#bc she asked me at the beginning of the world cup who i thought would win and i said argentina

[sorry-i-call-it-soccer]

In honor of the world cup final happening s year ago today, here's a picture of me crying about it

[maximotts]

𝙻𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛: 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝙰𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

a/n: anddd we're back! I'm loving how this series is going so far and with this chapter posted, we're halfway through unless I decide to add a chapter or two, we'll see. Anyways, welcome to the Beginnings of Smutty Content for smol babie Wanda

✎— priest’s daughter!Wanda x college student!reader ✎— confessions AU; in which Wanda ponders over her growing feelings for you, tries her hardest to deal with them and, when asked out to a date night at the local Fall Festival, she tests out Agatha's advice ✎— warnings: this is an 18+ series, minors DNI; fluff, smut; morning after deep thoughts, brief-ish make outs, a lot of kisses bc Wanda said so; masturbation; ice cream debauchery; thigh kisses and our favorite soft, flustered Wands

✎— words: 6.2k

series masterlist. || main masterlist.

It was almost noon when you woke up the next morning, groggy and disoriented. As your brain caught up with your body, you registered warmth under your cheek, a gentle hand lazily stroking your hair; Wanda. The gentle rise and fall of her stomach could’ve lulled you back to sleep, might have too, if a traitorous yawn hadn’t given you away. “Look who’s awake.” 

You turned over with a groan, hiding your face in Wanda as she giggled at your display. “You could’ve woken me up if you weren’t sleeping.” 

Wanda pretended to think it over, not once planning on giving away that she’d be a fool to pass up the chance to commit the sight of you peacefully asleep on top of her to memory. “You needed your rest.” 

Quiet moments like these happened to be Wanda’s favorites; where anything was possible and she could pretend that when you finally did awaken, she’d smother you in kisses and the two of you could roll around in bed for a lazy Sunday morning together. Where eventually, when she somehow pries you off of her, she’d stroll to the kitchen on shaky legs and make the apple cinnamon pancakes she remembered you telling her your mother used to make you as a child; the breakfast you missed most. And after a quick shower, you, not wanting to be anywhere else in the world, would sit at her small IKEA kitchen table and tell her all about your alcohol induced dreams. 

All of that was possible until you woke up and you, the real you, sat up and stretched with an even louder yawn, casually reaching over her to grab the glass of water she knew last night you’d need right this minute. You drained the cup’s contents in one long gulp, setting it back on the nightstand before perching on the edge of the bed, one leg folded under you while the other dangled. 

Wanda wished she could be the type to coax you back to bed, insist you sleep more and if not that, at least lay with her a little while longer, but the words sounded silly in her head and your imagined rejection stung her heart enough not to chance it.

You regarded her properly after a few slow blinks, taking in the sight of Wanda still half propped against her pillows, blankets now askew after you got up and tossed them aside. She looked smaller now, nestled amongst her plush bedding and looking up at you expectantly. The previous night’s events came back to you in a flash; the party, the game, the kiss that ended it, and the other that started something new. You cast a risky glance downwards, spotted perfectly patterned silk shorts and wondered whether the night’s hours alleviated any of that ache Wanda had tried subtly rubbing away with her legs as you fell asleep. Instead when you opened your mouth, a completely different line of questioning came out. “I shouldn’t be surprised you wear matching pajama shorts to bed.”

She knew you didn’t mean anything by it, but you were also blissfully unaware of the skimpier white one-piece she’d originally planned on luring you to bed with. The further away it got, the more Wanda wanted to hit herself for thinking she could ever stage such an after-party for you, on your first night out together no less. “I like to match! I shouldn’t be surprised you wear your street clothes to bed.”

Wanda was referring to your wrinkled t-shirt, the outstretched fabric and your underwear being your chosen sleepwear. Typically you did only wear a shirt, some old things you’d retired from your wardrobe and relegated to being strictly house wear until you officially wore it to shreds, “Well I didn’t have much choice, did I? You’re the one who asked me to stay, or would you rather I sleep naked?” 

Laughter erupted from deep in your belly when the brunette’s jaw went slack, eyes wide as saucers, “You know that’s not what I meant! I don’t care what you wear!”

“Hey, your bed, your rules, princess. Just let me know for next time.” Next time, you’d said with a suggestive wink; if Wanda wasn’t already stunned into silence would surely send her rambling on.

Beside her earlier fantasies, she hadn’t factored in clothing, much less the absence of it. That train of thought sent her spiraling; she could see your legs in their entirety, goose pimpled from the cold air, but devilishly soft looking, but she was more curious to what lay under where you were covered— what you felt like, where you were most sensitive, if anywhere else made you shudder like Wanda discovered you did whenever she trailed her short nails over the nape of your neck. 

“Think any harder and steam will come out of your ears,” you chuckled, getting up to uncover wherever you’d tossed your jeans. Messing with Wanda never failed to be an impeccably funny start to your day, but here, now, you had to put a stop to it. If you continued, you worried Wanda really would blow a gasket or worse, you’d push her so hard you’d break. “Don’t worry, I’m going off to go shower. I’ll leave you alone in a minute.”

Curious as Wanda was, you were exponentially so, wanting to snatch her up and take her and discover every place that made her tick. But Wanda was still drowsy, evident in the tiny yawns she hid behind her hands and how her head lolled against the headboard once she’d calmed herself down, and you needed her wide awake for everything you wanted. 

So, admittedly, you were a little shocked to turn around after slipping on your shoes to find Wanda not only sitting fully upright, but with a very obvious forlorn look across her features. “You’re leaving?”

You shrugged, so casually her frown only deepened, “I know you like to clean on Sundays, don’t want to be in your way.” Not the real reason, but true enough to be believable. Wanda was notorious for her Sunday cleaning, preferring to start her week out as organized as possible. You told yourself to stop, not to tease her anymore, but she looked so akin to a kicked puppy you couldn’t help it, “What’s wrong, miss me already?”

Maybe she hadn’t fully coped with the loss of her fantasy day, or she’d lost her patience altogether, but whatever it was, Wanda wanted to cry. Again. She hated it, despised that instinctive response, and wanted to do anything to deflect that energy. So she picked up an unused pillow and launched it. The fluffy object flew at your face before you could catch it, smacking you with a dull thud. “Not with that attitude, I don’t.” 

Her outburst gave Wanda enough time to wipe her eyes, ensuring there weren’t any tears that couldn’t be passed off as sleepiness; by the time your vision returned, she was sitting with her arms folded defiantly over her chest, pointedly avoiding having to look at you. Wanda was strangely huffy, but instead of catching her genuine disappointment, you wrote it off as morning crankiness and tossed the pillow back to her side. “Just for that, you’ve forfeit your goodbye kiss.”

You were joking really, having not even thought about giving her another kiss because she’d had yet to mention the others, but Wanda didn’t know that. She shot up in an instant, shuffling over to where you stood at the end of her bed and flinging her arms around you in an apologetic hug. “No wait, I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me I just-”

One gentle finger pressed against Wanda’s mouth, silencing her until all she could do was gaze up at you with pleading eyes from where she’d planted her chin on your chest. “You don’t want a kiss right now anyways, I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

Wanda shook her head, brushing off your excuse, “Neither have I…” If you were going to leave, she wouldn’t let you without the one thing she knew she could have. She’d make peace with her boring Sunday cleaning alone in her apartment, the lack of you, all of it, if she could face the day freshly kissed. 

“Just one. We’ll make it quick,” You couldn’t deny her, not when you felt envious of her own teeth, biting down on her pink lower lip like you’d briefly done last night. Your thumb pried the flesh away from her grip, promptly replacing it with your mouth. It was meant to be a simple peck, short and sweet, but when the tip of your tongue accidentally brushed Wanda, she gasped— a tiny, quiet thing that sucked you right in. 

Wanda parted her lips as you nudged against them once more, let the rough surface of your tongue slide over the straight row of her teeth and surrendered herself to whatever this new blissful feeling was. She could taste the last bits of alcohol on you, much less than the times previous, and having fully sobered up, your lead was more sure, more insistent, and it made Wanda’s legs tremble. 

Somewhere in your embrace, the brunette’s arms fell from around your midsection and you pulled away, allowing you both air and her to fall back to her seated position. She touched her fingers to her lips, tried to ignore the tingling in her core that begged her to press just a little bit harder into the mattress for the friction it so desperately craved. 

You had to leave Wanda there, her wildly lost expression too much for you to handle. “Text me when you’re free, princess.” You ruffled her already messy hair before leaving, the action coming across way too platonic for the intensity you’d just shared. 

She heard her apartment door click, signaling she really was alone, and she planned to get up, honestly. But as her legs parted to move, a thick fold of her comforter dragged over her clothed center and Wanda couldn’t talk herself out of doing it again.. and again… and again until the lace underwear she’d picked to hopefully show off to you when she got home were thoroughly soaked. 

It was all too easy to sink back into her fantasy land, the one where you hadn’t left, deciding instead to stay and waste the last half of your weekend kissing her instead. Eyes screwed shut, she imagined it was your bare leg she mounted instead, offering your thigh up to her as long as she let you have your way with her mouth. It was slightly uncomfortable, damp fabric pulled taut against her, but shaky fingers came to tug them to the side, pretending they were yours as her fingertips momentarily played with her clit before she forced her hips down swiftly. 

Wanda didn’t know what you’d say, if you’d say anything during her frenzied display, but she hoped you did; something less practiced than the videos she’d seen. You’re so gorgeous all worked up for me, princess, a name you’d called her before and each time her heart latched onto you a fraction more, I want to see you cum now, will you do that for me?

She nodded her head as if you were still right there with her, mouth falling open as she rut her bare cunt over her comforter at just the right angle. If she focused enough Wanda could see your sly grin, that look you gave when you knew you’d gotten her right where you wanted, pretended her fists were balled tight into your shirt instead of her wrinkled sheets, “Yes, yes… I’ll do it! I-I’m gonna…!” 

Wanda came with a whimper, weakly jerking her hips until she could no longer hold herself upright and fell forward. Dull aftershocks pulsed pleasantly through her body, but her pussy clenched around nothing, begging for something more Wanda never worked up the confidence to give it. The shame she felt having ruined not only her new undergarments, but also her shorts and sheets, laying limply in the cooling wet spot she’d made in her dalliance, was more than enough to leave her cheeks burning hot and she let out a loud, dramatic groan into her pillow. 

Luckily, it was already laundry day. 

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

That evening, once Wanda showered the last of yesterday’s events away, washed her dirty clothes, and carefully remade her bed with new sheets, she flopped down on her couch in exhaustion. She pondered texting you, but the mere thought made her brain fly back to earlier activities and she wasn’t quite ready to face you yet. Instead she pressed Agatha’s name, thumbs hovering over the keypad as she tried to figure out how to even start the conversation she wanted to have. 

So we kissed… three times…

The text barely read as delivered before Wanda’s phone buzzed, Agatha clearly having been on her device already, Three times where?

She fought the urge to toss her phone as she read the message punctuated with a suggestive emoji. Of course Agatha would think the worst. On the mouth, obviously! We’ve only been out once! 

Once is more than enough, even nuns like you have to know thatWhat happened?

Wanda detailed the last twenty-four hours as positively as possible, leaving out the game context for what was technically your first shared kiss. She smiled as she recalled your little bedroom fall, your sleepy scramble to rejoin her; maybe she’d be willing to face another party in the future if it meant spending the night with you.

She stayed over and she didn’t try anything? Did you scare her off or something? Wanda sunk deeper into the couch, having convinced herself your restraint was more because you were drunk than her putting you off. But she was well aware you’ve slept with Carol before, much more intoxicated than last night and haven’t spent even half the time together she had with you; it wasn’t the setting or the timing that was the problem. As her thoughts wandered again, Wanda hoped she wasn’t the issue.

Unfortunate turn of conversation aside, it gave Wanda the perfect opening she needed to talk about what she texted her friend about in the first place. I don’t know how to tell her I’m interested in her in.. that way…how we talked about? But I don’t want her to think I’m too forward.

So what if she thinks you’re a bit of a slut, that’s hot!

Aggie! Be serious!

Even as Agatha assured her that she would never joke about something as serious as someone’s awakening, Wanda groaned; maybe she should’ve texted Natasha… she’d tell her roommate anyways. Just tell me what to do.

Take the opportunity when it comes and when it does, go with it.

The advice was easier said than done, Wanda first needing to know what an opportunity looks like to even have a hope of seizing it. Trading her phone for a pillow, she dropped the plush object over her head, squishing it to her face just enough to muffle the anguished sigh she couldn’t hold in one second longer.

The two of you were… terribly normal after that weekend. Still inseparable in your classes, you continued to come over in your free time, flirted with her until she shook— now though, Wanda quickly grew addicted to your kisses. Never as intense as Sunday morning, but whenever there was a quiet moment, walking behind a building or before you went back to your respective rooms, if she tugged at your hand and waited, you’d give her what she was after. Anyone else, you’d call them childish or brush the behavior off after a while, but each time you felt that shy pull on your sweater, you melted. You were falling for her so fast, so hard; if you ever crashed, it’d hurt like a drop from a skyscraper.

It was always private though, Wanda treating each touch or smooch as illegal levels of scandal. You tried not to think about it too much; she wasn’t ashamed of you, just introverted. When you tried to think of a time where you’d been so intent on secrecy, you were thrown back to your first girlfriend; everything was so special that you’d been obsessively possessive with keeping those butterflies between you and your partner, where no one could ruin them. Considering Wanda and what she’s been through, you couldn’t blame her for hoarding her joy. Besides, there’s something undeniably hot about sneaking around.

Nonetheless, however much time you spent with her, you always wanted more. Maybe that was your own greed amidst Wanda’s; as long as she’d have you, you’d keep her. “So Wands,” you whispered to get her attention, not wanting to scare her or disrupt your professor’s impassioned monologue on the global impacts of the evolution of the written world, “do you have any plans this evening?”

Wanda looked up from her detailed notes long enough to let you know she was listening, her pen still writing, “You know I don’t.” 

“I’m just checking!” You nudged her gently, winding your arms around her until your head rested on her shoulder. “Since you’re not busy, would you be up for checking out the fall festival with me?”

Wanda stopped writing then, turning to you again as your lips kissed her shoulder. You were looking at her in that peculiar way again, where your eyes got so wide they started to shine, the barest hint of a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of your mouth; she doubted you knew how often you gave yourself away like that. “Is this a date? Do I need to dress up?”

“Yes to the date, no to dressing up.” Last weekend, she’d gone so far out of her comfort zone for you; now you wanted to take her somewhere she could hopefully relax and have a more familiar type of fun. Wanda mentioned in passing her dad used to bring her and Pietro to the fair nearly every year and while she hadn’t outright said she wanted to go, you were sure she’d want to go. 

“Hm..” When Wanda returned to her notetaking, you figured she was just thinking it over, but she didn’t write anything, held her pen too tight, and chancing another glance at her face, her teeth worried her bottom lip how she did whenever she fell too deep in her head. A few days after Carol’s comment, Wanda dressed differently; it started with her party outfit, black and fitted, and while she’d gone back to her patterns, her dresses now were shorter, thinner. Today’s choice was a dark pink slip dress, adorable but modern, and while you wouldn’t complain or tell her what to wear, her pointed refusal to bring her favorite cardigan to classes made you wonder if Wanda felt like she had to make a change. 

You thumbed over the curve of her hip, pulling her close enough to nuzzle into her neck. It was the furthest she’d let you go in class without pushing you away; as long as you could reassure her somehow. “Wear exactly what you are right now. I’m just excited to take you out, silly.” 

“You look very pretty today, sunshine.” Wanda sighed long and deep, relaxing her shoulders and trying to absorb your reassurance. She loved the fair, missed not going the past couple of years, and she knew she was bound to have a good time if you were there; her nerves just wanted to eat her alive. “I’ll win you something soft and get you all the fair food you want?”

“It’s really not smart to keep offering me things before I’ve even said no.” She turned quickly, pressing a small peck to your warm forehead before scribbling away yet again, “Now I’ll make you win me the biggest teddy we can find.”

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

The fair was pretty much how Wanda remembered it, same layout, same variety of vendors, same rigged carnival games. You were happy to let her show you around, not that this small county fair was anything innovative, but Wanda was so thrilled to point out her favorite booths, it was only polite to let her guide the way. 

True to your word, after a dozen tries you’d conquered the bean bag toss, winning the brunette a pink bunny rabbit who she immediately dubbed Carrot. You’d paid for that thing at least twice over by the time you won, but Wanda snuggled it so lovingly, cooed over the object so sweetly… money well spent. “He’s going to sit right on my bed all the time so I can remember your perseverance!”

“Oh I’m honored, a coveted bed post for my little thing!” Your gasp was way too dramatic, a few people close by turning their heads to find the source of the sound. Wanda swatted at your arm before pulling you along, but you stopped her as soon as you felt her chilly hand in yours. “Are you cold?”

Wanda shrugged, taking her hand back to fold her arms over her chest as a gust of wind blew by. “A little, but…well…”

“You didn’t bring a jacket.” Wanda’s sweater rejection strangely carried into your date and the further into the afternoon it got, the worse of a choice today’s dress was. Usually she’d pull on a sweatshirt as soon as she settled into her apartment or you could persuade her to bring an outer layer if it wasn’t during school, but tonight she’d insisted three times not to worry about her. “I’m starting to think you’ve stopped wearing sweaters just to steal my jackets.”

“Would you be mad if I did?” A playful grin grew on Wanda’s expression, teeth biting her lower lip as she waited for you to give in. If there was one thing she loved more than her own collection of thick cotton knits, it was your hoodies. None of them braced against the cold as much as hers, but the embedded smell of you kept Wanda plenty warm. 

You sighed and shed your jacket, momentarily taking Carrot from Wanda’s arms before helping her into the sleeves. It was a little too big for her small frame, extra material slouching over her shoulders and to her wrists, and as she took her precious stuffed animal back, snuggling it to her chest, your heart leapt. “Not when you look as good as you do in them.”

Wanda didn’t know where to go with the compliment, still painfully lost on how to reciprocate such a comment, but she knew she didn’t want you to spot her blushing from something so small. In a panic, Wanda spun around, darting to the nearest stall and practically leaving you in the dust. “Come on, I want ice cream!”

“Are you sure you want something that’s gonna make you colder right now?” You went after her of course, catching up only when she paused to take a spot in line. Wanda really could run fast when she wanted to.

She nodded, pretending to study the menu that only gave her three different choices of soft serve, “You promised all the fair food I wanted. Right now, it’s ice cream.” 

Once she’d gotten it, she only took a few licks, taking much more interest in walking and talking with you than eating. You noticed and, figuring she might be the type that prefers to sit and eat rather than realizing her diversion for what it was, found a set of hay bales just off the beaten path of fair traffic. 

Wanda didn’t mind, let you help her onto the middle row of the haystack and tried not to visibly stiffen when you sat below her… between her legs. It’s just a convenient place to sit, she tried reasoning, willing herself to focus on anything besides the warmth of your back on the inside of her calf. Lost in thought, she missed the small drip of ice cream over her fingers until it fell onto her knee, “Great…I forgot napkins.”

Without thinking, you ducked down and licked the melted mess, your tongue making quick work of where she’d spilled it. You should’ve been even a bit more ashamed for the forward action, but in your head it was harmless. An easy and helpful fix for a lack of napkins, was all. “Finish your ice cream quickly, Wands. You’ll make a mess.” 

The brunette was stunned at how casually you’d licked her, having gone straight back to mindlessly scrolling your phone without a care in the world. Meanwhile a thin coat of your saliva cooled on her leg, prickling at her skin and daring her to wonder what that same action would feel like elsewhere on her body. You weren’t paying her any extra attention, giving Wanda ample chance to run through her options: act outraged and warn you not to do it again, something that was so big of a lie Wanda wasn’t sure she could believably play it off, or allow herself a stint of not so innocent curiosity. 

Her hand tipped before she’d rationalized it any further, a larger drop above her knee this time.  Wanda needed to see if you’d do it again; what she would feel if you did it again. “I’m trying, but it’s cold..”

Her whine from above caught your attention, turning around to see Wanda’s once again sticky leg and sighing. “You’ll ruin your dress and then I won’t hear the end of it-” You licked it off, forcing away your suggestive thoughts… until you looked up. Her face gave her away instantly, cheeks pink and eyes alert; she did it on purpose. 

The current position wasn’t wasted on you, perched perfectly in between her legs, just above eye level to her bottom half. To what extent Wanda caught on, you didn’t know, but you’d be a fool not to at least try, “Careful…” You shifted enough to place both hands on her legs, sliding the hem of her dress a few inches up as a small test of her comfort. If she pushed you away, you wouldn’t have been surprised, the public setting making this all more scandalous than you ever thought Wanda would agree to. 

But she didn’t move a muscle, not one utterance of protest; Wanda kept her eyes locked on you. The hay bales were faced away from any crowds, far enough that nobody walked directly past you; if someone knew the back of Wanda’s head they could spot her, but whatever lust clouded her brain, that was enough security for now. Another set of drops fell, purposeful now that you both were on the same page. Wordlessly, she watched as your tongue made another appearance, licking away her self-made mess. 

Each time she spilled the cold treat, you lapped it up with a slow sweep, lingering longer the higher you got. Wanda doubted you noticed you’d begun a series of low groans, fully leant over as you kissed each area you cleaned. Everything she knew taught her to be ashamed of both of your behaviors, overtly passionate and so very inappropriate, but honestly it only turned Wanda on more. If she had to be penitent for the rest of her life over this, so be it.

You had none of the same moral dilemma Wanda had, more than willing to play this little game all night. You’d yet to speak aloud how much her legs lived in your head, every sighting of them driving you just that little bit further into the depths of your growing need for the girl now leaning back to let ice cream fall higher. When you’d slept on her, you’d done so with thoughts running wild of how to touch them again, how sensitive she’d be if she allowed you even five minutes to focus on her impossibly smooth skin; never in your wildest dreams did you think Wanda would offer herself up like she was now.

At mid thigh, she was visibly twitching, either from damp skin exposed to the cold, arousal, or a combination of the two. “You just had to go and get yourself all wet and sticky?” Her ice cream trick, yes, but as you spoke, your eyes were trained under Wanda’s hitched dress, the barest hint of her underwear visible in the dim light of dusk. It was torture to only just be able to see her, restraining your urge to dive closer and confirm what you’d bet money on was a dark spot on the white cotton fabric.

Wanda was breathing so heavily her chest heaved, both mortified and flattered by your shameless ogling. She nearly snapped her legs shut, instinct screaming to hide and deny the effect you had on her; a louder voice remembered Agatha’s go with it advice and she had to admit, this proved a lot more fun. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, I swear…”

It was a fake apology, accented with the largest spill yet, a heavy glob of her near fully melted dessert landing on her inner thigh… right next to where you were already staring. Countless times she’s asked for kisses; same principle, different area. “First my jacket and then wasting my money on something you had no intention of eating properly, what a naughty girl you’ve been.”

She thought sure her eyes would roll back into her head as you cleaned her up again, your tongue making slow, languid strokes Wanda vowed to commit to memory. When the last of the chill was gone, Wanda assumed you’d pull away, but if you had to give something up today, you’d grant yourself the reward of adding your own piece to her game. Lips making noises Wanda would only ever describe as obscene, you sucked a hickey into the sensitive skin of her thigh; a not-so-gentle reminder of what you could do should the other girl let you. 

When you backed up, it was to sit straight on your knees, hands glued to Wanda’s hips where you still had her dress pinned. She looked terribly disheveled, poor thing, free hand clutching her stuffed rabbit for dear life while her mouth hung open far enough to let you know she was seconds away from outright panting. “Think you’ll bring napkins next time or will you let me lick you clean forever?” 

It was those devious circles your thumbs rubbed into the join of her hips that did her in, so close to where she was scared she was now dripping, an unexpected shudder forcing Wanda to drop the entire cone, the sugary mixture splattering across her dress and your jacket. “Oh! I promise I didn’t want to do that!”

You remained unfazed, one track mind set on kissing lips bit so hard they’re now slightly swollen. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” And you were so close too, less than an inch from the trembling girl in front of you— Carol calling your name was the one thing that ruined it all.

It took you a moment to register you were on the ground, Wanda having shoved you back as hard as she could the instant she heard. You watched from below as she righted her dress, your ass stinging from the heavy fall while Wanda tried looking as normal as possible. She turned to see Carol approaching with barely contained laughter, having witnessed Wanda knocking you off balance. The blonde only wanted to ruin your moment, she had no idea her classmate would actually push you; that just made it all the more funny. “Might be pushing your luck after that one kiss, buddy. Think that was it for a lifetime!”

Wanda shot you an apologetic look as Carol passed, the shock and confusion on your face darkening her mood further. “I’m so sorry. It’s just, I heard her and panicked and I…” She wasn’t ashamed to be with you, not in the slightest; she was forever in awe of you being so willing to be seen with her. Maybe not for much longer, if she kept up her habit of sneaking around and shoving you off, “What if she tells? Oh god, it’ll be awful-”

“I’m fine, don’t worry. I get it.” You cut her off before she could spiral out of control, jumping up a little too fast for how much your back hurt and brushing the dust off your pants. Truthfully, you didn’t get it, you’d never had to experience anywhere near what Wanda grew up with, couldn’t imagine the lasting impact that might have on someone. Reminding yourself to be patient was hard but doable, picking up Wanda’s stuffed rabbit and placing it into her shaking hands at the same time you pressed a comforting kiss to the crown of her head. “We should get you home anyways, it’s getting late.”

The sun was nearly completely gone now, far off on the horizon, a deep purple sky replacing its bright light. Wanda wanted to ask you to stay, to try again and see if she could revive the moment she and Carol broke, but large globs of ice cream were soaking into her dress, splattered from when she’d dropped her cone and darkening the pink color; both she and her outfit needed a wash. “Yeah, okay. I’m sorry…”

“I didn’t ask you to apologize.” Wanda took your hand when you offered it, let you zip up your hoodie around her to somewhat cover the large stain; no matter how lighthearted your tone was, she couldn’t shake the embarrassment scratching at her, filling her head with now way too familiar thoughts of how stupid she’d been. 

You kept your arm around her the whole way to your car, constantly checking over to see if her slumped posture and shy mood improved; it didn’t. Every day you spent around Wanda, each time the two of you danced a little closer, your need for her grew. It was harder and harder not to just take her, especially when she came out of her bathroom freshly showered, shuffling over to her bed in yet another too sweet set of pajamas. 

She cuddled up to you wordlessly, choosing not to comment on how presumptively you’d settled into her bed because this time, it fit her needs. Natasha taught her the subtler way of flirting, close contact, small touches, things felt rather than seen. But even after wrapping her arms around your middle, fingering the edge of your shirt, letting her nails graze just barely over your hip, you didn’t make a move. In fact, you were notably less touchy than usual and Wanda hoped to god she hadn’t ruined her last chance back at the fair. 

In reality, you were just barely hanging on to the last bits of your restraint, rationalizing to yourself Wanda’s touches meant nothing more than absentminded fidgeting. You hadn’t bargained on how badly she could affect you, not her floral scented shampoo or whatever body wash she used that made her skin heavenly soft, but all of it was dangerous. You’d resolved not to try anything further tonight, wanting to give Wanda ample space to recover from whatever she felt with Carol’s sudden appearance; she made it nearly impossible to do the right thing. 

“So..about earlier?” You asked, giving in and pulling one of her legs until it lay over your lap, greedily demanding more closeness from her you didn’t know she was more than willing to give. 

“Yeah, I…I liked it.” Liked was a grave understatement, a laughable comparison considering how the mere reminder of it all made her thighs tense up all over again. This was where Wanda expected you to make some kind of move, anything really, some hint that gave her an ounce of reassurance that you wanted to try again. 

But your hand stayed still splayed over the curve of her hip, unmoving while a billion thoughts ran through your head. You didn’t even kiss her like she’d come to be accustomed to, what you knew full well she was expecting once you’d gotten her home. Whether she was aware you could feel every squeeze of her legs around your abdomen or not, you refused to speak up about it. If you had to be tormented by her fingers still scraping your warm side, Wanda could handle a little torture herself. No, you’d stay quiet as a mouse, just to see what leaving her wanting more would do. “Right, I’m glad.”

Wanda wanted to shake you, to sit on your lap, push you back, pin you down, and just… yell very explicit words until you understood how much she needed you to fuck her. Maybe it wouldn’t be the sexiest thing in the world to have to ask someone to take her virginity, but she’s never wanted it gone so badly. Something new had washed over Wanda in her time with you, some obsessive need whose intensity might’ve worried her if it didn’t always feel so damn good.

She knew you’d done it plenty of times before, last week you told her you’d have sex with her if she wanted to. Well, Wanda wanted it and she was determined to get it sooner rather than later, preferably before she exploded from sheer frustration.

[djevelbl]

Hello everyone! Welcome back to the second edition of Djevel Stalks Someone's Blog, Sees a Comment and Goes On an Out-loud Tangent So. Hard. He Might As Well Make It a Tumblr Post

I'm your host Djevel, and today I'll talk about my own viewpoint on Colly/RuneStraw: completely unnecessary, definitely not asked for yet still delivered to your fyp like that copy of The Book of Bill delivered to that poor sod who bought a church study book on amazon or somethin', exactly how I want my stupid over-the-top opinions to be baybeyyyyyyy~

Now lemme preface this by saying a couple things:

#1: I don't mind RuneStraw half as much as this over-the-top post will make it look like, they're actually cute af together and have a great dynamic going on! I just like to bitch about stuff, I love yapping and the blog blurb already says that I'll "scream into the void about whatever media I'm consuming" - you read that, clicked on read more, don't come at me over this of all things. As a show of good will, I'm writing this as I listen to Love Again - Dua Lipa (really good also fits these two dweebs really well so there's that)

#2: This is just my opinion and if at any point you feel like I gotta remind you of this fact: put the hands away from the keyboard, open the window and smell outside air - it ain't that deep. You can always just not read it

#3: If you so happen to identify yourself as the blog I was stalking before I started typing this out - this isn't criticising your post or anything, I'm just a sleeper agent on the subject and happened to wake myself up with that post lmaooo (also no you're not. I don't wanna have a confrontation over this ❤)

With that out of the way - let the bloodbath begin (probably mine as well LMAO)

Let's start strong and lemme say it already: I don't think the fact that Cup is into Holly is a counter-argument to the "why can't they just stay friends" bc that's not really answering the question?? At least whenever I ask it it's less about the now and more about the whole relationship - beyond giving Cup a solid, tangible goal to reach through rehabilitation and tHERAPY IF HE EVER GETS IT and giving Holly stability in a world much more dangerous than she thought, both of which can be given to them through different means, what does having them kissing do for them as growing characters, and what does it do for the narrative? After all they're puzzle pieces within a larger story, and while I love preaching about considering your characters like people when you sit down to analyze them, you still have to understand them as the puzzle pieces they are: they all have an individual purpose within the story, and the connections you decide to make between them have to give something to them or at least to the narrative. Something nothing else can give them, so we care about those connections.

Something I'm not sure having these two goobers kissing quite accomplishes. But maybe I'm just a hater, idk

Now getting into more of my own perspective on RuneStraw - would you believe me when I tell you I groaned out loud when I read it? Y'know what I mean - any set-up for the ship between book 11 and 12 is valid if it came up to your head when I said it, I probably groaned at all of them lol and that's because to me it came out of nowhere; sure, Holly had mentioned she had a crush on Cup back when she was dating Finnley I think (remember him? yea,,, I miss him too), but she was:

1) Dating someone at the time.

2) Talking about it in a past tense, implying she didn't feel that way anymore.

3) Building off of 2 - with the way she mentioned it, it genuinely sounded like she's distanced herself from the sentiment; from what I remember she talked about in the same way one does about thoughts and feelings one had years ago. Almost like they're from a different person.

These three things led me to believe she wasn't interested in him nor was she gonna be - her crush was based on an image Cuphead willingly puts up as a shield and that by now she knows is fake; her feelings back then were born out of a dark, mysterious and brooding façade he constantly put up that dissipated the moment she had more than a few words exchanged with him. The mysticism was gone, the alure is as well - she was left with a genuine yet broken man, not the put-together mobster she thought he was. And while it isn't impossible she recovered those feelings but directed towards the actual Cuphead, it feels like an odd choice to backtrack her character like that.

There's also the fact that they were the only duo of different genders that wasn't gonna be a romantic pairing, Until they weren't.

And I'll come out and admit it: maybe this point is most of the reason why RuneStraw bothered me as much as it did when it got introduced more heavily. This is the thing: the question of "why can't they just stay friends?" is a valid one to throw into the conversation - as I said, they were the only friends of opposite genders who didn't wanna get into each other's pants, because AliBends is canon (if currently doomed by the narrative), Minnie and Mickey obviously like each other, Donald and Daisy are dating I'm pretty sure, Jake has active feelings for Alice to the point he distanced himself from her to manage his own emotions and keep them in check when it became obvious she isn't actually interested in him romantically, and even if this next one isn't quite the Inky Mystery Team's fault (after all they're working off whatever scraps Quest for the Ink Machine left in its wake) I'll throw it in the ring just to drive the point across: while Cala Maria is her own character and her own person, often times it feels like the deepening of her character and whatever conflicts she may be going through are there for the benefit of Mugman's own struggles and character arc; we don't see much of her reaction at Mugs' heroic but reckless deal with Marcus or her reaction to having been found, we don't hear much about her ink illness beyond that one chapter where she started showing symptoms. For as much personality as she has and for as lovable as she is, sometimes she feels like Mugman's romantic interest first, herself second - probably due to not being part of the main cast, which is fair to some extent.

Personally I don't see RuneStraw as a romantic connection that had to be done necessarily - what each provides to the other's character development (a tangible goal for Cuppy, a much-needed stability within a dangerous world for Holly) is already being provided by their friends, people they should be able to rely on. I guess I just feel a little sad that we don't have many bonding chapters between all the Questers, regardless of duos or dynamics that pair up the best: imagine (and bear here with me, this is getting into the headcanon territory lol) if angels can sense Demon Deals as these are an extension of a demon's magic (something angels can detect) and once Alice comes back from The Upper she notices - really notices, decides to pay attention - that there's something cold wrapped around Cup; they have a conversation where Cuphead tiptoes around his childhood and all the stardust he's gone through in one of the biggest displays of bravery and trust he's given us this far, and Alice knows he's not telling the whole truth but she listens, she listens and shares how it was growing up with expectations of being a great angel someday. He shows her trust, and she gives the same trust out of her own chest to him.

Imagine Bendy and Cala Maria bonding over a trip to the docks - we could get to know her better, how it was like living as a gorgon, sharing experiences between them on how terrible it is to be hated for something you cannot control, and laughing over the good bits their past can offer them. Finding a weird comfort in having been the monster for a little bit, as they could protect those they love with that infamy and the power it came with (Boris for Bendy and Ebi for Maria, of course) - hell, maybe we could hear of Cala's parents! How they were like, their little quirks and tricks, we could read about Bendy considering her lucky and Maria telling him he's found his family here, that those he's forgotten don't matter because they didn't stick around.

Imagine Alice relaying stories of how her younger siblings are rascals and comparing them to Boris, how much he'd get along with them, singing tunes and dancing for the hell of it - helping him get a better grip at dancing, if marginally, and managing to wring laughs out of him by the tons.

Imagine all of them around a table, sweets and treats laid out, as Felix and Alice do their damn hardest to one-up each other in their wild adventures from before they joined the Questers - the cat talking about his mad dash as he escaped that ferocious beast of a tiger, and he shows the scars like your dad shows you his most prized collections as he talks of the most dangerous bits. The angel taking a swig of her alcohol of choice before going into this maddened ramble about the greatest prank war she's ever been in against Jake, and how they both got banned from several places for a whole dang year. Even Sarah gets wrapped up in the shenanigans and fun once Bendy, Cuphead, Mugman, Holly, Boris and Cala Maria all join in to win the title of Wildest Adventure Story; she's just a child after all, even with incomprehensible magic woven into her soul. Maybe all of the house is there, listening as the Questers finally have a moment to breathe and be as young as they are - the oldest is Felix, and he's in his forties at most, he still has life to him.

This is supposed to be a recovery arc, and mantaining healthy friendships with other people can help a long way with those dark thoughts The Labyrinth left them all.

Romantic love isn't the be-all-end-all, it shouldn't be the ultimate objective of a character that makes them become stagnant and void of themselves, and I guess I just want boys and girls to share stories and rooms without their interactions being a making out or being politely pleasant, pick one situation. I guess I'm just socially blind and petty, maybe I'm taking a fanfiction too seriously - after all, it is made by fans and for the fans; it's no professional production, and sometimes it's just better like that.

TLDR: I go way too hard on fictional characters for wanting to boink, more at 10

Ok but now a real TLDR: I just want the Questers to interact more with each other and I'm not talking about the typical duos always formed like they're in school and they choose their bestie for the group project. I mean all the Questers. Also I went in wayy too hard against fictional characters that just wanna fuck in peace ig

[bitchyfoxymama]

Angel - Pietro Maximoff x F!Powered!Reader

Warnings: fix it fic where Pietro doesn't die at the end of Age of Ultron! Medical jargon is probably incorrect.

A/n: Anyway this is for a friend of mine who asked where Wanda's brother's fics were and why I haven't written any. Heres to you 🫡

All grammatical errors are my own bc I don't have beta readers.

...

“Male, Caucasian, approximately 22-24 years of age, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, abdomen and arms. His breathing is labored and blood pressure low.” One of my nurses says as we wheel this unknown man into the O.R.

“Alright! We need gauze, bowls and scalpels and blood! GO! GO! GO!” I yell at my team trying to save this young man’s life. I may be only 20 and one of the youngest surgeons in the world but my team knows I care about them and only yell when it’s something crucial.

“Here ma’am, everything you need.” Maria, my head nurse tells me while I walk into the room gloved and masked.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, we are going to save this man’s life.” I say looking around the sterile room.

*6 hours later*

“Alright we did it, great job guys. Move him over to an empty recovery room and let them know their friend is fine.” I say walking out. I go and stand near the coffee machine and buy myself a cup.

“So Doc, how's the kid?” I look up and see an old friend.

“Well, Stark, how many times have I told you not to call me Doc? Reminds me of Bugs Bunny, and he’s doing fine. We managed to save him, just barely. He lost a lot of blood, had multiple breaks, what the hell were you guys fighting?!”

“Uh robots, and besides if you had come along with us like I keep suggesting and using those wonderful powers you have-“ I cut him off before he can even finish his thought.

“Stark I’ve told you before, I’m not properly trained for combat, I’m just a doctor, and I’ll tell you what I’ll go and heal all his wounds right now, that way you’ll have him back.” I say sipping the black hot liquid.

“And I told you (y/n) there’s more out there than just shitty coffee and white walls. Listen I'll pitch the idea to Fury to have you move to the compound and become an avenger, you could help a whole lot more people if you agreed” He says as he walks back down the hallway and out the door.

I threw the cup of coffee away and walked into Pietro’s room. I learned of his name after the operation. He honestly looks very peaceful just lying there sleeping. I go and close the blinds and shut and lock the door. I don't need anyone not authorized to know about my powers to come stumbling in the room.

I take off my glove and remove his blanket from his chest; I take a deep breath and lay my hands on his chest. A white light filling up the room along with the slight hum of the machines connected to him.

When I finish he begins to slowly open his eyes. “Is that an Angel I see? A beautiful angel?”

I blush slightly “No Mr. Maximoff, I can assure you that I am no Angel. I am your Doctor; my name is (y/n) (l/n).”

“So I do have an angel in front of me because only an angel would have such a beautiful name as that.” He said smiling.

“Well it’s good to see you are getting back to normal brother” a female voice came from the door.

“Well that is my que to go, I’ll be checking back on you tomorrow and if everything looks good, you should be free to go within the next few days” I say sliding out of the door.

“She seems nice” I hear his sister say as I walk back to my office. Wait, how’d she unlock the door? Did she see me use my powers? All these questions went on swimming through my head.

******

“Good morning Mr. Maximoff, how are you feeling?” I asked while walking into his hospital room, looking at his medical charts “are you eating alright?”

“Good, I've gotten my strength back and maybe that means my speed came back?” he says, getting up in his bed. 

“Wow there mr maximoff you've only just started healing and you only recently had surgery. It might take some time for your speed to get back.” I say while gently lying him back down on the bed.

“Alright but promise me once we're out of here and I'm no longer your patient we will hang out and be friends yes?” he says while smiling the dorkiest of smiles I've ever seen.

“Yes, we are already friends but when you get released we can hang out” I say while grabbing my clipboard and walking back out of the room and closing the door. I lean against the wall outside and take a deep breath, wow i can't be falling for my patient but he wont be my patient next week, no next week he’ll be my teammate. 

Just before walking into his room this morning I had gotten a call from Stark informing me I would become an official member of the team, healing them whenever necessary as well as healing those injured during missions. 

This will surely be a fun experience especially when I have a handsome man like Pietro on my team. 

[chl-owo-e]

OK GUYS A POST FROM @radiant-reid GAVE ME THIS IDEA AND I REALLY WANTED TO CHECK AND SEE IF IT WORKS

It does! If you go to an AI bot and ask it to write something for you it will! Im only gunna use this bot for art ideas and maybe for promt ideas too. But in this case I did an experiment for some Spencer Reid fan fiction. Should I make this a series? And see what the bot makes for some well liked characters?

(Spencer Reid X Reader)

———————————————————————

Title: A Chance Encounter

Spencer Reid was sitting in a coffee shop, lost in thought, when he heard a soft voice say, "Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

He looked up and saw a woman standing in front of him, holding a cup of coffee. She was standing there shyly, and her eyes sparkled with intelligence and warmth. Spencer couldn't help but be captivated by her beauty.

"No, it's not taken," he said, gesturing to the empty seat across from him.

The woman sat down and smiled at him. "Thanks. My name is Y/n," she said, extending her hand.

"Spencer," he replied, shaking her hand.

They struck up a conversation, and Spencer bc found that he enjoyed talking to Y/n. She was smart, funny, and had an insatiable curiosity about the world. As they talked, Spencer felt a connection forming between them, and he realized that he was beginning to develop feelings for her.

Over the next few weeks, Spencer and Y/n continued to meet at the coffee shop. They talked about everything from literature to science, and Spencer found himself looking forward to their meetings. He wanted to tell her how he felt, but he was afraid of ruining their friendship.

One day, as they were walking out of the coffee shop, Spencer mustered up the courage to ask her out on a date. "Y/n, I know we've been meeting here for a while, and I really enjoy your company. Would you like to go out on a date with me?"

Y/n smiled and replied, "I'd love to, Spencer."

Their first date was at a museum, where they explored the exhibits and talked about their favorite paintings and sculptures. Spencer felt like he had finally found someone who understood him, and he knew that he wanted to be with Y/n for a long time.

As their relationship progressed, Spencer and Y/n faced challenges, but they worked through them together. They supported each other through their personal and professional struggles and grew closer every day.

Years later, as they sat in the same coffee shop where they had first met, Spencer looked at Y/n and said, "I'm so glad that I met you that day. You've changed my life in so many ways, and I can't imagine living without you."

Y/n smiled and replied, "I feel the same way, Spencer. You've brought so much joy and happiness into my life, and I'm grateful for every moment we've spent together."

And as they held hands and looked into each other's eyes, Spencer knew that he had found the love of his life in Y/n.

———————————————————————

A/N; I dont want this to be me just using AI to get some like on tumblr so if I do make this a series Ill edit it and add my twist to it. AI is getting dangerous for artists and writers and a lot more people, all because its just a robot creating things for free for someone to use and I dont want me to ‘capitalize’ off of it. As a Artist and a Writer, Im kinda worried for my un-forsaken future because of this thing.

[jenkinstheartis]

Noname Sundial

August 11, 2023 | 11 songs ; 32 minutes

so lovely, makes me feel black, pink and pretty. album cover looks ai generated? why?

she’s honing her sound now, perfecting it might i say!

★ = faves

one.black mirror: 8 out 10

so smooth, such a smooth way to pull me in. speaks to me in riddles. even smoother on the way out! sweet lil introduction, i always feel like she’s introducing herself to us at the beginning of her albums.

"am i supposed to feel this different? / like my rent's paid? / the devil's dead"

two.hold me down: 8.7 out of 10

(feat. Jimetta Rose & Voices of Creation)

nothing could compare to a black choir. her voice and alliteration, she kinda bragging on her skills, she's just too good sometimes.

"we too can cause harm, we should really link arms / they already take arms, a factory, fake farms / they killers, why we help them kills us?"

★ three.balloons: 9 out of 10

(feat. Jay Electronica & Eryn Allen Kane)

wanna listen to this while wearing leather and those skinny red sunglasses. and i wanna sit across from you with a cup of tea and over-analyze this song to you. her voice is something real iykyk.

"casual white fans / who invented the voyeur? / fascinated with mourning, they hope her trauma destroy her "

four.boomboom: 6 out of 10

(feat. ayoni)

im not a real fan of her earlier attempts at this genre (montego bae) but i do like this the more I listen to it so it’s an ever growing 6.

"i’m black, i’ve been black, fuck what you thought"

★ five.potentially the interlude: 9 out 10

y’all know jon bap? him and her, just like this <3. the flow of this is strong n slight. i love words and potential is threatening here, my potential is threatening to myself in this mindset. (this song feels slanted, don’t ask)

"if you were just a little bit more pretty / wrote a bit like kenny / you would have a life worth livin"

★ six.namesake: 10 out of 10

futuristic jazz spoken word. dread but encouraging. (jon bap born into this) reminds me of the 20s when they had those short lil bumped bobs and those planes flying over they heads with the smoke and perfectly tailored dresses.

"watch the fighter jet fly high / war machine gets glamorized / we play the game to pass the time / go noname go"

seven.beauty supply: 7 out of 10

great song, one of those that make me go “why do yt people listen to noname” (i know why I’m not stupid). makes me think of all the shitting that was done on the natural hair movement and how we went no where fr. bc it was taken over by yt folks

"cosplay a new identity, same enemy, / me / when I believe i’m prettier with my weave / when i could see the forest behind the trees / i’ll be free"

eight.toxic: 8 out of 10

triumph, healing, prosperity, and noname. what do all these things have in common? this song! this brings me back to window (my fave noname song fr)

"Never again in my new, new life, I treat me well"

nine.afro futurism: 7.5 out of 10

short but sweet. "how can you be getting it and innocent at the same time?" a little ode to the work she does outside of music and why she does it.

"this a dog eat dog world / she got family to hunt"

ten.gospel?: 4 out of 10

(feat. $ilkMoney, billy woods & STOUT)

love that she asked! The answer is no! i mean like her verse eats but the rest isn't for me. it can grow on me but i can't make it pass her verse and if i do i skip the last one. not for me but not everything is!

"wherever black people sleep, pray for them / pray for me, pray for me, pray for me"

★ twelve.oblivion: 10 out of 10

(feat common & ayoni)

okay common! great way to end the album. i love the word oblivion, no one’s around: oblivion, no one’s listening: oblivion. ayoni's voice is also amazing, she has a new fan and we can all thank noname.

"when the world blows up, that’s it / muthafucker I don’t care imma talk my shit / into oblivion."

Final (Serious) Thoughts noname brings attention to the commercial consumption of black people, explicitly black woman at times, in the media and how it feeds into capitalism. she calls out all the musicians in the spotlight profiting off black woe and black sorrow while living lavish, far away from it. she brings light to the destruction of consumerism that's happening within the black community. noname's enemy is capitalism and she's telling us, begging us to make it ours too. overall, this is a very well put together album and was so worth the wait.

lyrics from azlyrics and apple music.

[violettelueur]

RYŌMEN SUKUNA || KIND HEARTED

| featuring : ryōmen sukuna from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar error, but other than that n/a

| form : imagine

| word count : 1339

| published : 14 november

| request : could i request an imagine w/ sukuna where itadori’s best friend is just so welcoming of sukuna and tries to include him when they do things? like they’re just hanging out and she goes “sukuna would you like to try this” and she holds up a piece of food to his cheek so sukuna can try it and it just warms the curse’s cold dead heart bc she’s genuinely trying <3

| barista’s notes : i kinda went a little off track with this imagine ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ but i hope you enjoy your order of a cup of black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request) and that you have an amazing day! please come back again soon ʕ´•ᴥ•`ʔ

“You know, I think curses spirits have emotions”

“Mother, what in the world are you talking about? They don’t have feelings, they kill without remorse and try to gain power from their greed”

“Y/N dear, how are curses formed?”

“Negative emotions that results in cursed energy leaking from the bodies of humans”

“See ‘emotions’ is in the sentence dear”

“‘Humans’ mother, you forgot the word ‘humans’ was also in the sentence”

Back then you had no idea what your mother was suggesting or saying at that time. Curses having emotions? What was that all about? You knew from previous missions that some curses were intelligent from being able to take hostages to some being able to talk but other than that you still couldn’t comprehend what she was trying to communicate to you.

“You know the Legend of Sukuna?”

Looking up from your book, you stared at your mother - who was sitting on the opposite end of the room with a cup of tea in her hands - with a somewhat nonchalant but surprised expression on your face wondering why she brought up such a topic that was feared by most jujutsu sorcerers

“You used to tell me about it when I was younger, why are you bringing it up now?” you asked curiously, as you closed your book before gently placing it on your lap.

“We all know that the curse was a human before his fingers became cursed objects, don’t we? How do you think he felt when he was killed?”

You were about to answer her before you shut your mouth completely, not sure on how to even answer that question. How could you? No one knows the whole story to even come to a conclusion for that question, you have to interrupt the story in your own way to make one yourself? Wouldn’t he have been enraged when he was killed, annoyed at the fact that he lost in a way? Or was he unsettled? 

“Personally from my perspective, I think he would have been vexed at the fact that he somewhat lost, you mother?”

“I think the same as you, but I have a small feeling that he was upset for some reason, I’m not sure why though”

                                              ꕥ

You still have that assumption till this day. However, you were a little more open about your mother’s thoughts and took them into account sometimes when you were debating on the subject on your own. However, there was a slight shift in your opinion once Itadori Yuji unexpectedly came into your life.

The first time you meant the boy was when Gojo came back with him carrying him and Fushiguro back to Jujutsu high, confusing you completely on what was going on. For someone who was sent to just retrieve a cursed object, Fushiguro looked completely beat up and that worried you completely on what he had encountered during his time away. However, Gojo just couldn’t read the room.

“Yo Y/N, what is my favourite student doing at a time like this? It’s quite late you know,” he greeted you with a smile, before plopping Fushiguro on the ground.

“Sensei, now’s not the time to play with me, what the hell is going on?” you muttered annoyingly before using reserve curse energy to heal some of Fushiguro’s wounds.

After some time of your playful teacher explaining what was going on, you came to the conclusion that the boy ate the cursed object that Fushiguro was supposed to collect causing him to become Sukuna’s vessel as a consequence.

“So what you’re saying is that Fushiguro failed to get the object in the end,” you commented as you pointed at your close friend, leading to Gojo giving you an ‘okay’ sign telling you that you were technically correct.

“Was that all you got from the whole explanation Y/N?” Fushiguro irritatedly asked, causing you to lightly giggle before apologising to him.

                                              ꕥ

However, after that night, you made the decision to become friends with the teenager as you didn’t want him to feel completely isolated on his situation right now - he did leave everything behind to come to Tokyo - and with everything that was going to happen to him, you wanted him to live a happy life with people surrounding him before his execution after he ate all 20 fingers. What you didn't realise was this friendship would lead to you guys to have a sister and brother type of bond.

You and Itadori did everything together from going on missions together with Nobara and Fushiguro to randomly going out to do some shopping or showing him around Tokyo. As time went on, you decided to fully take in your mother’s opinion. You slowly included Sukuna in some of the activities that both of you would be participating in - usually this would involve you asking for his opinion on something, even if he sometimes gave a rude response.

“Do you think Sukuna is a pork or beef type of guy?” you randomly asked, as you lifted up your chopsticks that held a piece of cooked beef to Itadori’s cheek. “Sukuna, would you like to try this?” you kindly asked, leading to the curse to take a bite of the meat before his mouth disappeared like it didn’t appear in the first place.

“I never really asked, but why are you so kind to Sukuna? I mean he is a curse, after all, ain't sorcerers like you supposed to like, hate them?” Itadori asked in a confused tone, causing you to look up away from the meat that you were cooking to the boy that had asked you that question. 

To be honest, you weren’t so sure how to answer his question, just like the same situation that you were years ago when your mother asked you that question. How could you answer this time around? How could you answer this question now?

“Personally from my perspective, I guess I took in some consideration towards anyone’s emotions,” you casually answered, before going back to the meat that was cooking on the grill, leaving Itadori confused yet somewhat understanding what you were trying to say.

                                             ꕥ

Sukuna on the other hand was confused about what you were trying to interrupt to his annoying vessel as he sat quietly in his Innate Domain. Ever since the beginning of your friendship with Itadori, you had been nothing but kind-hearted toward him making him wonder what your intentions were from the start. However, over time he began to discover that’s what you were naturally. You were naturally just a kind-hearted person that was trying to become acquainted with him. You were generally trying.

It was hard to recall the last time he had someone to confide in - if there was anyone he even confided in at all - you were someone that took his emotions into consideration, you always question his reason for power, greed and destruction, instead of assuming that he was born with his sadistic nature. He still remembers that time you were able to somehow get close to him during his fight with Fushiguro and heal Itadori’s heart with no issues at all - making him intrigued on how powerful your reserve energy was. However, he remembers what you said to him as your hand was placed on top of the wound on his chest.

“Listen, I have no idea what caused you to become the man that you are today, I have no idea what pain you went through before your death 1000 years ago, I have no idea what you are feeling right now and I’ll try my best to understand” you quickly stated just as your curse began to revive his heart, “but right now, there is no way in hell am I going to let you kill Itadori, you got that Sukuna!”

That. That caused his cold empty heart to suddenly become warm.

Your kind-heartedness was the reason he began to reach out to you.

He wanted to cherish that trait of yours.

You were kind-hearted.

[miekasa]

sorry if you've already answered this, but what do you think the aot character's love languages would be? we know levi's is acts of service, but anybody else?

No worries! I don’t think I’ve answered for everyone before, so I’ll take a shot at it now bc I love thinking about people's love languages 😌

LEVI Gives: acts of service

This is one is talked about a lot, but Levi shows his love most often through doing things for you, even if you haven’t asked anything of him.

He’ll go out of his way to make your life easier and/or more comfortable in any way that he sees fit, and he doesn’t expect the same in return; it truly just makes him happy to know that he could have done something for you.

It includes bigger things like assembling furniture for you, building you something completely from scratch, or cleaning your car for; and also small things like making you a cup of coffee or tea, or even just holding your bag for you after a long day.

Needs: physical touch

Classic touch-starved man who doesn’t outwardly ask for physical touch, but doesn’t back away from it when you initiate it.

After some time, he’d begin to initiate himself, he just needs to get comfortable with the idea of it first; but after he is, it’s really cute to see. Catch him on a lazy morning, and he’s especially touchy; or find him after a long day of work, and he’ll cuddle himself right into your shoulder.

It makes him happy to know that you seek him out for physical comfort, and that he can begin to do the same. Also, he loves the feeling of you playing with his hair, it’s a surefire way to get him to fall asleep.

HANGE Gives: quality time, physical touch

Hange likes spending time with you, and loves roping you into their favorite hobbies, activities, and antics. Even something as simple as a 3 minute FaceTime call to ask them a quick question is enough to put a smile on their face.

They really just like to share their interests with you, and would love it if you did the same! Hange is willing to give everything a try at least twice for you.

Also loves physical touch, maybe not even necessarily in traditionally “romantic” ways either—having their hand around your shoulder to show you something on their phone, knocking into your body while they’re laughing, clapping your hands together out of boredom—all simple touches that make Hange happy.

Needs: gifts

Hange looooves presents, and you can’t prove me wrong. To them, it’s really touching to know that you would take the time to pick out or make something that you think they would like.

They cherish any and every gift you get them, even if it’s something as tiny and routine as bringing them a coffee during a busy a day at work, Hange never takes it for granted.

(And they also go on and brag about it to anyone who will listen, “Ah did you see my baby brought me coffee for lunch? Just how I like it too, they know me so well!”)

EREN Gives: quality time, words of affirmation

Quality time for Eren can also be mistaken as him spending all of his free time annoying the hell out of you, but it’s really just him being Loving.

When he’s not annoying you, he really does just like to be in the same space as you, even if you’re doing your own things. He likes having you around because you comfort him even if you’re not directly speaking to or interacting with him.

Words of affirmation come out of him in a very matter-of-fact tone. It’s almost as if he’s not consciously trying to affirm you or flatter you.

To him, he’s just saying what he believes is an objective truth: of course he thinks you’re smart and talented and pretty and fun to be around. If those things make you feel good, then it’s a bonus, but really, he just means it like it’s a fact of the universe.

Needs: gifts, physical touch

He’s not the best at giving gifts, but he does love to receive them, and honestly, he’s very humbled and flattered whenever you give him something that you clearly put a lot of time and/or effort into.

He almost feels undeserving of it, but he loves it all the same, and he really does cherish it. Even if it’s something as generic as a pair of shoes he was talking about, it still means a lot to him that you would remember and buy them for him.

Once he gets a taste of physical touch, he doesn’t know how to let go. All sense of personal space is out of the window, and this goes hand in hand with quality time once he discovers it.

Loves it when you touch him: play with his hair, play with or hold his hands, hug him out of the blue. Also loves to touch you, though he seems to not understand the size of his body when he’s draping himself over your shoulders, or has his leg over your thigh while you’re sitting on the bus.

ARMIN Gives: gifts

To him, it’s the simplest way to express himself without embarrassing himself by potentially tripping over his words. Also, gifts can be given remotely, so he doesn’t have to sit around worrying if you’ll love it or hate it while you open it.

Though, he certainly gains a lot of confidence over time, he still likes to leave you little presents to find when he’s not around. Something as small as buying your favorite candy and putting it in your coat pocket, or leaving flowers at your place.

He’s also very thoughtful, and when he does get you a bigger gift, or something to celebrate an occasion, he always makes sure it’s perfect.

He does it to make you happy, and when you’re happy, it makes him happy.

Needs: words of affirmation

He won’t ask for it, but it’s really reassuring to hear, and it makes him feel really good, and relieved to know that the person he loves thinks highly of him.

If you told him you’re proud of him, he might… he really might malfunction a bit, but your words would stick with him. The next time he was going through something hard or even just doubting himself, he’d remember what you said to him and it would give him a little push to get through it (and maybe be nicer to himself as a consequence).

Not necessarily an affirmation, but it also flatters him to hear that you think he’s attractive. Though, be careful when and how you say this, because he’s very… easy to excite.

MIKASA Gives: words of affirmation, acts of service

Mikasa lets you know how much you mean to her, and how much you mean to everyone in your life all the time. She doesn’t want you to ever feel like you’re less than you are.

She loves hearing about your progress or achievements in work/school and is quick to tell you that she’s happy for you and proud of you.

She’ll also do anything she can to help you out, so acts of service a big thing for her. She doesn’t want you to have to go out of your way to do something she could handle for you.

That isn’t to say that she thinks you’re incapable of fending for yourself; rather, that she would like to ease your pain whenever and wherever she can.

Needs: quality time

She doesn’t realize how much she likes/needs this until you guys start spending more time together; and it’s in your absence that she finds herself missing you more than she’d anticipated.

She doesn’t even mind sitting idly by while you’re busy or doing work, so long as she gets to be by your side. It also brings her a sense of comfort to be able to take care of you during this time; having snack breaks with you, occasional tangent conversations, and reminding you to rest when necessary.

She finds that one of the simplest means of quality time is sleeping next to each other; whether it be for a nap, or going to bed, it’s a kind of intimacy she never thought she’d crave, but comes to really, really enjoy.

JEAN Gives: quality time, gifts

Just. Just let Jean tag along to whatever you’re doing like a little golden retriever and he’ll be so damn happy. It doesn’t matter what—buying makeup, going on a walk, heading to the grocery store—he just likes spending time with you.

Though he—and anyone who expresses themselves in quality time—completely understands there are moments where you need to be by yourself. But if you don’t mind him being there, then he’ll take the opportunity to be with you.

He looooves to give presents, and even though he can get kind of embarrassed by it and try to play it off as nonchalant, he’s quite thoughtful and romantic with his gifts.

Needs: quality time, physical touch

He loves doing what you’re doing, but he would also love to have you around when he’s chilling or running errands or doing whatever, too. He doesn’t care, Jean just likes talking to you, and will take any opportunity to hear you speak to him and be around him.

He shows a normal amount of physical touch and/or PDA throughout your relationship, but really casual and gentle touches by you mean the world to him. When he feels you stroking his face when you think he’s asleep, wrapping your arms around one of his habitually when you’re sleepy after a night out, putting your hands on his face when you kiss him—all those things mean the world to him.

I don’t know if this would fall into words of affirmation, but he also likes it when you tell him that you find him attractive. Call him handsome once and he’ll be thinking about it for the rest of the month. Tell him he’s pretty and you might even get him to blush.

CONNIE Gives: quality time

Similar to Eren, his quality time is most commonly expressed through a little game he likes to call “how many times can I annoy my girlfriend in the span of twenty minutes.”

You could be chilling like normal, having a casual night in and Connie will just come bursting in your room like the loudest mf on the planet, with Monopoly in his left hand, and a six pack of beers in his right.

He lives for doing stupid (borderline illegal) shit with you, and to his credit, you’ve never gotten caught. He really just likes to hang with you and make you laugh and make memories the both of you won’t ever forget.

Needs: acts of service

Help this man. No, really, literally, help him, even if he says he doesn’t need help, he’ll appreciate it in the end.

From stuff like tutoring him for a class, to packing him lunches (beyond Lunchables, but inclusive of a strawberry-kiwi CapriSun, nonetheless); it’s a love language Connie didn’t even think he would like.

He fucking loves it though and never shuts up about anything you might do for him; always thanks you a million times and puts you in a loving chokehold and pinches your cheeks in appreciation.

SASHA Gives: words of affirmation

She’s really good at comforting you, or even just making you feel good about yourself. Sasha might not even realize how much her positive outlook on you might mean, but she sure does love to tell you how much you mean to her.

Adores singing your praises and rewarding you with compliments all the time. She’s so sweet and she doesn’t even realize what she’s doing. Best girl.

Needs: gifts

Sasha loves presents in all shapes in forms: birthday presents, anniversary presents, planned presents, surprise presents. Doesn’t matter, she’s happy to receive any and all of them.

She looks at the gifts you get her with sparkles in her eyes and the widest grin on her face. It means the world to her that you would get her something she loves and she appreciates it so much.

Takes extra special care of your gifts too. If you got her one of something she collects, the ones you give her have their own little special place in her collection and she loves to show them off whenever people ask about them.

PIECK Gives: acts of service, physical touch

Pieck will do just about anything for you, and if she can’t, she’ll commission someone else to get it done for the both of you. (Someone being Porco and Reiner if this act involves lifting or carrying anything heavy).

She adores the smile on your face after she tells you she’s taken care of something you were putting off or having trouble doing; it makes her whole day to see you happy and relieved to have one less task on your to-do list.

She definitely does things because it makes her happy to see you happy, but there’s a small part of her that’s not above admitting she likes to be rewarded for it, too. Even something as small as a hug will do 😌

That’s also where the physical touch comes in: Pieck is kind of handsy, an almost unexpectedly protective kind of way. It’s equal parts of her liking to show you off and have her hands on you, and making sure nobody else thinks about doing the same.

Needs: quality time

Once she discovers the joy of having someone else to laze around with, take naps with, and do… questionable antics with, Pieck feels like she’s discovered the true meaning of life.

Adores when you ask to come along with her to run errands, or when you show interest in any of her many hobbies. She comes to find that she loves sharing them with you.

Napping together is a must, and if you think she’ll let you out of her hold just because your leg cramped or you have to use the bathroom, then think again. There’s a minimum of three one-hour naps per week with her.

PORCO Gives: acts of service, gifts

Gifts might come as a surprise for him, but he’s got a good memory, so when he sees something you’ve been talking about, he’ll just pick it up/buy it for you.

Could be anything from a new pair of house slippers, to a pair of earrings you showed him once. If he sees it and remembers you wanted it, there’s a 9/10 chance he’ll just get it. You can’t say he never did anything for you.

He approaches acts of service the same way, and usually does things he knows he can handle doing for you, like cleaning your car, cooking you dinner, or giving you a massage.

He can get kinda smug about it tho, going off about how you’re his little baby and that you need him to take care of you, as if he didn’t go out of his way to do these things, unprompted 🙄

Needs: physical touch

He’s not going out of his way to do extreme PDA, but he’s not hiding it either; if he feels like touching you, he will. But the first time you initiate it, or the first time you touch him in a gentle way, he’s such a goner.

He doesn’t even know how to process it at a first, and when he does he feels stupid and embarrassed for even liking it, but he certainly likes it that for damn sure.

He gets kinda cranky if you don’t cuddle up to him or hold his hand or poke his cheek (even though he claims it’s oh so annoying, you know he likesssss it).

[hansolmates]

a hero’s journey (m)

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

prompt used: “I should’ve known.”

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

It’s so easy to ignore the world. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe a little too well. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wow. So that explains everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Understandable.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But honestly? Fuck Jisoo. 

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

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

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

“Sounds good, thanks Joonie.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nevermind, get out of my apartment.” 

“Uh, this is my apartment.” 

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

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

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

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

“Remember Jeon Jungkook? Majored in graphic design.”

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

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

A pause. And then, “Want a beer?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re running away.” 

“Am not.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah.” 

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

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

“You miss her?” 

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

“Did you talk about it?” 

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

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

“And are you trying to get over him?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

“But it works!” 

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

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

“Bumble.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or are you? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? I can pay for my own food—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Am I allowed to state my opinion?” 

“Since you asked so politely, no.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, he’s your fuck buddy then?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Namjoon holds out his hand, “Hand.” 

“No—”

“Hand.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pizza also sounds good—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do I want to know?”

“No.” 

“Do you want me to leave?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m home, Jungkookie!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

vernie bernie: or a tickle to my pickle? 

vernie bernie: beatin ya bean? 

You: ohmyGOD 

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

You: call. Ill come after dinner

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey Pretty Girl–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Only recently,” you frown. 

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

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

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

“Because I wanted to protect you!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you still love him?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey Pretty Girl—

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

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

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

Hopefully yours, Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’cha got there, partner?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey Pretty Boy...

Jungkook and Jisoo are no longer together, evidently. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi: come inside, u loser. 

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

You: dw i’ll wait, it’s only 11:50

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—coming along?” 

“Wha?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mean by what?” 

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

“Well, we’re here now, right?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook,” you whine, “read mine.” 

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

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

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

“I’m on page eighty-three.” 

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

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

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

“Yes ma’am.” 

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

“I wish you did, too.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook…” 

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

“Jungkook—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” 

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

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

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

“Please, baby.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

some time later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then the hotel room?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

“You know I love you, right?” 

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

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

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

“You’re terrible.” 

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

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

[seita]

the contract girlfriend | semi eita (m.)

˒ pairing: semi eita/reader ˒ genre: angst, fluff, smut ˒ wordcount: 𝟺𝟹𝟹𝟷 ˒ tags: friends2lovers, fake dating, musician!eita ˒ cw: dirty talk, loss of virginity, virgin kink if u squint: sweet talking, pet names, mean girl ex, mutual pining, unrequited love(?), angst with a happy ending, UNEDITED

+ note: this is a collab along with the other writers for the kkc! i would also like to thank @bokutobabie​ 𝖿for her help with this plot bc it was kickin’ my ass.

˖˖ summary: when he was an unknown musician, his girlfriend left him. now that he’s made it, he wants to make her jealous at a fancy party so he can get her back.unfortunately, he asks you to be his fake date. the downside? you have a very real crush on him.

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© all content belongs to seita 2020. do not modify or repost.

“I have a proposition,” is never a sentence you want to hear when you sit down to lunch with your best friend. Especially when that friend is Semi Eita. 

“What..?” you ask apprehensively, taking the cup of coffee he’d obviously gotten to bribe you. You took it regardless, not willing to pass up the offer of free coffee.

“Nana is gonna be at the party this weekend,” he muttered, swirling his fingertips around the rim of his cup. You felt your heart drop into the pit of your stomach at his words, “I want you to come and pretend to be my date.”

Just as you’d expected. Not something you wanted to hear.

Nana was Eita’s first love, his first serious relationship, really. They got together when he was fresh out of highschool, the two of them spending almost all of their time together. 

It was when his career as a musician was just beginning, he was playing small gigs and there was nothing really successful. But he was happy. And he thought she was too.

Until she dumped him in favor of a much more famous man. He was a big movie producer and offered her a leading role in an upcoming film. Of course, she took the offer. 

She would much rather be mingling with the rich and famous than be hanging out with “a nobody like him”, as she put it. You remembered the hurt Eita felt, the tears and heartbreak it took almost 3 years for him to get over. 

“Why?” you finally asked with a sigh, “What will that accomplish?”

“Well if she gets jealous, she might want to get back with me,” he grinned impishly, shrugging his shoulders like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You recognized the look in his eyes, one of determination. So you sighed, nodding your head, “Alright, I’ll be your date.”

He beamed, uttering out endless thanks to you as you went on with your lunch until he decided to go back to the studio. He slipped his hat on low, making sure his mask was in place before hugging your goodbye and leaving you sitting alone at the table. 

You sighed, downing the last of your coffee. Your spirits were low; you had no idea what to expect from this party. 

Would she fall for it and run back into his arms now that he had had his big breakthrough and became mainstream? She surely must have known by now; his band was already breaking records, wracking up fans by the thousands, his songs were being played on the radio. 

Maybe now that he was famous enough, she’d actually want to be with him. Not that she deserved him. And he didn’t deserve someone like that, either. He was too good for her, too good to be treated like that. 

You let out another sigh and stood up, grabbing your purse from the back of the chair.

This was going to be painful. You weren’t sure how you would cope with pretending to be his girlfriend all for the sake of him getting back with her. 

Surely your heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

Because as much as you tried to hide it, you were irrevocably in love with your best friend.

The entire getup was supplied to you by Eita; from the jewelry to the dress itself. You felt like a different person. Despite the fact he was your best friend, you hadn’t attended one of the big parties since his band’s breakout single. 

This particular party wasn’t in celebration of his band, but he was invited regardless so naturally he went. He was still enjoying the high life and was getting used to tasting fame. You were glad it hadn’t actually affected his personality. 

“You look nice today,” Tendou complimented with a breezy smile. He was nursing a glass of champagne, which was uncharacteristic to say the least. He had always been more of a whiskey kind of guy.

“Thanks,” you shrugged, “I’m not really a fan of this kind of thing.”

“I know,” he grinned, “You look terribly uncomfortable, that’s why I came over to be such a good pal and keep you company while your darling boyfriend is off galavanting with the people!”

You rolled your eyes, “He’s not my boyfriend, Satori.”

He giggled, taking glee in your embarrassment, “But you wish he was.”

“Are you already drunk?” you raise a brow, making him snicker.

Someone called his name from the crowd and he flashed you a knowing grin, “Eita may be too dim to see it, but the rest of us aren’t!”

You pout and find yourself alone once again. Looking around, you search for your ‘boyfriend’. Suddenly, a heavy arm falls across your shoulders and the familiar scent of his cologne reaches your nose. 

“Hey, babygirl,” he coos, making your heart skip a beat at the pet name. He sounds so fond and you feel yourself smiling before he busts out laughing, shaking his head before letting his arm fall from your shoulders, “That’s just so weird. I dunno if I’ll be able to get through this tonight,” Ouch. “Anyway, Nana just arrived so…” he takes your hand but you can’t bring yourself to smile as you feel the ache in your heart at his words.

If he takes note of your deflated behavior, he doesn’t say anything, merely leading you over to the balcony. You breathe in the fresh air and feel the ache in your chest dull.

“Eita? Is that you?” a perky voice makes you cringe. 

“Nana,” Eita breathes, tugging you against his side as she breaks through the crowd to stand in front of the two of you.

Her smile promptly disappears at the sight of you crowded in Eita’s arms.

“Eita...who’s this?” she asks, a smile returning but you can tell it’s plastic. 

You remembered everything you had gone over with him before the party; the two of you had sat down for a few hours to sort out your story and rules. It had felt like you were making a binding contract with him when you told him no kissing on the lips. It was your only stipulation and you swore you saw a brief downward tug of his lips when you told him before he beamed and readily agreed. 

Maybe you were imagining that disappointment in his eyes too. 

“This is my girlfriend, _____,” Eita introduced, giving your arm an affectionate squeeze.

“Oh,” she gave you a strained smile and held out her hand for you to shake. When you slipped your hand into hers, she gave it a tense squeeze that made you flinch, “I’m Nana, Eita’s ex.”

“I’ve uh…” you cleared your throat and pulled your hand away, “I’ve heard stories about you.”

“All good I’m sure,” she replied flippantly before setting her sights on him once more, “We should totally catch up, you know? Reminisce about the good old times~”

The sultry, flirtatious undertone made your skin crawl. Even if you weren’t really dating, she thought you were and for her to not respect that made you angry. But still, Eita pulled away and placed a kiss against your temple that set your heart ablaze.

“Sure, why not?” he grinned and gave your hand a squeeze, “You go have some fun, sweetheart. I’ll catch up with you later.”

You gave him a hollow wave as he quickly vanished into the crowd without a second glance your way. You knew this was the end goal but still, to see him walking away hurt. A sense of rejection was seeded within you and you felt your spirits slowly being crushed. 

It took all your power to continue on with the party until it felt acceptable to leave. Throughout the party, you kept getting glances of the two of them. 

Eita wore a serene smile, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her. Whenever she looked at him with a flirtatious smile and a subtle caress, you felt jealousy pool in the core of your stomach. You wanted to march over there and scream “he’s mine!”. But you couldn’t, because he wasn’t really yours. 

He was only pretending to be yours so he could have her. 

Your phone vibrated as you downed your final glass of wine, making you look at the screen with a frown.

“I’m heading to Nana’s apartment for the night! See if Satori can give you a ride home, thanks for the help!!”

Your jaw ached from how hard you were forcing yourself to keep from crying. When you tried to find the elusive redhead, you found he was drunk and dancing with two girls so you decided to leave him be and simply call an Uber. 

For just a short time, you had simply been a contract girlfriend for him to use. Though you knew it was fake, it still felt so nice to be called his. 

So you went home, removing your expensive clothing like Cinderella after the ball and decided to relax on the couch. It was only a little past midnight when you got out of the shower, turning on the TV to watch whatever late night nonsense was playing. 

Eita thought that being with Nana again would be everything he wanted. But as he laid beside her, her head resting on his naked chest, strangely all he could think of was you. 

When he asked you to pretend to be his date, he hadn’t thought of the possibility of how it would really feel. Sure, he had touched you before, naturally. Sometimes he hugged you and held your hand. But that night, when he placed the kiss against your head, the way your eyes lit up in response had his heart stuttering when he thought back to it. 

Truth be told, when you told him he couldn’t kiss you he felt so...disappointed. He had thought of assigning the same rule but decided against it at the last moment, secretly thinking about how nice it may feel to kiss you. 

He had quickly dashed that though because of how wrong it was to think of you like that. 

Yet there he was, thinking of you with his ex girlfriend back in his arms again.

“Eita?” Nana asked, lifting her head to look drowsily at him, “Are you okay?”

“Um...yeah,” he clears his throat, “I should probably get going.”

“Why?” she whines, “Don’t worry about her.”

“Huh? Who?” he asks, confused.

She giggles and clings to his arm, “Your girlfriend! She doesn’t have to know!”

His heart ached at those words -- true, you weren’t really dating but he felt like he had done something wrong. And for some reason Nana’s blatant disregard that he had cheated with her made him nauseous.

“I...I just want to see if she made it home safely,” he gave her a tight lipped smile and picked up his phone. 

She rested against the pillow, head propped up on her hand as she watched him dial you. When you didn’t answer, he gave a frustrated sigh and dialed Satori instead. 

It rang a few times before the slurred voice of his best friend answered, “H-Hey man, what’s up?”

“Satori, did you drop _____ off okay?” Eita asked.

The redhead made a confused sound over the line, “What’re you talkin’ about? She never asked me to take her anywhere.”

“What?” Eita frowned, “Did you see her leave the party?”

“Gotta tell ya, man, I wasn’t watchin’ her,” Tendou replied, a feminine giggle in the background making Eita frown, “Wasn’t that supposed to be your job?”

Eita sighed, shaking his head, “Alright, dude, just...let me know if you hear from her.”

“Hah? Why would she call me?” Satori chuckled, “Why don’t you just check on her? Better safe than sorry...I mean, she’s a cute girl, you never know what kinda scoundrels were eyeing her in that pretty little dress tonight. If i was a less honorable friend, she would be the one in my bed right now!”

Eita scoffed and hung up as his friend started cackling gleefully over the line. Eita stood up, shaking off Nana’s grabby hands as he slipped his jeans back on.

“You’re not going back to her, are you?” she pouted.

Eita sighed, “I gotta check on her. No one knows where she went off to.”

“She’s a big girl, c’mon Eita~” she purred, letting the sheet fall from her bare body as she crawled towards him.

He shook his head and threw his shirt on, grabbing his keys off of her dresser before moving to the door, “I gotta see her.”

He ignored her obnoxious whining as he bolted out the door. Any sleepiness that was in his system had evaporated at the worry he felt over you. 

The drive to your apartment was quick enough, it went by in a blur. He took two steps at a time up to your place on the 3r floor, not patient enough to wait for the elevator. 

The knock on your door made you jump. Throwing the pillow you held in your lap aside, you checked through the peephole to see a familiar head of sandy blonde hair. 

Pulling the door opened, you looked at him with wide eyes, “Eita? Aren’t you supposed to be with--”

“I couldn’t get a hold of you,” he breathed, stepping past you to enter your living room.

“And?” you laughed, shrugging your shoulders.

“I got worried! Why didn’t you go home with Satori?” he sighed, sitting on your couch with a huff.

You chuckled again, though it was humorless, “He looked like he was having fun, I didn’t want to impose.”

He sighs and relaxes against the couch. As you sit next to him, for a second things feel normal. 

You almost feel okay, as if you could forget about everything happening. It’s so easy to forget your crush on your best friend and the fact he wanted to be with another woman. 

It was easy to forget it all until it came rushing back into your face in the form of Nana. 

You and Eita were having a lunch date, as was normal for the two of you. Unfortunately, amid his retelling of a story you had heard a million times over, she showed up with an obnoxious screech of his name.

“Eita!” she squealed and rushed over to him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. 

You let out a soft sigh, your eyes falling to your half-finished plate.

“Nana…” he greeted, eyes wide in shock, “H-How did you find me? What’re you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you, silly!” she chirped, taking a seat in his lap in a way that was far too comfortable. Suddenly, her gaze shifted to you and the smile vanished off of her face, “Oh, you’re here.”

“Nana…” Eita sighed but didn’t make any move to get off of him.

“What? I thought you were going to break up with her?” she whined loudly, making your cheeks burn as people looked over at the two of you, “You said you were going to dump her!”

“I--” Eita started.

“You should go,” Nana grinned at you, shrugging her shoulders as she hugged Eita closer to her, “Seriously, he’s mine now. He was fucking me at that party instead of you.”

Although nothing about your relationship that night was real, the humiliation you felt at that very moment was. She was smug that she had gotten your boyfriend to cheat on you and was making a spectacle of her victory. 

Biting your lip, you reached behind you to grab your purse, “I-I’ll see you later, Eita.”

“______ wait!” he called but you were already rushing towards the entrance. 

You had no idea that he was hot on your heels until you reached your apartment. You went to close it only for the foot to intercept it. Looking over your shoulder, you found Eita panting before he was pushing the door open completely.

“_____ I--” he paused, “Why are you crying?”

“I am?” you wiped under your eyes and frowned when you felt the moisture there, promptly wiping it away, “Sh-She completely made a fool of me, Eita. I don’t know what you ever saw in her and I don’t know why I helped you get back with her.”

“I know, look…” he ran a hand through his already messed up hair, “I feel the same, alright? I’m sorry I pulled you into all this, _____, I really am. Alright, I told her to get lost.”

You sighed and took a seat on your couch, “She only wanted you back because you’re famous now. You know that right?”

He chuckled and sat down, nodding his head, “I guess I was just...hoping for something I guess.”

“What?” you asked.

He shrugged, “I don’t really remember anymore,” he confessed. 

“Well,” you didn’t quite know what to say, simply leaning back on the couch to appear relaxed, “I always wondered why you didn’t date after her anyway.”

He shrugged once more. How was he meant to say that he didn’t want anyone impeding on his time with you? 

“I guess...no one really came along, you know?”

You nodded, “I guess it’s the same for me.”

He snorted, “You’ve never even dated anyone before.”

“You don’t have to bring that up!” you whined, playfully shoving his shoulder.

He laughed, melodic and pretty, “I think it’s cute. What’s your story then?”

“Eita, we’ve been friends since high school, you know everything about me,” you smiled, feeling your cheeks warm at the soft look he was giving you.

“Yeah but…” he bit his lip, fingers inching closer towards you, “You’re...pretty and sweet. There’s plenty of good looking guys around me that have tried flirting with you before. Hell, Satori even said he was into you.”

You smiled and shook your head, “No, none of them are right…”

“Who is right then?” he asked, unable to hide the hopefulness in his voice.

“Eita…” the smile falls from your lips, your heart hammering in your chest as he moved closer towards you, “I…”

“Hm?” he hummed, his nose brushing against yours, breath fanning over your lips.

“I...I won’t regret this, will I?” you asked. 

His breathing stuttered against your skin and he shook his head, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, “You won’t.”

After those words left his mouth, he brought your lips to his in a sweet kiss that was perfect for a first. You could tell he was experienced, knowing exactly how to move. 

There was something sweet lingering on his tongue that you found utterly addictive. 

You wish you could find it strange or even scary to wind up in bed with your best friend. The fact your entire relationship was going to be changing should have concerned you but all you felt was anticipation. 

He hovered over your body, the two of you stripping your clothes with unhurried ease. His body was firm from working out, a habit he never let go of from his time as a volleyball player. 

His hands were calloused and warm as they touched your body, caressing your breasts in a way no one ever had. The feeling of him thumbing over your nipples had your back arching in arousal, your panties becoming soaked embarrassingly fast. 

He was hard and throbbing in his jeans, the constricting material almost painful but all he really cared about in that moment was seeing all of you. 

Hooking his thumbs into the band of your panties, he pulled the material down. He cursed under his breath at the strings of slick that attached to the fabric. 

“You’re so wet,” he breathed, licking his lips as he tossed your panties over his shoulder to be lost somewhere in your room. 

“Sh-Shut up, don’t tease me…” you mumble, feeling embarrassed by your body’s own reaction to him.

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss against your knee, “I’m not, baby. It’s sweet...I love knowing you react so honestly to me.”

“Eita…” you whined, reaching up to cover your face as he spread your legs.

“Hmm?” he bites his lip, sliding two fingers between your folds to spread them apart. 

Your hole clenched around nothing, drooling more slick for him to gather on his fingertips. He used it to rub smooth circles around your clit, the sweet moan that fell from your lips at the pleasure he so easily gave you. 

“I’ll get you nice and prepped, baby,” he cooed, the nickname making your heart soar. 

You were so wet, making it easy for him to slide two thick fingers into your pretty cunt. You clamped down tight around the digits, making his cock throb at the mere thought of what that would feel like around his hard cock. 

Twisting his wrist, he crooked his fingers up to hit your sweet spot, his thumb coming up to circle around your clit. The inexperience of your body made it so easy for him to bring you to the edge. 

You had never felt this, no one had ever touched you so intimately so your body was more reactive than ever. 

Reaching down, you wrapped your hand around his wrist, meeting his gaze with wide eyes. He smiled, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You cumming?” he asked, though he could very easily feel your walls spasming around him. 

Still, you nodded, mouth falling open but no sound escaping, “E-Eita…”

“C’mon, baby,” he groaned, fasting his pace to fuck your dripping cunt. The sounds were wet, lewd and if you were with anyone else you would have been completely ashamed. But it was Eita, the person you trusted the most in the world. He groaned as your body began to quake, “Let it go, pretty girl. Cum for me, that’s it.”

At his encouragement, you released with a shrill whine of his name. He eagerly fucked your gushing cunt through the high, only slowing when your back met the bed again. 

Pulling his fingers from your hole, he was mindful of your sensitivity. He still couldn’t resist placing a fleeting kiss against your throbbing clit before sitting up to meet you for another heated kiss. 

Your body was still trembling as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your thighs spread open around his waist. His clothed cock hovered above your sensitive core and he made sure the rough material of his jeans didn’t make contact.

“Please, Eita, c-can we…?” you asked, biting your lip, too embarrassed to utter the words.

He smiled and nodded, brushing some hair behind your ear before sitting up to discard the remaining clothing on his person. His skin was pretty, tanned and built. His cock reached his navel, dripping precum down the length which he used to easily slick his cock up with his fist. 

The sight of your best friend jerking himself off over your naked, trembling body felt beyond taboo. But it only made you more eager to have him. 

“Please, Eita...I want you,” you breathed. 

He flashed you a smile and sat up on his knees, sliding the dripping tip between your folds. Brushing past your clit, you whined at the sensitivity. 

“It might hurt a bit, pretty baby,” he whispered, positioning himself at your entrance. 

You had already guessed it. He was big just by looking at him. But nothing compared to when he began to sink into you -- that’s when his size really became apparent. 

“Ah, Eita!” you whined, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He hissed but didn’t stop you, eyes falling to where his cock was steadily stretching you open. When he got halfway in, he pulled back until the head remained within your clasping walls. With an experienced roll of his hips, he pushed his cock back in, this time easily bottoming out. 

“Fuck!” you squealed, back arching. 

He could feel you gushing, dripping down his balls. There wasn’t a single sign of pain in your features so he quickly began to move, the both of you riled up and eager to have each other completely. 

Everything felt so right, so sweet. Having him in your arms made you feel so happy. 

“You’re mine now, baby,” he groaned, burying his face in your neck, “All mine. N-No more, fuck, of this friend shit...I love you.”

“Eita,” you whined, tears pricking your eyes as you hugged him tightly against you, “I love you too. P-Please make me cum.”

“Fuck, I’ll get you there, baby,” he promised, reaching between your bodies to find your clit. Your walls immediately clamped tight around him as he played with your little bud, “C’mon. Cum for me. I wanna feel you cream, pretty baby. Can you do that for me? Show me how good this cock makes you cum.”

His filthy words, whispered in his sweet, deep voice were enough to throw you over the edge. As you squeezed around him, trembling and gushing through the amazing orgasm, he spilled within you. A soft whimper of your name fell from his lips as his balls throbbed, cock spitting out load after load until you were so filled, it dripped from your cunt. 

Finally, the both of you stilled. He leaned back to look in your eyes, tucking some damp hair behind your ear before pecking your lips. 

“I meant it, you really are mine now,” he said.

You nodded, “You’re all mine too.”

“Well,” he gave you a teasing grin, “You have to share me with my millions of adoring fans.”

“Don’t be so full of yourself,” you giggled, biting your lip as he pulled out, “You have thousands at most.”

“Oh, way to bruise a guy’s ego,” he laughed.

You were grateful to have him, everything with him was so easy. Everything between you was fine, perfect even. And you didn’t have to worry about ever losing him to another girl again.

[ddarker-dreams]

FINALLY SOMEONE SAID THE TRUTH.

I admit that i enjoyed act 3 but it feels like really rushed i have so much complain with that.

The build up until act 2 was so good it give us so much premise but the final blow si meh. Sorry that i want to share thing long rant with you

1. Why the final talk is with yae, no offense to her but we need ei to explain not to mention she witness khaenriah downfall so she can give us more information, i feel like they do it for the plot armor so they can just keep dragging this

2. So many things that quite inconsistant, the shogun is show no mercy to anyone that even did a little thing outside what she think its right, how come she can still have a talk with signora, when sara is falling like that, and also there is no clarification about sara right now.

The traveler was so done at first they refuse to help thoma and ayaka at the beginning. But they seem so happy and forget everything how come they are not RAGE ( okay maybe this is to bias and personal) when this nation provide nothing about our siblings information and also why they are not mention anything about their problem in ei stroy quest. Its nonsense! She is right in front of youu, ask about your siblings, ask about khaenriah, ask about ukmown god!!. How come they can just forget like that. Also mihoyo really waste the potential about twin things i thing ei will give us so much help bcs of the sympathy that we both rn lost our twin but noooo.

3. Kokomi seem lost some brain cell, she make a very succesfull grand intro but she become meh in act 3, how come a great strategist like her let the sus sponsorship slip just bcs they are desperate, not to mention her screen time is really small and her role seem so unsignificant and it feels lile she is a plain npc.

4. The awesome world quest that we have done doesnt get any mention at all! Inazuma owe us so much with cleansing sakura, thunder sakura, tatarigami, obarashi quest. It has so much potential that yae or ei or anyone else aknowledge what traveler has been done but nooo.

cracks knuckles... i suppose it's time for my promised dissertation. interestingly enough, you touched on a lot of the main issues i had with chapter III.

i think that if i had to pin the main issue, it's a lack of overall cohesiveness? we were jumping all over the place without the chance to ever flesh things out. inazuma is a smaller cast, but i feel like we didn't get to see any of them shine. since i'm most interested in the genshin characters, i'll break down my problems by going over everyone and their (lack) of impact on the story.

was ayaka not questioned or placed under suspicion for being close to thoma before his escape? i wanted to see her broken up over her duties as they relate to the yashiro commission, paired with having someone she genuinely cares about in danger. it would've been an interesting struggle if she was forced to choose one or the other. instead she just kinda took a back seat.

speaking of thoma, i don't even have anything to say, because he just... was there? for .0001 seconds. said "lol this sucks ig" and that's about it. i know we're going to get a story for him in the future since he's a 5* but i'm not getting my hopes up 😭 then in the raiden shogun's character story, man is peachy keen! be upset with the raiden shogun! have some inner conflict! even if it's just using loaded language because he's under surveillance for going against the raiden shogun, that'd be so cool. saying something like,

"Traveler, what's with that expression? Oh please, there's nothing to worry about. We're under the Statue of the Omnipresent God's protection. Nothing bad has ever happened here." *wink*

i also don't know what to say about gorou. he was... there....... i think. what is he fighting for? what are the stakes for him? what makes him place so much trust into kokomi? i'm out of things to say about him because i don't remember anything he did or said.

kokomi... oh kokomi... i was so hyped. so excited. i thought that maybe we could see a foil to the raiden shogun. that she'd have a moment where she's forced to realize, just like her opponent, sacrifices must be made that will hurt people who will never understand why she made them. or maybe something to show her military prowess. but instead she just accepts a mysterious patron's help (?), sees her people aging like the grateful dead from JJBA, and goes oh well. that sucks. what can ya do. oh bye traveler i guess, good luck with that. ????????????? HUH... similar case to thoma where she's gonna get a character story but like. she won't be the leader of the resistance anymore. that was her whole shtick. they took her shtick away. also she forced me to interact with more NPCs whose names i've already forgotten so i'm tilted about that still.

KUJOU SARA... AN INJUSTICE. A DISGRACE. a slap to my woman loving face. the build up was there. yae miko's comments about sara probably knowing the tenryou commission is involved in shady dealings, but is choosing not to think about it. sara being forced to confront reality and challenge her adopted father with the truth. being able to blaze a new path for herself in the process. when she started running to the raiden shogun i was ultra hyped up. sara, a devotee to the shogun for so long, was about to see her god interacting with the same people who led inazuma to this awful state. how would she react? would she stay ignorant, like yae miko so coyly said, choosing to look away in favor of following her god's footsteps? or would she be forced to recognize the raiden shogun isn't as divine as she once thought, and challenge her belief system?

we open the door to see the raiden shogun. the loading screen ensues. the camera pans to the ominous room, clouded in darkness, hinting at the ominous confrontation that is to come. the music takes a serious timbre. and then...

well fuck that potential character arc i guess. (we still don't know what sara made of any of this since she poofed out of existence from the story at this point)

kazuha also was handed a similar treatment. we've been with him for a while longer now. he is our introduction into inazuma, the one who first gets us emotionally involved by regaling us with the bittersweet tale of friendship that led him to becoming a wanted criminal. a kind soul who loves nature yet was dealt a cruel hand by fate, forced to watch his home nation turn into a hostile place, where his dear friend ultimately perished as a result. we get the scene with his friend's vision lighting back up. he parries a block from the raiden shogun, in the same area where his friend was killed by her. the parallels. the drama. except this time, he wasn't too late. he protected the traveler where he "failed" to protect his friend in the past. did he feel redemption at this? or was it a bittersweet reminder of what could've been?

WELL i guess we'll never know because we didn't get to talk to him again 😭 idk who got a bait and switch worse, him or sara. jesus christ mihoyo.

then we have signora. why is the raiden shogun talking to her? does she know about the gnosis being taken, and if she doesn't, what was her plan to get it from the archon? what does she think about scaramouche? and oh, okay, we're fighting here now. good fight + god tier music. pog pog. okay, now we've beaten her up, and raiden shogun wyd— wait no not signora her lore is still on CUPS not YET raiden shogun and— ah she's dead. okay. non nerds who didn't read artifact lore are going to know nothing about her. signora has such an interesting story, and yet... well. ok.

then we get raiden shogun redemption (?) arc. i was hype for this as well, though at that point, idk why i bothered being hype. i knew they were gonna do a cute power of friendship something or another, and i'm good with that, so long as it's executed well. what i was envisioning was like seven different buffs to correspond with the seven different visions, the dreams of those whose ambitions were stolen serving as the spear to penetrate the raiden shogun's heart of stone. maybe a hydro vision giving us extra healing for a time, with the voice acting over it being like,

"Even if the rest of the world forgets us, let our will carry you through this one final time. Succeed where we couldn't, Traveler."

so on and so forth.

but instead we got— you get the idea at this point. why bother spelling it out anymore.

at that point i was surprised the raiden shogun didn't go "oopsie woopsie!! we made a fucky wucky!!!" because that was the vibe i was getting. i love ei, don't get me wrong, but i wanted to see her challenged with what she had done to inazuma in the past year. maybe meeting NPC #2345259 who lost her sister to the vision decree or something, reminding ei of the love she held for her sister... being forced to come to terms with the extent of what she's done in pursuit of eternity.

anyway. please for the love of god mihoyo hire better writers for the main story. that is all i ask. thank you.

[itsallyscorner]

This could be a request or not depending on how much time you have 😅 but for your information, yes, I am thinking Tom giving y/n hickies on her neck like the night before a bunch of interviews the next day and she's like, "Are you serious?" and he's like "I couldn't resist, I just love you so much!" and when y/n shows up the next day wearing a turtleneck after she told Zendaya that she would be wearing a dress Z immediately gets suspicious and figures it out bc I feel like she's like that 😅😂

Hehehe I haven’t written anything smutty lately and I miss it. So thank you for requesting this anon, much love to you🥰 Ugh, the thought of this gave me butterflies in my stomach😭 Happy reading!❤️

Also, little note for everyone who’s sending me requests! Yes, I see all of them! Part of the reason why I haven’t done some of them yet is because I have to think of concepts on how to execute them properly. So bear with me, love you all🥰

💌.

Love Bug

My soft boi🥺

Warnings: implied smut

(Gif from Pinterest)

The AC in your bedroom was just not doing you justice. The Californian heat was at an all time high today and has transformed you home into an Easy Bake oven. Though you were probably exaggerating, your thin crewneck sweater still clung onto your skin, making you uncomfortable. Peeling the sweater off your body, you toss it into your laundry basket. You’re left in a tank top and some lounging shorts as you sprawl yourself out on your bed. The coolness of the comforter bringing your body some relief from the heat.

Sinking into the sheets, the hustle and bustle of the day finally hits you. You’ve had a long day of press with your cast mates, promoting the movie you were all in, Spider-Man: Far From Home. You loved your job, but the press tours could just be so tiring. You were forced to wake up early in the morning and sit in a room for how many hours of the day to only be asked the same questions (most of the time). Though press tours did have its pros, meeting fans around the world and traveling to new countries was something you always looked forward to.

Marvel being Marvel, they always had to make it big. For the last few weeks you have all been traveling around the world, tired but nonetheless having an amazing time. Thankfully, this was the last stop of the press tour, California. You were back in your own bed and your boyfriend was staying with you for the time being.

You were on your phone, going through Instagram and looking at various photos that were taken today during today’s press engagements. You’ve even made your own contribution and posted your own batch of selfies and funny videos.

The door to the connected bathroom in your room opens and reveals your boyfriend. Your eyes break their focus on your phone and shift to the man in front of you. You smile and turn your phone off giving him all your attention. A smile forms on his own lips as he crawls up the bed to join you.

“Missed you all day.” He whispers against your skin, placing his head on your chest. His arms are wrapped around your figure, one leg hooked over yours. You move the hood of his sweatshirt from over his head and began to run your hands through his hair.

“Mmm, I missed you too.” He cuddles closer to your chest, arms tightening around you. His eyes momentarily shut, basking in your soothing motions.

“How was your day with Jake?” You ask him. As much as Tom wanted to do press with you, he was stuck doing them with Jake, while you did your interviews with Z and Jacob. Tom enjoyed having his interviews with Jake, but he missed being near you, even if you were just a room away.

Tom shifts so his lips are near the skin of your exposed neck. He hums against you before his lips come into contact with the soft surface. He had been tempted to mark you up all day. You wore a beautiful spring dress with a low neckline that displayed the skin of your neck. All he wanted to do was scatter red and purple love bites all over you, letting the world know you were his.

You gasp as he nips on the space between your neck and shoulder. “Interviews were good, but I just couldn’t get you out my head.” He slots himself between your legs and presses you down into the mattress.

“Teasing me with the pretty little dress of yours. Just wanted to kiss you and mark you up.” He says huskily against your neck. His breath sent shivers down your spine as goosebumps formed on your skin. His mouth sucks harder on the spot, teeth nipping gently, while his tongue soothed the bruising spot. He moved up so one of his hands are holding him up beside your head while his other strokes your side.

“Baby, we have an early morning tomorrow.” You didn’t want him to stop, but it was currently 2am and you were both expected to be awake by 6am.

His lips have made their way to the other side of you neck, pressing light kisses that turned to open mouthed ones. You giggle gently pulling him away from your neck so you can look him in the eyes.

“Babyyy.” He whines trying to shove his head back into the spot. A pout is on his lips, which were now a darker shade of pink from how much he was sucking on your skin.

“Tom, we need to be up at six.” You reminded him. Tom leans closer a boyish grin now on his expression. You couldn’t help but kiss him back when his lips captured yours. You feel him smirk against you as he pulls away.

The hand on your side moves to cradle the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. “We’ll be quick, I just wanna feel you. Please?”

You stare at him for a moment as his hand drifts down your body and by your shorts. Excitement swirls in your belly as his fingers get closer to your growing heat. He kisses your cheek as his hand slips past the band of your shorts to cup your mound. The wetness brings a smirk to his face as his dark eyes gaze into yours.

“Baby, look how wet you are.” He praises you as he moves your panties aside and dips his fingers into your wetness. You sigh, eyes slightly rolling back as his fingers spread your wetness on your folds.

“Fine, but—“ You bring your finger to point again him, “No marks on my neck, I’m wearing a dress tomorrow with a low cut again.”

Tom nods connecting your lips again, “Don’t worry, don’t worry, I’ll be careful.” He assures you before diving his head back into your neck.

~next morning~

You enter the bathroom, tying your hair up to keep it away from your face. You turn the shower on and wait for the water to warm up. While you wait you take a look at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes widen when you get a glimpse of you neck. You gasp out loud as you see the sides of your neck with red bruises with hints of purple on them. You had them on both sides of your neck and a small one almost on the center of your throat.

“TOM!” You yell, your voice echoing in the bathroom. There was some rustling behind the door before it was yanked open. Tom entered in nothing but his boxers looking disheveled, hair pointing in all types of direction and his eyes barely open.

“What happened?” His voice was raspy, something that usually made you swoon but right now you couldn’t even focus on it.

You turn to him, aggressively pointing to your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful!” You mock him, repeating what he said to you last night before he railed you into the mattress.

Tom’s eyes widen as well before he cringed. To be fair, you did warn him. He just didn’t know how to hold back when it came to you. He cautiously approaches you a sheepish grin on his face.

“I know it looks bad..” he begins. You shoot him a look, “Are you serious right now? Tom it looks like an octopus strangled me!”

Tom moves back to look at you, “Well you weren’t complaining last night.” You shoot him another look and he nods knowing you were annoyed with him at the moment. He stands behind you looking at the mirror you were both in front of. His arms wrap around your torso as he tries to soften you up.

“I’m sorry, I just love you so much and I couldn’t resist it. I love making love to you and I just get so lost in it and I know you warned me too, I’m sorry.” He apologizes hugging you from behind. You could tell he actually felt bad by the genuine look in his eyes. You sigh leaning back into him and resting your hands above his, interlocking your fingers.

“I forgive you, it happens.” You mumble, head trying to come up with ways to cover up your neck. “How do I even cover this up?”

Tom looks at your neck through the mirror, “Makeup will work right? Just put on some concealer or that color corrector thing you use.”

You nod at his suggestion. “That’ll work for a few hours, but makeup wears off. What if I accidentally wipe it off?”

Tom pursed his lips together in thought, “You could ask Laura to bring you something with a turtleneck.”

“It’ll barely move and your neck will be covered the entire time.” He suggests.

“Yeah, it’ll probably work. I just hope she hasn’t left yet, I should text her.” You move from Tom’s hold and turn the shower off. Before you leave the bathroom, Tom pulls you into a hug again. His face nuzzles against your hair, “I’m sorry, again.”

You smile and stroke his back, “I told you I forgive you, it’s ok love.” You pull away and peck his lips. Tom smiles and leans down to kiss your shoulder. Something he always did when you guys were having a moment. Instantly, you jump back and push him off, “Get your fucking lips away from my neck. I don’t need anymore hickies right now.”

~later~

Your stylist, Laura, ended up bringing you a stunning white dress that stopped above your knees. It was short sleeved, hugged your curves perfectly, and had a turtleneck that covered your neck. She gave you a pair of leather knee high boots which pulled the look together. Your hair was curled, pulled back into a half up and down style while short strands of hair framed your face. Compared to the panic you felt when your first saw the hickies, you were relieved when you saw yourself in the mirror again an hour later. You felt like a modern Go Go Girl as you admired your outfit.

You arrived at the hotel where all the interviews were being held. You make your rounds of greeting everyone, saving Z and Jacob last since you’ll be with them the whole day. You enter the room and see the two of them already sitting in front of the cameras. Jacob spots you first, “Aye! Good morning!”

You smile and walk up to them, giving them both hugs. When you pull away from Z she gives you a look. Her eyes scan you from head to toe, squinting at your dress.

“Weren’t you just complaining that yesterday was too hot? Why are you in a turtleneck?” She interrogates you. You smile nervously at her while you settle in the seat on the other side of Jacob.

“Um, you know, it’s a bit chilly today.” You lie. Jacob eyes you as well catching on Z’s point.

“(Y/n), it’s 95 degrees outside.” He tells you eyes panning around the room. Zendaya smirks leaning forward to get a better look at you, “I think someone was busy last night.”

“No, I wasn’t. I had a very nice sleep, thank you very much.” You sweetly smile at her crossing your arms.

Jacob snickers beside you, “I bet you did.”

“I guess Thomas couldn’t keep his hands off you last night.” She teased, exposing you.

“Or his mouth.” Jacob quickly adds smirking. Your cheeks get flustered squeezing your eyes shut. Jacob and Z burst out laughing at Jacob’s comment.

“I don’t even have a come back, blame Tom.” You throw your hands up in the air giving up. Z calms down and leans over Jacob to rest a hand on your knee.

“Hey, it’s ok, man. If I were Tom, I wouldn’t keep my hands off you either.” She tells you jokingly, helping you get over the embarrassment of wearing a turtleneck. You catch on and wink at her, “Aye, say less.” Your hand resting on top of hers.

Jacob puts his hands up looking shocked, “What did I just walk into? I—I gotta go.” He pretends to shove your hands away and gets up from his seat.

“I’m telling Tom about the sexual tension I felt in this room.” He yells over his shoulder as he walks out the room. You and Z look at each other amused, “Is he actually?”

Z shrugged, “Honestly, he’s probably getting some water. He was thirsty.”

The two of you catch up with each other. Talking about the press tour and what you were both planning on wearing for the premiere. You were in the middle of describing your dress when Tom bursts into the room with Jacob trailing behind him.

“STAY AWAY FROM MY WOMAN.”

[bukojuiice]

What happens when the bakusquad babysits Katsuki’s daughter? (Dad! Katsuki Bakugo x Mom! Reader) Headcanons + One-shot

ೃ pairing: (dad! katsuki bakugo x mom! reader)

ೃ  warnings: none

ೃ genre: fluff overload, parent fic/hcs

ೃ word count: 5,141 words

ೃ 1/4 of @bukojuiice’s 800 followers special!

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist  → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau

ೃ   A  sequel in the form of headcanons + one-shot to my dad! Bakugo fic “like the soul of honey” I recommend reading that first before going through this! Don’t worry if you don’t want to though! Both are standalone and not really connected with each other. 

ೃ   This was originally just going to be headcanons, but I didn’t want to keep writing it in hcs style halfway through so be treated to both headcanons + a one-shot instead! as you can tell already, this was so so much fun to write and i felt so soft after writing this uwu

ೃ  shoutout to two of my loves @sparkykatsuki for coming up with this idea!  I just knew i had to do it bc i love bakusquad sm!! they give me such a serotonin boost and I find it really fun writing about them!! Thank you for having such big brain energy and for conspiring this concept franz!  And to @chibishae34​ bc i know she loves baby fics as much as I do HSHSHSH

ೃ   your daughter’s name is hikari which means light. bakugo thought of that name because light is essentially a part of his quirk and hikari is a part of him.

ೃ  please do reblog if you enjoyed!! (feel free to add tags too because i love reading them and my heart swells with happiness when people love my work!) ♡

—  Hikari is blessed with the best uncles and aunts she could ever ask for!!

—  Both Bakusquad and Dekusquad take turns in helping you and Katsuki get your well deserved rest and relaxation at least once a month ever since Hikari turned 6 as... she became quite the feisty girl. Too feisty to handle actually.

—  She was energetic and playful 24/7. And so, it was hard to keep up with her energy most of the time.

—  She still remained kind and obedient yet she was also an absolute bundle of joy who would just run around the house, play with her toys, and go on roleplaying adventures with you and Katsuki. She had absolutely no idea how much she would tire you and Katsuki, however, and sometimes she would go on for hours and hours just running around the house and interacting with everything she sees.

—  She had an inquisitive mind, and although you always encourage her to be smart and be intrigued with everything, she tends to question almost everything she lays her eyes on and you end up having to come up with a witty and a very childlike answer for her to understand.

—  A good example of this is when she asked you ever so innocently about where babies come from and your husband was ABOUT TO TAKE HER QUESTION LITERALLY and give her the science talk about sexual reproduction. When the two of you agreed to only give her that talk when she turns 8 as she might not even entirely understand it in the first place.

—  “Mommy, Daddy, where do babies come from?”

—  “I guess it’s time for the talk.” Bakugo shrugs, remarking sternly. He takes his daughter’s little hand in his and bringing her to the living room. “You see, Hikari, babies come from the wo-”

—  “Storks!” You cut Bakugo off before he could say another word, nudging him on the elbow. “Hikari-chan, the babies are brought down to this world by the white and strong birds in the sky!” You whisper the last bits of information to her ear. “The storks told me that once you get older, they’ll tell you the secret of where they actually pick up the babies.”

—  “Really!?” She says in disbelief, her eyes gleaming in excitement. “YAY! YAY! YAY! I can’t wait!” She goes back to running around the house looking for even more things to ask about and you breathe a sigh of relief as soon as she leaves.

—  Although it was nice that you are able to bond as a family, it does get pretty tiring sometimes. Of course your weariness is worth the risk if it’s just to see Hikari smile.

— Especially since you and Bakugo were both pro-heroes (although you mostly do stand by pro hero work meaning you work from home almost all the time.) You found it much more enriching if both you and bakugo are guiding her and working together to create a loving and supportive family for Hikari.

— Both of your respective friend groups, whomst you remained close to ever since high school, noticed how the both of you looked tremendously exhausted and looked like you were in dire need to have 9 cups of coffee every time you would meet up with each other in between your pro hero duties.

—  And so both squads came into an agreement, that they would help the two of you out by giving you a 48 hour day off every month to do whatever the heck married couples do as they would babysit Hikari and have fun.

—  This was also a great way to get closer with their niece even if they dote on her so much already.  As you and Bakugo are the first persons in your friend groups who got married and have a child together.

—  This month, the Bakusquad is in charge of taking care of Hikari and just from the fact that Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina and Sero are going to babysit your daughter alone, you know it’s going to be chaotic.

—  Things didn’t go swimmingly last time (literally), as only Kirisihima and Kaminari were the only ones available the last time they came to babysit. They took Hikari to a community pool, and she came back with a missing tooth and some scratches on her legs from playing too much. Katsuki was NOT pleased and you had to restrain your husband from trying to obliterate his best friends even if Hikari had little to no injuries and it was normal for kids her age to have these things happens to them at least once in their childhood.

—  With your assurance and the look that was on Hikari’s face and how she would not shut up about how she loved spending time with Uncle Eijiro and Uncle Denki, Katsuki eventually let it slide and just gave his friends the usual “Katsuki Bakugo treatment” where he acts cold and angry at them, paired with his easily irritated and idgaf attitude.

—  This month however, was going to be different because Mina and Sero are finally joining along and making sure that Hikari has the best weekend since they weren’t able to babysit last time.

—  Hikari loved her Aunt Mina because she would braid her hair and style her with different cute outfits that only Mina, with her love for fashion and all things girly and pink could attempt to do and end up doing perfectly. She also taught Hikari all the dances to disney songs and nursery rhymes she knows how to do so far. Hikari affectionately refers to her Aunt Pinkie whenever Mina isn’t around.

—  Kirishima, who was the most frequent to visit the 3 of you, out of all of the Bakusquad, considers Hikari as his new #1 best friend. Dethroning and kicking her very own father from that spot. Hikari is a much more gentle and sweet version of her explosive father, and so Eijiro is able to interact and play with Hikari because he already knows Bakugo and his mannerisms very well. Hikari calls him Uncle Sharkie and she always asks her dad about how he and Kirishima became such good friends. To which Katsuki would reply with, “It’s a long story princess.”

—  Kaminari was the fun uncle. He always gave off those vibes ever since high school anyway. Giving Hikari candy behind Katsuki’s back (although you made sure Kaminari didn’t give her any that were tooth rotting sweet ones) Buying her ice cream whenever he came to drop by, and bringing her to the nearby playground amongst many other things. He spoils her a lot (in a good way) and Hikari calls her the fun “sparkie” uncle.

— Then, there was Sero. He retained his love for Spiderman since he was a kid, and he was able to pass that on to Hikari. His way of playing with her was cute since Sero is super tall, he would let Hikari ride on his shoulders, trying to imitate airplane noises as they would “fly” around the house. He gifted Hikari some child-friendly comic books for you and Katsuki to read to her before. bed. Although she never fails to say that the best heroes are her mommy and daddy. She calls Sero her Uncle Spidey.  

—  Uncle Sharkie, Uncle Sparkie, Aunt Pinkie, and Uncle Spidey. The Holy Quaternity.

(One-shot starts below this!)

“AUNT MINA! UNCLE EIJIRO! UNCLE DENKI! UNCLE SEROOO!” Hikari rushes to the door as soon as she hears the doorbell ring, she jumps into Eijiro’s arms and the red-haired pro hero twirls her around. The rest of the Bakusquad forms a circle around her, and can’t help but look at her adoringly.

“How’s my little ball of sunshine!?” Mina squeezes Hikari’s cheekies, earning giggles from the little girl. “I’m fine Aunt Mina! I mished chu!” She begins to talk in a cute accent as she just can’t contain her excitement.

“Hikari-chan! Do you still remember our little handshake?” Sero kneels down to the little girl’s height, offering her his hand. The little girl nods, shakes it and their thumbs twiddle together, as if they were thumb wrestling. They do a few more quirky hand shakes and then end it with a bang by saying “BOOM!” Sparks suddenly fly out from Hikari’s hands, her aunt and uncles coo since noticing how much her quirk has developed ever since they started babysitting.

“Okay you two!” Mina turns to you and Katsuki, as she had noticed you had some distinct luggage packed for a quick hot spring getaway, she practically pushes the two of you out of the door when Katsuki stops in his tracks, turning to his friends.

He glares at them and points his fingers to his eyes in a “I’m watching you” type of gesture. “Not one single scratch on her or all of you are dead to me.”

Kaminari laughs, patting his friend on the back, “We gotchu buddy. Your little ball of sunshine is safe in our hands. She’ll have the best time with us!”

Hikari quickly runs to you and Katsuki, giving you both a tight hug. “We love you Hikari. We’ll just be gone for two days oki? Your uncles and your aunt here will keep you safe this weekend alright? We love you!” You peck her lightly on the cheek, a pout forming on your daughter’s face.

“I’ll miss you Mommy. Daddy.” She doesn’t let go, hugging the two of you even tighter. “I loaf you! See you soon!”

“Be a good girl okay Hikari?” Katsuki kneels down to meet his daughter’s eyes, orbs that were as passionate as his, planting a kiss on her forehead. “We’ll miss you kiddo.”

You could hear Kaminari and Sero silently snicker in the background since they still can’t wrap their head around the fact that their friend could become so soft when in front of his child as opposed to his usual rough demeanor he shows to everyone else.

Katsuki wraps his arm around your waist, holding you tightly, with you dragging along the luggage that the two of you were going to bring on this trip. You bid your final goodbyes with ease and relief, knowing that your daughter will be in “safe hands” the entire weekend.

“We’re going to have so much fun!” Mina squeezes Hikari and the rest of the  Bakusquad into a hug. “What do you want to do first Hikari-chan?”

“Oh! Um! I don’t know if I should ask this b-but..” The blonde little girl hides her hands in her pockets, her feet tapping the floor. “I actually want to know how Mommy and Daddy met! Not the marry or the lovey thing! Just how they met and fell in love!”

“Hikari-chan!! You’re so cuteeeeeeee!” Kaminari begins to weep crocodile tears, pulling Hikari into another hug. “If that’s what you want to do for today, then we’ll gladly tell the story of how your mom and dad met!”

The Bakusquad formed and sat in a circle on the floor. Hikari was sitting on Mina’s lap as the latter braided her hair into what was called a Fishtail braid. Kirishima, with the help of Sato, baked some chocolate chip cookies a few days ago for all of them to snack on while they babysit Hikari.

Sero clears his voice and begins the story. “Your mom and your dad met each other in High School. Along with all of us and your Uncle Izuku, Uncle Tenya, Uncle Shoto, Aunt Ochaco, Aunt Tsuyu-” He continues to recall the names of all the other people Hikari know and love. “They were total opposites actually.”

“O-opposithes?” Hikari tilts her head, a puzzled look on her face as she tries to process what her Uncle Sero had just said. “D-does that mean that Daddy didn’t like Mommy?”

“It’s not like that Hikari-chan. Don’t worry.” Kirishima saves Sero from making the little girl misinterpret what he had just said, nudging his raven-haired friend in the arm. “It’s just that your dad was hot-headed and angry all the time, but he fell in love with your mom because she was sweet, patient and understanding!” Kirishima reiterates, a soft look on his face, looking back on the sweet sentimental memories of high school. “They were perfect for each other!”

“Oh! So daddy was angy all the time? Since mommy is really nice she told Daddy to be nice and they fell in love!?”

Mina giggles, continuing to style Hikari’s hair. “Yes Hikari-chan. That’s exactly what happened! You’re so good!”

“I am!?” Yay!” She claps her hands together, a wide smile present on her face, she was becoming more and more intrigued. “Tell me more please!”

“Well...” Kaminari continued where Kirishima had left off, “Your mom and dad got closer because they got teamed up to fight our pro hero teacher for our exam! They fought and they had a hard time talking to each other but they passed the exam in the end! It was hard at first. Your dad kept on telling us that he didn’t like your mom in a lovey way but we kept on pushing him until he accidentally said that he liked her! Your mommy heard what he said and then she told him that she liked him too!”

“F-fight? I thought Daddy only fights bad guys...” Her voice begins to crack as if she was about to cry. The Bakusquad were about to speak up and explain but failed to because as soon as Mina was done braiding her hair, Hikari immediately stands up and bows politely to the four adults. “I’m going to play with Mr. Rilakkuma for a while. See you later!” She grabs a cookie from the plate and rushes into her room, locking the door behind her.

“See you later Hikari-chan!” Kaminari waves cluelessly, not realizing what he had just said that prompted Hikari to leave the room in the first place. Mina stands up on her knees, shooting him a glare and flicking his forehead, “Did you not realize what you just did!?”

“Ahh what did I do!?” He rubs the spot on his forehead that Mina had just hit, and looks at his two other friends for a clue as to why they were ganging up with him.

“I guess Chargedolt will always be Chargedolt.” Sero shrugs, shaking his head in disappointment.. “Hikari misinterpreted what you said. She thinks that Bakubro used to fight (Y/N) like she’s a villain or something back when we were in High School.”

“WAIT! OBJECTION! SHE MISINTERPRETED YOUR STORY FIRST-”

“Guys. Guys. There’s nothing we can do about it. Both of you slipped, so let’s give Hikari-chan some space first then talk to her later.” Kirishima cuts Kaminari off before he and Sero would start an argument,  which would prompt Hikari to further think more negative thoughts.

“(Y/N) said that Hikari-chan’s been liking Tonkotsu Ramen recently, so I think it’s best if all of us help out in cooking her favorite comfort food to cheer her up.” Mina sighs deeply, crossing her arms. She heads straight to the kitchen without uttering another word, the three other guys follow suit.

After several hours, it was finally night time and time for dinner! At the orders of Mina, Sero and Kaminari came to pick up Hikari from her room.

Sero knocked softly. “Hikari-chan? It’s time for dinner!”

“We cooked your favoriteee Tonkatsu Ramen!” Kaminari added in a playful voice.

No reply.

“Hikari-chan?” Sero knocks again, a bit louder this time. He then turns to Denki and whispers, “Maybe she’s asleep?”

Before the two men were to retreat and go back to the living room, the door to the little girl’s room was unlocked with a long click, as if there was hesitance..

Denki quickly turns the knob to be surprised at the sight of Hikari... packing her clothes into a cute backpack?

“Hikari-chan! W-what are you doing?” Kaminari runs to her, trying to stop her from folding her clothes.

“I’m going to go see Mommy and Daddy! I’ll go take a bus and find them!” She wipes the tears streaking down her cheeks, sniffing her nose while attempting to stuff her teddy bear inside her backpack. “Daddy took Mommy so that they’re going to fight aren’t they!? I don’t want that!”

“No no no no no Hikari. It’s not like that!” Kaminari wipes the little girl’s tears with a handkerchief, he gestures Sero to call Kirishima and Mina whilst he tries to comfort the girl. “Your dad took your mom out because today is their lovey anniversary! It wasn’t because they were going to fight!”

“Ah! Owkay!” Hikari suddenly raises her head, taking the handkerchief from Denki and wiping her tears.  “Can I visit Daddy and Mommy then!?”

“O-oh well...”

“Of course we can go Hikari-chan!” Kirishima barges in, Sero and Mina close behind him. “Let’s surprise them!”

“Yay! Surprising them! I love surprises!” The little girl jumps up and down in her place. “What time do we go!? What time do we goooo!?”

“After dinner you little cutie.” Mina smiles at the younger Bakugo’s sudden shift in mood. “We cooked your favorite Tonkotsu Ramen!”

“AH! TONKOTSU RAMEN TONKOTSU RAMEN!” Hikari wiggles her arms, slightly pushing the adults out of the way and runs out of her room, Sero catches up to her, only to find her sitting properly on the dining table. “I’m ready to eat now! Just waiting for all of you!” She shouts from outside.

“She’s absolutely fricking adorable.” Kaminari remarks. “But Kiri.. are you serious? We’re actually going all the way to a prefecture and bring her to her parents? Isn’t our job supposed to be keeping her here while they rest and relax in the onsen?”

“W-well... It’s not like we can do anything about it right?” Eijiro shrugs off Denki’s concern, holding on to a stress ball that Hikari had in her room. “She’ll be moping around and going back to overthinking about what her parents are doing right now. We’ll take her there and besides, once we do get there, (Y/N) and Bakugo already had a day’s worth of rest. And I think it’s time for us to take Hikari on a road trip and have fun with her!”

“Uncle Eijiro.. Aunt Mina... Uncle Denki... what’s taking you so long?” Hikari yawns and rubs her eyes, still holding on to her chopsticks. “The ramen is going to get cold...”

“Oh no! It is!?” Mina reacts quickly, taking Hikari’s hand and leading her to the table. “Let’s get there before Elsa makes it even colder!”

“NOOOOOO!! Elsa’s going to do that!? Whyyyyyy!?”

“Let’s just hope that this isn’t a repeat of what happened when we took her to the community pool.” Kaminari shakes his head, recalling the past event. “Bakugo almost killed us if it weren’t for (Y/N).”

“I don’t think it will. Besides, Sero and Mina will be with us, so the more the merrier!”

Oh and the merrier it was.

“HAKUNA MATATA! WHAT A WONDERFUL PHRASE!” Bakusquad along with Hikari, sing in unison. Bopping along to the iconic song from Lion King.

“IT MEANS NO WORRIES! FOR THE REST OF YOUR DAYS!” Hikari belts out, the others clapping along to her singing, doing their best to hype her up

Kirishima was singing Timone’s lines, Kaminari was singing Pumba’s, Sero and Mina were the background vocals and and Hikari was singing Simba’s lines.

It was 6 am in the morning and they were finally on the road and on the way to a Hot Springs Resort in Chiba Prefecture, where you and Bakugo were staying in for the weekend.

Kirishima was driving the SUV that he immediately bought when he got his first Pro Hero paycheck, Denki was riding shotgun, and Hikari was seated at the middle squeezed in by both Mina and Sero.

Disney Songs were set to be played for the entire morning to tire out Hikari and so that she can sleep peacefully and rid Bakusquad of the slight annoyance they will receive when she asks “Are we there yet?” every 2 minutes.

Denki had unfortunately messed up the spotify playlist that Jiro had given him, and the piano opening of A Thousand Miles begins to play.

“OMG IT’S OUR SQUAD SONG!” Mina’s eyes lit up as soon as the well-known piano keys blared out from the speakers. “MAKING MY WAY DOWNTOWN, WALKING FAST, FACES PASS AND I’M HOMEBOUND!”

The iconic part before the chorus begins to play and the boys sing along, “AND I NEED YOU! AND I MISS YOUUU!” They shake their shoulders to the beat, and Hikari giggles along.

“CAUSE YOU KNOW I’D WALK A THOUSAND MILES IF I CAN JUST SEE YOU TONIGHTTTTT.” Bakusquad sings dramatically in unison, raising their hands up high and just vibing to the beat.

“Hikari-chan! You should totally hear your dad sing this! He loves this song!” Mina turns to the little girl who continued to laugh at how chaotic her aunt and uncles were being. “Really!? I want to learn it then so that Mommy and Daddy would know that I can be a singer too!”

The song ends and yet everyone else was still vibing. After the current song, the hype and the energy has died down and Hikari is fast asleep on Mina’s lap and her feet were lying on a pillow that was placed on Sero’s lap.

“She really is a spitting image of both (Y/N) and Bakugo. They’re really great parents.” said Sero, who wanted to break the silence and keep the atmosphere lively.

“My mind is still shook over the fact that Bakubro would turn so soft every time he’s in the same room as his daughter. It’s a complete 180 on his personality, and I really wanna tease him about it when we finally get the chance.” Kaminari interjects. “Do you think Bakugo would get mad when we arrive there?”

“Trust me on this guys.” Kirishima says casually, stepping on the gas pedal, as they go up the highway. “Bakugo won’t. In fact, I think both he and (Y/N) would be delighted to see their daughter travel for 180 miles just because of a misunderstanding.”

♡

“Suki-kun... do you think I should call up Mina to ask how Hikari’s doing?” You reach for your phone on the bedside table. “It’s 6 AM maybe Hikari forgot to drink her gummmy vitamins-”

“She’s going to be fine.” Katsuki murmurs in his bedhead voice, turning to your side of the bed to spoon you and nestle his head on your neck. “I trust Kirishima and the others.”

“This is surprising. You’re very casual about this now. What happened to your skepticism? Weren’t you too worried about how they were going to babysit Hikari after the pool incident?”

“To hell with that. If Hikari loves them, and they love her back just as much, might as well just roll with it. They’re my friends anyway and it’s better than Ilda scolding her for eating 4 M&Ms at 9 in the evening.”

You chuckle, holding his hands that were wrapped around your waist. “That’s harsh but you got a point. Although Hikari loves my friends and yours equally, they do think of Hikari as a little Bakugo so, they’re able to connect with her more.”

“What time do the private mixed gender hot springs open up again?” He grumbles suggestively and you giggle. “They open at 9 am. Should I reserve that time slot?”

“You should.” He growls but before you could even reply, he falls back to sleep.

♡

“WE’RE HERE!” Kirishima announces, waking Kaminari, Mina and Sero up from their sleep.

“W-what if this isn’t the right onsen?” Denki yawns, looking around to take in the view.

“I asked (Y/N) last night where they were staying. This is the place! She even gave me their room number for some reason.” Mina stretches her arms then pats Hikari on the forehead lightly. “Hikari we’re here...”

The little girl slowly opens her eyes, sitting up, then looks out the window.

“HOT SPRINGS! ONSEN!” She hastily tidies up her backpack and gets down the car as soon as Sero opens the door.

“Hikari-chan! Wait for us first!” Sero runs after her, making sure she doesn’t get too far.

“It’s 9 AM... I wonder if those two lovebirds are awake already.” Kaminari looks at the watch on his wrist, as he brings down their stuff from the trunk of the car.

“I looked this place up last night. It’s a family friendly hot springs resort, but it’s famed for it’s private mixed gender onsen. I wonder why though...” Mina mused, helping Denki out with bringing their stuff down.

Kirishima gets out of the car and bobs his head up as soon as he heard what Mina had said. He looks at Kaminari trying to tell him something through his stare. The mustard-haired man’s eyes widened when he realized why Kirishima was looking at him, then he turns to Mina who finally realizes what the mixed gender onsen meant.

“Oh.”

They enter the beautiful and lush resort, spotting Sero and Hikari who were sitting near the reception area, waiting for their reservation and for the rooms to be confirmed.

“Can’t believe we had to pay double the price for a standard room.” Kaminari pouts, whispering to Kirishima as the red-haired man hands him over the credit cards of each of his friends and then he hands it over to the concierge. He notices how excited Hikari looked and couldn’t help but smile.

As soon as the reservation was confirmed, Bakusquad and Hikari were able to check in immediately. Mina takes Hikari to her room while the three other boys were sharing their room with each other.

“Hikari before you can surprise your parents, you have to wear this Yukata first okay?” Mina helps fasten the bath robe on Hikari, but the little girl can’t help but be energetic and start dancing in her place. “Have you memorized the A Thousand Miles chorus already to sing to your mommy and daddy?”

“I have!”

Mina takes Hikari outside, the other boys were already out too and were wearing their bath robes.

“I saw (Y/N) enter this onsen. Maybe that’s where she and Bakugo are in? Should we take Hikari there?” Kaminari asks his three other friends, sipping on a fruit-flavored ramune, and handing one to Hikari.

“Yes please! I want to see Mommy and Daddy as soon as possible and then surprise them!” She sips on her ramune, looking at her aunt and uncles pleadingly, begging them to bring her there.

♡

“I could have sworn I heard Kaminari-kun’s voice outside.” You tell Katsuki, closing the screen door to the open air bath. You were holding a plate full of sliced Watermelon. Your robe was still on and you wanted to eat something first before getting in.

“Tch. Probably just your imagination.” Bakugo breathes a sigh of relief, slipping in further in the hot water. “I could get used to something like this every month.”

“Oh really?” You raise your eyebrow, and lick your lips. “Could you get used to-”

“If I could fall into the sky, do you think time would pass us ByYYY?”

You jolt up at the sweet and all too familiar voice that was echoing from the outside. Before you could even react properly, someone knocks on the door to reveal...

“Mommy! Daddy!”

“Hikari!?”

She jumps to you and pulls you into a tight hug. “I missed you so much! I thought you and Daddy were fighting that’s why you left!”

“Fighting!?” You look back and forth to Bakusquad then to your daughter. “Of course not! Why would we-”

“Uncle Sewo and Uncle Denki told me that you guys would always fight when you were in school! That’s why I thought that-”

“They did... what?” Bakugo’s tone becomes slightly irritated at the mention of Kaminari and Hanta’s name. The Bakusquad were about to face death and the consequences until...

“Oh! But! They also taught me a song today! It’s called A Thousand Miles! They said it was Daddy’s favorite!” She then turns to her father with such admiration in her eyes as she begins to sing the chorus. “Cause you know I’d walk a thousand miles just to see youuu~”

“Nice one sunshine. Did you learn that for me?” He gestures Hikari to approach him, ruffling her hair as she kneels down to peck him on the cheek. “I did!”

“It’s your favorite song! So, I also traveled a thousand miles to see you and Mommy!”

“Not necessarily a thousand miles, dear. But you’re close enough! You still traveled to see us! Yay!” You clap at the genius remark your daughter had made. You turn to the Bakusquad, nodding your head at them and smile. “Thank you for taking care of Hikari and bringing her here just because she wanted to. We’ll see you later at lunch?”

“Of course! Of course!” Mina waves goodbye, a tired but loving smile formed on her face. “We had a fun time with Hikari and we just couldn’t help but bring her here. But, you have Kiri to thank for all of this though!”

“No, I shouldn’t get all of the credit. This is a Bakusquad group effort, if Kaminari and Sero didn’t slip and if Hikari didn’t misunderstand their words, then we wouldn’t be here in the first place.” Kirishima cuts Mina off in a respectful way. He claps his hands together and pulls your other friends out of the room. “See ya guys later!”

“Thanks guys.” Bakugo nods generously to his friends. It was something he didn’t always do, but when he does, well, it’s worth seeing.

“Bye Uncle Sharkie, Aunt Pinkie, Uncle Sparkie and Uncle Spidey!” Hikari waves goodbye jovially, not realizing that she just called them the affectionate nicknames that she’s too embarrassed to say in front of them.

The four laugh at the little girl’s slip-up and they leave the hot springs in good spirits.

After that wonderful weekend, you explained to Hikari about why you’re taking a rest every month in the first place. She didn’t quite get the concept at first but after a little bit more of explaining, she came up with the idea that the two of you get four rest days in a month. One weekend just for you and Katsuki then the other weekend is for the three of you and if any of the Bakusquad or Dekusquad would want to come along.

It was the perfect agreement and if Hikari was going to grow up in an environment where she had the best aunts and uncles in the universe, then she’s going to grow up to be a great kid. Just like the adults in her life once were.

The End.

[littlemisslipbalm]

“Okay, lover boy”

For @bfharry boyfriendathon!!! A trip to Paris with your loving boyfriend Harry!

this gif bc sweetie! but also bc this is the coat he’s wearing :)

We’ve got fluff, (a little) angst, and smut for y’all and music always. I love Paris, was actually there this time last year so I was feeling nostalgic! Also Harry in Europe is always A+++ Hope y’all enjoy and feedback is ALWAYS appreciateddd

Word Count: 5.2k | Warnings: some self-doubt, oral!male receiving, mentions of sex, language? 

-

Summer in Paris. The most romantic place in the world with the loveliest weather. Except, the weather wasn’t exactly lovely. But it was quite romantic and that’s what you decided to focus on. Harry and you had flown off to get away from the world by living in the South of France for the Summer. First, you had begged Harry to spend a good three days in Paris before heading to the countryside. He had obviously agreed. Today was your second day.

“Love, wake up,” Harry cooed softly in your ear.

You stirred in the plush bed and slowly sat up in the mess of sheets. You rubbed at your eyes and when you blinked them open you saw Harry standing before you. He was already dressed in striped trousers and a striped shirt under a sweater vest and seemed to have run out to bring you coffee in bed. He crossed to perch on the bed and leaned forward to kiss your cheek. Your body leaned in to receive the sweet peck of his soft lips.

“Good morning, love, y’look ravishing” he sighed sweetly as he pulled back from your face. You rolled your eyes and scratched at your disheveled hair.

Moving your head in a circle around your neck, you laughed breathily at all of his sweet words, “I look a mess, but thanks, H.”

“You don’t,” he protested, sliding his hands around your shoulders and moving to lay on top of you on the bed.

You giggled and wriggled in the sheets as he began to pepper kisses along your face, neck and collarbones. “You’re absolutely stunning. Like always.”

The pair of you rolled around in the bed, exchanging kisses and caressing each other tenderly. Then you heard the rain and sat up.

“Har...is it still raining?”

He sighed and sat up with you, pushing his mused curls out of his face with one hand while his other was wrapped around your waist. “Sadly, yes. But we can still go out and explore. I know how excited you were to finally be back in Paris...”

Your head turned to rest in the crook of his neck, sighing softly, “It’s alright. I love the rain, can’t get me down.”

“Yeah, we can just take umbrellas and have fun with it.”

“No, no umbrellas. Want to run from awning to awning. Get stuck in the rain and be drenched. With you.”

Your lips had curved up into a smile as you spoke. Resting your head on Harry’s warm body, you imagined the day that the two of you were about to set off on. It wouldn’t be perfect and that would be okay. It was going to be what the two of you make of it therefore you wanted to make it magical. You sat up to meet Harry’s eyes as he cradled you in his arms. His face held a soft expression, one filled with love as he looked down at the woman he had grown to love more than anything. It wasn’t fleeting, it was constant. He loved you.

“Alright, let’s get goin’ then,” he laughed and shifted along the bed, sitting you up more. The hint of teasing in his voice was exciting and made you want to listen to him.

You pushed out of his arms and bounced up, your shirt sliding to cover the top bits of your thighs. “Alright!”

-

“Okay, maybe one umbrella would have been a good idea!” Laughing in disbelief, you duck beneath the awning of the cafe across the street from your hotel.

“It’s really coming down...but you said,” Harry grins down at you and swipes at a strand of your hair that was already drenched from the rain. You swat at his chest, his yellow knit sweater vest dry as he removes his large blue coat. “Hush.”

The cafe plays a love song in French and you hum along softly as you seat yourselves. Harry’s hand instinctively envelopes yours as your other free hands begin to leaf through the menu. His hand is warm and soft as it entangles itself with your own, which squeezes his in response to the brushing of his thumb over your skin. After placing your order, you watch the rain hitting the pavement and the light city traffic before you. Harry only has eyes for you, his gaze never leaving your figure. He takes you in, the way you’ve done your hair, the necklace you picked out - the one you always wear, the way you decided to wear no makeup since you planned on getting wet in the rain.

Bringing him out of his adoration, the waitress brings your drinks and he watches you say something sweet in french before he also says a ‘merci’. You sigh in contentment and shift in your seat after taking a sip of your espresso. Your eyes meet with Harry’s over the top of your small cup and you giggle at how extremely small the same cup looks in his hand. His dimples appear as he mirrors your expression. Then at the opening chords of the new song beginning to play, you perk up, immediately recognizing “Aline”, a clichely French song, but a favorite of yours nonetheless. You place your cup down and begin to sing along. Harry watches on, sipping his espresso and allowing you to swing your intertwined hands back and forth to the rhythm. You tip your head back and mock scream out the words, your french accent changing how your voice normally sounds.

“Is that a love song?” Harry asks at the finish of the song. He never bothered to learn French, despite having a couple of girlfriends who had been able to speak it.

You wet your lips, dried from singing, and shake your head slightly. “No, not really. It’s about heartbreak... Aline - the girl - is gone, I guess, and he’s drawn an image of her in the sand. But rain washes that away as well and now he’s twice as sad”

“That could still be considered a love song. He still loves her, right?”

“I guess.”

“Why do you like it so much?”

You hum, pondering the question, never thinking about what made her like the song so much to consider it a favorite. Harry stares intently, he loved talking to you about music. It was two of his favorite things put together.

“You won’t take ‘I just like shouting Aline’ will you?” Harry shakes his head, and you continue, “I guess I like it because it’s so tragic...and a little pathetic. Like, that sounds harsh, but this guy, he’s so in love with someone who’s already gone that he cries over her image washing away. He says he’s aching he’s so distraught and it’s just, it’s so relatable.” Harry stares at you, eyes soft, knowing you have more to say. Sitting so that your back is straight, you work to put your thoughts into words. “He’s calling out her name ‘Aline’ in hopes she will return to him and it’s just like you never want to feel that way in your entire life. But there are times that you do and you’re the pathetic guy crying over sand and watching it wash away into the ocean.”

“I will never make you feel like that, love,” Harry shifts your hands and brings them onto the table, leaning closer, a somewhat pleading look in his eyes.

“You never would on purpose, I know that. But that feeling it’s human insecurity, that’s the little fears I keep tucked away in the back of my mind, it’s how I’d feel if I ever lost you.”

“You’re never going to lose me,” he leans fully forward to bring his lips to yours. His lips easily brushed over yours, connecting perfectly as they always did. Your hand rescinds from his grasp and you place it on his chest, pushing him back slightly, “I know. Now enough with the mushy. Sights to be seen, clothes to be soaked!”

Laughing together, Harry settles the bill as you gather your things. You help Harry put his heavy coat back on after he finishes with the money, your lips pecking his as you fix the lapel. His lips curve into a smile against yours and his eyelashes flutter in excitement, never getting tired of the feeling of you.

-

You had finally arrived at the grass in front of the Eiffel Tower, where you had been meandering through the city to all day. Before you had arrived Harry and you had stopped in a chocolatier, a perfumerie, and another cafe - pair of you appreciated good coffee. Harry had begged to stop at a boulangerie to pick up bread, but you had insisted that you could stop at one on the way back to the hotel later, otherwise the bread would get all soggy. Eventually, Harry had agreed even though his argument was that he would eat it before it got soggy.

Running around with a canvas tote on your shoulder filled with the goodies you two had picked up was exciting and you spun around on the grass, your head tilted to the rain and your arms and bag flying out around you. Harry grabbed your waist and then slipped a hand up to cradle your wet hair. His hand carded through the tendrils and you tilted your face to look at him. His own wet chestnut hair flopped onto his forehead as he smiled down at you. You threw your arms up to hang on his shoulders. It was only you two out in the rain and you laughed as you watched a single droplet run the length of Harry’s nose. Craning your neck, you kissed the tip of his nose before it could fall.

“I love you,” Harry says only for you, completely unprompted.

“I love you, Harry,” you respond, lovingly.

“No, Y/N, I love you,” He repeats. Your wrists drop as your arms retract and your hands rest on his strong shoulders. You lean back slightly, confused. “I love you, I love you, I love you!” He starts to shout and picks you up by the waist, spinning you around in circles, slightly off the ground now.

“Harry!” You squeal, incredulous at his behavior. You loved it, but he wasn’t usually like this in public. Hand holding and short hugs, usually. Small pecks, at most. Shouting declarations of love, never - until now.

“Ok! I get it, lover boy,” You roll your eyes as he sets you down, placing kisses all over your rain soaked face. You tuck your head into your chest, feeling heat rise to your cheeks from his words and actions despite the cooling effect of the rain.

He smiles and leads the pair of you towards the Eiffel Tower. Halfway there he stops and snaps a few photos of you grinning, drenched in front of the site. Then you make him pose as well. He smiles for a few and then pretends to lean against it, which makes you roll your eyes again while you move to the perfect spot to make it look realistic.

You begin to move to head towards the tower again, but his hand snakes around your wrist, stopping you from moving. The rain was at a soft patter now, but you still were getting tired of being in it. Your brows raised expectantly at your boyfriend who was smiling adorably at you.

“Selfie.” He said simply.

“Harry...”

“C’mon. It’s romantic. Not like there’s anyone around to take it for us.”

You shrug and fold into his chest as he slips out his phone. His other hand slips around your waist, pulling you even closer. Your head rests on the upper part of his chest as one of your hands slips underneath his coat and the other goes to rest on his sternum. Your entire body is pressed against him, as he adjusts his phone trying to get both your faces in it along with a good portion of the Eiffel Tower. You both smile at your reflections that are beginning to smudge with raindrops and you ruffle your hair trying to look slightly disheveled after a few snaps. Then, Harry groans sadly, “These aren’t working.”

“I actually have an idea,” you say excitedly as the rain slows to a complete stop, “You okay with your phone possibly getting some water damage?” Harry nods, unsure, as you pluck the phone from his hands. You stroll a few feet away from Harry and pluck two of the boxes of chocolate out of your bag. Mumbling to yourself, you set up the boxes like a makeshift stand, “Please don’t get ruined, mes bonbons.” Then you swipe to the video choice in the phone’s camera and turn it on. You place it gently against the two boxes, so that the image contains Harry and the Eiffel Tower behind him. Then you race back to Harry, your sneakers splashing the puddles as you move.

“You’re brilliant!” He wraps his arms around your shoulders and sways you back and forth. “Smile at the camera, lover,” you pull from his strong grasp and wrap a single arm beneath his coat again, fingers pulling at the warm fabric of the sweater vest beneath it. He smiles down at you before turning his focus to the phone a little ways off. He tightens his arm around your shoulder and pulls you off your feet slightly, causing one of your legs to kick out slightly. This video is going to be so weird, you think to yourself and laugh as you straighten back up. You turn your face to Harry and scrunch it up at him. He smirks back at you and then leans down to kiss your cheek.

After you mess around a bit in front of the camera, forgetting for a minute that you're recording and having a small makeout session, you run back to your set up and gather your things. Harry comes with you this time and hugs your waist from behind you. He smiles at the camera one last time before you press the red button to end the video; the last clip being his face smiling brightly while you’re laughing breathlessly at him, both sets of eyes filled with love and joy.

-

There’s a restaurant inside the Eiffel Tower. It’s really beautiful and classy, perfectly French. Harry decides it’s the perfect place to have dinner, despite its upscale interior and your complete dishevelment from the rain and lack of preparedness in your outfit choices. As well as, the fact that it’s really early and the French don’t eat until much later in the evening so you’re the only ones there. Harry knocks on the door still and the pair of you are seated after he tells them who he is.

You comb lightly through your wet hair and you shuffle your vans together, uncomfortably. Harry, while dressed down still manages to look effortlessly chic, his trousers and yellow sweater vest with a striped dress shirt underneath is still passable as nice, especially if you ignore his own vans. In your haste you had dressed cute, but not necessarily upscale enough to where you felt like you fit in in that moment. Your wet hair wasn’t helping to calm your nerves as the well dressed waiters moved around you, placing things at your table. Your nervous hands smoothed over the plaid skirt and frumpy brown sweater you had beneath your navy trench coat that almost mirrored Harry’s only missing the colorful bobbles.

“Hey,” Harry notices your fidgeting and reaches out across the table, motioning you to place your hand in his outstretched one. You oblige reluctantly, shifting in your seat. Money has never been a problem for Harry since the pair of you began to date which wasn’t a bad thing. You had a job that allowed you to live a comfortable lifestyle, as well, just not quite to the extreme that Harry was able to. Normally, it didn’t bother you, but right now you felt very out of place, feeling unwelcome in Harry’s life. Harry can read exactly what you’re thinking as all these negative thoughts race through your mind. The odd sense of fear that the pair of you had talked about creeping in, the thought of losing him because you couldn’t keep up with his lifestyle. Like you had told him earlier, as well, you hope to never feel that way, but sometimes it’s there. And right now was one of those sometimes.

His finger traces the familiar pattern over the back of your hand as he holds it tight. “You deserve to be here just as much as the next person. You look lovely.” He smiles at you, trying to convey just how sincere he is being. You release a breath and try to relax at his words, knowing ultimately that he was right. He always knew exactly what to say and you smiled at him and whispered a small ‘thank you.’

-

“If I Fell” begins to play in the restaurant and John and Paul begin to serenade the empty room. The host had placed you in the furthest back room by the windows, allowing you and Harry to stare out at the city as you enjoyed the food and leaving you completely alone except for when the waiter would come and check in. The two of you had just finished the third course and were watching the clouds shift along the skyline.

Harry sighed contentedly and leaned back against his chair, straining his neck to the side, the tendon on his neck straining, causing your eyes to flicker up and watch the way he clenched and unclenched his strong jaw. You were in awe. “How did I get so lucky?” You say suddenly, your voice wistful, eyes a moment away from misty. Harry hums, jade eyes flitting back to your face, lips curving into a curious smile. “To be loved by someone like you, by you. How’d I get so lucky?”

Harry blushes at your words, the smile growing larger, overtaking his features. “Love, if I could list all the reasons I love you...God, we’d never leave this restaurant. Let’s just say I’m the one who’s lucky.” You pouted at his words, feeling cliche but also, totally and completely in love, so much so that you didn’t care about what you looked like as you stood up and leaned over the table, crashing your lips to Harry’s. He leaned up quickly to meet your lips over the small table. One of his hands flew to your soft cheek and held you close as your lips locked, tasting sweet from the champagne the two of you had been enjoying.

-

“Today was perfect, H.”

You glanced up to look at Harry’s face as he held you in his arms, walking slowly down the street. He walked slightly behind you as he braced himself around you, he couldn’t get enough of you, couldn’t touch enough, feel enough, breathe enough, where he would feel satisfied.

His eyes flitted down to meet yours, the jade of them sparkling under the cloudy sky save for the moon that had pushed its light through finally. “Yeah it was.”

Reaching the hotel, the two of you scampered up to your room and threw everything down the minute you got inside. The rain had mostly dried from your clothes, but you still couldn’t wait to take them off and get into something clean and warm.

“Do you want to shower?” Harry calls to you as he unpacks your bag, separating all of the items the pair of you had bought today - including the baguette he had finally gotten on your way home. Your head appeared from beneath your sweater as you pulled it from your body, leaving you standing in your bra and skirt.

“Together?” Your voice was calm since Harry and you occasionally showered together and were capable of keeping it tame, but there was a hint of excitement too after spending the whole day constantly within each other’s grasp.

“Sure, why not? Then we can get in bed and try the chocolates we bought today sooner,” he shrugs, making his way towards you, tossing a box of chocolates on the bed for later. He licks his lips and smirks down at you. “I like the way you think...but no funny business, lover boy,” you tease and run a finger down the center of his chest, only his dress shirt covering the toned body beneath. Your eyes have a glint of mischief in them as your words come out rather jokingly. “No promises,” he breathes before placing a chaste kiss to your lips.

In the bathroom now, Harry closes the door despite the lack of need for privacy. For some reason your heart is beating extremely fast, nerves springing forward at the urgent prospect of intimacy. Your heart always beats a little faster whenever Harry and you are together like this, but right now it’s going especially fast. The love you have for him, the passion, it’s never faded. Everytime is like the first time, maybe even better than the first time if you really think about it because now he knows you and you know him. It’s not about the novelty or the exploration, it’s about the adoration and the feeling each other’s touch ignites within you. So, right now, as the pair of you undress each other before you shower together, your heart is beating so fast because this isn’t lust or fleeting passion it’s eternal intimacy and deep devotion.

His fingers softly and nimbly release the clasp of your bra and then reach around to slip the straps down. It slides down your arms and falls to the ground and Harry watches you as you now move to undo the last few buttons of his shirt. You’re pressing close to him, feeling cold and slightly vulnerable despite being safe in Harry’s presence. The movements are tender, only the sound of your breathing and the rain that started up again bringing any noise to your interaction. Your hands flit down to the buttons on his trousers, your fingers shaking only slightly from the chill. Harry’s toned arms rise up to rub your upper arms, noticing your shivering as you undo the buttons and zipper. After his zipper is undone, you move your hands down to your side, where your own zipper is located, but Harry pushes your hands away, silently telling you he could do it. Sighing, you turn from him and turn the shower on, hoping that it will warm up quickly. Harry follows and presses up against you, his large arms encircling your frame, warming you instantly. He kisses the tip of your left shoulder tenderly and then rests his chin in the dip between your shoulder and neck. He breathes you in, taking in the moment, committing it to memory. Your hands rest over his gently and you feel yourself tilting your head back and basking in his embrace.

“We should probably get in,” Harry whispers after you had been standing there for far too long, simply holding each other. “Yeah,” you respond wistfully. Stepping in, you instantly place a kiss on Harry’s neck once he’s in. He looks at you questioningly, “I thought you said-” “I couldn’t help myself, you look like an angel.” He tucks his head at your words and then looks at you with love filled eyes, “Giving me a toothache with how sweet you are to me.”

He takes the bottle of shampoo the pair of you had brought and begins to massage it into your wet hair. You close your eyes in contentment at his actions, you loved how gentle Harry was and how he always insisted on washing your hair when you showered together. As he works on the hair you take the bar of soap and begin to rub it across his prominent pectorals, the suds show up and glisten across his tan skin. You smile to yourself as you pass over the two swallows and then travel down the center of his chest and bring the soap over the butterfly. Harry lets out a breathy laugh and you mutter, “Always so ticklish…” But you don’t mind. You rub some of the soap on your hands and then rub back over the same places on his body, spreading out the suds, while Harry moves to wash his own hair. This time your hands travel further down his body, your soapy fingers massaging Harry’s bare hips, rubbing soothing circles over the tense muscles from walking all day. Harry releases a heavy sigh, your movements releasing a pressure he hadn’t realized was there.

Your hands travel inwards and dance over his two fern tattoos causing Harry to shudder again. This time you say nothing, focussed on tracing the patterns and being so close to your lover. Finally, you remove your hands from his body and rinse them of the soap, grabbing a washcloth, you finish cleaning his arms, neck, and torso. Moving slowly, you drop the washcloth and Harry’s breath hitches, knowing what you’re intending to do. Harry starts, “You don’t-” but now his voice is completely caught in his throat when you put your hands on his length.

He’s already semi-hard, and it stiffens immediately in your embrace. He has to actively think about not getting hard whenever you’re naked around him, especially when you bathe together. He thinks you’re sexy, of course, but the intimate touches you share under the water is what really does it for him. However, he knows it’s not a sexual moment usually and doesn’t want to press himself upon you. Today, though, you want to take care of him. “Hush, I want to,” you say as you pump your hand languidly, blood rushing to his tip instantly. He groans as you stare deeply into his jade eyes. You were beautiful and wonderful to him. He didn’t know how he had found you, but he was happy that he had.

Then you slip down to your knees, legs folding perfectly as you continue to stare up at Harry. His eyes widen, realizing only now that you intended to use your mouth. One hand flies to your freshly cleaned hair and the other trails down the side of your face, taking in your beautiful face that is now in front of his hard member. Slowly, you bring your tongue to lick over the now angry red tip of his dick. Harry hisses as you open your mouth fully and begin to bring him completely inside. Your eyes never leave his as you descend until he hits the back of your throat. He’s big, really big, but after all this time you know how much you can take and you sit there for a moment. You let his weight rest in your mouth, he’s warm and you enjoy holding him this close.

Harry groans, “Please,” and you begin to move, seeing the strained look on his face.

Bobbing your head, you take him in and out of your mouth with ease, sometimes taking extra care over his head sucking specifically there. Your movements make Harry moan out and grasp at your hair, keeping it from your face as you work him over. His hips buck into your mouth the faster you take him in your mouth, but he tries to remain still, wanting you to be in control. One of your hands grasps his thigh, over his tiger tattoo, while the other runs over the parts of his dick you can’t take into your mouth. Harry is always vocal, but right now he’s at a loss for words. He feels so loved and cared for in that moment, it’s quick to his release. Your hand on his thigh feels him beginning to shake a bit more and his hips are stuttering more erratically.

He whines out, “I’m close,” and you pull back until your lips are only over his head.

Your tongue flattens over the slit of it and then swirls around it. You suction your lips around his head and suck hard, your hand pumping quickly, your eyes still never leaving Harry’s face. He had closed his eyes a while ago, but opens them up slightly right at his moment of release. He bucks his hips one last time as you moan around him at the feeling of him inside your mouth. His orgasm wracks through him and you continue to suck, trying to take up every last bit.

“Oh fuck,” Harry whimpers, chest heaving and head hanging low as he stares down at you.

The water is still running in the shower over your erotic image. You swallow and pull off of him, placing a gentle kiss to his head before standing up, whispering something inaudible to just Harry’s dick. Harry takes your hands in his and kisses you hungrily as you stand up. The taste of himself still on your lips. His arms are wrapped around your waist and one of his hands cups your ass cheek needily.

Against your lips, he growls, his voice deep and accent thick, “Let me take care of you now.”

You giggle and place your hands on his wet chest. “You don’t need to. I just really wanted to make you feel good.”

“But making you feel good will make me feel good, too,” He whines, pressing you into him more.

“Oh, I know,” you laugh, “But we’re really wasting water now and I want to try the chocolates we bought. You can make me feel good in our bed, this porcelain really isn’t the most comfortable.” You’re completely enjoying Harry’s eagerness to give to you after he had just received, but you were starting to prune from the water and wanted to lie in bed with fluffy robes with him.

He huffs but nods. He kisses your lips a final time and begins to climb out of the shower. “Fine, but I know none of those chocolates can possibly taste as good as what I really want for dessert.”

“You can have your dessert soon enough...Okay, lover boy?”

-

Wrapped up in Harry’s warm embrace, you fall asleep under the Parisian sky. His lips ghost over your collarbones as his head is tucked into you. You sigh in contentment as his hands draw a familiar pattern over your skin on top of your hip. Your mind flits over the moments of today and settles on this one right now. Harry wrapped around you, your legs entangled, warmth surrounding you. It’s peaceful. You’re blissed out from the chocolates and love Harry made to you.

Your eyes flutter open for a moment to look at Harry. His curls and the side of his face are all you can make out in the dim lit room, the moon’s light peaking through the sheer curtains. The slope of his nose is prominent, as well as the stubble beginning to grow on his jaw and cheek. His little moles decorating his otherwise smooth skin. He nuzzles further into you and you feel his stubble rubbing slightly against you, scratching lovingly onto your skin. It feels nice as your eyes close once again beginning to drift off to sleep. But you know no dream could possibly be better than the feeling you have right now, with Harry.

-

💛 love y’all (also I really didn’t proofread so like I maybe contradict some shit I say bc I wrote this over weeks lmao)

[harrywritingsbyme]

Story: y/n feels sorry for being herself. sometimes she has trouble accepting and loving herself..even tho she has no problem loving Harry, with all his flaws. he definitely helps her with that ;)

Beautiful

Anonymous Said: 11 and 20 from the prompt list

Based Off Of This Ask

A/N: I got a request for 11 and 20 from the prompt list and they fit perfectly with this. I definitely wrote this with myself, my own struggles, and the struggles of the other beautiful ladies out there in mind. I also wanted to make it a lil bit deeper by incorporating some post-pregnancy y/n had Harry up in there. Also, I wanted do something real fluffy bc what I have planned for Friday is insane. Enjoy🙃

11. “Fuck you have no idea what you do to me.”

20. “Such a beautiful body, why would anyone hate it?”

You were really going through it this morning. For starters, when you woke up you were immediately drawn towards going back to sleep and recouping some of the sleep you’d lost recently. On top of that, your nipples were incredibly sore from breastfeeding and your body was still drained and recovering from giving birth three months ago. But luckily for you though, you were blessed with an amazing husband who didn’t hesitate to take care of you guys’ baby boy. You didn’t even have to ask him, as soon as he saw the exhausted and overwhelmed look on your face when you two woke up to the loud cries of your son, he immediately sprung into action and ordered you to stay in bed and take care of yourself while he tended to the baby and gave you your space. You were able to get a bit more sleep and feel way better than you did earlier on in the morning. Another hour and a half of sleep did wonders for you at this point in your life. That small window of time allowed you to feel rested enough to get up out of bed and get yourself together.

You wasted absolutely no time stripping your sleep clothes off and hopping right into the shower. The water was the perfect temperature and you just stood under it. The hot water pouring down onto your body felt absolutely amazing and you could hands down feel your stress and tension just melting away from it. You were relaxed. Even though you loved your son with your entire being and then some, it was hard. You were so grateful for Harry and you felt like you shouldn’t have any complaints at all.  But it’s just that you weren’t used to having anyone depend on you the way your son just about solely depends on you. So times like these where you were granted a little time to regroup were cherished and seized.

After a nice long shower that was filled with pampering, you turn the water off and you step out to get yourself dried off and dressed. You wrap the fluffy towel from the counter around your body and you head back into the bedroom to grab some clothes. After picking out your daily attire of a t-shirt and sweats, you station yourself on the bed to get ready. But unfortunately for you, you’d stationed yourself right in front of the full body mirror. The second you unwrap your towel from your body, the good feeling that was flowing through you vanished and was replaced with a sad and embarrassed one. This feeling hadn’t reared it’s ugly head in a good while. You hadn’t had the time since the baby was born to take a good look at yourself; and you were starting to feel like you were better off that way.

You always struggled when it came to you having a positive viewpoint of yourself, and in particular your weight. You were constantly battling against the negativity that was coming at you from almost every part of your life. You were in an uphill battle with losing weight and getting to a place where you felt comfortable all the way around. Whenever you took strides to get to that better place, you were always pulled back down. That force was the little comments from family members, people online, and yourself. Whenever you saw or heard what people had to say, you let yourself be overcome with that negativity and in turn it was harder to keep going and push forward. You felt like all your efforts were going to waste and you were never going to see results, inside and out. And at some point you just stopped loving yourself. You managed to love Harry despite his flaws but you couldn’t seem to do it for you. You pretty much gave up on loving yourself. And to make it even worse, you put all of the love inside of you that was supposed to be dedicated to yourself into loving others. The only way you got out of that enormous rut was because of Harry. He made sure to consistently and constantly reassure you that you were beautiful and worth loving. He did daily affirmations and did everything in his power to help you get back on track and work towards your goals.

And for a year you were able to have success in doing that.

After a little over a year of loving yourself, working towards your weight goal, and just feeling good, you got pregnant. When the news broke, you and Harry were over the moon. The two of you were extremely happy and in love that you both could’ve just burst from joy. You were head over heels for Harry and for yourself, and Harry was head over heels for you and the fact that you were head over heels for yourself. Everything was the way it was supposed to be and it was only getting better now that you guys were expecting a bundle of joy. Fortunately for you both, you were able to glide through your pregnancy with only minor hiccups along the way. Since you were always exhausted and you were actively changing, your solid workout and extensive selfceare routines fell by the wayside. You were so tired and just not in the mood that you couldn’t even do the low intensity workouts that your doctor said were okay. The only things you had were your mental wellbeing which was fine, and Harry. You felt bad that you weren’t keeping yourself up the way you’d been doing for the past year and you came down on yourself for it at times. But of course, Harry nipped it right in the bud and brought you back. You couldn’t imagine what you’d do without him throughout all of this.

So seeing yourself in the mirror and taking in your body now was incredibly disheartening and to you it was like a slap in the face to all the hard work you put in along with the tremendous amount of support from Harry. You fully understood that your body wouldn’t be the same after giving birth but you were hoping that it wouldn’t be as bad as it was. That is, as bad as you thought it was. Because you were constantly fighting with those negative thoughts and trying your hardest to love yourself the way you deeply love Harry, everyone else, and now your son, you tended to over exaggerate in your mind how bad something was. If you saw something you didn’t like, you didn’t like it all. And as a result of that, you spent a good amount of time standing there in front of the mirror critiquing your body and asking yourself over and over again how in the hell am I supposed to get back to normal?. You were so engrossed in overanalyzing and critiquing that you didn’t even notice Harry come back into the room.

While you were having some alone time, Harry went into full dad mode. He was able to get bubs to quiet down and let his dad take care of him. He did a quick diaper change so that bubs could be comfortable while Harry made himself something quick breakfast. He played with the baby for a while before giving him a lukewarm bath to get him cleaned up for the day, and he fed bubs, lulling the little boy right into a milk induced sleep. And hopefully, it’d stick for an hour or two so that he could spend some time with his wife. When he makes his way into the room, Harry’s feeling good. He got the baby squared away and taken care of, and his wife was taking some much needed time to herself. He knew that it was a big adjustment for you and he wanted to take as much off of you as possible because you deserved it. After your struggles in the past with your weight and loving yourself, Harry could only imagine how difficult it must be to keep yourself in a good headspace and just enjoy motherhood to the fullest without focusing on the “negatives”.

That’s why when he saw you looking at your naked body in the mirror with a downcast and almost disgusted look on your face towards your reflection, Harry knew exactly what was going on and he had to step in. You were doing so well and the last thing he wanted was for you to fall back into that deep hole of negativity that you worked so hard to get out of. He immediately makes his way over and stands right in front of you so that he’s blocking your view of the mirror. When he does this, your head still hangs low and you can’t even bring yourself to look up at him.

“I look horrible.” You whisper sorrowfully. At this, Harry extends his hands out to cup your cheeks and lift your head up to look at him.

“Baby…” He coos, seeing the saddened look in your glassy eyes. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world, you always have been. You’re even more beautiful now.”

“No I’m not. Everything is worse and I won’t be able to get back from this.” You sigh pessimistically.

“Yes it’ll take time, but you can do it and I’ll be right here by your side to help you through.” He begins, lovingly reassuring you of his full commitment to you. Harry then lets go of your cheeks and moves so that he’s behind your body and so that you can see the mirror again before wrapping his arms around your naked waist. “When I look at you, I see a badass and a strong woman. I see the woman who carried and delivered our son. I see the beautiful mother of my child. I see the woman I married three years ago. I see you Y/n, the love of my life.” He whispers, trying his hardest to hold back his own tears. Seeing you be so harsh towards yourself was not okay with him and it tore him apart. You are his rock, and to see you falling apart was causing him to break down himself.

“I just- I hate it.”

“Such a beautiful body, why would anyone hate it?” He whispers, trying to reason with you. “You’re beautiful.” He reminds pointedly. “Now say it with me.” He instructs further.

“You’re beautiful.”

“I’m beautiful.” The both of you say in unison repeatedly, every time Harry gives you a kiss to your neck. As this continues on, Harry couldn’t stop himself from stiffening up in his pants. The two of you hadn’t been this intimate in a good while and he missed it. He knew that you were still feeling insecure and that his purpose was to reassure you that you’re not what you’re saying you are and that he loves you so much. That’s why Harry was absolutely loving the idea of making love to you so that you could really see how amazing you are and the effect you have on him.

While his kisses and affirmations continue, Harry’s hand slowly strays away from your lower stomach. He slowly but surely makes his way down to the area between your legs, cupping you in his hand with his fingertip resting on your button between your folds. He then begins to circle his finger around your button. You hadn’t felt his fingers in a good while, and you had to admit that they felt really good against you right now. When your pants and small moans begin to hasten and you begin to enjoy him more, Harry swiftly turns you around to face him before lifting you up and lying you down on the bed. Once you’re lying on the bed, Harry quickly undresses himself  before lying on top of you.

“Fuck you have no idea what you do to me.” Harry admires, taking in all of your amazing features. He then begins to work your body, starting with your neck and working his way down. He peppers kisses all across your skin and he continues with his affirmation as he kisses down and up your body. “Wanna make you feel good, wanna make love to you. Can I baby?” Harry asks softly, bringing his lips to yours.

“Please?” You sigh needfully up to him. You really needed to feel good. When you give him this answer, Harry is quick to keep himself propped up on one hand as he reaches down to line himself up with your entrance. When you feel him nudging at your hole, you reach up to pull his face down and connect your lips with his before lifting your hips up a little to give him the signal to keep going. As he pushes into you, you both keep your mouth’s against each others, moaning into one another as he enters you. It felt a bit weird, but it felt really good. You felt full and Harry was filling you. Everything was perfect.

Harry continues to slowly and deeply rock his hips into you while whispering sweet nothings into your ear through his moans and  keeping two fingers on your clit. The both of you were on cloud nine. You were being fully pleasured by Harry and he was pleasuring you and you feel special the way you deserved while receiving amazing pleasure as well. Since the both of you were a bit more sensitive due to the fact that there were so many emotions involved, you and Harry reached the edge pretty quickly. The pleasure was outstanding and you both needed to let go and fully experience it all.

“Wanna cum with me darling?” Harry coos through a moan, continuing to rock into you and rub at your clit.

“So bad.” You whine, feeling his cock hit that sweet spot deep inside you.

“I love you so much baby.” Harry grunts down to you, deeply pushing in one final time  as he begins to let go inside you.

“I love you too!” You gasping response, feeling your own release wash over your entire being. It was amazing to say the least.

“Y’so beautiful.” He says again as he rides the wave of his release. When he says this, he is subliminally signaling for you to repeat it.

“I’m beautiful.” You say softly, still feeling the major shocks of your release.

One round of loving wouldn’t do the ultimate trick in changing how you felt, but it was definitely a good place to start.

Masterlist

[asmo-ds]

(1) okay so mc and dia are married, this is their first christmas as a married couple but dia is feeling very overwhelmed and stressed out (they have a pact since they're married and mc can feel to an extent how dia feels bc of it) bc he's basically the king of hell, so they suggest they go and spend christmas in the human realm at mc's house. and since mc is an average person they do normal person things, and they're just very domestic and cute.

Home For The Holidays

Diavolo x MC Fluff

Word Count: 1468

a/n: I really hope you like this I really enjoyed writing it! It was very relaxing and nice to imagine :)

Summary: Though he wants to celebrate the human holiday, Diavolo fears he would be offending his kingdom by celebrating a holy day; so his lovely spouse, MC, suggests they return to their home for the Holidays so he can truly feel the Christmas spirit that humans feel annually

Diavolo stared over his kingdom with sorrow as he drank a cup of hot cocoa. Little did he know his spouse stood in the doorway watching the mopey behavior he’d been showing for days.

MC knew how badly Diavolo had wanted to celebrate Christmas in the Devildom, but they also knew he couldn’t celebrate the birth of a religious figure in Hell. As they made their way towards the large demon he heard their footsteps he shook his head and put on a fake smile.

“Dia, you seem troubled,” MC wraps themselves around him, nuzzling his voluptuous chest with their cheek.

“Do not worry, my love, I was just lost in my thoughts I suppose,” he sighs heavily.

“You know, even demon princes need vacations sometimes, perhaps you could finally see my home in the human world and we could spend Christmas there! What better way to understand the human holiday than witnessing humans celebrating it!” Mc leans back to look at him, keeping their forearms resting on his broad shoulders. His eyes sparkle with excitement as he lifts up his spouse, spinning the, in the air with joy.

“You’re absolutely right! Then it is decided! Tomorrow morning we leave for the human world!” Diavolo loudly proclaims as he leaves kisses all over MC’s face. “BARBATOS,” he calls as he runs off.

“If anything happens to him in the human world,” MC spins on their heel to look at Lucifer who had been standing on the other side of the wall eavesdropping, “the punishment will be severe, MC.”

“... Lucifer I’m married to him you don’t have to threaten me like when we first started dating.” -

The couple emerged from a portal in front of a tiny home that resides in a quiet neighborhood, snow filling their vision which caused MC to groan.

“Shit I can’t even see the driveway - here, Dia, take the bags and this key and head inside I have to shovel before anything else,” Diavolo stares at them, astonished. He nods and opens the front door while MC grabs their shovel and begins to move snow away from their car and their access to the street.

“Demons aren’t built for the cold... so I’ve never thought of coming here during winter,” Diavolo walks back outside murmuring to himself as he watches his lover shovel from afar. He crouches down sticking his hand in the white that coats the doorstep, “Snow...” His eyes glimmer with joy as he brushes the snow around with his bare hand.

“Dia, dear! You’ll catch a cold like that!” MC falls to their knees taking Diavolo’s snowy hand in their own. They lift it up to their face and breathe hot air across the back of his fingers, rubbing the rest with their own cold hands to create heat. Diavolo admires their rosy nose and cheeks as they sniffle occasionally before he looks down at the spot he swept away. ‘Home Sweet Home’ the mat that had been previously hidden read and he smiled as he looked back at his spouse who was now shivering as they attempted to warm them up. He nuzzled his cold nose against their own lovingly before leaving a soft kiss on their lips.

“Come on, let’s head inside!” Dia drags MC to their feet and heads inside, abandoning MC’s mission to shovel their driveway.

When they get inside Diavolo finally takes a look at MC’s small home.

“Wow it’s so...small,” he says, making MC blush and wave their hand in an embarrassed matter.

“Sorry I know it’s not much we can totally head back to the castle if you’d like haha!” MC nervously laughs before Diavolo puts a hand on their cheek, both still cold from the outdoors.

“No no, my love, it is wonderful! It feels so homey and less like a workspace made to hold the responsibility of a whole realm,” he laughs, “I feel more at home here than I do at the castle to be completely honest.” He takes in the scent of MC as it now surrounds him.

“This was my childhood home- my mother and father passed away when I was a teen so I’ve lived on my own until you summoned me for the exchange program,” MC blushes as they look around at the home they’d left behind a few years before. 

“So your entire life was spent in this one home?” Diavolo looks at MC with a small smile. “Well, I’m honored you allowed me into such an important piece of you,” He gives a big goofy grin, and MC giggles.

“We’re married you, dork, of course, I’m going to give you all of me - no matter how small of a piece it may be I will share it with you.” 

After putting their things away MC realizes they have no food that hasn’t expired in the three years they’d been gone. “Oh, do you want to see a human world Grocery store, Dia?” His face brightens up as he nods enthusiastically.

They make their way to the grocery store, Diavolo constantly pointing at random human world winter things and expressing his joy to see them in person.

“Ah, MC, what is this?” He smiles pointing at a candy cane a man in a Santa costume was giving out for donations to some charity.

“A candy cane! Here try it- it’s sweet!” MC exclaims- knowing damn well that it was minty as all hell and their oblivious husband was about to get a very cold mouth instead of the sweetness he was expecting.

Their plan worked as Diavolo immediately spat out the minty treat in surprise, “What is this flavor?! We don’t have things that make our mouths cold where I’m from!” He shouts -  grabbing his water bottle and chugging it and spitting it out as the ice-cold water made contact with his minty mouth.

The whole time Diavolo was flipping out MC was crying with laughter as they watched their husband try and figure out how to get the cold sensation out of his mouth.

After they had finished grocery shopping (which took hours as Diavolo kept asking what every single food was) they headed back to MC’s home and MC offered to cook him a human world dinner that was typically served on Christmas.

Diavolo sat at the dining table as MC placed a plate in front of him with various human world foods he had yet to see.

“MC, what is this?! This mushy buttery stuff?!” He asks through a mouth full of mashed potatoes. “YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT THE BROWN MISHAPEN EGGS YOU GOT AT THE STORE TURNED INTO THIS?!”

“Yes Dia, they’re not eggs they’re potatoes and don’t talk with your mouth full,” MC giggles reaching over with a napkin to wipe the corner of his mouth before placing a soft kiss on the freshly cleaned spot.

As they finished Diavolo offered to start a fire in MC’s fireplace as they set up blankets and pillows in front of the heat with a Christmas movie playing on the tv that hung above the fireplace. 

“Your cooking is very good, MC! Perhaps I should hire you to cook for me instead of Barbatos,” Diavolo pipes up with a hand on his tummy- rubbing the full organ softly.

“If you think my cooking is good wait until tomorrow. Tonight was Christmas eve so we stayed here but tomorrow you’ll get to meet my grandmother- she’s the one who taught me how to cook and I could never prepare.” Suddenly Diavolo sat straight up, staring down at the human.

“You really want me to meet your family?” He softly says looking as if he were about to cry. He was honestly so touched that MC trusted him enough to bring him home to their family.

“Yes of course! You’re my husband and I always talk about you, my grandfather seemed excited to meet you when I called yesterday to tell him I would be home this year-” MC is interrupted by slightly chapped lips on theirs.

They kiss the demon prince back and they lay there for a few minutes making out, relishing in each other’s passionate embrace.

Afterward, Diavolo lays back down, wrapping his arms around his spouse and holding them close. “MC, I am so completely and utterly in love with you, I couldn’t be happier to call you mine. Thank you for allowing me to come here with you. I haven’t felt so relaxed since my father left me as a young boy to carry the responsibility of all evil. I hope you will allow me to join you like this every year.”

“Of course, Diavolo. For the rest of my life and after I swear I will show you what its like to be relaxed and truly loved,” they respond with a big yawn at the end.

After a few moments he looks down to see his lover fast asleep with small snores falling from their slightly parted lips. He chuckles softly and brushes some hair out of their eyes before placing a kiss on their forehead and closing his own eyes, falling asleep to the sound of a dying fire and the credits of a Christmas movie.