onceover before giving you a wide smile.

“You look amazing,” he breathed out, pulling you in for a tight embrace. You let your hands wander over his broad back, exploring the pull of his muscles under his jacket.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you smirked as you pulled apart. You locked up behind you and let Nikolai walk you downstairs and out to his car.

“Pizza?” he asked, one hand low on your back, the other gesturing vaguely you assumed in the direction of the car.

“I thought you’d never ask,” you smiled from ear to ear. Immediately, you could see the tension leave Nikolai’s shoulders. As you stepped foot into the parking lot, the sky decided it was the perfect time to open up and unleashed a sheet of rain unlike any you’d had so far this fall. You yelped as it began to pour, throwing your hood over your head. Nikolai acted quickly and threw off his jacket, holding it high above your head to keep you dry as you both splashed quickly to his car. This gesture made your heart swell; you were starting to think Nikolai may be a real lift knight in shining armor. He opened your door and made sure you were out of the rain before joining you and whipping his soaked coat in the backseat. You were both laughing at the situation and he was visibly relieved that you took the whole hiccup in stride. “Let’s get fucking dry ,” you laughed and he needed no further request to set off in the direction of his apartment.

Nikolai actually didn’t live too far from you, you realized when he pulled up across the street from the brown duplex. It was still raining when you parked and you again sprinted to the front porch in a desperate attempt to stay a little dry. When you got close to the door, you realized that it was a lot louder inside than you thought it would be. Nikolai must have noticed too because his jaw immediately set, irritation flashing behind his hazel eyes.

“Fucking Aleks,” he muttered under his breath before pushing the door open. A large party was taking place, unbeknownst to Nikolai. There were people passing in front of them, a lively game of beer pong in process, and more than one person going through their cupboards. Nikolai gestured for you to head inside and he slammed the door shut behind him. “Do you mind waiting here for just one second? I have to talk to Aleks quick,” he asked quietly into your ear, his hand resting on the side of your face. You nodded and he gave you a small smile before setting off for the kitchen. Aleks was laughing against the fridge with a couple other guys, barely registering it when Nikolai was standing in front of him, arms crossed tight over his chest.

“Dude! I thought you said you were going to the baseball house!” Nikolai scolded.

“Nikolai! I’m so glad you’re here, man. No, we decided to have people over here instead. We’re always at the baseball house,” Aleks smiled, giving Nikolai a friendly punch to his shoulder; Nikolai didn’t budge an inch.

“I kinda had plans here tonight, remember?” he said through gritted teeth, giving a small nod back towards where you stood. Aleks’s face dropped as it all came back to him.

“I am so sorry man, I totally forgot.”

“Obviously,” Nikolai scoffed.

“I mean it. It slipped my mind. I’m really sorry dude.” It was hard for Nikolai to stay mad at Aleks for long, if at all. You saw Aleks give Nikolai a long hug, evidently sorting out whatever disagreement they just had. Nikolai made his way back to you, a little less high strung.

“C’mon,” he said and took your hand, leading you around the corner to a short hallway. He led you into a room and quietly shut the door behind you. The first thing that struck you was all of the maps and works in progress strewn across his desk and hanging on the walls. You walked around in awe and marveled at Nikolai’s decor. He had numerous prints of classic paintings and frescoes, almost all of them related to myths or historical events.

“Nikolai, this is amazing! It’s so,” your head was spinning as you looked at all of his art, “it’s incredible.” You turned back to him and he was right behind you, an amused smile pulling at his lips.

“I’m so sorry. I thought we’d be able to come and spend some time together without 80 other people.” He looked genuinely upset that he couldn’t follow through with his plan of having dinner and talking all night on the couch.

“Hey, it’s ok. We can still hang out. Why don’t we make an appearance, play a game of beer pong or whatever, and then we can watch a movie in here or something?” you offered. Nikolai’s face lifted a little at that and he lightly squeezed your hand, nodding his head in agreement. “I gotta get out of this hoodie, though. It’s fucking soaking,” you laughed.

You shed the wet garment and hung it carefully on the back of one of the chairs near you. Nikolai had changed out of his wet shirt as well; he must have moved in the blink of an eye because you didn’t even notice him switch clothes. When you looked at him again, his gaze was fixed on you, his expression hard to read. “What is it?” you finally asked with a nervous laugh as punctuation.

“You’re so pretty,” he said with a small smile. You looked down at yourself- your hair was a complete rat's nest, shirt and jeans soaked through, and though you hadn’t looked in a mirror you could feel your makeup was a mess too. And here he was, arguably the most handsome man you’d ever met, lost for words as you stood in front of him. You bit down on your bottom lip and shook your head before taking him by the hand and leading him back into the party.

Nikolai grabbed each of you a drink and you wandered together to the beer pong table where Aleks was taking his last shot with his partner. Aleks grinned when he saw the two of you walk up and declared he was playing you next after he ‘kicked their ass’. He sunk the last shot and whooped loudly, high-fiving with his partner. Nikolai took his place on the opposite end of the table with you and re-racked the cups.

“Sorry I’m about to embarrass you in front of your date, Nik,” Aleks smirked arrogantly. Nikolai only bounced the light ball against the table top, catching it swiftly on the back of his long fingers. He repeated the trick, unbothered by Aleks and his shit talking, also not correcting him that you were not in fact on a date.

“We’ll just see about that,” he laughed as his first shot sank directly into the front cup. You giggled with him and took a shot of your own, somehow making another shot. You’d played a few times before, but you didn’t consider yourself skilled by any means- certainly not as skilled as these boys. Nikolai was so proud of you, he threw his arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his side. “Good luck, man.”

Aleks was frustrated as his winning streak began to slip through his fingers. Nikolai was clearly the better player, which was making Aleks crazy, though he had also had about five more drinks than Nikolai. You only made one more shot after your beginner’s luck, but Nikolai didn’t mind at all. He happily carried your team and took care of the remaining cups, always encouraging you when you made a lousy toss. Before long, Nikolai was flicking his wrists high over his head like he was making a free throw and sinking the winning shot. The small crowd around the table cheered and Aleks grumpily crossed his arms. Nikolai gathered you in his arms and lifted you easily off the ground, spinning you with him as you celebrated your very first beer pong victory, all thanks to Nikolai.

“Better luck next time!” you taunted sarcastically and Aleks finally gave you a small smile. The next team in line took your spot and you slid back into the crowd undetected and back to Nikolai’s room. “I didn’t know you were good at every sport,” you teased before taking a seat on the edge of his bed.

“Is beer pong really a sport?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. He walked over to stand in front of you and ran his hand over your finally drying hair. “Movie time?”

“Yes,” you replied simply, possibly a little too quickly. Nikolai smiled at you before walking over to his bed. He pulled back the covers and crawled onto his side of the bed, patting the spot next to him, inviting you in. He had chosen some movie to put on evidently, but you truthfully didn’t notice what. You flicked off the lights and jumped in next to him with a smile. Nikolai laid out on his back and you curled up comfortably on his chest.

“I had a really good time tonight, rain storm and surprise party and all,” he said, his voice low in your ear.

“Me too,” you said with a smile, still distracted by the art on his walls. “What inspired your decor choices?”

Nikolai turned his head to look at the picture of the Minotaur over his desk. “As you know, I’m a history major,” he started. “My concentration is in classical studies, specifically the Hellenistic period.” He rolled his neck to face you again. “That’s actually my favorite myth.”

“You know, for being a creative writing major, my Greek mythology is a little rusty,” you prompted, leveling your most charming smile at Nikolai.

“Would you like me to regale you with the tale?” he asked with a dramatic flourish.

“I’m all ears, Mr. Lantsov,” you laughed, positioning yourself so you could rest your chin on your hands laying on his chest and gaze up at him.

“Alright. So, Minos had just become the ruler of the island of Crete, but was still in competition with his brother for power. He prayed to Poseidon to send him a sign of the god’s favor- a bright white bull. Minos was tasked to sacrifice the bull to honor Poseidon, but he was so enamored with the bull that he decided to keep him, believing Poseidon would accept an alternate sacrifice.” Nikolai absently petted your hair.

“But he didn’t?”

“He did not,” Nikolai laughed. “As punishment, Poseidon made Minos’ wife, Pasipahae, fall in love with the bull.”

“Such a Greek god thing to do.” You smiled up at him.

“Isn’t it?” Nikolai beamed back. “Pasiphae had the master craftsman Daedalus create a hollow, wooden cow for her to climb in so she could mate with the bull. And thus, the Minotaur was created. Pasiphae did her best to nurse and raise the Minotaur as a babe, but he grew too fast and became unruly. Minos consulted the oracle at Delphi on what to do, and as a result commissioned Daedalus to construct a gigantic labyrinth to house the Minotaur under the palace in Knossos.”

“Years go by, and one of Minos’ sons is killed by the Athenians, who I guess were jealous of a string of recent victories by the king. From here, there are a few versions on why Athens begins sending youths as tribute, but the most common is that Minos waged and won a war to avenge the death of his son. As the losers, Minos required the Athenians to send seven youths and seven maidens to be sent every seventh year to cast into the labyrinth to be consumed by the Minotaur.”

“The third sacrifice came around and the hero Theseus,” Nikolai started, contempt clear in his voice, “volunteered to go as a sacrifice to Crete to slay the Minotaur. He told his father, Aegeus, that he would put up a white sail when he came back home if he was successful, but would have the crew put up black sails if he was killed by the Minotaur. Once he was in Crete, Minos' daughter Ariadne fell head over heels for Theseus and helped him navigate the labyrinth. In most versions of the story, she gave him a ball of string so he could retrace his steps and a sword to slay the beast. Story goes that he killed the Minotaur and led the Athenians out of the labyrinth, sailing away with them and Ariadne away from Crete.”

“I’m gathering that you’re not a Theseus fan,” you said, eyes still trained on Nikolai’s face. “Why?”

“A number of reasons.” Nikolai paused, clearly deciding on how much he wanted to nerd out. “One being that on the way back to Athens, Theseus abandoned Ariadne on the island of Naxos. He forgot, however, to put up the white sail like he told his father he would. Aegeus saw the black-sailed ship approach and threw himself into the sea, presuming Theseus was dead. But doing so just secured the throne for Theseus. The other being that he murdered the Minotaur.”

“But didn’t the Minotaur kill a bunch of kids?”

“Or was he fed children after being abandoned by his mother, unaware of any other way to live? I don’t subscribe to the idea that the Minotaur is a monster. There’s also quite a bit of evidence that suggests Ariadne saw him as a brother, having to make the impossible choice of her ‘abomination’ of a brother and a man who had convinced her he was in love with her.” Nikolai spoke with such passion and knowledge that it made your stomach tighten. This was a Nikolai not many got to see, a Nikolai you wanted to hold and kiss and laugh with. Fuck, you were in so far over your head.

He’d never been more attractive to you than in that moment. The light from the TV dancing on his perfect cheekbones, his hazel eyes dark as he spoke. “I don’t know. I have a soft spot for him. I feel like the Minotaur got a raw deal.”

“Well, you’ve made me a believer,” you smiled and the way Nickolai beamed back at you made the heat rise in your chest.

“You should stay here tonight.”

“Nik,” you sighed, rolling off him. “You know I can’t do that.” He had no idea how badly you wanted to just scream out ‘yes’.

“I know, I know,” he conceded, staring straight up at the ceiling. “Really wish you could, though.”

“Someday.”

“Is that a promise?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.

“I’m not the oracle at Delphi,” you said over your shoulder, making him snort. “I can’t tell the future.”

TAGGED: @agentsofsheilds