#hey editor come over here real quick I have THOUGHTS

[thatfrenchacademic]

The editor: There are a lot of obvious typos in the text. We ask that when you finalise the text you spend some time carefully proofing the manuscript. Also the editor: Congratulations on have the manuscript be accepted pending minor changes.

[lunardragon00]

Supernatural (Hongjoong x Reader)

Eternal Sunshine Masterlist

Fashion Designer!Hongjoong x Journalist!reader

This love's possessing me, but I don't mind at all It's like supernatural It's taking over me, don't wanna fight the fall

The alarm blared, disrupting the quiet of y/n's apartment. Groaning, she fumbled for the snooze button, her hand finally finding its mark. With a sigh, she rolled out of bed, her mind already buzzing with the day ahead.

After a quick shower and a hurried breakfast, y/n stepped out into the bustling streets of the city. The cool morning air greeted her, mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting from nearby cafes. With a glance at her watch, she quickened her pace, knowing she couldn't afford to be late for work.

The familiar routine of her morning commute unfolded: the rhythmic clatter of the subway train, the chatter of commuters, the fleeting glimpses of city landmarks flashing by the windows. Lost in her thoughts, y/n barely noticed the passing scenery as she mentally prepared for the day ahead.

Finally reaching her office, y/n greeted her colleagues with a tired smile before settling into her desk. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow over the rows of cubicles. With a sigh, she powered up her computer, steeling herself for another day of deadlines and assignments.

As the morning wore on, y/n found herself in need of a caffeine fix. Grabbing her coat, she made her way to the nearest coffee shop, the scent of freshly ground beans drawing her in like a siren's call. With a grateful smile, she ordered her usual—a strong black coffee—and settled into a corner booth, savoring the first sip as it warmed her from the inside out.

With her coffee in hand, y/n returned to the office, ready to tackle the day's tasks. As she walked past the glass windows, a figure steps out of their office. 

"Hey, Y/N, can you come in here real quick." y/n nodded, setting her coffee cup down on her desk before making her way to the office where the figure stood waiting. She recognized him as her editor, Mr. Johnson, a no-nonsense man with a keen eye for news. Entering the office, y/n greeted him with a polite smile. "You wanted to see me, Mr. Johnson?"

Mr. Johnson gestured for her to take a seat opposite his desk. "Yes, Miss L/N, I have an assignment for you." He paused, eyeing her over the rim of his glasses. "It's a big one."

Curiosity flickered in Y/N's eyes as she leaned forward, intrigued. "What's the assignment?"

Mr. Johnson leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together. "We've been granted exclusive access to cover the rise of a promising young fashion designer. Kim Hongjoong."

Y/N's brow furrowed slightly. "Kim Hongjoong? I'm not sure I'm the right person for a fashion story, sir. Besides, I've already started working on the writer's strike piece."

Mr. Johnson arched an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "I understand your reservations, Miss L/N, but this is a unique opportunity for us. Hongjoong's story is more than just fashion; it's about ambition, creativity, and the relentless pursuit of excellence. I need someone who can capture the essence of his journey, someone with a fresh perspective."

Y/N hesitated, weighing her options. "I'm sorry, I'm a bit confused. You want me to write the strike story and the fashion story?" She questioned him. He leaned back and laughed a bit. 

"Oh no no no, the striker's story will be given to Jongho. I want your focus to be on Mr. Kim. Don't worry, you'll still have 3 weeks to get the story done." Y/N felt a surge of frustration rising within her as Mr. Johnson clarified the assignment. She had poured countless hours into researching and preparing the striker's story, only to have it snatched away in an instant. And now, she was being thrust into a world she knew little about – the world of high fashion.

"But sir," she began, trying to keep her voice steady despite the annoyance bubbling beneath the surface, "I've been working on the striker's story for weeks. I've invested a lot of time and effort into it. I don't think it's fair to just pass it on to someone else."

Mr. Johnson leaned forward, his expression serious. "I understand your frustration, Miss L/N, but this is a decision that's come from higher up. The opportunity to cover Kim Hongjoong's rise to fame is too important for us to pass up. And I believe you're the right person for the job."

Y/N gritted her teeth, her annoyance growing with each passing moment. She knew Mr. Johnson had a point – opportunities like this didn't come around often – but that didn't make it any easier to accept.

"And what about Jongho?" she asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. "He's going to be thrilled about getting the striker's story handed to him on a silver platter. He's going to see this as a victory over me."

Mr. Johnson sighed, rubbing his temples as if trying to ward off an impending headache. "I know Jongho can be... competitive," he admitted, "but this decision wasn't made to pit the two of you against each other. It was made because I believe both of you are capable of handling these assignments. And I trust that you'll rise to the challenge."

Y/N clenched her fists, her frustration reaching its boiling point. She knew arguing further would be futile; Mr. Johnson had made up his mind. With a resigned nod, she forced herself to accept the assignment, pushing aside her annoyance for the time being.

"Fine," she muttered, her tone curt. "I'll do it."

Mr. Johnson offered her a sympathetic smile. "I know this isn't what you had in mind, Y/N, but I promise you won't regret it. Now, go meet with Hongjoong and see where this story takes you. Who knows? You might just discover a whole new world waiting to be explored."

With a heavy sigh, Y/N rose from her seat, her mind already racing with thoughts of the daunting task ahead. As she left Mr. Johnson's office, she couldn't shake the feeling of resentment lingering in the air. But she knew she had no choice but to tackle the assignment head-on, no matter how much she wished things had turned out differently.

"This is such bullshit, I mean I worked day and night on that stupid article. I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into it and now it's going to just be handed off to Jongho. And now, I have to write and article about some random guy from nowhere land. It's an insult, seriously." Y/N stirred the pot of pasta on the stove as she spoke. 

"I'm sorry hun, that sucks. But hey, maybe it won't be so bad, he could be a cool guy." Her friend, Wooyoung, trying to offer sympathy to her. Y/N huffed, her frustration still evident. 

"I highly doubt it. He's just some fashion designer, probably full of himself and his fancy clothes. What could I possibly have in common with him?" She saw Wooyoung shrug through the camera, his expression thoughtful. "You never know until you give it a chance. And who knows? This assignment could lead to something unexpected. Maybe you'll find a new passion, or even make a new friend."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but a small part of her couldn't help but entertain the possibility. "Yeah, right. I highly doubt that." As she continued to stir the pasta, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of resentment lingering in her chest. But amidst the frustration and disappointment, a tiny spark of curiosity flickered to life. Maybe, just maybe, this assignment would turn out to be more than just a nuisance. Only time would tell.

"Hey, when are you coming over again? I need my drinking buddy, especially if I have to deal with some stuck up prick for almost a month." She heard wooyoung laugh through the speaker. 

"I'll make sure to clear my schedule for you. We'll drown in our sorrows together," Wooyoung replied with a chuckle. Y/N couldn't help but crack a smile at Wooyoung's lighthearted response. Despite her frustration, his unwavering support brought a sense of comfort amidst the chaos of her thoughts.

"Thanks, Wooyoung. I appreciate it," she said, her tone softening slightly.

"Anytime, Y/N. Remember, I'm always here for you, no matter what," Wooyoung reassured her.

With a nod of gratitude, Y/N focused her attention back on the pasta, the rhythmic stirring providing a soothing rhythm to her troubled mind. As she contemplated the upcoming assignment and the challenges it would bring, a sense of determination welled up within her.

"Alright, let's plan for a night of debauchery then," she declared with a hint of newfound resolve.

The next day arrived, and Y/N found herself awake before the crack of dawn, her mind already buzzing with thoughts of the upcoming assignment. Determined to make the most of the opportunity, she had set her alarm early to dive into research on this Kim Hongjoong guy, the enigmatic fashion designer who had suddenly become the focus of her journalistic endeavors.

With a steaming cup of coffee in hand, Y/N settled into her cozy living room, her laptop open before her. She typed Kim Hongjoong's name into the search bar, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she delved into the depths of the internet in search of information.

As she sifted through articles, interviews, and social media profiles, Y/N began to piece together a picture of the man behind the designer label. She discovered that Kim Hongjoong had risen to prominence in the fashion world at a remarkably young age, his bold and innovative designs earning him praise from critics and admiration from fashion enthusiasts around the globe.

But amidst the glitz and glamour of the fashion industry, Y/N had found almost nothing about his life before fame. Nothing about his home life, nothing about his family, and barely anything about his friends. Hours passed in a blur as Y/N immersed herself in her research, her determination fueling her relentless pursuit of knowledge. By the time the sun began to peek through the curtains, she had compiled a wealth of information on Kim Hongjoong, ready to embark on the next phase of her assignment.

Y/N navigated the bustling streets of Seoul with purpose, her steps quick and determined as she made her way to Hongjoong's office. The city buzzed with energy around her, a vibrant tapestry of sights and sounds that served as the backdrop to her journey.

As she weaved through the crowded sidewalks, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the juxtaposition of modernity and tradition that defined Seoul. Towering skyscrapers loomed overhead, their glass facades reflecting the morning sunlight, while historic palaces nestled amidst the urban sprawl, remnants of a bygone era.

With each step, Y/N felt a sense of dread building within her. She was about to meet Kim Hongjoong, the rising star of the fashion world, and she couldn't help but wonder what awaited her behind the doors of his office. Finally, y/n arrived at her destination – a sleek, modern building nestled amidst the towering structures of the city skyline. With a sense of determination, she pushed open the glass doors and stepped inside, her gaze sweeping over the pristine interior.

As Y/N made her way through the lobby, her gaze scanning the pristine interior, she was halted by a woman in heels standing by the elevator.

"Ma'am, you need to check in," the woman said politely, her tone firm but courteous. Y/N nodded, realizing she hadn't yet announced her arrival. "Of course, I'm here to see Kim Hongjoong," she replied, offering a small smile.

The woman nodded in acknowledgment and motioned for Y/N to follow her. Together, they approached a sleek reception desk where another impeccably dressed individual sat behind a computer screen.

"Good morning, how may I assist you?" the receptionist asked with a professional demeanor.

"I'm here to see Kim Hongjoong," Y/N repeated, feeling a twinge of nervousness creeping in despite her best efforts to remain composed. The receptionist typed something into the computer before glancing up at Y/N with a polite smile. "And your name, please?"

"Y/N.....Y/N L/N," she replied, feeling a surge of anticipation as she awaited the receptionist's response.

After a moment of typing, the receptionist nodded. "Ah, yes. You're expected. Please sign in here, and Mr. Kim's assistant will be with you shortly."

Y/N complied, quickly scribbling her signature on the designated spot before handing the pen back to the receptionist.

"Thank you. Please wait in the designated area over there," the receptionist said, gesturing towards a stylish seating area off to the side.

With a nod of gratitude, Y/N made her way to the designated area, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. She couldn't help but wonder what awaited her behind the doors of Kim Hongjoong's office, and she was determined to find out.

As Y/N settled into the designated seating area, she couldn't shake the nervous energy coursing through her veins. She glanced around the sleek and modern lobby, taking in the minimalist decor and the hushed murmurs of other visitors waiting nearby. Minutes felt like hours as Y/N anxiously waited for his assistant to arrive. Her mind raced with questions and uncertainties, her anticipation building with each passing moment.

Finally, a door to the side of the lobby opened, and a sharply dressed woman emerged. "Miss L/N?" she called out, her voice cutting through the air.

y/n rose from her seat, her heart pounding in her chest. "Yes, that's me," she replied, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

The woman offered a warm smile as she approached. "I'm Mr. Kim's assistant. He's ready to see you now."

Y/N followed the assistant through the door, her pulse quickening with each step. She couldn't help but wonder what awaited her behind the closed doors of Kim Hongjoong's office – a world of glamour and creativity, or something more unexpected. As they reached the door to Kim Hongjoong's office, the assistant paused and turned to Y/N with a reassuring smile. "Good luck, Miss L/N."

With a grateful nod, Y/N took a deep breath and braced herself before stepping through the door, ready to embark on the next chapter of her assignment and uncover the mysteries hidden within the world of high fashion.

As Y/N entered Kim Hongjoong's office, she couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension mingled with her professional demeanor. The sleek interior of the room exuded an air of sophistication, from the modern furnishings to the artfully arranged fashion sketches adorning the walls.

Kim Hongjoong rose from his seat behind the desk, his presence commanding attention. Despite her reservations, Y/N couldn't deny the subtle charm that emanated from him as he extended his hand in greeting.

"Miss L/N, it's a pleasure to meet you," he said with a warm smile, his voice carrying a hint of genuine warmth.

Y/N accepted his handshake with a nod, her expression carefully neutral. "Likewise, Mr. Kim," she replied, her tone professional. As they settled into their respective seats, Y/N wasted no time in getting down to business. She fired off questions with precision, her demeanor cool and detached as she sought to glean insights into Kim Hongjoong's rise to fame and his creative process.

To her surprise, Kim Hongjoong proved to be an engaging and candid interviewee. He spoke with passion and conviction about his journey in the fashion industry, sharing anecdotes and insights that offered glimpses into the man behind the designer label.

As the interview progressed, Y/N found herself gradually letting her guard down, intrigued by Kim Hongjoong's sincerity and humility. Despite her initial skepticism, she couldn't deny the genuine passion he exuded for his craft, nor the depth of his knowledge and experience.

By the time the interview drew to a close, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of intrigue that lingered within her. Perhaps there was more to Kim Hongjoong than met the eye – perhaps he wasn't just another arrogant celebrity living off his family's wealth.

"That was great, Mr. Kim," she remarked, her tone softer than before. "If it's alright, I would love to come by your studio sometime this week and watch you work."

Kim Hongjoong's eyes lit up with genuine enthusiasm at the suggestion. "Of course, I'd be delighted to have you visit," he replied warmly, his smile infectious. "I'll have my assistant arrange everything. It'll be a pleasure to show you the creative process behind my designs."

Y/N couldn't suppress the flicker of excitement that sparked within her at the prospect of witnessing Kim Hongjoong's creative process firsthand. Despite her initial reluctance to take on the assignment, she couldn't deny the allure of delving deeper into the world of high fashion and exploring the complexities of Kim Hongjoong's journey.

With a nod of gratitude, Y/N rose from her seat, feeling a newfound sense of curiosity and anticipation coursing through her veins. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to Kim Hongjoong than met the eye. 

As Y/N observed Hongjoong and his team tirelessly working to put together outfits for the upcoming fashion show, she couldn't help but feel a sense of detachment from the flurry of activity surrounding her. Despite Kim Hongjoong's kindness during their interview a few days prior, she remained largely disinterested in the fashion aspect of everything.

She watched from the sidelines as fabrics were draped and patterns were meticulously arranged, her mind drifting to other matters. The intricate details of the garments held little significance to her, and she found it difficult to muster the same level of enthusiasm as those around her.

Kim Hongjoong, ever the gracious host, occasionally glanced her way with a smile, eager to share his creative process with her. But Y/N's attention remained elsewhere, her thoughts consumed by the pressing deadlines and obligations awaiting her outside the realm of high fashion.

As the day wore on, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of restlessness gnawing at her. Despite her best efforts to immerse herself in the world of fashion, she found it increasingly difficult to connect with the intricate workings of Kim Hongjoong's design process.

But amidst the chaos of the fashion studio, a small spark of curiosity flickered within her. Despite her initial reluctance, Y/N couldn't help but wonder what drove Kim Hongjoong and his team to pour their hearts and souls into their creations. Perhaps there was more to the world of fashion than met the eye – and she was determined to uncover the truth, no matter where it might lead.

Summoning her professionalism, Y/N approached Kim Hongjoong during a brief lull in the chaos, her notepad in hand as she prepared to conduct her interview.

"Mr. Kim," she began, her tone businesslike yet polite, "I'd like to ask you a few questions for the report. What inspired the collection you're working on for the upcoming fashion show?"

Hongjoong turned his attention to Y/N, his expression brightening as he welcomed the opportunity to share his creative process. "Of course," he replied, his voice warm and inviting. "The inspiration behind this collection is a blend of traditional Korean elements with a modern twist. I wanted to pay homage to my cultural heritage while also pushing the boundaries of contemporary fashion."

Y/N nodded attentively, scribbling notes as Kim Hongjoong elaborated on his vision. Despite her initial reservations, she couldn't help but be drawn in by his passion and sincerity.

"And how do you go about translating that inspiration into your designs?" she inquired, eager to delve deeper into his creative process. Hongjoong's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he launched into a detailed explanation, his gestures animated as he described the meticulous craftsmanship and attention to detail that went into each garment. He spoke of hours spent sketching, draping fabrics, and experimenting with textures and colors until his vision was brought to life.

As Y/N listened to Kim Hongjoong's words, she felt a newfound sense of admiration for the fashion designer before her. Despite her initial skepticism, she couldn't deny the depth of his dedication to his craft and the genuine passion he exuded for his work.

With each passing moment, Y/N found herself becoming increasingly intrigued by Kim Hongjoong and the world he inhabited. But Y/N wasn't content with just Kim Hongjoong's perspective. She sought out other members of his team, eager to gain insight into their experiences working alongside the renowned fashion designer.

"Excuse me," she addressed one of the seamstresses, her voice polite yet inquisitive. "What's it like working with Mr. Kim? How would you describe his approach to design?"

The seamstress smiled warmly, her eyes sparkling with admiration for her boss. "Oh, Mr. Kim is truly a visionary. He's incredibly dedicated to his craft and always pushes us to do our best work. It's an honor to be part of his team."

As Y/N continued her interviews with various members of Kim Hongjoong's team, she couldn't help but notice the genuine respect and admiration they all held for their leader. She couldn't deny the impact Kim Hongjoong had on those around him, nor the depth of his commitment to his art.

The day drew to a close, the bustling activity in the fashion studio gradually subsided, signaling the end of another productive day. Fabrics were neatly folded, sketches were carefully stored away, and the last few adjustments were made to the outfits for the upcoming fashion show.

Kim Hongjoong, ever the gracious host, approached Y/N with a warm smile. "Thank you for joining us today, Miss L/N," he said, his tone genuine. "I hope you found the experience enlightening."

Y/N returned his smile, a sense of newfound respect evident in her expression. "Thank you, Mr. Kim," she replied, her voice sincere. "It was certainly an eye-opening experience. I appreciate you taking the time to share your insights with me."

As the rest of the team began to pack up and prepare to leave for the day, Hongjoong turned to Y/N once more. "Before you go, would you like to grab a coffee or a bite to eat? I'd love to continue our conversation."

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her initial reluctance warring with the growing curiosity within her. But ultimately, she found herself nodding in agreement. "I'd like that," she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Together, Y/N and Kim Hongjoong made their way out of the studio, making their way to a nearby coffee house that Hongjoong favors. The atmosphere in the coffee house was cozy and inviting, a welcome respite from the hustle and bustle of the fashion studio. Y/N and Kim Hongjoong found a secluded corner table, their conversation flowing effortlessly as they sipped on steaming cups of coffee.

"So, what did you think?" He asked, taking a sip out of the mug the barista had handed him moments ago. 

Y/N paused for a moment, considering her response carefully. "Honestly?" she began, meeting his gaze with a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. "I didn't expect to enjoy myself as much as I did today. I've never been particularly interested in fashion, but seeing the passion and dedication you and your team put into your work... it's inspiring."

Hongjoong smiled warmly, his eyes reflecting genuine appreciation for her words. "I'm glad to hear that," he replied, his voice tinged with sincerity. "Fashion is more than just clothes – it's a form of self-expression, a way to tell stories and evoke emotions. I'm honored to be able to share that with you." Taking out her notepad, she quickly jotted the line down, mind still focused on work. Hongjoong smiled seeing this and gently took the pen out of her hand. 

"You know, I was hoping to get to know more about you Miss L/N. I've only met the person interviewing me." Y/N felt a slight flush creep into her cheeks as Kim Hongjoong's words registered. She hadn't expected him to express an interest in her beyond their professional interaction. Despite her initial reluctance, she found herself intrigued by the prospect of getting to know him better outside the confines of their interview.

"I... I suppose there's not much to know," she replied, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips. "I'm just your average journalist, always chasing after the next story."

Hongjoong's smile only widened at her response, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "I highly doubt that," he said, his tone playful. "I have a feeling there's much more to you than meets the eye. But hey, if you're not ready to spill all your secrets just yet, I understand. We've got plenty of time."

Y/N couldn't help but return his smile, her initial reservations melting away in the warmth of his presence. "What is it you'd like to know?" Y/N asked, her voice betraying a hint of curiosity despite her attempts to remain composed.

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression crossing his features as he considered her question. "Well, for starters, what led you to become a journalist?" he asked, his gaze never wavering from hers.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her mind drifting back to the defining moments that had shaped her career path. "I suppose it all started when I was young," she began, her tone introspective. "I've always had a passion for storytelling and a desire to uncover the truth. Journalism felt like the perfect outlet for both."

As she spoke, Y/N found herself opening up to Kim Hongjoong in a way she hadn't expected. His genuine interest in her story made her feel seen and heard in a way she hadn't experienced in a long time. "And what about you?" she asked, eager to turn the spotlight back on him. "What inspired you to pursue a career in fashion?"

"Please, we've been talking about me all day, I'm sure your sick of me talking about myself." Y/N couldn't help but smile at Hongjoong's response, appreciating his humility and consideration. 

"Well, in that case, let's change the subject," she replied, grateful for the opportunity to shift the focus away from herself for a moment. "How about we talk about something completely unrelated to work?" Hongjoong's eyes sparkled with amusement as he leaned back in his chair, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "I'm all ears," he said, his tone light and inviting.

And so, Y/N and Hongjoong spent the rest of the evening engaged in lively conversation, their laughter mingling with the ambient chatter of the coffee house. They talked about everything and nothing – from their favorite books and movies to their most embarrassing childhood memories.

As the hours passed, Y/N found herself completely immersed in the moment, grateful for the chance to simply be herself in the company of someone who accepted her without judgment or pretense.

By the time they finally parted ways, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected connection she had forged with Kim Hongjoong. Despite their vastly different  professions, they had discovered a shared sense of camaraderie and understanding that transcended the boundaries of their respective worlds. As she made her way home, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of warmth and contentment that filled her heart. 

"You're in trouble." Y/N stopped her task and looked at her friend. "Why do you say that." She asked. Wooyoung gave a stern look to her and stood. 

"Have you realized you've been talking about nothing but Hongjoong for the past hour. I mean, come on, I know your doing this story on him but you sound obsessed. You'd think being around him 24/7 for the past week would make you not want to talk about him"  Y/N paused, her friend's words sinking in as she considered them carefully. "I... I hadn't realized," she admitted, her brows furrowing in concern. 

"I didn't mean to come across as obsessed. It's just... he's been on my mind a lot lately, with the interviews and everything." Wooyoung nodded sympathetically, taking a seat beside her. "I get it, believe me. But you need to remember to keep some perspective. This isn't just about Kim Hongjoong – it's about the story you're telling. Don't lose sight of that."

Y/N sighed, feeling a sense of guilt wash over her. "You're right," she conceded, her voice tinged with regret. "I guess I got caught up in the excitement of it all and forgot why I started this in the first place."

Wooyoung placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, offering her a reassuring smile. "Hey, it happens to the best of us. Just take a step back, breathe, and refocus. You've got this."

Feeling a renewed sense of determination, Y/N nodded, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thanks, Wooyoung. I needed that."

"Is he at least nice?" Wooyoung asked. Y/N paused for a moment, her mind drifting back to her interactions with Hongjoong. Despite her initial reservations, she couldn't deny that he had been nothing but kind and welcoming towards her.

"Yeah, he's actually really nice," she admitted, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "He's passionate about his work and is genuine. It's... refreshing."

Wooyoung's smile widened at her response, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Well, then I guess it's not so bad after all," he said, his tone teasing. "Just remember to keep your head on straight, okay? Don't let those puppy dog eyes distract you from the task at hand."

Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes at her friend's playful jab. "I'll do my best," she promised, feeling a sense of gratitude for his unwavering support.

The pair continued to enjoy their evening together, the gentle hum of conversation and laughter filling the air, Y/N's phone chimed with the arrival of a new email. Curious, she glanced down at the screen, her heart skipping a beat when she saw the sender's name: Kim Hongjoong.

With a sense of anticipation, Y/N opened the email, her eyes scanning the contents with eager interest. As she read Kim Hongjoong's words, a wave of disappointment washed over her.

"He won't be available for a one-on-one session for the rest of the week," she explained to Wooyoung, her voice tinged with a hint of regret. 

Wooyoung frowned in sympathy. "That sucks," he said, leaning back against the couch. "But hey, at least you’ve got plenty of material already, right? And it might give you some time to reflect on everything you’ve gathered so far."

Y/N nodded slowly, setting her phone aside. "You're right. I've been so focused on getting more that I haven’t really taken the time to process everything I’ve learned."

Wooyoung grinned, nudging her playfully. "See? It’s all about perspective. Plus, now you can actually take a breather and maybe do something fun for a change."

She laughed, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease. "Like what? You know my idea of fun is curling up with a good book or binge-watching a series."

"Which is exactly what you need," Wooyoung replied, his eyes twinkling. "A little escapism never hurt anyone. How about we start with a movie night? Something completely unrelated to work."

"Alright, alright," Y/N conceded, smiling at his enthusiasm. "But you get to pick the movie, my brain feels like mush."

"Deal!" he said, jumping up to rummage through her collection of DVDs and streaming services. As he did, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a warm sense of appreciation for her friend’s efforts to lift her spirits.

As the opening credits rolled on a lighthearted comedy, Y/N settled back into the couch, her thoughts drifting briefly back to Hongjoong. Despite the disappointment of not getting more time with him this week, she realized that Wooyoung was right. This break might be exactly what she needed to regain her focus and ensure that her story about Hongjoong was as well-rounded and insightful as possible.

Halfway through the movie, Y/N found herself laughing freely at the antics on screen, the worries and stress of the past week melting away. She glanced over at Wooyoung, who was equally engrossed in the film, and felt a surge of gratitude for his unwavering support and friendship.

As the credits rolled and the movie came to an end, Wooyoung turned to her with a satisfied grin. "Feeling better?"

"Much," Y/N admitted, her smile genuine. "Thanks for this, Woo. I really needed it."

"Anytime," he replied, giving her a quick side hug. "Now, let’s plan something fun for tomorrow. Maybe a little adventure around the city or trying out that new café downtown?"

Y/N’s eyes lit up at the suggestion. "That sounds perfect."

Y/N sat at her desk, the soft hum of the office around her providing a comforting backdrop as she put the finishing touches on her article. The past few days had been a whirlwind, but the final one-on-one interview with Kim Hongjoong had been worth the wait. It had given her the deeper insights she needed to tie everything together.

She glanced at the clock, noting that she still had a few hours before her deadline. Taking a deep breath, she reread her article from the beginning, ensuring that every detail was perfect. Y/N leaned back in her chair, a sense of accomplishment washing over her. She had captured the essence of Kim Hongjoong, not just as a designer, but as a person. His passion, dedication, and kindness were all there, woven into the fabric of her article.

Satisfied with her work, she saved the document and sent it off to her editor. As she did, a wave of relief and pride filled her. She had done justice to Hongjoong's story, and she knew it would resonate with readers.

Just then, her phone buzzed with a message. It was from Wooyoung: "How's the article going? Ready to celebrate?"

Y/N smiled, typing back a quick response. "Just submitted it! Let's definitely celebrate."

Closing her laptop, Y/N felt a sense of closure and excitement for what lay ahead. She had grown both professionally and personally from this experience, and she was eager to see how her article would be received. 

The elevator ride down felt different today. There was a lightness in her step, a sense of fulfillment that accompanied the completion of a job well done. Stepping out into the warm evening, she saw Wooyoung waiting for her by the entrance, his familiar grin spreading across his face as he waved.

"Hey there, star reporter," he called out, pulling her into a hug. "How does it feel to have finished your masterpiece?"

Y/N laughed, the tension of the past days melting away in her friend's embrace. "It feels incredible. I can't wait for you to read it."

Wooyoung gave her a playful nudge as they began walking down the street towards their favorite café. "I'm sure it's amazing. I wouldn't expect anything less from you."

They settled into a cozy corner of the café, the rich aroma of coffee and the soft chatter of other patrons creating a comforting atmosphere. Wooyoung ordered their usual drinks, and soon they were clinking glasses in a celebratory toast.

"To hard work, passion, and a job well done," Wooyoung said, his eyes twinkling with pride. Y/N raised her glass with him with a grateful smile.

As they sipped their drinks, Y/N filled Wooyoung in on the highlights of her final interview with Hongjoong. She recounted the moments that had left the deepest impression on her—the candid discussions about his creative process, his reflections on the challenges he faced, and his unwavering commitment to his art and his fans.

"You know," Y/N said thoughtfully, "this experience has really made me appreciate the power of storytelling. Hongjoong's journey is so inspiring, and I feel honored to have had the chance to share it."

Wooyoung nodded, his expression serious. "And you're amazing at it, Y/N. You have a gift for capturing the heart of a story. I'm proud of you."

Her phone buzzed again, interrupting the moment. It was a notification from her editor. Curious, she opened the message, her eyes scanning the text quickly. A smile spread across her face as she read the words of praise and approval.

"Well, it looks like the editor loves it," she announced, her excitement bubbling over. "They're going to feature it in the next issue!"

Wooyoung cheered, drawing the attention of a few nearby patrons who smiled at their infectious enthusiasm. "That's fantastic news! You deserve it, Y/N."

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, conversation, and celebration. As they walked back home under the starry sky, Y/N felt a profound sense of contentment. She had achieved something meaningful, and she had done it with the support of her best friend.

It was a Wednesday morning, almost a week and a half after her article had been published. Today was supposed. to be her day off, her one day to sleep through the morning. Unfortunately, life had other plans for her. With a loud ring, Y/N groggily reached for her phone, her mind still hazy with sleep. She fumbled to answer it, her eyes squinting against the early morning light filtering through the curtains.

"Hello?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

"Good Morning Miss L/N," came the crisp voice on the other end. Instantly, she sat up, her heart pounding. She hadn't checked the caller ID and now realized it was her editor calling her this early for a reason.

"Good morning, sir," she replied, trying to sound more awake. "Is everything okay?"

"Better than okay," her boss responded, his tone filled with excitement. "Your article on Kim Hongjoong has been a massive success. The response from our readers has been overwhelmingly positive. You've done a fantastic job."

Relief and pride surged through Y/N, but before she could fully process the news, her boss continued.

"Listen, Fashion Week is starting in a few days, and we want to capitalize on this momentum. I want you to cover the event. You'll have full access to shows, backstage, everything. Think you can handle it?"

Y/N's mind raced. Fashion Week was a huge opportunity, a chance to solidify her reputation as a top-tier journalist. Despite the early hour and the whirlwind of thoughts in her head, she felt a surge of excitement.

"Absolutely, sir," she said, her voice firm with determination. "I won't let you down."

"Good to hear," her boss replied. "We'll send you all the details and your press credentials later today. And hey, Kim Hongjoong will be there so be sure to get some stuff on his collection. Get some rest; you're going to need it."

As she hung up, Y/N sat in bed, the news sinking in. Fashion Week. It was an event she had never dreamt of covering, but now it was happening. She quickly called the one person who could help her think this through. 

"Girl, I didn't think I would hear from you until 1pm. I thought you were off today?" Wooyoungs voice echoed through the phone speaker. 

"Just shut up and listen ok. My boss called me and guess what? My article on Hongjoong was a hit! And now I get to cover Fashion Week!" she paused, awaiting her friends reaction. 

A reply came almost instantly. "Holy shit, that's amazing, Y/N! Please tell me you get to bring a plus one. I would kill to be there."

"Unfortunately not, but, I don't know if I can do this Woo. I still know almost nothing on fashion, and now I'm covering one of the biggest fashion events of the year." She got out of bed, her mind already buzzing with ideas for her coverage. 

"What do you mean? You did the story with Hongjoong and look how that turned out." Y/N made her way to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. 

"That was different, that was about a person who just so happened to be in the industry. This will be about the industry itself." She heard Wooyoung hum in thought, her mind already racing to her natural pessimistic thoughts. 

"Wait, that's it. Hongjoong, he's your key." Y/N furrowed her brows. 

"What do you mean?"

"You already have a connection, Hongjoong. Ask him for advice, you're not doing on article on him exclusively anymore so it wouldn't be inappropriate to reach out randomly."  Y/N's hand paused over the coffee pot, Wooyoung's words echoing in her mind. Of course, Hongjoong. She had built a rapport with him, and his insight could be invaluable for covering Fashion Week.

"You think he'd be willing to help?" she asked, doubt creeping into her voice.

"Absolutely," Wooyoung said with confidence. "He seemed to like you and appreciate your work. Just reach out to him, and I'm sure he'll offer some guidance. Besides, you made him look good with that article."

A small smile tugged at Y/N's lips. "You're right. I'll email him today and see if he has some time to chat before Fashion Week starts."

"Perfect! And remember, you’ve got this. You're more prepared than you think," Wooyoung said encouragingly.

"Thanks, Woo. I really needed that pep talk," Y/N replied, feeling a surge of determination.

"Anytime. Now go conquer the fashion world!"

After hanging up, Y/N sat at her kitchen table, her coffee steaming beside her. She opened her laptop and began composing an email to Hongjoong.

Hi Mr. Kim, I hope this message finds you well. I wanted to thank you once again for your time during our interviews – the article was a great success, and I owe a lot of that to your openness and insights. I have some exciting news: I'll be covering Fashion Week for my publication. Since this is my first time covering such a major event, I was wondering if you might have some time to chat and offer any advice or insights. Your perspective on the industry would be incredibly valuable as I prepare for this assignment. Looking forward to hearing from you soon. Best, Y/N

Satisfied with the message, she hit send and leaned back, sipping her coffee. The nerves were still there, but so was a sense of excitement and readiness. This was a huge opportunity, and she was determined to make the most of it.

Later that day, as she was organizing her notes and planning her coverage, her phone pinged with a new email notification.

Hi Y/N, Great to hear from you! I'm glad the article was well-received. I'd be happy to help you out with Fashion Week. How about we meet for coffee one morning? Maybe when you arrive in Paris? I have some time free before my final prep for the event. Looking forward to catching up. Best, Hongjoong

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. She quickly replied, confirming the time and place.

The morning came to meet Hongjoon. Y/N arrived at the coffee shop a little early, her notebook and pen ready. She felt a mix of excitement and nerves as she waited. When Hongjoong walked in, looking effortlessly stylish, she stood to greet him with a smile.

"Y/N, good to see you," he said warmly, taking a seat across from her.

"Thank you so much for meeting with me," she began. "I really appreciate it."

"Of course," Hongjoong replied. "So, tell me, what do you want to know about Fashion Week?"

As they chatted over coffee, Hongjoong shared his experiences, offering tips on what to focus on, key people to watch, and the latest trends. His insights were invaluable, and Y/N felt her confidence growing with each passing minute.

"Remember," Hongjoong said as they wrapped up, "Fashion Week is about more than just the clothes. It's about the people, the creativity, the stories behind the designs. Capture that, and you'll do great."

Y/N left the coffee shop feeling inspired and ready to tackle Fashion Week. With Hongjoong's advice in mind and her own determination, she knew she could bring something special to her coverage. This was her moment, and she was ready to shine.

The first day of Fashion Week arrived, and Y/N stood at the entrance of the grand venue, press credentials hanging around her neck. The energy in the air was electric, with designers, models, and fashion enthusiasts bustling around in a blur of colors and fabrics. She took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves.

Her first assignment was to cover the opening show, featuring several up-and-coming designers. She made her way to the press area, setting up her notebook and camera. As she scanned the crowd, she spotted Hongjoong speaking with a group of industry insiders. He caught her eye and gave her a reassuring nod, which bolstered her confidence.

The lights dimmed, and the show began. Models strutted down the runway in stunning creations, each piece telling a unique story. Y/N took meticulous notes, capturing the essence of each collection and the reactions of the audience. She remembered Hongjoong's advice: focus on the stories behind the designs.

After the show, she navigated through the sea of people, seeking out designers for quick interviews. She managed to speak with a few, their excitement and passion evident in their words. Their stories added depth to her coverage, providing insights that would resonate with her readers.

Later in the day, Y/N attended a panel discussion on sustainable fashion. The panelists, including prominent designers and industry experts, discussed the future of fashion and the importance of sustainability. Y/N found their perspectives enlightening and jotted down key points for her article.

During a brief break, Y/N sat in the press lounge, sipping on a bottle of water. She reviewed her notes, feeling a sense of accomplishment. The day had been intense, but she had managed to gather a wealth of information and insights.

Just as she was about to head to the next event, her phone buzzed with a new message. It was from her editor: "Great job so far! Your updates have been fantastic. Keep up the good work."

Smiling, Y/N replied with a quick thank you and made her way to the evening's highlight: Kim Hongjoong's collection showcase. The anticipation was palpable as she entered the venue, the air buzzing with excitement.

The lights dimmed, and the first model stepped onto the runway, wearing one of Hongjoong's creations. The audience watched in awe as each piece was revealed, a testament to Hongjoong's creativity and skill. Y/N could see the dedication and passion that Hongjoong had spoken about during their interviews.

After the show, Y/N managed to catch Hongjoong for a quick word. "That was incredible," she said, genuinely impressed.

"Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate your support," Hongjoong replied with a warm smile. "How's your coverage going?"

"Really well," she said. "Thanks to your advice, I feel like I'm capturing the essence of the event."

"That's great to hear." As Hongjoong chuckled, Y/N couldn't help but notice the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and the genuine warmth of his smile. There was an effortless charm about him, a confidence in the way he carried himself that drew people in. It suddenly struck her just how attractive he was, not just in appearance but in his demeanor and presence.

"I have to say," Y/N began, trying to keep her thoughts professional, "your collection really captured the audience. The details and craftsmanship were exceptional."

Hongjoong's smile widened, and he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Coming from you, that means a lot. I’ve read your articles; you have a way of bringing stories to life."

Y/N felt a blush creep up her cheeks. "Thank you. That really means a lot."

There was a moment of silence between them, filled with the buzzing energy of the crowd around them. Y/N took the opportunity to observe Hongjoong more closely. His eyes were focused, yet kind, and there was an intensity to him that was incredibly appealing. She found herself drawn to the passion that seemed to radiate from him, not just for his work, but in everything he did.

"I should let you get back to your evening," Y/N said, snapping herself out of her thoughts. "I’m sure you have a lot of people to talk to."

"Actually," Hongjoong said, glancing around, "I’ve spoken to most of them already. How about we grab a quick meal? I’d love to hear more about your thoughts on the show."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "That sounds great," she replied, trying to keep her excitement in check. "Let me just grab my things."

As they made their way to a nearby restaurant, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of warmth and excitement bubbling within her. She found herself stealing glances at Hongjoong, noticing the way he held himself with a quiet confidence, yet remained approachable and genuine.

Over dinner, their conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on everything from their shared love for art and music to their aspirations and dreams. Y/N discovered that Hongjoong had a passion for storytelling, not just through his designs but also through his experiences and the way he interacted with the world around him.

With each passing moment, Y/N found herself drawn deeper into Hongjoong's world, captivated by his insights and the depth of his character. She admired his humility and the way he spoke with such sincerity about his craft and the people who inspired him.

As they laughed and shared stories, Y/N realized just how much she enjoyed being in Hongjoong's presence. There was a sense of comfort and familiarity between them, as if they had known each other for much longer than just a few days.

As the evening drew to a close, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of longing. She didn't want the night to end, didn't want to say goodbye to this newfound connection that felt so right.

As they stepped out into the cool night air, Hongjoong turned to her with a smile that reached his eyes. "Thank you for tonight, Y/N. I had a great time."

Y/N smiled back, her heart fluttering with anticipation. "Me too, Mr. Kim. It was... really special."

She heard Hongjoong click his tongue and playfully glare at her. "You don't work for me you know." He let out a small laugh. Y/N stared at him in question. 

"What do you mean." Hongjoong's smile softened, and he shook his head gently. "I mean, you don't have to call me 'Mr. Kim' all the time. Just call me Hongjoong."

Y/N felt a rush of warmth flood her cheeks. "Oh, right. Sorry, force of habit, I guess."

"No need to apologize," Hongjoong said, his tone gentle. "I just want you to feel comfortable around me."

Y/N nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Thank you, Hongjoong. I appreciate that."

They stood there for a moment, the cool night air wrapping around them like a comforting embrace. Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of closeness with Hongjoong, a connection that went beyond their professional interactions.

As they said their goodbyes and went their separate ways, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them, something deeper and more meaningful than just a casual acquaintance.

As she made her way home, Y/N couldn't help but replay their conversation in her mind, savoring the warmth of Hongjoong's smile and the genuine kindness in his eyes. She couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in her chest as she wondered what the future held for them. But one thing was for sure – she was eager to find out.

The sunlight streamed through the windows as Y/N bustled around the apartment she'd been staying at, preparing for the evening ahead. She was buzzing with excitement, and having Wooyoung on facetime only added to the anticipation. Y/N sat on the couch with her laptop, surrounded by a cozy atmosphere of dimmed lights and soft music playing in the background. It was a much-needed moment of relaxation after the excitement of the previous night.

"So, spill the tea," Wooyoung said, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. "How was your night with Mr. Kim?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, though there was a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "It was... interesting," she replied, choosing her words carefully.

"Interesting, huh?" Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Do tell."

Y/N recounted the events of the evening, from Hongjoong's invitation to grab a meal to the lively conversation they had shared. She described the way Hongjoong's passion for his work shone through in every word he spoke, and the genuine connection she felt with him.

"It was just... nice," Y/N concluded, her cheeks flushing slightly. "He's a really great guy, you know?"

Wooyoung nodded thoughtfully, a knowing smile on his face. "I'm glad to hear that. And hey, maybe this could be the start of something more, huh?"

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the thought, a mix of excitement and uncertainty swirling inside her. "I don't think so," she admitted. Wooyoung loudly tapped his screen, gaining her attention. "Hey, I was joking. Look, whatever happens, I'm here for you, okay? Just like I've always been."

Y/N couldn't help but smile at her friend's words, feeling grateful for his unwavering support. Suddenly, her phone started ringing. 

"Who is it? Oh, is it Soomi? We haven't heard from her in a while?" Wooyoung asks as Y/N reaches for her phone. 

"No, it's an unknown number." Y/N contemplates hitting decline, but something tells her to answer the call. 

"Hi, this is Y/N L/N speaking." A familiar laugh could be heard on the other line. 

"Wow, so you're just professional in all areas of life huh?" Y/N nearly drops her phone from the realization. She dramatically turns to face Wooyoung on her computer screen, who immediately takes notices and mouths 'who is it?' 

"Hongjoong, Hi! What uh...What's up?" Wooyoung quickly leaps from his couch to stand, shocked by the revelation. 

Hongjoong's laughter echoed through the phone, warm and familiar. "Not much, just wanted to see how you're doing after last night."

Y/N felt her cheeks flush at the memory of their evening together. "Yeah, I had a really nice time," she admitted, trying to keep her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

"Good to hear," Hongjoong replied. "I know these events can be a lot, especially for first timers. Trust me, my first one I was about to have a panic attack." Y/N heart dropped to her stomach. 

"Right-" she fake laughs. "Yeah, the fashion show. That...yeah it, it was fine." 

Hongjoong chuckled softly. "Well, if you ever need someone to help navigate the chaos, you know where to find me. Speaking of which, I was wondering if you'd like to grab dinner tonight? There's this new restaurant I've been wanting to try, and I thought it would be fun to go together."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the invitation, her mind racing with excitement and nerves. She glanced at Wooyoung, who was practically bouncing with anticipation.

"I...I'd love to," Y/N said, trying to contain her excitement. "Thank you for asking."

Hongjoong's smile was audible through the phone. "Great! I'll text you the details. Looking forward to it, Y/N."

As the call ended, Y/N couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. Wooyoung practically squealed with excitement, grabbing Y/N's hands and jumping up and down in excitement.

"This is it, Y/N! This is your fashion love story unfolding right before our eyes!" Wooyoung exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement.

Y/N laughed, feeling a surge of excitement and gratitude for her supportive friend. "I guess it is," she said, her heart brimming with anticipation for what the evening would bring.

As Y/N stepped out of the bustling restaurant, she was greeted by the sight of Hongjoong waiting for her, a genuine smile lighting up his face. The vibrant lights of the street cast a soft glow around them, adding to the enchanting atmosphere.

"Hey, I wanted to say this earlier but uh-" Hongjoong said, his voice warm and inviting. "You look absolutely stunning tonight."

Y/N felt her cheeks flush at his compliment, a shy smile gracing her lips. "Thank you, Hongjoong," she replied, feeling a flutter of excitement in her chest. "You look pretty amazing yourself."

Hongjoong chuckled, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Thanks, but I think you might be biased."

They fell into step beside each other as they walked away from the venue, the energy of the night still buzzing around them. Y/N couldn't help but steal glances at Hongjoong, admiring the way he carried himself with grace.

As they chatted about the show and their shared experiences, Y/N found herself drawn to Hongjoong's presence more and more. There was something about him that felt familiar yet exhilarating, like finding a piece of herself she never knew was missing.

By the time they reached Y/N's car, she was reluctant to say goodbye. Hongjoong's kindness and charm had left a lasting impression on her, igniting a spark of curiosity and admiration.

"Thank you for tonight, Hongjoong," Y/N said, her voice soft with sincerity. "I had a really wonderful time."

Hongjoong smiled warmly, his gaze lingering on her. "The pleasure was all mine, Y/N," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. "I hope we can do this again sometime." Y/N showed him a soft smile before turning to her car, ready to open the door before Hongjoong gently moved her shoulder so they could face each other. 

"Do you work tomorrow? For the article I mean?" Y/N turned back to face Hongjoong, a small smile playing on her lips. "No, I think they're having someone else cover the next two days so I don't get overwhelmed. Why?"

"I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to the show. All of my designs have been showcased, but I would like to see every one else's. I know fashion isn't your forte but, maybe.....I could change your mind about it." Y/N's heart skipped a beat at Hongjoong's invitation. The idea of spending more time with him, exploring something new together, filled her with excitement.

"I'd love to," she replied, a smile spreading across her face. "It would be a great opportunity to learn more about the industry, especially with such a knowledgeable guide."

Hongjoong's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Great! I'll pick you up tomorrow afternoon, then. We can grab a bite to eat before heading to the show."

As they exchanged goodbyes once more, Y/N felt a rush of anticipation. She couldn't wait to see what the day would bring, eager to spend more time with Hongjoong. Once in her car, she immediately calls Wooyoung, knowing he'll freak out with her. 

"Damn, you guys were out late. So, when's the wedding?" Y/N chuckled at Wooyoung's playful jab. "Very funny. But seriously, you won't believe what happened."

"Oh, spill it already!" Wooyoung's excitement was palpable through the phone.

"Hongjoong asked me to accompany him to another fashion show tomorrow!" Y/N exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement.

"No way! That's huge!" Wooyoung replied, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. "Looks like you're really making an impression on him."

Y/N felt a rush of happiness at her friend's words. "Yeah, it's been... really amazing."

"I'm happy for you, Y/N. This could be the start of something big," Wooyoung said, his tone sincere.

"Thanks, Woo. I'll keep you posted on how it goes tomorrow," Y/N promised, feeling grateful for her friend's unwavering support.

"Can't wait to hear all about it. Now, go get some rest. You've got a big day ahead of you!"

With a smile on her face, Y/N ended the call, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation for what the next day would bring.

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. What the hell am I going to wear. Y/N assumed at this point she had pulled everything out of her closet. Sure, she had planned outfits for attending fashion week, however what she didn't plan was for Kim freaking Hongjoong to ask her to attend with him. Maybe she could just wear what she had originally planned, but would that be enough?

Y/N paced back and forth in her bedroom, her mind racing with a million thoughts. She had spent hours going through her wardrobe, trying on different outfits in a desperate attempt to find the perfect one for the fashion show with Hongjoong. But nothing seemed to feel right.

"Okay, calm down, Y/N," she muttered to herself, trying to quell the rising panic. "You've got this."

Taking a deep breath, Y/N forced herself to sit down on the edge of her bed, her eyes scanning the array of clothes strewn across the room. Suddenly, her gaze landed on a simple yet elegant dress hanging in the corner of her closet.

She hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was too understated for such a glamorous event. But then she remembered Hongjoong's warm smile and kind eyes, and she knew that it wasn't about the dress – it was about being herself.

With newfound determination, Y/N reached for the dress and slipped it on, feeling a sense of confidence wash over her. It may not have been the most extravagant outfit, but it felt right, like a reflection of who she truly was.

As she admired her reflection in the mirror, Y/N couldn't help but smile. Just then, she received a text message. 

Joong Just curious, what's your favorite color? 

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she read the message from Hongjoong. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she typed out her response.

Y/N Green, definitely Green. What about you?

She pressed send, her pulse quickening with anticipation. This simple exchange felt like the beginning of something new, something exciting. And as she waited for Hongjoong's reply, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling inside her.

Joong Probably red, or yellow. I kind of go back and forth. 

Y/N couldn't help but smile at Hongjoong's response. It was endearing to learn a bit more about his preferences, and she found herself feeling even more drawn to him.

Y/N Red and yellow, huh? That's interesting. They're both such vibrant colors.

She hit send, her mind already racing with thoughts of their upcoming day together at the fashion show. This unexpected connection with Hongjoong was sparking something inside her, something she couldn't quite put into words. But one thing was for sure – she was excited to see where it would lead. Her mind wandered to the moments they had shared so far. From their conversations to their time spent together, she couldn't deny the growing connection between them. It was a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time, and it both excited and scared her.

Her phone buzzed, snapping her out of her thoughts. It was a message from Hongjoong.

Joong Yeah, they are. They have their own energy, you know? So, are you ready for today? I should be leaving in about 2 hours to head your way.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she read Hongjoong's message. The anticipation of spending the day with him at the fashion show sent a thrill through her. She quickly composed her response, her fingers dancing over the screen.

Y/N I'm definitely ready! Can't wait to see all the amazing designs and spend the day with you. Let me know when you're on your way, and I'll be ready.

With a satisfied smile, Y/N hit send, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through her veins. Today was going to be something special, and she couldn't wait to see where it would take them.

.....shit, she still needed to get ready.

Y/N's heart fluttered with excitement as she heard a knock on her door, signaling Hongjoong's arrival. With a quick glance in the mirror to ensure she looked presentable, she hurried to answer it.

Opening the door, she was met with the sight of Hongjoong standing there, looking effortlessly stylish as always. His warm smile greeted her, sending a wave of warmth through her.

"Hey, Y/N," he said, his voice soft yet filled with energy. "Ready to go?"

Y/N returned his smile, feeling a surge of excitement as she stepped out to join him. "Definitely," she replied, her voice tinged with anticipation. "Let's do this." Hongjoong stepped out of the way so Y/N could lock her door and they both started heading towards the car. It was a simple black car, not anything extravagant like she had anticipated. Hongjoong reached to open the passenger door, and before she got in, she noticed the bouquet of flowers sitting on the seat. 

"Oh my gosh." She reached down to pick them up, they were beautiful white roses with a light green tissue paper wrapped around the stems. Along with the wrapped tissue, a green ribbon was tied around them as well. 

"Hongjoong, you shouldn't have." Hongjoong chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with warmth as he watched Y/N admire the bouquet. "I wanted to do something special," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "Consider it a small token of appreciation for your company today."

Y/N felt her cheeks flush with color at his thoughtful gesture. "Thank you," she replied, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. "They're beautiful."

As she carefully arranged the bouquet in her lap, she couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and affection towards Hongjoong. It was moments like these that made her realize just how much she enjoyed his company.

With a smile, she settled into the passenger seat, the scent of the flowers filling the air around her. As Hongjoong started the car and they began their journey to the fashion show, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that this day was going to be something truly special.

As they drove through the bustling streets, Y/N couldn't help but steal glances at Hongjoong, admiring the way he effortlessly navigated through the traffic with ease. His focused expression spoke volumes about his determination and drive, qualities that she found incredibly admirable.

"So, what are you most excited to see at the show today?" Y/N asked, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

She saw Hongjoong think for a moment, his mind drifting to the array of designers and collections they were about to witness. "Honestly, I'm excited to see the diversity and creativity on display," he replied, his voice tinged with anticipation. "Fashion has this incredible ability to tell stories and evoke emotions."

Y/N nodded in agreement, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I couldn't agree more," she said. "Each designer brings their own unique perspective and vision to the table, and it's always fascinating to see how it all comes together on the runway."

Hongjoong smiled, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. "Exactly. It's like witnessing art in motion."

As they continued their conversation, Y/N felt a sense of comfort wash over her. There was something about being with Hongjoong that felt easy and natural, like they had known each other for much longer than they actually had.

Before long, they arrived at the venue, greeted by the bustling energy of the fashion show. Y/N's excitement grew with each step they took towards the entrance, eager to immerse herself in the world of haute couture. She watched as paparazzi crowded the front entrance, only now realizing she would be captured with him. A sudden fear overcame her, she quickly reached for Hongjoong's hand after he turned off the car. 

"Wait-" Hongjoong looked at her, putting his hand back down from where it was on the car doors handle. "Everything ok?" 

"When we step out, you're going to be bombarded with questions. Especially with me right next to you." Hongjoong could see the anxiety filling her features, a soft smile played on his lips. "Y/N..." 

"You know what, why don't you go ahead. I'll just park the car somewhere in the garage and meet you inside, ok? Ok, sounds great." 

"Y/N, " Hongjoong removed her hand from his and gently held her face. "listen to me." Hongjoong's touch was gentle yet firm, his gaze unwavering as he met Y/N's eyes. "You don't have to worry about a thing," he said, his voice filled with reassurance. "I'll be right by your side every step of the way."

"I'm not worried about me, I'm worried about you. Your image." Hongjoong's expression softened at Y/N's words, a small smile playing on his lips. "My image?" he echoed, his tone curious.

Y/N nodded, her eyes searching his. "You're a public figure, Hongjoong. You have a reputation to uphold, and being seen with someone like me might not be the best thing for you."

Hongjoong's smile grew, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Y/N, you're not just 'someone like me'," he said, his voice earnest. "You're someone I genuinely enjoy spending time with, someone who I feel brings out the best in me."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, a warmth spreading through her chest. "But-"

Hongjoong gently placed a finger against her lips, silencing her. "No buts," he said, his gaze unwavering. "I make my own choices, and being with you is one of them. So trust me when I say, my image is just fine."

Y/N felt a wave of gratitude wash over her, touched by Hongjoong's unwavering support. With a smile, she leaned into his touch, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence. "Thank you, Hongjoong," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

He returned her smile, his eyes soft with affection. "Anytime, Y/N. Now let's go show them what we're made of."

Hand in hand, they stepped into the world of fashion, ready to face whatever challenges came their way, together. As Hongjoong and Y/N stepped out of the car and made their way towards the entrance of the venue, they were immediately met with a flurry of flashing cameras and eager reporters.

"Hongjoong, who's the lucky lady you've brought with you tonight?" one of the reporters called out, his voice loud and persistent.

Y/N felt a surge of anxiety at the attention, but Hongjoong remained calm, his grip on her hand steady and reassuring. He turned to face the reporter with a smile, his demeanor composed yet friendly.

"This is Y/N, a dear friend," he replied, his voice carrying over the noise of the crowd. "She's here to experience the magic of fashion with me."

The reporters continued to fire questions at them, but Hongjoong skillfully deflected each one with ease, never once faltering under the pressure. Y/N couldn't help but admire his poise and grace in the face of such scrutiny.

As they finally made their way inside the venue, the chaos of the paparazzi faded into the background, replaced by the excitement and anticipation of the fashion show. Y/N glanced up at Hongjoong, gratitude shining in her eyes.

"Thank you for handling that," she said, her voice filled with sincerity.

Hongjoong smiled warmly, squeezing her hand gently. "Anytime. We're in this together."

With renewed confidence, they entered the venue, ready to enjoy the show and make memories together, no matter what challenges they might face along the way. Throughout the event, Hongjoong and Y/N stuck close together, weaving through the crowd as they admired the various displays and interacted with fellow attendees. Despite the occasional interruption from well-wishers and admirers, they remained focused on each other, their connection growing stronger with each passing moment.

Y/N couldn't help but be drawn to Hongjoong's passion for fashion, his eyes lighting up as he discussed the intricate details of each design and the creative vision behind them. His enthusiasm was contagious, and she found herself becoming more and more engrossed in the world of haute couture.

Throughout the event, Hongjoong's presence was a constant source of comfort and support for Y/N, his reassuring smile and encouraging words helping to calm her nerves and boost her confidence. Whether they were chatting with other guests, admiring the latest collections, or simply enjoying each other's company, their interactions were filled with warmth, laughter, and a growing sense of camaraderie.

As the night drew to a close and the last echoes of applause faded away, Hongjoong and Y/N found themselves outside the venue once more, the vibrant energy of the fashion show still lingering in the air around them.

With a contented sigh, Y/N turned to Hongjoong, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Thank you for inviting me to the show," she said, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. "I had an incredible time."

Hongjoong returned her smile, his eyes sparkling with warmth. "The pleasure was all mine," he replied, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity. "I'm glad you could join me. It wouldn't have been the same without you."

As they stood there, bathed in the soft glow of the streetlights, a sense of peace settled over them, their shared experiences and moments of connection weaving a bond between them that felt both comforting and exhilarating.

A few months later, the chill of autumn had settled over the city, bringing with it the vibrant colors of changing leaves and the crisp, invigorating air that heralded the approach of winter. Y/N found herself standing outside a cozy café, feeling a mixture of annoyance and impatience. She tapped her foot, glancing at her watch repeatedly as the minutes ticked by. Finally, with a sigh of frustration, she decided she had waited long enough. She turned on her heel and left the café, heading across the street.

Y/N walked with purpose, the path she took now ingrained in her memory from frequent visits over the past few months. After crossing the street and walking a few blocks, she took a left and entered one of the many tall buildings that adorned the strip. The lobby was bustling with activity, but Y/N moved through it with the confidence of someone who belonged.

Removing her sunglasses as she approached the elevators, she was momentarily stopped by Jisoo, a new employee at the building's reception desk. "Excuse me, Ma'am, you need to check.....oh," Jisoo's eyes widened with recognition. "My apologies, Miss L/N."

Y/N gave a curt nod and continued her route to the elevators. Once inside, she pressed the button for the floor she needed and leaned back against the wall, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves.

When the elevator doors opened, Y/N stepped out and walked down the hallway until she reached the familiar office door. Without hesitation, she knocked and waited for the response from within.

"Come in," called the voice from the other side.

Y/N entered the office, her eyes immediately finding Hongjoong behind his desk. He was currently on a call, his empty hand fiddling with a pen absentmindedly. When he looked up, a smile spreading across his face as he saw her. "Look why don't we discuss this later, I have an important client that just walked in..........Ok great, yeah just send me an email about it when you can." Hongjoong quickly hung up and walked towards her. 

"Hey sweetheart," He leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek, but she moved her face to dodge it. Hongjoong paused, noticing the tension in Y/N's expression. "What's wrong?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

Y/N crossed her arms, trying to keep her irritation in check. "You were supposed to meet me at the café. I waited for over half an hour."

Hongjoong's face softened with guilt. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I got caught up in a meeting and completely lost track of time."

She sighed, her frustration still simmering. "It's not just today, Hongjoong. You've been so busy lately that I feel like I'm always waiting around for you."

Hongjoong reached out gently taking her hand, laying a kiss to the back of them. "I know, and I promise I'm not trying to neglect you. Work has just been overwhelming, but that's no excuse. I'll do better, I swear."

Y/N looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. Her irritation began to ebb away, replaced by a mix of relief and lingering disappointment. "I just want to feel like a priority sometimes."

Hongjoong nodded, squeezing her hand gently. "You are a priority to me, Y/N. I'll make sure you know that from now on. How about we go out for lunch? Just the two of us. No interruptions. No Mr. Kim no Ms. Journalist, just Y/N and Hongjoong."

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. But you have to promise that work won't come first all the time."

"I promise," Hongjoong said firmly. "Now, let's go. I've been craving that little Italian place you like."

They left the office together, walking side by side as they made their way out of the building. The crisp autumn air greeted them, and Y/N felt some of the tension in her chest ease as they stepped into the street.

As they walked, Hongjoong slipped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "I really am sorry," he murmured. "I'll make it up to you."

Y/N leaned into him, appreciating the gesture. "I'll hold you to that," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

next story coming soon......

Thank you guys for enjoying the series, it means a lot to see so many people like the posts. If you want to join the taglist, please let me know.

Taglist: @scarfac3 @bts-army380 @ssrnghwa @philijack @laurenwidjaja

[ageofhearingloss]

Who Are You Now ⎮Danny Wagner x Reader

A/N: hey guys, i am sososooo excited to give y’all my very first fic that i’ve ever written :’) this is an ode to danny lane, but also a little morsel for jake lane as well (i wouldn’t be a janny girl if i didn’t do that now would i). i’m thinking that this will be four, maaaaybe five parts so please let me know what y’all think (but please be kind cause i am fragile as fuck) and if you’d be interested in reading the rest! (this story exists in a timeline where the boys aren't in the band aaaaand it will have 18+ content so minors DNI! go away please and thank you!)

also quick shoutout to real life bestie @joopsworld for being my editor-in-chief and urging me to start writing again in the first place! she also made this collage (all pics sourced from pinterest and insta) and it is just perfect. 

okay guys! hehe! thank you for giving me the courage to do this!

(here is part two!)

pairing: danny wagner x female reader, jake kiszka x female oc

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption and that’s pretty much it, this one is fluff! but just y'all wait, that’ll change ;)))) This series will contain 18+ content so minors, DNI! shoo shoo!

word count: ~7k heh sorry

summary: you and your best friend have just moved to a new city and spontaneously meet a group of handsome young strangers during a night out. you hit it off with one of them in particular, but are left wondering if you are just friends or if there’s something more on the horizon.

“Girl, you gotta hurry up,” you yelled as you pounded on the heavy plastic door of the porta-potty, “They flickered the lights, I think we’ve got, like, five minutes.” “I’m trying, don’t rush me!” Natalie replied, anxiety laced in her voice as you listened to her fumbling around. 

The two of you had been waiting for this concert for months, and it couldn’t have been a more perfect evening for it. It was a seasonably warm, autumn night in Nashville, the outdoor venue placed along the river, allowing the sounds of the water, the chirp of the crickets, and birds of the night to waft over the fellow concert-goers. The sun had just made its descent below the horizon, leaving the sky a beautiful purplish-pink hue while allowing the stars to begin their nightly dance. 

Removing your hand from the door, you glanced around to admire these things that have become commonplace in your new home. You and your best friend, Natalie, were still adjusting to your new residence. The two of you had gone to college together to study music, but when you found your careers coming to a standstill in your hometown, the move to Nashville seemed like the obvious decision to make. Being in a city surrounded by the constant swelling of music and supported by fellow artists inspired the two of you to no end; it was something that you’ve never experienced before, and you knew it was something you weren’t going to be letting go of any time soon.

You were completely dumbfounded by the fact that it was October and you weren’t on the look-out for the first blizzard of the winter. The thought of not having cleats on the bottom of your boots and a 20lb bag of salt in the back of your car was absolutely unheard of. Yes, you were a long way from your hometown in the snowy midwest, but you had never felt more at home. You allowed your eyes to close, listening to the evening sounds around you.

I can’t believe we actually made it here. 

Startled out of your daydreaming, Natalie yanked the door open, strolling past you while fanning her hands in the air to dry them. “Pushy,” she murmured, wearing an amused smile while she glanced at you from over her shoulder. Her eyes, the color of the river dancing next to you, were sparkling with excitement, her milk chocolate hair shining golden in the last remaining bits of sunlight. You sent a beaming smile back to her, bounding after her as she guided you back to your seats. 

The seats you had selected were right in the middle of the venue, not too close to the stage, but not in the nosebleeds, either. Content with the view, you relaxed into your seat, Natalie handing you the beer that you two somehow found the time to buy. You took the time to look around once again; taking in the details of the stage, doing your fair share of people watching, until you found the eyes of a man who seemed to have already been staring at you.

He was sitting at the other end of the section, only a couple rows ahead of you. Even from this far away, you could tell that his eyes were the color of deep caramel, almost burnt. You held his gaze for a few seconds, convinced that it wasn't you he was actually looking at, so you glanced around at the people sitting nearby. When you realized no one was looking in his direction, you moved your eyes back to him and found that he was still watching you, this time giving you a small smile accompanied with a slight nod as if to say, “Yes, you.”

You felt a poke on your knee. “You totally said something to me, didn’t you?” you mumbled, still looking at the stranger. Natalie laughed out, “Yeah, I said that I can’t believe we actually made it– what are you looking at?” You looked back at her, then glanced down at the man who was now preoccupied with speaking to his friends around him. She got the hint, nonchalantly looking towards where you had directed her. “Oh, he’s pretty,” she whispered, a shit-eating grin creeping upon her face. You nodded eagerly as you stared at her, the two of you bursting into a fit of laughter a moment later.  

She was right, he was pretty. Maybe even the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You took a second to gather in his features; you could tell he was tall even from sitting down; he had a muscular build, with deep brown, ringlet curls that swept over his shoulders and down his back. When you had met his eyes moments before, they were warm, kind, inviting. His smile was effortless, and even though he was extremely handsome, there was no hint of arrogance that came off him. 

Who is this guy?

You rolled your eyes at yourself, he’s just some random man. But you were eager to catch one more glimpse of him and as you looked in his direction, the lights dimmed all too quickly, signifying the show was about to start, and he’s lost to darkness.

The concert had been everything you hoped it’d be, and more. You and your friend had been speechless the second the show ended, and then flooded with excited comments all at once. She was your favorite person to see shows with; you both had a mutual love and admiration for live music, whether it be in an arena that seated thousands, or in someone’s backyard. Which was one of the driving factors as to why you moved to this music-filled city in the first place.

“By the way, I counted that guy looking at you six times tonight,” Natalie offered as she climbed the steps leaving your seats. “No, don’t tell me that!” You laughed back, heat flushing your face while you tried to hide the smile that threatened to break upon your mouth. “I’m being so for real, what if he’s at Mickey’s later?” She joked as she raised her eyebrows up and down before linking her arm in yours. 

“I gotta pee, and then we can head to the bar.” 

“Again?” 

“Hey, I had three beers! It’s not my fault you have a bladder of steel.” 

Waiting for her once more outside the porta-potty, you pulled out your phone and called an Uber to your favorite dive bar. The bar was nothing fancy; you and Natalie had made it a promise long ago to get skilled at playing pool, and this bar just so happened to be the perfect place for that. Slipping your phone back into your pocket, you watched the groups of people pass you by on their way out. 

You heard the door open just as you spotted him in the crowd, not surprised when you realized he was already glancing your way.

“How far away is the Uber?”

He gave you the same smile as before, and offered you a wave goodbye.

“Y/n?”

You didn’t hear her as you lifted your arm to give him a small wave back, to which he nodded in reply. You watched as he and his group made their way towards the exit of the park and into the night.

“Wait, did he come over here while I was in the bathroom?”

“Nonono, he just waved goodbye from over there,” You absently gestured towards his direction, eyes still strained on where he had just been.

“Yeah,” she snorted out a laugh. “I saw!”

You gave her a sarcastic smile, linking your arms together once more and before dragging her towards the exit. “C’mon, the car is only two minutes away.”

~~~~

Thanking the driver as you stepped out of the car and into the bustling streets of Nashville, the city was alive with more people and music than you were used to growing up. You and Natalie had found this bar one night in search of reprieve from the crowds, bouncers, and pricey cover charges, stumbling inside to find a hidden treasure trove, Mickey’s Tavern. The two of you had been regulars ever since. 

Walking through the threshold, one of the rotating bartenders recognized the two of you and got started on Natalie’s whiskey ginger and your gin and tonic without you having to say a word. 

“Ooooh the table is open, you wanna go grab it?” Pointing your thumb over your shoulder as you asked Natalie. She was already on it, leaving you to meander over to the bar to wait for your drinks. Thanking the bartender and leaving your tab open, you wandered over to the pool table, where Natalie already had two cue sticks, chalked and ready to go. 

“Are you sure those are the rules? I feel like that’s not right,” she brought her drink to her mouth, brows bunching together as she surveyed the pool table. 

You shot her a pure feline grin, “Yeah, Nat, I’m 100% positive. Didn’t you say you wanted me to teach you?” You did have a little more experience when it came to the game than she did, but you didn’t let on that you were feeding her bullshit rules in order to mess with her. 

“Well, yeah, but that rule contradicts everything you just said five minutes ago,” she muttered as you bent over the table, lining up your shot.

“That’s because she’s messing with you.”

Oh shit.

You paused at the unfamiliar voice coming from behind you.

You caught a quick glimpse at Nat as you straightened to stand up, and watched as her eyes widened with a smile already plastered to her face. Your breath caught as you turned on your heels and of course, standing right in front of you, was the handsome mystery man you’d been ogling over not even an hour ago.  

“Sorry to interrupt your game,” his eyes darted behind you to the table, “but were you two just at that show over on the river?” His voice was sweet, melodic, and matched the same warm, inviting demeanor that he presented to you at the concert.

This can’t be real.

Sensing that you had gone stiff with shock, Nat made her way to your side of the table while nodding and saying, “Yeah! You were sitting just a couple rows ahead of us, right?”

He smiled that effortless smile you’ve seen from him a few times now, and even though he was addressing your friend, he could not peel his eyes away from your stare. You began to notice the outfit he was wearing– it’s simple, but damn, was it effective. A loose, white button-down hung off his back, unbuttoned slightly to reveal the top of his chest and the obsidian pendant around his neck. He wore pristine black jeans that juxtaposed the white sneakers that looked like they’ve been to hell and back. Every article of clothing clung to his body as if they were handcrafted especially for him.

You were pulled back to reality as a hand clapped over the man's shoulder, presenting a shorter and equally handsome man with long, golden-brown hair. He presented a dashing, but secretive, smile, his eyes full of wisdom and swirling with cream and sugar. His tanned, smooth skin was on display underneath a black buttoned shirt, laying open nearly to his navel, with an ancient silver medallion dangling in the center of his chest. 

“And who do we have here?” His voice was husky, alluring, somehow matching the same glint in his eye.

Looking past him, you noticed two other men standing behind them, their attention pulled to the interaction you and Nat were having with the men in front of you. You quickly realized this is the group he was at the concert with. His friends.

The taller man turned slightly to face his companion who still had his hand on his shoulder, and smiled, “I haven’t gotten to that part yet.”

They all directed their attention back to you and your friend, Natalie effortlessly easing the tension with her warm personality, “I’m Natalie, and this is-” she placed a gentle hand on your back. “I’m Y/n,” you interrupted, not realizing that you had still been holding your breath. You hadn’t left those caramel eyes this whole time. Nat gave you a slight pat on your back for reassurance and finally, you felt a genuine smile grace your face, your eyes lighting up a bit and the anxiety finally vanishing from your body. Thank god for Natalie. “And you are…?” you offered to the men in front of you with a quirked eyebrow. 

“Oh right, I’m Daniel,” said your mystery concert man. “And these are my brothers, Jake,” he threw his arm around the shoulders of the long-haired man by his side, “Josh,” he gestured to the man who looked like Jake’s other half, who donned a head of wild, brown curls and gave you the most beautiful smile you had ever seen. Sunshine incarnate, you thought as Josh joined Jake's side. “And Sam,” he said as a lanky man, equally as tall as Daniel, bounded over to stand on the other side of the man doing the introductions. He looked like Josh and Jake combined; long, flowing hair just like Jake’s, but with an equally saccharine smile as Josh. He had a playful charm to him that put you further at ease. You looked between the four beautiful men, noting how Daniel was the only one who didn't look identical to the others. Sam, following your eyes, somehow knew exactly what you were thinking. He grasped Daniel’s arm and started shaking him slightly. “I know,” he grinned at you. “He’s the only one who didn’t get the Kiszka good looks.” He winked as Daniel shook his head, accompanied by a huffy laugh. The men before you presented an alluring, unified front, and you could tell that love flowed freely between the four of them and their bond with each other ran deep. You and Natalie were both grinning ear to ear as you finished exchanging greetings, the two of you shot a sideward glance at each other as if to say “Can you believe they’re all this gorgeous?” 

After shaking hands with the men, Josh proclaimed “We’re waiting for one more of our friends to join us, can we get you ladies a drink in the meantime?” 

“I think we’re all good for now,” you signaled to the drink in your hand, “but thanks, Josh!” You smiled sweetly to him, and he gave you a quick wink in confirmation before beckoning Sam to follow him to the bar. Left with Daniel and Jake in front of you, Jake lifted his chin in gesture to Nat’s drink, “what are you drinking?”

“Whiskey ginger,” she answered, blue eyes assessing him, bringing the glass to her lips.

“Aaah, a woman of taste,” He nodded contemplatively, earning him a smirk in return.

Oh, these two are gonna have some fun together.

You looked back to Daniel and could tell by how he was looking between Jake and Natalie that he agreed. 

Daniel’s attention then landed on the pool table behind you, “Would you mind if we joined you for a real game of pool? Jake here knows the rules pretty well,” throwing a smirk your way. “Not at all,” Nat said as she brought her cue stick up to gently swat your back, “I’ve gotta learn the real rules at some point.”

You laughed, “Hey, you gotta admit I had you going for a while!” Her eyes crinkled up in that smile you adored, throwing her head back as a laugh escaped her. 

Jake cut in, “I’m gonna be on Natalie’s team.” Daniel’s eyebrows lifted in question, Jake answering his friend, “What?” He began to walk around to the other side of the table, “Someone’s gotta show her some winning moves.” She made her way over to Jake, eyeing him up and down competitively, before playfully shoving his shoulder. The two of them shared a laugh, eyes burning into each other's with lustful amusement. 

“Looks like you’re with me,” you offered to Daniel, beaming, as he came to stand at your side. “Just don’t try to pull a fast one on me, too, y/n.” He grinned, his eyes sparkling.

Slowly, he bent to say softly in your ear, “I’ll bet you $5 they’ll go home together tonight.” You knew Nat like the back of your hand and you know how much she loves her own bed, but accepting the challenge, you offered your hand out to him. “Deal.”

He grasped it firmly, shaking it as his eyes seared into yours. 

~~~~

Those damned hands.

Watching him grip his cue stick, placing a hand on the side of the table, brushing the hair out of his face, it all made you nearly jump out of your skin. You were aware of every movement Daniel made, cursed to not look away in fear you might miss the tiniest detail. Noting how nimble his fingers were, how gracefully they skimmed the felt of the table, it told you just how skilled he must be with them- 

Focus on something else, y/n. 

It took pure willpower to pull you out of your flustered state, forcing yourself to look at the game table displayed in front of you. As Jake lined up a shot, you noticed how the game had progressed nicely; turned out you and Daniel made a great team, working strategically against your opponents, and Jake just so happened to be an excellent teacher, Natalie quickly grasping the rules and giving your team a run for your money. 

You listened intently to Jake and Natalie’s conversation– they were equally matched in wit and humor, and they seemed to hit it off exceptionally well. You even caught that Jake had called her “Nat” a couple of times. Funny, usually she doesn’t let that slide with strangers, you pondered, she must be in real deep. 

As your eyes bounced between the two of them, Daniel made his way to your side once again, his attention still on his brother's turn, but said to you,

“You don’t have to call me Daniel, I like Danny and Dan, too.”

You smiled as your brows knitted together in confusion, wondering how his comment was along the same train of thought you were just having. 

“Then why did you introduce yourself as Daniel?”

“Sam gets on my case about using my full name; he almost exclusively calls me Daniel.” He shrugged, “I guess I’ve gotten used to it.”

You peeled your gaze from the table to look at him, “I’m assuming his full name is Samuel, so why does he go by Sam?”

A Chesire grin crept upon his lips, “So you can imagine my frustration.”

Huffing out a laugh, you turned back to the table with a slight nod of your head.

“Dan it is, then.”

“BROTHERS!” Almost as if he were summoned, you heard Sam's voice boom over the atmosphere of the bar. You watched as he and Josh wove their way back to the table, Josh holding two drinks high above his head so they didn’t spill as he bumped into the people around him; it was impossible not to notice how much taller Sam was than his curly-headed counterpart, especially in this moment. Taking in the sight before him, Dan dropped his chin to his chest, chuckling, “Say the devil's name three times and he’ll appear.” He said it loud enough for Jake and Natalie to hear, the latter covering her mouth to mask her giggles.

“We come bearing refreshments!” Josh rejoiced as the two boys approached the pool table, and you took inventory of the drinks they handed to their brothers:

A glass of whiskey, neat, for Jake, and a Topo Chico seltzer for Dan. Sam was gripping a Corona bottle that had not one, not two, but three lime wedges floating in it, and Josh had already chugged the majority of his margarita. He noticed you watching him throw it back, and explained “Tequila is good for the soul” with a mischievous smirk. You couldn’t help but smile when you looked at Josh; he had a radiance that was undeniably unique and impossible to ignore.

Your attention moved back to check-in with your friend, but instead you found her preoccupied as Jake raised his glass to her. She mirrored his action and clinked her drink against his, neither of them relinquishing eye contact as they both took a sip of their amber liquids. Dan was also watching, and you weren’t surprised when he jabbed his elbow into your side lightly, wiggling his eyebrows to remind you of the bet you two made. 

Conversation was easy and enjoyable amongst this party of six. The pool game took a backseat while you all got to know each other; the men, you, and Natalie took turns volleying information back and forth about yourselves to the patient, waiting ears of the others. You could’ve guessed that Jake and Josh were twins, and were not surprised by the fact that Sammy Boy was their younger brother. You learned that Danny, in fact, wasn’t a Kiszka; he’s a Wagner. “We grew up together,” Josh explained, his empty glass chiming against the table as he set it down. “Jake was hell-bent on starting a band when we were barely teenagers, and we recruited Danny to play drums for us in our garage.” The four men exchanged knowing smiles as you inquired “And how did that go? The band?” “Well,” Dan cut in, “considering Jake is the only one who has a music career, I’d say it went pretty great.” He clapped his hand on Jake’s back, and you could have sworn you saw a hint of crimson color Jake’s cheeks. Nat noticed it too, her eyes saying to you, Isn’t he the sweetest thing? 

Beyond that, you learned that Jake was also an accomplished chef and had taught Sam everything he knew. Sam was in charge of manning the kitchen at a restaurant you and Natalie frequented, explaining to him that the restaurant had quickly become one of your favorites upon moving to this town. “I can’t believe I’ve never seen you! Who knew it’d be sweet, sweet Daniel who brought us together.”

Josh was a filmmaker, flying between Nashville, LA, and NYC regularly for work. He was animatedly talking with his hands while he explained the murder mystery he was currently shooting. He had all of you on the edges of your seats, dramatic tension hanging like dense fog in the air, when you all were interrupted by the abrupt change in song and volume, “Don’t Stop Believin’” by Journey roaring to life from the jukebox at the other end of the bar.

Mumblings erupted from the four boys; Jake shook his head defeatedly, “For fucks sake…” 

Sam shot straight up in the air to glare at the jukebox over the heads of the other patrons of the bar,  his eyes squinting on his target. Setting his Corona on the green felt, not caring if it tipped over, you all watched as he started his warpath into the crowd, hollering “DAVE!! DO YOU HAVE SOME SORT OF DEATH WISH?”

Josh’s shoulders shook with laughter as Dan turned to you and Natalie, explaining, “Dave, the friend we were waiting for. Also known for being an absolute menace on aux.”

~~~~

Dave and Sam had decided to join your game, after they stopped bickering over the music, of course. You found out that Dave was the one who had lived in Nashville the longest, and he was in a band of his own with his buddies Alex and Chris.

“We’re called “The Thing With Feathers,” if you wanna look us up.” He told you with a sideward smirk. “The thing with feathers…. Like Emily Dickinson?” Nat inquired. 

“Exactly like that.”

Dave was incredibly charming and charismatic, similar in energy to Sam but a hint more suave. You assumed their matching energy might be the reason as to why they bickered like they have been married for 50 years. He had a messy mop of brown hair, and wore a teal, silk top so stunning that you found yourself convincing him to tell you where it was from.

Dave joined your team with Dan (“Where you been, buddy? I’ve missed you!”), and Sam joined his brother and Natalie. Josh insisted on pulling up a bar stool and playing referee for your game that had somehow managed to go unfinished for a long while (“I can make any game interesting. Just you watch, y/n”). 

Your team was getting your asses handed to you, until finally Natalie claimed victory, sinking the 8-ball. Claps and cheers erupted from your group as she responded with a slight curtsey and bow of her head, grinning from ear to ear. You’re delighted as you watched Sam jump up and down, running to Nat to give her a double high-five. She was laughing up a storm as Jake threw an arm around her shoulder, a proud grin plastered to his face. “All thanks to my winning moves,” voice laced with a hint of sarcasm as he squeezed her shoulder a little tighter. Her eyes flickered with surprise for just a millisecond, before she wrapped her arm around his waist, hip-checking him, retorting “Hmm, I actually think it was beginners luck.”

It hit you suddenly that you had only met this group of men a little over an hour ago; you felt as though you’ve known them your whole life. You noticed how at ease you felt, how you could undeniably be yourself without feeling like you needed to win the others over. Your laughs, smiles, and teasing jokes came freely, and were received and reciprocated with joy and humor. It’s a welcome feeling, and you knew that you’d be chasing it for a while. Natalie met your eyes, still snug under Jake’s arm, and you could tell she felt similarly. The two of you had made a few friends since moving to Nashville, but most of your close ones still remained back in your hometown. You two have been dying to find a group to call your own, and these guys seemed like they’d be a perfect fit. You were just praying that tonight wasn’t a one time deal. 

“How about we get a victory round for our Pool Champ?” Josh asked, jumping off his stool and already heading in the direction of the bar. Everybody was celebrating as they followed Josh, you and Dan at the end of the train. He ushered you ahead of him, placing a gentle hand on the middle of your back, guiding you through the crowd. His touch was whisper soft, but his hand felt like a brand against your body, instantly lighting you up in a way that you’ve been fighting to acknowledge all night. 

Those damned hands. 

Huddled around the bar, you and Daniel were graced with the chance to speak one on one, Natalie involved with the twins about Jake’s music, Josh gushing over how talented his brother was and insisting that she had to hear him play his guitar. Sam and Dave were back over at the jukebox and you could vaguely hear Sam’s scolding and Dave’s boisterous laugh. 

You were eager to learn more about Dan- he was the only one who was still somewhat shrouded in mystery, but before you could begin asking him questions, he beat you to the punch.

“How far from here do you live?” Dan asked, bringing his drink to his lips until he halts, “Not– that sounded creepy. I swear I’m not a stalker.” He brought his drink back down with a nervous laugh, shaking his head side to side.

“No, no! I know what you meant. Nat and I are just about 15 minutes away from here.”

“Thank god,” he released a breath, fiddling with the tab on his drink can. “So I take it you come around here pretty often then?”

You gave him a sly grin, eyes squinting just a little bit as he stammered, “Just curious if I’ll see you here any time soon.”

You hadn’t seen him flustered at all tonight, but listening to him stumble over his words ignited that same flame inside you that now you’d need a firehouse to extinguish. 

“Yeah, this is our favorite bar, we come here all the time.”

He gave you a grateful smile, seeming to thank you for being gracious of his fumbling, and you returned it, trying to ease his nerves even the slightest bit more. 

“So you and Natalie live together? You seem like you’re really close, how did you meet?”

You regaled the tale of how you two went to college for music together, quickly becoming joined at the hip and inseparable ever since. You’ve been through hell and back together, and you’re honored to stand by her side. He listened intently, glancing between you and your friend with a smile that suggested he knew exactly the feeling you were describing. Once you were running out of things to say, he had an arsenal of questions ready to ask you about your studies, about the music you loved, everything, and you answered each of them with matching enthusiasm. 

In a breath of silence, you were able to ask, “So how about you and your brothers? Seems like it’s more than just playing together in the garage.” You were happy to have the spotlight shift back to him if it meant that you got to glean a little more information out of your mystery man.

“We’re from a tiny town in Michigan, and we really only had each other. Just like you and Natalie, we’ve been inseparable ever since we were little. I dunno,” he ran his fingers through his hair, “we rely on each other.” 

You sat your glass down as you looked between the brothers, and knew that he was telling the truth. You felt it, saw it, immediately when they introduced themselves to you. 

“I know about all the others, but what do you do–”

Suddenly, Sam and Dave were behind him, Sam hauling him out of his stool with a “Sorry, y/n! I need him to help settle a score between me and Idiot over here!” The two of them dragged Dan back over to the jukebox, him gracing you with an apologetic smile as you chuckled to yourself. Brothers, indeed.

You joined Natalie and the twins, eagerly listening to their conversation unfold, bouncing between Josh’s movies, Jake’s music, and their questions about Natalie’s career. Eventually, Sam, Dave, and Daniel made their way back to the group, and the seven of you indulged in one last drink, hearing stories about their lives and loving every second of it. Dave had everybody in stitches talking about his time on tour with the band; you truly couldn’t remember the last time your stomach ached so badly from laughter.  

You sat back, admiring how Dan interacted with not only his friends, but how he spoke to Natalie. He had a witty and dry sense of humor, but was the most soft spoken and gentle one of the group; you’d previously thought that it was Jake, but you were proven incredibly wrong once that man had a few drinks in him. You’ve always been content to be a fly on the wall- observing how others interact and listening to the words exchanged around you was always something that brought you comfort. With this group, it was impossible to be bored. 

But you were happy to let them pull you out of your head and back to the conversation, and Dan insisted that they had to hear stories from your college days with Nat. She enthusiastically agreed, and hopped off her stool to stand behind yours, leaning down to hug your shoulders from behind. “You guys have GOT to hear about how y/n passed out on the side of the road on Halloween!” And with that, she had their undivided attention for at least the next half hour. 

~~~~

Drinks had long been emptied, and you and Nat had agreed that it was time for you to get some shut eye; sorry to break up such a jolly group, but the night had turned to the wee hours of the morning, much later than you two were used to staying out. Nat pulled her coat from the back of her stool and smoothed her dress. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom, I’ll call the–” “I know the drill, don’t worry.” You winked back to her. Once she disappeared to the bathroom, you watched the boys start making their way to the door, agreeing with you that it was time to call it a night. You called over to the bartender to close your tab, and once he made his way over to you with your receipt, Jake appeared behind you, placing his card down on the bar.

You looked up, “Jake, you don’t have-”

He held his hand up to stop you from talking.

“I want to, plus I owe it to her.” His eyes twinkled. You could tell he cared for Natalie even in the short amount of time they’ve gotten to know each other. You couldn’t imagine there being any ill-will behind those eyes, but what kind of friend would you be if you still didn’t give him a warning?

“Just please don’t be an asshole to her, okay? I think she really likes you.”

He was signing the receipt as his head snapped up to look at you, a sheepish smile already evident on his face, eyes wide and sparkling, “Really?”

You couldn't help but giggle at his enthusiasm, and you nodded your assurance.

“The same goes for you and Danny. He has a big heart. Be careful with him.” He slid the pen and paper back over the bar and gave you one last mischievous show of his teeth before you two sauntered over to the front door to join the rest of his band of brothers.

Natalie returned a beat later, informing you that your car home was still a little ways away. The boys insisted on staying with you until then, and you didn’t mind if it meant you had a few more moments to share with them. Dan has made his way to your side again but you noticed him shifting his weight between each foot, something you would chalk up to a nervous habit. Your gaze naturally found his, and the man was every shade of flustered as he watched you with an unsure grin. Carefully, he finally leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Looks like I owe you $5.” 

You grinned at him, opening your mouth to tell him to save it, when he interrupted you with, “Hold that thought,” and briskly slipped away back over to the bar. Confused, you watched his head of curls ask the bartender for something, the bartender placing a Sharpie in his outstretched palm a second later. He turned to walk back to your group, his teeth bared in a smile that could have shot you straight to the heavens. He painted a picture of collected calm, worlds different from how he looked moments earlier. He returned to your side, grabbing your hand without hesitation, and held it in his as he lifted it up. Sharpie in the other, he proceeded to write his phone number on the back of your hand, and the gesture had everyone halt their conversations to turn their attention to the two of you. You couldn’t help but blush at his action; no one had ever done that to you before, not to mention it being a little outdated. Josh seemed to agree, exclaiming “Woooooo! Look at you go, Grandpa!” Dan shot him a glare out of the corner of his eye while quickly finishing up his writing. You chanced a quick look over at Natalie to see that her jaw was on the floor as she watched this event unfold, eyes darting between your hand and your face as your eyes widened, trying to say to her I know, I can’t believe it either! You peeled your attention away from Nat as he let go of your hand gently and replaced the cap on the Sharpie, finally looking back into your eyes. His demeanor was filled with confidence and laced with excitement. 

“Text me right now so I have your number, too.”

You chuckled, “Shouldn’t you just have asked me for my number?”

His smile turned cheeky, his gaze darkening just a hint, “Yeah, but I only thought of that after I started writing.”

The two of you shared a genuine laugh now.

“I like this much better anyways,” you said as you pulled your phone out of your pocket, Daniel intently watching your every move.

“There,” you said with a wink after pressing send, “Now we can arrange my payment.”

The Uber pulled up to the bar then, initiating the goodbyes between you and your new friends. For whatever reason, it shocked you that they each brought you in for a hug, Josh leading with a “Hope to see you soon, mama.” Dave crushed you in a side-hug that you swore could have left a bruise, and even Jake offered you a surprisingly larger bear hug than his smaller frame would suggest he was capable of. Sam damn near swept you off your feet, grasping you so tightly that you were winded when he released you from his vise-like embrace.

Dan was the last one to scoop you into his arms, his hands ghosting over your lower back ever so softly, but his hold on you was firm. His scent was all-consuming; musky, laced with bits of cedarwood, tobacco, and vanilla. He released you with a slight hesitation of a hand on your back, his fingers gripping the fabric on the back of your shirt as you turned towards the car, as if to say that he didn’t want you to leave so soon. Knowing the feeling, you threw an understanding glance over your shoulder as you made your way to the car, hoping to convey that you wished you could stay with him, too. 

Your breath hitched as you watched him go completely still in response, eyes darkening even further than they had been minutes ago. The look that he gave you was one you could not place and hadn’t seen yet from him that night. It made you want to turn on your heel and run straight back to his side, almost as if he were beckoning you back to him. It seemed as though the world had vanished around you, lights dimming, noises silencing aside from your heart thundering in your ears, and all you could see was him and that damn look on his face.

Remember, y/n, you literally met this man, like, three hours ago? Calm down. 

Finally, you blinked, and the world started coming back to life. You hadn’t noticed that you had frozen in your tracks, too, that look of his slamming your composure right out of you. It took every ounce of willpower to look away, and you could feel the heat on your cheeks begin to rise as you realized that the rest of the men were staring at you, and then turned back to the car to see Natalie already inside, watching you expectantly. Gathering the shred of dignity you felt you still had left, you threw the guys another quick wave goodbye before hurriedly sliding into the car and slamming the door behind you. 

Only then were you able to catch your breath.

Settling into the worn leather of the backseat, you felt Natalie pat your knee. 

“I can’t believe how much fun that was,” she let out with a tired sigh. 

You were sure she could hear your heart threatening to beat out of your chest.

“I know, I haven’t met a group of guys genuinely that nice maybe ever?” 

“I know! Not creepy at all! Must be some kind of miracle.” 

There was a breath of comfortable silence, Nat giving you a moment to calm down and collect your thoughts. 

“And I can’t believe they’re the guys from the concert, and that you have his number? Unbelievable.” She continued after a few minutes.

“The universe works in crazy, mysterious ways.”

Just then, your phone vibrated. Opening it, a smile started creeping wide across your face.

Daniel: I was thinking that I could use those $5 to buy you coffee, say on Saturday. What do you think?

Y/n: sounds like a good use of your money, i’m in! 

“Looks like I have a date on Saturday,” you said without looking up.

“Ha! I knew it wouldn’t take long, that man’s fast. Plus the way he looked at you when we were leaving? Forget about it.”

Your phone buzzed again.

Daniel: Great! I’ll send you the details tomorrow. It was a pleasure to meet you tonight. Goodnight, y/n.

Y/n: you too, dan, goodnight 

You set your phone down in your lap, still smiling to yourself thinking about the man who had come so swiftly into your life. Looking out the window, you watched the city put itself to sleep as the car sped towards your apartment. You blindly reached over for Nat's hand, and once you felt hers in your grasp, you gave it a quick squeeze. You sighed back into the seat as you slowly shut your eyes, feeling ever grateful that you took this leap of faith. 

To be continued…

[ppersonna]

swipe right - jjk | m

“ i wanna ruin our friendship. we should be lovers instead. i don't know how to say this, cause you're really my dearest friend “ - jenny, studio killers

♡ summary-  after a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?

♡ genre- best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, jk is a minecraft streamer, brother namjoon, brother-in-law jimin, namjoon is kind of a himbo stay at home dad ngl, ex-boyfriend seokjin (mentioned but doesnt show up)

♡ word count- 9k

♡ warnings- mentions of a bad breakup (smh seokjin wtf??), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (u know the business folx), oral sex (m receiving), teasing, SO MUCH BODY WORSHIP, jk is a simp, slight dirty talk, lots of just talking during sex yall it happens, creampie, cum play, praise praise body worship praise, did i mention body worship, tit-fucking, cum eating, i think thats all.

♡ a/n - helloooo and thank you for your wait for this fic! i’m so happy its done and i loved writing it! it’s a little bit different feel for my usual style of writing (smut-wise) so please tell me your thoughts! i didn’t use dom/sub themes OR a daddy kink LMAOOOO praise me please. i hope you enjoy!! pls feel free to comment, chat, message, carrier pigeon, email, mail, WHATEVER U WANT, me. i love u babies. thank you to @kimtaehyunq​ for the sexy banner. and for @xjoonchildx @ladyartemesia​ @untaemedqueen​ for the writing support and idea generation. i would be nothing without my council. and thank you to my beta editors @hobi-gif and @ughseoks​ and @hongism​ for the perusal and help in writing this!

Jungkook is the person you call when your world falls apart.

He answers, voice raspy from the late hour, and the second he asks you what’s wrong, the downpour of torrential tears you’ve been holding back finally escapes and you’re sobbing through the phone that you just lost the love of your life—that he left and with little effort on his part, and a lot on yours.

Jungkook listens to you—his heart aching deep in his chest at hearing the utter heartbreak that’s clear in your voice. You’ve never been hurt like this, and he’s desperate to hold you, to make it go away. He wants to drive over to Seokjin’s house and throw a left hook into his stupid, handsome face for making you feel you weren’t worth it.

Because if there’s anything in the world that Jungkook knows, it’s that you’re worth it. You’re worth everything. Add up all the money and all the gold in the entire world, and it still doesn’t meet a fraction of what you’re worth to him.

“Where are you?” He asks as he cradles the phone against one arm and pulls on his jeans.  

You sniffle. “Jungkook, it’s 3 am.”

“So? I was up playing Minecraft,” He lies. “Where are you?”

You can’t help but laugh the tiniest bit, a sliver of warmth wrapping itself around your raw and exposed heart. Like a balm to a flesh wound. It doesn’t heal it, not yet.

“I’m at our park.”

Jungkook smiles as he grips the phone back in his hand. The park. The place you and Jungkook spent your childhood playing make-believe games, and formative teenage years loitering around smoking clove cigarettes to look cool.

“Give me five minutes, okay?”

You nod, even though he can’t see you. 

“Okay.”

Jungkook arrives with two minutes to spare. His beat up Nissan that he insists is “vintage” and “priceless” idles next to you.

He can see you through the darkened glass of your car—your mascara is running down your face, tears streaked through your flawlessly applied makeup.

You still look so beautiful.

And it angers Jungkook that all that time you spent looking good for Seokjin meant nothing to him.

He motions for you to come over, pats the passenger seat next to him and smiles as he watches you open the door and slide into the security of his familiar car.

“You cleaned your car,” you murmur as you notice a severe lack of McDonald’s trash.

He sniffs haughtily. 

“The trash added character.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to respond. Instead, he’s unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling you as close to him as he can get you. The instant his arms wrap around your body, the floodgates open again and your once-quieted tears turn back into full-fledged sobs.

“I loved him,” you gasp through the pain in your throat.

He rubs your back, pats your hair gently, soothing you the way he has for years now. Through every breakup, through every family fight with your older brother Namjoon, through all the mean girls in high school. Jungkook is the north star—always consistent, always guiding you back to safety.

“I know, babe,” he sighs. “You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right, who’s not just going to give up when things get hard.”

You choke back a cry against his Patagonia hoodie and bury your face further into the crook of his neck. He smells like Old Spice and the shampoo he uses, along with the smell of laundry soap you buy for him—he uses dish soap when he runs out and nearly broke his washing machine last time.

“I thought he was the one. I’m so stupid.”

Jungkook swallows hard. Tonight is about comforting you, not about feeling sorry for himself that you’re his best friend and not his girlfriend. He can’t help but think of what kind of life he would give you. He knows it’s one that wouldn’t end with you crying in a parking lot at 3 AM.

“You’re not stupid, you just loved him. And there’s nothing stupid about loving someone, even if it doesn’t work out,” he sighs as he cradles your head against him. It feels right having you there, pressed up against him and seeking comfort from the solace of his arms.

“Let’s go get a milkshake, yeah?” He asks as you pull your head up and look at him with sad, glassy eyes.

“Yeah,” you nod after a moment of staring.

Jungkook’s eyes sparkle with love, with hope. It makes the desperate, alone feeling inside you—disappear. Jungkook presses a soft kiss to your forehead and then starts the shaky ignition of his car, that takes three cranks of the key before it turns over.

He sends you a look, a laugh evident on your face.

“Don’t even start,” he warns. “The engine is fine.”

“Whatever you say,” you snort as you wipe an errant tear from your face.  

“It’s a certified classic car! I could get millions for this baby!”

As the weeks pass, the pain of losing Seokjin becomes further and further from your mind. You can get through the day without crying anytime you see something that reminds you of him and even start flirting with others without feeling like you’re cheating.

You just still haven’t reached the point where dating someone else even feels possible. You’re terrified of allowing someone close to you, letting them into a place where you’re inviting them to possibly hurt you. You’re not sure your heart is ready for it. 

“I think you’re just scared,” your older brother Namjoon states as he warms up a bottle of milk in boiling water. 

He cradles his new baby in one arm while the other works at the bottle of milk. 

“I’m not scared,” you huff. “I just don’t think it’s the right time.” 

Namjoon sighs and hands the gurgling newborn baby off to you and readies the bottle for you to feed your new niece, Jisoo. 

“Look, Seokjin sucks, okay? I know you two were together for some time, but in the end, he wasn’t the right one for you. There’s someone out there who is the right one for you. You know how many shit frogs I had to kiss before I got my prince?” 

You make a face as you feed Jisoo, who happily sucks and gazes at the lights above. 

“You call Jimin a prince?” 

Namjoon sighs dreamily as he watches the baby and thinks of his husband. 

“The dreamiest prince,” he breathes, eyes closed in bliss. “But back to your problems. I think you should get back out there. Go on some dates, meet some people. No one is telling you to fall in love and get married tomorrow. Just go have some fun.” 

You allow Namjoon’s words to mull through your mind. What could be the harm in joining a few dating sites, perhaps spending some time at the gym or grocery store flirting with someone cute?

“Fine,” you say. “I’ll think about it.” 

“Good. I can’t be the only one giving our parents grand-babies. Soo needs a cousin.” 

You smile down at the tiny bundle in your arms and imagine a future where you have a baby of your own. 

“Okay, I’m not trying to get knocked up, Joon.” 

“Whatever,” he sighs. “Help me choose a wall color for me and Jimin’s new master bathroom.” 

Tinder’s changed since the last time you used it, years ago. It’s gone from any semblance of dating to strictly an app used to get laid. 

It’s discouraging swiping through all the obvious fuckboys. Sure, a quick and easy lay sounds great, but you’re also trying to go out and enjoy real, traditional dates, and it seems none of these guys want to step foot outside of a bedroom. 

The swiping left becomes almost monotonous. You’re sitting on your couch, watching some documentary about serial killers, when a startling profile pops up on your Tinder feed. 

The picture that pops up is... Jungkook. You can’t stop the bubble of laughter that leaps from your chest. His profile is so authentically Jungkook that you’re swiping right before you even know it. 

Your brain doesn’t even comprehend what a match with Jungkook means, really. You’re still laughing as you click on the bubble to message him and send him as many laugh emojis as you can. 

“Hey guys, what’s up, Kookie here with another Let’s Play Minecraft video for ya. Be sure to like and subscribe if you enjoy this kind of content.”

Jungkook’s headset is firmly wrapped around his head, mic next to his mouth and hands at the ready on his mouse and keyboard. He’s set and in the zone. 

The game is well into play when the familiar chime of his phone goes off. It’s a Tinder notification—he can tell by the sound. He can’t help but roll his eyes, wondering what sort of boring conversation he’s meant to have with a girl who will probably ghost him, anyway. 

He lazily lifts his phone and glances at the notification, before dropping it back to the desk. 

His hand freezes on his mouse as he finally comprehends what he just read. 

He just matched with YOU. 

His best friend. 

His secret, lifelong crush. 

He sputters something into the microphone and stops recording his game, wildly grasping for the phone and unlocking it. 

YN: 😂😂😂😂 is your bio a Minecraft pickup line?!

He pauses, attempts to collect his thoughts, before desperately typing on his screen. 

JUNGKOOK: Why? 😉😏 did it work?

You spend the rest of your night jokingly flirting with Jungkook, sending GIFs and emojis in between the silly lines you’re using on each other. 

Right before you’re about to head to sleep, Jungkook sends one last message. 

JUNGKOOK: What if we went on a date lolol. Haha jk. Unless?? 👀👀👀

Your thumbs hover over the keys to your phone. 

A date with Jungkook? Even though you matched with him, you’ve never thought of a date with your childhood best friend. 

YN: alright, it’s only fair since we matched 😝 show me how you treat these tinder ladies

“I have a date with Jungkook tonight,” you tell your brother, Namjoon, over the phone. 

Over the crying of your newborn niece, you hear Namjoon splutter in confusion. 

“You what!?” He nearly screams. “Jeon Jungkook? Like... the annoying kid you’ve been friends with since fourth grade?”

You huff. 

“He’s not annoying! He’s my best friend. We ironically matched on Tinder and… Well, why the fuck not? Nothing serious is going to happen. We’ll go out and have a story to tell about how incompatible we are.”

Namjoon doesn’t reply. Instead, you hear him speak to his husband. 

“She’s going on a date with Jungkook,” he says over the muffle of his hand on the receiver.

There’s a shuffle, and the dulcet voice of your brother-in-law, Jimin, comes over the line. 

“Girl,” he starts. “What the fuck?”

You chuckle as you move about your closet, trying to decide what’s appropriate to wear on a date with your best friend. 

“It’s nothing!” 

“Mm-hmm,” Jimin tuts. “You know the boy is in love with you.” 

“Okay, Chim, you’ve been spending too much time cooped up with my brother. It’s affecting your grip on reality.”

“Sure, honey. I just tell it like it is. Don’t break his heart.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I won’t break his heart because there’s nothing there, Jimin.”

“I’ll be expecting your call later.”

“Yes, dad. Love you guys.”

“We love you too, sweetheart. But really, don’t break that poor boy’s heart.”

You open your mouth to retort yet another reassurance that there’s nothing to break, but the line goes dead.

“Fucking Jimin,” you mutter as you throw your phone to the bed.

You can’t allow yourself to think that Jungkook might have feelings for you. It’s totally out of the questions. He’s your best friend. The guy who shoves Cheetos up his nose to make you laugh and falls asleep during every movie night with his face in the popcorn bowl. He’s just Jungkook. This date is just a funny way to hang out.

So, why do you care so much about what you wear?

You’re still standing in front of your closet, attempting to find something respectable to wear. It doesn’t matter that the last time Jungkook saw you; it was with mascara streaming down your face and a hoodie from Namjoon’s college swimming days and ripped leggings. Jungkook has seen you in nearly everything you wear, so your indecisiveness gives you pause.

Do you want Jungkook to be attracted to you? Do you want to do your best to look as presentable as you would for a normal date?

The thudding of your heart tells you that maybe you’re more interested in this being a date than you’re allowing yourself to believe.

You shake all thoughts off. 

No, you won’t allow yourself to overthink a night that should just be fun.

You settle for a fitted and simple summer dress, tights and heels. Simple, easy, respectable but also showing enough cleavage and sculpt of your ass to ensure you look more dressed up than not.

Perfect.

With one last look in the mirror, you’re ready.

JUNGKOOK: I’m outside!

ME: See you soon!

Jungkook taps his foot anxiously as he sits on the bench outside your apartment. His tight black jeans feel like a second skin on his legs, and the black button-down shirt he’s tucked in makes him rethink his choice of outfit.

Is he too casual?

He’s never really worn something like this around you. This is what Jungkook wears when he wants to seduce. This is what every girl he’s desperately wished was you got to see. The girls who swooned over his messy hair, the way his jeans display his toned thighs, the peek of skin at his throat.

Maybe it’s too much.

Maybe he’s afraid he’ll scare you away.

Maybe he’s afraid you won’t like it.

He’s given no chance to ruminate anymore because you’re exiting the building and walking straight towards him.

He doesn’t think he remembers how to breathe.

It’s as if you walk towards him in slow motion. Angels chorus around him and the setting sun sparkles on your face like a spotlight. There’s nothing in the world anymore, nothing but you.

You’re the most beautiful human he’s ever seen in his life.

“Hi,” you smile as you approach him.

He continues to stare, eyes traveling over the soft curves of your cheeks and jaw, trailing down to the way your dress clings just right to each dip of your body. His throat goes dry.

You are without a doubt the girl of his dreams. 

“Jungkook?”

It pushes him out of his reverie, eyes widening as he realizes he’s been staring at you for maybe a few minutes too long to play off as normal.

“Hey!” He coughs, attempting to right himself.

“You okay?” You ask, eyebrow lifted in concern.

“Yeah! Yup! Totally! I’m okay—a-okay, absolutely great.” He internally slaps himself.

“You clean up nice,” you smile as your eyes elevate up and down the lean form of his body.

“Oh?” He asks, taken aback. 

In his daze, he never even realized what you’re thinking about him, rather only how intensely he was thinking about you.

“This must be the Jungkook that all the girls in college couldn’t stop begging me to hook them up with.”

His cheeks flame with sudden embarrassment, hand moving to the back of his neck to rub it awkwardly. 

“Ha, yeah,” he swallows. “You look r-really nice too. I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress since your brother’s wedding.”

The smile that he’s rewarded with nearly knocks him on his ass. “Thanks! It’s fun to dress up cute again. Jin hated this dress.”

A stab of pain eeks its way into Jungkook’s heart. Seokjin. God, how he hates that man.

“Well, uh, you can wear whatever you want with me!” He assures. 

You loop your arm around Jungkook’s, saddling up to his side as you look at him expectantly.

“Well, are we going?”

Jungkook can’t help but smile at the sparkle in your eye, the way you peer up at him with those soft, cherry lips. He wants to capture them with his own, kiss you until you don’t remember Seokjin’s name ever again.

But he resists.

“Let’s go!”

You never thought you’d admit it to yourself. You never even thought it could happen. 

But the date is everything you’ve ever wanted, and more. 

Jungkook is still Jungkook, still just as silly and easy to talk to as he always is. 

But he’s also charming. Flirtatious, even. He holds doors open for you; he rests his hand on the small of your back as he guides you towards your table at dinner. He feeds you bites of his dessert and lets his eyes linger on the way your lips look wrapped around his fork. 

Jungkook treats you the way you’ve always wanted to be treated. Like someone he wants to cherish for the rest of your combined lives. Someone he wants to take care of, build a future with, enjoy life with.

And as much as it thrills you, it absolutely frightens you. 

It’s when you’re walking down the small river trail together that Jungkook slips his hand into yours and laces your fingers together. The once-steady beat of your heart becomes erratic. He continues chatting—as if holding your hand was a subconscious act for him. He’s knee deep in a story of his Minecraft server when you stop walking, causing him to pause. 

“What’s up?” He asks curiously. 

Your eyes glitter with anticipation, with fear, as you stare at the gorgeous man before you. He looks like a full course meal in his tight jeans and he makes you feel like a princess. You can suddenly see doing life by his side—no longer his platonic best friend, but as his lover and lifelong partner. 

You say nothing. Instead, you simply close the space between you two by grabbing the buttons of his shirt and tugging his lips onto yours. 

“Wha—oh, mmmmmm.”

Jungkook is still for a second as he battles the surprise, but jumps into action and cups your face with his hands, deepening the kiss by pushing his tongue past your lips and swirling it around your own. 

Your bodies press close together. He can feel your breasts against his chest and he desperately wants to rip the dress off your body and worship you like he’s always wanted to. 

As soon as the kiss started, it’s over. You’re pulling away with eyes wide with fear.

“I’m sorry, I—I need to go,” you stammer awkwardly.

Jungkook’s heart drops to his stomach.

“What? We were going to get ice cream?”

You can feel tears building in the corners of your eyes. You’re so confused, so unsure of what you’re feeling. You want to stay and kiss Jungkook until you’re clawing at the clothing on his body, pressing kisses to the firm column of his neck. You want to run far away, too scared to admit it to him you’re sure you could love him for the rest of his life.

You can’t lose that friendship. You can’t risk everything you love about Jungkook. He’ll only hurt you the way every boyfriend ever has.

“I don’t really feel well,” you swallow hard as you lie. Jungkook always knows when you’re lying.

His body stiffens.

“Okay, let me walk you home.”

You shake your head, already moving away from the man.

“It’s fine. We’re nearby. I’ll just run or something.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you’ve already turned face and started running the direction away from him.

Jungkook watches, misty-eyed, as the girl of his dreams runs further and further away from him.

You’re sobbing as you finally reach home, out of breath and confused. The phone call to Namjoon is quick.

“Yo,” he says cooly as he answers the phone. His tone changes when he hears your whimpering sobs on the other end.

“Joonie,” you whisper. “I fucked up.”

“Oh god,” Namjoon quickly shuffles and calls his husband over, before putting the phone on speaker.

“What’s happened, baby?” Jimin’s sweet voice asks.

“I—I kissed him,” you sob, holding yourself close in the comfort of the elevator. 

Namjoon and Jimin look at each other with knowing looks.

“We’re on our way over.”

Jimin knows the first order of business is to stop the crying. He places sleeping baby Jisoo in your arms, which quiets your whimpers enough as you cling to the tiny baby. He knows your weakness is sleeping babies.

Namjoon looks on anxiously, hates seeing his little sister upset and with no way to make it better.

Jimin’s been asked to take the lead on this, because he knows his husband's response is to cry as well—he gets emotional anytime he sees her cry. Namjoon agreed, knowing Jimin was better suited for the conversation.

“Tell us what happened,” Jimin asks quietly. You’re rocking the baby gently, sobs turned to sniffles. “Did something go wrong on the date?”

Your eyes peer up at your brother-in-law’s, a wounded look that makes Jimin feel sad. Namjoon clenches beside him, and Jimin lays a hand on his lap to soothe the protective brother.

“No,” you whisper. “That’s the thing. It was an amazing date.”

Jimin watches you curiously, but remains silent to let you continue.

“We had dinner, and we played arcade games and we walked around. And he was so… fuck, he was perfect. It was like dating the guy of my dreams.”

Jimin nods knowingly.

“And it surprised you how much you liked him.”

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “At the end, he was holding my hand and just talking about normal, stupid Jungkook shit, but this time it felt like more. Like, I felt in my heart that I wanted to be the one he always talked to about it. I wanted to be the one he came home to at night.”

Jimin pats your cheek lovingly, the care for his sister-in-law clear in his gaze. 

“You don’t just like him, honey. I think you might even love him.”  

You pull baby Jisoo tighter into your grasp and nod, pathetic tears slipping down your face. 

“I just left him. Like, I ran away from him like an asshole.”

Namjoon grunts and takes a spot next to Jimin. “If he loves you, which I’m sure he does, he’ll still be waiting for you.”

Jimin nods and rests a hand on his husband's back. “But you better have one hell of an apology.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer your phone calls. He doesn’t respond to your texts, snapchats or Instagram DM’s. He doesn’t even look at the TikToks you sent him! It’s becoming infuriating to get in touch with him.

You take matters into your own hands and storm to his apartment after work, the rising tension in your shoulders and stomach full of rocks an indicator of your anxiety about the future of this relationship.

Jungkook opens the door wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats. All the carefully crafted words exit your mind at light 

speed and you’re left gasping, wide-eyed at the chiseled body of your best friend.

“Can I help you?” He asks, tone flat.

Ouch.

You push past him into the apartment you know so well. “Yeah, you could start by answering your phone.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and closes the door, then heads back towards the large gaming setup in the living room.

“My apologies for not responding to the girl who literally ran away from me on a date.”

Your cheeks heat uncomfortably as you stand in the center of his living room, arms crossed over your chest. 

“Jungkook, listen. I’m—”

“Please,” he shakes his head as he sits down at the impressive gaming chair. “Save the apologies. I get it.”

“You don’t get it!” You say, exasperated. “You don’t get any of it! That’s why I’m here.”

Jungkook narrows a look at you then stands from his chair. Slowly, he makes his way towards you and stands inches from your face. The proximity of his bare, toned chest to your body makes your throat dry.

“No, you don’t get it.” His voice is threateningly quiet, completely different from his usual chipper tone. 

“Jungkook, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He quirks his head sarcastically, and you’re struck by the sharp lines of his jaw. “Sorry for running away from the date? Sorry for going on a date? Sorry for making me feel like I had a fucking chance when you kissed me?”

You swallow hard and open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry too. For giving myself way too much hope that this could ever be something. I’m sorry for myself for thinking you’d at least respect me enough to reject me politely.”

“You always had a chance!” You can feel tears building in your eyes and Jungkook feels his heart pound in his chest like a drum.

He scoffs, a harsh and mirthless laugh. “Clearly not.”

“I just—,” you start. “I never saw you like that before and suddenly you became everything I’ve ever dreamed of. It was like getting hit by a train, Kook! Suddenly my best friend turned into the man of my dreams.”

He shakes his head, stepping back away from you.

“I really find it hard to believe you,” he whispers. “I can’t let myself hope.”

“Jungkook, please,” you beg as tears start slipping down your face. “Please believe me.”

“Just leave,” he sighs. “I hate making you cry.”

You want so badly to wrap yourself in his arms, cry into his chest like you always do when you’re hurt. But you stand still, frozen in your shame and embarrassment of hurting your best friend so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, before you spin around as quickly as you can and leave Jungkook’s apartment in a flurry.

He watches as the door slams behind you, eyes full of sadness and regret. As much as he wants to believe you, have faith in every word you said, he can’t allow himself to get his hopes up again.

He can’t watch you run away from him again.

“Welcome back to Kookie’s Wild Weekly Walkthrough!” Jungkook cheers as enthusiastically as he can through his microphone. “The weekly segment where I react to your Minecraft worlds!”

Jungkook needed to dive back into streaming to take his mind off of you. He hasn’t left his apartment in days, only subsisting on takeout and coffee. At least he was making more money and his subscribers didn’t seem to mind the up-tick in content.

“Tonight I’ll be walking through a creation sent by,” he squints at the username. “‘Kookiesgal95’ Aww that’s cute.”  

He readies the content and starts his camera as he watches the YouTube link. His subscribers love his reaction videos—it’s a highly requested segment.

The video starts off easily, a generic Minecraft world that looks like a park.

“Hi Kook.”

The voice that reverberates through his headphones makes him pause the video quickly, wide-eyed with recognition.

It’s you. He’d know that voice from a million others. 

Shit. He’s going to have to edit so much of this clip. He’s staring at the screen as if he’s just seen a ghost.

Unsteadily, he clicks play again and watches as you lead him through your Minecraft creation.

“I wanted to recreate something for someone very special in my life.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother to react to this anymore. This entire video is going to be worthless—there’s nothing he can say.

The video pans around the Minecraft setup and he can see what looks like handmade swings and merry go rounds.

“It took me a really long time to do this and an embarrassing amount of help from some twelve-year-olds on the internet.”

He laughs and is stunned by the wet tears rolling down his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he was crying.

“I re-created a park that is really special to my best friend and I.”

He feels his chest tighten and relax. The park. 

“This is the spot where he held me when my dog died when I was nine. I still miss that dog.”

The view is on a spot next to a blocky oak tree. Jungkook remembers that day, remembers your heartbroken sobs as he whispered words of comfort to you. He misses that dog, too. 

“This is where he and my brother got in a fight when we were eleven, because my brother called me a stupid-head. My best friend has always been protective of me, even from my own big brother.”

He can still remember pushing Namjoon around after hearing him call you names. He pushed Namjoon over and threatened to use his “big muscles” if he did it again.

The camera pans to an enormous structure, rather sloppily made, of a slide and monkey bars.

“This is where we first shared a joint in high school. I coughed a lung up and he ran down the street to a gas station at ten pm to get me a bottle of water even though I told him I was okay,”

The memory of the bewildered 7-11 employee plays through his mind. The man watched as a very stoned, very out of breath, Jungkook paid for a bottle of water in coins.

The video continues playing, moves towards what appears to be a parking lot made of cobblestone blocks.

“This is where he held me when my world fell apart.”

The break-up. The way you cried and cried and cried in his arms and he held you as if you were the only thing left on Earth. 

“This is where he reminded me I’m worthy of love, that I’m not broken. This is where he held me like I was delicate, but treated me like I was unbreakable.”

His tears don’t stop. Jungkook feels his heart thundering in his chest like a summer storm. 

He can hear your sniffles through the recording of the video—you were crying too. It pans around to the swing set.

“And this is where I’ll tell him everything, tonight. Where I’ll tell him how deeply I love him and how I want to make him the happiest guy in the world. In all of Minecraft and beyond. I hope he comes.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother turning his camera off.

Instead, he’s running to change out of his three-day-old clothes and bolt out the door.

The creaky, rusty metal of the swing set is deafeningly loud in the silence of your park.

It’s dark, just a few street lights around to illuminate the perimeter, but it’s otherwise only lit by the moon.

It’s getting cold. You shiver in your hoodie and kick at the dirt under your swing. 

Maybe he didn’t see the video. Maybe he wasn’t going to show.

Maybe it was too late.

You spent hours working on the Minecraft world, staying up at all hours of the night to build and craft a poor re-creation of this park. The twelve-year-olds on Reddit had been invaluable and Namjoon definitely made fun of you for your creative assistants. But it had all been worth it. 

“Fuck,” you speak out loud to no one, as you try to warm your hands in the pockets of your sweater. “It’s cold.”

“You should have brought a jacket.”

The sudden voice from behind startles you. You hop off the swing and whip around to face  down the intruder.

Jungkook.

He looks so good. He’s wearing a thick coat and tight jeans. Your eyes take a delicious journey from head to toe.

He can’t help but preen at your blatant appreciation. He enjoys knowing you’re attracted to him, at least physically.

“You came.”

He nods and takes a nervous step towards you. He’s still far away, more than an arm's-reach away. You’re desperate to bring him closer, to pull him tight against your body and wrap yourself around him. You never want to be without his gentle touch again.

“I felt pretty compelled to come after you made all this in Minecraft for me.” He cracks a wry smile, a boy-ish grin that makes your heart flutter.

“It took me twenty-five hours and some teenagers to help.”

He laughs, a beautiful sound that warms you. “I’m sure they were ecstatic to help.”

You chew at the inside of your cheek, nervous at what he thinks about your in-game confession.

“Did you mean it?” He asks. He steps closer—one more step.

“Every word.”

His eyes are searching yours for the truth, desperately diving into the depths for validity.

“Why did you run away?” Another step.

You swallow hard, heavy tears brimming in your eyes.

“You went from being the silly best friend to being the person I could spend the rest of my life with. It all hit me. It’s always been you.”

One more step and now he’s just within your reach. If you stuck your hand out, your fingers would graze the soft puff of his coat, the delicate skin of his neck. 

“I’ve always felt that way about you. I never thought you’d feel the same.”

You smile softly, timidly. “It just took me a little while longer to realize it.”

All at once, Jungkook closes the gap and holds you gently by your cheeks. His thumbs wipe at the moisture under your eyes. 

“I promise to never make you cry again,” he whispers reverently. 

“And I promise to never run away from you again.” 

Jungkook smiles at that, cradling your face like you’re the most expensive and precious jewel. 

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks, somewhat unsure of himself. 

“I would like it if you would.”

As Jungkook presses his cold, plush lips to your own, you make a promise to yourself to never go a day without kissing him again. 

“I can’t believe you’re in my bedroom,” Jungkook murmurs as he kisses at your face. After the park, Jungkook loaded you into his priceless Nissan and scurried home. You could hardly keep your hands off him as he drove you back to his place—reaching and caressing the spots on his body you’re dying to become familiar with. 

“I’ve been in your bedroom before,” you remind him as he tugs up the hoodie you’re wearing. 

“God, don’t be so semantic when I’m trying to fuck you,” he says before throwing the hoodie to a corner of the room. “You know what I mean.”

Jungkook kisses you again, all lips and teeth and tongue. He kisses you like you’re the last breath of air, and he’s greedy for every bit. He grips your hips, not too tight, and brings your body against his. You can feel him grow in hardness in his too tight, and it feels like bliss. 

Teasingly, you grind your hips against his, making him shudder with desire.

“I want you,” he whines as he nibbles at your lip. 

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

He opens his eyes to level a look at you, pulling his mouth away from yours. 

“You’re such a little smartass.”

His hands become feverish on your jeans, tugging apart the button and flicking down the fly. He pushes them down quickly, and you kick them off carelessly. 

He can’t stop looking at you in your bra and panties, standing at the foot of his bed. 

“Holy shit, okay, this is happening, right? Like, this is real?” 

You smirk, pleased with Jungkook’s obvious excitement. 

“Let me prove it’s not just a dream.” 

Softly, you spin Jungkook around and push him down to sit on his bed. He complies easily, eyes wide and excited. 

“If this is a dream, would you be able to feel this?” You ask as you unbuckle  his belt and open his jeans. He doesn’t reply, simply watches you as you tug his jeans down to his thighs. 

His cock strains hard against his tight boxers, and you run a teasing finger over the obvious bulge. 

“Oh fuck,” he breathes. 

“Feels pretty real, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” 

Your delicate hands gently tug at the waistband of his boxers and easily work them down enough to free the length of his cock. It springs out easily and your eyes widen at the impressive size. You assumed he would be at least average, but you’re looking at something definitely more. 

“Oh wow,” you whisper. “You’re fucking huge.” 

Jungkook grins. “All for you, baby.” The cockiness is palpable. 

One solid grip around him wipes the presumptuous smile off his face, replaced with a gasping, shuddering moan. 

“How about this? Not a dream?”

He struggles to find his voice, instead he’s gulping for air like a fish out of water. 

“That’s what I thought,” you whisper before settling into a position on your knees. “I’ll admit, I’ve dreamt about this too. I always felt so ashamed for dreaming about sucking my best friend's cock.”

You press soft kisses to the head of his length, teasing the sensitive areas at the tip before kissing up and down the length. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

His evident desire for you encourages you, and your tongue swipes at the crown of his tip and swirls around it gently. 

“Oh my god.” His eyes shutter closed and you trace the veins in his dick with your tongue. 

“This h-has to be a dreeeaaaaam,” he whines as you make an exceptionally long stripe with the flat of your tongue. 

You pull off for a moment, humming. He springs his eyes open and watches as you reach behind your back and unsnap your bra. Your breasts escape with a bounce and his eyes widen, nearly bulging out of their sockets. 

“What the fuck,” he whines. “You have the most amazing tits.”

He reaches out to grasp them and you slap them away playfully. 

“Not yet,” you smirk. “Still trying to convince you you’re not asleep.” 

He sucks in his breath and puts his hands back to the bed to steady himself, eyes never leaving yours (except to stare at the luscious curves of your body). 

Grasping your breasts in both hands, you smash them together lightly in an elaborate show of what Jungkook wants most. You lean over his body and place the throbbing thickness of his cock in between your tits, allowing him to feel just how soft and warm they are. 

“Shit!” He yelps, grabbing his sheets in a tight fist. “Are you really tit-fucking me right now?!”

Slowly, you lift your body up and down, allowing his cock to feel each stroke of your breasts. You nod at his question and continue to pump up and down. 

“Still dreaming?” 

He whines and shakes his head, already feeling so close to the edge. His cock is slick from your teasing licks and the pressure of your tits surrounding him had his mind spinning with desire. 

“Ahhh, I’m so fucking close,” he warns.

You continue, speeding up the friction and pressure of your strokes. 

“I want you to cum on me, Kook,” you whisper encouragingly. “Cum on my tits, please?”

Jungkook feels like he’s a wire about to snap, and your thick, sultry voice and incredibly perfect breasts are the snips that breaks him apart. 

“Oh, shit,” he grunts. “Gonna paint your titties white, baby.”

His moans echo around the walls of his bedroom, small gasps of pleasure and your name escaping his perfectly plump pout. 

His hot load splatters on your chest, and you stroke him through each pulse of his cock. You’re slippery with his seed now, and when you pull away from his spent length, you make a show of rubbing in his cum over your chest.

“Okay, definitely not dreaming,” he says in a daze as he watches you lift a wet finger to your mouth, popping it in to clean it off. “Who knew you were so fucking kinky?” 

His confidence grows as he catches his breath. He can’t believe he’s sitting on his bed with you on your knees, breasts covered in his load. You’re suckling the cum off your finger like it’s his cock, and he’s desperate for more.

“There are lots of things you don’t know about me,” you shrug. 

Swiftly, he grabs you gently by your bicep and pulls you close, sucking at your lips until you’re both standing. 

“I plan to find out everything.” 

Suddenly, you’re switching positions and Jungkook is pushing you down into the bed. You lay flat in the center, body relaxed and eager for your best friend.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He’s still standing at the end of the bed, watching you get comfortable. Once he’s satisfied that you’re lying exactly how you want, he settles himself by your feet.

“Worshipping you,” he says as he lifts an ankle and presses gentle kisses to your calf. “Showing you how much I adore you.” More kisses, soft and sweet. “Showing you how I plan on treating you for the rest of your life.” 

He takes his time, lavishing your legs with his mouth. He kisses and sucks at any spot, sexual or not. He mouths at the roundness of your knees, your firm hamstrings. He presses his love into the skin of your thighs, mouthing his praises with each kiss. 

He reaches the dip of your hips and he gently kisses your exposed skin as he tugs your cotton panties off you. 

“I have loved every inch of you since before I can remember,” he praises as his lips skim over the mound of your cunt. “And I don’t plan on stopping soon.” 

Your body feels like it’s on fire, as if Jungkook lights a match at every spot his lips press against. Your eyes close, and you allow Jungkook to continue his pious worship of your body. 

He teases around your folds, kissing your labia ever so gently—making you gasp. He doesn’t linger long, only kisses you enough to stir the licking flames of heat in your belly.  

He kisses at your stomach, gently nibbling and laving at the softness there. You try to hide from him, try to hide your insecurities of your body in his thorough exploration, but he moves your hands. 

“I know you don’t like this part of your body,” he murmurs. His voice is so soft, so pure and sincere. “But I do. I love everything about you.” 

His tongue swirls around your belly button, making you gasp at the ticklish sensation. 

“You’re so pretty. So perfect.” 

He continues upwards, lips now trailing to your full breasts. He takes his time there, licking and kissing and flicking at your nipples with his tongue. It feels exhilarating—Jungkook’s mouth feels like everything you want it to feel like. His tongue is warm, and he bites with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the bed into his embrace.

His hands explore, taking stock of every millimeter of skin he can find. He wants to memorize every freckle, every bump, every scar and line. Your body is his paradise, and all he can think of is you, you, you.

One hand travels down your body as he moves his lips up your neck. It snakes down your stomach and deftly slides over your soaked core. You whine as you feel his fingers part your folds and dip into the wetness.

“So wet,” he says out loud, verbalizing every tantalizing detail of your body. “So perfect.”

His lips are finally at your own and you kiss him passionately, tongue swirling around his as he slides his two fingers past your clit and into your drenched hole. You gasp against his mouth, eyes widening as he slowly scissors his fingers into you and pumps slowly. It’s almost teasing, the way he fucks his fingers in you. Slow, firm movements with his powerful hands.

“Jungkook!” You gasp. He doesn’t reply, instead he bites at your lip and tugs, then trails his hot mouth back down to your nipples. He can’t get enough of your breasts and the slightly salty taste of him still lingering.

“You feel so good,” he says as he speeds his fingers up minutely. “So tight and wet for me.”

Your hips writhe in need. He’s giving you what you need, but not enough. You need more, more. You want to feel him, all of him, spearing you open.

“Please, Kook,” you groan. “I need you.”

He laughs softly against your nipple and sucks extra hard, letting it pop out of his mouth audibly.

“And I need you, my love.”

“Fuck me, please.” You’re desperate, thighs quaking from the slow teasing. “I want you to fuck me, Jungkook.”

Chills shudder down Jungkook’s spine and he’s powerless to say no, not when you demand it so well.

“With pleasure,” he agrees. He pulls his fingers from within you and copies your move, sliding them into his mouth to suck your essence off. 

He’s never looked sexier. His eyes are dark chocolate pools of burning intensity, and you feel your breath become shaky as you watch him clean his fingers with precision.

After he’s deemed his fingers sufficiently clean, he settles himself between your legs. Easily, he lifts your hips and shoves a pillow underneath, elevating you to a more comfortable position. He grabs your legs and tosses each over his shoulders so they’re higher in the air. 

“I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promises as he rubs the tip of his cock on your soppy slit. “Condom?”

You shake your head, appreciative of his question but desperate to feel him completely.

“Birth control. Regularly tested. Haven’t had sex in a while,” you blurt out. “You good?”

He nods in agreement. “Same. Well, except the birth control. But, I’d take it if they made it for men.”

“Jungkook!” You whine. Your best friend is so easily sidetracked. “Please, can you fuck me?”

He grins. “Tsk, someone is impatient.”

A low moan is rumbling in your chest as he continues to rub his thick cock at your entrance.

“I swear to god, you’re the biggest tease.”

“Oh, I’m definitely the biggest.”

Before you can react, he’s pushing past your entrance and sliding deep in your walls. Your position makes his cock feel deep, and he bottoms out and stills there, eyes closed in bliss.

“Holy shit,” he gasps. “This is absolutely the best pussy I’ve ever felt.”

You wiggle your hips as you get used to the sensation of the delicious stretch.

“Please don’t tell me how many pussies you’ve felt when you’re balls deep inside of me.”

Jungkook turns his head and kisses at your legs resting on his shoulders, lavishing them with his praise once more as he keeps his cock buried inside your tight heat.

“Yours is the only one that matters. The only pussy I’ll ever be in for the rest of my life.”

“That’s a good answer,” you smile. “Now, fuck me, lover boy.”

Jungkook winks and grips your hips with his hands. He swiftly pulls out, enamored with the way his cock is already covered in your creamy essence, then eagerly pushes back in. He sets a pace and soon the sound of skin clapping on skin echoes around the room.

“Oh god!” You’re moaning loudly, unabashedly. You’re thankful that Jungkook’s old roommate, Yoongi, moved out to live with his boyfriend Hoseok months ago. He’d definitely complain about the noise for months. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good.”

Jungkook fucks into you with ferocity, speed and power gradually rising as he feels his core tighten with the coming anticipation of release.

“Mmm, you look so fucking sexy like this,” he murmurs. “Getting fucked by your best friend’s fat cock.”

He moves a hand from your hip, trails it up your body to squeeze at your breast, before he’s cupping your face once again. His hips snap against yours and he loves the way your mouth utters little squeaks and gasps with each deep thrust into you.

“God, my beautiful girl,” he groans. “Can’t wait to cum in this pussy, shit, you got me so fucking close.”

You open your mouth desperately and Jungkook easily slips his thumb in. You latch on quickly and suck, tongue swirling around the tip like you’re sucking another cock. It nearly sends him over the edge and the speed of his hips matches his desperate need for more.

“Fucking hell,” he bites back. He can feel his belly tighten, driven further and further to the edge by the constricting wetness of your cunt. 

He pulls his thumb out and moves it down to where his cock spears into you, allowing your spit to swirl with his thumb around your clit. Your core tightens around him at the added stimulation and your back arches up in ecstasy.

“I’m so c-close, Kook,” you plead, as if begging for mercy. “Please, I want to cum so bad.”

The speed of his thumb increases, and he watches as your face twists in pleasure and desperation. 

“Cum on my cock, baby, let me see you fall apart. Show me what I’ve dreamt of for so long.”

A high and wanton cry ripples out of your body as he savagely increases his speed, both his cock and thumb working overtime to drive you towards your end. The butterflies that erupt in your lower stomach make your moans louder, higher. You’re so close, closer than ever. It’s building to an incredible crescendo.

He can tell you’re close—he sees it on your face as your back arches and your fists grip his sheets.

“You look like a fucking angel, baby,” he whines as he soaks in the vision of you writhing underneath him. “I bet you cum like an angel, too. Let me see it, let me see.”

With just a few more swirls of his thumb and his deep, hard strokes, you’re soaring over the edge into a pool of nothingness. Your cunt pulsates wildly around his length, milking and stroking it with your tight walls. You throw your head back, moaning out his name at the top of his lungs, letting his neighbors know just who fucks you so well.

“Holy shit,” he gasps, hips stuttering as he fucks into your juicy hole. “That was so fucking sexy.”

You grip his forearms, holding onto him tight and encourage him to go harder. “Cum inside me, Kookie, please. I’m all yours, make me yours.”

His heart feels like it might burst in his chest. He’s always wanted you to say it to him, to hand over your love to him like he does so easily to you. It’s all so much, so overwhelming, and the feeling of your hot cunt still fluttering around him sends him reeling into his own completion. 

He spills into you, warm seed coating your walls and pooling inside your womb. He fucks himself through each throb of his cock until he’s sure he’s drained every ounce of himself into you.

Your legs slip off his shoulders easily, and he gently pulls himself out of you. He falls beside you, panting with exertion, and wraps an arm around you.

After a few silent moments of catching your breath, Jungkook pulls you in close to him until he can koala-cling to you, arms and legs both wrapped around your body.

“Mine,” he whispers as he kisses your head. “All mine.”

You return the favor, clinging to your best friend—boyfriend—like he’s your only lifeline.

“All yours.”

“So, you’re telling me, you got together because of Minecraft?” Jimin asks, pointing a fork in your direction. It’s been months now since your grand virtual declaration of love for Jungkook. Months of bliss and romance, laughter and companionship. 

You were right all along. Jungkook is everything you’ve wanted in a man and more.

You’re sitting at your brother’s expensive dinner table, enjoying a meal with his family with your boyfriend at your side.

“Yeah, Jimin, I guess that’s what I’m saying,” you retort as you roll your eyes. “Minecraft and Tinder.”

Baby Jisoo is awake and in your brother’s arms, but she’s whining and wiggling to leave him.

“What’s wrong, Soo?” Namjoon asks with a pout on his lips. “Why don’t you want daddy anymore?”

Jimin snorts at his husband and you hold out your arms for your baby niece. “Come here, baby, I know you want auntie.”

Namjoon dutifully hands over his daughter, sulking that he’s been picked over for his sister. 

You cradle the baby in your arms, expecting her to calm once she’s there, but she continues to fuss. She’s thrusting her arms out and nearly crying, reaching towards Jungkook who’s busy chowing down on Jimin’s homemade ramen.

“I think she wants you, Kook,” you murmur. He looks at you, then to the baby, then back to you, before he wipes his hands and face clean with a napkin.

“Oh, okay,” he whispers, slowly taking the baby from your arms with your help. “Hello, ma’am.”

Namjoon and Jimin laugh. “She’s a baby, Jungkook, not an elderly woman,” your brother teases.

Jungkook doesn’t listen. He’s too busy cooing at the baby in his arms and playing with her tiny hands. Namjoon turns his attention away and looks at you.

“Guess I won’t be the only provider of grandchildren for much longer.”

You playfully glare at him and turn away to watch your boyfriend. Watching Jungkook interact with your niece makes your heart swell, your soul sing. He’d be a perfect father.

“I swear, if he teaches her how to play Minecraft, he’s banned from the household,” Jimin grumbles. “This is a No-Nerd-Zone.”

Jungkook cradles the child and rocks back and forth, singing her a soft, made-up song, before he looks over at you.

“Hey, I want one of these,” he smiles. “Can we have one?”

You lay a hand on your stomach, a soft bump not quite visible yet. It’s only been one test, the lines faintly indicating ‘positive’ on the stick. You wanted to make sure, get confirmation before you spill the beans.

“Sure, Kookie.”

He grins and leans over to kiss you, before turning his attention back to the baby. “Okay, Jisoo, now let me tell you all about the Endermen.”

Jimin groans. “Oh my god, do not give Minecraft facts to my infant!”

tag list - @giadalin @nohayarcoirissintormenta @pjmislovely @xhazmania @marcoazam2 @eggbutnotyolk @feel-the-sunset @unicornbabylover @aretha170 @jeonmisha @hordanhearsawhooo 

© ppersonna - 2021 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Harry Styles — Secret Little Rendezvous

Thank you guys so much for all the support on my last post! I have a ton of ideas so I'm hoping to post at least twice a week. Hope you like this one! xx

Masterlist

As the music editor of a popular magazine, you got to hang out with a lot of celebrities. You had started taking photos with each one mostly for yourself, and to send to your mom (She was thrilled with every single one, but the last time you visited home you saw the photo of you and Bon Jovi had been printed and framed). With every Instagram post, your following grew steadily, until your follower count screamed less “journalist” and more “influencer.”

It was during his press tour for Fine Line that you first met Harry Styles. Your reputation preceded you; a few of his crew members had been following you for a while, and when they found out that you were interviewing him they promptly scrolled through your entire Instagram with him, though you didn’t find that out until later.

The interview went great; it was filmed for the magazine’s YouTube channel, but you still jotted notes into your light blue mini moleskine, wanting to capture your observations to make the article more intimate and personal. Banter flew easily between the two of you, and two years of interviewing celebrities had emboldened you quickly, so you weren’t afraid to tease him and ask the hard questions that everyone wanted answers to. He was a good sport, and dished it right back to you, making fun of your midwestern accent and your celebrity obsessions.

After the interview, you started to tell him about your Instagram, preparing to ask him to take a picture, but he cut you off.

“I have an idea for the photo,” he said, catching you off guard. You stared at him, blinking in confusion. “Where’s the fashion closet?” After a quick glance at the production manager, who just shrugged and nodded his approval, you grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him out of the film studio.

“Come on,” you said, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you led him through the labyrinth-like hallways of the magazine’s office building.

“Sorry it’s so twisty,” you added, glancing over your shoulder at Harry, who looked amused. “This building is super old, and I think it used to be, like, 10 different apartments that they smushed together.”

“That’s New York real estate for you,” Harry joked, making you laugh.

“I’ve thought about just moving into my office, it’d save me a fortune each month and I wouldn’t even lose any square footage.” You chuckled nervously, self-conscious about mentioning your tiny studio apartment to Harry-fucking-Styles, of all people. “Anyways, here we are.”

You opened a door, leading Harry into the fashion department.

“I’m sorry,” you mouthed at your friend Imogen, one of the styling assistants, as you passed her on your way to the closet. She gave you a wide-eyed, open-mouthed stare, momentarily distracted from the fitting she was currently in the middle of.

“Here we are,” you said as you opened the closet door. “All yours.” You realized you were still holding Harry’s hand and blushed, quickly trying to drop it. He squeezed it before letting go, and your hand fell limply to your side.

He dug around until he found what he wanted. Two hats and two jackets. He put one of each on and placed the second hat on your head, handing you the jacket.

“So are you going to tell me what we’re doing?” you asked, slipping on the jacket. He shook his head, smiling shyly.

“Nope. It’s a surprise,” he said, grabbing your hand this time. “Come on, first one back wins!” He opened the door and led you out but dropped your hand as soon as you were out the door, taking off ahead of you.

“Hey, no fair!” You called after him, racing to catch up.

When you returned to the studio, you handed your phone to one of the production assistants. Harry directed the shot, recreating the iconic photo of Rick and Ilsa in Casablanca. It was intoxicating, standing so close to Harry, gazing into his eyes. They were greener up close, like the grass in spring. Your heart was beating so fast you were sure he could hear it. After about a minute, you saw his lips curling up in the beginning stages of a smile and bit the inside of your lip to keep from laughing. It didn’t work, and soon the two of you were both cracking up.

Once you had calmed down, the PA handed your phone back to you with a wink. You scrolled through the shots, there were a few awkward-looking ones at first, but there were one or two that seemed perfect. As you scrolled to the end of your camera roll, you saw she had caught some candids of the two of you laughing. They made your heart flutter, and you quickly scrolled back to the more serious shots as Harry made his way over to you to peek over your shoulder.

“It looks good,” he said. “You have to put a black-and-white filter on it, when you post it.”

“Will do,” you replied, starting to put your phone in your pocket. Harry grabbed your wrist, stopping you midway.

“Wait,” he grabbed the phone out of your hands and started typing something. “I’m sending these to myself.”

You tried not to let your excitement show too much, not sure if this was a way to get your number or if he just really wanted a copy of the photo.

That night, before you posted the photo, your phone vibrated with a text.

Hey, it’s Harry.

You squealed and clicked on the notification to pull up the text conversation that you had been avoiding all day, sure he had immediately deleted it. But nope, there it was, and above his most recent message were the photos he had sent; the one that turned out the best, and then all three of your candids. Your heart skipped a beat as you texted back.

hi Harry

That kicked off a few months of texting, which turned into daily phone calls, before he flew out to New York to surprise you with a private dinner on the rooftop of the Ritz-Carlton for your birthday. The rest, as they say, is history.

Oh, and the photo you posted ended up getting over a million likes, skyrocketing your follower count, too.

***

It had been over two years, and though you had been as discreet as possible, people were starting to get suspicious. The only photos you had posted together were the official interview photos, recreating Sandy and Danny’s all-black ensembles from Grease, Justin Timberlake and Britney Spears’ iconic denim moment, and, most recently, the boat scene from The Notebook. That one had taken a dedicated photoshoot to capture, but it turned out incredible.

But apparently, when you recreate iconic couples' photos more than once, people start to catch on. Plus, although Harry had only been on tour for a month, you had flown out to six of his shows already. As a music editor, being at concerts wasn’t out of the ordinary, but usually, the magazine only sent you to the first show of an artist’s tour, and then the New York show, if there was one. Fans had been speculating about your relationship for a while, so you and Harry decided to make it public. After all, you were both itching to get out and explore the world together. You decided it would be fitting to do one final interview with Harry, before leaving your job to join him on tour.

That’s how you found yourself sitting across from Harry in the studio on October 2nd, 2021.

“So, Harry, thanks for joining me again,” you said, pressing your lips together to try and keep from laughing.

“Thanks for having me, Y/N,” he replied, his smile slightly too big for a press interview.

“I hear you’ve got not one, not two, but three sold-out shows at Madison Square Garden coming up. Congratulations, that’s quite the accomplishment.”

“Thank you, but it has nothing to do with me, really.” His eyes flickered down, bashfully. “It’s the fans, they’re the ones who made it happen. And my incredible crew, of course.” He let out a laugh. “I’m just the singing, dancing monkey.”

You chuckled before responding. “You’re slightly more talented than a monkey.”

The rest of the interview went pretty smoothly, and you asked some generic questions about the tour so far, letting Harry take up most of the time to share some stories from behind the scenes. As the producer motioned at you to wrap it up, you took back control of the situation.

“So there’s one final question that I haven’t asked you since our first interview two years ago,” you said, trying to sound mysterious. Harry folded his hands under his chin, leaning forward.

“Ask away,” he said, waiting patiently, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Is there anyone special in your life these days? It’s been a while since you’ve been seen with anyone and your fans are extremely curious.”

“Well, I’ve actually been with someone for the past two years. She’s incredible, and although I’ve loved having her all to myself, I think that’s been rather selfish of me and it’s about time I share her with the world.” You felt your cheeks heating up and tried to hide your smile.

“I’m so glad to hear that! I actually have some news myself, if I can interrupt?” You glanced over at Harry, who gave you an encouraging nod.

“This is actually the last interview I’m doing for Iconic Magazine,” you paused to take a breath. “I’ve absolutely loved my time here but after today, I will be starting my next adventure as a freelance writer. That way I will have more time to join my boyfriend on tour.” You looked into the camera and winked as you said the word boyfriend. Harry reached over to take your hand in his.

“That’s me, by the way, in case you didn’t get that,” he added as you laced your fingers through his. You wrapped up the interview by saying goodbye to everyone who had supported you throughout your career at Iconic, before turning back to Harry.

“Well Harry, thanks for coming,” you said,

“Funny, she said that to me last night, too,” he joked, a cheeky grin breaking out on his face. The entire crew busted out laughing. You reached across and slapped him playfully on the arm.

“Harry! You can’t say that! I’m at work!”

“It’s literally your last day!”

The interview ended and later the editing team faded it out slowly as the two of you bickered, reminiscent of an old 90’s sitcom. It was the perfect way to end your career at the magazine and kick off your new adventure.

Instead of some sort of posed photo, after the interview has been live for a few hours, you post a simple selfie of you and Harry from a few days ago in Chicago with the caption Introducing… Harry Styles, the boyfriend, not to be confused with Harry Styles, the celebrity.

That post blew all of your previous posts with Harry out of the water, and you were excited to begin a new chapter by his side.

[you-did-well-moon]

Werewolf!Yunho meeting his mate

Type: Werewolf au, angst, fluff

Pairing: Werewolf!Yunho x HumanFemale!reader

Word count:  2,994

A/n: I know this took a long time, trust me, it felt like a long time for me too. With how I view Yunho, I expected this to be happier than it is. I was having a hard time while writing this, and it reflected on the story. Anyways please enjoy and stay safe!

TW: toxic relationship, financial struggle, deadlines, stressed reader, emotional and verbal pain, toxic masculinity, if I missed anything please tell me.

You sat at the foot of your bed, still not made, staring at the mirror resting against your dull colored wall with lifeless blank eyes. Your posture slouched as you finished tying the laces of your running shoes huffing and letting your arms flop to the ground. Looking at the mirror, you tried smiling, but it was meak and disappeared as soon as it appeared. 

You hadn’t smiled a real smile in so long, you forgot what it felt like. To smile. To be happy. The forgotten emotion was one you took for granted when it was easy to to bask in the warmth of it. Now it's just cold. Cold and empty. 

You looked away from the mirror with a tight feeling coiling in the base of your chest not being able to bear looking at the stranger staring back at you any longer. Your gaze fell to the laptop, abandoned, due to frustration on your desk in the forgotten corner of the room. The thought of unfinished drafts and incomplete sentences shook violently in your mind. Disappointment in yourself pooling in your gut remembering your editor’s words. 

“If you can’t give us at least a first draft by the end of the month, we’ll have to unfortunately let you and your novel go.”

How pathetic was it that you couldn’t even come up with a simple sentence. A description, dialogue, a metaphor. Nothing. Anytime you sat yourself in front of the desk, your mind went blank. The cursor blinking at the top of the page mocked you with the possibility of millions of words. Not one ever made its way onto the page.  

The end of the month was in two weeks. 

You felt tears of hopelessness stinging the corner of your eyes, and you abruptly stood up grabbing your wireless earbuds, phone, and bag. Making your way into the kitchen you grabbed the water in the fridge and placed it inside your back, nothing but a numb feeling alienating you from reality and its broken expectations. You heard the front door of your little apartment open and slam close shaking the thin walls of the building. 

Your heart lurched as you winced immediately feeling like you were walking on eggshells. You were usually quick enough to leave before he got home from work, but you had been a tad bit late this one time. You gripped the strap of your bag tightly hoping for it to ground you through whatever vile words came from the one person you should have been able to trust with your ugliest feelings. 

Trying to walk past your boyfriend, eyes trained on the chipped wood of the front door did no good when he kissed his teeth and huffed as soon as he caught sight of you.

“You’re never home when I get home from work, and the one time you are here, you run away not even saying hi to me? Not even a “hey honey how was work today” or maybe a “hi love what would you like for dinner?” and never a “you’ve worked hard would you like a massage?” It's the same shit every day. You treat me like nothing when I'm the reason you even have a roof over your head woman.”

You kept your mouth the whole time he rambled on trying to ignore the clear stench of beer being able to reach you even with all the distance separating you, and the feeling of disgust mixed with desperation pooling at the bottom of your gut at yourself for not speaking up for yourself. Opening your mouth instead of letting your voice be taken from you. A long time ago, you would always say you would rather die than be without your voice. In a sense, you had died a long time ago. 

Around three months after you had started dating. That had been two years ago. 

Your English degree really did you no good. Not having enough time to be an intern in college really screwed you over when no job would take a bright eyed girl with the same passion in her heart for writing as a Karen’s passion for business that wasn’t hers, but with no experience. Even if the apartment was under your name, you’d probably be kicked out in weeks time.

You hated all of it. Everything that made up both the small and big parts of your life, you hated it. You hated his greasy hair and beady eyes, the nasty rough stubble covering the lower part of his face as a result of his laziness. You hated the hesitation in leaving him because of the fear of the stack of bills piling up next to the fridge. You hated the editors who couldn’t find it in some part of their greedy selves to extend your deadline. You hated the empty drafts sitting in your laptop collecting what could only be dead dreams and despair. You hated the cold emptiness that was always present in the confines of your chest. 

You recoiled at the way he said “woman” the same way someone would talk about a bug. Small and insignificant. Patronizing and confident in the worst way. You set your mouth in a tight line not even being able to look at him. Shifting your feet, you crossed your arms and looked up to the sky as if calling out to some unknown being to get you out of this pathetic corner you were trapped in. You cursed under your breath looking at the dying flowers on the coffee table with distaste as they wilted towards you mocking you. 

“What was that?” His voice got rougher with the menacing edge of fanned masculinity and control. Something that could put you in a dangerous place in a very fast amount of time. You looked at him with dull eyes poking your cheek with your tongue as a cold feeling settled in your gut. 

Your hands fell limply to your side and you chuckled humorlessly. 

“Fuck you”.

Those two words were enough to set him off as you slowly blinked and looked at the ground feeling your heart falter when he abruptly got up. You tried to stand your ground, but the surge of confidence was quickly withering away with fear taking its place. 

Ethan was bigger than you. Even if he wasn’t that much taller than you, there was a noticeable difference in his frame and yours. Weirdly enough, you didn’t regret your curse at him. The words still burned brilliantly on the tip of your tongue. 

It was bittersweet of course. His nose flared, and his eyes bulged as he took large strides over to you knocking the coffee table over on his path to you.

“What did you say to me you-” his words were said through gritted teeth, brash and loud in the silent apartment.

 Maybe he was bigger and stronger than you, but you were faster.

You inhaled sharply reacting fast as your hand reached behind you, turning the knob and slipping around it slamming the door close. Your bag bumped against your back while you bolted to the door with the word “stairs” painted in big bold letters across it. You were already at the door when you heard your apartment door open and Ethan angrily called your name. Threatening to break your laptop if you didn’t go back right this instant. 

You couldn’t help but snicker at the weak attempt. It’s not like there were much but empty pages anyways. 

A heavy feeling soon settled on your chest as you went down the stairs. Your apartment was on the 4th floor, and the stairs weren’t the most taken care of, but it’s not like you had much of a choice anyways. It seemed these days you were always wanting to run away from something. 

Your heart felt a little lighter when the warm rays of sun met your skin and the fresh air outside flooded your senses. Your walk to the park went as usual. Cars racing to get where they needed to, people chattered about everything and nothing, and your thoughts wandered to a world far away from this one. 

A world that wasn’t as dark as this one. At the same time your mind became your executioner, it became your safe place. The sick contrast making a nasty feeling flood your chest.

You arrived at the park with a small smile. The normalcy of the day bringing a little comfort to your still racing heart. Kids ran around, laughter ringing in the air around them as their parents watched on benches gossiping among themselves. People raced fast either by foot, bicycle, or skateboard, a visible sheen on their necks. You looked for the kind old man who always looked after your bag while you ran. 

He owned a music store a few blocks away, and he always sat on the bench closest to the pond with his cute corgi and habitually feeding the ducks peas and lettuce leaves when finished  with a certain chapter of his book. You walked up to him with a small smile as he looked up and took the sight of you in with fatherly worry.  

“You look a little pale kid, everything alright?” 

You did your best to liven up and gave your best customer service smile which the older man immediately saw through.

“Of course Mr.Jung. Why wouldn’t it be? I’m just a little tired from the editors. They’re on my back more than usual”, you laughed nervously as he hummed in understanding.

“I hope that boy of yours isn’t giving you any problems. Hey kid, have you ever heard of the term “break up?” he looked so serious you had to compose your shocked face. 

You waved your hands rapidly “I promise Mr.Jung everything is fine there is...I...oh my” you took a shaky breath as he simply shrugged his shoulders and pet his smaller companion who was having a very serious stare down with a duck. 

You wiped your sweaty palms on your yoga pants while you looked around at the tacky named paths trying to decide which one to run today. 

“The Pupper Runner path looks particularly nice today,” he suggested. You looked at the path pursing your lips in thought. The path wasn’t one you ran frequently. Since it was one of the wider and flatter paths, there were more people such as families or people walking their dogs. You also didn’t like having run-ins with the cyclists who were grouchier around this time of day for some odd reason.

After contemplating it, you shrugged and decided why not. Getting run over by a ticking time bomb on wheels wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen today. With a small smile sent in Mr.Jungs way, you checked your shoe laces before starting out with a light jog making your way down the specific path.

There was nothing really different about today’s run than others. Just having to dodge the wheel demons and kids happily running ahead of their worried mothers. You were grateful for the distraction. It kept you from straying too far into your head. It was just you running. Running like you always did these days, your shoes slapping on the concrete path and Got7 blaring in your ears. 

The heat of the sun shone on your skin, but oddly you still felt cold. It was always cold these days. A light breeze fresh to your burning skin as desperate eyes caught yours, and you were once again bought out of your stupor. 

A small boy was kneeled down fingers clutching his untied shoelaces not far from his dad who was trying to calm a crying baby. You didn’t really have a strong adoration for kids, but his panicked pinched face compelled you to come to a slow stop in front of him. Your chest heaved as you bent down to his level sitting on your heels and wrapped your arms around your legs.

“Hey bud, you need some help there?”

The kid made a distraught sound as he nodded his face shaking his hair out of his eyes. He looked dumb founded as he stared at his shoe laces in search of answers they would never give.

“Mama said to make a bunny, but this looks more like my aunt Carol’s dog” he sadly told you.

You snorted reaching out gently to tie his laces with a double knot.

With a grin you looked up at him ruffling his hair and giving him a thumbs up which he happily returned with a toothy smile.

“It’s alright kid, you’ll eventually get it. Just keep trying yeah? Don’t settle or you might catch yourself tripping next time you go on a walk. You’ll get hurt. Wouldn’t want that would we”, you said, lips still stretched kindly upwards, but something in your words struck stingingly deep in your chest. 

As the kid nodded happily with a carefree laugh you were about to get up when you heard the air being split and a strained voice yelling “watch out!!”. 

You looked up, panicked, only to see a frisbee racing right in your direction with alarming speed. With the goal of protecting the small child, you quickly turned your body. Your shoes making a rough sound against the concrete as a startled light cry left the younger boy’s mouth.

With your hands ready, you easily caught the frisbee gasping at the shock of the situation. You quickly shook it off as you gripped the frisbee turning back to the child who profusely thanked you, his small hands shaking as they clutched onto the hem of your shirt. 

You simply smiled reassuringly tapping his shoe and ushering him back to his father who has begun to successfully calm the fussing baby down. 

With shaking knees you tried to get up only to wince and slightly waver at the sharp sting that hit your ankle area. You clenched your jaw feeling more than annoyed at the current situation in hand. 

You stood up grumbling under your breath as a tall figure jogged over to you. While he made his way toward you, your narrowed eyes met his wide, apologetic ones. 

You felt the world shift around you as a calming warmth shot through your body melding with the confusion and panic pooling in your gut, and his eyes widened impossibly as he stumbled managing to stabilize himself right in time in front of you. His figure standing just inches away from you as his hands trembled, and his lips slightly parted.

You got a slight whiff of cologne and mint, but more than anything, the weird feeling in your gut was making a way for the dreadful panic clouding around your heart. 

You felt warm. 

After feelings of feeling nothing but the hollow cold licking at your veins, there was a nice warmth settling in your chest. 

You were scared of it. 

With a heavy chest you slightly inched back left somewhat immobile due to the aching pain in your ankle. “What the hell?”, you immediately set off on questioning him leading him to shake his head frantically at you. 

“I’m so sorry, i really am.” He put his hand on his chest as if trying to prove his sincerity to you, but you breathlessly took a step back stunned by the intense feelings taking over your heart and mind. 

You tried shaking it off, but the warmth lingered. 

You weren’t sure you wanted it to go away. 

“There’s kids here”, you were so distracted by all the emotions circling your mind you couldn’t possibly put any effort into arguing with the young man. His lips parted to make way for his lips as he nodded his head in understanding. “I know, I'll be more careful next time. I promise.”

Somehow, you knew he was being truthful. You went to say something, possibly something dangerous, but you shook your head and waved your hand. 

You tried taking a step but lightly hissed at the sharp pain that shot from your ankle up your leg. The man instantly dove forward steadying you with a heavy hand between your shoulder blades, and the other hovering in worry near your collarbone. 

With wide eyes you looked at him as he realized his un-asked for touch and immediately went to back away. 

He couldn’t.  

Your hand was clutching the cloth of his shirt near his shoulder blades. Hands slowly uncurling, you smiled awkwardly, but he kept his hand where it was. At his touch, the warmth licking the insides of your body became all the more distracting. 

“Um, I don’t think you can go all the way back home like this”, he cleared his throat looking at you shily under his bangs. Flustered, you smiled at the ground before looking back up and timidly asking “I can't. Mind helping me out?”.

At your question he let out a beaming grin nodding eagerly. He went to stand in front of you, and he crouched down looking at you over his shoulder with soft brown eyes. You did a small jump, and were caught by his hands slightly gripping under your thighs. 

He gave a low chuckle that somehow was felt from where your chest was pressed up against his shoulder blades. “So...what’s your name?”. You let a light giggle escape, “Y/n, yours?”. You saw his jaw move with the syllables of your name whispering it to himself. 

“Yunho”, you smiled also sounding out the name on your own mouth. You gave a shuddering exhale, and you laid your head on his shoulder letting yourself really rest for what seemed like the first time in forever. 

That night you walked right past Ethan who was quick to begin yelling at you, and you tucked yourself under the safety of your blankets feeling the warmth still encasing your heart, so comforting and alive.  

[corpsehusband-simp]

QuarantEEF

Request: could you write something for Ethan, maybe set during quarantine Unus Annus? like the reader keeps helping him with his videos and they're dating and the editors leave in a clip of them kissing and they don't realize until people go crazy on Twitter? 

A/N: As we all know Unus Annus has now ended so I was unable to look back on at the video for reference and I have a terrible memory so I cant really remember a lot from the videos. Also this is just a little short, Im writing this at like 12 am 😅

“15 minutes starting now! Go!” Ethan and Mark mute their calls and stop screen sharing so they can both go hunt on the internet for each other’s deep dark secrets. Ethan sits back after a few minutes and lets out a sign. He looks at the time and sees he still has 10 minutes to go. Ethan bites his lip trying to bite back his smirk as he looks at the camera. 

“Editors, you see nothing got it?” He leans as far back in his chair as he can and yells. “BAAaaaAAAABe!!! Can you come here, please!? ANd bring your phone!!!”

Spencer looks up at you.

“Hey don’t look at me like that, I will continue to pet when I get back..” You lean down and kiss his head. “Promise.” You stand and walking to Ethan’s recording room. “Hi my love, aren’t you supposed to be recording?” You ask as you run your fingers instinctively through his hair while you stand next to him. He nods looking up at you.

“I am and I’m on a time limit. Mark and I are supposed to be digging up old dirt on each other for the video but I cant find a single thing on him.” You chuckle and pull out your phone giving it a wiggle.

“And you want me to help you dig up something?” He looks up at you with his puppy dog eyes and nods. 

“Pleeeeeease you are like crazy good at looking stuff up.” You playfully roll your eyes.

“I mean how can I say no when you look at me like that.” You take a seat against the wall and start searching, you go through multiple forums and get very deep on Tumblr and Reddit, meanwhile Ethan tries to hold back his giggles at your focus face and he searches through Mark’s old videos. 

“2 minutes babe” You bite your lip and look up at him after your email him a link.

“Eef the only thing I could find that’s content worthy is some girl on Reddit like 5 years ago posted about how at a panel Mark went into the crowd and stepped on her foot by accident. Real or not the way she explained it was really funny and I’m only saying that because in the post she’s laughing as well.” You stand and Ethan grabs your hand pulling you into his lap as he peppers your lips, face, and neck in a bunch of little kisses as he says thank you over and over. You giggle and try to get out of his hold. “Ethan that tickles!” The 30 seconds timer sounds and Ethan lets you go. 

“Seriously thank you, baby, I love you and will see you after we finish recording.” You nod and give him one more quick kiss before returning to the couch where Spenser was laying.

“See I told you I would come back.” He wags his tail and puts his head in your lap ready for more scratches. Ethan comes out about an hour later, you and spencer were unmoved.

“Spencey scoot over” Spencer looks up at Ethan and doesn’t move. “Aww come on Spence it’s my turn to get head scratches.” You laugh at his little pout. 

“Come on spencer get down, we will go on a walk later.” Spencer gets off the couch and gives himself a little shake before going to his bed. Ethan lays down and puts his head on your lap, you smile down at your goofy boy and run your fingers through his hair. “How did it go baby?” Ethan groans.

“Mark found this old site I guess I used to use where people could pay to talk to me, I completely forgot about it.” 

“Did you get a little embarrassed?” Ethan looks up at you/

“Just a little, only because I couldn’t find anything like that on Mark.”

“What did he think about the foot thing?” Ethan laughs 

“We both got a good kick out of it.” He rolls over so he could look at you. “Hey wanna talk we spencer up to that restaurant we like up the street and get some dinner?” You hum and nod

“Yes pleases I’m starving.”

That was the last you guys talked about the video until late in the evening the next day when both of your phones started blowing up. You set down your paintbrush and look at Twitter.

“Uhhh Eef?!”

“I just saw it!!” You meet him in the livingroom having the same thought. He turns on the Xbox and pulls up the most recent Unus Annus video. We google each other to find our darkest forgotten sins. Ethan pressed play and the video starts normally until the boys part ways to look up dirt on each other. From there the video cuts perfectly between Mark giggling to himself about what he’s finding on Ethan, to you and Eef being tooth rottingly adorable. Your relationship wasn’t a secret by no means, you guys posted pictures and videos together but nothing like this. At the end of the video after the timer, it cuts to Ethan attacking you in kisses. The video ends and you both look at each other with big smiles. 

“That was really really cute. Did you approve that?” Ethan shakes his head.

“No Mark approved this video.”

“That was really sweet of him to put that in there.” You lean your head on Ethan’s shoulder. “Ya know we’re a pretty cute couple.” Ethan snorts.

“Yeah baby we really are.”

[pascalpanic]

Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Ten

Summary: you finally get to visit the boys at the embassy. You and Javier finally get to consummate the relationship.

W/C: 6k+ (I’m sorry it’s the FINALE I had to)

Warnings: language as always, mentions of injury, SMUT! (18+ only), oral (m and f receiving), overstimulation if you squint, p in v sex, Javier Peña is his own warning when it comes to sex

A/N: YOU GUYS. this is it! I’m so honored that you guys love it as much as you do. This series was originally only supposed to be a oneshot but I just fell in love. I’m so glad I get to share it with you all! BIGGEST thanks to @remmysbounty for being my Colombian culture expert in this and helping me with my spanish phrases, listening to my ramblings, and generally being my editor and idea helper.

previous chapter | epilogue

“Ana, phone for you,” Lorena calls as you walk past the nurses’ station.

You nod, but you’re carrying a tray of medicine for a patient. “Can it wait?” You ask.

Lorena asks the person and then looks back up at you. “He says it’s quick.”

Sighing, you walk behind the desk. “Will you take this tray for me? Room 429,” you ask, and she nods dutifully, walking off with it after handing the phone to you. You answer the phone with your name, sitting in the chair Lorena was just in.

“Hey, it’s Steve,” a familiar southern voice says from the other end. You panic for a moment, wondering why he called you, but his voice seems relaxed. It can’t be anything too bad.

“Hey, what’s up?” You ask, twirling the phone cord around your finger, leaning forward with your elbows on the desk.

Steve chuckles. “Not much. Just Javi bein’ a dumb fuck.”

“What’s new?” You sigh, but you both know that both of you have affection behind your teasing.

“Exactly,” Steve says in agreement. “Anyway, Javi’s back at work, as you know. The bandage he has is falling off, and he says it’s fine but I know enough from Connie to know that’s not good. She said you get off work soon, would you bring some stuff to the embassy?”

You look at the watch at your wrist. He’s right. You get off at noon, and it’s about 10 right now. “Yeah, of course. Could I bring you guys lunch too? Eat with you?”

There’s a small snort from the other end of the line. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds great. Listen, though, there’s some real shitty guys around here. You’re gonna get hit on and Peña isn’t gonna be happy about it.”

“I’ll be wearing scrubs, Steve. What is there to talk about?” You ask dryly, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“Lonely and horny men desperate for an American woman aren’t above much. Just… lettin’ you know now.”

“I think I can handle it,” you roll your eyes, knowing he can hear it in your tone. “I’ll be there at 12:30 with lunch and supplies for Javi, alright?”

“Sounds good to me. Thank you, kid.”

“I’m, like, a few years younger than you. You act like you’re my dad.”

“Whatever,” he laughs and hangs up the phone.

-

After your shift, you enter Valeria’s diner. Her eyes light up as she sees you, rushing your way. “¡Ay, mi hermosita! ¿Quiubo, chiquita?” She asks, grabbing your arms.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you tell her genuinely with a smile. “I didn’t know if… the bombing, if it affected you. I’m so glad it didn’t.”

“And me with you! Especially that Javier, dios mio,” she shakes her head.

“Actually...” you chuckle a little. It’s a nervous laugh, afraid to tell her what happened. “Javi was injured. He and his partner were very near the bomb. He’s okay now, but he lost a lot of blood and had to have emergency surgery. He’s got a big scar here,” you tell her and trace along your abdomen where his injury was. “He’s back at work already, but he spent a few days in the hospital and about a week or two at home.”

Valeria frowns. “Oh no. I’m glad he‘s alright now. I worried so much about him, but I figured he lived since there were no American casualties.”

You nod. “Exactly. I’m actually on my way to the embassy now, bringing him some bandages, and I wanted to pick up lunch for him and his partner.”

The woman claps her hands together excitedly. “And here I am, blabbering on! I’ll go get an order in for you. What would you like, dear?”

You put in an order that you figure Javi and Steve would both like, waiting contently at a booth Valeria seats you at and sipping a coffee she brought to you.

The little restaurant makes you smile as you think about the memories. Laughing with Javier for hours in the early morning, sharing life stories and experiences. You realize now that you think you loved Javier even then, on the night when you sat a few booths over, wrapped in his leather jacket while his mustache collected little grains of sugar and cinnamon.

Not long after, Valeria comes to your table with two large bags of food. “I couldn’t help myself- I threw a few extra desserts and snacks in. Javier needs to eat more, tell him that I said that and that’s why there’s so much.”

You laugh happily and stand. “Well, thank you. I’ll make sure to pass the message along.”

She takes your payment and hands you a large to-go cup of coffee- you deserve it after such a long shift, she tells you- before sending you on your way. The embassy is a distance away, and you hail a taxi to make your way there. The car fills with the scent of the fresh food, making your stomach rumble. When you arrive, you pay the driver and head inside.

A receptionist sits just inside. “May I help you?” She asks politely and without much interest.

“Uh….” you hadn’t expected this step. “Yes. I’m here for Agents Murphy and Peña?”

She nods, grabbing the phone. She dials a number and talks, making a face of annoyance as she switches to speaking English. She must’ve dialed Steve. She hangs up not long after. “Murphy will be here in a moment,” she tells you with a nod, and you back away to allow the next person to talk with her.

Steve finds you about a minute later. “Hey. That’s a lot of food,” he chuckles as he looks at the large bags you’re carrying.

“I went to Javier’s favorite place. This one waitress there absolutely adores him, so she gave me extra because he doesn’t eat enough,” you inform him with a smile. “She even threw in some free desserts.”

“Jesus. We could feed the whole embassy with those,” he shakes his head, taking one from you to lighten your load.

You walk through hallways and several sets of stairs, before entering the office area and finally reaching the two desks, one messy and one neat. Javier sits at the cluttered one, looking up and eyes lighting as he sees you. “Hey,” he laughs and even dares to smile: a rare sight when he’s at work. “What are you doing here?” He asks, rolling his chair back from his desk and taking your hand.

“Steve said you needed bandages,” you shrug and hold up one of the bags.

He gives him a dirty look and the blonde man simply shrugs, sitting at his own desk.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. What’s all this then?” He asks, referring to the bags you and Steve carry.

You set one on a free space in his desk and untie the top of the bag, setting a takeout container in front of him. “Lunch,” you say simply, opening the styrofoam to release a drift of a delicious smell.

Javier sighs at the scent. “Did you see Valeria then? Is that why there’s so much food?” He asks with a little laugh.

You nod. “Exactly.”

Javier sighs and grabs a fork from the bag. “Here,” he says, pulling you to sit on one of his thighs. You squeal at the movement, laughing and grabbing the desk once you’re seated.

“At least warn me, huh?” You laugh and he steals a quick kiss from you, earning a whistle from a man who walks past.

“Wow, Peña has moved on from fucking the informants,” the man chuckles. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

You both glare at him, though he finds yours more intimidating than Javier’s. “Mm, we’re projecting our sexual frustration, are we?” You ask, taking a bite of food in your mouth with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t worry about us, run on home to the wife who doesn’t want your dick anywhere near her,” you say with a sweet smile, turning back to Javier’s desk and sipping your coffee.

The man walks away with wide eyes and Murphy laughs genuinely. “Holy shit,” he shakes his head and smiles.

“What? It’s clearly true,” you chuckle, looking back at Javier and taking another bite of the food in front of you. He’s got his heart in his eyes, barely managing to hold back a grin.

“I fucking love you,” Javi laughs contently, waiting you to finish chewing. When you do, he kisses you passionately for a moment, releasing you a few seconds later.

“You got some observational skills, kid,” Steve snorts and shoves a bite of food in his face. “We should get you working here.”

You roll your eyes. “What is your thing with calling everyone kid, Murphy?” Javier laughs, and you nod enthusiastically. You were just about to ask the same thing.

Steve opens his mouth to answer but the phone on Javier’s desk rings. “Peña.” He makes several noises of agreement before hanging up a few moments later. “Trujillo needs something. Be right back,” he tells the both of you and presses a kiss to your head. You stand to allow him to, and he kisses your lips quickly before speed-walking up the steps from the bullpen area and out to somewhere else.

You sit back down and both you and Steve continue eating your food. A minute or so later, a woman walks past but stops as she sees you. “Oh my God, Steve, is this Connie?” she asks, leaning against his desk.

“No, this is Peña’s girlfriend. She and Connie work together,” he informs her. Her face sours at the word girlfriend.

You tell the woman your name and shake her hand with a smile. “Peña has a girlfriend? My god,” she laughs lightly. Javier walks back down to his desk and the woman’s eyes light up. You stand so he can sit again. “Javier Peña, all settled down.”

“I don’t know about that,” he chuckles and sits, pulling you back onto his lap. You squeal again at the sudden movement, more so for the amusement of the woman in front of you. Laughing, you steady yourself on his desk. “Javi, warm a girl!” You chuckle, turning around to kiss him quickly. You’d discovered recently that you couldn’t get enough of it now that you were allowed to do it.

The woman shakes her head and chuckles as she walks away, heels clacking on the tile floor of the embassy.

Steve rolls her eyes. “Ah, Carolina. Last woman at the embassy Javi hasn’t fucked, and she’s been going after him for months.”

“Bullshit,” you and Javier say at the same time, laughing and turning around to face him, raising an eyebrow. “Bullshit to the fact that she’s the last woman here I haven’t fucked. Yeah, she’s been all over me,” he admits and nods.

“Well that’s too damn bad for her, isn’t it?” You laugh and offer Javier your cup of coffee.

He takes a swig and sighs. “Goddamn, this stuff tastes good. The coffee here is shit. We really need to do something about that,” he says to Steve, earning a shrug in response as he forks more food into his mouth.

The three of you eat in content silence, Javier keeping one arm wrapped around you as he eats. Steve flips through a file as he munches on his food too.

A couple of minutes later, a stone-faced bald man in army green fatigues walks. He raises an eyebrow as he sees you sitting on Javier’s lap.

You bite the bullet and introduce yourself first, telling him your name and offering a hand to shake. “Javier’s girlfriend.”

Javier chuckles at the man’s confused expression. “Yeah. Ángel, this is Trujillo. We work closely with him and his men. What else do you need?” He asks the man, turning the chair toward him.

“It can wait, I suppose, until after lunch. Wonderful to meet you, ma’am,” Trujillo says before walking off.

Javier shakes his head. “Now I see why the two of you can’t get shit done around here,” you tease and kiss the side of Javi’s head with a smile before taking the last bite of your food.

Not long after, the two men finish eating too. You stand from Javi’s desk. “Walk me out?” You ask him softly, and he nods. “I’ll see you later, Steve. Thanks for the invite,” you chuckle, taking Javier’s hand once you’re both standing.

As you walk through the halls, Javier is smiling. It’s a rare occurrence around the embassy, enough to draw stares. You smile proudly, lacing your fingers together as you walk. “So, Superman. I have a proposal,” you offer, looking up at him with big eyes.

“Shoot.”

“You get off work around six?”

“Sure do.”

“And I don’t work tonight.”

Javier chuckles as he looks down at you. “Where is this going, hm?”

You shrug a little. “All I hear about is how good you are in bed. How good of a lover you are,” you ask, looking up at him with a smirk. “Why don’t you prove it to me tonight, hm?” You ask, fingers tracing the seam where his buttons hold his tight shirt together- just barely.

“Oh god, cariño,” he murmurs. “I don’t know if my body is up to it yet, with the incision and-“

“I’m a nurse, Javi. Your nurse. I know medically that you’re stable by now. As long as it isn’t painful for you, we’re safe,” you tell him with a growing smile. “It’s been a while for you, hasn’t it?” You ask in a low voice, your hand sliding across the bare ‘v’ of his chest, exposed by his low-cut shirt.

“Yeah, it has.” Javier licks his lips as he looks down at you, a growing smile. “Your place. Sound good?”

“I’ve been waiting for this,” you admit with an excited grin, placing a kiss to his cheek as you reach the door. “You bring the protection,” you murmur next to his ear before kissing him softly on the lips. You break away and smile at his dazed face. “I’ll see you tonight. I love you,” You tell him and squeeze his hand.

“Fuck, I love you too, ángel,” Javi smiles and kisses your forehead, opening the door for you. “See you then.”

-

Six o’clock rolls around. You know Javier won’t come right from work, but you wait excitedly anyway. You treated yourself to a long hot shower, cleaning up and waiting. You’re dressed in a wrap dress and nothing else, waiting on the couch and trying to distract yourself with reruns of a telenovela. A bottle of whiskey and two glasses sit on your counter.

Surprisingly, a knock comes at your door around 6:15. You shout for them to enter and it’s Javier. “I thought you didn’t get off until 6:00,” you smirk a little as you look at him, closing the door behind himself.

“Steve covered for me. I left at 5, went home and showered, changed bandages and everything,” he chuckles, locking the door.

You smile and stand, walking over to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “How kind of him,” you chuckle softly, an arm around his waist. “Listen, I thought about it. If you’re still in pain, this can totally wait,” you offer, looking up at him with big and concerned eyes.

“I’ve wanted this from the moment I met you, ángel,” he murmurs, putting both hands on your waist. “Nothing could hold me back now.”

You throw your arms around his neck as Javier’s lips crash against yours, in a deep kiss that wastes no time. You make a soft noise of content against his lips and that spurs him on, his hands roaming all across your body. He breaks away, eyes wild and lips swollen already. “How many times have you cum in one night?” He asks, smirking.

You can’t help but moan in response, kissing him again deeply, your mouth exploring his. He breaks away again. “Answer.”

“Uh… three. On my own. Only once with someone else,” you tell him breathlessly, your brain so wrapped up in him that it’s difficult to think about anything other than him.

“Alright, then four’s the goal,” he chuckles, kissing you deeply and pulling your hips against his. His hands grope your ass and you moan softly.

It’s already the best you’ve ever had and he hasn’t even touched you. The passion and love you have for each other is evident in how deep and intense every little movement is, from the way you drag your nails down the back of his neck to the way he smooths his hands over the curve of your ass, feeling no panties beneath the dress. “Fuck,” he murmurs into your lips.

“My bedroom, please,” you whine, breaking away from him.

He nods, glancing in the direction of the hallway that leads to your room. He catches sight of the bottle of whiskey. “What was that for?” He asks, breathlessly chuckling.

“Confidence,” you admit with a laugh. “Don’t know why I thought I needed it. Not with you.”

“Well, it’ll go perfectly with cuddling in your bed after, hm?” He murmurs, kissing behind your ear. You sigh softly at the feeling and he walks you along to your bedroom, backwards, until you feel the backs of your legs pressed against your bed. “Let’s see what’s under here,” he mumbles breathlessly, kissing at your neck as he frantically fumbles to untie the knot around your waist that holds the wrap dress in place. He’s clearly experienced at removing all kinds of clothing, and you can feel your arousal starting to slide down to your upper thighs.

“Javi,” you whimper, and he swears he’s never heard anything sweeter.

“Oh fuck, dulzura,” he shudders at the way you sound, lifting his head and catching your lips in another intense kiss as he slips the dress off of your shoulders and it falls to the floor. “No bra, no panties,” he chuckles as he looks down, finding your exposed body. “Let’s begin, shall we?” He mumbles, his lips trailing from behind your ear to your neck to your collarbone to between your breasts.

“Please,” you whimper and Javier pushes you to lie down on the edge of the bed, sinking to his knees and spreading your legs. “Javi,” you mumble, gripping your breasts.

He looks up at you and swears he could cum in his pants right now, just from the way you look spread out for him. You’re already dripping and he bites his lip as he takes a long look at you. “Fuck, ángel,” he says with a shudder, unbuttoning his shirt quickly. “Play with your tits for me,” he commands as he slips the shirt off his shoulders, revealing his toned chest and the large gauze bandage covering part of his equally muscular abdomen.

You nod, though it doesn’t do much at this angle, and he finally gives in. His last bit of self control leaves his body as he licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, moaning into you at the way you taste. You whimper and your hips squirm softly before Javier brings a large hand up, pinning you down. “Javi… go slow, please,” you murmur. “It’s… been a while.”

He nods. “I’ll do anything you tell me to,” he breathes out, dark eyes even darker with his widened pupils. He’s just as entranced by you as he was by those heavy drugs in the hospital, his mind foggy from the way you taste. His nose nudges at your clit, causing you to make a soft noise. Javier slips a thick finger inside of you, shuddering at the way your walls flutter around it. “God, that’s gonna feel so good around my dick,” he mumbles, slipping in a second finger and lapping at your clit.

“Fuck,” you whimper as he curves his fingers inside of you, one hand sliding into that dark hair, gripping it. “I lied. You don’t have to go slow, do whatever you want to me,” you shiver and whine out, bucking your hips up only for Javier’s hand to push them back down.

“Patience,” he mumbles, latching onto your most sensitive spot and sucking on it softly. His fingers push in a little deeper and curve against a spot you’ve never been able to reach yourself, wishing you had him to do it. You knew he would, with his reputation. Of course he would. He already feels like he knows every inch of your body, every sensitive little spot he can stroke to drive you wild. You squeal softly at the movement, your back arching. He smirks but continues, not bothering to stop and comment.

You’re already close, and it’s driving you wild, the other hand clutching at the comforter beneath you. “Not gonna last. Feels so good,” you murmur to him, almost ashamed at how quickly he’s going to make you reach your peak.

“Yeah? Tell me about it,” he mumbles into you, his eyes closing in concentration as his tongue works hard against your clit.

“Thought about this all the time. My fingers couldn’t get anywhere near as deep as yours, Javi,” you coo, brow furrowing. “Just wanted you inside of me, doing this to me. I thought about it every night since I met you,” you whimper. “Nowhere near as good- fuck, I’m about to-” you groan but it’s cut off as your orgasm washes over you, making your legs shake and your thighs clench around his head.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the word tumbles from your mouth over and over again as it washes over you. After you come down, there’s a delicious oversensitivity inside of you. Javier doesn’t let up. “Javi,” you murmur softly.

“Gonna get another out of you, ángel,” he murmurs for a moment before going back with renewed intensity. You thought it was perfect before, but the way he continues now allows you to feel every bud on his tongue, every line in his fingerprints inside of you, the way his fingers move at slightly different speeds as they drag against that spot deep inside of you.

Only a few moments pass before you’re there again, whining out his name as you feel something warm gush from deep within you. It’s all too good, all too much, feels like an electric wire threaded through your limbs and core. “Javi,” you shudder as you finally come to your senses. “I- uh, did I just-” you say, eyes widening as you see the damp spot beneath you.

“You sure fucking did,” he smirks, removing his fingers from inside of you and sucking on the two slick digits.

“I’ve never done that,” you admit, biting your lip.

“It means I’m doing something right,” he chuckles a little, sitting up to kiss you softly, slowly. You can taste yourself on his lips and it makes you moan as his tongue probes your mouth ever so gently. “It’s all good, baby. Wanna see if I can make you do that again?” He asks, a cocky grin on his face. “You were promised four.”

You shudder softly, hands on his shoulders. “I was,” you chuckle with the little oxygen left in your lungs. “What do you say…” you trail off, reaching between the two of you and palming at his denim-covered erection, “I take care of you, you get one more out of me, and then we finally fuck, hm?” you ask, recovering your senses.

“How could I say no to that?” he murmurs, kissing you deeply again. You squeeze softly at the bulge, and he makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. “How- I, what do-”

“Lie down up there,” you tell him and nod toward the pillows. When you stand, you tear the comforter off of your bed and toss it aside. “We’ll just have to sleep without that tonight.” He raises an eyebrow. “You are staying the night, right?” You ask, suddenly taken aback.

He nods quickly. “Yeah, yeah.” He pushes down his jeans and boxers and his dick springs free. He’s huge, not overly long but very thick, and you bite down on your lip to hold back a smirk. “Oh, you like this?” he chuckles a little, lying down with his arms above his head.

“Fuck,” you laugh softly, already imagining how he’ll feel inside. “Yeah, I do,” you nod and crawl onto the bed, lying down on your stomach between his spread legs.

You slowly trace a stripe along the underside of him, paying special attention to the frenulum and noticing the way his leg jerks beneath you. Adjusting yourself, you make big eyes up at him as you suck on the head, tracing the tip of your tongue against the little spot. “Fuck, you’re gonna have me cumming in seconds,” he laughs breathlessly. “You’re fucking amazing, baby,” he mumbles, his eyes slipping shut at the feeling. “Wait, stop, stop.”

You do exactly that, looking up at him with wide questioning eyes. “Yeah?”

Javier takes a deep breath and smirks. “You can make me cum with your mouth another time. I want this to be about you. Get up here and sit on my face.”

The boldness of his words makes your mouth fall open into a soft o-shape. You’ve certainly never done that before, but the idea is interesting. “It’ll be good, I promise. I already made you cum twice with my mouth, you know that,” he chuckles, stroking the side of your face.

“But…” Javier is much more experienced than you, you know that, so it must be fine, but there’s a little nagging insecurity inside of you. “What if I squirt again and, like, drown you?” you ask shyly.

Javier looks at you for a second before laughing softly. “No, it won’t. Come here, I can prove it to you if you’d like,” he offers, pushing a wisp of your hair back. The fact that you’re less experienced makes him even harder, if that’s physically possible, and you can feel it in your hand. He wants to do this, and that reassures you. You gulp and nod. “That’s my good girl,” Javi mumbles darkly.

You shudder at his words, your skin prickling. He can feel it. “Oh, you like that,” he murmurs. He scoots to lie flat on his back on the bed. “Come on up here, baby,” he says softly, and you agree.

You straddle his legs and gradually make your way over his body, careful to lift your hips as you pass over the incision. You’re hovering above his chest, looking down at him with the question in your eyes. “What if I like, crush your head?” You murmur and bite your lip.

“If you don’t want to, we won’t,” he mumbles, stroking your thigh. “Do you want to?” he asks.

“Yes,” you nod shyly. You’re not used to being this open about your wants.

“Then let me take care of you,” he murmurs, hands on your hips and pulling you gently. Inviting you onto his waiting lips.

You slide your hips the rest of the way and moan as his tongue finds your clit almost immediately. He moans back, entranced by you already. He puts on a bit more of a show, making loud noises and digging his fingers into your ass. He murmurs something into you but it’s lost in your folds as he lavishes your clit with his attention.

“Okay, I like this,” you admit with a breathless chuckle, moaning at the way his tongue works against you, his mustache tickles you, his nose nudges your clit when his tongue is elsewhere. You’re still hyper-sensitive from earlier, and you can tell. Your orgasm approaches rapidly, faster than it has ever before. You fall slightly forward, bracing yourself against the headboard as the tingling sensation builds.

“Gonna cum,” you warn him, panting heavily, your hands gripping the headboard tight. He makes a noise of approval and the vibrations from it cause you to let go, practically wailing his name. Your toes curl in pleasure, whimpering as it pulses through your body. It leaks from you before you can notice it, squirting into Javier’s mouth. He swallows every last bit of it, moaning at the way you taste.

Javier’s been so patient with you, putting everything about you first. He continues to eat you out as you come down from it. Eventually, you lift your hips, kneeling with your still-dripping pussy over his face. “You gonna fuck me now?” you ask, barely any air in your voice.

“Oh God yeah,” he chuckles, pressing one last kiss to your clit before pushing you over to lie next to him.

“Javi!” You squeal out with a laugh, falling next to him, his face by your legs. You’re giggling as you look over at him, hands on your bare stomach. “What if I would’ve landed on you and hit the incision?” you chide, though you both know it’s joking.

“It’d be worth it,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your knee. He stands with a groan, cracking his neck and grabbing the condom from the pocket of his jeans. He opens it and rolls it over his leaking dick, and you smirk as you look at it, adjusting yourself back where he was lying.

“You sure this’ll be okay with the abs?” you ask him as he walks back to your side, your fingers ghosting over the gauze-covered incision.

He nods. “Yeah. You ready?” He asks, a hand cupping your face to look up at him.

“I’m waiting on the fourth,” you tease, giving his dick a gentle tug and earning a groan. “Now get on top of me and fuck me, Superman,” you say with a seductive smile, licking your lips.

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles softly, propping his arms up on either side of you and nestling his hips between your legs. You can feel his dick pressing against your folds, and you grind your hips up into his. He moans, shivering hard. “Oh fuck. You better know it’s not gonna take long,” he tells you. “Fuckin’ dreamed about this for so long. First time I saw those tits bouncing on the treadmill, your ass when you were doing those squats,” he admits, hand running up your side and pinching a nipple as he finally admires your bare body beneath him.

“Get poetic later, get inside me now,” you beg of him, leaning up and kissing him deeply. He paws at a tit and you whine into his lips, harder when he rolls a nipple between two fingers. “Don’t tease,” you plead, spreading your legs wider.

He finally slides in and swears he’s seeing stars from the second the head is past your entrance. He groans out before he can stop himself, and you involuntarily make a matching sound. “Javier,” you cry, the way he stretches you making your already dripping pussy even wetter.

He nods. “Yeah baby,” he mumbles next to your ear.

“Start moving, I’m ready, come on,” you urge, nipping at his earlobe that dangles just above your lips. He shivers at the feeling and nods, pulling out and pushing back in. The first thrust and he’s already holding back.

He moans your name quietly, starting a slow but steady rhythm, pounding in and out of you. He looks down and bites his lip as he sees the way your tits jiggle with his thrusts. “Oh, ángel,” he groans. You bend up and kiss at his neck, daring to work a mark into the skin. “Yeah, that’s my girl, marking me up. Want that girl at the embassy to see it when I’m at work tomorrow, don’t you?” he grunts, breathing heavily already.

“All mine, no one else’s.”

“All yours, baby,” he nods, thrusting harder. “Give ‘em something to talk about, mark me up,” he groans, his eyes almost rolling back in his head from the feeling. You nod, leaving love bites and hickeys all over the smooth skin of his neck, the skin that smells like aftershave and soap and cigarettes and his sweat.

He reaches a hand between the two of you and rubs circles into your clit in time with the thrusts. “Oh, fuck do I love you, baby,” he groans. “You gonna come again?”

You’re embarrassingly close already, and the fact that he can tell is even hotter. “Yeah,” you whine into the thick column of his neck.

“Good girl, gonna squirt around me?”

“Yeah,” you whimper again, hips grinding against his hand. “Love you so much, Javi.”

“Love you too. Go for it, baby. Do it,” he asks of you, and who are you to deny him of the sensation in the moment? You stop holding back, your walls fluttering around him and your pussy leaking as your whole body tenses.

“Javi,” you cry into his ear, clinging to the back of his head and pulling him down to where you’re now lying flat, limp as a rag doll from his ministrations.

“That’s my girl,” he coos in his gravelly voice, biting down on his lip. “So good, fuck, love you baby,” he grunts in time with sporadic thrusts as he finally spills into the condom, an animalistic cry coming from his throat.

His thrusts slow and he gradually pulls out of you, lying down and pulling you into his side. “Would you believe me if I said that’s the best I’ve ever had?” He pants out, kissing the side of your head.

You drape an arm across him. “It’d be an honor,” you chuckle softly.

“It was,” he tells you honestly, this time kissing your lips. “God, I fucking love you,” he tells you with a dazed smile, eyes slipping shut.

He’s so sexy like this, sweat beaded on his forehead and dark hair stuck to it. He’s fucking beautiful is what he is, like a work of art with those swollen lips and the developing bruises on his neck. He’s your personal masterpiece. You’ve done all of those things to him, made him fill that condom, hell, you put those stitches in yourself before he left the hospital. He’s fully and truly yours. “I love you too, Javi,” you tell him, pressing your lips together in a smile as your eyes water.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks quickly as his eyes open.

“I just love you so much,” you admit with a watery voice. “That was the best I’ve ever felt, and you let me ask stupid questions, and you did this all even though I thought you were gonna bleed out in my arms a couple of weeks ago.” You bury your face where his chest meets his arm, the tears freely running.

“Ángel,” he coos and kisses your head. “You are the entire world, you know that? You saved my fucking life, not just from the shrapnel. I would’ve drank and smoked and worked myself to death if you didn’t come in.”

“And I would’ve died from that cold,” you add with a weak giggle.

“And you would’ve died from that cold,” he chuckles and lifts your head. “I love you so much. No solo como te quiero, como te amo.”

There’s a difference in the way Spanish speakers say “I love you” that native English speakers cannot understand. We say I love you to our dogs, to our partners, to our sisters and parents and to our lovers and spouses. It’s all the same way to say it: I love you. In Spanish, there is te quiero and te amo. Javier might say te quiero to his father, to Connie when she brings him food during a rough hangover. Never in his life has the man said te amo and meant it. Not to Lorraine, not to any girl he ever held in his arms as he pounded her senseless. Never, except to you.

And you can feel it in the way he presses a tender kiss to your face, in the way a tear drips from his eye and onto your forehead. He loves you in the way that inspired the greatest artists to write sonnets and plays and make beautiful art, the way that Escobar would do anything, would kill for his beloved Tata, the way Romeo and Juliet loved and fell hard and didn’t care about the repercussions and died for love of each other.

“Javi,” you coo, looking into his big brown eyes that are brimming with tears. “Te amo también, te amo, y nunca lo olvides.”

thanks for reading!

-

translations:

quiubo- what’s happening, what’s up

Chiquita- girl, girlfriend

dulzura- sweetheart

Y nunca lo olvides- and don’t you ever forget it.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @diogodxlot @wonderlandgabby @yooforia @sara-alonso @dodgerandevans @pedrosmustache @apascalrascal @tanyaherondale @marydjarin @obsessivelysearching @sleep-tight1 @drinkingwhileblogging @pedro-pastel @notabotiswear @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan

[skiller0dani]

More | Ethan Nestor

M A S T E R L I S T YouTube Masterlist

smut requested requests info Part 1

lately ethan is the only thing that brings a smile to my face. thank god he exists. thank god he was born. 

“Yeah, we’re just friends.” Ethan said with a shrug, adamantly avoiding Mark’s doubtful gaze. That’s the agreement you and Ethan made, you could fool around all you wanted but you were just friends. Lately, the lines felt more blurred than they had in the past, but you were still just friends. 

“Uh-huh.” Was all Mark said, but Ethan pretended not to hear him. 

Ethan didn’t know what kind of answer Mark wanted to hear, all he could tell him was the truth. No matter how painful the truth is, and painfully you and Ethan are just friends. From the first kiss, the first touch Ethan knew this was a terrible idea. Instead of outright admitting how he feels about you, he continues to go along with friends with benefits. 

He loves being able to fuck you, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t want more than that. “What?” Ethan can’t stop the word as it pushes free from the confines of his mouth. Mark smirks. 

“Nothing.” 

“It’s definitely not nothing.” 

“Don’t you think it’s time you asked Y/N on a date?” Mark blurted, his hands fixing the lens as he set up the camera in front of his desk. Without meaning to, Mark presses record and fully intends to stop recording immediately when a horribly wicked thought crosses his mind. You are one of their video editors. 

“W-Why would you think that?” Ethan felt a blush crawling up his neck, he and Mark didn’t have conversations like this. 

“I know how you feel about her, you’re being a pussy.” There’s a smile on Mark’s face that lets Ethan know he’s only joking. Sort of. A nervous chuckle escapes Ethan’s lips before he can stop it, and he’s pulling at the collar of his black and white splattered t-shirt. Which coincidentally, you gave him for his birthday this year. 

“She said just friends.” Ethan sighs, knowing there’s no point lying to Mark. 

It was your idea to be ‘just friends’, you had suggested it first. That’s what keeps stopping Ethan from trying to be more, why would he when you said to his face you wanted to be just friends? 

“She said that just in case you didn’t feel the same way dude.” Mark rolled his eyes, never did he think he’d be coaching Ethan on how to communicate with a girl. Ethan shook his head, itching the back of his neck as he turned back to Mark’s desktop. Mark hoped he didn’t notice the camera recording. He didn’t. 

Deep down Mark knows that Ethan isn’t going to do anything no matter what he says to him. “Do you have feelings for her?” He asks, watching Ethan desperately avoid making eye contact with him. 

“Yeah.” 

“Then it’s worth a shot.” Mark shrugs, turning to grab for the mouse. His eyes looking into the lens as he reaches up to ‘hit record’ on the camera. Mark wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t for Amy informing him on your enormous crush on Ethan. 

It was late when Ethan finally made it back to his apartment, and to his surprise he still found you curled on his couch where he left you that morning. You had a book nestled in your lap and Spencer curled at your feet, it made a warm feeling blossom in Ethan’s chest. “Hey.” 

He smiled upon hearing your voice. “Hey, I’m surprised you’re still here.” 

You blushed. 

“You have good books that you never read!” You explain with a pink blush dusted across your cheeks. Ethan kicked off his shoes with a smile, leaning over to press a quick kiss to your forehead. He wants you to be here waiting for him to get home all the time. He wants you to be waiting for him like this, not some other guy. He wants more. 

“Mind if I stay tonight?” Your question is hesitant, but instead of answering Ethan worms his way under your book and lays his head in your lap. “Have I ever?” 

He thinks about what Mark said earlier, and Ethan wishes he had the guts to outright tell you how he feels. He wished he could, but he’s not nearly brave enough for that. He knows the way he feels about you is more than a crush, it’s more real, more raw than that. He remembers all the times you’ve been there when he desperately needed you, all the times you’ve laughed at a dumb meme at 2 in the morning. Those gentle moments in the pale moonlight, those moments after sex but before sleep. When he rolls over and looks at you, and you smile shyly at him, your hands intertwined. Ethan knows your body like the back of his hand, he wants to know your heart like that. 

When Ethan first started this with you, he and Mika had just broken up. He needed someone, needed to feel someone against him. You were there when he needed you, and then the lust turned into something more. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, but it did and now it was consuming his every waking thought. 

You continue reading your book, your fingers aimlessly combing through Ethan’s hair. “Gonna put me to sleep.” 

You look down at Ethan to see his eyes have fluttered shut, and he’s fully nuzzled into your lap. Your heart feels like it grows 10 sizes, but you’re just friends. Friends do stuff like this...right? Before you think twice, you’re leaning over and pressing your lips to Ethan’s Spiderman style. When you pull back, Ethan’s eyes are open and focused on you. Ethan sits up when you shift under him, and his eyes widen in surprise when you sink to your knees in front of the couch where he’s sitting. 

“What are you doing?” He swallows thickly, feeling his cock already hardening in his jeans. You smile shyly, you’ve never initiated anything sexual before. It was always Ethan making the first move. “W-Well I wanted to do something nice for you. You worked all day today.” 

Ethan leaned back against the couch as your hands fumbled with his belt, before finally unbuckling it. Your hands unbutton his jeans before your hand delves into his boxers, your fingers wrapping around the hard shaft. Ethan spreads his knees apart further to allow you more room, a soft hiss escaping his mouth when you finally free him from the confines of his jeans. 

“Y/N you don’t have to-” The protest dies in his throat when you take him into your mouth, your tongue snaking under his shaft along the vein that runs all the way down to the base. His head falls back against the couch as you continue to slowly work him down your throat. Eventually one of Ethan’s hands winds into your hair, but he doesn’t tug your head. It’s more that he needs something to hold onto. Soon your nose nestled against Ethan’s pelvis, and you hear him groan softly when you swiftly pull off him. You smiled up at him, and when Ethan looked down at you his pupils engulfed most of his eyes. 

You stood and pressed a kiss to his lips, “I have to go edit the video from today. Be back in an hour or two.” 

“I thought you said you were going to do something nice!” You hear him groan loudly as you leave the room and you can’t help but laugh. 

You sit at the computer, the video pulled up in the editing software. You hear something frying in the living room so you can only assume Ethan is making dinner. Your heart races in your chest, this doesn’t feel like just friends anymore. Ethan lets you stay the night, in fact you’re over here basically every night of the week. He holds your hand, cooks for you, randomly gives you kisses. You don’t want to be friends anymore, you need to be more than that. You try to shake the thoughts from your head when you hit play. 

The conversation you hear stops you dead in your tracks. 

“Do you have feelings for her?” 

“Yeah.” 

You almost feel guilty listening to their private conversation, but when Mark looks into the lens you know it was intentional. You see the blush on Ethan’s face, you see the small smile pulling at his lips when he admits his feelings for you. Ethan has been your best friend ever since he moved to LA, and even when he was with Mika your heart raced whenever he entered the room. You felt tears pushing at the backs of your eyes, he actually feels the same way! 

Your heart races at a million miles an hour as you stand on shaky legs. All this time you thought he didn’t want more, you thought that he was content being just friends. Your heart races and happiness blooms wildly in your chest. A smile stretches across your face before you can stop it. You push out of Ethan’s office and nearly stumble as you stand numbly in the kitchen. You stand quietly and watch him for a moment, humming to himself as he continues to cook dinner. Your chest warms, you want this with him. You want it all the time, you want to be able to kiss him in public and brag because yeah he’s yours. You want sex to mean something between you two, you want it to be more than just getting off. 

“Ethan?” Your voice is shaky, as you watch him stir some pasta in a pot. 

“Hm?” 

You have so many things you want to say, but when Ethan turns to look at you it all completely unravels. His eyebrows furrow together once he sees the tears in your eyes, but there’s a smile on your face. Your mind goes blank as you look into his eyes, the tender concern laced in them as he watches you cautiously. You know what you want to say, and you know that saying it could change everything between you two forever but that’s what you want. You want things to change forever. You can’t live in limbo like this with him anymore, you need more. A tear drifts down your cheek, and Ethan has a confused and worried look on his face. 

“I love you.” The words come out softer than you thought, and for a second it felt as though time stood still. You see something flash in his eyes, and you smile wider before taking a few steps towards him. “I love you Ethan.” You whisper as you reach him, your arms winding around his shoulders. You feel immense relief as the words free themselves from your mind, finally being out in the open between you. Ethan blinks in confusion before swiftly pressing his lips against yours. The desperation that is normally laced in every kiss isn’t there this time. This time, the kiss is soft, and slow, and tender. It makes you feel weak in the knees. 

His hand reaches to turn off the stove as his other one cups your cheek to deepen the kiss. Ethan’s eyes are closed tightly, as are yours and you know your cheeks are wet with tears. “I love you Y/N.” His voice wavers and you press your lips to his once more, and soon Ethan’s hands are pulling your thighs up to lift you off the ground. He walks you through his apartment before you feel his soft sheets against your back, and he finally pulls away from you. Ethan brushes his nose against yours as he smiles down at you. Your hands slide under his shirt, pulling it off his body as you go. You lean up to press kisses to his collarbones, drawing out soft sighs from him as you go. 

Ethan’s hands reach for your leggings, slowly pushing them down as your lips find a tender spot of his neck. You bite down, and you hear Ethan groan as his hands pull your panties down next. His hand drifts up your body, past where you need him and up your stomach. You lay back against the pillows when his hands pull his shirt you took over your head. This isn’t just sex anymore, you’re in love with him. His bulge rocks into your bare core through his jeans and you whimper before reaching down to quickly pull his jeans down his legs. Luckily he never put his belt back on. Ethan’s forehead rests against yours as his boxers join his jeans on the ground and your hand is deftly stroking him. 

Ethan rests on his elbows, and for the first time you can really feel his body against yours as you continue to pump him slowly with your hand. “Jesus stop, keep teasing me like that and I’ll fucking cum.” Ethan groans, eliciting a giggle from you. Ethan reaches down and runs his fingers through your folds, a loving tenderness in his eyes as he positions his head at your entrance. You press your lips against his, and your lips move together slowly as Ethan slides into you with one swift thrust. You gasp against his lips, your nails digging into his bare shoulders. Your toes curl as Ethan slowly pulls out before rocking back into you tenderly. 

He sets a soft and gentle pace, his thrusts going deep and slow. You moan softly as you rock against him, your lips never leaving his. Ethan keeps his slow and loving pace, causing your entire pelvis to heat up. The way he looks at you when he finally parts from you, that look in his eyes nearly brings tears to your eyes. It makes you feel like he really does love you. “Fuck Ethan-” You cry out softly, holding him tighter to you when his pace picks up a little. His hand drifts in between your bodies and presses against your clit, and as soon as it does you’re cumming around him. Ethan offers a few more weak thrusts before he’s cumming inside you. 

When he pulls out of you he rolls over to lay next to you, a boyish smile on his face. You press your lips to his once more, winding your arms around his waist. 

“I love you.” You can’t help but say it again, you just want to say it over and over again. Ethan presses a kiss to your forehead with an easy smile on his face. “I know, I love you too.” 

“What made you tell me?” Ethan brushed a hand through your hair as you laid your head on his chest. You smiled shyly. 

“Mark left your little conversation at the beginning of the video he sent me today.” As soon as the words left your mouth, Ethan blushed. 

“Jerk.” You couldn’t help but laugh, and finally it felt like everything in your life finally fell into place. 

[bangtae-sohotddaeng]

we’ll be counting stars | k.th. | 4

(^ gif cred: ON THE VOYAGE | pinterest)

pairing: idol!Taehyung x publisher!Reader

rating: nc-17 (for language and themes)

summary: You’d sworn off love and relationships forever. You were here to do your job - work with the biggest boyband of the world. Not forge friendships and...and whatever it was that you and Taehyung were building up with these sneaky glances. It was, to be very fair, your Chief Editor’s fault that you’d landed in this mess. Maybe you should quit your job? Maybe you should quit life -

Oh, he was staring again, and did he freaking lick his lips?

warnings: swearing (reader’s got a potty mouth) + this is set like 5 years in the future + reader has emotional issues, she's a relationship phobe + mentions of weed

genre: so much ANGST ugh + fluff + comedy + some crack

words: 4.6 k

note: hey, y'all. i know i've been awol and i'm really sorry about it, but, well - first i went back to uni for a while and got busy with my classes and my boyfriend. but this lasted for, like, barely three weeks, and then i came back home and got covid. yep, i finally got unlucky. my parents got it, too, after me, and the three of us had been home quarantined and getting treated for the past month or so. we're in better health now, though, so i'm getting back into writing. here's hoping i pick up speed super quick! 💜

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series masterlist

gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

Your first week of heading this project with all its roadblocks and exhaustion, as it turned out, had merely been a taste of what was to come.

Your Wednesday at work began on a positive note, though. 

Towards the middle of the day, your phone rang, making both you and Jungkook jump. 

Cursing, you pursed your lips at Jungkook apologetically, and fished the device out. He nodded at you with a chuckle. 

Looking at your phone screen, you realised this was a call you'd been waiting for.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m calling to inform you that we’re done.”

Your eyebrows immediately hiked up your forehead. “Wow, really? That’s great news!”

“Yeah, the cleaners will be in tomorrow morning. You can move in by tomorrow evening.”

You actually grinned. “That’s such fantastic news! Thank you so much, Mister Lin. I’ll initiate your payment later, today.”

“Anytime, ma’am. Thank you.”

You disconnected the call with a happy sigh. Jungkook squinted at you. “That sounded like a fun conversation.”

You nodded, smiling. “Our team is moving into an apartment, tomorrow.”

“Wow! You’ve been in the hotel for what, ten days now? Must feel nice!” Jungkook’s eyes sparkled.

You nodded with a sigh, shutting your eyes in relief. “Oh, yes. We’d made reservations at the hotel for fifteen days. We had to move into the apartments within this week. This feels so amazing. I’ll finally be able to prepare my own food.”

Jungkook giggled at that, scrunching his nose up. “Where’s the apartment? Hope it isn't too far.”

“Oh, no, it’s a few blocks away from here. Which is why we had to book a hotel in the first place. We needed two four-bedroom apartments on the same floor, in this specific radius, in three days.” You paused to laugh when Jungkook’s jaw dropped with a gasp. “It was a very hard find. But our agent was sharp, he did a great job.” You clapped your hands together. “I cannot wait to check out of the damn hotel.” 

Jungkook nodded in understanding. “Hotels are hard. It could be a seven star luxurious penthouse, but you’d still wanna run away from it after a while.” 

He seemed to be speaking from his personal experience, but running away from a seven star luxurious penthouse? You couldn’t relate. You hated your hotel because the curtains weren’t dark enough and the mattress was stiff and you couldn’t afford getting any of them changed. You also hated having to order Chinese every single day, but you also knew you’d be emptying your bank account if you got anything else.

None of this would trouble someone living in a seven star’s penthouse. But you didn’t want to make Jungkook uncomfortable by stating any of this when he was just trying to be a bit compassionate and empathetic.

“Food doesn’t bother me that much, though,” Jungkook continued after a thoughtful pause. “We’re usually either on diets or order takeout. I personally hate the mattresses.”

“Oh yes,” you sighed deeply, the kink in your upper back in absolute agreement. “I’m not really a fan of sleeping anywhere other than my mattress back at home, but hotel beds are the worst of it.”

Jungkook chuckled, nodding. “I completely understand. You remember that story I told you about lugging my beddings over to our dorm when we first moved into one?”

You nodded with a laugh. “Oh, yes. The rest of the boys were getting new mattresses, and you were busy dragging your mattress from your parents’ house. It may sound hilarious, but it’s actually very relatable.”

Jungkook looked a bit bashful as he nodded. “You know, when we first started preparing for our first tour, I had a half a mind to take it with me.”

You barked out a loud laugh at that, the mental image of Jungkook dragging a seven by four piece of bedding around and stuffing it into trailers. He laughed, too.

“Yeah, it was funny and really stupid. Half the time we didn’t even get to sleep in the bed we had taken with us, but whenever we did, I was nodding off the second my head hit the pillow.” Jungkook’s eyes sparkled as he went down the memory lane. “That one was nothing in comparison to the tours we go on now, but it was our first ever experience so it was still pretty difficult adjusting, Tour schedule is a different level of hectic, you know? You don’t have time to eat, you don’t have time to sleep. Just rehearsals and fittings and sound checks. I would fall asleep in makeup chairs,” he confessed with a chuckle, shaking his head fondly, “and when noona would wake me up, I would recall how I wanted to bring my mattress here. Such naivete.”

You smiled, nodding along. You hadn’t yet gotten to the tour discussion yet, as it was planned out for the third month of your blueprint, so all of this was brand new to you. But, at this moment you didn’t want to bring up plans and blueprints. Jungkook was compassionately being candid with you. You were becoming friends, beyond your professional boundaries.

Sighing, you decided to impart something personal, too. “When I moved to the States and got into this company, I rented the apartment with an old friend who was already living there. And it wasn’t my first time living in a house away from my parents. I’d been a university student, lived in dorms then rented apartments, both solo and shared.” Jungkook looked at you pensively, nodding with a little furrow in his eyebrows. “But when I got to this apartment, got all this brilliant furniture set up, all new and fresh, I couldn’t sleep. I missed my home.” Jungkook’s eyes softened, lips pressing down into an understanding smile. “Not the dorm, not the studio I’d been renting—I missed my childhood bed.” You exhaled, recalling all your sleepless nights. “There's this connection you build with the place you call home. I’m sure you must have started to feel this way about your dorms as time went on.”

Jungkook softly smiled, nodding as he looked into space. “Very correct. Tour life made me realise this exact fact.”

You both sat in a few minutes’ quiet, basking in the nostalgic atmosphere you’d built around you.

Then Jungkook grinned at you. “Now you’ll get to experience real Seoul life.”

You laughed. “Oh, yes. And I honestly can’t wait for it. The local markets, the grocery stores, everything. Everything here is very unlike home.”

“I’m sure you’ll love it!” Jungkook exclaimed, wiggling his eyebrows smugly.

You went back to work soon after, with Jungkook tossing in questions about your move and suggestions about what all you should do in the city, every now and then.

It was a good, productive, joyous day. You were hardly even tired when you got back to your hotel to spend your last night on that stiff ass mattress.

Thursday had started off pretty much the same, except for you guys taking a slightly early departure to spare some extra time to set your new place up after your belongings were moved.

By late night, you were all settled in two, pleasant, well-furnished, well ventilated four-bedroom apartments, next to each other. Your housemates consisted of Sana and Simon. Needless to say, you weren’t a fan. But you needed a room to build the office in and you preferred it to be under the same roof as your bedroom because you tended to work odd hours when you couldn’t sleep. Simon and Sana volunteered to share the apartment with the office and you, so you didn't exactly have room for complaint.

From getting the apartment cleaned one last time to accept you all, to ensuring none of you had left anything significant behind in your hotel rooms—you didn’t trust the hotel staff enough to not misuse it if they found anything related to BTS in one of your rooms—you had been the one that took care of it all. It was kinda on you, because you didn’t trust anyone from your team to do the latter responsibly. So, quite naturally, you were dead on your feet by the time you got into your soft as a cloud beddings at nearly 3 o’clock in the morning. Sleep pulled you in the seconds you rugged your covers up.

You were very dead on your feet when you got to the BTS dorm, five hours after you’d gotten into bed. You hadn’t had a drop of alcohol in your system for more than a few weeks, now, but man did you have a hangover.

So it goes without saying that when you bumped into someone on your way to Jungkook’s studio, your eyes were half shut. You wouldn’t have thought much of it and might have slinked away with a mumbled apology, if not for the familiar voice than greeted you.

“Good morning. Looks like you had a rough night?”

You blinked, miles away from sleep within a second when your eyes met a familiar pair of brown ones. Taehyung was dressed in the routine BTS loungewear that consisted of a pastel t-shirt that was one too many sizes bigger on him and dark sweatpants that covered his feet. His hair was the usual black and curly, mostly pulled away from his forehead with a few tendrils dangling over his brows.

Your interaction with him had been meagre throughout this week, only consisting of respectful nods of greetings and waves of goodbyes. You’d meant to ask him how Simon was doing and how he felt about his ideas being taken now, after you’d had a talk with Simon about it. But you didn’t know what you would do if he said he was hating how things were and wanted you to do something about it. So you had kept your mouth shut and watched from the sidelines as you tried to gauge Taehyung’s inner feelings by his facial expressions. 

He was an extremely closed off guy, never really letting his face show what he was truly feeling. But sometimes you would catch him looking into space as if he was zoning out of his conversation with Simon. Now, he could very well be thinking deeply about something Simon said—you really couldn’t be sure with the guy. But it had you worried, nevertheless.

God. Why did Simon have to pick out Taehyung’s name?

By the time you realised you’d been staring at him for too long, he had realized it too. “Anything wrong with my… hair?” he innocently questioned, threading his fingers through the front of it.

“No!” you yelped, making him flinch. “I mean, no, it’s not that. I, um. We were moving into our apartments last night and it got kinda late. My brain’s processing things a bit slow, today.”

Taehyung chuckled at that, nodding with his teeth on display. “It’s okay. Congratulations on the move. Hotels suck.”

You sighed. “Tell me about it.”

Awkward silence hung over the two of you as you looked at the floor, at your feet, at his feet, tried to discern if his pants were very dark gray or blue, cleared your throat, scratched your ear, met his shifty eyes again— 

“How…how is working with Jungkook?”

His question caught you off-guard. You looked at him in surprise. “Uh…it’s, um. It’s good. Very comfortable, very productive. It’s great, actually.”

Taehyung nodded, pursing his lips as he looked down again. “Simon has been a better listener this week. Did you talk to him?”

A weight was lifted off your shoulders on hearing that. You grinned at him with all your teeth. “Really? That is really good to know. Comforting, even. I did talk to him, yes.”

Taehyung looked into your eyes as his lips spread into a slow, soft smile. “Thank you so much for doing this for me. I thought you would think I was stupid for demanding so much, but…” He shrugged his shoulder, one corner of his lips ticking farther up his cheek. “You made it work. I feel so much better now.”

You exhaled, willing your heart to not beat so fast. It was your job to ensure they were all comfortable, this was part of what you were getting paid for. But somehow, the way Taehyung seemed to have taken it so personally made you not wanna mention the fact in the moment.

Also, he didn’t know how this wouldn’t last. You’d been giving Simon tips to handle himself professionally around Taehyung, literally every single day. It kept the wheel running, but it was tiring both of you out, immensely. Simon was out of his element and you were getting slowly overwhelmed and under-rest due to the amount of responsibilities piling on for you. You were determined to talk this out with your boss, this Sunday, and find a way out before you broke.

Right now, though, you gave Taehyung a bashful smile. “I wanted you to be comfortable and feel good about working on this project, Tae. I am constantly working out plans to better it.”

Taehyung looked at you with so many emotions swimming in his eyes, that the intensity of it almost made you wanna look away. But you didn’t. Instead, you tried to decode what any of it could mean. 

This time the silence between you two was not awkward in the least. It was charged—heavy with this unknown tautness between your mind and heart and this indecipherable look in Taehyung’s eyes.

“Tae?”

The trance was broken by Jin, startling both of you.

He walked into the halfway from behind Taehyung, peering around him with a frown. His eyes widened when he saw you. You immediately bowed, always extremely cautious about being respectful around BTS’ oldest member. “Good morning, Jin-ssi.”

He chuckled at your address, insisting that you didn’t have to bow every single time. “Just the respectful good morning is fine. Did you just get here?”

You nodded, subtly glancing at Taehyung whose eyes were slightly rounded and still stuck on you. Why was he acting like you two were caught by Jin? You’d just been greeting each other and catching up!

Right?

Right.

“Ah! There comes Riya!” Jin suddenly announced the arrival of his partner on your team, cutely waving at someone behind you.

Your teammate Riya walked into the hallway after you, having walked here on her own insistence. “Good morning, Jin-ssi. Taehyung-ssi. Boss.”

You smiled at her, nodding in acknowledgement of the respect she paid. “Where’s Simon?” you questioned.

“Just here!” the man himself responded, rushing in after Riya. 

You met Taehyung’s eyes, and he nodded with a meaningful look and a small smile on his lips. Your heart felt light.

The unexpectedly happy and positive start you’d gotten in the morning lasted with you the whole day, making your time with Jungkook a lot fun, and fulfilling in terms of work, too.

When Sunday came in and you received your boss’ call, her first question was about how well you were settled in the apartments, followed by how you’d handled things with Simon. You had done a decent job on the former, but the latter was gradually turning out to be a pain in your ass. You told your boss as much.

“Drag it out for another week, and then design a change of gameplan. If he really isn’t doing a good enough job by himself, it’s better if he works with someone else. This whole charade will tire both of you out. And V would be facing issues, too, if Simon’s heart isn’t into it.” Your boss had looked at you solemnly through the computer screen.

“Simon’s heart’s a bit too much into it, boss, that’s the whole issue.” You had derisively chuckled at your joke, but her words had left you thinking into the late hours of the night.

Taehyung had definitely been facing issues, you’d heard it from the man himself. And the respite he thought he’d gotten this week was momentary, because neither you nor Simon could honestly keep up with it for too long. And it was very unfair to Taehyung. This book was supposed to showcase a part of all the boys. A biography was the culmination of one’s whole life—something very personal, precious and endearing. The process of its creation should have been a similar experience for the boys, too.

You really would have to assign someone else to Taehyung.

On Monday morning, you knocked at Simon’s door at seven.

“Just this week, and then you switch,” you told him.

“Really? Oh, my God, thank you so much!” Simon cried out.

“Please accommodate him the best you can.” You sighed. “I’m too tired to give you notes everyday. Will you be able to manage?”

“I’ll accommodate him the best I can, just as you said.”

You hadn’t taken his word for it, but it seemed like the knowledge of his misery ending soon had done Simon well. He did a fair job of maintaining his professional composure, and on Tuesday, when you went in to grab a cup of coffee from the kitchen, you saw the two of them laughing about something, too. Taehyung had politely greeted you, exchanging more than a nod for the first time in more than ten days—minus that one altercation in the hallway, of course—and then immediately went back into the discussion.

He seemed to be really into it.

It made you feel a lot better. 

On Friday, you and Jungkook went for a walk by the pool in the late afternoon with a cup of ice cream in your hands. He brought up Taehyung, asking how the elder was doing.

“You told me he was having some trouble with his partner?” Jungook asked, biting into a huge glob of chocolate ice-cream like a maniac and braving the brainfreeze with a straight face.

You grimaced at the sight. Then exhaled, plopping a spoonful from your own ice cream into your mouth. “He’s doing a lot better, now. It might not last, though”

Jungkook, instead of quizzing your ominous statement, nodded in understanding. “Does it have something to do with what I told you about hyung’s personality?”

You sighed. “Pretty much. We might have to change his partner.”

Jungkook paused at that. “Is there a possibility that…” He trailed off, confused, doe eyes looking at you.

You couldn’t lie to him. You shrugged. “Everything’s on the plate.”

On Sunday evening, you decided to gather the team for the call with your boss. Sending them a quick message once you all got home, you hopped into the bathroom for a long, relaxing showe. 

When you came back, you stepped into your office to the welcome sight of your team occupying bean bags and chairs and spread across the entire surface area of the place.

Collectively, you all brought up Taehyung’s partner with the Editor-in-Chief.

“Why don’t you do it, Y/N?” your boss questioned you after the rest of them had briefed her with their progress so far and detailed out their future plans with their assigned boys.

You sighed. “I have been doing just as great as the rest of them, boss. It wouldn’t be ideal for me to stop working with Jungkook after we’ve been making such great progress.”

Your boss took her glasses off, the highlight on her nose glistening as her movement caught light. She shook her and then sighed. “One of you is going to have to make a sacrifice.”

Simon, rightfully, flinched with a guilty face.

“So either you talk one of your team members into doing it, or you do it yourself. You’ve got one whole week to discuss it. Tell me what you decide, next Sunday.”

You kept tossing and turning in your bed. You’d either have to force one of your team members. Or you’d have to disappoint Jungkook. Your prospects really weren't looking good. 

You would like to believe you and Jungkook had become friends in these three weeks. It is impossible to remain a stone-faced stranger with someone literally relaying the story of his entire life to you. And besides that, too, Jungkook was a very likeable guy. He was a curious soul with a myriad of interests. Taking notes on literally every topic would always branch out into an enthusiastic conversation between the two of you. 

Sighing as you recalled how the two of you had shared your roller-skating experience with each other just today, you shut your eyes and decided to finally go to sleep.

On Monday morning, your team members were gathered in your new office to begin with the scripting process of the biography. As you got down to comparing notes and checking off boxes, each one of you resolutely ignored the gigantic elephant in the room—that fact that one of you would not be working with the same person when this week was up.

Strangely, this forcible change of partners was weighing down on all of you not just because of how much more labour it would cost, but on an emotional level, too. Which was a very unfamiliar concept, at least to you. You never got attached to clients, knowing it would only cause hindrances when you had to criticize their work—which was why they were talking to you in the first place. You had been somewhat lucky too, in a way, because it wasn't easy for you to get attached to people.

But Jungkook turned out to be just a really easy person to get along with. You really had become friends.

This, you suddenly realised, would also mean that Jungkook would make friends with another partner just as easily.

“Guys, remember—it’s not just their story that we’re writing, it’s ours too!” you announced to your team, clapping your hands to raise their spirits as the six of them worked on their computers. “They’re the narrators, sure, but we are the writers. Use your words wherever you find fit, do not hesitate to trim, omit or add. This is what we were hired to do.” 

At noon, you all ordered takeout and took a break.

“We’re all really on schedule, boss,” Riya, Jin’s partner, spoke up from her spot across the room from you. Her rounded eyes narrowed suddenly, and she winced. “Well… except Simon, but we kinda already expected that.”

Simon, seated on a bean bag to your immediate right, cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“You’ve been really shitty at your job, Si,” Areum, Jimin’s partner, commented, looking at Simon through her round framed glasses, her face displaying disappointment.

“He really has,” you added. “But it cannot go on like this. You’ll have to be really professional with your partner, this time round, Simon. You’ve really done a lot of damage with Taehyung. Boss won’t just pull you off the project if something like this happens again, she’ll fire you.”

Simon visibly gulped, nodding with his wide eyes fixated on you.

“So, who’s gonna take his place?” Nathan, Yoongi’s partner, butted in, prompting Sana to stop stretching. “Have you decided yet?” he asked you.

You exhaled. “Why not ask dear Simon who he wants to work with? The last time he kept protesting about the assigned choice, and I didn't listen. Maybe he’d have done better if the selection of his partner was voluntarily done by him.”

All eyes turned to Simon. He cleared his throat, looking beyond nervous. “Please don’t put me in this spot. One of you will have to let go of a month’s worth of hard work for me, as it is.”

You looked around the room. “Any one of you willing to switch?”

Five pairs of eyes turned to look at you incredulously. “No one’s gonna willingly give their research up for you, Simon,” Charlotte, the only redhead on your team and Hoseok’s partner, spoke with a roll of her eyes. “None of us.”

“Simon,” You sighed. “Choose.”

And then Simon squeezed his eyes shut and fisted both his hands to whisper, “Jungkook…maybe?”

Of fucking course.

Later that night, you had calmed yourself down enough to tell yourself that everything was gonna be okay. You could be a darn hardass professional when you needed to be. In fact, being humble and empathetic was usually what posed a challenge to you. You would very smoothly transition into working with Taehyung, you were sure of it.

You belatedly thought about how much change these past three weeks had already brought about in your nature. You were starting to show a lot more compassion than you’d thought yourself capable of. That kind of came in this job’s description, because biographies made people vulnerable, and vulnerable interviews required compassion. 

You had to unlearn some of the things you’d picked up over the span of your adult life to save yourself from hurt, and also the guilt that came with hurting others. Jungkook also helped, in a way. His openness and just the overall cheerful vibe that his nature eluded made you want to be more of a friend to him than a writing guide or an interviewer.

You wondered how Taehyung would be. 

There was something undeniably intense and mysterious about him. Now, you weren’t naive enough to want to “unravel” the guy’s mysteries, but you sure were irked and curious. Maybe he was one of those kinds of artists that literally lived in their art.

Back when you didn’t work in this company with this hectic schedule and had enough spare time on your hands to write, you used to pride yourself to be one of these kinds of artists, too. You lived in your stories, kept building characters up wherever you went, whatever you did. You wondered if it was something similar with Taehyung for music. 

You would find out, eventually. There was no point pondering it so much.

Sighing, you turned off your side lamp and decided to retire for the night.

Your writing week was gliding past smoothly. It was just Wednesday, and you all, ahead of the schedule, were at the verge of finishing up your writing parts.

“Are we super efficient or did we sign up for a longer duration of time than needed for this whole project?” Sana questioned, typing away on her laptop.

You snorted. “Or maybe, we didn’t design the blueprint with as much uniformity as we’re required to.”

“You don’t always have to critique everything, boss,” Charlotte, Hoseok’s partner chimed in, flipping her long mane of auburn hair off her shoulder as she shot you a look. 

You glared right back at her. “Uh, actually, I do. That’s kind of my job here.”

You’d been harsher than was needed, making the whole room go quiet. Only the clicking of keyboards echoed around you all for a while.

“Where’s Simon?” Nathan, Yoongi’s partner, asked after some time.

You sighed. “In his room, finishing up his writing work there. He doesn’t feel comfortable sitting between all of us because, and I quote, y’all give off really judgy vibes that fuck with my concentration.”

“That might actually be true,” Areum, Jimin’s partner, mumbled in Korean under her breath.

“Did you mail Manager Woo about the switch yet, boss?” Nathan asked you as you got up to get a refill of your coffee.

You exhaled. “Nope, I'm stalling,” you confidently confessed, leaving the office to make a trip to the kitchen. On your way back, you knocked at Simon’s door before peeking in. “You doing okay?” you asked him flatly.

Simon gave you a nod, not moving his gaze from the laptop screen. You rolled your eyes and came back to the office.

“Should one of us do it? If it won’t look too unprofessional?” Sana asked.

You wrinkled your nose. “It would look grossly unprofessional, Sana.” You pursed your lips as you sat behind your laptop again. “Fine, I’ll do it right now.”

You took a sip from your coffee, and opened your email. This was final, now — no coming back.

You were officially gonna start working with Kim Taehyung.

gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

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series masterlist

Tags: @tangledsparkles​ @hoefortaeshands​ @getmemyfries

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

sdra2 boys reactions to a first kiss from their s/o-

Here you go! These turned out a bit longer than expected haha (plus I almost forgot Hajime aaaaaa)

.........

Teruya

The former merchant was grieving over his friends again, but as much as he tried hiding it--he knew he couldn’t keep it bottled up around you. So he just let himself curl into your arms, clutching the goggles of a certain pilot.

He felt childish for crying like this, though you didn’t judge him, nor the tears that soaked your shirt. Instead you held him close, running a hand through his hair. 

Teruya found that talking about the good memories--as good as any memories of being trapped in the academy could be--with the pilot helped ease his troubled mind. Plus you were curious about his friendship with him.

“He seemed like a comedic guy,” you smiled softly. “A guy with a good heart.”

“Yeah, th-that was Haru alright..” He sniffled, sighing as he felt himself calming down. “Okay..I think I’m alright now. Th-Thank you for listening.”

"Of course, but hmm..I know what’ll cheer you up, Ruya.”

As he raised his head to look at you, what he didn’t expect was to feel you lips against his. But for a first kiss...it was so soft and sweet, just like you’ve always been to him.

You could see a blush on his face as you broke the kiss. He tried to speak, but could only babble random nonsense, to which you just chuckled. “You feel a little better?”

“Y-Yeah..I’m f-feelin’ tons better...”

.........

Yuki

“Are you..serious?” Yuki gawked, expecting you to laugh at his confession. “Y-You really like me that way, too?”

“Of course! And I’ll say it again if I need to.” Grinning, you took his hands and swung them side-to-side a bit. “I truly do like you, Yuki Maeda. So what if you’re “average”? There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Despite how much he wanted to believe your words, he was convinced that he wasn’t anyone special. His talent didn’t make him famous or rich or smart--who would wanna be with someone who was lacking in all three departments?

You could see his eyes starting to cloud over with doubt, but you weren’t gonna have any of that. Fortunately you had an idea that was either smart...or stupid. 

You didn’t care and just decided to kiss him right on the lips. He squeaked in surprise, immediately stiffening up, though it was just a peck and you quickly backed off.

Your face burned with embarrassment, but it got your message across..or so you hoped. “Now do you believe me?”

“I-I....I do..” Yuki stammered, his gaze travelling to your entwined hands. Though he shyly glanced back up at you. “C-Could you..uh..maybe do that again?”

........

Nikei

As you typed away on the computer, you could feel a lingering presence over your shoulder. But you didn’t mind it, knowing there was only one person who was allowed to barge into your office.

“Hey Nik-Nak.”

“Y-You’re seriously giving me a nickname now?” The journalist stammered, though he just sighed and looked at your computer screen. “Anyways..how’s the editing going?”

“So far so good. your dear Ultimate Editor is hard at work.” You kept tapping the keys. “But I noticed a lot more run-on sentences in this one. Looks like somebody’s had a little too much coffee today.”

“Oh please,” he huffed. “We both have very different definitions of “too much coffee”. And I think I know who stole the rest..”

“Sue me.” You joked, reaching up to pat his cheek, before you brought his head down slightly to kiss his other one. “Make some more if your heart desires.”

“..........”

“...Nikei?”

“...s-sure...imma go..uh....yeah. Bye.”

By the time you turned away from the computer, Nikei was already rushing out the door, clutching his hat to hide his face from view. But even in the dark you could tell he was blushing like mad.

How adorable.

........

Shinji

“COME ON, YUKI!! YOU GOTTA HAVE MORE FIYAAAAH THAN THAT!!!”

“He seems tired, Shinji. Cut him some slack.” You chuckled as you watched the two men train together. Poor Yuki was practically wheezing after the run, while Shinji just huffed and kept jogging around the park.

But eventually he made his way over to you and stopped short. “You should join us! Get your blood pumping!!”

“Do I have to?”

“Why not?” He grinned.

You really didn’t wanna run in hot weather like this, and the two seemed like they needed a break. 

So you came up with an idea--a sure-fire way to get him to listen to you. “Hey, Shin? I..gotta tell you something important.” You motioned for him to lean in closer, and he did so in worry, wondering what you had to say.

Though all he got was peck on the lips. It was the first kiss you’ve given him since you two starting going out, so it was quick but sweet. When you moved back you could see him staring at you, face growing beet-red.

“Now will you take a break...please?” You held his hands. 

For a while he seemed speechless--as though his brain short-circuited--before he finally found his voice. “W-W-Well jeez..why d-didn’t ya say so before?”

......

Yuri

“Oh, [y/n]~! I’ve figured out the perfect way to commemorate our first kiss!”

“You have? And what would that be?” You turned around to face the spaceman, noticing he had a box of Pocky. “O-Oh...the Pocky game?”

“What else could it be?” He laughed as he held out a stick between you two. “Since we’re both already familiar with it, why not get started right away~”

Seeing that there was no way out of this, you sighed and decided to agree to the game. You bit down one end of the stick while Yuri bit the other. 

Then you started munching away. Though at the last second, right before your noses could touch, you suddenly moved back, letting him have victory.

“Awh..there’s no need to be shy, my dearest.” He pouted, clearly disappointed. “I understand if you’re not ready yet but-”

However he was cut short when you pulled him by the tie, bringing his lips to yours. His eyes widened to the size of UFOS, though before he could properly react you broke the kiss, smiling as you munched the remaining Pocky you stole from him.

“I win~”

.......

Shobai

“You’re kidding right?”

“It’s like I said--nothing in life comes for free, sweetheart. If ya don’t already know that then..why are we even going out?"

“...we’ve been dating for-”

“You want a kiss? Better pay up.” As ridiculous as it seemed, Shobai looked dead serious about this “deal” you wanted to make with him. 

You didn’t think you’d have to actually pay to get a first kiss. But then again..this man made a living making bizarre deals, so you shouldn’t have been too surprised.

“Alright, if that’s what it takes.” You begrudgingly took out your wallet and opened it. “What do you want for-?”

However, you fell silent when you heard a snicker, and you looked to see his smug grin. But before you could question him, he suddenly leaned down to give you a quick peck on the lips, stunning you, though you tried to seize the moment and kiss him back.

He tasted like smoke, of course. It wasn’t the most pleasant, though your heart still fluttered even after you two broke the kiss. Only then did he notice your dumbfounded expression, and chuckled.

“You know, you can be real gullible sometimes...but that makes you kinda cute.”

.......

Mikado

“Hey um..Mik? Can I ask you something?”

“Oh anything, my dear moon~ Well...erm...there are some things I cannot disclose if you’re curious about Void-”

“A-Ah, nothing like that. I’m just wondering if...I were to kiss you....which side would you prefer?” You gestured to both sides of your face, looking at the wizard with an inquiring expression.

He hummed in thought. “You know..I’ve never had my first kiss before, so I’m not so sure myself. How about I let you surprise me?” The red eye on his mask winked, before he closed his real eye and sat still.

With a sigh, you decided to entertain him, approaching him. But when he opened his eye, you stopped short and huffed. “Hey, what happened to me “surprising” you?”

“Sorry, I was getting..impatient. Carry on.” Once more he closed it, soon feeling you cup the cheek of his maskless side. And he tensed up upon feeling you kiss the corner of his mouth. 

Redness dusted his entire face as he opened his eyes, seeing your smile.

“O-Oh...so that’s how it feels..”

.......

Hajime

“Hajime, it’ll only be for a second. I’ll be right back with medicine-”

“N-No..at least let me go with you..please..”

“You collapsed during training and you’ve been running a high fever ever since. You’re in no condition to walk right now.”

Despite your best efforts, Hajime continued to resist staying in bed. You didn’t think it would be this difficult to get him to stay put, but you knew why he was so upset.

He wasn’t scared of getting sick--he was scared of being abandoned while he was sick. It was a fear instilled into him thanks to his parents and doctors who just..gave up and left him to die, all alone.

That fear showed itself in full-force as he gripped your hand. “D-Don’t abandon me..” He sobbed weakly. “I can’t go through that again..I-I just can’t...”

Your heart ached when you heard those pleas. But as you wondered how you could calm him down...the first brilliant idea to pop in your mind was:

Kiss him.

And so you did, right on the lips, which you knew you’ll regret later. Though Hajime fell silent and looked at you with surprise. “...did you...?”

“Th-That’s..not how I meant our first kiss to go. But I promise you, Hajime..I’m not gonna abandon you.” You ran your fingers through his hair. “Not now, not ever, okay? I will always come back for you.”

His cheeks were more flushed, but he nodded meekly and relaxed back on the bed as you quickly left to retrieve the medicine.

And you kept your promise.

[goldenchan-fx2thepeacock]

Quick AU where Danny stays in town during Girls Night Out

Yeah, random thoughts spring into brain. Danny is trans. I think that's enough background info. Also, Tumblr got a new post editor, so I'm betaing it right now.

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

Danny was supposed to go fishing with his dad. But something came up. AKA, Vlad wanted him to go visit him without Danny. So Danny was in Amity Park when he was supposed to be having dad bonding time. What could he say? His dad got that dumb book and everything. It was gonna be epic. Except stupid Vlad had to go and ruin everything. Whatever. Dad said they would go next weekend.

The first big issue was when Tucker disappeared. And he didn't. Might've been a dumb ghost thing. So he and Sam went to find stuff out. Except all the men in town were gone. It was glaring. "I-I'm sure it's nothing Danny!" Sam said nervously. "Yeah. It's gotta have been a stupid mistake. Maybe I'm immune cause I'm half ghost," Except there weren't any male ghosts either. "Yeah, that's gotta be it!" That when they heard Ember. "OH YEAH! NO MORE PESKY GUYS! IT'S A GIRL'S NIGHT OUT!" "Yes. You know, I'm surprised that worked. I was afraid it might've been a ghost only thing," Spectra drawled. "Of course it worked. The superior gender always prevails," Kitty replied. "And that's obviously female," Every vein in his body was pounding. "I think you might've confused sex for gender ladies," Sam said patiently. "We're not having sex!" Ember laughed. "You do realize how invalidating this can feel for trans people?!" Sam shrieked back. "If they're still here, that means it's a she," Spectra grinned. That was the last straw. He ran. As fast as he could. And for a half ghost that was fast. Once he got home, he slammed the door.

Sam saw Danny run off and knew how this was looking for him. "Isn't this rich? The ghost boy is really a girl," Kitty grinned. "I'm surprised I didn't notice sooner," Spectra laughed. Ember stayed oddly quiet for someone who was normally boisterously loud.

Danny curled in on himself. Herself. NO! Don't second guess yourself. It change the fact that it hurt. "All the men in town are gone!" He heard Jazz yell. "I realize that Jazz. Thank goodness your father is out of town," Mom sighed. "Wait, but Danny isn't! I really hope..." She was standing in his doorway. "FUCKING GHOSTS!" Jazz didn't swear. She never swore. "What is it Jazz? Oh. Danny, I'm so sorry," Mom pulled him into a hug. "I'll be fine," He grumbled. "Do you know which ghosts?" Jazz decided to change the conversation. "Spectra, Kitty and Ember," "Great. Spectra is going to use this horribly," Jazz grumbled quiet enough that only Danny could hear. "Listen, we have to get the guys back first," "Wait, if you're, that means any trans women in Amity are stuck there," Mom said. "Can we not talk about that? I'm seriously not in the mood," "At least pesky Phantom won't be here to get in the way," Jazz and Danny exchanged a look. Sam came bursting in. "Danny! Okay, I am going to make them even deader than before," Sam cracked her knuckles. "I'm fine Sam. Let's just find a way to fix this," "I have an idea!" Jazz said. "No," Danny, Sam and Mom said in unison. "Oh come on. Don't be like that. Not all my plans are bad," Jazz protested. "Speaking from experience (of being trapped in a thermos way too much for one night), that is completely untrue," "What was that about thermoses Danny?" Mom said. "Jazz put soup in my Fenton Thermos!" "I couldn't tell them apart! We really need to label things," "Like with a massive sticker that say Fenton?" "All our stuff has those!" "Fair enough," Danny conceded. It was the plan if anyone caught them talking about getting trapped in thermoses. It made sense because it actually happened. "Well, since Jazz's plan is out, I opt that we figure out how this whole thing happened," Mom said. "It's a combo between Kitty and Ember. Kitty has this thing that makes men disappear into another dimension. And Ember must've used her guitar to make it cover all of Amity. If we don't get them out in twelve hours, they'll be stuck there forever," "And I will have to resign to a life of raging dysphoria," "You were gonna have that anyways," "Times ten. This won't help anyways, but it won't be all bad," "Let's stop talking about you being trans. Danny, you're staying here," Jazz winked. He knew what that meant. They would get all the men back and Danny would keep the ghosts at bay. "Okay. So, from what they were blabbing, all we have to do is get them to do it again," Sam said. Once they had a plan in place, all they had to do was implement it. They left and Danny quickly transformed. Praying that Spectra wouldn't find a way to use this against him, he sped off. "Hey! Poo faces! I'm not gone, and it semi pisses me off!" He screamed. "Oh now sweety. Why would you want to leave behind the superior gender?" Spectra said. "Because it makes me feel horrible and like I was born wrong," "You were, weren't you," Don't let Spectra sink her claws in Fenturd! "Yeah, maybe I was, but if I work hard enough I can fix it," "How is Danny Phantom still here?" He heard Paulina say. Nope, not listening. "They're all going to know. You can't do anything about that," Spectra laughed evilly. "Now girls, follow the recipe! You too now," "I'm. NOT A GIRL!" The wail was probably ill planned, but Danny wasn't thinking straight. Shit, humans. He cut himself off. "Oh come on now. No matter how many times you tell yourself that, you still have to cover parts of yourself. Don't tell me you don't wake up every morning and wish you were a real boy?" "I am. I am a real boy. I just have to take a few extra steps to get there," "Oh come on now. Stop lying to yourself. Maddie, how can you possibly call these eggs? They're green," Okay, maybe dealing with Spectra first was a bad idea. But she was also taunting his mom. Deal with Ember. She must be better than this.

So he flew to a stage. Ember was rocking out with a bunch of girls. Sam was in the background. This was probably one of the less dangerous problems. "Listen, if you're going to taunt me for the fact that I'm still here, do it already," "Hey, listen kid. I'm not actually going to taunt you. Kitty and Spectra are being complete jerks, but I'm not going to judge you for being trans," "Y-you're not?" "Heck no! I'm doing this because I wanted to have a fun night without guys. You included. I'll just have to take a few extra steps to get rid of you!" Danny dodged the guitar strum easily. "Are you planning on bringing them back at the end of the night?" "That's really up to Kitty," "I guess," Sam could deal with Ember.

Next up was Kitty. Oh great, makeup. (I honestly forget what Kitty was doing, so makeup works) "Now girls. All you gotta do is apply the bronzer like so!" "Kitty! How would Johnny feel if he knew you were doing this?" "Oh come on now Ghost girl, you can't be serious. Johnny is having a guys night in all due time," "HEY! Don't you dare. Transphobia doesn't help anyone," Jazz yelled. "Oh stop complaining. She knows she doesn't belong with the guys. From the looks of it, Spectra's already gotten to you. This'll make this so much easier,"

The plan backfired immensely. Danny and Mom were a mess, Sam didn't manage to get the guitar, and Jazz just got in a debate with Kitty. Danny, having to keep up a facade, came downstairs. "How'd it go?" "Terribly. Though, I did learn the Ghost Boy is trans," Mom said. "Fascinating," "It's, well it's oddly human. Why would a ghost even bother?" "Turns out gender dysphoria comes to the grave," "Danny, this is no time for one of your morbid jokes," Yeah, maybe it was morbid, but it wasn't a joke. "Whatever. I guess we get to use Jazz's plan," "All we gotta do is convince them that a cis guy is still in town. Like wandered in after the disappearing act," "Great plan. Sam can't pretend to be me though," "How did you know I was going to do that?" "Lucky guess,"

So that's how Jazz ended up wearing a baseball cap and a pair of men's jeans into Ember's concert. "Did we really have to use a pair of dad's jeans? These barely fit," "You know, the fact that they fit at all should be surprising. Dad was skinny at one point in his life. Which means that one of us could be on his end of the gene pool," "It's probably you," "Don't make me think about that. Hiding what little chest I have is hard enough. If I got dad's genes, I'd honestly be terrified," "We haven't seen the women on his side of the family. And besides, you got the blue eyes black hair thing," "You are honestly scaring me. Now, I gotta scram before someone sees me talking to you. Mom or the ghosts," "Fair,"

And thus, the plan worked. Kitty, adamant that no men be left in Amity, blew another kiss. Ember amplified it. The men came back. The three got thermosed. Jazz laughed at their faces when they honestly though she was from out of town. Danny once again didn't get taken, even in ghost form.

Tucker and Sam found him curled up in his bed. "Hey man. I know this has gotta be tough for you," Tucker said. "Spectra had no right!" Sam continued. "Thanks guys. But I think I'm gonna take a few days off school," The trio heard Dash's voice outside. "Hey mom. I know what happened was scary. And I know it must've felt really bad, but I still see you as my mom," "Thanks Dash. I can always count on you to make me feel better," A woman's voice rang out. Danny looked over the window sill. "See Danny. It's not horribly weird. Just a few transphobic ghosts," Tucker laughed. "A couple," "What?" Sam and Tucker said in unison. "Ember isn't," "How do you know that?" "I talked to her," "Hey Fenturd! Don't you dare tell anyone about my mom! And don't be mean to her! I'm sure you wouldn't get it," "You'd be surprised Dash!" He grabbed his trans flag and hung it out the window. "I get it more than you seem to think!" Dash's mom smiled at him. "Y-you're trans? I thought you were just a loser!" "Yeah, and I had to talk to the transphobic ghosts. So I won't invalidate your mom!" Dash stared up at him. "Holy shit,"

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Praying that this uploads, cause I've got shoddy internet rn. And I'm working on my Gravity Falls crossover fic. I just had this pop into my mind. Prolly just gonna be a oneshot. I might make another fic about Jack's side of the family later, that's connected to this one.

[bilgisticallykosher]

5: Making Our Own Sensory Deprivation Tank

TA Masterpost | Masterpost | AO3

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My Thomas Annus discord server!

Sensory Deprivation Tanks allow you to slip away from the noise of reality. The physical world melts away to reveal a deeper understanding of one's self and the world as a whole. But they're expensive. So we made our own.

Word count: 4254

Warnings: cursing, non-sexual nudity, sexual innuendo, sexual jokes and humor, "attempted" murder, drowning sort of?, "attempted" drowning, mild body horror in the end card.

Thanks to @callboxkat for helping me to decide between songs for Janus to sing, like, over a year ago.

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THOMAS ANNUS, THOMAS ANNUS

Janus and Remus were in a bathroom with a filled bathtub. Janus was sitting on the edge of the foot of the tub, feet on the floor, Remus was squatting near the faucet, elbows resting on his knees. 

"Sensory deprivation tanks have become very popular," Janus steepled his fingers together. "They provide the user with a sensation of death."

"Or life!"

"Exactly. An in-between, suspended between the two, not knowing what comes before or after."

"A perfectly perfunctory purgatory of precise pinpointed pandemonium!" Remus threw his arms up, hands flopping over. 

"But another thing that sensory deprivation tanks are," he gestured smoothly, palm flat up across the room, "is expensive."

"So we decided to make our own! With half the cost and double the danger!" Remus made jazz hands, and Janus rolled his eyes. 

"I don't think there's anything that dangerous here." He leaned down to peer at the label on a big bag. 

"It is if you're doing it right!" Janus sighed, then turned back to the camera. 

"We're doing this to bring the experience of death to you."

"And us!" He tilted his head sharply. "Mostly us." He turned to Janus. "So, what's the main ingredient in these sepfuary desperation tankers?" Joan, still behind the camera, laughed loudly. 

"PFFFT!" Janus laughed, "What the hell was that?" He grinned smarmily. "Did you forget how to speak?"

"Sometimes my brain works too quickly for my mouth!" Remus pouted, crossing his arms. "It's not my fault the human body can't fully handle my genius." 

"Oh is that what we're calling it now?"

"Anyway, the main ingredient?" He looked at the tub. "Aside from water, at any rate."

"Salt." 

"Salt!" Remus shout-agreed, pulling out a box of kosher salt. "Fuels summoning circles, our salty nature, and," he gestured to Janus. 

"Sensory deprivation tanks," he finished smoothly. "But not that kind of salt."

"I still have some of those saline packets," he gestured behind himself, jerking his thumb. "Should I grab-"

"Epsom salt," he cut off. "That's what's in these giant bags." He tapped a little on the top of one of them. "In fact, let's get this started now." He pulled on the plastic handle. It didn't lift. Janus side-eyed the camera, and casually gripped it with two hands. He tugged. Nothing continued to happen. "I'm better than this," he hissed. He drummed his fingers again in thought. 

He decided. "Remus!" 

"Sir, yes, sir!" He saluted. 

"Lift this and open it above the bathwater."

"Absolutely!" He grinned, looking excited as he scrambled over. He grabbed the bag with two hands, and gently removed it from Janus's grip.

"We should be careful with-" but Remus had already hefted it up into the air over the tub. It hovered there for a moment, which was just enough time for Remus to summon his morningstar, reel it back, and slam into the bag. The bag tore, spilling salt all over the water. A few handfuls rained down on Janus's hat, and he glared at Remus. 

"Now you're as salty as your personality!" Remus reached up, and ruffled his hand through his hair, dislodging the salt. 

"Joy," he deadpanned. He turned around, his head out of shot, grabbed his hat off, and gently tapped the salt off of the brim into the water. He put his hat back on, turning back around. Remus stuck his morningstar into the bath, stirring it around. 

"Do we need more?"

"Well, each bag is forty pounds," he hesitated. 

"And how salty does it have to be?" Remus prompted. 

"As the dead sea." Janus shot back. He raised an eyebrow, "that's the one you float in, right?"

"I float in a lot of things." Remus wiggled his eyebrows. 

"Well, we want to experience death. So dead sea it is." Remus cocked his head, pulling his morningstar out of the water. 

"River Styx is deader," he idly scratched his back with his weapon. Janus brought a hand up to his chin, contemplatively. 

"This is true. You'll just have to take a trip there to find out how salty it is." Janus waved him off. "Do let me know the results."

"I think the only components they have there are water and the souls of the damned." He swung his morningstar back around. 

"Pity. We're fresh out."

"We're out of water?!" Remus gaped. Janus snorted behind his hand. 

"Put the second bag in," Remus grabbed the second bag. "Carefully." Remus pouted, and grumpily used a spike from his star to tear open a corner. Janus turned to address the camera again. "Now, we have here a small sports and action video camera, capable of being mounted and attached, with underwater capabilities," Remus started pouring the second bag into the tub. "That way, we can share the experience at home."

"Yeah! Come die with us! Via the GoPro, or whatever that long, stupid name you said was." Janus rolled his eyes, but let the matter drop. He began to shimmy his whole body up and down with the bag. Janus sighed. "Is this stuff supposed to melt? It's a little crunchy in there."

"Well you are supposed to float." He peered into the water. "Maybe you're just suspended by the rocks." Janus smirked. 

"Ooh, let's just get a giant boulder!" Remus grinned back, still shimmying. "Then we'll float real good!"

"You have to still be in the water, though." Janus pointed out, amused. 

"What, like all of you or just like a toe or something is good?" He shook the last of the salt out.

"Well, possibly, but knowing you, you'd just sever a toe and huck it into the water." He made a throwing motion. "And the rest of you would just be dry."

"But floating!" He tilted his head. "That toe thing is a good idea, though. They drink that in parts of Canada, could probably make a quick buck." Janus squinted, taken aback. 

"They what."

"Yeah, there's some shot that they make from a gangrene toe," he explained with a flippy hand. "It's cold up there, y'know, so I guess it happens often enough. The Sourtoe cocktail!" He got the last of the salt out of the bag, and chucked it over his shoulder. "It started because-"

"Listen," Janus held up a hand, stopping him,  "We've got death to experience, there's no time for toe talk." Remus pouted, while Janus peered into the tub. "Hm. It probably won't irritate our skin," Janus mused. "Incidentally, you're going first." Remus let out a whoop, reaching down near his feet, and peeling his clothing off in one upwards motion. A big black censor box popped up to cover his general genital area. 

"Ta-dah!" He flung his arms up over his head.

"We discussed this, you weren't supposed to be naked," Janus frowned. 

"Gasp!" He said, as opposed to actually gasping. "You're right!" He covered his nipples with his hands and turned his head away. "DON'T LOOK AT ME!" He faced his head forward again, grin present as though it'd never left. "Hey editor, put in a really big censor on my dick euphemism." The black censor box changed to an elephant head, its trunk long and centered. 

"Put on. Your shorts." Janus gritted through his teeth. "I don't care if it's boxers or swim trunks, but we discussed that you would not. Be. Naked!" 

"Uuuuuuuugh," Remus whined, body becoming floppy as he tilted his torso to one side. "Fine." He grumpily grabbed a bathing suit from the ground and tugged them up. They were green, and read 'Penis Inside' on the front. He crossed his arms, still pouting, "Are you happy now? I changed for you," Janus stared at him. 

"Yes, I know," Janus un-tensed.

"I didn't even wear the ones with the little penii on it," Remus added.

"Yes, I know."

"That's plural of penis!"

"Yes, I know."

"Alright, let's get kinky!" He grabbed his shirt and waved it around. "We're going as full syncopatey dispatchers as possible!" Janus cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. Remus shrugged. "I got excited!"

"Well, put that on, anyway." Janus rolled his eyes, and grabbed a pair of big headphones from the side, waving them at him. Remus snatched them, holding them in between his legs as he wrapped the shirt around his eyes, tying it behind his head. The torso of the garment hung in front, down to his chest. "Not like that," Janus sighed. "Must you make everything difficult for me?"

"Tie me up right, Jaddy," he turned around, wriggling, facing the knot of the shirt towards Janus. "That's Janus and daddy." He paused, "Or jean daddy!" Janus whapped him on his head with two fingers. "Ow!" He exclaimed with a wide grin on his face. 

Janus untied the shirt, taking it off completely, and rolled it into itself, so it was cylindrical. Remus was humming to himself, eyes closed, shifting from one foot to another as he waited. He wrapped it around Remus's eyes again, tying it firmly in place. He gave an extra tug that seemed a little harsher than it should be. 

"You're done. Headphones on." Remus did so, lewdly grabbing the headphones from between his legs, and placing them on his head with a flourish. "And now, step into your death pool."

"Deadpool?!" Remus shouted, much louder than he needed to. "It's hard to hear you through these headphones!" 

"Perfect." Janus nodded to himself. He jolted slightly, looking from Remus to the bathtub and back. "Hm. This, might be a problem." Remus began to clap far away and then closer to his face to see if he could hear himself. Janus put a hand on his chin, then looked at the camera. "Joan, do you think if he trips and falls on his way, anyone would believe it's an accident?"

"I dunno," they responded. "You think it's worth the risk?" Janus turned back to look at Remus, who clapped right on top of his nose, looked around, confused, then did it again. Janus silently looked back at Joan. "Okay, but you should probably help him anyway."

"Ugh, fine, spoilsport." He strode over to Remus, and lifted one end of the headphones off of his ear. "Alright, come on, I need to help guide you to the tub." Remus laid the headphones around his neck. "Joan says I shouldn't kill you."

"They what?!" Remus screeched, turning completely the wrong direction to look at Joan. "Spoilsport!" 

"That's what I said," Janus smirked, walking over to him. "Now come here," he patted his shoulders, "let's get you dead-adjacent." And he tugged him gently by the shoulders, leading him over to the bathtub. "Left leg," Remus dutifully lifted it, "forward" and flailed his foot around until it touched water, then plunged it in. 

"I got it from here, Janny Bananny," and swung himself around into the tub. Janus clapped, once. 

"Bravo," he grabbed the GoPro, "put the headphones back on."

"We gettin' some tunes on this thing?" Remus asked as he adjusted them back up around his ears, sliding only one ear cover on.

"I'll see what I can do," he rolled his eyes. "Maybe I'll serenade you."

"Oooooh!" He wiggled his butt, sloshing the water around the tub. "Now all we need is some rubber duckies!" He snapped the second cover over his other ear. Janus placed the GoPro in his hands, and Remus felt around the camera. "Is this the lens?!" He shouted, rubbing his fingers over what did, in fact, appear to be the lens. 

"Yes!" Janus harshly tapped his wrist. "Now stop smudging it!" 

"I don't know what you said!" Remus grinned. "Hey, you know, if we peed in here you'd never know!" He put his hands behind his head, camera in hand acting like a pillow. "It's already warm! And crunchy from the salt!" He hummed. "I bet it'd taste delicious!"Janus ignored him as he prattled on, and turned back to Joan's camera. 

"Alright, so, in normal sensory deprivation tanks, they're, well, tanks." Janus gestured to the open bathtub. "So what we need here is a cover to be more enclosed. Luckily, we have an actual cover." He gestured in a different direction, and the camera panned to where the empty salt bags were. "It's a bed cover. Or blanket as it is sometimes known." He went over to grab it as Joan focused on Remus again, still talking. 

"I don't know, I mean! It's nice! But I'm not floating!" He was waving the GoPro around in wide figure eights around his head. Janus grabbed the blanket, walking back over to Remus. "I think I'm supposed to be floating! Maybe the water needs to be seasoned more?!" Janus hefted the blanket, placing it on top of Remus. "I'm not exactly feeling anything! Not even the pee that I may or may not have added to it!" He pulled it over his head. 

"There we go," Janus smiled calmly. "Perfect enclosure."

"Hey, it's darker in here!" The blanket by Remus's head moved as though he were moving his arms underneath it. "Am I being smothered?! You're doing it really badly!" Janus left the camera screen. "I can still breathe and everything! Also it feels really soft and blanket-y!" Janus came back on, dragging a chair with him. It was a padded, wheely one. "Is this a blanket?!"

"Oh my god, shut up and experience death!"

"What?!" 

"Shut up!"

"Oh okay!" Janus sighed out in relief. Then, "So what am I supposed to do now?!" 

"You're supposed to be not talking, so that you can get the experience of a sensory deprivation chamber, so shut up and deprive your senses, already!" Janus was breathing harshly from the force of the yell.

"... I'm bored!" Janus let his head fall back in frustration. "I'm gonna play with the GoPro!" There was more splashing, and movement under the blanket. "Okay, viewers, so here I am, getting my secretaries desolated." Janus massaged his temples, before turning to the camera. The background music swelled, and Janus took on a deeper, more narrator-like voice. 

"So, in theory, the idea of a sensory deprivation chamber is that you become unfocused on your senses." Remus continued talking to the GoPro in the background. The music stopped, and Janus's voice went from more intense to more casual. "Not just the usual five that you're taught in school, either, which is a bunch of garbage, by the way," the music resumed again, getting louder as he spoke, "and instead, you focus internally, and if you concentrate your efforts, really feel the sensations of death, you'll be able to improve yourself, to make yourself, unstopp-"

"HEY JAN!" Janus physically flinched, turning towards him. The music stopped. "I'm not feeling any sensations of death!" Janus stared at the bundle of motion under the blanket. 

"Are you telling me you can hear m-"

"I feel like I'm in soup!" Janus sighed and put his head on his hands. "But chunky, because the salt's still intact! Is it supposed to melt?! Because it's not! Here, I'll get a close-up!" Janus was mumbling under his breath. "Hey, can this GoPro go in water?!" Janus sighed very heavily, and lifted his head, rolling his eyes. 

"Yes."

"Down she goes!" Janus snorted, startled, and it turned into a laugh. There were heavy swishing noises from within Remus's bathtub cocoon. "I'm giving the GoPro the experience of a tsunami!"

"Okay, tell you what," Janus put his hands up as if in surrender. He walked back over to the chair. "What if I soothe you with some water-themed white noise?" 

"We have a white noise machine?!" 

"No," he sat down. "Shh-" 

"I can't hear the CD!" He brought up a hand to his headphones. 

"Put that hand back!" Janus said sharply. "You'll feel the low vibrations. And it's not A CD," Janus crossed his legs. "I'm making the sounds myself. "Shh-"

"CA-CAW! CA-CAW!" Janus jumped, eyes wide, startled.

"This isn't a group activity!"

"Just trying to help!"

"Help by shutting up!" He glared before attempting again. "Shhhwshhhhh! Shwoooshhh. Shhhhhhhhhh!" 

"Are you going to do more than waves?!" Remus shifted under the blankets. "Just waves is boring!"

"More like wave goodbye to your life if you don't shut your mouth," Janus mumbled under his breath. He sighed. "I was getting to that." He rolled his neck. "If only you'd been more patient and shut up, you would have heard that."

"Neither of those sound like me!" He cackled from underneath. "Go back to the death threats! That was fun!"

"No!" Janus resumed the homemade ocean sounds. "SHHHHHHH! SHHHWSHHHH! SHHHWWWSHHHHH!" He was a bit angrier about it than before. "Hhhhwwwwhhhoooo……… blup, blup blup." 

"This is nice!" Remus shifted down lower. "I'm feeling pretty dead, I think! Dead people love the ocean! Especially if they've been eaten by something in it!"

"Wee-ooh," He ignored him, continuing to imitate a foghorn. "Weee-oohhh." Then a loud sucking noise interrupted him. Surprisingly, it did not come from Remus. "What was that?" The noise continued its wet slurping. "Did you kick off the drain?"

"Maybe!" He kicked a foot around a bit. "I'm not sure! Hypothetically! How would one put it back with no hands?!" There was a bunch of splashing near Remus's feet. Janus sighed, propping his leg up, and putting his head in his hands. 

"You get it back in?" He raised an eyebrow, expression bored.

"No! It's just sucking on my toes!" Sure enough, there was a prominent sucking sound. Remus moved his leg up. "See?! Out!" He put his leg back in the previous position, "In!" The sound got softer. Moved his leg, "Out!" The sound got louder. "In!" He let a second pass. "Out!"

"I get it, yes. Please-"

"In!" Janus huffed, and slouched over, rubbing his face in frustration. "Hey! You ever pretend like you're a submarine and you've got a peniscope checking out the enemy territory?!"

Janus looked like he gave up hope. Not for the video going well, just in general. He got up and walked off-screen. Remus was still talking. "Don't shoot your torpedoes off too early, though!" There was a pause. "Torpeendoes!" He laughed to himself a bit. "I think that I'm gonna check out enemy territory myself! Why rely on your peniscope for something you can do yourself!" He raised up, still covered by layers of fabric, "Going down!" He sank down into the water all the way, swishing and splashing, the blanket starting to bunch up and swirl around. 

Janus walked back on-screen again, clearly not in his normal outfit. He had a swim cap on his head and bathrobe on, untied. He frowned when he walked in, and looked around. He walked towards the tub, peered in…

And just under a minute after he submerged, Remus broke the surface, pulling the shirt blindfold off as he came up. "Woo!" He splashed Janus considerably, causing him to flinch and take a few steps back. 

"Hey!" Remus flipped his hair back, making even more of a mess. 

"Don't go underwater. It hurts." Janus's robe fell open, revealing his yellow shorts with a green snake coming around a leg, its head by the front of them. "... You sure those aren't mine?"

The video cut. 

When it came back on, it had transitioned to Janus in the tub, eyes closed, relaxing back as much as possible. He had the headphones already in place.  

"If I find out you peed in this, I will kill you."

"You don't gotta worry about that, my deceitful delicacy." He reached down for a shirt that was by the outside of the tub. "You just worry about relaxing, and being dead!" Janus sighed, and Remus dutifully tied the shirt around his eyes. "Today's safeword is mungbean," he gave an extra tug around it, and grabbed for Janus's hand, opening his fingers before he placed the GoPro inside.

"I thought you were trying to hold my hand," Janus let the camera roll around his fingers.

"Aw, you know nothing gets me in a romantic mood like soaking in a death bath." You could see Janus's eyebrows constrict slightly. 

"Is-"

"Now now, don't worry about anything." He patted his hand. "This'll aaaaallllllllllll be over soon." Janus seemed to frown from behind the shirt. He went about tightly tucking Janus in, from his head to his feet. "Whoops, got your dick a little bit. That's okie dokie, though. Okie dickie." He ducked down to grab something.

"I'm so glad that you're telling me what I'm okay with," Janus moved the camera to his other hand, deadpan. 

"You're welcome!" He stood again, and partially unrolled some duct tape off the roll he'd grabbed, with a shhhhhhk! "Now, move your head up a bit, I want to make sure this is all secure." He began wrapping the duct tape around his head a few times. 

"Holy crap, Remus!" Joan accused, slightly horrified, before they laughed a little. Remus tore the strip off with his teeth, licking his mouth as he patted the tape down so that it stuck. "Delicious. Now, what's your favorite song? Serenade yourself!" Janus hummed in thought before he started up. 

"Let's face the facts and come to terms, it's time to realize," Remus brightened. 

"Great, now slowly lean your head back and keep going." He put a hand on his head.

"These goals are only merely hope we quickly leave behind," 

"These goats are hoes you subtly love with roving eyes!" Remus joined on top of him, singing off-key. Janus thwapped his hand and continued on his own. 

"They're lies," Remus put a hand on his head, "lies," he pushed softly, "lies," he led him down to the water level, " lies," his ears were now underwater, "lieeeeees!" He kept pushing until his entire face was underneath the surface. The last held out note came out, bubbling. Janus quickly sat upright again with a gasp. "Wait, wait, hold on now. I feel as though something's a little off, here." Though his face was covered by a t-shirt, it had a distinct pinched look to it. 

"Naaaaaaw, you're fine, you're good," he put his hand on his head again, and pushed insistently until Janus had sunk down again, this time he stopped before he submerged completely. "So? You feel closer to god?" He purred, double checking he was completely tucked in. 

"If by closer to god, you mean about to get murdered, then I think so."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," he nodded, distracted, as he gently caressed his head. "And are you feeling relaxed?" He rubbed his thumb back and forth across his nose and mouth. "Relaaaaaaaaaax."

"Okay well, now I'm feeling less relaxed by the second." He wriggled. "Did you tuck my arms in?"

"Naw, come on. Think relaxing thoughts. What's the best sleep you've ever had?" He drummed his fingers on the top of his head. 

"Any one but this one."

"Just let go. Relax. Sink into it." He started pushing on his head again, and he went down those last few centimeters. Remus did not release him. Janus began to twitch. Then harder, writhing and twisting to the best of his abilities. "That's it, that's it," he stroked the top of his head, giving his forehead a few last pats as he finally stopped his movements. "Boy, he was a heavy one!" Janus suddenly rose up fully, breathing harshly. He tore down the shirt from his face, cursing. He stared at Remus, panting. Eventually, he took in enough oxygen, and said, 

"My lips burn."

"Neat! How would you rate your time at the Thomas Annus Death Tub Experience?" He held two thumbs up. 

"You know," he tilted his head, "I think if there hadn't been someone trying to kill me, that might have been relaxing."

"Yeah, what an asshole, we should fire that guy."

"Felt kind of like what I imagine the womb is like." His hand drifted through the water. 

"I miss the womb," Remus sighed wistfully. 

"Yes. Very dead in there." 

"We were all dead before we were born." They stared at the camera. The clock resumed its ticking. 

Endcard: 

Remus was naked again, censor in place. 

"Alright, editors!" He pointed towards the camera. "It's time for hard mode," he gyrated his hips for emphasis. "Ready? Let's go!" He pointed at the camera, "Something long!" The censor turned into a giraffe's neck. "Something small!" A giant termite nest in the dirt, tall and bustling with tiny termite activity. "Something sweet!" A candy cane, hook facing up, tied nicely with a fancy bow. "Something salty!" A big, twisted soft pretzel. 

Remus cracked his knuckles until they cracked off, each hanging by a thin strip of skin. He shook his hands out, and they realigned, fusing together again. "Something curvy!" A corkscrew popped into censorship existence. "Something straight-" a long yardstick, "-as my thinking!" The yardstick flickered, instead a graph with a sin curve charted on it hovered in its place. "Now the same thing, but straight as in orientation!" The graph turned rainbow colors. 

"Now just let my dick hang out!" A picture of a plate of spotted dick. Remus looked around excitedly. "Did that work?" The pudding wobbled in a distressing way. The camera cut off.

-----

Taglist: @smileyzs @robinwritesshitposts   @thatgaydemigodnerd @arya-skywalker @itsabsurd-and-terrifying @potatsanderssides  @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @royal-stormcloud @thefivecalls @ananonsplace @ollyollyoxinfree @intruxiety @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven @just-your-typical-trans-guy @a-fandom-trashdump @hekking-happy-nonsense     @legendsgates @10moonymhrivertam @idont-freaking-know     @aceawkwardunicorn @nyamafriend

[pearl-blue-musings]

Hi!! Can I order spaghetti (msby) with mashed potatoes and green beans split between me and atsumu?

YES AHHHHH thank you for giving me my first haikyuu ask!!!! This was so much fun to write and think about!

ALSO I’M SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE MANY MANY APOLOGIES 

A/n: I wrote this with some ideas I got from @cestcirque and her smau (which you absolutely must check out!) for this soulmate au, when you look into the eyes of your soulmate your world changes from black and whites to bursting with color. This is also post time skip so Atsumu is a wonderful black jackal

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x photographer!fem!reader

once again I got carried away what else did you expect from me

Warnings: 18+, smut, daddy calling, biting, slight edging, oral (fem receiving), fingering, vaginal penetration, relatively tame!

Enjoy your meal

~~~~~~~~

With sweat dripping down his face, Miya Atsumu was bursting with energy. It was down to the final point of the match and he was itching to win. It’s already been over a month since Hinata joined MSBY and their chemistry on the court has been proven a formidable force. First against the Adlers, and now with his former high school teammates team, EJP. His eyes are alight with a fire and desire to win. He can feel the rush of winning cloud over him as he keeps his eye on his teammates, setting the ball perfectly to the man everyone describes as an orange haired ball of sunshine in order to score the final set point. The yell of victory leaves his throat before he can process everything. His eyes scans the crowd of fans that have come to watch him, being excited but also a pang of emptiness hits him.

If only he could see the colors everyone talks about around him. 

Everything is greyscale for the man, who he’s been told has a strange yellow hue to his hair. Atsumu didn’t know what the color would look like but liked how it would be marked as different and easy to see when you get to see color. He resents the fact that his twin Osamu laughs freely at his hair color. The normal haired twin, to him, had met his soulmate in one of his business classes and demanded a facetime with his twin. Atsumu was angry at first, but on the inside was happy his brother had met his soulmate and his life bursting with color. 

Surely, he’d meet his soon right?

Atsumu is pulled from his thoughts when Bokuto wraps his arm around his shoulder to pull him into a hug and briefly chat.

“Hey hey hey! Why didn’t you set it to me at the end, huh? You can’t keep giving Hinata all the glory!”

“They were expectin’ ya. I couldn’t Bo. ‘Sides, we won that’s all that matters.”

The flash of cameras after games were very common. With different sports magazines and editors showing up to cover the game, it was something the team was used to. As per usual, a camera-person came up to him and Bokuto, completely ignoring who was taking the picture focusing on the lens. Once his eyes meet the lens, he puts on his signature smile and puts a thumbs up with his teammate for the photo op.

It had all happened so fast. 

You had been called to fill in at the last minute to take photos for the MSBY Black Jackals volleyball game. You didn’t think anything of it other than doing a favor for a friend. And this was an incredible opportunity for you, an amazing way to expand your sprouting portfolio. In this world of soulmates you live in, it was unheard of. Your pictures and photos always came out with the utmost care and perfection, despite not being able to see any of the colors to truly work the right lighting and angles. Even though touching and editing required the use of being able to see colors, somehow your eyes went beyond that and captured everything in a natural way that everyone could understand the message and point of all your photos.  

It was absolutely exquisite and breathtaking.

You had never been to a volleyball game before and you were hit with how exciting it was. The energy from the players and the fast fed into your blood as you began and continued to capture pictures of the game. It wasn’t just a regular game, it was an experience and you figured it was different for everyone. And as you felt that, you knew you wanted to capture it.

It was in moments like these you envied those around you who were able to see color. You yearned for the day you would be able to see all the colors that your peers and employers have paraded you for. Hopefully when you finally meet the one, you’ll be able to do your job even better. 

Before you knew it, the game had ended and you were doing what all the other photographers were doing by taking pictures of the tired and sweaty players as they interact with each other and their fans. You slowly walk toward the court, fixing and switching your lenses for up close pictures. You happen to place your camera right at your eye, seeing two players not looking your way yet as they were engaged in their own private conversation. Once you get their attention, you make eye contact with both before snapping the picture.

You had almost dropped your camera, lucky for the strap around your neck holding it together. You don’t even check your camera, knowing the picture came out horrible. But as you hold the black camera in your hands with your jaw slack-

Wait, black? That’s right it’s black.

And one of the two players in front of you had a matched expression on his face.

Atsumu should have asked his brother what it would be like when he meets his soulmate in order to prepare himself. He’s seriously kicking himself now as the bright white lights bounce of the beige and tan floor of the wooden court. He looks down to see his black and white jersey, the streaks of red and green on certain parts of the floor, the blues, yellows, and whites of the volleyball...

And the all encasing beauty that was you. 

Everything about you was stunning, he wasn’t sure where to look next. However his thoughts were interrupted by a boisterous yell next to him.

“Hey ‘Tsumu! Why’d you stop?”

The blond haired man turns to his friend and gives him a new look over. “Did ya know yer hair is two diff’rent colors?”

Bokuto freezes and attempts to look up at his hair and smiles widely. “Yeah! Yukie keeps it nice for me and- No way! Where are they?”

The owl like man quickly shakes his head back and forth throughout the crowd looking for his teammates soulmate is! He’s interrupted with a tap on the shoulder from the man in question.

Atsumu points to where you’re still starstruck, taking in everything around you.

“Her.”

You felt as if time had lost all meaning as the colors all around you began to come to life, being as lively and vibrant as everyone above you had described. You had zero expectations of ever meeting your soulmate, let alone at a randomly assigned job. You’re unaware of what your body is doing, but your feet are moving across the plane as you walk closer to the man who’s staring at you in a way you’d always hoped to be gazed at.

He’s taller than you thought he’d be up close, but you can smell his musk and sweat and you’re not turned off like you’d always been. The way his bright yellow hair matches his personality, from what you’ve seen, on the court makes your heart melt. It’s almost like everything about him is perfect. The way his eyes are tired but full of vitality isn’t lost on you, and he seems to see the same thing in yours. 

Atsumu for once is at a loss for words. There’s so many ways he had pictured this going but surely not like this. He opens his mouth to speak, but his eyes catch a gathering crowd. 

“Aw, shoot. There’s for sure gonna be a crowd comin’. Meet me after by the exit? I promise I’ll make it quick...”

“(Y-y/n).”

He chuckles and places one hand on his hip and the other in his hair. “Heh, cute name for a cutie like ya self. Name’s Atsumu. Wait for me will ya?”

You merely nod and watch him smirk at you before he meets up with his teammates to celebrate their win. You’re left standing there trying to process what just happened as he turns around one more time to wink at you. If you could melt, you would. You gather your yourself, pick up your camera and try to stealthily avoid any reporters and the like. Since this was your first volleyball match, you had no idea the power just being in the presence of Miya Atsumu held.

Fan girls and other photographers began to swarm you as you attempted to blend in the crowd. All these women had beautiful hair, beautiful complexions; you couldn’t wait to start taking photos in color. Not the right thought to have as you’re getting bombarded but what can you do?

Luckily you’re swept away by another photographer who saw your pain and helped you out. You thanked her and followed her to where the media had access. She wished you luck as she led you to where Atsumu wanted you to meet him.

About 30 minutes later, he comes out with a few of his teammates, laughing gleefully and somehow that made your heart flutter. How did you get paired up with a man like this? The soulmate gods must have really been looking out for you.

Once his beautiful deep eyes meet yours, his gaze softens as he walks toward you. His teammates tell him goodbye and that they’ll message him later. As he approaches you, he has to pinch himself to realize that this is real and it’s happening to him.

He speaks up first again, eager to hear your voice again. “Hiya.”

You giggle at his intro. To him, it sounded like heaven opened up and the angels were singing all around him. He gets to have this laugh to himself? Call himself blessed. 

“I never thought I’d actually meet ma soulmate. And yet, here ya are.”

He extends his hand out to you and you take it, noticing how warm and calloused it is against yours. There’s no way life could be this perfect. You rub your thumb on the back of his palm and stare into his eyes.

“Here we are.”

************

You’d think you’d be used to hosting events for his teammates at your shared place after almost a couple years of being together. but something always surprises you. This time, it turned out fate was working in mysterious ways today. On the way to your place, Hinata had met his soulmate and brought them to the gathering! Needless to say they were overwhelmed but in a good way. Sakusa was slightly concerned over the presence of someone new whom he didn’t know very well, but tolerated it for his friend’s happiness.

You’ve just finished washing the dishes as Atsumu dries whatever is left. You wipe your brow and sigh heavily. Your boyfriend looks over to you and smirks. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ bout baby?”

You smirk at him before leaning your head on his shoulder, “just, life I guess.”

The young man sighs contentedly, places the dried dishes in the rack, and kisses your forehead. “Care to elaborate? Or am I gonna have to tickle the info outta ya?”

You hear the smirk in his tone as he wraps his arms around your waist, pinching and tickling your sides. Your laugh bubbles in the air as you squeal and squirm against Atsumu’s grip. His tout body keeps you against him, holding you tight so you can’t escape his embrace. “’Tsumu! I give, I give!”

“Nuh uh babycakes,” he growls in your ear, “I’m not done with ya.”

You laugh harder as you feel him lift you off the ground, turn you around, and sit you on the counter. With his hands firmly on your waist, he surprises you with a small yet passionate kiss on the lips. Your hands fall onto his neck and face to pull him closer to you. 

You pull away and notice him bite his lip. “What was that for?” You don’t miss the way his eyes glaze over as you question him. 

“I just love ya so much. I never thought life would be s’ fulfilling once I got some color into it. Thought it was all mumbo jumbo, whatever.” He places his body in between your legs, letting your breaths intermingle. “Ya love my team, my friends, my family, and most importantly,” he trails off brushing your noses together. 

“Ya love me.” 

“You’re such a sap.”

“Hah?! But that’s why ya love me, right?”

You keep teasing him as you continue to touch along his broad shoulders. “Nah, I’m mostly in it for the money.” You peck his nose and grin at his pouting features.

“Aw c’mon (Y/n)! Yer making almost as much as me with all yer photos,” he argues back, missing your teasing tone. You can’t help but laugh at the pout your soulmate is giving you. It’s almost too easy to fake argue with him to get him riled up. 

You lay your head on his shoulder and can’t hold back your laughs. “Baby,” you coo, “you know I’m teasing you right?”

Since you can’t see his face, you don’t see the ever growing smirk as he nods into you. The blond tightens his grip on your hips, pulling you into his crotch so your neck is free for him to attack with his lips. He starts to kiss and suck lightly on your open neck, catching you off guard.

“Oh I know baby,” he lightly grinds his clothed erection against you, “I was just messin’ with ya.”

You lift your head in fake anger, but it dissolves when the lust in his eyes matches yours. He steals your lips before you could protest or bite back a response. The burning desire within you begins to rise as you feel his cock against your core, causing you to moan lowly into his mouth. 

“Mmm, feel my cock baby? Feels good, yeah? Been wantin to touch ya all evenin’.” He then brings your legs to wrap around his waist and continues to kiss you seductively. You feel his tongue swipe at your bottom lip before entering your mouth. His deep groan into went straight to your core and you move your hips into him. Atsumu lifts an eyebrow before pulling away, loving the connection of saliva between your lips. 

“I can already feel how wet ya are fer me, baby. Ya really want daddy that bad, huh?”

You can’t help but shiver at his voice when he says daddy to you and wiggle your hips, knowing what you’re in for. A whine leaves your lips as you pull him into your chest to feel him against you and so you can whisper in his ear how much you want him, your daddy.

Atsumu bites his lip and rolls his hips into yours at hearing and feeling your breath on his ear. He then promptly lifts you up, rest thing his lips to yours as his hands grope and fondle your ass. You can’t help but shift around as he carries you to your shared bedroom, seeking friction in any capacity. Atsumu chuckles darkly feeling you struggle against him, breaking the kiss to suck on your neck. If there was something he loved more than volleyball or you, it was leaving marks and traces of him all over you. Satisfied with the mark he left he growls out,

“I can’t wait to fuckin’ destroy you, princess.”

With that, you’re dropped onto the bed, awaiting orders from your love. His whole aura switched from teasing and playful in the kitchen to a sexual dom and you were living for it. 

“Take off yer shirt off, I wanna see all of ya.”

You lick your lips and nod, slowly removing your shirt and making a show of it. You don’t miss the way he bites his lip and whispers out a low “fuck” as you undress. You leave your bra on knowing that’s one of Atsumu’s favorite things to take off of you. You place your hands on the hem of your leggings and look to him, as if to ask him if it’s okay. He nods and you slowly remove them from your body, leaving you in your bra and thong ready for him on the bed.

The tall blond stalks toward the bed and situates himself in-between your legs. He brings his lips to your inner thigh, his brown eyes on you to watch for your reactions. His lips trail up the sensitive skin, kissing and biting as he gets closer to your awaiting heat. But he doesn’t give you what you want, not yet. He hears you whine as he moves to your other thigh and repeats the same actions. He can feel the heat your pussy is emanating, already seeing your juices leak out.

You whimper out, “fuck, please just do it!”

He sniffs, enjoying your smell as he slowly pushes your thong to the side. “Please what baby? Ya gotta use yer words.”

You hips roll as his fingertips graze over where you want him the most. You hate his teasing nature, but you love the reward you get after. “P-please just put your tongue in me!”

Atsumu snickers before enticingly putting his tongue into your slit, making you gasp out and grab at his hair. He hums happily as he laps at you greedily. His tongue swirls inside of you in the best way. Your hips move off the mattress as your voice lets curses and whines escape. 

“Nuh uh baby girl. Ya gotta stay still fer daddy.” At that you feel a weight on your pelvis, realizing its his arm to hold you steady. With you unable to move, the need for release bubbles faster. Your breathing gets deeper and your voice rises an octave. Atsumu was always a king with his tongue, and for some reason tonight he was pulling out all the stops. Once you think you can catch your breath, he sucks hard on your clit and inserts a finger into you.

“Haah, fuck daddy!”

He laughs into your cunt and you moan at the vibrations. His tongue directly on your clit is making you see stars. He slyly inserts a second finger, already feeling you clench and tighten around him. That won’t do. He can’t have you cumming on just his fingers, but he does need to prep you. Before putting a third finger in, he sucks on your swollen nub to have you screaming in pleasure. His fingers scissor and stretch you out and it takes everything in him to not add a fourth. He knows you two haven’t discussed it so he knew to table it for another time.

“Shit, I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum. Please daddy can I cum?”

That makes him take his eyes off his fingers and to look at you directly and ceases his actions. He slowly pulls his fingers out of you and crawls on top of you. “Suck,” he commands and you do as you’re told. You’re a little miffed at not being able to cum as your pussy clenches at nothing while you suck his fingers. You know you’re doing a good job when you hear him groan and lose eye contact with you. You get into the valleys of his fingers and he moans, “yeah ya like daddy’s fingers? I know ya do. Now kiss me.”

He tilts your head up and you meet his lips in a sloppy kiss, tasting yourself again but on his lips. You feel him align his warm dick with your slick entrance and whine into the kiss. You break away from the kiss to tap his shoulder. 

“Wait ‘Tsumu,” you pant, “condom?”

He stops everything before frantically reaching for the nightstand. Atsumu knows he can get carried away when he’s in the moment, so he knows that when he gets tapped on the shoulder he’s forgotten something or needs to slow down. 

“Ah sorry, baby.” His voice sinks as he sucks his teeth feeling the rubber cover his dick. “Are we okay ta keep goin’?” 

You smile and nod at him, placing your hands on his chest in reassurance. He meets your smile and kisses your lips softly. “You ready ta take daddy’s hard cock?”

“Fuck,” you moan, “just fuck me already-Ah!”

He didn’t need anymore goading as he slides himself inside you. Your walls tighten around him and he has to control himself from wanting to pound into you. He waits for you to adjust to him before he pulls out almost all the way before your hips meet again.

“Ya feel so good, princess. Ya like the way daddy fucks ya?”

You nod aimlessly. “Yes! Please, I want more!”

His smile is evil as he grabs one of your legs and hoists it on his shoulder. “Be careful what ya wish fer,” he growls before snapping his hips forward. The two of you whine and moan together, unable to hear the sound of your juices and his hips squelching. “Aw fuck, baby ya feel too good.” He’s got one hand on your leg to hold it against his chest and the other rests lazily on your hip. He continues to fuck you into the mattress, your hands holding onto the head board behind you. Atsumu catches this and is displeased. He abruptly stops and places your leg down and around his waist, doing the same to your other leg, You look at him confused, “why, what are you doing?”

“I didn’t like the way you were grabbin’ the headboard, so you’re gonna grab onta me.”

With that he keeps pounding into you, now with your arms around his back. He’s never admitted it, but he loves the way you scratch and grip at his back when you two have sex. It drives him wild. “That’s it, baby. Hold on ta daddy as he fucks ya.”

Your garble out something as you hold him harder, realizing a free hand had escaped your upper body and has snaked its way to your clit. He begins to rub small and fast circles on the swollen nub, grinning at your reactions. He’s never sure which part he loves best: the way your voice gets incredibly lewd or how tight you get around him. This time he thinks it’s both. He continues to rub at your clit vigorously while pounding you all the same.

Sweat clings to each of your bodies as the rush of release is evident. Your eyebrows are scrunched tightly as you feel your orgasm coming. With a shaky breath you whimper, “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum. Please lemme cum daddy. I’ve been so good!” 

His hips rut into you as he chases his own release. “Yeah ya have. Been such a good girl fer me. Fuck baby ya feel amazin’! I’m gonna cum so hard. Cum with me baby girl.” His body moves faster the closer he gets to climax. Your legs are shaking and your toes curled as you feel the coil within you come undone.

You scream out, “I’m cumming baby, I’m cum-ah fuck!”

You tighten around him, causing him to curse and whine as he loses his rhythm. “Shit baby girl, I hnng,” he feels the condom fill with his seed as he humps the both of you through your orgasms. His grip on you loosens as he comes down from his high, rubbing them with comfort. He stays on top of you but not pressing down into you. The afterglow the two of you bask in is always something he looks forward to. His breathing returns to normal after a couple minutes of the two of you just laying with each other. 

“Fuck ‘Tsumu,” you croak out, “that was s-so good. Could you pull out?”

Atsumu lazily nods and slowly pulls out of you, not wanting to cause you any pain. Once he’s out, he gets off the bed and takes off the condom, tying it up and placing it in the trash can. He returns to the bed to place a kiss on your forehead before whispering, “You were so good ta me. Lemme grab us some water and towels, yeah? Do ya want a shower or a bath?”

You groan and roll to your side. “Some water.”

“Baby, I know, but a bath or shower?”

“I can barely move, Atsumu, what do you think?”

He chuckles before leaving the room and announcing, “I’ll get tha bath started.” He’s gone for a few minutes, but returns with two water bottles and a towel as you hear the bathtub being filled with water. He sits down next to you and places the bottles down. He opens one and hands it to you. You thank him and drink down about half of the bottle. He drinks from his own and uses his empty hand to trace the curve of your face. 

“Hey (Y/n)”

You lift your eyebrow at him, giving him your attention.

“Ya know I love ya, right?”

You hum and nod, sitting up to wrap your arms around his shoulders and give his cheek a kiss. “I love you so much, Atsumu. No one is gonna break our bond okay? We’re soulmates.”

He takes one of your hands into his gently, leaning into your touch. “I know I’m not here a lot cause of volleyball. But I do love ya. Yer my baby girl.”

You chuckle lightly and kiss his cheek again. “Sap.”

“Ya know ya love it. Now let’s go take a bath, yeah?”

~~~~~~~~

The diner is closed

[itsboketto]

output - gojou x f!reader

genre: angsty 

warnings: cussing , mentions of sex , death , Utahime mentions

disclaimer: please excuse my terrible writing state, i haven’t written in awhile so I’m just getting back into writing :) also this is in no way to shit on gojou, we all love him 🏹 and yes, i’m aware i used a different anime AMV but the song & arrangement was too good to pass off. thanks for understanding!

WC: 3231

proofreaders/editors: Amanda , Aldu , Zero , & Flora | Thank you so much for fixing my dumb mistakes 👉👈 appreciate you 4 very much!

This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. He was supposed to stay with you forever, he was supposed to go down on one knee and wrap your finger with a diamond ring, he was supposed to have a family with you and have the happiest lifetime with you. 

He was too late

A week ago

“Y/n-channn“ Gojou whined while throwing a fit on the bed you both shared. You gave a soft hum, rubbing your eyes with your hand, the flat side of your elbow slightly brushing against his soft fluffy white hair. “I want to eat breakfasttt!” he huffed, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest kissing you on the top your head. “If you hold me like this I won’t be able to cook for you. Make up your mind babe,” you yawned, digging your face into his warm embrace. “What if I want both?” “You don’t get both.” “I’ll get both anyways!” “No you won’t.”. That’s how your everyday went.

He’d wrapped his arms around your waist as you cooked breakfast for him, propping his chin on your shoulder and humming a familiar tune. The way he always ends up making your heart skip a beat every time he looked at you with his breath-taking eyes. How he always was your first priority and always will be. He was your one and only, and you both knew that.

Nothing really concerned you when it came to Gojou. You knew he was always out trying to save others or train his municipals so you never worried about what he was doing.

Today however, he seemed a bit off. He woke up on his own, cooked his own breakfast (and yours), didn’t even try giving you the slightest attention, and just went out to work after he finished getting dressed. The only thing you got was a quick head pat and a “Have a nice day”. You knew things were getting troublesome at work and he was working really hard to train your younger brother, Itadori-kun, but it still hurt that he was giving you the cold shoulder. You ate the sandwich he left on the kitchen counter, thinking about what could've happened that made him so stressed out . You decided to wait until he got home so you can talk it out with him.

He didn’t come back home. 

It started getting pitch black as you watched as the clouds flowed with the silent night. You already tried text him, call him, you even called your younger brother Itadori-kun but he seemed to be busy. You were worried sick, not because he wasn’t home, no, but about him acting strange this morning. The last person you called was someone whom you’ve been close to since childhood, Utahime. 

“Hello?” she answered, picking up faster than you thought

“Utahime, I know it’s quite late to be calling but I need some comforting” you sighed, hoping she’ll agree to listen

“It’s okay, tell me what’s wrong” 

You ended up staying on the call until the sun rose. You apologized to her for taking up her time and suggested to buy her a cup of coffee the next time they meet and she agreed happily. You fell asleep as soon as you hung up, exhausted from the overwhelming emotion you spilled onto your best friend.

The afternoon

The sun ray peaked through the window blinds, flushing into your living room, landing right straight onto your face. You rolled over to the side to avoid the sun light but in the process you nearly fell off the couch side. “Ah!! That scared me..” you grumbled while raising yourself up, yawning and extending your arms up to stretch out the sore bones. “What time is it?” you asked, twisting your head to check the clock; 12:09pm “SHIT I’M LATE” you cussed in a panic and zoomed to your room to get your prepacked bag and went to the kitchen to grab a slice of bread. You slipped out of your slippers and grabbed the keys hanging on the right side of the door. Assuming Gojou was back, you yelled back “Okay babe, I’m leav-” the front door unlocked. It pushed wide open revealing an image you’d like to be forgotten.

Another woman was clinging onto Gojou’s arm

Not only that, but he also reeked of alcohol as well. His face was terribly red and he couldn’t stay put. “Gojou~ I thought you said no one was going to be home” the woman hummed, looking at you with a smile. “Ah? I was sureee Y/n would beee at workkk nowww~” your boyfriend whined while using the girl as support for his heavy head. What the fuck was happening? Who is this woman? Why is he bringing her to our house? Is he serious right now? Too many questions flooded your head but there was one thing clear to you: get him away from that woman. “Um Miss, would you mind letting go of him? I can handle him from here” you gave the woman a genuine smile and stood in-between them, trying your best to drive her away. “Why should I let go when he brought me here, hm?” she didn’t try letting go, her grip tightened. “I appreciate your help, Miss. But he is seeing someone right now so it’d be best to leave” you tried to emphasize your lack of patience, not waiting for her to respond you yanked his arm away from her grip and immediately shut the door after the action. You could hear the woman cuss under her breath while dragging herself away from your unit. 

You heaped Gojou onto the living room couch and removed his mask. “Gojou, what happened?” you asked, trying to sound as calm as you could. “Y-y/n? Why are you hereeee?” he asked, adverting his gaze as if he were hiding something. “Who was that woman?” you asked again but firmly this time. “W-who are you talkinggg abouttt?”. He wasn’t in the right state to answer any questions no matter how much you push him. You let out a heavy sigh and walked towards the kettle where the already boiled water was sitting. Pouring the water into his mug, you walked back to him and handed it to him. “Get some rest, we’ll talk tomorrow.” 

Gojou left.

You woke up to a cold atmosphere. The sun was up and you’re alone on the couch. It took you a few seconds to remember what happened last time. “Gojou!” you said in an instant. You panicked, hoping he didn’t leave already. The bedroom, bathroom, laundry room, closet. He was gone. You groaned in frustration as you kneaded your fingers with your hair. Why does he keep leaving? What’s going on? Is he avoiding me? The questions just won’t stop coming and it began to impact you and your mood. You knew this wasn’t good since you had shift that night. “Fuck you Gojou...” letting out one last sigh before getting dressed.

“Itadori-kun, could you do me a favour?“

After the call with your brother, you grabbed your house keys and slipped into your sneakers. If he’s going to avoid you, then you’ll just have to go find him. Itadori sent you the address of the club he was at. You weren’t the least concerned about why he was there, all you wanted to know was what was happening. You stepped on the petal and drove to the destination.

At the club

You parked your car in the parking lot at the club. The sign read Sight Eight in bright neon lights. You were unfamiliar with the place, nonetheless the surroundings. Everyone seemed to be drunk off of whatever it is they are on, your heart paced faster the more you walked into the hell hole. It was crowded, too many people made you claustrophobic and stuffy, uncomfortable to the point you wanted to throw up. That didn’t stop you though, your mission was to find Gojou and leave immediately. 

“Hey sexy, would you mind dancing with me?” “Damn, your body looks beautiful!” “Come sit beside me, you little slut.”

You couldn’t help but to feel terribly uncomfortable, the way the men stared at you, the way you were out in the open for any of them to prance on you. It was horrible. You didn’t understand why the fuck Gojou would even come close to this place, he never mentioned liking clubs at all and he knew too well that you hated clubs.

You looked everywhere, yet you didn’t spot him anywhere. He would’ve been easily seen because of his tall figure and white hair but he was no where to be seen. You cursed multiple times under your breath, why did you even come here in the first place? To suffocate yourself? You lost thought of your motive, knowing you’d need some fresh air, you walked to the back door and stepped outside.

And there he was.

There he was, devouring another woman. Not just any woman though. He was passionately kissing your best friend, Utahime.

“W-what the fuck are you doing Gojou..”

He snapped out of his actions, whipping his head to the side to see the person he hoped he wouldn’t get caught by. He saw as you also looked at Utahime with an expression he couldn’t figure out. You were tearing apart, the two most important people in your life decided to go behind your back even after all the lies they’ve told you.

“I-it’s not what you think, Y/n!” he panicked, Utahime sparing him regretful looks. You couldn’t understand what was happening. Was this a nightmare? Are you hallucinating? No. No you weren’t, in fact this is at real as it gets and that took your a few moments to take it in.

Gojou told Utahime to leave and apologize next time as he wanted to talk to you privately. “Y/n, I can explain-” he started once again. He tried to approach you, but you flinched at his step, you took a cautious step back, terrified of him as he would somehow hurt you just by walking closer to you. “I don’t want to hear your bullshit anymore, Gojou” you said quietly and ran for it. You pushed the back doors open, heart pumping from the adrenaline. You couldn’t care less about the judging eyes and nasty remarks, all you wanted to do was to get as far away from the man you used to call your one and only. 

Your eyes burned from the tears, your sight got blurry to the point you couldn’t see properly, the sounds outside were practically silent. You looked down to your phone when it gave a notification sound. It was Gojou. Your blood boiled from the sight of his name on your phone screen that you stepped on the pedal forgetting you were on a red light.

The driver in front of you tried to stop you with the sound of his car horn. Beep beep beep! You couldn’t hear anymore. Ha! You were practically hysterical at this point. You didn’t even think twice as you slammed on the pedal, your hands moved on it’s own on the hand wheel and your head not thinking straight. You drove right into the traffic pole, almost barely missing the opposite car. The last moments you remembered were hearing an annoying ringing sound in your ear and blurry figures yelling at your motionless body.

GOJOU (song link : loop it!)

He didn’t have any particular reason for doing what he did. He was terribly exhausted from work and he needed an output to excite him before going back to the draining place. He’s already slept with many different women behind your back, always feeling disgusted towards himself before and after the many times he’s had sex with others. However, he easily loses his mind once he starts. This distraction was effective for him, which made him feel that the idea wasn’t so bad after all.

All he had to do was keep it a secret from you and hope that he never gets caught, right?

That was a horrible bet. Even more, he made himself defenseless to many others. He’s been used too many times to count yet he didn’t mind it because he knew it was going to make him feel better.

That one day he drank, he didn’t intend to get drunk. Someone must’ve put a drug in his drink when he wasn’t watching. He passed out on the 3rd shot. The person whom took him to a spare room at the party most likely fucked him while he was asleep. The next morning, he knew he fucked up. Walking up to a person that isn’t you. He wanted to go back to you as soon as possible but the woman was too hard to resist as she seduced him. He ended up drinking before going back home, the woman apparently found him drinking by her door.

He knew he was indeed suspicious at that point. Trust was something very important to you yet he broke it so easily. He didn’t end there, even though he already at the questioning stage, he didn’t stop. He continued to hook up with random women, sleeping with them, and then not going home back to you.

He knew this would hurt you. He knew his actions were more than unacceptable. But his addiction was too hard to handle.

“W-what the fuck are you doing Gojou..”

That voice, that setting, and that person were all enough to make Gojou’s world go upside down. He hoped it wasn’t the person he was thinking of as he whipped his head towards the voice’s direction.

It was you.

On instinct, he tried to cover the woman he was kissing right there an then. The person you were the closest to, the person you trusted the most, the person you called a best friend was the person that was pushed behind his back in attempt to hide her from you. 

He was caught. And caught by the last person he’d like to be caught by.

He couldn’t think of any words, the only sentence that came out was  “I-it’s not what you think, Y/n!” and “Y/n I can explain-”. Really Gojou? Was that the only thing you could mutter out? That sentence obviously did no better than what she just witnessed. He tried to approach you but of course you dashed the opposite direction. He ran behind you, trying to catch up to you but you were already in your car by the time he reached the cashier counter. He exited the club and yelled your name as if it would do anything to stop you. “Y/N!”

He reached into his pocket and called you, texted you, tried anything to contact you but you didn’t answer them. He groaned in frustration, sliding his back on the glass door then sitting himself down on the ground. Look at what he’s done. What was he supposed to do now? You probably won’t even let him in the house even if he begged. It was all over now. He made the biggest mistake of his life.

He dragged himself to the street and called for a taxi home. He stared out the window, wondering what will happen now. His eyes blurred from the burning tears. Just thinking of every outcome made him realize that you were never going to forgive him.

Bringg! Bringg!

His ringtone ringed! He excitedly flipped his phone on, only to face an unknown number. His expression immediately changed, was he too hopeful? Either way, he needed to pick up that call incase it was inportant.

“Hello? Is this Mr.Satoru?“

What? “Yes, that is indeed me”

“Hello Mister, this is the JLK hospital. Miss L/n had you saved as an emergency contact, I am here to inform you that she’s in our hospital.”

What? “What do you mean in the hospital-”

“She got into a car accident, Mist-”

He hung up the phone. He couldn’t believe his ears. Y/n? In a car accident? He yelled at the driver “JLK HOSPITAL. NOW!”. He was worried enough to the point he wanted to break the land under him.

At JLK

He threw the cab whatever he had in his wallet, not caring about the amount. All he was focused on was you. He pushed the front doors open, patients looking at him as if he were a mad man. He ran straight to the reception counter, panting in every word he spoke.

“Y-y/n! W-where is s-she!?”

The receptionist, frightened, tried to calm him down as he breathed in and out deeply.

“She’s in the emergency room-“

He didn’t blink for a minute, he dashed towards the emergency arrows, running through the quiet halls, only reaching the locked door at the end of the hall. He banged the doors, praying that you were fine. 

“LET ME IN! LET ME SEE Y/N!” was what he yelled continuously.

Nurses had to hold him back from disturbing the doctors and nurses trying to save your cold and still body.

He sat on the chairs right by the doors, waiting for some kind of reassurance, some kind of comfort to tell him you were still with him.

The large metal doors open from the emergency room. He beamed up, looking for a relieved or happy expression from the doctor but there was...

Nothing.

“I’m very sorry Mr.Satoru” the doctor said, pained to even look at you straight. “She was found with a glass barely missing her right lung, she also suffered from a major head injury caused from the accident..” they said but judging by his expression they decided to stop talking.

“C-can I go s-see her?“ he stuttered

There you were. Lifelessly lying on the hospital bed, covered up with a white cold sheet. He took a few steps into the room, only then stopping mid-way. He had no right to go near you, he had no right to mourn for you, he had no right to associate with you. He knew that, but he needed to see you one last time. Approaching you, seeing how your face paler than snow and your body just as cold as ice. 

He squeezed your hand, crying his lungs out. Screaming at you to come back to him as if that would help. He prayed for a miracle, somehow thinking you would open your eyes and wrap your arms around his broad back. Your head resting on his chest and how you nuzzled into his embrace. How you had small arguments with him and letting him win because you just loved him that much.

But that wasn’t going to happen anymore.

He didn’t even get the chance to say sorry. To tell you how much you meant to him, how much he loved you, and how much he wished he had spent more time with you. He kept regretting every decision he made, hoping you could somehow hear him begging for you to come back.

It took him hours to take in the reality. The doctors told him he had 5 more minutes before they had to take you away to the morgue. He shook your hand one last time, finally accepting the news. You were gone and he couldn’t bring you back.

“I love you, Y/n..”

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

This  Christmas  - A Harry Styles Christmas Series (Part 11)

Two life long friends. Secretly in love. Home for the holidays. Will they risk everything by telling the other how they feel? Or will they spend another year loving from afar?

Read these first    Prologue   Part 1    Part 2   Part 3    Part 4   Part 5  Part 6 Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Part 10   

** Harry poured you another cup of hot chocolate as you two searched around for places to go.

“I guess first we should decide if we want warm and tropical or cold and cozy,” he said.

“Hm… cold and cozy sounds nice,” you smiled. “But so does warm and tropical.”

“Okay… how about this… would you rather see me all bundled up or shirtless,” he joked.

“Let’s be honest, you’d end up shirtless either way. You have trouble keeping your clothes on,” you joked.

“You know you like that about me,” he smirked, knocking your shoulder with his.

You rolled your eyes, “How about we find a cabin in the mountains? We’ll be bringing in the New Year and I want us to be surrounded by snow and a fireplace. We wouldn’t get that somewhere warm.”

“Cold and cozy it is,” he smiled, kissing your cheek.

“We could go to the Alps?” You suggested.

“I’ll look into it,” he smiled.

You smiled, laying your head on his shoulder.

“So, you said you sent your book to your editor?” He asked. “What’s the next step now?”

“Well, my editor reads over it and suggests any changes I need to make it better. Or if I made any mistakes and what not, she calls me out on it,” you laughed. “And then I go back to writing and the process repeats itself until it’s finished. It’s supposed to come out in October of this next year, so we’ll see.”

“That sounds like a lot of work,” he said.

“Yep, that’s why I had to finish this draft so soon because the longer it takes me to write the first draft, the less time I have to do everything else… or I would have to postpone the release date,” you told him.

“And you do this with every book?” He asked.

“Pretty much,” you laughed.

“And you enjoy it?” He laughed.

“I mean don’t get me wrong. There are plenty of times where I get frustrated or annoyed, but at the end… seeing my book on the shelves of bookstores I went to as a kid or seeing a reader holding my book and telling me how much they love it. It’s worth everything in the end,” you whispered.

He smiled holding you closer to him, “I’m really proud of you.”

“Thank you,” you smiled. “And I’m really proud of you, too. I always have been and I’m sorry I wasn’t always there to tell you.”

“Hey, we said we weren’t going to focus on the past anymore, remember?” He said.

“Last time, I promise,” you giggled.

“Good,” he smiled, pressing his lips against yours.

You smiled against his lips, wrapping your arm around his neck, your fingers going straight into his hair. He pulled you over onto his lap causing you to wrap your legs around his waist. You deepened the kiss while he ran his hands along your back. After a few minutes, you reluctantly pulled away, pressing your forehead against his, both of you gasping for breath obviously kissing way longer than your lungs could handle.  

“How about one more Christmas present?” You whispered.

“What? No, you’ve given me enough,” he laughed.

You rolled your eyes, “This one is for the both of us.”

He looked at you completely confused.

“Am I really going to have to say it out loud because you don’t know where I’m going with this?” You laughed.

“Um… yeah,” he laughed.

You rolled your eyes before reaching down, grabbing the bottom of your shirt, and pulling it above your head, leaving you in nothing but a bra and jeans. “Get it now?” You smirked.

His eyes widened at first, but he quickly composed himself, “Um… wow… uh are you sure?” He asked.

You sighed, taking his hands in yours and lacing your fingers together, “I know you’re trying to be a gentleman and you’re making sure I’m not feeling pressured or anything. But I want you. I’ve wanted you for so fucking love and I’m tired of waiting. I want you to touch-”

You don’t even get to finish your speech before he pressed his lips against yours with so much force you almost fell backward. He tightened his grip on your hips, pressing your closer to him. You tugged on his sweater, begging to feel his skin against yours. He removed his lips from yours long enough to pull the sweater over his head, discarding it on the floor with yours.

Your hands quickly found their way to his chest and shoulders while his lips attached themselves to your neck. You tilted your head to the side as he pressed gentle kisses down your neck and shoulder, pushing the strap of your bra out of the way. He placed his fingers at the clasp of your bra fumbling around trying to get it off.

“For fuck’s sake what is wrong with this thing,” he mumbled.

You giggled turning your back to him so he could unclip it that way. As soon as it was, you felt the fabric fall from your body, which you happily discarded to the floor. Chills were sent down your body when you felt his lips against your back. His hands were around your stomach as you leaned against him. You reached your arm up around his neck, bringing his lips down to meet yours. He smiled into the kiss running his thumb across your belly.

The next few moments were all a blur as the two of you took off the clothes that remained before falling onto the bed.

“I love you,” he whispered, gazing into your eyes.

“I love you, too,” you smiled.

**

The morning after you woke up feeling a little disoriented. You felt itchy and you realized it was because you were wearing Harry’s sweater from last night and literally nothing else. The rest of your and Harry’s clothing covered the floor along with the ripped wrapping paper. The room was still lit up by the glow of the Christmas lights. You smiled remembering everything from the night before and it was everything you could have ever hoped for.

You looked over a Harry, who was staring over at you, “Hi,” you smiled.

“Hi,” he smiled, kissing your hand.

“Sleep okay?” You asked.

“Wonderful,” he smirked, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you closer to him.

“And… everything else… was okay?” You blushed.

“I believe one might describe it as mind blowing, Happy Christmas, I love you sex,” he smirked.

You giggled, rolling over on top of him, “Care for a repeat? Before I have to leave?”

“You gonna keep the sweater on?” he smirked, his hands at your hips.

“Why? Does it turn you on?” you joked.

“Only because it’s mine,” he smirked. “And you’re mine… and I’m yours.”

“If you’re going to keep quoting my own books, I’m not going to let you read them anymore,” you laughed.

“Hey, I’m just making the fantasy a reality, baby,” he smirked.

“Well, the real thing is better than the fantasy,” you smiled.

After a shorter repeat of last night, you two finally got out of bed, while you started packing up your things and Harry cleaned up the mess from last night.

“I don’t want you to go,” he pouted, wrapping his arms around you.

“I’m just going a few blocks over and I’ll see you tomorrow,” you giggled.

“I know, but I got used to seeing you here,�� he said.

“Me too,” you smiled. “But you’re going to be with your family and I’ll be with mine.”

He sighed dramatically, “Fine I guess I’ll let you go.”

You giggled giving him a quick peck before unwrapping yourself from his arms.

“I’m going to go say bye to your Mum and Gem,” you said.

He nodded, “I’m gonna finish cleaning up out here.”

“Thank you again for this,” you smiled. “I loved it.”

“I’m glad,” he smiled.

“Call you later?” You asked.

“You better,” he said.

Harry sighed as you left. He knew why you were leaving, but it still didn’t make it feel like a part of him was gone too. He was definitely being over dramatic and needy, but in that moment he didn’t care. Once he was finished cleaning everything up in the guest house, he saw an unopened box on the floor.

It was the gift Gemma had given him to give to Y/N.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “Guess I’ll just have to give it to her tomorrow.”

He put the box in the bag with his gifts you had given him and held it in on hand while he carried the bag of trash with the other and headed inside.

**

You were now at your parent’s house and it felt just like when you were little. You helped your mother in the kitchen making desserts, listening to Christmas music, while sipping on homemade boozy hot chocolate. When you were finished with that, you would change into your new Christmas pj’s and watch Love Actually together.

“I’m really happy you were able to come home,” she smiled.

“Me too,” you smiled. “I’m sorry I didn’t spend as much time…”

“It’s okay. You were working,” she smiled. “Besides, I’m happy you and Harry finally came to your senses.”

“Yeah, me too,” you giggled. “You know we’re both stubborn.”

“Don’t I know that,”she laughed.

“Oh, before I forget… he’s taking us on a holiday next week,” you smiled.

“Ooohh, romantic,” she smiled. “You seem really happy, honey.”

“Because I am,” you smiled. “It’s been a really long time since I’ve felt like this and if I’m being honest, the last time I felt truly happy was when Harry and I were still friends. During our years apart or whatever, I always felt like I was missing a part of me.”

“And now it’s back,” your mother smiled.

“Yeah, it is,” you nodded.

**

It was later that night and your parents were headed to bed. You weren’t ready for bed just yet, so you went up to your room and opened a Christmas romance book you’ve been wanting to read. Wrapped up in your favorite blanket, you read under the glow of the Christmas lights strung up inside of your room.

You were about halfway through the book when you heard a tapping at your window. At first, you thought nothing of it, but it kept happening. There wasn’t a tree near your window, so you knew it wasn’t the wind. You closed your book, placing your bookmark down to keep your page, before heading over to the window. You moved the curtain aside, seeing Harry’s smiling face staring back at you.

You unlocked the window, opening it up, “What in the bloody hell are you doing? It’s almost midnight,” you laughed.

“I wanted to be the first person to spend Christmas with you,” he smiled. “Sooo… are you going to let me in.”

You laughed moving out of the way so he could climb inside.

“I swear that used to be a lot easier,” he joked, pushing his hair out of his face.

“Well, you are old now, soooo,” you smirked.

“We’re only a few months apart, so if I’m old you’re old too, darling,” he smirked back at you.

“Touche,” you giggled. “Can I just say I’m a little disappointed you didn’t dress up as Santa. I mean with the whole sneaking into people’s houses on Christmas Eve.”

“My suit’s still at the cleaners,” he joked.

You giggled before putting your hand over your mouth, “We should probably be quieter. That’s all we need is my parent’s to wake up and find a boy in my room.”

“I think I can help with that,” he said before pressing his lips against yours.

Your arms went around his neck while his hands stayed at your hips.

“I’m really loving these pajamas,” he said.

“Hm, should I pack them for our trip?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, about that… I’m highly considering making our cabin a no clothes zone,” he smirked.

“Oh really?” You asked.

“What do you say?” He asked, pulling you closer to him.

“How about… why don’t we get started with that right now?” you smirked, unbuttoning your pajama top.

“Don’t mind if we do,” he said, picking you up and carrying you over to your bed.

About an hour later, you both laid in your bed with his arms around you as you laid on his chest.

“It’s after midnight,” you smiled, glancing over at your clock. “That means it’s officially Christmas.”

“And what a hell of a way to celebrate,” he joked. “I think we should make this tradition.”

You giggled, looking up at him, “Merry Christmas,” you whispered.

“Merry Christmas,” he smiled.

You gave him a quick peck on his lips before you two laid there for a little bit longer until Harry had to head back to his mom’s house.

**

AH! Only one more Part! I’m going to try my best to get it posted early tomorrow… but it may be later… or maybe Saturday. Depends on my time management and I don’t want to rush through the final part!

Also, don’t forget to let me know if you want a shorter companion fic of their holiday together!