#he can’t help but get jealous and think of the what ifs about his own solo career

[shoheiakagi]

Okay, second question for the Band AU! I don't know if idols work the same way as mainstream music, where there's a lot of crossover between singers and television/movies, but how would the guys and your lovely girls deal with being scouted for the big screen? Who would want to give acting a try, who wouldn't? And what would the couples do if they found themselves cast as each other's onscreen lover (Because ofc that adds fuel to the fire for gossip).

I know that there’s a lot of kpop idols who go into acting, but not too sure about jpop idols. And im not 100% sure about this, but I remember reading that theres this stigma amongst actors about idols going into acting; that they hate when idols pursue acting cause the idols booked the role due to their popularity and not cause of any acting talent lol

i’m so sorry cause i ended up going on a different tangent with this ask and focus on dewa/miyako, so i hope you don’t mind!

Out of the girls, Miyako is the only one to pursue acting. Despite not being the most popular member, she is still well known for her beauty, which fits the quintessential Japanese beauty standards: petite frame, pale skin, long dark hair, long eyelashes, and high-bridged nose. It wasn’t that hard for her to land the lead role in a romcom, starring against a male pop idol who also recently joined the acting scene (okay idk why but akiyama came straight to my mind lol). The casting alone for this movie makes a lot of noise, as the main leads look extremely elegant and gives off major royalty vibes, which gains the attention of the general public. A lot of interviews and press tours get more people to fall in love with the chemistry between miyako and akiyama (which takes more effort from miyako’s end since akiyama can be pretty stiff). But unlike her idol career, she has more difficulty fitting in at first due to the stigma some of her costars have against her for being an idol.

Idk why, but i don’t really see any of the guys pursuing acting tbh. At most, i can see chitose landing some role in some adult comedy that doesn’t perform that well, which has him running back to the group and not want anything to do with acting ever again. The other guys probably got second hand embarrassment and don’t want to go through what chitose had to. When they first heard about miyako landing a role in a new movie, they couldn’t help but feel pity cause the poor girl might have to go through the same idol curse that chitose went through. but when they see the massive media coverage and support she’s getting, some of them can’t help but feel envious. here comes this girl group who’s catching up to their fame and popularity despite not being around for that long and definitely not working as hard as them, and now each members are getting their own individual gigs as solo acts?? while miyako may be the only one to pursue acting out of her group, she’s certainly not the only one who’s making a name for herself outside of the group. and the guys can’t help but feel jealous about that. as much as they love their group, at the end of the day, they’re different guys with different interests. it’d be nice to be known more outside of their fanbase, without having to be lumped in with 5 other guys. its funny how the girls, despite having a lot of restrictions put on to them by their company, still have the freedom to pursue things outside of the their group and make a name for themselves. whereas the guys have all the artistic freedom a musician can ask for, but seem to lack an identity of their own.

Dewa is annoyed. Its bad enough that he sees miyako’s face plastered all over japan with the rest of her dimwitted group. Now seeing her face being plastered all over the country with that guy with toothpick from s4? She likes that type of guy? The type with a stick up his ass? (talk about the pot calling the kettle black). But theres something off this time. With how strict her company is, he’s not used to seeing her having full blown conversations with other male celebrities, so imagine his surprise when he catches interviews where she keeps laughing at every little thing akiyama says, resting a manicured hand on his shoulder. or how she would bat her eyelashes at him while asking him a question, and how she would look intrigued as she hangs onto every word that comes out of his mouth. nothing about their interaction seems right to dewa, and in a way he’s relieved that is all an act to promote their new movie (at least thats what he tells himself and chitose when the latter tries to taunt him). But seeing miyako gain more success and fame as an actress, make more friends/connections within the industry, and create an identity for herself outside of her group is bothering dewa a lot more than it should be. in a way, it feels like she’s constantly rising and leaving him behind. and if acting doesn’t work out for her? no problem, she can always fall back onto her idol persona. and if performing is no longer fun? perfect, she can go back and take over her family’s business like she was supposed to. but what about him? if the group decides to split and go their own way, what will happen to dewa masaomi?

[ovaryacted]

I can’t stop thinking about Leon with an s/o in the healthcare field. Like a doctor, a nurse or a therapist of some kind.

I mean, Leon would see you, with a drive to help people. To cure. To end someone’s pain. Your hands were clean. Almost spotless.

Compared to his, bathed in blood. He’s a monster. A demon, who ended lives where you’d save them.

He’d look at you and think he’s unworthy.

You were a healer. A guardian wearing white. While he was a killer, always clad in dark blues and blacks.

I’m not saying having a healthcare worker s/o would make his mental state worse. But I’m sure it would bring up some deep guilt to see you save lives while he’s ended them.

Idk. I’ve been thinking of that recently, lol.

-angsty anon

Yeah, I feel like if Leon were to have a partner who's in the medical field, I think he would second-guess himself frequently and would feel like he is tarnishing his own relationship.

Besides, his survival guilt continues to make him believe that he is a monster of his own making, and being able to see someone save people the way he wishes would bring a certain bitterness he will try to hide. It's not that he's jealous per se, or that he would compare himself to his own partner, but instead, he would play the what-ifs scenarios on a loop about what would've happened if he wasn't forced to become an agent and fight bioweapons.

Leon is so numb to violence and killing that it's second nature to him, he is used to having to shoot or stab things that were once considered human. The more he does that, the less he feels tied to his own humanity, as if it was draining from him with every bullet he shoots or swing of his tactical knife.

His hands are tainted with blood that he can't wash away, and he continues to blame himself for not being able to save anybody in Raccoon City and forward. Leon is always comparing every mission he goes on back to RC, which was the worst moment of his life until every other traumatic event he finds himself in continues to be worse than the last. It's just trauma on top of continuous trauma he can't seem to control.

He originally wanted to be a cop to help people, and that dream got ripped away from him before it could even start. Leon can still count and remember the people he wanted to save but simply couldn't, and as he gets older and the number rises, he believes it's better if he just stops keeping count, clearing his conscience of the guilt that suffocates him.

His partner doesn't have to deal with that level of trauma, their entire existence is equivalent to that of an angel in real life, and their hands are magic. They make people better, they save others and bring them back to life, something he can't do even if he pretends that his job somehow does contribute to saving "good people". Sure, the healthcare field still has its bad days, because it's not a perfect system. People still die and capitalism doesn't help to put fewer people in the ground, but the fact that you still try and have the ability to keep going is what Leon envies. He's run himself empty, and even though he is forced to do this job, he always finds himself close to giving up.

He supports his partner's dream and ambition of wanting to bring people back to health and their dream actually came true, unlike Leon's dream of changing the world by becoming a cop. To him, their significant other can be considered an irreplaceable member of society, while to him he's always thinking the world will forget about him, or even be better off if he didn't exist.

[xmariiitamiiix]

A Fly caught in a Spider's Web: Suguru Geto x Reader: Chapter 2

Hey everyone here is the 2nd chapter (really just 2nd part but I will just call it chapter) for this fic

I really just kinda want to use this chapter to establish some of their rules that they follow while also adding a small part of tension but I promise next chapter is where we are going to really be building to get to the good stuff

You bend the blinds once more as your eyes scan the outside world below your small studio apartment on the third floor. Still, nothing but passersby walk the sidewalks, unaware of the day you had. The streetlights, along with the traffic lights, are the only things illuminating the street. You huff to yourself, jealous of the unbothered looks of the people living peacefully in their own little bubbles, unaware of the inner turmoil and fear that you felt just earlier today. They walk without turning and watching their backs, not fearful of a psychotic monk following after them.

You go back into the kitchen and take out your bowl of ramen noodles from the microwave, stirring it as you walk back into your bedroom, closing and locking the door behind you, just in case. You sit down at the edge of the bed, placing the bowl on your nightstand, as your hand runs against the small red marks on your body from earlier in the day. You look at one that was on your thigh as you begin thinking more and more.

These weren’t mosquito bites, were they? Your finger traces around the circular edge of the mark. This was something else... something sinister. You raise your head to look at your television, which is playing a random movie that you could care less about in the moment, as you go back to the ramblings of what Ume referred to as Geto-sama. But from lazy Google searches, you found his name to be Suguru Geto.

He was a man dedicated to helping those in need—at a price. You scoff once you read the part about helping, remembering the ugliness of his gaze on you. "What a weird way to say a money-hungry leech," you think. There were hundreds of Google reviews for him, praising his services.

“Came to Geto-sama because of feelings of being touched and deflowered in my sleep, and at every point of my day. After paying a rather ridiculous but worthwhile fee, Geto-sama was able to make me feel better in a flash!” One review read.

“I had feelings of being drained and tired. My shoulders and body ached. Eventually, I was desperate enough to search online and found forums talking about his service. What do you know? He was able to help me in a flash—he is truly something!” Another read.

Each review detailed the wonders that he supposedly performed. “Everyone is saying he is something miraculous,” you comment before looking over at your now somewhat cold ramen noodles. You reach for them and start eating mindlessly.

Feelings.

As you wash your dishes, you can’t help but feel strange, as if something is in your apartment with you. You turn your eyes, scanning the dark, vacant front room, finding nothing out of the ordinary. So, you turn back to washing your dishes, but the feeling persists as you scrub. Eventually, you sigh, walking into the living room. Once there, you turn on a lamp in the corner, then go back to washing the dishes. But merely turning on the lamp was a short-lived comfort, as eventually the strange feeling manifests again—this time toward the hallway leading to your bedroom. If there was any way to describe this feeling, it would be that sense of paranoia when you’re alone in the house for the first time, thinking about all the what-ifs.

You scrub faster, rinse faster, and dry the dishes with a towel faster so you don’t have to stand with your back to your apartment any longer. You place the last bowl down with a rather hard slam onto the counter, making yourself jolt as you inspect the bowl to make sure you didn’t break it.

"I have to relax," you say out loud. "I’m scaring myself." You turn off the kitchen light and head to the hallway, but despite yourself, your eyes loom over the hallway, looking for anything amiss. You enter your bedroom, pull out some clothing, and head into the bathroom. As you scrub yourself with soap in the shower, that’s when it begins.

Soft buzzing.

"Where is that coming from?" you ask as you turn down the water and look around. "What the fuck..." You turn up the water and resume washing your body. Your fingers glide against your skin, scrubbing all the contours and dips of it until it’s time for the shampoo. You place some shampoo onto your palm and rub it in with both hands, closing your eyes as the buzzing continues. This time, however, you feel something—a presence behind you—as your back starts to feel colder.

As you scrub in the shampoo, your mind starts conjuring images of a pale woman with long, stringy black hair that covers some of her face. She stares at you from behind with large, hollowed eyes, sunken into her face. The lips and eye bags are bruised purple, and her teeth chatter. A cold breeze hits your back, causing you to quickly wash the shampoo from your hair. You turn around, catching yourself before you fall, only to see nothing. Hesitantly, you reach for the conditioner bottle and start rubbing it into your hair. You close your eyes once more, trying to avoid getting soap bubbles in them, but the feeling of being watched from behind returns. You couldn’t have shampooed and conditioned your hair faster than you did that night—faster than ever in your whole life. As you finish showering, you dry off.

After drying off, you enter your bedroom, clothed in pajama shorts and a tank top. You sit in bed and go onto your phone. Your eyes linger on his name in your search bar for a little while before you return to mindless scrolling. Every once in a while, you look around your room. Everything looks untouched and exactly the way you left it, but still, you feel like you aren’t the only one in your apartment. You sit up from your bed and start walking around your apartment, checking each corner and drawer, even making sure the windows are locked—though you’re on the third floor. Finally, you ensure the door is locked. You never miss locking it. You return to your room and lie in bed, focusing on trying to go to sleep.

Silence.

The auditorium is silent as Geto walks through the aisle, but his mind and thoughts are loud as they race. His eyes stray to the very seat where you were once sitting. He takes a deep, shaky breath.

"Manami!" he yells out.

"Yes, sir," Manami says as she comes over.

Geto smiles. "Bring in the cleaners, will you?" he says.

"Why, of course," Manami says as she leaves. Cleaners begin to shuffle in one by one, all kneeling before him as he grimaces.

"Monkeys," he says as he walks past the cleaners, who part for him. "Recently, we had a very vile situation happen to us," he says, his lips curling with disgust. "Another one of you monkeys infiltrated my auditorium and tainted it with their lowly, disgusting presence." He turns and stands before them. "This auditorium needs to be cleansed of her presence, and while..." he pauses, his eyes scanning their faces, "I would rather not place this task on you all," he sneers, "I have no choice, as I would never wish for any of my family, who are truly worthy, to be on their knees scrubbing."

A cleaner steps forward. "So you're placing it on us, Geto-sama? Aren't we family too?"

His eyes narrow at them. "I am, and you are to do as you're told."

"But aren’t we your family as well? So why should we be—" Without a word, they are crushed by a cursed spirit.

"The audacity. Do you have any more questions?" he asks roughly, glaring at the group. Some cleaners let out gasps of surprise and fear, while those close to the crushed cleaner tremble, staring at their bloodied hands and clothing.

"Get to scrubbing," he says as he leaves the auditorium, flicking off a spatter of red fluid from the apple of his cheek. The cleaners immediately start scrubbing. "And don’t you dare ever forget your places, filth," his voice echoes in the auditorium.

Geto turns to Manami, who stands by the door frame outside the auditorium. "I will be changing into a new robe. Tell the family I’ll be in later," he says with a smile and light chuckle as he starts his walk to his chambers. Manami agrees and heads toward the dining hall. Geto closes the door and starts disrobing. He places his robe in the hamper for someone to wash, then dresses in another robe before heading to the dining hall, which is full of banter and the noise of his family.

"Hello, my family," he says, his ears perking at the greetings he receives. "Today we are joined together to enjoy another meal made by our kitchen staff." He sits at the head of the table. All eyes are on him as his gaze moves across the crowd, landing on Ume seated at the far end of the table. Unlike the others, she does not have a plate of food before her.

Geto sighs almost empathetically. "As some may notice, a member of our family does not have a plate of food," he says as the crowd shifts their attention to Ume. "I know it is not lost on any of us why she has no plate." The crowd murmurs in agreement.

"Let this be a lesson for everyone here," Geto says, looking at his plate. "This food is sacred and fuels you for the day. However, it is for the worthy and the most loyal to us." He pauses as the crowd rings out their own mantras of hate and disgust against non-sorcerers. "Now, let’s wish your fellow sister learns her lesson, so I don’t have to do this ever again." He frowns, and everyone goes silent in the dining room, giving their wishes.

"This may be hurting you," Geto says, breaking the silence, "but it hurts me more." Everyone looks to Geto at his saddened tone.

"We would never, Geto-sama!" another member says.

"Love to the strong, hate to the weak," someone else adds, referencing the scrolls. Geto’s eyes move to Ume, who is looking down at the table.

"Ume," Geto says, "why are you looking at the linen on the table? Shouldn’t your eyes be on the food?" he asks. Ume looks at him, then the food. "I said you couldn’t eat, not that you couldn’t look." Geto gives a light smile. "Maybe if you look hard enough, you’ll feel full." He chuckles, and the rest of the group mirrors his laughter toward Ume.

"Perhaps Geto-sama should remind you of when our quarters' sleeping time is," a member says to Ume, who bites back a sharp retort before replying.

"Our sleeping time is at 8:30 p.m.," Ume says.

Geto hums in approval. "And your wake time?"

"5:30 a.m.," Ume and the rest of the group reply in unison.

Geto nods. "And in the meantime, I expect things to be done, and that is...?"

"Beds to be made with new sheets and pillowcases, us to be changed into our clothing, mantras of the day done, and to be down for breakfast at 9:00 a.m.," Ume answers.

Geto nods in approval. "And if you are not following the right morning routine?"

"No breakfast," the crowd replies.

"And it’s only for?"

"Our own good," the crowd echoes.

"Very well, then," Geto says. "Let’s feast."

Maybe one day I will do my own little Suguru Geto Cult Rule Book lmaoooo

Did we ever get a name for the little group Geto has because I don't want to just have it as the Star Religious whatever but I want like a cool little cult name maybe I'll think one up for them something like "The Ascended Star Order"

[bbylenswrld]

What if?

What if we were just best friends? Could we be just friends? With so much sexual tension you could cut it with a knife. How everything around you almost disappeared when you looked into his eyes and had a full conversation with him. How you sometimes avoided conversation with him so that you didn’t have to feel that weird ass fuzzy hot feeling.

Never knowing if you looked presentable enough or if you had boogers in your nose or if your mascara smeared. Never being able to stay in his intense gaze for longer that 5 minutes for fear of your legs giving out. How when he hugged you and held you and didn’t let go, you had to hold you breathe from fear he might sense that thing in you.

That fucking thing that burns inside you and swooshes around and glimmers in your eyes and heart when he’s in the room. How you want him there every time and when he’s not your day and mood gets thrown just a smidge.

How you want to sit next to him so bad it itches at you but you know you shouldn’t and that he won’t, so you sit a row or two in front of him. Hoping it’s his eyes you feel blazing into your back. How every time you laugh you look back wanting to share that laughter.. with him. Wanting to see that stupid smile and laugh on his face as well.

How you look at him at times and feel and see the true pain in his eyes. How he masks it all with a laugh or an I don’t give a fuck attitude. How you wish and pray he would open those doors and chained up walls and truly let himself be. How you know it might kill him to do so. From all the pain and hurt he’s endured.

Then the what ifs begin.

What if it was just you and him in the small room after everyone left. Sitting across from each other, eyes locked no words being spoken but everything being said in those eyes and on your face.

What if for me he will? What if he lets me in? What if we became friends? Special friends. Not the friends with benefits special but the kind of special you can’t seem to stay away from. The one that doesn’t have to speak or do anything but simply be present and that would be all you need. The understanding running so deep in your eyes and veins that no words would ever be enough to describe.

The one that can call and text you whenever and can talk you into and out of something for your best interest, never theirs. The one where you sit in a car and have an awkward as conversation about what you are and where it’s going. Because although your best friends and have never once done anything, besides a small hug and smack on the shoulder doesn’t mean you don’t ache for it every time your in their presence. Or when they leave and it’s just you in your thoughts replaying the damn conversation and body language you read and more than likely misinterpreted. Clouded by your own tradious thoughts and wishes.

What if I’m imagining everything because I’m reading a romantic, smutty ass book and I just want you to pin me against the wall and kiss my neck while you whisper dirty things to me.

What if it’s just me feeling all these things and you’re just being “nice”.

What if what if I’m just jealous you payed more attention to her and didn’t to me? Even though I ached for you to direct that comment towards me I knew it was for her. Maybe my dumbass started believing in us at this moment. That slight 5% possibility sent my thoughts into a frenzy. Made my mind go sick. The realization of us even being a possibility because you think like me too. Because a speck of that idea had crossed my mind but I never let it land until then. And mother help me because it hasn’t left since.

What if you see me as a child and nothing more? In all honesty though you have a young vibe a and I have a mature one so I think we’d even out and the age gap wouldn’t be a problem on my part. But do you see me as a child? Are you scared?

Man I wish we could just say how we feel. But we both know that we can’t. It would ruin everything.

So for now we keep the what ifs as what ifs and nothing more. <\3

[unwrittenlibrary]

how she loves (like sleep to the freezing)

summary -> “Sometimes Bucky will catch glimpses of who he used to be in the mirror. They’re like silent movies that play as he stares at his reflection. A boy with bright eyes and even brighter smiles that can only see the good in the world. He’s struck with how warm he used to be when these memories play. Then he blinks and they’re gone, all that’s left is a cold man staring back at him whose eyes appear empty and smiles have almost disappeared.”

or; bucky has been cold for a long time and you’re unbelievably warm.

warnings -> not beta’d, nicknames (sunshine/blossom), a lot of allusions to coldness, bucky is lonely & reader is kind. implied that the avengers live in a building together

words -> 2.0k

notes -> tried out a different writing style with this one, a bit of bucky’s thoughts instead of the reader. i hope you enjoy 🥺 title from cherry wine by hozier. can u tell i love him

— ➶ —

Bucky has felt cold for a long time. He feels like the dead of winter.

A kind of cold that just settles. One that doesn’t bite against your skin harshly but instead, it pricks and prods constantly reminding you of an absence of warmth.

He’s felt cold for so long that a semblance of warmth is unknown to him.

The way you radiate warmth is a curiosity and fact in the oddest ways. It’s constant in a way that Bucky can’t comprehend, but always shown through sunshine filled smiles and gentle eyes.

“Hi, Bucky.” You murmur sweetly as you make your way through the gym. It’s empty, you and Bucky the only two occupants, and Bucky feels heat rise to his cheeks.

He nods in response before turning back to the punching bag.

Bucky has know cold for so long he doesn’t know to react to warmth. He sticks to awkward smiles and short nods so you know he’s not ignoring you.

Maybe one day he would feel thawed enough to force the words he so desperately wants to say in return out.

➶

Sometimes Bucky will catch glimpses of who he used to be in the mirror. They’re like silent movies that play as he stares at his reflection. A boy with bright eyes and brighter smiles that can only see the good in the world. He’s struck with how warm he used to be when these memories play. Then he blinks and they’re gone, all that’s left is a cold man staring back at him whose eyes appear empty and smiles have almost disappeared. 

He thinks he would have had a chance with you back then. Imagines your lips painted red and a navy blue skirt while he wears his uniform with pride. Bucky would have taken you dancing and the two of you would have been warmer than the sun together. 

Maybe that’s what hurts the most about the memories. Now that Bucky has them back he can see the missing pieces that Steve tries to pretend he doesn’t miss. Bucky can see parts of who he used to be in the memories, parts that he’s unsure he’ll ever get back. 

He tries though. In the ways he knows how. He cuts his hair and Steve’s excited smile is worth how lost Bucky feels with when he goes to tug nervously at the locks only to find they’re no longer there.

He trains with Sam. It’s obvious Sam feels better when he can help and Bucky doesn’t want to be a burden on Steve’s found family, so he lets Sam show him moves and technology that can help in fights Bucky isn’t sure he wants to be a part of.

Sometimes though, when the memories are too much and he feels frozen, Bucky needs a break.

You seem to appear at these times. Almost like you know Bucky’s grown colder and needs something to ground him to earth.

“You okay, Buck?” You ask gently tone like honey as you move around the kitchen. He nods slowly as his eyes fall to the table in front of him.

You don’t realize it, but the honey drips down Bucky’s fingertips and brings feeling back to his frozen limbs. “I’m okay, sunshine.”

Your returning grin is bright and contagious as you settle in beside Bucky at the kitchen’s island. You’re content to sit in silence and Bucky is content to bask in your glow.

Maybe one day you would know. Maybe you wouldn’t. Bucky was starting to worry less about what ifs.

➶

Steve runs like a furnace and a jealousy as green as ivy consumes Bucky when they’re in each other’s space.

It’s wrong to be jealous of Steve when for so long Steve had been the one who froze and shivered without complaint.

But when Bucky feels the heat of Steve hit him it makes him feel sick. Steve doesn’t have the same sweet as honey tone of voice or the same warmth you do. Steve’s heat doesn’t thaw Bucky out it only reminds him of the past that makes him feel colder.

“Are you okay, Bucky?” Steve’s hand slaps Bucky’s shoulder and burns. Bucky winces, it’s not the burn of a fire but the burn you feel when your hand touches snow for a second too long and his whole body recoils.

The hurt in Steve’s eyes is enough to make guilt claw its way up Bucky’s throat, but the words are frozen on his tongue. How can he explain this? How can Bucky explain that he feels like he’s never really left that ice Hydra forced him into?

“You know,” Bucky coughs awkwardly, “my shoulder. They fucked it up.” Steve’s shoulders sag with relief and his hand rests on Bucky’s right shoulder this time.

It still burns. Bucky has learned to tense his jaw and bear it.

Steve’s so happy to have, really have, Bucky back that there are things he lets slip through the cracks. Expressions he would have noticed in the forties and ticks Bucky still has.

Your hand replaces Steve’s as you step in between the two, like you know Bucky’s shoulder is hypothermic and your touch is all that can save it from turning black and blue.

“You’re okay.” You whisper without looking at him. Steve grins at Bucky, one that says he thinks there’s more to your appearance than you just wanting to help Bucky. “What’s wrong?”

Bucky shrugs.

There are no words to explain that your touch is like his saving grace.

➶

“Bucky,” your fingers card through his hair in an attempt to wake him up, “you awake?” He’s not used to the short hair yet, but you seem to like how easily your fingers glide through it.

Yes. Bucky doesn’t open his eyes. He just makes sure to keep his breathing even as he feels a fingertip trail over his cheek.

Your touch never burns. It’s a relief. When your hand rests on her shoulder or your knuckles brush over his cheekbone, Bucky feels warm. The only way he could ever describe it to somebody who asked was the first day of Spring. The first real day of spring, when all the snow of winter has melted and flowers are peeking through the dirt again.

“I know you’re awake because you’ve got a stupid smile on your face,” you chastise with no real anger in your tone. Bucky cracks an eye open and finds you looking down at him with a grin. “What’s got you smiling like that?”

You. It’s always you. “Dreaming of something beautiful.” Bucky says softly. Your hand rests against his cheek and he feels both his cheeks heat up with a blush. He briefly wonders if you can feel the heat against the palm of your hand.

“Must have been a good dream,” you murmur, “if it’s got you smiling like that.”

You drop your hand and despite to absence of your touch, Bucky still feels warm. There’s no other way to describe it, but Bucky thinks putting it simply is best. “Yeah,” Bucky says softly as his eyes trail over you, “it was.”

“A smile is a good look on you, Barnes.” You say earnestly, a bright smile of your own gracing your face.

As Bucky watches you walk away, he feels lighter too, like something is changing in him.

➶

Bucky’s learning how to feel warm again. Smiles and laughter that makes Steve’s eyes crinkle when he hears and your eyes widen in amusement.

He never wanted to feel cold, but he’ll admit he wallowed in the feeling. He let it settle over him without a fight, lucky to have someone as warm as you in his presence. Someone whose warmth melted his ice without even really trying,

“You’ve been happier lately,” you whisper. There’s a hesitance in your tone, like you’re afraid the words may upset Bucky.

Bucky nods. His head is resting against the back of the couch as he looks at you, your cheek resting against the palm of your hand as you look down at him curiously. “I’ve felt warm.” Bucky admits.

“Warm?” Your brows furrow in confusion. Bucky’s hand is resting on the cushion between you two. He inches in closer to your knee as the two of you watch one another.

Bucky supposes now is as good a time as any to tell you. “I’ve felt cold. For a long, long time. I can’t really explain it, but I know I’m finally starting to feel warm again.”

“Warm again,” you mutter as your hand meets his halfway, “that sounds lovely.” Your fingers follow a path over his palm before Bucky captures them in his.

He can feel himself blush, he seems to do it a lot around you. “You make me feel warm again,” there’s nobody else in the room, but Bucky keeps his voice at a whisper, “like spring.”

“Spring,” you repeat in a low tone, “you make me feel like Spring too, Bucky.” And you smile, one as bright as the sun, and Bucky is happy to soak in it.

➶

He’s learning that in warmth there is comfort. Bucky’s learned a lot, actually, and he’s starting to realize while he may never feel like the bright light he was in the forties, he can grow into something just as warm. Now there are more days than not where his feet no longer feel stuck to the ground and he can feel his eyes light up.

He wants to share it with you and he’s getting comfortable enough to do so. He wants you to see his spring and watch him grow and if your warmth is included in that he wants it to be because it’s what you want, not because you feel obligated to.

Not that you’d ever implied you did. Bucky just worries.

“Sunshine,” Bucky grins as you come to a stop in front of him, “you look beautiful.” You’re wearing a lovely, emerald green gown that flows to your feet.

“Thanks, blossom.” Your eyes shine with mirth as you say it and a Bucky is sure his cheeks have turned a bright shade of red in response. “I have a gift for you.”

Bucky’s eyes widen as you hand over a thin box. “What is it?” He asks automatically as he begins to pull the tape holding the lid closed off.

“Open it!” You urge. Bucky pulls the lid off and his eyes widen when he sees the emerald green tie. The one he had on now was a plain black, meant to compliment you and not clash with your dress color.

Your eyes are watching him curiously, waiting for a response, but Bucky can’t get any words out. There are butterflies in his stomach that make it hard to breathe. “Do you… Is it okay?” You ask quietly after a moment.

“Yeah. Yes!” Bucky looks at you with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. “I love it,” he starts quietly, “will you help me put it on?”

Your eyes widen this time, but you nod and Bucky moves to pull his black tie off quickly. You don’t ask why he needs your help with this tie and not the black one and Bucky appreciates it as you slide the green around his neck.

You take a step closer and Bucky’s breath hitches as you being to slowly knot the tie around his neck. He had grown used to you and your warmth in his space, but this felt different. The air between you two felt charged. Bucky’s eyes trail over your face admiringly as you focused on the task in front of you.

“Sunshine,” Bucky starts in a whisper. Your eyes snap to his, your hands still resting on his chest. “I-“

“I know,” you murmur. Your palms flatten against his chest as you tilt your head up towards him. Bucky doesn’t have the chance to say anything else because you press a soft kiss against his lips.

It’s a blink and you miss it type kiss. By the time Bucky registers that you’re kissing him, you’ve pulled away to look at him with gleeful eyes.

“We promised Steve we wouldn’t be late,” You take an agonizingly slow step away, “and I keep promises.”

Bucky slips his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers together, and allows you to pull him down the hallway.

It’s the dead of winter, but Bucky feels like summer.

— ➶ —

notes -> not too sure how i feel about this… definitely something different. i feel like my writing has been subpar lately…. idk! have a great night 💗 or day!

if you enjoyed reblogs are greatly appreciated 🥺

[haik-choo]

I don't write cause I feel I don't have a good grasp on the characters personalities etc, the characterisation of akaashi post is so helpful! 👀👀 Would you do kuroo or bokuto?

a/n: I hope you like both of these! again, if yall want me to do others, let me know! these are across the span of their life, so some may seem college-related and some may seem young-adulty! 

[MISCHARACTERIZATIONS OF BOKUTO AND KUROO]

bokuto kotaro.

clueless: i’ve stated this in akaashi’s post, but bokuto is extremely emotionally intelligent. he can pick up on the slightest changes in people’s demeanor or posture, he can tell if someone is sad or happy even if they aren’t good at displaying emotions. he’s not a dumbass -- and he can pick up on others’ limits and boundaries very quickly. despite his ability to read people relatively well, he has no qualms about pushing people out of their comfort zones and forcing them to do things they might hate at first, but will love later. he pushes boundaries according to your comfort level, and respects your hard limits. 

only positive: a lot of people write bokuto to be someone ho’s only happy-go-lucky, or someone who rarely gets sad (aside from his moods that are less sad and more discouraged), but I think that almost dehumanizes him. he gets back up faster than most, yes, and at the end of a lost game where everyone is crying, bokuto is dry-eyed. he’s the type to get home and plop down on his bed, face-first into his pillow, lips quivering and eyes lightly watering. there are times where he feels insecure, especially when he’s younger, just because he can tell he’s different from the rest. he has a feeling that people are put-off from his personality, he has a feeling that he’s not as (traditionally/academically) smart as everyone else, he has a feeling that some people find him annoying. that’s why when he’s near his close friends he’s very loose -- he doesn’t feel the need to hold back even a little because he knows that they love him for him. this translates to his toxic trait with his lover being that he feels dejected/insecure if you ever want space. while he can read boundaries, he would really benefit from a lover who has just as few as he, because then he can be his truest self.

love-at-first-sight: he’s not the type to fall in love at one glance, he’s just not. yes, he might get interested or you may catch his attention, but he’s not going to fall in love with someone because they have a pretty smile. it’s not that he’s calculated or over-thinks his emotions, he knows exactly what he feels, it’s just that his heart is a little slow when it comes to falling in love. he’s such an energetic all-over-the-place person that love is never really on his mind (he gets into some trouble with accidentally leading girls on because he’s so friendly). when he eventually falls in love, though....oh boy. he stutters, he’s over-thinking all his movements when it comes to you -- he’s usually impulsive but with you he really, really doesn’t want to screw up. he wants everything to go smoothly -- so he’s the type to plan out a confession and actually try to stick to it. when it comes to something like love, bokuto is surprisingly slow and careful, because he knows how fragile a heart is. 

never gets angry: i think most people like to imagine his anger is so rare because the image of an angry bokuto is scary, especially with his stature. and while it’s true his anger is uncommon (because he’s good at processing his own emotions and not lashing out at others), when he does get angry it can be pretty unnerving. he’s the type to slam his fist on the counter unknowingly when having a really bad fight with his lover, and he has a booming voice. he’d never hit someone, but he doesn’t realize how intimidating his physique is. anger is uncommon, but that doesn’t mean he’s not scary. he always apologize afterwards, though.

boundless confidence: i touched on it earlier, that he has bouts of insecurity, but again, i really want to emphasize that he’s not endlessly confident. honestly, maybe in the anime and manga he seems that way, but if you want to make him more human, have more life than a fictional character, you have to create limits or certain traits. bokuto is very sensitive, and the slightest thing can either inflate his ego or deflate it. plays in volleyball constantly not working may dig at his confidence, but he always re-inflates. in real life, outside the court, there are things that keep his confidence low everytime they happen. fights with his lover are one of these things; he’ll get jealous when they leave the apartment after a fight because he’ll worry about you finding someone more stable than him. jealousy alone is a solid sign of chipped confidence, something that someone as sensitive as bokuto gets every once in a while. 

overall, bokuto is a lot more intelligent than what people give him credit for. he’s honest with his own emotions and can read people very well, which is probably why he’s such a people person, but he still has flaws. he does not have boundless confidence or have no perception of boundaries; he’s unbelievably understanding. he may be initially insecure, have intimidating anger, etc. but ,after all, he’s human, isn’t he? 

kuroo tetsuro. 

sex god: don’t get me wrong, I definitely believe that he’s had a lover or two, especially in college, and that he’s played the field a little bit. but i don’t see him as the guy that has had sex with every person in his major. he’s a genuine guy and can’t have sex with someone he’s not emotionally invested in -- despite not being a ‘player’, he’s totally gotten in trouble with a few people because they think he’s leading them on when he walks with them to class everyday. 

intimidating: people always characterize him as this mysterious, sexually intimidating guy, but i just can’t see him as someone intimidating. if anything, he may be a little unapproachable because he has a really tight knit group of friends that he’s always with, but he’s not scary. he’s not the center of attention but he’s not a wallflower either, he enjoys observing people and watching drama play out, but he’s not silent and glaring all the time. he’s quite fun, he’s loud, and he enjoys embarrassing his friends in public. he’s the type to twerk in public and laugh his ass off when akaashi or kenma give him the side-eye and bro-kuto joins in. he likes to have fun, ya know? i don’t know about you, but a guy that twerks in public isn’t very scary, to me at least. 

prideful: I understand why people paint him as a prideful guy, he obviously likes what he does and has a personable personality, but honestly, he’s not perfect. he often has moments where he doubts himself because of his past decisions, his career one of them. kuroo is an amazing middle blocker, and his choice to go into sports advertisement rather than an actual volleyball league no doubt haunts him at night sometimes. he thinks of the ‘what-ifs’, and he dreams of what he could be. especially since his best friend is bokuto, a professional player, it’s often on his mind. it’s a super touchy subject for him, and if someone were to question his job-choice i have no doubt that he’d get really sour and distant from that person because he’s not sure of himself either. 

frat boy: he’s not someone who can’t cook, he’s not someone who sleeps at 5am everyday, hungover. he’s not the type of person to be immature in any way -- he’s got his shit together. i’m sure most people can actually see this, but kuroo is very responsible and realistic (which is part of the reason he didn’t do professional volleyball). he does his taxes, does his homework, gives out good advice, gets up early and eats everything that a healthy person should eat (in all the right proportions, too). he doesn’t even drink often, if anything he’s just a social drinker. he goes to bed at 10pm and wakes up at 6am to work out, no joke. he’s gotta keep that physique somehow. 

decisive: i know i said he’s responsible, but i don’t think that translates to decisive. i can see him having a lot of conflicting things going on in his life, different wants and different paths that he wants to take but can’t keep all open. it happens in love, his career, his college major, etc. he wants a lot in life, he wants success, happiness, a good love-life, everything. when he had to choose between volleyball and a life-long, stable career, he was broken for weeks. was he good enough for his dream? was it wise to chase his dream? would it be better to get more kids into volleyball, do what he did, what he couldn’t do? in his love life he always hesitates, too: does he see a life with them? how long will they love him? will they be able to deal with him once they see that he’s not perfect? is it worth it? it doesn’t matter if he’s in love or not, because his extreme caution can come off as very distant and unwilling to let you in, hence his toxic trait. he’s indecisive, scared, yet passionate and hard-working. 

overall, kuroo is full of contradiction. he wants a lot from life and is willing to work for it. he has dreams and tries to stay healthy and put himself out there, have fun, the whole shabang -- but he’s not perfect. he’s overly cautious when it comes to making important decisions simply because he can see a future with all of the different paths he can take. but honestly, isn’t everyone a little contradictory? 

[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.  

[evieonic]

Domestic life Soukoku family Headcanons

So my friend has dazai and chuuya in their sims 4 game and they made them have a child and listen- 

domestic soukoku family is always one of my favorite things SO HERE ARE SOME GOOD OL FLUFFY HEADCANONS FOR THEM!

First things first, if this was a modern AU in which Dazai and Chuuya adopted a child, I feel like as soon as they meet that child and they adopt them, they write down that day and celebrate the day they officially became a family with that child. So like lil soukoku baby gets like two birthdays because Dazai and Chuuya find that day to be so special. 

Chuuya is definitely a very easy going parent, and although he has his moments where he can be strict and the level-headed parent, he’s actually really silly and laidback when it comes to kids. He falters to puppy dogs eyes and when his child cries, he has a hard time trying to keep his foot down.

Dazai is similar to Chuuya, he’s also a very easy going parent - but tOO MUCH. It oftentimes feels like Chuuya is raising two kids instead of one because Dazai is so wild and crazy but despite that, Chuuya knows Dazai is a good parent. He’s more capable of putting his foot down when he needs to or having to tell his child off even though he doesn’t want to.

Now, this is Dazai we’re talking about and of course, he is very protective. He’s crazy protective over his family - it sometimes gets out of control and Chuuya needs to talk to him about it - but Dazai is very protective of his family. There is nothing in this world he would not do for them. 

And while yes Dazai is crazy protective, so is Chuuya. Chuuya is very protective over his child, sometimes he’ll get scared and freak out about things and when he does Dazai needs to calm him down. You might think they both have zero chill because of how protective they are but like Chuuya was in the mafia and so was Dazai at one point, they know how the world can operate, so they are always thinking of the what ifs so that makes them worry a lot more than they should.

Y e s. Dazai does get jealous of his own child sometimes when Chuuya is giving them a lot of attention - i mean c’mon. Dazai is a big baby himself, he NEEDS attention and he has gotten really jealous before and he lets Chuuya know it (and when he does Chuuya grounds him, yes, i mean he sends him into time out, he ain’t afraid to do that.) 

Dazai actually is the first one to wake up in the household, so he prepares breakfast for both his husband and his child. On weekends, Chuuya gets to sleep in, so he wakes up their child and treats it as if they are both being sneaky which makes their child act very giddy and excited. Dazai will let their child have things Chuuya is usually very careful of, like coffee and sugary things during breakfast. Dazai also sometimes wakes up their child a little bit earlier so they can help him make breakfast to give to Chuuya in bed. 

Chuuya sings their child to sleep whenever they are too scared or are unable to fall asleep by themselves. So he will sing to them and Dazai will be in there with them, kind of snuggling the both of them. Whenever their child needs them, it’s always a group effort type of thing because they want their child to know even through the smallest of gestures, they are a family and both of them will always be there for them.

Sometimes though, their child just can’t fall asleep. When that happens, they’ll get up in the middle of the night and sneak into their parents bed. Sometimes, the child wakes up when Dazai or Chuuya is already awake. When that happens, if it’s Dazai, Dazai will let them sit with him and watch TV for a few minutes. The child usually falls asleep eventually if they just sit with Dazai for a while. If it’s Chuuya who's awake, he makes the child some milk and they sit down on the couch and Chuuya quietly reads a book to them and eventually, they fall asleep that way.

Dazai buys their child toys all the freaking time. He comes home from work with a new toy every day and it makes Chuuya so mad every time. XD It’s not like Chuuya doesn’t want their child to have a lot of toys, it’s just tHEY DON’T NEED SO MANY - THEIR ROOM CANT HOLD ALL OF THEM.

Dazai and Chuuya try very hard to raise their child to be a good person. They want them to know that everyone deserves love and everyone is equal and beautiful in their own ways. They try to teach their child early on that things like gender and attraction are concepts that are different for everyone, so if their child comes to realize that they love someone of the same sex, or they like people off of their personalities not genders, or they don’t feel like the gender that they are - they make sure that they know that that’s okay. Everyone is valid and no matter who their child grows up to be, they will always love them.

That's all I got for now. Let me know if y’all want some more or maybe an omegaverse version of this one. Requests are still open both for headcanons and prompts :D

[bluegarners]

hiya @viceturtle! I finally got it done! Here is your Bad Things Happen Bingo request with Dick and Jason; you can also read it on ao3

What Have I Done?

It’s a lot. He’s not going to lie.

Dick was dead for eight months. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. It was a fact that they were all forced to deal with, all forced to live with. Dick was dead and there was nothing any of them could do about it. And for a time, Jason had held onto the small belief, he’s not going to call it hope, that Dick had somehow managed to pull through. That even despite the beatings, the torture, everything before and after it, Dick had managed to pull through and come out of it all alive.

But he hadn’t. That was the thing, at its core. Dick died. 

Jason knows what it is to be dead. To be beaten and left to die. To struggle and still search for a way out of the shit hole you’re suddenly in and cling to that light, that stupid, stupid promise in the back of your head that screams, Help is coming, just hold on a little longer, that forces you to keep struggling, keep surviving, keep hoping for a way out despite the circumstances. Jason knows and it absolutely sucked. 

He died and then clawed his way out of his own coffin. One of his fingers is permanently misshapen, wood chips and metal piercing through his stiff and cold skin. He’s got scars all over his body to prove that he died, to prove that he was beaten with a crowbar, messed around with like he was just some dummy, some thing that could take a beating and then some. Up and down and across and lined; the scars are all over him and he died.

And Dick died too. 

In those eight months, Jason felt more connected to his deceased older brother than he ever had before. A deep and twisted connection over a shared death, a similar fate so convoluted it makes Jason sick to think about sometimes. His murderer is still out there. Jason has to live with that fact and even though it’s not fine and things would be so much easier without that psychopath, Jason gets it. Sometimes. Gets the moral code, the compass, that shrouds Batman and his little followers.

And he’s trying. He is. He made an effort to try and do the right thing when Dick died because suddenly, the role of older brother had fallen onto him and even though he doesn’t have a good relationship with Tim or the recently resurrected Damian, or anyone for that matter, there was still that recognition that it was all on him now. He was the eldest. He was the one to look towards. Not look up to, no, he will never claim the title of a role model, but now he’s the oldest, the most experienced, the next in line when one just can’t go to Bruce about shit going on.

The point being is that he did try, put in more effort than he probably should have, to stepping up to the plate and taking a swing at being better. At being the eldest of the entire brood and not fucking it up horribly. He switches to rubber bullets and smoke pellets. He keeps his excessive violence reserved for only the worst scum and even then still attempts to steer clear from Batman’s territories. He takes care of the Narrows, rekindles a sort of friendship with Tim, doesn’t fight the literal child that lurks in the Cave, and avoids confrontations with Bruce altogether.

It works and it’s good. He steps up, frankly owns being the eldest, and he’s fine. He’s fine with it. He’s still got his reputation intact, Red Robin isn’t terrified of his presence any longer, and Robin doesn’t pull a sword every time they spot one another. So what if he slips up occasionally and gets carried away? They’re just rubber bullets, weapons all the same, and they’re no different from getting hit with Batman’s fist (which Jason knows, from experience, hurts like hell) or getting swung at with a large knife. 

He had a thing going on, is what Jason’s trying to get at, and then Dick showed up.

Dick. Richard Grayson. Who died eight months ago after he was tortured by the Syndicate and had his heart stopped by Lex Luthor. Who they had a funeral for. Who they mourned for. Who Jason had attempted to fill the gaping hole he had left behind.

Who Jason thought had died.

Betrayal is a word Jason feels like he could apply to a majority of his life. Betrayal from his parents, his poor, poor mother who just couldn’t muster up enough fucks. Bruce, Batman, for getting him into the vigilante life, for letting him wear that damn costume and get himself blown up for all his efforts. Talia, for restoring his mind after he was supposed to be dead. Bruce, Batman, again, for letting his murderer walk around like it was another Sunday, any other day, just a nice, normal day for a stroll like he didn’t just kill Bruce’s own son-

Yeah, Jason feels like he has liberal use of betrayal. It’s just an old song he hums sometimes and lets others join in occasionally.

But there was an unspoken code, a silent right-of-passage, when it came to being Robin. A mutual understanding of sorts. You don’t back-stab another Robin. Ever. You don’t lie, cheat out, betray a fellow Robin. There were too many shared experiences when it came to being Batman’s, Bruce’s, Robin and that ultimately revolved all back to trust and knowing that things were still the same despite all these years. Being Robin was both the best thing to ever happen to someone and also the ultimate death sentence. You don’t just get to be Robin either. You’ve got to earn it, to prove yourself, to show that you can take it all on, to keep up with Batman and the ever changing and violent Gotham.

So, when Dick shows up with an apology on his lips and the expectation of being welcomed home after all this time, Jason punches him square in the jaw. It’s surreal, a part of him thinking his fist will just phase right through the man’s face, but his knuckles connect and if the sound of his fist against Dick’s jaw isn’t the most satisfying and cruel thing he’s ever heard, Jason doesn’t know what is. 

It’s agony, nearly, to see the red blossom on his older brother’s cheek because, holy hell, that means it’s all real. That Dick is really alive and not still buried in that weed covered yard with decaying roses scattered on top of it. Dick is alive and Jason is furious because he’s supposed to be dead and Jason already tried so hard to fill the other man’s impossibly huge shoes and he was doing a damn good job at it. He likes to think so, at least.

But who cares, right? Who gives a shit when Dick is back now and it was all for nothing? Everyone can just go back to their normal routines now that the star player is back and they don’t need a fill-in like Jason to stick around. All that effort, all that time, all that trying all summing up into one big, Surprise, I’m not dead, from the man of the hour himself.

Jason avoids Dick after that. The man said he wasn’t staying long, just “checking in” with everyone like he was just on some business call for a few months and not dead. 

And that’s the root of it, Jason thinks. That’s what really gnaws at him because Dick is treating the whole situation exactly like he was on some extended vacation and just forgot to tell anyone where he was going. Not like his absence literally turned their entire world upside down. Not like the loss, the emptiness, that literally echoed everywhere Jason went was consuming and terrifying. In those eight months, Jason had to toe the line between being the eldest and maintaining his identity as Red Hood, and that’s where Jason truly felt close to Dick. Felt like he finally got what Dick and Bruce’s arguments were about so many years ago, this constant war of wanting to be better, wanting to have freedom, wanting to stay yourself when there was a constant war of others trying to get you to fill a role that you don’t want. 

Finally, Jason felt like he had some other important connection to his elusive older brother that had nothing to do with the man that housed them, only for it all to be thrown across the room and into the trash. 

To keep it simple, bare-bones, really dumbed down, Dick lied. About being dead, of all things. Jason can get behind needing to lay low after all that, being stripped of your identity on live television wasn’t exactly great for their kind of lifestyle, but to just leave? To go out on some mission and leave the rest of them out to dry like that? No warning, no hints, no notes, nothing? God, at least Jason made an appearance. Granted, not the best sort of re-introduction, but at least he wasn’t trying to hide.

To say the least, Jason is hurting. The anger faded along with any sort of need to prove to Dick that he had stepped up when he left. Now, he just feels… shitty. In a way, this is what he had been half-way expecting. No one stays dead in this business. There is always someone with a back-up or ex-machina to save the day and bring back a fallen hero, villain, whatever. But there had just been something so final, so human in Dick’s death. In that moment, seeing the mask ripped off, seeing his brother’s face on T.V out of context, away from the normal flashiness that was being related to a billionaire, it had scared Jason because that was his brother, Dick Grayson, world’s most annoying man in the universe, on T.V; beaten, bloodied, bruised, and humiliated for everyone to see.

He’s always been jealous of how clean and clear Dick’s eyes looked. Just a simple and rare shade of blue, obnoxiously bright and searching. Jason’s mother used to say he had his father’s eyes, a muddy mix of blue and green. He’s never liked his eyes, but there was always something so attention grabbing with Dick’s. Seeing them on T.V, wide and blood-shot and bruised to hell; the blue was out of place and humanizing in a way that Jason just couldn't describe because it was simply Dick Grayson there. Not Nightwing. Not a hero. It was just Dick Grayson, world’s worst older brother ever, looking lost, defiant, and defeated all at once.

And that hurt.

The man is like some nasty disease that won’t leave him alone though. Their first meeting was two days ago and Jason is trying his best to ignore the knife in his chest, not literally, when Dick shows up. Just outside the Narrows on the roof of a bodega, Dick appears from where ever the fuck he’s been and walks over to Jason. It’s a cue, Jason knows, when thunder rumbles in the distance and if he were a bit more into literature, feeling a bit more melancholy for his freshman year of high school, Jason would say that a storm is coming for the both of them, not just Gotham.

Dick walks with his hands in his pockets, stuffed inside an old brown jacket that looks well-used and well-loved. Jason’s never seen the jacket before. Must’ve gotten it on his extended vacation. A part of Jason knows that Bruce was in on it too, that Bruce probably deserves just as much anger he’s dishing out towards Dick, maybe even more, but Jason’s tired of trying to play nice and get along. Dick is the one in front of him now, right here on a Wednesday night with the glowing, neon advertisement for Coke singing behind their heads and a run down, twenty year old convenience shop beneath their feet. 

Dick is here and now when he should be dead.

Just like Jason should be.

“What do you want?” he asks, the metallic tin of his voice modulator diminishing some of the threat. It’s a known fact that Red Hood guards his territory with a viciousness rivaling a rabid dog. Outsiders aren’t welcome. Never welcome.

In contrast, Dick is mask-less. Civilian. Same clear blue eyes from eight months ago that were sealed shut the last time Jason saw them. A dark bruise stains Dick’s right cheekbone, the shape of knuckles and betrayal. It’s a good contrast.

“I came to say goodbye,” the other man answers, stopping just short of six feet in front of Jason, “and that I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner. I really am,” he insists when Jason remains silent. “Things just… happened too fast. It killed me to be away from you all for so long. I wanted to tell you, I did-”

“Really?” Jason interrupts lowly. “It killed you, huh?”

Dick sighs, a hand coming up to brush through his hair. “That’s not what I meant. You know it’s not.”

“I don’t know, Dicky. Times are changing, you know. One minute, you’re the star pupil, and the next I’m your backup. And now,” Jason shrugs, letting his hand come up to rest on the holster he keeps on his hip, “I’m not so sure about that.”

Dick is eyeing Jason like he’s looking at something he doesn’t like. Something that’s leaving a bad taste in his mouth. But that’s just something he’s going to have to deal with, isn’t it? Suck it up buttercup, and all that.

A laugh erupts from Jason as he truly takes it all in. “You know,” he chuckles, nothing humorous causing his mirth, “you really had me there for awhile. I bought you flowers, went to your funeral, dealt with all that shit, and yet here you are. In the flesh.” He laughs again, fingers curving steadily around the grip of his gun. “I think I liked you better dead, Dick.”

The older man frowns, brow dipping into a neat crease. Not a single wrinkle on his perfect, tan, not dead face. “The situation was unavoidable,” he says, like he actually believes a word he utters. “Batman needed a guy on the inside. The, hm, circumstances leading up to that set it up so that I could be that guy. It wasn’t exactly my choice to stay dead, Jay.”

“Names,” Jason snarks, that same anger he felt two days ago rearing its ugly head again. “You know, you say you didn’t have a choice, but I think there’s a clear distinction between dead and alive, don’t you? It might just be me, who knows because fuck if I do, but I think a warning woud’ve sufficed. A fucking warning. ”

Something must click in Dick’s head as his frown deepens. His hands are out of his jacket pockets now. They’re both tense.

“I’ll be back soon,” he says. “Maybe another month. Two at most. When I get back, I’ll try and…” Dick trails off there, as if searching for the right words, but Jason doesn’t have the patience for him to find the right way to say the same bullshit he’s already heard before. 

He’s so tired. So, so tired.

“We were fine without you,” he snarls, relishing in the way Dick’s eyes widen at the claim. “The world doesn’t stop turning just because you decide to go off on a little adventure. Newsflash, asshole: None of us need you. You can’t come back here and expect everything to fall back to the way things were just because you decide it’s time to show your face again.”

“I was doing what I thought was right,” Dick snaps back. “Look, I’m sorry you had to step up and be a decent person for once-”

“And there it is,” Jason growls, unholstering his gun. “You think you’re so much better than me. You’re just so goddamn smug you can’t even see your own mistakes. What, is my being here just too inconvenient for you? Can’t make all the little hero-worshipers fall back into line like they used to?”

“Stop putting words in my mouth. I did what I thought was best for everyone and I paid the price for it.”

Jason lunges, cutting the feet between them into inches. “What was best?” he yells, swinging with one fist and aiming with the other. “Who the hell are you to decide that?”

Dick retaliates, pushing away Jason with a kick that connects to his armored chest. It’s barely a glancing blow though and he’s charging forwards again, squeezing the trigger as a shot rings off into the air, missing Dick’s foot by a few centimetres. Another crack of thunder resounds in the distance and a bolt of lightning cracks open the dark sky. Dick rolls away from Jason’s tackle, on the balls of his feet and ready to jump away again.

“I didn’t come here to fight you,” Dick tries, widening his stance. “I just came to, god, I don’t know, Jay. I didn’t ask for this!”

“Cut the bull,” Jason says, raising his gun again. He’s got it trained on Dick’s mid-section and even though a part of him knows he’s not going to take the shot, another part of him has his finger itching towards the trigger. “None of us asked for any of the fuckery that comes our way, but we deal with it, right? I’m dead, you’re dead, the brat’s dead, we’re all dead!”

There’s another crack of thunder, one that brings the rain with it. It pours, instantly drenching the pair, and a sheet of gray divides them. There’s surely something poetic about it, the divide that surrounds them both, but Jason’s not one to dwell long.

“Well, I’m not dead anymore!” Dick screams through the rain. “I am alive! I’ve been dead for eight months and I don’t want to fucking be anymore! I want to come home, Jay. I am alive. Goddamnit, I am alive!”

“So why didn’t you tell us that? Tell any of us that? All of this, that’s on you , Dick. You want to know why there wasn’t a big fucking parade for you? Why no one was fighting over the chance to be the first one to get to shake your hand? It’s because we don’t trust you anymore. No one fucking wants you near them because that’s how badly you fucked up.”

He must strike a nerve because Jason sees something crumple on Dick’s face. 

“I didn’t- I didn’t want to leave you guys, Jay. God, you’ve got to believe me on that. I had no choice. It was either I leave and do this for Batman or-”

That same anger rises up again. Anger from different directions, different thoughts, but ultimately because it’s about Batman. Always, always about Batman. What he wants. What he needs you to do. Because if you don’t do it, and someone dies, it’s your fault. And Dick has always been the suck-up, the one to come when called, because even after all their spats and all these years of silence between them, Dick was still a Robin first and goddamnit if Jason doesn’t understand that. He hates that he understands that need to please Batman, to do what he asks in the hope of just some tiny ounce of praise or acknowledgment, but Dick is a grown adult. He’s not Robin anymore.

None of them are.

Dick takes a step forward and Jason squeezes the trigger, feeling the recoil in his wrist as Dick freezes, the bullet breezing right past his armpit. His eyes are wide, finally taking the weapon in as it is, and there must be some realization going off inside Dick’s head because now he’s the one charging in, stance low and shifty, and Jason’s on the defense now. His finger is still on the trigger, just barely, and he’s raising it to aim again when a flying round-house knocks the gun from his hand and fist drives under his chin. It disorients him a bit because, damn, he didn’t actually expect Dick to fight back, Jason was trying to get him to go away, but now they’re both serious. They’re both dangerous.

It’s a no-weapons brawl, just fists and dirty kicks and the rain is still pounding away against the bodega. The rain has plastered Dick’s hair to his skull and Jason is grateful for his helmet because it’s clear the water is making it difficult for the older man to see. He takes advantage of this, striking down with his elbow on Dick’s trapezius and quickly hooking his left foot around his ankle. It works for a split second, Dick thrown off and unbalanced, before Dick is tumbling down and using his own momentum to pull Jason down with him. 

They’re on their backs now, rough and cold cement bleeding through their jackets, and the neon Coke sign flickers in and out as thunder continues to roll and shake the world.

“You should’ve stayed dead,” Jason snarls, taking a jab at his older brother’s face. “You should’ve never come back.”

Dick frees one of his hands from underneath the massive bulk of Jason’s suit, palm striking the sides of his helmet. “Take off the godamn hood and say that to my face,” Dick pants, shoving one of his knees into Jason’s side. “Look me in the eye and tell me you want me dead, Jay. Tell me you want me dead. ”

Another bolt of lightning splits the dark and its image refracts against the many puddles, and for a moment, the light sears into Jason’s eyes. He flinches against the burn and it’s enough hesitation for Dick to take the unguarded moment and flip Jason, crouching with one knee on his chest and the other digging into Jason’s forearm. They’re both breathing heavily, exhausted both physically and mentally, and he doesn’t bother to stop his brother as Dick reaches down and shoves the helmet off of his face.

Their eyes meet and Jason squints up at clear blue. Yeah, he hates that color. Hates it so much it feels like something ugly in his stomach, coiling and clenching. They’re both frowning but Dick just looks resigned. Jason hates that too. Now that he has the chance, he can see new scars on his brother’s face. New, finer lines and white and pink discoloration. 

Funny how eight months can make someone look so much older.

“I wish you had stayed dead,” Jason finally says, hating himself all the more for it. “I wish you had never come back.”

Dick stumbles off of him and there’s a thin trail of red leaking from one of his eyebrows that keeps getting washed away. Jason doesn’t even remember hitting him there, but he must’ve been excessive. Must’ve over-done it. Just another thing he’s managed to fuck up. Check it off the list. 

He sits up, feeling the ache of a sore back and numerous bruises, and watches as his brother leans heavily against the poles of the advertisement. The rain only seems to come down harder, bouncing off the yellow stained bodega roof. He gets to his feet slowly, careful to keep an eye on the slouching man, and treads over to pick up his helmet. His gun is closer to the bright neon sign and when he gets near enough, Dick looks up, something horribly heavy and sad, settling into his face.

“Okay,” is all he says, nodding once. “Okay, Jay.”

Dick reaches into his jacket pocket once more, fiddling with something, but Jason’s too preoccupied putting his helmet back on to really pay attention to it. They’re done fighting. Done with whatever all of that was. His hair is soaked, his jacket is going to have a layer of mildew on it in the morning, and Jason is tired. Beat. He can’t find the will-power to truly be bothered with anything else. 

This is his territory so he’s not technically fleeing, but that’s what it looks like. Tail between his legs, off to lick his wounds, Jason’s sure that’s what Dick is thinking (he knows that’s not true, he knows this, and he’s got a little secret screaming, pounding away in the back of his skull, but Jason’s too burned out to deal with it, to address it). He walks to the edge of the roof with his back turned on his older brother, his alive and breathing, long lost brother, and jumps off, sliding down the fire escape and landing on the grimy streets below. His boots squelch in the rain, and there’s water logged into his socks, but Jason ignores it in favor of staring ahead. Refusing to look back.

Here’s the thing about being a Robin that everyone who’s been one before knows. 

You rely on each other. There’s no codependency, not really, but there is a certain degree of reliance on past and current Robins. Robin is the inspiration. Not Batman. Batman doesn’t inspire little kids to go out in the night and get punched in the face and witness cruelty so awful you have nightmares for years after. Batman doesn’t inspire light and forgiveness and mercy; that’s all Robin’s doing. The bright colors, the chatter, the youth. That’s all on Robin, the little child weapons they are, and the shared experience of being that for Batman is a bond that runs so much deeper than blood. Thick and interwoven and relied upon so much more heavily than a simple crest or uniform.

And here’s that screaming secret that vibrates inside Jason’s skull: he’s happy Dick’s back. That Dick’s alive. At the end of the day, Dick was the first Robin, the first light, and having him snuffed out was a world that got three shades darker, bleaker. It was Dick’s Robin that truly gave it the twinge of hope all the Robins after carry with them; he was the model, the mold, they shaped themselves after. Him being dead changed that perspective for the worse because the first Robin made it. That’s what was so important, what tips the scales for the confidence of all Robins after. Dick made it. Survived being Robin, survived past Robin, and became his own hero. 

Dick outlived being Robin and that was the ultimate goal. To survive. 

So him dying was the last straw but now that he’s back, alive, everything was going to be okay again. Yeah, they’re all still messed up from it, there’s going to be a lot of trust built back up again, but they’re Robins for Christ's sake. Thicker than blood, stronger than a crest, relied on more than Batman. And maybe Jason’s being sentimental, still trying to be more eloquent than his sophomore English education allowed him to be, but God, he’s trying. He’s trying so hard despite the ache that wears down his bones and the fire that consumes his brain.

That’s why he gives in. Turns around. Looks back. Does what he thought he was too stubborn to do, but things change and-

The neon sign is brighter. No, that’s not right. There’s another source of that eerie, glowing light and Jason’s eyes widen as he sees a person step through it. Another figure, broad, muscular, unfamiliar, and they’re heading straight for Dick. His brother. Who is still leaning against the advertisement poles. Who’s not doing a damn thing to avoid the stranger that’s fast approaching. 

Soreness and fatigue forgotten, Jason starts sprinting, boots pounding against the pavement as he cranes his neck upwards to watch the stranger continue to advance.

“Dick!” he yells in warning, drowned out with the rain. “Dick, move!”

He slams into the fire escape, hands scraping up the ladder as he hauls himself three steps at a time, chest heaving and heart beating wildly. He slips, losing his footing, and Jason grunts as he feels the pull on his shoulder and his knees bang into the sides of the bodega. He pushes on though, gripping the metal tightly and finally reaching the top.

He’s pulling himself over, gasping and searching, and he sees the man tugging Dick closer to the strange light, what Jason thinks must be some sort of portal, and before he’s even gotten a leg over the edge, his right hand is scrambling for purchase on his gun. He takes aim and fires without a second thought and curses aloud when it jams.

“Dick!” he yells again, throwing the useless weapon away and falling over onto the roof. “Stop! Stop! What’re you doing?”

His brother just trudges on though, bicep gripped by the stranger that continues to drag him closer and closer to the pulsating light, ghoulishly pink and saturating the air with an ominous buzz. Another flash of lightning illuminates the sky and Jason trips over himself in his haste, crashing into the slick cement. He whips his head up, too far away, too late, as the stranger disappears fully into the portal, Dick just a few inches away.

“Wait!” Jason cries, still attempting to rise off of his knees. Damn the rain. Damn the weight of his grief. Damn it all, get up. Get up. “Dick, stop! Stop!”

The rain is loud though and there’s a divide between the two of them, mixes of gray, pink, and red light. His brother half turns, watching as the younger stumbles towards him, and Jason can’t hear anything, can hardly process what’s even happening now, but Dick’s lips move in what Jason thinks is, Goodbye, and Jason screams, lunging as his brother fades into the light.

He falls, smashing into the cement once again as he fails to reach for his brother’s hand, and lands where the portal had just been. He lays there on his chest, heaving and attempting to breathe through his helmet, but it’s too hard, too suffocating, and Jason rips it off and flings it as far away from him as he can. His hands clench into fists and he fights back the urge to cry as he slams his fists into the roof. Bam-Bam-Bam.

Something cracks in his knuckles and Jason stops at the pain, shifting back and hanging his head between his knees. There’s a vicious burn in his eyes, his ugly, muddy green eyes, and Jason swipes at them furiously.

“We just got you back,” he whispers through gritted teeth. “We just got you back, Dick, and you, you just-”

A clap of thunder rattles the thin poles of the Coke advertisement as its lights finally flicker out. The night is dark without its glow and Jason is left in obscurity. 

“What have I done?"

[kaeyas-beloved]

Hi!

Could I please ask for IkeRev HCs for Ray, Fenrir and Luka. What are they like as Older brothers to a younger sister who’s still a teenager, 16/17 ish?

Thank you!

Ray Blackwell, Fenrir Godspeed, Luka Clemence || Ikemen Revolution

Warning(s): Slight spoilers for Fenrir's & Luka’s route (nothing major tho), maybe some OOCness since I haven't picked up IkeRev in some time - but other than that none (do tell me if I’m wrong though ^^)

Note: Hello! I’m really sorry for taking such a long time to write this (honestly I wrote and re-wrote this a handful of times and I still don't even know if they're that great...)

Still, I hope they’re good enough and that you enjoy them - thank you for requesting!

She/Her pronouns are used to address the reader/younger sister

---------------------------

Older Brother to Younger, Teen Sister HCs 

Ray Blackwell

Ray’s such a calm older brother in the sense that he’s both never intruding in on your personal space & gives you your freedom while still being able to know when he has to step up and protect you (even though he wants to protect you all the time)

Growing up the both of you were close (Fenrir was thrown in that mix too with how often the two boys hung out) But after Ray joined the army, steadily climbing the ranks and you stuck focusing on your studies you guys kind of drifted apart for sometime

You aren’t sure who started it but soon you found yourselves sending each other letters as a way to stay in touch (your letter more often than not having a picture of Belle tucked inside)

The little kitty loves you by the way - you’re his second favourite hooman (it’s cause you spoil him with cuddles), Ray’ll sometimes get jealous when the feline snuggles up to you because he thinks that his own cat loves you more than him

One day though you were walking home from school and passed an alleyway, faintly hearing someone baby talk to something. Curiosity got the better of you and that’s how you found your older brother, cross legged on the dirty street coddling one too many street cats

Though you do travel to that particular spot a lot now (usually as a way to procrastinate destress from school (or simply because you love cats like Ray does)) You’ll also keep them company when Ray can’t

Ray hates it when you go out late at night since anything could happen to you. It nags at the back of his mind a lot, that one day something might happen to his precious little sister and that he might not be there to save you. Old wounds and feelings resurface at the list of possibilities that come to mind.

He doesn’t want history to repeat itself, he doesn’t want to be unable to protect you from danger. So anytime that you visit headquarters and you stay late you either simply stay the night or have an escort take you home. You can choose which option you’d like but Ray’s not taking a ‘no’ as any form of an answer

Calls you dufus just because he can (but affectionately). Might also ruffle your hair and/or pat you on the shoulder

You call him an old man because he can’t stay up past 10PM (Ray’ll then make some kind of comment regarding Sirius and how he’s more of an old man, to which you both laugh until the man himself makes his presence behind you known)

Absolutely the kind of brother to move things you need off a shelf out of your reach before proceeding to walk away with a satisfied smile on his face

Also the kind of brother to tease you about any cute boys/girls/people that he catches you staring at or gushing about (but he’ll stop if you tell him seriously to stop)

Do you like books? Ray likes books. He has a lot of books. Take a book, please he has too many--

If you enjoy reading, Ray is constantly recommending you novels, letting you read them before casually asking you your opinion on certain characters or events when you’re returning it. But even if you're not an avid reader he may still hand you a book or two that he knows you'll enjoy

Like mentioned earlier, Ray is very busy with Army work and such but honestly, out of everyone in the Black Army, he’s the second best person to come to with homework (second only to Sirius). Especially with history. Like, you need the entire history of the Black Army or Cradle? He’s got you, he had to read up on it when he was on the road to becoming the King of Spades.

Really, you could just pop right into his office at anytime, ask your question and Ray will be able to answer without missing a beat before going back to whatever he was doing

You can always come to Ray for anything. Questions, complaints you name it he’ll listen to your woes/answer however he can.

You guys bond over your teacher(s) giving too much homework; Ray reminiscing when he was your age and in high school - he completely understands the struggle (it was excruciating. All the work prolonged the sweet embrace of a good night’s sleep T~T)

There’s someone who’s picking on you? Don’t worry he’ll deal with them >:)

He might not always know how he can help or comfort you since he’s not the best with words when it comes to certain things, but that won’t stop him from at least helping where he can

Will never let anything happen to you -- Ray protects you with his life and he'll use any power he has if it means that you can walk out unharmed, that’s how much he cares for you

Fenrir Godspeed

Fenrir doubles as both your older brother and your best friend

110% flaunts how you’re the coolest little sister a brother could have to anyone that will listen (most of the time it’s the Black Army tho)

Flips between calling you by name, ‘sis’ and any other ridiculous nickname he can come up with (but don’t worry - you have an equally stupid name for him)

Considers you his best buddy (aside from Ray that is)

Fenrir’s also the kind of brother to pat his sister’s head, ruffle her hair, give gentle noogies and shake her around by the shoulders/poke her playfully then go ‘wasn’t me’. Just like these wholesome little things that mean no harm or anything

I also like the idea of Fenrir giving his sister piggyback rides - it's just a nice thought, please don't take this away from me I beg of you T-T

Best bro Fenrir picks you up from school every day, no ifs, ands or buts! Usually, he’ll buy you your favourite sweet/snack and give it to you when he gets there.

Brings Shu Shu along as well and the three of you will talk about what happened at school or anything exciting that may have happened as he walks you either home or to the barracks

You’re both very chaotic + Ray joins in too most of the time. Quite a few pranks happen when you’re at Black HQ (RIP the Black Army when you come over and you three triple team them).

Harmless pranks I promise!

Fenrir may take one of your belongings (a brush, your favourite book or an accessory) and run around the place with the only way of you getting it back is to catch him

There was this one time you snuck tomatoes into his food to see if he’d notice.

Spoiler alert: he most certainly did

After that he kinda ignored you for the rest of the day as payback, pouting and pretending like you weren’t there, saying stuff like ‘huh? Did you hear that?” At the end of the day though he wasn't mad and was able to laugh it off (it doesn’t erase the betrayal he felt tho)

Once in a while you’ll also poke fun at his fear of ghosts, saying off hand that there’s one at the end of the hall, down in the cellar or behind him. You never go too far though - not after the time that a prank of yours left him really shaken. You’ve never seen him so scared in your life and don’t plan to again.

Oliver’s soul nearly left his body when he first met you and learned that you took after your troublesome brother

Fenrir loves helping you with any school work you have cause he likes being a dependable brother for you! …The only problem is that sometimes he doesn’t know how to. Like, he grasps the basic concepts of what you’re talking about, but if you ask him how to calculate acceleration or a parabola he draws a blank - you’ve lost him.

Pls cut him some slack tho he’s trying his best and just the thought alone is sweet 🥺

Compared to his best buddy Ray, the Ace of Spades has quite a bit of free time, which he spends by dropping by the family home where you still live for surprise visits.

Most greetings start with “There’s my favourite sister!” with you adding on “I’m your only sister Fenrir…”

You still welcome him with a smile, open arms and a hug :)

Swears up, down and on his life to keep you and army affairs separate, he’s NOT going to expose his little sister to the violence that comes with his occupation. He stands firm on this decision. This topic is one of the only times you’ll see him actually serious

You’re not stupid though, you know what goes on, and, because of this, every time you hear in passing that the gun crazed Ace of Spades was at it again - launching himself straight into battle - there’s this pang of anxiety that rattles you to your core. You’re sure that there always will be no matter how much times passes

As a sum up - very loving and goofy brother/best friend with the addition of lots of pranks and battle scares 😎✌️

Luka Clemence

You know how in game Luka starts off as kinda cold to MC/Alice? Yeah there's none of that with his little sister

Usually when hanging around her he's most of the time adorning a small smile cause he finds joy in being around her

The relationship you have is a VERY close one considering that, while growing up in the prestigious Clemence household, it was basically you and Luka against the world

Sometimes Luka fears that you’re really lonely back at home because he’s not around as much as he used to be ever since joining the Black Army. Therefore, every week he’s set aside at the bare minimum a whole day (or at least an afternoon/evening) to go visit you - or for you to visit him!

Y’all cooking buddies and I’ll die on this hill

Luka teaches you any and everything he knows about cooking all the way to baking. He’ll even write down recipes for your favourite dishes so you can make them when he’s not there.

Whenever you’re visiting the Black Army and it’s Luka’s turn to make dinner you pitch in and help. He’ll make some of the dishes while you make the others.

The Black Army adores your cooking since you have such a great teacher/brother

Luka lets you hold/pet/feed/take care of Stone. You’re the only exception he makes when it comes to his furry companion

Don’t swear around him he’ll die (that is, after getting told by the other Black Army officers why it's such a bad thing and a big deal)

Lets you hold his sword once but you ended up nearly toppling over because it was heavier than you first anticipated.

Would play the violin for you while you study if you asked him, especially if you bring up that it helps you concentrate better

Sibling fights are non-existent. The only time that there’s a chance of you butting heads is when Luka starts pushing himself too much with training or the conversion involves Jonah

Speaking of the Queen of Hearts--

It’s a constant tug of war between the two brothers on who gets to spend the day with you. Luka’s scowling, Jonah’s pouting and you’re wondering what you have to do to get your brothers to get along (or at least have it where you’re not in the middle of it all)

Very supportive of whatever you want to do with your life. Luka also tells you every once in a while that you can always come live in Black territory or even the barracks when you’re a little older if you want to

All the more should Jonah/your parents ever try to enforce something on you (like some kind of lesson/social norms for Red Territory that you don’t like etc.). Luka will 100% whisk you away into Black Territory to get away from it all, just say the word.

All in all each of the boys are wrapped around their little sister's finger and would do anything to keep her safe and happy :)

-------------------

Thank you again for requesting!

[Masterlist]

[renjuseyo]

pinwheel (2) ; woozi

group: seventeen

pairing: lee jihoon / reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis: even if you get lost and it takes you a while, come round and round back to me.

genre: angst with a happy ending

warnings: explicit language, mentions of alcohol

part one got good feedback so here’s part two written in jihoon’s pov :) it’s almost one am where i am so this hasn’t been proof read quite yet! but as always, feedback would be greatly appreciated! <3 you can find part one here

title inspiration: pinwheel by seventeen other songs: i wish by seventeen

there is a time, always, when jihoon closes his eyes and sees you in the center of his world.

when you two were in a relationship, thinking about each other was a given. wondering if the other had eaten yet or what they were up to was practically second nature, though in jihoon’s case, these thoughts were accompanied by his adoration for you. sometimes he’ll catch himself picturing you beside him, laughing so loudly that you’re snorting. it isn’t anything romantic; if he’s being honest, you have one of the weirdest laughs he’s ever heard. but as weird as it is, it’s both endearing and contagious, because it never fails to brighten his day a little more.

or he’ll picture you nagging at him, probably because he’s failed to take care of himself once again, whether it be because he accidentally skipped a meal or spent more time working on a project instead of sleeping. even if you may act like a parent more than a lover sometimes, you’re really taking care of jihoon, and in some ways, you’re the best one to do it. it brings him a sense of comfort, being able to shut his eyes and make you out so vividly in his head.

now, every time he thinks of you, pictures your boisterous laugh or your nagging lectures, all he can feel is hurt. he can’t hear your laugh without hearing your cries, nor can he see you nagging without picturing your painstaking silence. he knows it’s not right, not after he left you crying in your apartment, not even sparing a glance back. he doesn’t deserve to, anyways.

not many things can change all at once, he realizes, even if it’s already been two years. he still wonders how you are doing, sometimes if you’ve moved on, even. today is one of those days, it seems, because he’s supposed to be composing a piece for a project due a week from now. but instead of pumping out poetic verse after verse like the machine he is, he’s laying in bed, staring at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars sprinkled against the ceiling as he goes down the inevitable spiral thoughts of you bring along. he isn’t quite sure why he hasn’t taken them down, considering how memories are drenched up just by staring at them for too long. even if they provide a dim glow amidst the pitch darkness, it doesn’t make things less lonely.

when he was dating you, he was an absolute workaholic, constantly pouring his all into his projects. ironically enough, now that you’re gone, he spends his days doing nothing instead of working to distract himself. he still goes about his day as usual, but he doesn’t put work above himself anymore.

he sighs, rolling to his side. time helps some and hurts others, but he finds himself somewhere in between in a grey area. he hasn’t quite moved on from the events yet, but the bitterness he felt is replaced with a subtle dullness in his head. it’s a blank feeling, almost as if it isn’t there.

but it is, to his dismay, and he’s reminded of it every time he stares at a blank space for a little too long. jihoon isn’t one to ponder on falling outs for a long time - “everything happens for a reason,” he always says. yet here he is, in the dullest area he’s ever known, being the most unproductive he’s ever been. his friends had long given up on him; even his friend jeonghan, who might be the stubbornest person he’s ever met, has stopped pushing him to hang out with their friends now. wonwoo still tries every now and then, but that’s because he feels a sense of duty as his best friend. besides, he probably has made more progress with you than him, if seeing him drop off coffee at your place each time is anything to go by.

the thought of you and wonwoo together creeps into his mind before he can do anything about it. he doesn’t have the right to feel jealous or uncomfortable - if anything, he’s a much better fit for you than he will ever be, even if it hurts to admit. wonwoo won’t break your heart like he did, and he’s thoughtful and observant, so you won’t have to worry about expressing your thoughts. jihoon knows you could care less about physical appearance, but wonwoo is undoubtedly one of the most attractive people he’s ever met, so that’s a bonus, too. you deserve someone that brilliantly shines like the sun, like wonwoo. not someone who cowers in the darkness like the moon, like him.

but even if wonwoo isn’t the perfect match for you, he knows you’ll eventually find someone who does, because you’re just magnetic like that.

(he isn’t quite sure how long he’s spent wallowing his insecurities. but by the time he comes out of his head, he seats himself at his desk with newfound inspiration, writing i wish at the top of a new page.)

the four years jihoon spent dating you, and the several he spent as your best friend, has undoubtedly been the best years he’s spent. it isn’t like there’s a new adventure every day, because truthfully, you two spend more time being couch potatoes together than going out and exploring the world. but the sense of comfort and security he feels with you, the one that reminds him so dearly of home, is reason enough for him to spend each day contently.

if someone asked you how your relationship worked out as well as it did, he would say it’s because of your mutual respect for each other, and the confidence you had in your love for each other. your respect probably stems from your differences; if you’re loud and energetic, jihoon is quiet and reserved. when you relish in physical touch, jihoon resorts to subtle actions. some may even say you two are complete opposites, baffled at your compatibility, though others might argue that it’s these traits that made things just... work. truthfully, jihoon would argue that there couldn’t possibly be a more compatible pair that just got each other.

with such a perfect fit, how could you two have possibly fallen apart, some might wonder? he wonders this every now and then, too, though the answer to him is clear as day. and who else is there to blame except for himself?

having faith in each others’ love is the pillar to every relationship, and by doubting his, jihoon inevitably slipped down a rabbit hole of insecurities and what-ifs. and with these came the thought of you deserving much better than what he can offer, which eventually led to the mess that was two years ago.

now, if someone asked jihoon if he loves you, he would answer yes, in a heartbeat. but if someone also asked if he had any regrets, he would answer no, in the exact same time span. you deserve someone who won’t fall down said rabbit hole, even if it hurts him to think of you with someone new. love is a powerful motivator, anyways.

(jihoon’s perched on a stool by the bar, a glass of beer in his hand. moments later, wonwoo slides himself beside him, holding a new bottle. he raises an eyebrow in questioning. “bartender said it’s for you, from the girl in the blue dress.”

he scans the crowd until his eyes drift onto someone matching that description. she holds up her own glass in acknowledgement, sending him a flirty smile. he’s a little surprised considering how he rarely stands out like this. unsure of what to do, he sends her a polite smile before looking back at wonwoo. “no thanks.”

wonwoo shrugs, taking a swig of his own bottle. “suit yourself.” the bar is densely packed with people among their own cliques, eagerly engaged in conversation. it’s loud and reeks of alcohol, but jihoon feels like he’s in his own little bubble, save for wonwoo by his side. they both silently drink their respective beverages, taking in the crowd behind them, until wonwoo turns to face him. “care to tell me why you’re here, drinking your sorrows away?”

he rolls his eyes. “i’m not depressed, if that’s what you’re asking.”

he shrugs, holding up his hands defensively. “sorry. forgot you’re all sunshine and rainbows.” there’s a quick pause, and jihoon can tell he has something to say. “you know,” he begins, swirling his drink around, “(name) asked me how you’ve been.”

jihoon can feels his lungs contracting together, but he ignores the feeling, instead intensely staring at his drink. wonwoo continues, “i said you were doing okay.” he turns his head to give him a look of confusion, since wonwoo has experienced firsthand just how “okay” he’s really been. “well, you’re doing better than (name) is,” he explains. “i just thought you might want to know.”

he looks back at his drink, biting his lip. he supposes wonwoo does have a point, because he hasn’t turned into a sobbing mess like people had thought he would be. but then again, jihoon seldom cries, and he isn’t the most expressive, so no one is really surprised. he chooses to think of you instead. did you ask to see if he was still affected? did you ask to see if he was doing better?

his thoughts are running several miles per hour, but thankfully, wonwoo has known him long enough to read his thoughts, and he almost always gets them right. “(name)’s doing better compared to a year ago, but not much has changed.” he pauses to gauge jihoon’s reaction. “you know, i don’t understand why you don’t go back. you still love (name)-”

“no.”

it’s a simple response, really, but from the sudden edge in his voice wonwoo knows better than to pry. he knows it’s because of jihoon’s insecurities and because it would be a complete dick move to ask for your forgiveness two years later. not after he recklessly split your heart in two. you deserve better than a jerk like him, anyways.

jihoon knows this, and he knows wonwoo is only asking because he’s your friend as much as he’s his. he never gets less defensive, though.)

for someone who claims to be laid back, wonwoo sure is stubborn.

jihoon knows this, having known him since high school, yet the observation dawns to him every now and then. now is one of those moments, he notes, having been dragged out of their dorms to the supermarket. he knows fully well that wonwoo is very capable of bringing those groceries in by himself; he’s personally seen him carry two bags loaded with groceries inside without even breaking a sweat. but suddenly wonwoo, who enjoys being by himself more than normal, suddenly craves company from the very person who’s tried to stay indoors more.

“stop frowning, jihoon. you’ll get wrinkles that way,” wonwoo tells him, browsing through the shelves of cereal. “have you seen the honey bunches of oats, by the way? the almond ones.”

jihoon’s still brooding, arms tightly folded across his chest. “you wouldn’t even have to look at my face if i could’ve just stayed home,” he snaps. “and they’re to the right. you missed them a while ago.

he heads to the right as told and makes a noise of satisfaction upon finding what he needed. “come on, jihoon, you need to get some vitamin d in you. staying inside all of the time is bad for you.” wonwoo holds up a box of cereal, grinning. “see? if you weren’t here, i wouldn’t have even found it.”

"it’s night time, and your eyes can’t be that bad,” jihoon snorts, shuffling towards him. he unfolds his arms and shoves them in his pockets instead.

wonwoo rolls his eyes. “you’ve seen me run into a wall because i didn’t have my glasses. i think that itself proves a point.” touche. “anyways, i think we’ve gotten just about everything. is there anything you need?” he asks.

jihoon pauses to think of things they need. “we’re out of ramen,” he answers.

and with that, the two start pushing their cart towards the aisle of asian foods. it’s not surprising to see the shelves of ramen covered by people their age - after all, ramen is practically a necessity for college students. they make their way through the throngs of people when suddenly, one person’s cart abruptly runs into a shelf. packs of ramen fall from the shelves, and they can see someone who seems very embarrassed, bending down to pick up the fallen items as fast as possible. there are people looking at the scene, though apparently none are helpful enough to help.

jihoon makes his way towards the person, helping scoop up the variety of ramen. his eye catches sight of a six-pack of samyang ramen, and he can’t help the bittersweet smile that rests on his lips. you used to compare him to the chicken, and it was funny at the time. now it just reminds him of memories he doesn’t want to recall.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry,” he hears someone mumble beside him.

he scoops an armful of ramen from the floor and sends you a reassuring smile. “don’t apologize, you’re all right.”

the stranger turns their head so fast that it startles him, when he looks up, he decides there and then the universe really might be out to get him. like some romantic drama, his eyes connect with your wide ones, and your initial nerves seems to intensify more. his smile falls, and he’s staring at you, trying his hardest to remove any signs of emotions on his face. it seems it’s working, because he sees you look away at an impossible speed.

(he hopes you didn’t stare long enough to notice the bags under his eyes, the number of sleepless nights he’s had because of you.)

before he can say anything, you hastily throw the fallen items onto the shelf, even throwing some into your cart. you throw out a quick thank-you before grabbing your cart and zooming down the aisle at an inhumane speed. he’s left alone, crouched on the floor of the ramen aisle, probably looking like a fool with his arms full of ramen staring at an empty space with wide eyes.

as soon as the pile on the floor has been cleared, wonwoo slowly rolls his cart towards jihoon. “was that...” he glances at him to see his reaction. jihoon must have some grief stricken look on his face, because for all of his stubbornness, wonwoo drops the question like hot iron.

they roll their cart towards the cash register, silence lingering in the air. thankfully, wonwoo doesn’t question it, only asking if he’s gotten everything he needed.

he also doesn’t question the six-pack of samyang ramen that had miraculously matieralized in the cart, inserting his card into the card reader. and for all of his frugality, wonwoo doesn’t tell jihoon to pay him back, either.

when they slide into wonwoo’s car after throwing their groceries into the trunk, jihoon turns to glance at him, who’s connecting his phone to the car. “hey, wonwoo?”

he turns to face him, raising an eyebrow in acknowledgement. “yes?”

inhale on five... exhale on ten... and repeat. now that’s not something he’s had to do in a while. he isn’t sure why he feels so nervous - it’s wonwoo of all people. he’s seen jihoon through his worst moments and even lives to tell the tale about it. shutting his eyes, he sighs. “thanks.” he awkwardly rubs his thighs, eyes trained everywhere but at him. now that he thinks about it, he has a lot to thank wonwoo for. for the times he helped him get through his breakup, for the times he’s checked up on you, for the times he forced him out of their apartment, for the times he bought food and groceries for jihoon even though he didn’t need to, for the times he brought coffee to your apartment. for not giving up on him.

wonwoo shrugs, turning the keys in the ignition. “i’d rather not deal with a zombie in my apartment. you still need to pay rent, anyways.”

jihoon’s evening is supposed to look like this: buy groceries for wonwoo and two large bottles of coke-cola for himself, order pizza for the two of them, and spend at least an hour working on his latest project. he’s gotten one of the three parts down, having just come home from the supermarket.

he has two large bottles of coke-cola on the dining table, and if he’s being honest, they’re the only things he’s looking forward to tonight. he’s in the middle of putting carton of milk and fruits in their refrigerator when he hears soft knocks on his door. huh, weird. he sure wasn’t expecting anyone, and wonwoo has keys to their apartment.

he shuts the fridge and starts walking towards their entryway until the soft knocks are suddenly replaced with urgent rapping. he jumps and pauses in stunned silence, before quickening his pace towards the door. when he peeks through the peephole, he’s relieved to see it’s only his neighbor, lee dokyeom, and not a serial killer. he’s in the year below him and is a nice underclassman - nicer than the ones he knows, anyways. sweet, patient guy. definitely not the type to knock on doors so urgently.

jihoon cracks the door open in confusion. “is there something you need?”

dokyeom nervously looks left and right as if he fears something. so perhaps the possibility of a serial killer isn’t thrown out the window, he decides. “i saw someone on the first floor who was looking for you, and they looked really aggravated. just- be careful, okay?” he whispers. before he can say anything, dokyeom scurries away and darts back into his own home.

well he’ll be damned. he supposes this does add a little zest to his mundane routine, and what screams zest quite like an aggravated person looking for him? he shuts the door and locks it before contemplating the events that could have possibly led to this. looks like pizza and his project will have to wait.

a few minutes later, jihoon hears footsteps stoming outside of his apartment. before he can ready a weapon, loud knocks echo throughout his apartment, though they’re much louder and much more aggressive than dokyeom’s. unsure of what to do, he hesitantly peeks through the peephole. when he does, he fully expects to see someone that screams serial killer material. perhaps someone with a gun or a knife, or someone wearing all black with murderous eyes. saying he’s surprised to see you standing outside of his door, angrily clutching onto a sheet of paper, is an understatement.

wait... sheet of paper?

perhaps the potential of a serial killer is better than what he’ll soon face, he decides.

mustering all of the courage in him, jihoon nervously unlocks the door and cracks it open. you’re standing before him, eyes narrowed; if looks could kill, he would be a very dead man. if he’s being honest, this is definitely not how he expected seeing you again. the fates are a funny thing.

“is there-”

“lee. ji. hoon,” you growl, grabbing the collar of his sweater. you drag him into his apartment and kick the door close before pushing him into a wall. under normal circumstances, jihoon would be very flustered. a little turned on, maybe.

but in these circumstances, he’s very nervous and a little afraid. “yes?” he squeaks.

you glare at him, pointing a finger at the sheet of paper in your hands. “what the fuck is this?” so much for small talk. he doesn’t have time to answer, because then you shove the paper in his face. it’s his final song dedicated to you, the one he had written after breaking your heart as a desperate attempt to get over you.

it didn’t work.

“funny that you should ask,” jihoon nervously laughs. “because-”

“don’t act like a smartass right now. you-” you inhale on five... exhale on ten... and repeat. “you wrote me a song like this and a letter on the back trying to justify leaving me without any answers and expect me to just take it?”

looking back, he does realize it is kind of a horrible move. just more reason why he should never get back together with you, because as much as he yearns it, he doesn’t deserve to. “no, i suppose not.”

his nerves quickly disappear when he sees the look of hurt that washes over your face, all traces of anger gone. now he just feels his heart dropping all the way down to his toes. “i thought you left because you didn’t love me anymore.” your voice is quieter, a stark contrast from your yelling, though it’s the way your voice wobbles, the way it sounds so fragile that stands out to jihoon. he can feel the two years of grief hitting him in all directions, seeing you so hurt. “you just disappeared from the face of earth. why?”

you know the answer, having read his letter and analyzing the lyrics of his song. but you’d take the words out of his mouth than on paper any day, no matter how unreliable. jihoon can only give you his guiltiest look, though it can’t even begin to compare to the guilt eating at his heart. he doesn’t respond immediately, frozen in place. the silence hangs heavy between them, and he swears this is all a dream. because you aren’t real, standing before him, begging him for answers.

but the sharp inhale that leaves your mouth is a harsh reminder that this is reality. he’s the one who hurt you as you struggle to keep your composure.

“i’m not good enough for you,” he begins. “i don’t...” inhale on five... exhale on ten... and repeat. “i don’t love the way you do, with your need to touch and for constant assurance. i can’t easily hold your hand or easily tell you i love you, because as blunt as i am, it’s so, so hard for me to just go out and say it. you fall into step with people like soonyoung so easily, because they don’t shy away from touch like i do. and you both can say you love each other without batting an eye and still be genuine about it. but i can’t do any of those things.”

he doesn’t give you a chance to speak. he’s already spiraling down a rabbit hole, too deep to come back out. his secret’s already out, so there’s no stopping it. “i’m not good at expressing how i feel, a complete contrast from you considering how you practically wear your heart on your sleeve. you deserve someone who’s love comes in the form of warm touches and firm affirmations, the same way you love people. i don’t want you to adjust the way you express love just because i can’t.” he doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels something wet roll down his cheeks. you’re just as surprised as he is, because he rarely cries. “you deserve better.”

his final words have some sort of domino effect on you, because as soon as he says them, you march straight up to him and squish his cheeks together as hard as you can. he makes a muffled noise of confusion, staring at you with startled eyes.

“you...” you’re already shedding tears, but it’s the fierce look in your eyes that catches his attention. “you stupid, fucking, dumb idiot!”

you’ve always had a colorful vocabulary. “who are you to decide who’s good for me and who isn’t? mind you, i’m only a month younger than you, and i’m quite capable of making my own decisions!”

you continue, “i’m not dumb, jihoon! i was your best friend before your lover, you dumbass! i know better than anyone how much you hate physical touch and how hard it is for you to put your feelings into words! do you think i jumped into this relationship completely forgetting that?” you don’t even try to hide the way your voice cracks anymore. “i’m in love with you because of how stupidly organized you are. i’m in love with you because you feel emotions more deeply than others. but what really made me decide to pursue you is the fact that you never tried to change yourself for anyone! so what happened?” you sob, loosening your hold.

jihoon’s heart clenches. “i thought... having to adjust to fit what i felt comfortable with discomforted you. i thought you would’ve been happier-”

“YOU MADE ME THE HAPPIEST, YOU DUMBASS!!” you yell. “do you not realize that this whole time, these are all things you thought? because you never once tried to talk to me about how you felt?” you let go of him and walk away, turning your back on him. “the only way we can ever resolve issues like these is if we talk things out. i know you don’t like to, jihoon, but look what the alternative did to us.” you gesture at the state you two are in: crying, guilty messes, letting lack of communication completely derail your relationship.

perhaps this was what wonwoo had been trying to tell him all along: communication is key. he realizes this too late, now standing in his apartment with your heart in his hands, and his in yours. the guilt of taking the initiative all by himself without consulting you and the fact that even after everything, you can still confidently say that you love him, is so overwhelming that his knees buckle and he slides onto the ground, tears silently falling down his cheeks. you really were right when you called him a stupid idiot and more. he deserves all of those names and tenfold for doing this to you.

a silence hangs in the air, and he wonders if you’ve gone, too afraid to look up. a part of him wants you to stay, though he can understand if you left. you deserve that much. but then you slide onto the ground before him with matching tear stains, and you cup his cheeks. it’s a silent question of consent, and he closes his eyes, letting himself sink into your hands.

you lean in and rest your forehead against his. it’s warm and makes him feel a fuzzy feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time. “you’re really fucking stupid,” you murmur. “what were you thinking?”

“of you,” he whispers. he can feel your breath fanning against his face.

“obviously not, if we had to take a detour to get to where we are now,” you respond. “you’re lucky i love you.”

at this, jihoon opens his eyes and removes your hands from his face, standing up. even after unnecessarily breaking your heart, even after making these decisions himself?

you’ve known jihoon long enough to read him, even if he prides himself in being a closed book. “i’m still very pissed, and i’m not stupid enough to just jump into a relationship and forget everything that’s happened. but...” you stand up and take a step closer to him. it’s careful and precise, like how you’ve always taken care of him. “you jump, i jump?”

it’s something you two always say when you’re about to do something stupid. you and jihoon are an inseparable pair; even if jihoon is the logical one of you two, he’ll still find himself being roped into another one of your reckless shenanigans. he can still remember the one time in middle school you were trying to get a very scared jihoon to ride a newly opened roller coaster at the amusement park you two had gone on for a field trip.

“i would rather keep my remains, thanks,” he remembers saying.

but you’re stubborn personified, and you’re very firm on having your partner-in-crime beside you. “you jump, i jump?” you had asked.

he knew you wouldn’t push him if you really knew he couldn’t do it, but apparently you just know what things he can do, given the right push. that push comes in the form of that phrase, because then he finds himself climbing onto one of the seats, nervously clutching onto your hand.

but this isn’t middle school anymore, and jihoon knows even with these cleared up misunderstandings, it’s going to take a while for both you and him to assimilate yourself into a proper relationship.

yet he’s never wanted anything so badly anymore. he’s yearned for your smile, your laugh... you, for too long, and he would be a fool to give up this second chance. he takes a step towards you and laces your fingers together. he seldom touches anyone like this, and he can tell you’ve missed it, tightening your grip. “you jump, i jump,” he repeats with more confidence.

everything’s a little blurry, probably because of the tears in both of your eyes, but the one thing that’s clear to him is when you dive into his arms, burying your head in his chest. the last time you had done this, he left with your heart in his hands.

jihoon wraps his arms around you. “i’m so sorry,” he mumbles, burying his head on top of yours. “i got a little lost on my way here.” it’s supposed to be a lighthearted joke, though he can hear you sniffle.

“you came back to me,” you quietly laugh, a little unable to believe that you’re in his arms again and that this isn’t just a dream. your voice is wet and raw from crying and yelling, but jihoon’s never heard a prettier sound. “that’s all that matters.”

[mrs-hatake]

The Chronicles of World Famous Detective Hatake Kakashi | Part 1

Pairing: Kakashi x female!reader

Warning: murder, jealousy, alcoholism, womanizing, lowkey toxic relationship.

Word count: 10.6k

A/N: finally! the kakashi fic is here! this is based on the anime series detective conan and it took me like a month to write so i hope you guys will love it! also, a sequel is in the works!

proof reading credit goes to @runeterrankhaleesi​

The drive to the beach was...an odd experience. Kakashi thought to himself.

His eldest daughter, Aiko, had been silently bouncing and smiling in her seat throughout the whole ride. It probably had something to do with the person she promised to meet. Kakashi internally groaned at his daughter crushing on some loser but, no matter, he’d just scare him off.

While his youngest son, Sakumo, kept staring at his sister in suspicion. Sakumo was a very observant seven year-old who always managed to find trouble wherever he went. Kakashi briefly wondered if his son would end up being a detective like himself or sign his ass up for the C.I.A. He hoped it was the latter.

As Aiko checked them into the fancy looking hotel with lavish furnishing, Kakashi allowed his eyes to wander the occupants of the hotel. He could feel a tug on the corner of his lips at the sight of beautiful women dressed in cute sundresses and tiny little bathing suits. Perhaps going on a mini vacation during the drought wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Here you go, dad.” Aiko handed him the electronic keycard and Kakashi had to frown.

“Why did you book two different rooms?” He questioned as he scratched the back of his head “Wouldn’t it just be cheaper if you had rented a suite?”

“We wouldn’t want to interfere later on.” His daughter replied with a “not-so-innocent” grin and before Sakumo could call her out on her suspicious behavior, Aiko smacked her hand on his mouth and whispered something into his ear which managed to shut him up. Whatever. This separate room thing wasn’t such a bad idea if he planned on courting some of the cute women he had seen earlier.

“Anyways,” Aiko giggled, “Let’s just hurry up, get changed and go to the beach!”

Kakashi was in heaven.

The women scattered across the beach were simply immaculate. Each of them, different in their own ways. From tall and athletic to short and petite, with the darkest shade of skin to the lightest. This beach had it all and Kakashi couldn’t help but marvel at every single one of them that came within direct vicinity of his eyesight.

“Tada! What do you think dad, I bought this yesterday. Isn’t it cute?” Aiko asked as she showed off her pale pink bathing suit with yellow daisies on it.

“Shhh!” Kakashi hurridy shushed the girl as his sunglasses slid further down his nose “Don’t let the babes know I’m your dad!”

That earned him a glare from Aiko, “And why not?” she crossed her arms across her chest. “It might be a huge turn off!” wailed Kakashi as Aiko continued to glare at him.

“I saw on t.v that women liked dads.” Sakumo silently muttered and Kakashi muttered a cuss word under his breath at his pesky son knowing such information. Of course some women were attracted to men who were fathers-that’s what they’d all say until it was time for them to actually meet his children, but the second he brings it up, they’d all disappear.

“And why do you care what women think?” Aiko raised an eyebrow at her father, as if to challenge him for an answer that didn’t offend her and her fellow women, and to test what kind of man her father truly was.

Before Kakashi could answer though, movement from his peripheral vision caught his attention and he quickly averted his gaze to his left.

A woman dressed in the world’s tiniest pale blue bikini stood hunched over, giving Kakashi a perfect view of her thick ass.

“Fuck me.” Kakashi breathed silently at the mouth watering display.

As if hearing what he had said, the woman stood up straighter and Kakashi instantly froze but couldn’t tear his gaze away from her gorgeous back. Slowly, the woman turned around to face him and Kakashi emitted the shrillest voice in his life “Aaahh!” and nearly toppled over his beach chair.

“Y-Y/N…” His left eye twitched in fear “W-Why are you here?”

“You too?” The woman with long wavy brown locks gasped in surprise “Why?”

“Oh my god, what a surprise!” Interrupted a high pitch voice and the two adults turned to face Aiko who looked as if she had met her two favorite celebrities. While Sakumo stood unimpressed beside her. “Who would’ve thought that the both of you would go to the same beach?”

Y/N sighed in disappointment while Kakashi rubbed the spot between his eyes “Please don’t tell me you did what I think you did, Aiko.”

“We fell for it.” Y/N crossed her arms, looking extremely bothered by the course of events.

But their words fell on deaf ears as Aiko clasped both of her hands and continued to ogle at the two adults.

“Two rooms.” Sakumo simply stated and Aiko’s happiness was shattered and a look of fear took over.

“So that’s why you booked two rooms.” Kakashi muttered in annoyed disbelief. Later, once everyone had changed into their regular clothes, the group were found seated at the hotel’s cafe with a cigarette stuck between Kakashi’s lips as he watched the people pass by.

“I said I’m sorry!” whined Aiko, “Can’t you two get over it.”

Y/N continued to sip her green tea, unbothered by Aiko’s apology. She placed her cup on the table to take a bite from her chocolate tart.

“It would’ve been cute if you had done this when you were ten but you’re seventeen, you’re an adult.” Reprimanded Y/N but she didn’t sound angry, just bored.

Aiko had a guilty expression but quickly managed to switch it to a happier one, “Well, let’s just enjoy ourselves at the beach. The weather’s gorgeous!”

“Well, I was enjoying my time.” Kakashi pulled the cancer stick from between his lips to blow out a grey cloud of smoke “Until an old hag showed up wearing some teen’s bathing suit.” He smirked.

With a raised eyebrow, Y/N rebutted, “Well, at least I’m not a dirty old pervert who shamelessly flirts with any woman who blinked at him.”

Kakashi scowled before shoving the cigarette back into his mouth. Sakumo just continued to eat his blueberry muffin, seemingly unbothered by the whole ordeal.

“Mom, don’t say that.” Aiko laughed awkwardly as she tried to defuse the tension.

But Kakashi slamming his hands on the table startled her “I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Dad, wait!” Aiko called out for him but it was of no use. Awkwardly, she turned to face her mother “He’s probably being shy since you haven’t seen each other in such a long time.” She ended her statement with a choppy laugh.

“Maybe.” Y/N took a sip from her green tea “I just see him as some perverted old man who can’t own up to his own mistakes.” She then picked up her fork to take another piece of her chocolate tart and that’s when Aiko finally noticed something.

“Why aren’t you wearing your wedding ring?” She asked with a sad tone of voice. Sakumo said nothing but his eyes betrayed him. He was just as curious as his older sister.

Y/N looked down at her hand in disinterest, as if she was staring at a fly going on about its daily life. “Hmm? I took it off.” She replied. A lazy smile tugged on her lips as she explained “I wanted to see if he noticed or not.”

“So you still love him!” Aiko shouted in glee, unbothered by the annoyed glares sent her way by the other patrons of the cafe.

Y/N gently shook her head as she brought her hand closer to her face “Yes...and no.”

“Huh?”

“I told myself if he had noticed then I would’ve believed that there was hope for us. And if he didn’t then…” Y/N didn’t finish her sentence but it was clear what she wanted to say.

Which is why Aiko looked so upset as she yelled “Mom! You can’t be serious!”

Y/N simply shrugged at her daughter’s outburst “We’ve been together for the past hour now and he still hasn’t noticed.” She muttered.

“Maybe he did!” Aiko quickly defended her father, desperately holding onto the thin thread which held her family together.

“See, that’s the thing.” Y/N rested her hands on her lap as she turned to face her daughter “I’m tired of living life of what-ifs. I’m halfway through forty and it’s about time I wrap up this whole separation thing properly, with a divorce.” It was a harsh thing to say to her seventeen year old daughter but Y/N was exhausted. “Maybe even find myself a better man.”

“Mom!”

Y/N paid her daughter no mind and averted her gaze to her youngest child “Don’t you dare end up like your father, Sakumo.”

The silver haired year old wasn’t sure what his mother was saying but he nodded his head nonetheless. He didn’t know what kind of man his father was but he knew he didn’t want to be someone who was loud and noisy and would only wake up at noon. He would miss his Sunday morning cartoons if he did that.

Y/N’s phone brightened at the arrival of a new message, making Aiko comment on the time “Dad’s been gone for a while now. I wonder if he’s okay.”

Y/N shrugged, “Probably fell into the arms of some woman who laughed at his stupid jokes at the beach.”

Aiko scowled at her mother, “Why do you think so lowly of dad?”

Suddenly, a loud burst of laughter startled them. The trio turned their gaze to the entrance of the cafe and, lo and behold, Kakashi stood with two starstruck young women who appeared to be just a few years older than Aiko.

Y/N gave her daughter a look, as if to say “see”.

“I can’t believe the world famous detective Hatake Kakashi is staying at the same hotel as us!” One of the young women, with short blonde hair, gushed.

“Right? All the girls in class are gonna be so jealous!!” The other taller girl agreed, her iPhone clutched tightly between her fingers.

“We’re so lucky!” Giggled the blonde which caused Kakashi to laugh in glee at the way the women openly praised and admired him.

“I’m the lucky one to have such beautiful fans like yourselves.” He added a wink to his statement which had the girls squeal in delight at such a caringly display of fanservice.

Irritated by her husband’s adolescent behavior, Y/N shoved her chair back and stood up “Just as I thought.”

“No, wait, mom!” Aiko rushed to grab her mother’s arm to prevent her from leaving. “He probably ran into his fans on his way back! He’s just being nice.”

Gently, Y/N pulled back her arm and placed her hand on her hip, “Then how do you explain all that sand on his legs?”

Shocked, Aiko turned to face her dad and emitted a sound of disappointment.

“He supposedly washed up when we got back from the beach but his legs are covered in sand.” Y/N wondered aloud “I bet you he spotted one of those young women lying on the sand and he offered to rub sunblock on their backs. Though, I wonder if he brought them back here to show them off and make me jealous?” She snorted.

And for once, Aiko was at a loss for words. So, instead, she got up from her chair and marched up all the way to her father and harshly pinch his ear.

“Ow!” He yelled as he desperately tried to free himself from his daughter’s clutches “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“What are you doing?” Aiko asked instead as she finally let go.

Rubbing his ear to sooth the pain, Kakashi answered, “These two lovely women are part of my fanclub!” He gestured to his right before facing them “Let me introduce you to my family.” He said with a charming smile.

Aiko glared at the trio’s backs as they made their way to their table. Her plan of reuniting her parents and being a family was ruined thanks to these two women and her dad’s insanely high libido. She silently followed after them.

“Let me introduce you to the ladies first.” Kakashi had this lovesick expression and Aiko wanted to wipe it off of his face “The one with the blonde hair is Yumiko and the taller one is Fuyumi.”

Fuyumi offered a small wave while Yumiko grinned at them. She then noticed Sakumo munching away at his muffin, disinterested at the situation at hand, and pinched his cheek, “What a cute little boy!”

Sakumo just pulled away from the college student and rubbed his throbbing cheek. Aiko sniggered. There’s one thing that her brother hated the most in his life and that was being touched without his consent.

“Is he your son?” The blonde asked. To which Kakashi proudly nodded.

“He sure is. He takes after his handsome father!” He laughed loudly.

Aiko scoffed on her mother’s behalf “I’m his daughter, Aiko.” She introduced, hoping her mean demeanor would ward off the two women.

“It’s nice to meet you, Aiko.” Yumiko offered a friendly smile.

“And what about her?” Fuyumi asked in polite curiosity.

Kakashi briefly glanced to where Y/N was sitting and lazily gestured at her, “That’s Y/N. My-”

“His ex-wife.”

Yumiko looked surprised as she asked “You got divorced?!”

Before Y/N could respond, Aiko held her hands up and hurriedly explained “It was a joke!”

Kakashi pulled a cigarette stick from his packet and stuck it between his lips “Well, she’s not really joking. We’re halfway there.”

Out of nowhere, a hand was tightly clasped onto Kakashi’s shoulder “Oi, pervert!” A voice growled from behind “How dare you flirt with my fiance?”

Had Kakashi been younger and his previous self, the man would’ve received a suckerpunch to the jaw. Instead, Kakashi simply freed his shoulder and stepped a few ways to the side, “First of all, I wasn’t flirting with Fuyumi, it was Yumiko.” He huffed a ringlette of grey smoke “Second, I’m the famous detective Hatake Kakashi.” Instantly, the man’s demeanor changed as his lips were stretched upwards in delight “Really? I thought you looked familiar, I’m a big fan!”

Kakashi said nothing, brushing imaginary dust off of his shoulder.

“Hey! You guys wanna have lunch with us?” Yumiko suggested.

Before Aiko could turn down the blonde’s offer as she already had made reservations for a table for two at some restaurant she read online that was suitable for couples, her father instantly accepted Yumiko’s offer “We sure do!”

Lunch was a lively event filled with high pitched laughter from the young women and drunken guffaws from Kakashi as he entertained the young college women with stories of his youth during the police academy days.

The two gentlemen with the young women asked the now private detective everything they wanted to know about the thrilling and dangerous life of a former police officer turned detective. From types of guns to how did dead bodies look in real life and just how accurate were movies and t.v shows, they asked them all.

Y/N, however, just held onto her mist covered drink of lukewarm coke as she tuned out the giggle of the women that were half her age and blocked the image of a blushing Kakashi. Despite Fuyumi being engaged, she didn’t mind being extra friendly with the silver haired detective. Ridiculous.

Aiko watched the adults with a mix of worry and embarrassment in her eyes. She was worried about her mother and how she’s silently handling the situation at hand. It was no secret that her father was a shameless womanizer and the biggest drunk in all of Japan. Aiko was also embarrassed by her father making a fool out of himself just to hear the melodic praises falling from the young women’s luscious lips.

Sakumo seemed unbothered by the whole ordeal as he continued to eat his Kid’s Meal and observed the people occupying the restaurant. It was a hobby of his, to people watch and try to memorize every little detail in his surroundings. An unusual hobby for a seven year old, yes, but the Hatake family embraced it with open arms.

“I still can’t believe you’re all in the same scuba diving club.” Kakashi stated after gulping down half of his jug of beer.

“Yeah, we formed the club during our freshman year in college.” A young man with a middle part spoke. He was named Akira and he was engaged to Fuyumi. Akira had a happy-go-lucky kind of attitude and he was always smiling. “We all went diving earlier today.” Kakashi had a shit eating grin as he stated, “Then I guess today was your last day to enjoy the single life as divers since you and Fuyumi are getting married next week.”

“Dad!” Aiko hissed by Kakashi ignored her.

Akira smiled bashfully at the detective “We’re actually going again tomorrow. We’re kind of hoping that this tradition will continue even after we’re married.” He glanced at his future wife before he looked away with a tint of a red blush on his cheeks.

“Oh?” Kakashi lifted an eyebrow “I’ll give you two months before you change your mind. Marriage life is no walk in the park.”

Aiko, appalled by her father’s words, kicked him under the table which caused the silver haired man to hiss in pain. When he glared at his daughter, she just harrumphed at him and looked away.

“Now, now, Aiko. There’s no need to be upset.” Y/N spoke after not having said a single word for the past hour “Marriage life isn’t for everyone and some people are jealous of what other people have so they try to rain on their parade.” She gave a sly glance at Kakashi who just looked away in annoyance.

Sensing the tension, Yumiko redirected the topic of their conversation back to the diving club, “The big issue was getting Akira to join the diving club!” She chuckled, “That dork couldn’t swim whatsoever!”

Kakashi blinked at her “Can’t swim? Wouldn’t he drown?”

But the short haired woman just shook her head at him, “Nope!”

Akira’s friend, Tango, then added, “Even if you can’t swim, you just need to dive. After all, there is an oxygen tank attached.” And jugged down the remaining of his beer.

“All Akira can do is float ever since we were kids.” Fuyumi giggled behind her hand while her fiance whined at her with a cute little blush.

“Eh, since you were kids?” Aiko blinked at the couples with eyes which twinkled in excitement, “Then does that mean you were childhood friends?”

The two looked at the teen “Yeah.” Fuyumi replied. “We were.”

“Woah!” The twinkle of excitement in her eyes intensified “From childhood friends to a married couple, how romantic! That’s exactly like mom and dad!” She gushed as she not so subtly sneaked glances at her parents to agree with her.

“Childhood friends, huh?” Kakashi snorted “I wonder what sick bastard had fooled so many young couples by romanticizing such a notion when it’s nothing but a complete nightmare.”

Y/N tucked a lock of hair behind her ear “Only childhood friends stupid enough to actually carry out their childish fantasies and marry their friends know of such trauma.”

Kakashi then faced the soon-to-be-husband-and-wife “Well, this doesn’t concern you. However-” He then fished out his business card from his front pocket “If you ever doubted your wife’s faithfulness and wanted someone to trail after her…” He didn’t finish his sentence and instead slid his card across the table.

Instantly, another card was placed next to it as Y/N informed the couple of her assistance as a divorce lawyer “If you happened to get a divorce and you wanted to milk your husband dry of all of his money then feel free to contact me and I’ll be more than happy to help!”

The two separated couples engaged in a heated glaring contest as they both shoved their business cards into the young couple’s faces. Unaware of the uneasy atmosphere they’ve created nor the look of embarrassment and sadness masking their daughter’s expression.

Even young Sakumo felt his stomach drop at his parents’ words, even though he didn’t fully understand what they were saying. All that he knew was that his parents didn’t like each other and they wanted other people to be like them. Alone and miserable.  

It was at that moment that Toga decided to awkwardly clear his throat and ask, “By the way, whatever happened to Tadashi? Haven’t seen him since this morning.”

Akira used that moment to break eye contact with the glaring duo and turned to face Toga, thankful to have an excuse to change topics “He went snorkeling.”

“Snorkeling?” Kakashi asked, a new jug of beer in his hand. “Isn’t it bad if you went snorkeling without eating?”

It was Yumiko who decided to answer, “Yeah, he's a bit of a weirdo like that. Honestly, it’s like watching over a five year old.” She chuckled.

The college friends all laughed as they pictured an image in their head of their friend, Tadashi, throwing a temper tantrum because he had to get out of the ocean to eat but, instead, stubbornly remained in the water and continued his activities.

Things died down after that. Toga and Kakashi were discussing about dogs and which products were best suitable for them while Aiko asked her mother if she and Sakumo could get dessert.

“Hey, Yumiko.” At her name being called, the short haired college student looked up from her phone and into Fuyumi’s pleading eyes “Sorry, but could you please fetch me a towel from our room?”

“Huh?” Before Yumkio could question her friend and her request, Fuyumi pushed back her chair and stood up from her seat.

“Where are you going?” Her fiance asked with slight concern lacing his voice.

“Getting a little bit bored so I thought I should go diving again before the sun sets.” She answered as she pulled down her shorts and revealed her yellow bikini bottom.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? You just had a heavy lunch.” Yumiko worried her bottom lip as she tried, without success, to stop her best friend.

Fuyumi waved her off “I’m fine.” And placed her goggles over eyes “I won’t take long!” And with that, she rushed out into the sand and jumped into the sea.

The remaining occupants had remained at the restaurant. Choosing to wait for their heavy lunch to digest before they went swimming again.

Akira had joined Toga and Kakashi’s conversation on dogs and dog care before switching to their favorite female celebrities while Aiko texted away on her phone, to her school crush no doubt.

Y/N was staring out at sea, lost in her thoughts.

Whenever she would encounter happy and healthy married couples, she often found her mind wandering off over the same topic. What would her life be like if her parents hadn’t moved from the Middle East all the way to Japan for work when she was just two years old.

Would she have found love in a different man? A happier and more memorable marriage? Or would she fall in love with Kakashi at some point in her life despite being on different sides of the planet, chained by the heavy shackles of the red string of fate?

She stole a glance at her tipsy husband and scoffed silently. If she were to be fated to Kakashi in another life, she hoped that his personality would be better than what it is currently. It would be cruel of the universe to have her be paired up with a drunken womanizer, again.

It was an hour before sunset that Sakumo had lifted his head from his Nintendo switch at the sound of crashing waves and announced “The sea is angry.”

Aiko ruffled his white tuft of hair as Akira stood up from his seat and trailed his eyes over the occupants of the beach “I don’t see Fuyumi. I hope she’s alright.”

“Oh, Tadashi!” Yumiko suddenly gaped and began to wave at someone coming from behind Kakashi “You made it!”

Tadashi, a tall man with a tanned skin, laughed boisterously “I sure did and I’m starving!”

Yumiko just shook her head at him “Sit down and grab a menu.”

“Okay, mom.” Tadashi did as told and that’s when he asked “Where’s Fuyumi?”

“She went diving.” Akira responded.

And right at that moment, a scream could be heard coming from the sea. All heads turned towards the sound and were shocked to see Fuyumi struggling to keep afloat.

“Oh my god!” Akira yelled, “She’s drowning!” And rushed to save her but was pulled back by Toga.

“You idiot!” Shouted Toga as he shook the panicking Akira “You can’t swim! You’ll get yourself killed!”

Aiko, Yumiko and Tadashi chose that moment to run past them and jump into the sea and swim to where Fuyumi was to save her.

Once they were safe on land, it was discovered that a poisonous snake had bitten Fuyumi. After having a lengthy and angry discussion with the hotel manager, it was discovered that the snake that bit Fuyumi was not a native of the sea and was brought or purchased by someone.

“Wait, you’re not trying to say-” Yumiko gasped and covered her mouth with her hands as her eyes widened in shock.

“Are you saying that someone tried to murder Fuyumi?” Belowed Tadashi as he slammed his fsit on the counter.

Toga was on the phone talking to Akira who had went to the hospital with his fiance once the ambulance had been called.

“Hatake-san!” the young college student grabbed onto the detective’s arm as her honey colored eyes rapidly filled with unshed tears “Please!”

She didn’t have to say anything else as Kakashi had already suspected foul play. He didn’t frequent this kind of beach but something Aiko had mentioned earlier had troubled him. “There was something around the snake’s neck, like a pair of wings.” She said when the hotel manager had pulled out a book of all the animals habitating the beach. She had found a picture of the snake that had looked like the one that was swimming near where Fuyumi was drowning.

“That’s impossible.” The hotel manager stressed, “This type of snake couldn’t grow wings, nor did any other snake!”

“Maybe it was seaweed stuck to its head?” Yumiko guessed once she stood next to Aiko to get a closer look at the picture.

“Seaweed or wings, I’m impressed that you’re able to remember the tiniest detail. Well, I expect nothing less from the daughter of a world famous detective!” Kakashi had bragged with a wide grin stretched across his face.

“Oh, is that so?” Y/N spoke. She brought her hand up to her face as she examined it in what looked like boredom. “World famous detective but you failed to notice the missing ring on your wife’s finger.”

Kakashi however paid her no mind and decided to console a distressed Yumiko.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her husband’s carelessness while Aiko shook her head at her parents’ childish antics.

It took almost half a day for Kakashi to solve the attempted murder case. After hours of intensive research and careful observation, he had deduced that Yumiko was the one who attempted to kill Fuyumi.

After he had explained how Yumiko had managed to hide the snake in her room, bring it with her when Fuyumi had asked her to bring her a towel and then attached the snake to attack Fuyumi when they went to save her, the young college woman broke down.

Yumiko confessed that she was extremely jealous of Fuyumi because she was in love with Akira. She was enraged when Fuyumi had asked for her help to come up with a plan where Fuyumi pretended to drown and see if Akira would risk his life to save her. Knowing that Akira couldn’t swim and could actually die from this stupid scheme, she knew she had to get rid of Fuyumi.

Luckily, no one had died in the end. Fuyumi woke up later that night and had apologized to Yumiko and had confessed to being selfish for abusing Akira’s love.

With tears rolling down her cheeks, Yumiko whispered an apology and was quietly escorted to the police station where she would pay the price for her crime.

“Your deduction is as incredible as always!” Aiko, despite the horrific incident which had occurred earlier in the day, looked positively radiant. “You easily solved the case!”

“Hmph,” Aiko and Kakashi both turned to face Y/N, one with a confused expression while the other looked annoyed “You managed to solve that case easily but you have yet to notice that I’m not wearing my wedding ring. How thoughtless.”

Kakashi let out a long sigh and shoved his hand down his pocket to fish out a diamond band tossing it to Y/N “I found your stupid ring. Now quit bugging me about it.”

With a shocked expression, Y/N hurriedly reached out to snatch the ring midair “You found it...how?”

Kakashi stuffed his pinky finger into his ear “I found it under the beach umbrella you were using.” He answered with a monotone voice.

“But how did you know I dropped it?” Y/N asked in a quiet tone of voice “How do you know I didn’t intentionally leave it at home or sold it?”

Kakashi sighed yet again “Stupid.” He then crossed his arms, “You were wearing your glasses even though you’ve repeatedly stated you hated wearing your glasses at the beach. And since you’re nearsighted, I knew you were looking for something since it's not uncommon for people to lose their accessories at the beach.”

“Ah!” Aiko’s eyes grew wide in realization “Is that why your legs were covered in sand when you returned to the restaurant? You were searching for mom’s ring, weren’t you?”

“It’s not like I had any other choice. Your mom wouldn’t stop waving her left hand around and kept using her left hand even though she was right handed.”

A blush quickly appeared on Y/N’s cheeks “I couldn’t help it. I just wanted your-”

At that moment, a group of young women squealing Kakashi’s name appeared “Hatake Kakashi! Can we have your autograph?”

Instantly, Y/N’s blush disappeared and a scowl appeared on her face at the way her husband made a fool out of himself in front of the young women. Not wanting to hurt herself anymore, turned in her heels and made her way through the hotel exit.

“Wait, mom!” Aiko called out after her mother but Y/N refused to stop “Dad, mom’s leaving!” Kakashi, however, was too engrossed by his beautiful fans to listen to Aiko.

“Stupid.” Sakumo commented and Aiko couldn’t help but agree.

-

The next time the Hatake family had a second encounter with Y/N was a couple of months later. Summer was about to end and fall was just around the corner. Wanting to take advantage of the remaining summer days, Aiko had reserved a weekend getaway at some three star hotel in the next town over.

The trio had spent the whole morning at the pool. Sakumo played with the other kids while Aiko laid on a pool raft to get a nice tan for her body. Kakashi, on the other hand, sat on a beach chair and shamelessly ogled at all the attractive looking women surrounding him.

Aiko, who had just exited the pool to drink her hourly bottle of water to keep herself hydrated, had spotted her dad’s lustful gaze and flung her towel right in her face. The icy glare she had received from her father did nothing to frighten her or crumble her annoyed demeanor.

“We’re leaving!” The young teenger commanded, leaving no room for arguments.

His mood ruined, Kakashi just heaved out a sigh and followed after his daughter who waved at his youngest to join them. It was nearing lunch time anyway and he was practically starving.

“Don’t you feel bad for mom?” Aiko asked for the billionth time. The trio had already had their lunch and were at the hotel mall for a quick shopping spree. She didn’t stop asking the same exact question ever since they had exited the pool.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” Kakashi shrugged his shoulders, seeming unbothered by his daughter’s reprimanding. “Besides, it’s not like she hasn’t been on a few dates of her own. It’s only natural after all.” Kakashi’s chuckle of amusement of him picturing his wife going on multiple dates which turned into royal disasters was cut short when he ran into Sakumo.

“Mom.” Following his son’s finger which was pointed to the left, Kakashi’s amusement vanished from his face at the sight before him. His expression turned into one of surprise at her sudden appearance before it quickly turned sour.

Y/N was in the men’s section of some designer store that Kakashi couldn’t pronounce its name. She was a pale blue sundress that made her eyes pop. Her hair was let loose in elegant curls and a tiny bit of makeup adorned her face. In her right hand was a maroon colored bowtie while her left hand held another necktie in a dark shade of blue. She was showing both neckties to some man Kakashi had never seen before. The bright smile she displayed didn’t sit well with him whatsoever.

A little voice at the back of his head reminded him that Y/N was a grown woman and she was allowed to see whoever she wanted to see. Regardless if it was in a romantic manner or not. And as his silver wedding ring that he wore in a thin thread around his neck reminded him, the two of them were separated for the time being so he had no say in the matter. Even when they aren’t technically divorced, they both have the right to do whatever they want. So, seeing her with another man shouldn’t bother him. Just as he had managed to calm himself down and convince himself to walk away, Aiko chose that moment to barge into the store, all high and mighty “Mom!”

The two adults were so surprised by Aiko’s sudden outburst that they literally jumped in fright. Kakashi withheld his snigger because he didn’t want to appear as petty.

“Aiko? Sakumo? What are you guys doing here?” Y/N asked after calming down from her little fright.

“Don’t I get a greeting?” Kakashi’s left eye twitch in annoyance. Maybe he should be petty afterall since that’s how his wife is playing it.

Wanting to avoid the prying eyes of the other patrons, Y/N rushed everyone to the hotel’s restaurant located on the rooftop.

Once everyone was seated and their orders were placed, the Hatake family wouldn’t stop staring at Y/N and her...accompanying friend.

“So, mom. You didn’t tell me you had a new friend.” Aiko’s voice had a hint of accusation. As a mother, Y/N shouldn’t feel intimidated by her children or her husband’s strong gazes.

“Kaori-kun offered to accompany me while I shop and wait for our other lawyer friends. He works at the firm with me and he’s new and unfamiliar with the area.” The sweat drop didn’t help Y/N in appearing innocent whatsoever.

“Kaori-kun?” Kakashi’s mutter went unnoticed. His cigarette dangling between his lips as he took a deep inhale and puffed out grey ringlets “So, is he your new boy toy or something?”

A flush of anger tinted Y/N’s cheeks as she glared at her former husband, “He’s a friend.” She spat. Though, Kakashi still appeared unconvinced.

“Then what’s with the necktie you were buying earlier?” A sharp tone took his words and Y/N briefly wondered what Kakashi was thinking. Even though they’ve been separated for the past three years, she still knew Kakashi like the back of her hand. It’s just that, she had never seen Kakashi act this way before.

“A friend of mine asked me to run this errand for her.” Y/N calmly explained, trying not to let Kakashi’s earlier remark get to her. “And since I’m not familiar with men’s wear, I was asking for Kaori-kun’s opinion.”

Kaori, although appearing awkward by the whole ordeal or the fact that he felt intimidated by Kakashi’s glare, nodded his head in agreement. “Though, I really thought it was Y/N-sepnai’s shy way of buying me a present.”

“Kaori-kun!” Y/N gaped and could feel the blush rapidly growing on her cheeks. She glanced at Kakashi and was surprised to see his dark expression directed at Kaori. Aiko was no help either as she, too, glared at her colleague. Sakumo, bless his soul, was playing games on his phone. Unbothered and uninterested by the situation at hand.

Thankfully, the waitress chose that time to place their beverages on the table and for once in the past eight years which had led to their separation, Y/N noticed that Kakashi didn’t spare a single glance at the waitress despite the flirtatious looks she was giving him.

Shortly after the waitress had left, the glares were still strong and the awkward silence was suffocating. Y/N twirled her straw in her virgin pina colada, too tensed by the silence to really do anything.

Thankfully, a high pitched voice interrupted the maddening silence “There you are!” And a woman with shoulder length hair appeared with a delighted smile, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you two!”

“Michiko-chan.” Y/N sighed in relief. If Michiko had arrived, then her other friends were here and her and Kaori could easily excuse themselves to another table and escape those harsh and judgemental glares from her family.

“Come on, your highness. The rest are waiting!” Michiko tugged at Y/N’s arm to pull her up from her chair but Sakumo’s words caused her to halt.

“Highness?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

“You didn’t know, little boy.” The brown haired woman smiled down at him, “Y/N-senpai is the reigning queen of the judicial branch. Her icy demeanor and debatable skills are envied and admired by many, if not all lawyers and judges in this city. Earning her the rightful title: Queen of Lawyers.”

Aiko and Sakumo gaped at their mother in awe. They were well aware that their mother was a lawyer but they didn’t know just how successful she truly was. They were seeing her in a new light and their respect for her increased tenfold.

“Stop it already.” Y/N muttered as she shyly took a sip from her drink. “You guys are the only ones who call me that.”

“Actually, the police call you that too.” A tall and broad man with a buzzcut spoke up behind Michiko “They’d rather take a bullet than disappoint you.” He sniggered to himself.

Kakashi’s expression soured as he put out his dying cigarette and lit up a newer one.

“But, Y/N might be facing some competition.” Aiko blinked at the handsome man, “Eh, what do you mean?”

“Well, Michiko-chan is our up and coming lawyer who has yet to lose a case. If Y/N is the queen then Michiko-chan is the princess.”

“Heiji.” Y/N whined at the taller man, her blush from earlier intensified making it more prominent and difficult to miss.

“It’s the truth, senpai.” Michiko smiled at her colleague, “Though, I could only hope to be as successful and as beautiful as you. I’ve got a long road ahead of me!” The two other men laughed and threw in a word or two of encouragement for Michiko, all the while Y/N continued to blush and Kakashi continued to glare.

“But that’s nothing compared to the success of the famous detective Hatake Kakashi.” Michiko turned to face the detective and batted her eyes at the man “I’m a big fan.”

Kakashi shrugged, “I’m just a humble man married to an arrogant queen.” The glare Y/N sent his way did not phase him.

“Forgive me,” Y/N spoke with a lazy smile, “I may be arrogant but at least I wasn’t stupid enough to remain with a manwhore of a detective who couldn’t say no to a pair of tits and good booze.”

“Moth-er!” but the two ignored their daughter’s outburst as they laughed in haughtiness at their own jabs against each other.

It was Kaori who cut in into their mocking laughter, “Oh, come on, senpai. Don’t act like you hate the guy!” Before Y/N could stop him from saying anything further, he continued, “You literally have a scrapbook of every last article regarding Hatake-san’s cases.”

Kakashi’s demeanor relaxed and his gaze softened while his wife lightly smacked her younger colleague, “Kaori-kun!”

Seeing that both of her parents had stopped fighting and not wanting to miss this opportunity of getting her parents back together, Aiko helpfully added, “That’s just like dad!” Her mother turned to face her in surprise with panicky eyes, “Dad secretly reads all the articles about mom’s cases every night before bed.”

“Oi, Aiko!” But the young girl ignored her father’s outburst. Too pleased with herself for exposing her dad’s “not-so-secret” secret.

“Well, in that case, “Heiji interrupted, “How about we all have dinner together?”

The couple were too shy to turn down the tall lawyer’s offer and simply nodded their heads as they stared down at their table. Later that night, when everyone had too much to eat to the point of a stomach ache and too much to drink to be able to walk on their two feet without wobbling, Y/N had had just about enough with dinner.

In the three years she had been separated and tolerating Aiko’s schemes of reuniting her with her husband, Y/N finally allowed herself to hope that she could see a future with her still married and deeply in love with Kakashi. That they were back as a healthy and loving family. She allowed herself to spread her wings and fly to her dreams only to come crashing down in fire flames at the shitshow that was occuring before her tired eyes.

“Michiko-chan, how about I become your boyfriend?” Kakashi slurred happily, his arm draped around the lawyer princess’s shoulder.

“H-Hatake-san.” Michicko chanced a glance at her senpai and almost leapt from her skin at the murderous glare she was receiving from Y/N.

“You’re much cuter than someone I know.”

“Dad!” Aiko whined and frantically tried to stop her father from further embarrassing himself, her mother and everyone else at the table.

Silently, Y/N shouldered her purse and made her way towards the exit of the restaurant. So much for the weekend getaway with her co-workers. If she had known that she would run into Kakashi and her family, then she would’ve turned down Heiji’s offer and spared herself the heartache of seeing Kakashi making a fool out of himself at any woman who bats their eyes at him.

“Mom!” Y/N didn’t bother to reply to her daughter as she chased after her “Wait up!”  And continued her way to her bedroom for some shut eye and to forget this night had ever happened.

“Don’t get mad at dad! You know how he is when he gets drunk.” Aiko tried to defend her father with her endless list of excuses but that didn’t stop Y/N from walking her way to her room. “And today you were with another man...buying a necktie.”

Y/N let out a heavy sigh, “It’s for your father.”

“What?” Aiko blinked at her mother. She watched with watery eyes as her mother rummaged her purse and pulled a long and rectangular box wrapped in a baby blue paper wrap.

“Tomorrow's our anniversary.” Y/N faced her daughter

“I feel so stupid buying something for that asshole.” Y/N explained, “I’m so angry at myself for being so weak. For not being able to get over your dad and move on. For holding onto that tiny glimmer of hope. I’m so stupid.” Y/N desperately tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill.

“Then why didn’t you?” Aiko asked, unaware of the harshness in her eyes.

“I felt sorry for you and Sakumo.” Y/N offered a weak smile, “I thought that maybe I would forgive him when I see him tomorrow when I drop by his office. After our trip to the beach, I honestly thought that maybe he had changed. Guess I was wrong.”

“Mom, you should be more understanding dad went through a lot-” Aiko stopped herself at the sound of her mother’s scoff.

“Understanding? You want me to be more understanding?” Aiko’s throat tightened up at the sheen layer of tears in her mother’s eyes “I was more than understanding, Aiko. I was there for him when Rin and Obito died. I was there for him when the police station fired him due his lack of displence and incompetency-showing up to work hungover, drinking on the job and failing to solve any of the cases assigned to him. I was there for him.”

Y/N didn’t mean to glare at her daughter but the memories of that dark period in her life was very painful “I put up with your father’s downfall, pushed through Sakumo’s birth and supported my newborn child and grieving husband and I wouldn’t have mind continuing, Aiko. Really, I wouldn’t have. I was willing to put up with his drunken ass even though he knows how I feel about alcohol. But coming home drunk smelling like another woman? I couldn’t-” Her choked sob ripped through Aiko’s heart “He never cheated. Your father isn’t that heartless but that didn’t mean he didn’t stare at any woman in his line of vision. Didn’t stop him from making a flirtatious remark or two.”

There was a long stretch of silence. Y/N was trying to collect herself and stop the tears from flowing, slowing down her breathing. Aiko on the other hand was unpacking all of the emotional baggage of her mother. She never thought to stop and think how her mother was feeling. At a very young age, she didn’t notice the strain in her parents’ relationship. All that she knew was that one moment her mother was studying her court cases and seeing her father off before he went to work and the next, her mother stormed off with tears flowing down her cheeks with two suitcases in each hand. After that, she had to step in and take over the role of a mother. It wasn’t easy.

“I’m sorry.” Aiko whispered, gaze downcast as she held back her tears “I was ignorant and only focused on dad. I didn’t know that you were hurting just as much.”

“It’s fine.” Y/N sniffled, “It isn’t something you should burden yourself with.”

“You’re wrong.” The teenager finally stared into her mother’s eyes, “I should be involved in this. You’re my parents and I love you both!”

“Aiko.” Y/N sighed, not sure how to get past her daughter’s stubbornness.

Suddenly, Aiko snatched the box from her mother’s hand-ignoring her little yelp of protest-and stared at her mother with fiery determination, “I’ll give it to dad for you if you’re too scared.”

“Hold it right there!” Her mother said sternly. Her lips were stretched downwards into a frown that Aiko was certain that her mother often wore in the courtroom to appear more professional. “I understand that you want to help but I should be the one who’s going to give him the present.”

Y/N was becoming impatient and was regretting purchasing the stupid tie and giving into her daughter’s schemes of rekinlding her and Kakashi’s love. After that whole scene in the hallway, the two had returned to the restaurant only to find it empty. Save for little Sakumo who was watching a video on his phone.

“Did everyone leave?” Aiko asked and almost perfectly mirrored her mother’s frown at her father’s negligence.

“Dad said he was feeling tired and wanted to sleep.” Meaning that Kakashi was very drunk and wanted to sleep it off.  

Sighing, Aiko picked up Sakumo in her arms, “He’s probably in his room. Let’s give him his present and call it a night.”

Kakashi’s room was empty. After knocking on his door for nearly ten minutes, Y/N decided that he must not be in. She asked Aiko if she could open the door with her card key but the two had booked two separate rooms.

With a taste of bile in the back of her throat, the trio decided to see if Kakashi was still with Michiko.

“I’m sorry to bother you so late,” Y/N’s eyes were wide in worry. “But have you seen my husband?”

Michiko glanced over her shoulders, “I don’t think so?” She replied as she opened the door even more, as if to show Y/N that she was completely alone.  “Is something wrong?”

“Our dad’s missing!” Aiko stated, Sakumo nodding his head in agreement. He looked just as concerned as his mother. “We’ve checked everywhere but we couldn’t find him.”

“Maybe he was walking around and fell asleep somewhere?” Michiko tried to help with her optimism which Aiko was grateful for.

When the trio had walked away, a wicked smirk etched its way across Michiko’s lips as she quietly closed her door.

Sorry, Y/N. Michiko thought to herself as she walked further into her room, The only way that could beat you is if I became you. The only thing I need is…

In her bed slept a drunken detective with his silver hair tousled across the pillow, his snores were loud and deep.

The chuckle Michiko emitted was one of cruelty.

If your husband was discovered in my bed, you’ll be devastated and too heartbroken to be at the top of your game. And that’s when I’ll swoop in and steal your crown as the Queen of Lawyers.

The trio had literally searched everywhere; the lobby, the park, the swimming pool and Y/N’s lawyer friends but Kakashi was nowhere to be found. Y/N’s was beginning to panic, thinking that something bad might have happened. Like a vengeful criminal she had sent to jail had murdered her husband in revenge.

Upon seeing Y/N’s expression of distress, Heiji and Kaori decided to help with her search for Kakashi despite it being close to midnight.

After searching for nearly two hours, Kakashi’s search party decided to ask Michiko for her help. Hoping that Kakashi might have gone to her room in his drunken haze.

“Do not disturb.” The adults heard Sakumo read the sign on the door. “It wasn’t there before.”

Heiji chuckled, “She probably went to bed and didn’t want anyone to disturb her.” And ruffled his silky silver locks.

“You don’t think…” Kaori muttered to himself. But Aiko had heard him and couldn’t help but to glare at him. She had never liked the man since the second she had him with her mother.

Y/N probably heard Kaori’s mumble as she had pulled out her phone from her purse and dialed Kakashi’s number with a heavy scowl on her face.

Two seconds later, the ringing of a phone came from behind Michiko’s door. Anger flashed in Y/N’s eyes but she quickly composed herself. “That’s Kakashi’s phone. I’m sure of it.”

“N-No.” Aiko looked closed to tears.

“Kaori-kun, please run to the front desk and get a spare card key.” Y/N instructed

After the hotel employee had scanned the card car, Y/N opened the door but was stopped by the keychain. “It’s locked.” She tried to get a closer look at the inside of the room and what she saw had her screaming at the top of her head.

“Y/N-senpai?” Kaori itched closer and held Y/N’s arm. “What is it?” Peering into the room, all the color drained from his face. Without second thoughts, Kaori kicked the door open, breaking the keychain and rushed into the room.

“Michiko-san! Michiko-san!” Kaori shook the young woman repeatedly to no avail.

“Wait.” Y/N crouched down Michiko’s body and placed her index and middle finger on her neck, “There’s no pulse. She’s dead.”

Heiji let out a gasp of surprise while Aiko hurried to shield Sakumo’s vision from the dead body laying on the ground.

At that moment, a groan can be heard coming from the bed, “Why is it so noisy?” and Kakashi’s head popped from under the blanket.

“Dad!”

“H-honey?” Y/N’s eyes were as wide as saucers as she quickly understood the situation at hand.

Kakashi just tilted his head in confusion at everyone’s shocked expressions. Yawning, Kakashi climbed out of bed, “Just what’s going on here?”

“Honey, wait!” Kakashi halted at Y/N’s sharp command. If he could see himself in the mirror, he would see that he looked very surprised. Whether it was because of his wife calling him a term of endearment or because of her harsh command, it was unknown. “The phone cord over there could be the murder weapon.”

“Murder weapon…?” Kakashi glanced down at the phone cord. “What are you talking about?” he followed Y/N’s gaze and was horrified to see Michikio’s dead body.

“We found her dead.” Y/N answered her husband’s unasked question, “There’s a thick mark on her neck that resembles the phone could. Possible death was strangulation.”

When the police had came and Michiko’s body was taken away, the crime was instantly pinned on Kakashi seeing as there wasn’t anyone else inside the room at the time of the murder.

“Dad didn’t do it!” Aiko pleaded with the police. “Please, he couldn’t hurt anyone! Right, mom?”

“Criminal Law, Article 199.” Y/N spoke with a cold voice. “If one committed a murder, he will have a life sentence with a minimum of three years solitary confianment with no chance of parole. In the worst case scenario, execution.”

“Mom!” But Y/N ignored her daughter as she glared up at her husband.

“I’m sorry, detective Hatake.” A young police officer who couldn’t be older than twenty two years old cuffed Kakashi’s hands, “All evidence points to you so we have to take you down to the station.”

Kakashi allowed himself to be escorted with dignity, ignoring the judgmental and disapproving stares from Y/N’s friends.

“Y/N-senpai,” Kaori stood next to his friend and superior “Are you going to be his attorney?”

“Sorry but I’ll pass.” Y/N crossed her arms, “I don’t want to defend a shameless drunken womanizer turned murder.”

“How could you say that!” Aiko cried, “He’s your husband!”

“Oh really? Because for the past three years, it didn’t feel like it.” Y/N screamed. “I can’t ruin my reputation over a man like him. What would all of my fellow feminsit say if I had defended a man like him?”

Kakashi harrumphed, “I don’t want to be defended by a cold hearted bitch either.” It was a low blow but the detective didn’t care. “If you show your face at the station with no apparent reason, I won’t be too kind to you.” Before he could exit the room, Kaori spoke.

“I refuse to believe that Hatake-san could do such a thing.” The silver haired detective glanced behind his shoulder, “I’ll be his attorney.” And followed the man out of the room.

Once everyone had exited-save for the young police officer-Michiko’s room and Y/N had sent Aiko and Sakumo to their room, she began to investigate the scene of the crime.

Even though she had made a big show of being mad at Kakashi and taking a few jabs at his pride, she couldn’t believe that her husband was a murderer. So, she took it upon herself to clear his name before the media outlet got wind of the situation at hand.

“So, you still love him?” Y/N ignored the police officer and continued her investigation. Honestly, if she could she would’ve kicked him out but she needed him here with her if she wanted to solve the crime and find the actual murderer without having any biased judgement.

The two continued their thorough investigation for nearly four hours. The sun was beginning to rise and the birds started their day with melodic chirps. Y/N and the young police officer were exhausted but they’ve finally cracked the case. Once they were confident with their deduction, they called everyone-sans for Kakashi as he was still at the police station being interrogated- back to Michiko’s room.

The two had discovered that Kaori was the murder and in explained in full detail how he had committed his perfect locked room murder.

Kaori’s face went pale as he listened to Y/N and the police’s deduction. His body began to shake and sweat began to collect at his forehead and underarm at the steel look he received from Y/N. Despite all of that, Kaori couldn’t help but to stare in awe at Y/N.

“Now I know what it's like to be confronted by the Queen of Lawyers.” Kaori said breathlessly, “You were amazing.”

“Thank you.” Y/N replied not too unkindly, “I just don’t know what was your motive. Though, I suspect it’s the current case she’s working on.”

Kaori heaved a heavy sigh as he slid to the ground in defeat. “Yeah, the factory she’s defending will be built in my hometown. The citizens have been protesting for years and I wanted them to win no matter what. When I started working here and learned that Michiko was in charge of the case. I knew I had to have her gone.”

He looked at Y/N, the senpai he admired so much, “I was planning on making it look like a suicide but I was startled to see Hatake-san passed out on her bed. It was the perfect opportunity to pin the crime on him.” He then smiled at her, “I just didn’t think that Y/N-senpai still loved her husband so much to the point of defending him.”

Y/N crouched down in front of the criminal, “While I understand why you did it, Michiko took the case as a job. There was no animosity.” She spoke with dejection. “Did you have to kill her?”

“If she had really taken it as a job then, no. I wouldn’t have killed her.” His expression became dark, “But when I learned that she was harassing people, my people, to increase her reputation as the ice princess and beat you, I knew I had to do something.”

Y/N’s stared at him in confusion, “To beat me?”

“Yeah.” Kaori lowered his gaze, “The reason she brought Hatake-san to her room was for that reason as well. She wanted to break you in every way possible and see you fall.”

“I c-can’t believe it.”

Kaori then pulled himself up and dusted his pants off, “Although, that would have worked for me as I’ve been wanting to to be mine for a long time, I just couldn’t bear the thought of seeing you so heartbroken.”

The blush on Y/N’s cheeks appeared unintentionally. She was too shell-shocked to say anything. All that she could do was watch as the policemen cuffed Kaori and escorted him to the police station.

Later that afternoon, Kakashi was released from the station with sincere apologies from the police as they personally drove him back to the hotel. Stepping into the pool area of the hotel to unwind after a long and exhausting night, he bumped into the young police officer from the night before.

“Hatake-san!” he greeted in delight, “Your wife was amazing-”

“We’re not together.”

“She managed to gather all of the evidence and discover who the true criminal was all on her own.” He smiled brightly at the irritated detective. “I expect nothing less from the wife of world famous detective Hatake Kakashi!” and then winked at him.

Kakashi rubbed his temple at the headache that formed rapidly. “Speaking of,” he interrupted the police officer’s rambles, “Where...is she?”

The office gave him a sly smirk, “She’s over there.” And pointed to a spot behind Kakashi. Turning, he spotted Y/N sitting at a table near the edge of the pool. Her back was facing him.

Fixing his colored and disheveled hair, Kakashi shoved his hands into his pockets and walked the short distance to Y/N’s table. He stared at the back of her head and admired the complicated looking updo. Briefly, he remembered nights from his past when his wife would return home and undo her whatever hairstyle she was sporting. He remembered that he would gaze in awe as her long locks fell across her shoulders and how he would grab a stray look and twirl it around his finger.

Clearing his throat, Kakashi willed those images away.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Kakashi’s voice was low and breathy. “For putting you in such a tough spot. Though, just know that I believed in you. I believed that you could clear my innocence.”

Y/N was quiet, not moving an inch.

Rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, Kakashi continued. “And, uh...I’m tired of Aiko’s cooking. You’re terrible at it but Aiko is somehow much worse.” He let out a shaky chuckle. “And I oddly miss your cooking.” The blush on his ears were so red that Kakashi was certain it could be seen all the way up from the penthouse.

Still, Y/N said nothing.

Letting out a heavy breath, Kakashi’s voice sounded wearied as he said. “Can you please come back to me soon? I can’t take it anymore.”

Y/N remained silent. Peering over her shoulder, he saw she had a book in her hand and deduced that she was too embarrassed to face him so she focused on the book.

“You know, today’s our anniversary.” Kakashi smiled, his eyes turned into crescents. “And I thought it would be perfect if…”

Kakashi grew frustrated at Y/N’s lack of response so, in a fit of annoyance, he grabbed her shoulder and turned her around to face him, “Hey, are you listening to me?”

“Huh?” Y/N pulled out one of her airpods, startled by Kakashi’s appearance. “Do you want something?” She glared at him.

It was at that moment that Aiko and Sakumo ran up to their parents with poorly hidden enthusiasm. “So, what are you talking about?”

Sakumo held his arm up towards his mother who gladly carried him and sat him on her lap, landing a peck on his head.

“Nothing.” Kakashi looked away. “I was just thinking how long it took for the Queen of Lawyers to solve the case. If she was that slow then I don’t think I want her as my lawyer. Ever.”

Insulted, Y/N stood up and handed Sakumo to Kakashi then shouldered her purse, “This is the thanks I get for saving your sorry ass?” She scoffed. “I should’ve let you rot in jail.” And marched away from her family in a fit of rage.

In her car, Y/N connected her phone to the car stereo via bluetooth and played the newest audio file in her voice recording app.

“Can you come back to me soon? I can’t take it anymore.” Kakashi’s voice filled the car. “You know, today’s our anniversary. And I thought it would be perfect if…”

Y/N replayed the audio and listened to Kakashi’s cute little love confession repeatedly all the way home.

I’m not forgiving you yet, Ka-chan. She thought to herself. Words are cheap and actions are expensive. I want to see how much you’re willing to pay.

[yourkimjaejin]

Moxy with the NCT 127

The long awaited post for me!!!! Here is a closer look at Moxy’s relationships with the members of 127. Enjoy!!! ~ Author Izzy

Moxy x Taeil

Taeil was always nice Moxy. Treating her kindness and respect but never getting to close. Anytime he wanted to, it seemed like Johnny and Doyoung had everything under control

So Taeil decided to be her silent support. During her first two promotions with 127, Taeil would always keep a close eye on her. Eventually, he began to be able to tell when Moxy needed someone. And when she did he was there. 

Taeil became her emotional support oppa. Whenever she needed quiet cuddle time, she went to him. Mainly because he never told anyone. The real reason: Haechan was right. Taeil is a perfect cuddle buddy. 

As she got more comfortable with her position within 127, Moxy visited Taeil a little less but she knew that her oppa’s arms were open for her always

These two constantly trade edm songs with each other. When the rest of the members are out, they’ll blast music and have their own party in the dorms. 

He knows Moxy doesn’t like chocolate so if he makes a dessert with chocolate in it, he’ll make a special one for her with white chocolate

Moxy x Johnny

Johnny is Moxy’s dad. No ifs, ands or buts. He is her father.

With Moxy having her own room, Johnny makes a habit out of coming in and checking on her. He also drags her out to get sunlight every couple of days.

Johnny: You will not sit here and become a vampire. Let’s go!

Moxy: But I’m allergic to sun..

When Johnny was doing NCT Night Night, Moxy came to watch in studio. Usually falling asleep to Johnny and Jaehyun’s voices

Whenever he buys her clothes, he refuses to buy her any black clothing. Claiming she need to expand her color palette

Johnny has a job a Moxy’s Bodyguard #1. He sits or stands one place down from her to keep an eye on her. In airports, she remains in his eyesight's at all times. 

Moxy x Taeyong

For some time, Taeyong and Moxy didn’t have a relationship. She didn’t get to know him. He didn’t get to know her. In an effort to take care of the other (at the time) nine members, Moxy just flew under the radar.

After an interview gone wrong, Taeyong made the decision to pay more attention to the younger girl

Taeyong was impressed by her talent, all aspects of it. So he began to help with her rapping and dancing. 

Taeyong was the first member to notice her non-eating habits. To rectify that, he started keeping small snacks he knew she liked with him

Taeyong loves to run his fingers thru her hair. During vlives, he’ll pull her in front of him and start twisting and tangling her hair

These two are always bouncing ideas off of each other. Moxy’s very in touch with her feelings she knows exactly what she needs to do to express those feelings in a song and that really helps Taeyong when he gets stuck with lyrics. 

Moxy x Yuta 

Yuta is the second member of the silent supporters. Yuta keeps Moxy safe using his body. If the group is walking thru a crown, Yuta keeps Moxy in his sights at all times. If they’re on a sidewalk, Yuta makes sure she walks on the inside even if she’s not walking with him

These two love to watch anime together. As of right now, they are in the midst of a Fairy Tail rewatch. Whenever they have time, they catch a couple episodes

He is the only person Moxy could do no wrong with. The only hyung who will let Moxy do what she wants. If Moxy sneaks out to get some fries, Yuta causes the distraction

Yuta always encourages Moxy to dress in more girly clothing. He knows how much she enjoys it but never feels confident enough to wear it. So he’s tries to help her overcome that

Moxy x Doyoung

(I love this gif!!)

If Johnny is the dad, Doyoung is the mom. 

He looks after her all the time. Doyoung was always scolding both her and the other members for not really getting to know each other. 

Doyoung helped her a lot to break out of her shell. He even accompanied her to practice her gymnastics in Korea for the first time

Doyoung found out about Moxy’s terrible eating habits in the worst way possible. From then on, he made it his personal mission to make sure she eats

During Doyoung and Moxy’s early time with NCT, Moxy would have a hard time sleeping so Doyoung left his door open to her. Most of the time, She ended up in his room before morning

Doyoung does not like for Moxy to show a lot of skin around other male idols outside of NCT. There are plenty of clips where Doyoung will cover Moxy’s legs and shoulders with the closest blanket or jacket

If Doyoung is having trouble with dance moves, he’ll pull her aside for help 

Moxy x Jaehyun

Jaehyun is the third silent supporter Moxy has. Fans can catch him fixing her clothes, moving her hair into the correct place and softly catching her attention to check on her. 

Moxy has a tendency to space out. During those moments, Jaehyun usually grabs her hand and rubs his thumb on the top of her hand in small circle until she snaps out of it

Jaehyun always guides her off stage. He’s a tensy bit scared of her walking in heels and possibly slipping and falling

Moxy likes singing with Jaehyun. Around the dorm, the two will start singing and (without talking) harmonizing

Moxy x Jungwoo

Jungwoo and Moxy were close from the get-go. Moxy helped Jungwoo find his place within 127 and he’s always thankful to her. The other members of 127 are just a bit jealous of how close the two became in such a short time

Moxy and Jungwoo flirt.....alot! There is literally no boundaries between them. When Moxy lived in the 127 dorm she would steal his clothes all the time. 

When on stage, they might as well be attached at the hip. Fans will see them gravitating towards each other like magnets. At fansigns, Jungwoo will tell the fans to checkup on his girl two spaces down

Jungwoo is the only person who will ever see Moxy freak over other kpop groups. She would rather appear indifferent to everyone else. Jungwoo was only other member to figure out Moxy had a crush on Mark from Got7

Moxy x Mark

M squared didn’t have any sort of relationship until recently. For most of their shared career, they were just members in the same band. 

Early on, K-fans made many comparisons between the two 99 liners. Both were from countries outside of Korea. Both were exceptional at rap, dance and singing. In most title tracks, you can bet Mark and Moxy are gonna have a rap verse where they go line for line

Many fans called Moxy a mixture of Taeyong and Mark. Those comments got to him. And because Mark didn’t talk to her, she didn’t talk to him. This all came to a head when SuperM was just starting. 

Mark should have been happy. Happy to have his raps all to himself. But he found himself missing Moxy’s energy. Her hype affected him so much stage. It made go even harder with every word. 

When Mark finally got back for Superhuman promotions, Mark finally started to make a effort to befriend Moxy. While the two are getting closer, Mark is still at the bottom of her relationships within 127

Moxy x Haechan

Different from Mark, Haechan and Moxy grew close fast. At first, he saw her like Haechan see’s Taeil. The quiet member who just the right person to break them out of their shell. And that he did

Haechan would always crash into her room like a hurricane, kick everyone out and steal Moxy for the rest of the day

They love learning old and new kpop dances together. These two are a walking random play dance challenge.

During the summer fight, Donghyuck would stow away in Moxy’s room. The hyungs wouldn’t hear any noise coming so they would check on them almost every thirty minutes just to make sure the two were ok.

Moxy is one of the only members who is privy to Donghyuck in a down mood. “You never have to front with me. You got me?”

Moxy and NCT Dream

Moxy is their noona and don’t you forget it. 

Moxy adores Renjun’s energy. His aura never fails to make her feel safe and calm. Moxy and Renjun have little dates where they just sit in his room and watch YouTube theory videos

Jeno likes to workout with Moxy but she will only join if he’s going to a gym. Moxy refuses to ride bikes across half of Korea

Just like Johnny does with Moxy, she drags Jaemin out of his room for some outside time whenever its been awhile since they’ve seen the sun

Every third Thursday of the month, mochenji get together at chenle’s house and have a sleepover. Private time between the maknae’s and their favorite noona

Moxy and WayV

Hendery, Xiaojun and Yangyang love to tease Moxy about her bias on Ten. They flood her text message with pictures of him. They make little comments that make her blush in front of him.

Ten thinks its Moxy’s crush is adorable. He found out a while ago (I mean Moxy isn’t subtle.....). The only person Ten told was Kun. Ten loves to buy things for her just to see her eyes light up

You can’t put Moxy in the same room as Lucas cause she will literally pass out from laughing too much

Back in their trainee days, Kun would accompany Moxy to the train station to get home. One time, it was really late and Kun walked her all the way home. Kun became her grandmother favorite NCT member that day. 

Winwin and Moxy found common ground in the tricking Winwin did (i.e. the front flip in fire truck) Winwin loved going to her gymnastics practice and practicing flips with her. 

Moxy and NCT U

Shotaro is her shy Japanese child and if anything hurts him, Moxy would burn Korea to the ground. 

Other SM trainees tried to scare him by warning him about Moxy’s “Bad Attitude”. Telling him that he would never get her help or advice. Shotaro not knowing any better steered clear. 

One day, Moxy found him struggling with his Korean lessons and She immediately sat down with and helps him. Breaking everything down slowly. She even called Yuta to help because she only knew a tiny bit of Japanese. Ever since, Moxy has protected Shotaro. 

Sungchan loves to flirt with his Noona but all he gets in return is a swat on the arm. Truly, Sungchan loves being around Moxy. She took the time to introduce him to the other members and let him cling to her while he was getting used to being thrown into such a well known group

Moxy loves to take care of Sungchan and Shotaro. She’ll buy them food and The members of 12 were shocked to see how easy it was for the new members to drag Moxy out of the house

[fe-semi-decent-scenarios]

Congrats on 100 followers!!! If it's no bother could I request head cannons for how protective the BL group is over their s/o? Thanks :))

[I’m assuming that these are just general jealousy level / worry-wart head-cannons? We’re not tapping into yandere on this blog lol. I’ll keep it simple, how ya like it :3] 

Dimitri: 

11/10

Boy worries 

People out there want him dead = people out there want you dead too

Some might even try to take advantage of you due to his high status 

Makes him hella clingy sometimes. Nightmares when you’re in ‘unfavorable’ circumstances aren’t rare

Even in his emo phase he’s still like this- just even more because the world is basically his enemy 

Don’t let feral dima be around when soldiers talk smack to you. He will put them in their place without mercy 

Doesn’t help that you’re basically the closest to family he’s got aside from Dedue

Dude you’re his future and he knows it. There is no one else who would stick with him through everything like you do 

Even if there was, he wouldn’t want them. No one can ever replace you

He’s not so much concerned with someone else putting the moves on you 

Okay, wait--hold that thought 

He trusts you but goddess forbid someone makes you uncomfortable. He will use his authoritative presence to make them feel like a pebble next to a boulder 

Totally glares at anyone with wandering eyes when you’re not looking. He’ll put one arm around your waist and nudge you away from them without hesitation 

  Dedue: 

3/10

He can’t stop people from making advances- he knows that 

He also can’t take action on your behalf

Sure, he doesn’t like it when people make advances towards you. The whole point of being in a relationship is so people know that you are each other’s partner 

Most of the time he just lets you deal with it. You can take care of yourself 

His mood goes foul if people dare to do it in front of him. If people thought he looked intimidating before then d a m n 

He’ll casually place a hand on your shoulder (which if you know him well is actually the most unusual thing) and ask if you need anything else before dismissing himself 

Just a little expression of clarity that you’re with him, you know, chase the bugger off  

Surprisingly not a worry-wart in any aspect aside from health 

It’s easy for someone to neglect their health; mental and physical

Don’t be surprised if he encourages you to get check-ups ritually 

If something’s an issue he expects you to come to him when you’re ready

Not pushy in the slightest 

Felix: 

8/10

Asserts d o m i n a n c e towards all threats 

His attitude is one of the top three causes for any arguments. You know the snarky remarks are part of the Felix package, but would it kill him to have some restraint occasionally? 

Despite his intelligence Felix tends to make quick assumptions. The guy has a bit of a superiority complex and doesn’t like when other people get cozy with his s/o 

Pity the fool who challenges the Fraldarious 

He views it as them not taking him seriously. 

Also slightly afraid you’ll ditch his difficult ass

He can and will tell them off. Doesn’t matter the time or scene- if he feels someone’s being too buddy-buddy then he’ll make them to get lost 

Hence the arguments. It can get bothersome when he acts out towards someone you’re friends with or if he causes a scene 

He knows that it’s out of line and that you can make your own choices, but he can’t help it 

Will apologize begrudgingly, but only to you. The other person can just live with it 

You might be able to milk it and get an apology hug lol 

In other aspects of life he’s the same way. If a politician tries to screw you over he’s right there watching from the sidelines, if you’re in battle then he’s constantly glancing at where you’re stationed, etc. 

Ashe: 

7/10

He’s your silent protector lol

Not because he’s ‘quiet’ but instead out of fear. He doesn't want to annoy you 

Ashe has a lot of insecurities. No matter how many times you tell him otherwise he’ll always think you’re out of his league 

If anyone flirts or makes suggestive comments towards you he’ll get upset 

Like, really upset 

extremely upset 

 He’ll watch from the sidelines as you diffuse the situation, lacing one hand with your own with a smile. Just you’re normal not-confrontational-at-all-Ashe. At least that’s what you see 

On the inside it’s a raging storm of emotions going on. He’s so afraid that one day you’ll wake up and realize that he’s not good enough. That he’ll have to watch you walk away and return to an empty home again 

Que nervous sweating 

He becomes a doting mother if you’re ever ill or in danger. For weeks on end he’ll become you’re second shadow 

If someone ever dares to hurt you while he’s nearby they’re getting an arrow in the back. No mercy. The fury borderline snaps the arrow between his fingers 

Hates leaving you behind or being away. Not knowing if you’re safe, happy, healthy, etc. eats him up inside 

Literally fragile glass. He can’t even tinker with the thought of you dying or he gets a stress-induced headache 

Sylvain: 

5/10

He’s so neutral towards everything that it’s honestly scary 

The fellow Lions would even say ‘creepy’ for some occasions. It’s so far off from how he behaved towards his past partners and other friends 

With his past and reputation people would think he’d at least get defensive when other people flirt with you 

He knows what players are looking for since he was one. He’s been in their shoes

Yet??? He’s indifferent towards everything???

It takes a lot to get Sylvain worked up. His laid back way of approaching conflict tends to rub off on those around him and therefore helps in avoiding arguments 

It would take either you expressing your discomfort or for the other party to attempt physical contact to make him hostile 

Even then though he’ll simply push them back before leading you away. No harm no foul,  just in and out before things escalate 

When it comes to big decisions or outbreaks he also follows a neutral approach. He waits for you to express your own wants before giving his opinions 

You want to fight in the next battle? Cool, you’re registered. What battalion are you with? Well, looks like your going a different route than him. Are you sure that’s the one you want to follow? Yeah? Nothing he can do then aside from wish you luck. 

Doesn’t mean he won’t be concerned at all though. I mean, it’s natural to be. 

His mindset is that if he doesn’t worry then you won’t either. Anxiety is contagious and you don’t need extra stress in bad situations. 

Annette: 

7/10

She doesn’t w a n t to be like this, but sometimes it’s hard to hold back jealousy 

Annette is one of those people that likes attention from the person she cares about. It makes her happy, so being ignored for someone else would really hurt 

She’s nothing special in this regard. Like any person in a relationship she’ll have her moments, but for the most part everything is fine and dandy 

The whole reason she’s above average is because of other reasons

She’ll nag you about safety precautions with logic from her studies. Being a goodie-two-shoes from a young age has her nerves spiking whenever you take needless risks 

If she wasn’t reading up on faith magic before then she is now 

The fear of being left behind is also something to chalk up on this list. If you’re gone longer than expected she’ll become antsy 

The others can always tell when she’s worried. Annette isn’t very good at hiding that kind of aura from taking over 

All in all, she’s not a very protective person. A better term would probably be “anxious”

Mercedes: 

10/10

While she isn’t the staple of ‘overprotective,’ she is still exceedingly mindful of possible disasters  

Are you really surprised? Mercedes cares about everyone no matter who they are.  

She legit prays for the souls of her enemies. The woman is a saint in human skin

This also negates any jealous bone in her body. If she ever does feel uneasy it’s just a quick pang in the chest and then it’s gone 

She doesn’t like to dwell on ‘what ifs’ because then she can’t live in the present- where people need her  

She can seriously be a bit much other times though. If you even sneeze near her she’ll ask to take your temperature 

Doesn’t matter where, who, when, etc. Mercedes takes care of everyone 

Don’t ever deny her either. She can be pushy if the situation calls for it and sometimes it’s just easier to let her do what she wants 

She’ll pray to the goddess for your safety before any battle, and send you off with extra healing potions for the times she won’t be near 

During these times she’s extra vulnerable and is more open to showing her own personal strife to others. She tries to keep optimistic but nobody’s perfect. If it becomes too much she may seek to talk with a close friend (aka Annette) 

However, her thoughts remain unclouded when others are in need. She suppresses her personal feelings until those in front of her are taken care of 

Ingrid: 

0/10

She isn’t worried 

You know better than to wrong Ingrid 

Enemies know better than to wrong you 

Either happens and someone’s gonna die 

[slytherinnbitch]

Prompt #10

Prompt #10- Secret Relationship

Pairing- Pansmione

Background- Hogwarts Sixth Year. They’ve been dating for the past four months now. Drarry are also dating (not relevant but there is no way, Harry and Ginny are dating so deal with it. This may not follow much cannon because I read the books eons ago and mostly depend on ff nowadays.

Thank you for submission <3

..............................................................................

“Parkinson, what are you doing?” Hermione asks as soon as she is cornered in the middle of an empty corridor by Pansy Parkinson.

“Oh you know? Just kissing my beautiful girlfriend.” she says haughtily as she presses her own lips to Hermione’s in a whisper of a kiss.

“Girlfriend? And yours? Never!” she laughs and presses her lips more fiercely to hers, “But seriously, what are you doing? We talked about this babe.”

She attacks her jaw and throat next, leaving small kisses all over making Hermione almost forget what she was saying. “I just....I was just--ugh why is this so hard!” Pansy closes her eyes before rushing out the words, “I was bloody jealous of our best friends, alright?”

“Jealous? Darling, I’m sorry but I don’t think I get you.” She pulls away and looks down at her girlfriend.

“It’s just they are out and we are not and it’s my fucking fault because I'm such a coward that I can't even--" She is cut-off by Hermione who firmly places her hand over her mouth to stop her from speaking and it absurdly works.

"Now, love. You listen to me okay? And listen properly. It is not your fault anyhow that we aren't out. It's my decision as much as it is your decision so just don't. And so what Harry is out about his relationship and we are not? How does it effect us if the public whom we don't even care about knows or not? We know and that's enough. Don't you agree?" She says it such a way that Pansy is left absolutely stunned, so she just stares at her lovely, caring and such understanding girlfriend in complete silence; searching her face for any kind of emotion that would betray her words but she finds none. Hermione Granger is as genuine as the words she just said.

It makes Pansy want to kiss her silly until she forgets everything but her, unfortunately for them she hears footsteps coming from the end of the hall and they hastily scurry away to one of the secret passages Hermione told Pansy about. She had gotten to know about it from Harry's map and she was very grateful for the map nowadays if she was being completely honest.

"That was close." Pansy says but she is grinning so Hermione can't help but join her.

"It was your fault!" She says and is immediately silenced by a deliberate kiss.

"Was not." Pansy says, knowing full well that it was.

"Distraction by kisses is cheating!" Hermione says.

"You love it though."

"That I do" She says and they forget about everything around them for the next hour or so, except each other.

.............................

"I want to come out." Pansy says, three days after their corridor incident. They are sitting in the library studying together. It's perfectly fine because now that their friends are dating, they are being 'civil' to one another and studying in the library is just that. Also they aren't particularly alone, it's just that Draco had disappeared almost an hour ago with Harry following him just a second afterwards.

"Are you....are you sure, babe? You know you don't need to." Hermione asks tentatively, she wants to come out, wants to show their relationship to the world and how much she loves, yes loves Pansy Parkinson but to her Pansy's comfort comes way before that so she supports her without even a second thought. They'll get there one day, she knows that so she doesn't give much thought to it if she can help it.

"Completely. I've given it quite a lot of thought and I think I'm ready to do it. Atleast to our friends, I'm not sure about the whole school though."

"That's completely fine. Why don't we do this, we tell our friends and don't actively show or hide our relationship from the rest of the school?" Hermione asks, hoping that she doesn't sound much eager.

"That's a amazing idea, Mione! This is why I love you so much." Hermione blushes at that but focuses back on her homework. She knows they haven't discussed a how or when but that can wait until later. She is just happy that they are going to do it soon!

Harry and Draco arrive a few minutes later, with flushed cheeks and red lips, "So did you guys have a nice time studying alone?" Pansy asks as they sit down.

"Shut up, Parks" Harry says, he has taken up making a nickname out of Pansy's last name because calling her first was too weird to him. To be honest, Hermione likes it suits a lot.

"Did you not have a great time studying, Pans?" Draco counters back and Hermione doesn't even date look at him. She is sure she will reveal much more than she wants.

Pansy just looks shell shocked at Draco before responding, "It's not like I have a boyfriend to do studying with, do I?"

"Why Pans, you've Hermione right here. Topper of our class and probable future Ministress of Magic with you. You won't need anyone else would you?" Hermione is sure that Draco knows. How? She doesn't know but he does. It is quite clear or maybe he just suspects.

She looks up at Harry who is looking back and forth between Draco and Pansy, trying to decipher in between the lines, his gaze moves to Hermione, questioning her silently. She just shrugs and Harry buys it and shrugs himself before grudgingly getting back to his own homework.

............

"I like to say something." Pansy says after all their friends have come. They are sitting in the Room of Requirement, called there upon Pansy and Hermione's request.

Hermione looks around the room, Blaise looks bored , Draco appears weirdly smug as if he knows what's coming, after the library thing she suspects he does. Harry is looking intently at Pansy while Ron looks uncomfortable being here and being addressed by Pansy like this. Nott has a neutral expression as he stares at Pansy, Neville keeps fidgeting in his seat while Luna looks calm and Ginny is basically grinning like a cat at Hermione and Pansy at turns. Quite a group they have.

"Please continue." Draco tells her and smirks slightly at her.

"Yeah so I'm gay." She states bluntly.

"No you're not." It's Luna who speaks up and every one collectively looks at her. What is she saying?

"You're a lesbian, not gay." She explains and she breathes out in relief. She doesn't know what she would have done if Luna had just refused to recognise her as ..... herself?

"Yeah okay, that." Pansy agrees.

"Yeah we already know that, Pans. What is the news though?" Nott asks.

"What do you mean that you already know?"

"Everyone does, but this just can't be you coming out?" Blaise says matter-of-factly.

"Oh it's not. Just wait." Draco quips in, clearly enjoying this way too much.

The Gryffindors are weirdly silent through all of it, as she supposes she would have been as well if any other Slytherin would have just called them all to just come out to them, might even be a bit awkward.

Pansy just looks at her, silently asking her to take the lead from there. Which she does, "So....the thing is...."

She has no idea where her Gryffindor courage has suddenly vanished but she can't speak, not infront of all her friends. The what ifs suddenly come to her mind and she tries her best to keep them at bay. She looks at all them, looking expectantly at her. She has addressed so many people before but somehow this just feels so different. She glances at Pansy who gives her a sma bit encouraging smile.

She takes a deep breath and continues, going the straightforward way just like Pansy, "We are dating."

There is long deafening silence as everyone soakes in the news. She looks at their faces and finds identical yet different expressions. They all looked either shocked or surprised all on different levels, while Draco and surprisingly, Luna just smile at them. Although Draco's is a lot more smug.

"We are so happy for you guys," Luna breaks the silence as she gets up to hug them both, "Thank you for trusting us enough and being brave enough to come out."

After that, it's all smiles and jokes and teasing, except Harry who looks strange.

She mentally notes to ask him later, but for now she just enjoys sitting next to Pansy and being able to kiss her without any hindrance.

........

"Haz...." Harry looks up from his broom which he is polishing for the last half an hour.

"Yes, Mione?"

"Are you alright, you know with me and Pansy?"

"Yes of course. I'm really happy that you found someone who makes you happy, she makes you happy, right?"

"Immensely."

"Why do you ask then?"

"You looked strange when I told all of you this morning."

"Oh that! It's nothing to do with you, Mione. Draco has been leaving me clues about you both which I wasn't able to get and they all just suddenly clicked in place and I realized how oblivious of me to not notice. The all the time studying in the library, coming to class late and even skipping class-"

"That was one time!" She injects.

"One time of Hermione Topper Granger not attending class is enough for me."

She smiles fondly at him, relieved that he is okay about it. He is one of her best friends after all and his opinions matters greatly to her.

"So we good?"

"Absolutely!" He answers and hugs her tightly, "No matter what, you'll obviously be my best friend. Nothing would be changing that, Mione."

His words are whispered into her hair, but she knows Harry means them and she feels the same so she just hugs him back and thanks Merlin for giving her someone as Harry as her best friend.

[krsnbgirl]

Fly High! || Kageyama x Fem!Reader || Part 3

Summary: The volleyball club is very keen on making you join and you find yourself slowly giving in, despite having doubts about yourself. You also find yourself naturally gravitating towards Kageyama without realizing it after one of their practices. Kageyama also finds himself questioning the effects you have on him.

Pairing: Kageyama Tobio x Fem!Reader

Genre: Rom-Com, Slice of Life, Sports

Word Count: ~2.9k

Warnings: Slight swearing, smoking (for Ukai), Signs of Anxiety from Reader, Timeline heavily based on the anime

Author’s Note: And here is part three of the series! I hope you guys enjoy it! Thank you to anyone that has interacted with the first part :) Taglist is still open if any of you would like to be a part of it! Also crossed posted on AO3! xoxo, Ren  ❤

Taglist: @misnmatchedsox​ @monviemoo

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Masterlist

The final bell of the day rang and you groaned as the paper bag sitting next to your desk was calling out your name. It was the middle of the week which meant that you had the apartment all to yourself until your mom returned late from work. You had planned to go to Ukai’s shop to pig out on snacks to take home and eat while playing video games. But it looked like your plans changed as you looked over towards the burgundy uniform that stared back at you. With a sigh, you pushed herself up from your desk and went to start on cleaning up the classroom. You let your mind wander to earlier that day when you were walking around the school during the last break of the day and had bumped into the third years who were conveniently looking for you.

“(Y/N)-chan!” Asahi greeted as the three of them walked up to you. You stepped back and skeptically looked at them.

“Now, now (Y/N)-chan, you don’t need to be looking at us like that.” Sugawara laughed and you scoffed.

“Says the one that also tried to tie me down with the idea of being manager instead of helping me.” You pouted.

Sugawara held up his hands in defense and said, “We all know you can do it (Y/N)-chan.”

“Which is why we’re doing this!” Daichi exclaimed before he ran towards you and threw you over his shoulders.

“Suga you traitor! I can’t believe you were acting as decoy for this! Daichi, put me down!” You whined as you hit his back and kicked your legs in your attempt to try to escape.

In response to your antics, Daichi tightened the grip he had around your waist and fastened his pace.

“Nah, I don’t want to. Besides, we need to complete our mission.” he chuckled.

“What mission?! You guys are crazy, don’t think you can get away with this!” You huffed and continued to pound on Daichi’s back.  

Asahi and Sugawara only laughed at your reaction and Sugawara threw his blazer over your waist. The three third years ignored your pleas and the weird stares coming from students that walked past them.

“There, there (Y/N)-chan. If you only agreed to being manager in the first place you wouldn’t be in this position.” Asahi playfully said.

“We all saw that serve and if anything, this could be helpful for you.” Daichi continued.

“Shimizu-san was the one that asked us to help her find you because she needed to give you something. But we also know you well enough that you’d try to escape if we told you why we needed to talk to you. Or y’know…” Sugawara shrugged before finishing his thought, “corner you and convince you to come with us.”  

You sighed and crossed your arms, glaring at the floor. “Fine, you have a point. But can you please just let me walk?! Do you think I can actually outrun the three of you giants?!”

The boys laughed as Daichi finally set you down in the hallway for third year classes. “True, but we thought this would be more fun.”

Daichi ruffled your hair and you couldn’t help but groan, facepalming and accepting the fact that they’ll never stop messing up your hair. “You guys always just have to go for the hair, huh?”

Pressing your hands together, you looked up and playfully prayed out loud. “Oh kami-sama, what did I do in my previous life to deserve this type of treatment from three giants?”  

“You’re just so fun to tease sometimes, (Y/N)-chan.” Sugawara chuckled as Asahi waved down Shimizu.

She walked up to your group with the brown bag in hand and passed it to you.

“Inside is the practice uniform for us. I know you’re still thinking about it and hopefully these boys have been doing their best to convince you. But we all saw that you were finally opening up on giving volleyball a second chance once you picked up the ball.”

“Once it’s in your body and you get a feel of that court, it’s never going to leave you (Y/N)-chan. Trust me when I say, I know how you feel about being adamant on leaving the court after something happened. It’s all about keeping your perspective open.” Asahi said.

“Sure you had something knock you down, but always remember, it’s better to come back stronger than let yourself drown in what ifs.” Sugawara reminded her.

“Of course, everyone has their own time when it comes to healing. But I know I can see that your time is nearing, (Y/N)-chan. And when that time comes, we’ll be there to support you. The first step is to slowly get back into it, even if it means just doing it on the sidelines.” Daichi said as he gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze.

“And if anything, Nishinoya-kun is the one person that’s been looking forward to your return onto the court.” Shimizu said.

Taking the bag into your hands, you gave them a small but thankful smile. You wouldn’t admit it to them, but you had missed volleyball. After trying so hard to walk away from the sport, all the emotions you felt after stepping into the gym came at you like a wildfire. After your incident, you distanced yourself from it because of how much your injury affected you. Now one year later, what ifs had begun to enter your mind, especially once Nishinoya began to talk about how Karasuno was picking up their game once more. You couldn’t help but feel jealous of him. He was still able to do the one thing he loved while you were stuck at square one. But now knowing that he’s been wanting you to get back into it, talking about the boys and their games was just a way for him to lure you back into your love for the sport.

The third years could see the look in your eyes change after Shimizu mentioned Nishinoya and smiled at each other. You were like their little sister and all they wanted was the best for you and they knew that it was volleyball. You were one of the most passionate players they’ve seen and they would do anything to see you at your happiest.They weren’t sure if you would ever be able to return back to the court, but being involved as a manager could  be the starting point for you. They just knew that volleyball was destined to always be a part of your life no matter what.

“I hate you guys…” you murmured as you looked away, hugging the bag to your chest.

“We love you too, (Y/N)-chan.” Sugawara smiled and Asahi bent down to rest his arm on your head.

“So does that mean you’ll be our manager then?”

You clicked your tongue and elbowed Asahi before walking away. “I’ll think about it, Goatee Guy.”

“Goatee Guy?!”

You laughed as you finished up your clearing duties, a warm feeling spreading through your chest as you realized how much the third years looked after you. After putting the broom away, you picked up the bag and stared at the uniform that sat inside. With a million thoughts running through your mind, you bit your lip in contemplation as your eyes moved towards the clock in the classroom. Their practice was just about to start and so with another look at the bag, you gathered your things to make your way over to the gym. ‘Screw it, let’s see how this goes’ You thought to yourself.

---

‘Am I really going to do this?’ You thought to yourself as you slowly walked towards the gym after changing into the uniform.

Peeping through the door, you saw that the boys were already inside of the gym warming up. You were about to sneak in, until Hinata ran up to you with his quiz in his hands.

“(L/N)-san! Some parts you taught me were on there, and I got a third of them right!” he happily exclaimed.

Quickly forgetting about what you were  worrying about, you began to jump with Hinata in joy because he managed to pass the quiz with your help. The boys were surprised to see you in the uniform, but nonetheless happy that you were seriously considering becoming one of their managers. Shimizu approached you while Daichi called for their drills to begin and decided to give you the rundown.

“I’m sure you already know by now, but you don’t have to be nervous. Just make sure to be careful of stray shots.”

You gave Shimizu a questioning gaze, as if daring to see just how bad the stray shots can be, and she laughed. “You’ll just have to see for yourself, (Y/N)-chan..”

“Ugh Kiyoko-san that’s no fair…” You playfully whined before following her around to help on whatever needed to be done.

Soon enough, Coach Ukai and Shimizu were throwing balls at the boys during their practice match. As you watched while doing the small tasks that were given to you, you slowly began to understand what Nishinoya was always telling you about the boys. There was the hunger for revenge that drove them to train harder and you could see it in all of their eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh whenever you saw Nishinoya and Tanaka get riled up whenever something great happened. It reminded you of the times when they would just as riled up for you during your matches after Nishinoya began high school.

For a second you took your eyes off of them to check the time and out of the corner of your eye, you saw a stray ball coming your way. Before you could think, your body reacted on its own by squaring off your body and bending down. ‘Wait it’s too high.’ You crossed your arms just in time for the ball to rebound off of your forearms. The boys apologized but were also surprised at your fast reflexes.You casually waved it away and didn’t notice that a certain someone had his eyes on you. Kageyama saw it all happen since he was part of the trio that managed to block Asahi’s spike that headed towards your direction. He couldn’t hide his curiosity and surprise to see someone so aware of their surroundings. It made him wonder what it was like to play against you on the court. Kageyama kept staring at you and it wasn’t until Tsukishima nudged him in the stomach for his attention to return back to the court.

“Oi, Kageyama, we all know that (Y/N) iis cute but who knew that she’d catch the King’s attention. Don’t let her become your weakness if you guys do become a thing. We can’t let your reputation on the court get ruined.” Tsukishima teased.

“Shut up!” Kageyama hissed as his teammates snickered since it was hard to find things to tease Kageyama with.

After making sure that you were fine, Shimizu began to tell you how Karasuno’s offense is among the best in the prefecture. You hummed in response as the conversation continued while dodging or hitting away any stray shots. You snickered as you looked behind Shimizu to see Nishinoya and Tanaka fanboying over the fact that your senpai was talking more than usual. Your best friend met your gaze and gave you an encouraging nod as if to say ‘You’re doing the right thing. As well as “I told you so.”’’ Playfully rolling your eyes at him, you nodded at him to focus back on practicing just as Coach Ukai yelled at them to stop goofing off. You looked back at Shimizu as she observed the team and told you that Karasuno is going to make it to nationals once more.

You were lost in thought for most of the time while Shimizu took on most of the work. You knew that everyone wanted what’s best for you but you didn’t know if being a manager was going to work out for you. Would you be able to keep up? Were you even worthy enough to be their manager? You’ve been out of the game for a year, maybe even longer. Why are they having so much faith in you? With thoughts like these swirling your mind, practice was over before you knew it and Takeda-sensei was giving their announcements.

“...Ouginishi High School requested a match tomorrow and I accepted. They saw us at the Inter High prelims and insisted.” Takeda-sensei said.

The boys cheered and their energy rose up once more as they excitedly talked about their match. You watched them interact with each other and couldn’t help but feel jealous. Your longing for the sport continued to grow the more you interacted with the boys and you didn’t know how to feel. After your injury, you vowed to never return to the sport and yet there you were: back inside a gym filled with other people who loved volleyball just as much as you did. A swirl of emotions began to get the best of you and you quietly excused yourself to take a breather outside while the team cleaned up the gym for the night.

Your mind was torn as you quickly changed back into your school uniform and made your way back to the gym. Shimizu had asked if you wanted to walk home together on her way out, but you quickly declined because you needed to sort out your own thoughts. As you began to make your way towards the gate, you paused in your steps as you heard Coach Ukai and Takeda-sensei talk to each other. Your eyes widened as you listened in on their conversation. You felt bad when Takeda shared with Coach Ukai that he  couldn’t get the bus they needed for the team to go to Tokyo. Pursing your lips, your mind flashed to the boys’ excited expressions for their away games. It was important to have a bus and maybe, just maybe you could figure out a way to help them just this once.

“(L/N)-san, are you gonna be our manager?” Hinata asked as he ran up to you.

You jumped and turned around to find him staring at you excitedly. Taking a step back, you tried to figure out what to say to the poor guy since you still didn't have a solid answer.

“You’re going to, right?”

“Oi, Hinata, what are you doing to our (Y/N)-chan?” Tanaka and Nishinoya asked as they approached you.

“You better not pressure her into saying yes. But I’m pretty sure my (Y/N)-chan will say yes anyways.” Nishinoya said as he stared Hinata down.

“If she says no then we have to deal with it, alright kid? But I mean, both of us still hope that you’ll join. We’re just giving you space. Plus when you’re around, Kiyoko-san talks a lot.” Tanaka added.

You  laughed as Daichi knocked both of their heads and Sugawara apologized for their behavior. You waved their behavior away and retorted, “It’s fine, I have to deal with their stupidity on the weekends anyways.”

“Hey!” Tanaka and Nishinoya exclaimed and tried to go after you. Trying to find an escape route, you noticed Asahi and Kageyama approaching and smiled widely. Quickly running behind Kageyama, you held onto the back of his jacket. Peeping behind his tall stature, you stuck your tongue out at them as Asahi stepped in to catch the two idiots. Kageyama could only stand still as he felt your presence while everything went down. The feeling of your hands scrunching up his practice shirt and the weight of your body leaning against his while you looked out from behind caused him to freeze up. He was surprised that you ran up to him and used him as a cover instead of Asahi, who was someone that you were much closer with. What confused him was that it made him happy knowing that you chose him but he simply didn’t know how to react to all of this.

“Let’s all just get along now children.” Asahi sighed as he dragged Tanaka and Nishinoya away from you and Kageyama.

Everyone’s attention was then diverted to Hinata who took out his phone to show the text he had gotten from, Kenma, his friend from Nekoma. You sighed in relief before realizing you were still hanging onto Kageyama. You felt how stiff he was and sheepishly let go before standing in front of him. Rubbing your neck, you awkwardly smiled and looked up at him.

“Sorry Kageyama-kun, I didn’t realize I was still hanging on to you.”

“O-Oh...it’s nothing really. Those two can be a handful sometimes.” he murmured as he felt his cheeks warm.

You softly laughed and smiled back at him. “Right? Well thanks for letting me use you as my shield, Kageyama-kun. Let’s catch up to them.”

Kageyama froze once more when he saw the bright smile you gave him. He snapped back to reality when you began to walk towards the rest of the boys. Clutching his chest in hopes to relieve the pounding behind his ribcage, Kageyama began to slowly understand what was happening to him. He glanced at you once more, who was talking to Tsukishima about your upcoming assignments, as he slowly made his way towards the rest of the team. Kageyama didn’t know how to react to the effect that you were slowly having on him and it was going to be the death of him if it continued to grow.

‘Kami-sama, please help me. I don’t know what to do if this continues to happen whenever I’m around her.’