#i enjoy it every week but im fully cracking up this time

[daliasdarlin]

This episode of mbmbam hit different I'm dying

[mydearesthrry]

the end - h.s.

a/n: and just like that, harry styles love on tour is over. thank you for the memories. hoping and praying h stays happy and safe and healthy always. enjoy nearly 600 words of me being emo also none of this makes sense and it’s so so shit but I had to post something im so sorry

🎀 warnings/cw: angst. fluff. harry crying

🐇 pairing: fem!reader x harry styles

💐 wc: 583

summary: following the final show of love on tour, you reassure harry that it’s time for him to rest now.

“C’mere Bunny,” she whispers in the muffled quiet of the dressing room. Harry was sat on the opposite side of her on the couch, and she knew to give him space at this moment in time. Harry was fully soaking everything in. Every ounce of love, support, every atom of appreciation he felt, he was allowing it to happen in the safe of his dressing room, no prying eyes there to watch one of the most vulnerable states he’s been in besides his love.

He looked up from where his head was in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. Her heart broke when she saw his face. Watery eyes, splotchy redness covering his cheeks, and pink pillowy lips damp from him flattening them into his mouth. He crawled over to her without a second thought, resting his body from his waist up on hers, twisting to bury his head into her neck, the tears falling at an even more rapid pace.

“Bunny, ‘s the matter?” YN asked, her lips pressed to his sweaty mop of curls, pecking soft kisses to his head.

“‘M jus- I dunno, I jus- I feel so loved, and I feel selfish that ‘M leaving them when they’ve given me everythin’ I have… I jus- It doesn’t feel… right?” He let his insecurities float around in the stale air of the room, wincing at the quietness that seemed to amplify now that he let his thoughts roam free, thoughts that he knew would now spill into his girlfriends.

“You— Harry, you saying that is more selfish than you leaving. Baby, do you know how long we’ve been on tour? Truthfully, do you?” She asked, a look of confusion blatant on her face as she pulled his head from the crook of her neck.

“I- no, time doesn’t really… ‘M not good at that stuff, Lovie.” He hung his head in shame and sadness.

“H, we got Peach in May of last year when she was a kitten, a few months before we left, and guess what, H? She’s stayed with Mum and has had babies, and my sister had her baby in June, a week before the tour started, and he’s turning two this year. So many things have happened, Baby, you’ve just been so caught up in this tour that you aren’t allowing yourself to see them happen,” She whispered, knowing he needed a little ounce of tough love in this moment. “You have to let yourself rest.”

“‘M so tired, YN.” His voice cracked, and she felt the tears begin to whir behind her eyelids.

“I know, I know baby, I’m so tired too, but you can rest now, my sweet love. It’s time for us now. You can— we can rest, and we can go anywhere y’want. We can go home, if you want, or we can stay at the villa, even. It’s just— it’s time for you to rest.” She allowed herself to get emotional, wanting Harry to know that he wasn’t in this alone.

“Thank you,” Harry whispered. “I don’t… I don’t deserve you, at all.”

“Bunny, you deserve more than me. You deserve everything that’s good in this world, sweet boy, and I kick myself every day that I can’t give that to you. I love you more than I can even explain, Harry. You’ve changed my life and have saved me, time and time again.”

Harry shook his head. “There’s no one above you. You’re it for me, I swear on it.”

“I know, H,” She smiled down at him. “I feel the same way. I always have and always will.”

“Can we go home?” Harry asked sweetly.

“Of course we can, Baby. Wherever you want. I love you.”

[winstonsns]

Hi! Can you write headcanons on the gang with the youngest Curtis (Curtis!reader) being a hockey player? (Platonic ofc) I watched Inside Out 2 and now all I can think about is how cool hockey is. Also your work is literally astronomical I love reading it 😭

the gang and curtis!reader who plays hockey (request)

authors note: i’m so happy you like my writing! but i think im gonna start posting every other day, im getting a little stressed out about it. i hope that’s okay with you guys, please enjoy! also i reached 200 followers, thank you!

includes ponyboy, johnny, soda, darry, dally, two-bit and steve

word count: 2.7k

warnings: cussing, getting hurt, blood

PONYBOY CURTIS

you had been talking about your next game for weeks, spending time at the ice hockey rink for hours on end for the past week or so

when the day finally came, darry and soda already had their schedules for work, both busy, so ponyboy volunteers to go to your game

at the game, pony is watching from the stands, hardly saying or making any noise besides the occasional cheer when your team makes a goal

as you have the puck, aiming towards the goal with your stick, getting ready to hit the puck when a player from the other team shoves you, causing you to fall to the ground and lose the puck

“motherfucker—“ you grumbled, standing back up and grabbing your stick as the couch waved his hands around, “time out!” blowing his whistle

“curtis, bench!” he commands gesturing to a spot meant for resting after getting hurt

you roll your eyes, skating over to the spot, pushing the door and sitting on the bench, you just began to feel the pain in your right side of your body

ponyboy walks over closer to you, yet still in the stands, asking, “looks like that guy hit you hard, you hurt?”

you look at him through the clear screen, replying, “my right side hurts… i’m guessin’ when i take off my gear, im gonna have fuckin’ bruises everywhere.”

“you’ll be okay,” he paused, trying to convince himself, “when are you gettin’ back in the game?”

as on que, your coach asks, “curtis! you good enough to get back in?” you stand back up and push the door open, nodding at his question and saying goodbye to your brother, skating onto the rink

pony does a sport too, he always feels disappointed when no one goes to watch him at his meets, he wants to feel supported

so he always goes to your games as he wants you to feel supported and loved

JOHNNY CADE

johnny knew you were excited for your hockey game that was coming up, so he decided to support you and go to your game

as he entered the building, he kept his head low because he had snuck in, not wanting anyone to notice

he glances to his left, spotting you, your teammates and the opposing team already on the rink

johnny smiles at you when you look to your right, seeing him sitting down at the stands, you wave at him before the referee calls for everyone to get in their positions

as you are all playing the game, he keeps quiet but his attention is fully on what is happening in front of him

skating to the opposing player with the puck, you take it and skate towards the goal when the opposing player puts their hands out, pushing you to the ground

“damn it…” you mumble, quickly standing up almost as fast as you were pushed to the ground

a goal was scored, so you stand in your place until you feel ready to travel over to your teammates

“y/n, are you hurt?” johnny asks, his voice cracking slightly as you skate over to the stands, both of you face to face but separated due to the dasher board

you shake your head although you are holding your shoulder in pain, apologizing as you had to go back to your team

he enjoys to go to your games because it helps him feel emotionally better, it forces him to interact with others and also puts him in a foreign environment

he just wants to support you too, he knows it was hard for you to not have your parents at the games and your brothers to not be available

he values your relationship and sees you as a little sister although you’re not blood related

SODAPOP CURTIS

your brother had taken a day off to watch your hockey game, as you had been talking about it for days

“you’re gonna do amazing, sis! when i’m older i’ll finally be able to say, ‘my sister’s a pro hockey player!” he exclaims, attempting to make you excited for your game

it works, you begin to jump around as you enter the building, soda following after you and patting your shoulder, waking to the stands

you change in the locker room, coming out in your gear

the game starts as you skate onto the rink, you and a player from the opposing team face off to get the puck

you gain the puck first, skating straight across to the goal when the same player from the opposing team hits your leg hard with the stick

soda furrows his eyebrows, a confused look on his face as he watches the scene unfold in front of him

the player pushes you to the wall as you yell, “you ain’t allowed to do that, jackass!” pain is felt all over your left side

the referee doesn’t notice, soda yells after you, “you okay, sis?” you reply by nodding and looking at him

your focus is brought back to the game when the same opposing player charges in your direction, the puck in his possession

you skate towards him then turn in his direction, both of you next to each other as you push him to the ground, hard

taking the puck and skating in the opposite direction, your brother cheers for you as you score a goal

after the game, your adrenaline wears off and you realize you’re in much more pain as you realize

the two of you drive home then you both sit on the couch, you lean into your brothers side as he rubs your left shoulder

you sigh, closing your eyes as he continues to ask you, “this hurt?” you shake your head before he reassures you that you’re okay

soda’s literally your hype man, he’s glad another person in the family is good at sports because he knows he isn’t

always tells you that you did amazing in your games and practices, doesn’t want you to feel insecure about it and truly believes you’re amazing at hockey

DARRY CURTIS

it was your first game without the whole family being able to go, so darry took the day off work to support you

he drove you to the rink, asking, “you excited for the game?” glancing at you for a brief second, his attention going back to the road

you shrug, replying, “i don’t know…” looking outside the window as you arrive at the building

the two of you get out of the car, walking towards the building as you move closer to your older brother, a bit nervous for your game

as you walk into the building, you see the rink and direct darry towards the stands, “i have to change. i’ll be wearing dark blue.”

once you are done changing in the locker room, you bring your skates over to the rink and tie them

after warming up with your team, the game begins, a player on your team has the puck and passes it to you

you skate to the goal, getting ready to hit the puck when you feel pressure on your stomach, as you look down, you see a player on the opposing team kicking you as they lose balance

rolling your eyes, you hit the puck into the goal as another player from the opposing team grabs your helmet, smashing your head against the wall

your head suddenly felt warm, like something was running down your face, you recognized it as blood

yelling is heard around you, feeling someone pulling you up and skating you to the edge of the rink, you feel arms around you and your vision is blurry

“y/n are you okay? you’re… bleeding, hey, does anyone have a first aid kit?” darry talks quietly before yelling to the referee

he walks you to the bench and sits you down, your ears ringing and you hardly have energy to keep your head up

you hear the referee coming over to you with a first aid kit, giving it to your older brother while he takes your helmet off and wipes up the blood on your forehead

the referee kneels down to your eyesight as you are looking down, telling you, “you’re real injured right now, i’ll give that sheldon boy a talking to. you go home and rest, it isn’t a problem. get better soon, okay, kid?” smiling at you and patting your shoulder before he leaves

once darry is done with wiping away the blood and making sure you feel okay, he asks, “you ready to go home, kid?”

it’s really rare for him to find time off from work, so if he goes to your games then you’re really happy

you remind him of himself when he would do football, his parents and brothers would watch his games and he would feel proud

so he tries to take time off to go to your games, loves to support you and make you feel happy when you see familiar faces in the stands

always tells you to do your best in the games, congratulating you after the games even if you didn’t do particularly well

DALLAS WINSTON

dally had offered to take you to your game, your brothers were all busy and he had nothing to do

as you skate onto the rink, dally yells after you, “kick their asses, kid!” sitting down and looking to his left, spotting a soda bottle along with a pack of cigarettes

the game starts and he grabs the cigarettes, placing them in his pocket and grabbing the soda, taking a drink of it

as he watches you pass the puck to others, the other team gains the puck, you chase after the player with the puck

he holds his stick in a position to hit the puck into the goal, as he swings, you happen to be right behind him, causing you to be hit in the face

dally yells, “hey, that little shit’s stick just fuckin’ whacked her in the face, man!” looking out for you, watching you put your hands over your face in pain

the referee calls, “penalty for high sticking! sheldon, you’re on the bench for two minutes! curtis,” he pauses, looking at you, “you feel good enough to play?”

you think before answering, “yeah!” taking your hands off your face, you turn your head towards dally

as you skate closer to the stands, he asks, “you okay, kid?” you nod at him, he continues, “hit ‘em back, hard.”

you smile and nod, beginning to skate back to your side of the rink, your friends swarming you and asking if you’re okay

dally knew his parents never gave a shit to be seen with him, so he wants you to feel cared for, he’s weirdly enough your chaperone even though he’s not responsible at all

if you ever want to practice but the rink is closed, he’ll probably find a way to break in so you can work on how you play

probably gets super pissed off when the opposing team scores for no reason even if they actually deserved it

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

two-bit and his younger sister decided to support you at your hockey game

you were already playing, keith and his sister found a spot to sit in the stands

you glance over to the stands, spotting two-bit and his sister watching you, you wave and smile at the both of them, directing your attention back to the puck

as your teammate passes the puck to you, you begin to skate towards the goal, preparing to hit the puck

right as soon as you hit the puck, a player from the opposing team shoved you into the wall, chasing after the puck and therefore preventing your team from scoring

pain shoots up your back, you would for sure have bruises all over once you got your armor off

two-bit’s sister gasps behind you, “y/n! are you okay?” concerned looks on her and her brothers faces

“yeah!” you yell back, glancing at the both of them for a brief moment, skating quickly in the direction of the puck

“y/n!” your teammate says, grabbing your attention and passing the puck to you

you skate across the rink, aiming the puck into the goal and succeeding, your teammates cheering for you

standing where you hit the puck, you try to rub your back to ease the pain, failing because of the thick layers of gear

your whole team is already grouped up when one of them turns their head, skating over to you and asking if you’re okay

staring at the ground, you whimper in pain, trying to rub your back again, two-bit noticing and asking, “y/n, you terribly hurt?”

you look at him, still standing with your teammate as the referee orders, “curtis, bench! doesn’t look like you’re feeling good enough to play!”

as you get escorted to the bench by your teammate, the player who hits you skates by the stands

“hey, way to go fuck face!” two-bit yells at him, making you turn your head and laugh gently

cares about you as he cares about his little sister, he goes to all of her school events as he goes to yours and your hockey games

sometimes he’ll just go because he loves seeing the smile on you and his sisters faces when you see each other, her running up to you after your game although you’re sweaty and tired

STEVE RANDLE

steve took the day off work to watch your hockey game, you had previously told him which position you would play as, the goalie

he glances to the left of the rink, seeing you with more gear on than the other players and a different stick

he watches the opposing team, switching his attention from you and them constantly

a player from the other team has the puck, skating to where you are, attempting to score a goal

the player hasn’t slow down fast enough, hitting the puck and also throwing himself onto you in the process

both of you were on the ground, you push him off and groan, your whole body hurting

“y/n, you good?!” steve yells, you shake your head as your body aches, he stands up as your teammates skate over to you, creating a circle around you

two of them grab your hands, directing you to the bench where you are to sit and rest, as you are injured

you call out, “steve?” you look around to find him, he moves near the bench yet still in the stands

“hey, you okay kid? looks like that guy hit you pretty hard.” he asks, concerned for you and your health, wanting you to check yourself for bruises or cuts

you breathe unevenly, “my ribs hurt.” straightening out your back and trying to relax, to try making your front feel better

“you’ll be alright,” he paused, glancing over to you once again to see you calming down, “how ‘bout i take you to get ice cream after this?”

you look over to him and smile, seeing concern and worry in his eyes, nodding as your referee calls, “curtis! you’re back in!”

as you are skating back onto the rink, steve comments, “take it easy, kid. don’t wanna have to call darry.”

he goes to your games because he knows you like to have someone there to support you, so you know he cares

steve normally doesn’t care so much about about things, rather nonchalant but cares about you as if you were his sister

he’ll be the most obnoxious person ever in the stands, yelling and screaming over everyone else

[camisoledadparis]

STORY: The night that changed it all

The night that changed things for Paul and myself

______________________________________________

So Paul and I had gotten together a bunch of times by this point.I really enjoyed being fucked by him and he enjoyed fucking my ass as often as he could.But I never knew how one night would change our relationship im such a big way.

Before that night Paul and I had had our initial hookup on election night at the hotel I rented. Of the 4 men I had been with that night, the first guy that came and fucked me, the bottom or the other top that participated in our foursome, none of them made their mark on me more than Paul.Paul and I had hooked up again in his car after I got off work and again in the same set up many more times.We had hooked up in a store restroom while my wife shopped. We had hooked up in a park a few times.We had attended a sex party that I had been invited to.We hooked up for a quicky at his place and a full night that I took off from work, while his girlfriend was out of town.He even took me to a gay bathhouse once as well.

Then came the night that changed it all.During the time Paul and I had been hooking up his girlfriend had went to visit her sister for a week.That was when we hooked up at his house.A few weeks later she left Paul.She had fallen in love with her boss and the week she went to see her sister she was actually out of town on a romantic sex filled trip with her boss.She told Paul she had fallen out of love with him and then fell in love with her boss.So now Paul had the place to himself.He wasn't to upset about her leaving since he too had fallen out of love with her plus there was a lot of anger over how she did it.Since Paul had the place to himself we would be able to have fun there.The first time we decided should be more than a quicky.So we planned ahead.I requested the night off.I told my wife I was working and left early to run errands before work.Then I headed to my lovers place.I arrived and Paul welcomed me in.He offered me a drink and we sat on the couch and talked.While we talked I reached over and rubbed his leg.He began rubbing mine.Each of us directed our hands to the same place, each others cocks.I then undid his pants and pulled his cock free, it began to harden up.I began to stroke his cock and leaned in to kiss him.We kissed deeply.Then I broke our kiss and leaned down to take his cock into my mouth.Paul grabbed the back of my head and began pushing down his cock.I took as much as I could take.He then began thrusting up into my mouth.I sucked his cock for about 20 minutes.

Then I heard Paul yell out, "I'm cumming".

He grabbed the back of my head and I took as much of his cock as I could into my throat.I felt him tense up and then felt the first splash of his hot cum hit the back of my throat.I gulped it down.Every shot of cum hit the back out my throat and every time I swallowed it.I swallowed his whole load.Then I pulled his cock out and laid my head in his lap as he messaged my head.We stayed lile this for a while.

Then Paul said, "We have all night.Are you hungry?"

"Well I had an appetizer, but I could go for some dinner," I replied.

So we ordered some food thru grub hub and then had a few more drinks while we waited.He put some porn on for us to watch.And then we got fully nude.This is the way we would stay the rest of the night.

Our food came and we ate and drank our drinks.We did all this while we watched porn and rubbed each others cocks every so often.After we finished I climbed on his lap and began to kiss him.We kissed passionately as I rubbed my ass against his shaft.I began to harden.When it was fully hard I let it slip between my crack and rub up and down over my hole.We were getting really wound up.

"Let's go to bed," Paul said.

I climbed off him and he got up and took my hand and lead me to his bedroom.In the room he turned on some porn and turned to kiss me.We held each other tightly as we kissed.His tongue darted into my mouth and our tongues began to wrestle.Paul grabbed my ass cheeks in his strong hand and began to squeeze them and pry my crack apart.Then he picked me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist.He carried me to the bed and laid me down.We was between my inviting spread legs.He began to dry hump me, sliding his cock between my ass cheeks.I was getting hot, I needed my.lover to fuck me and fuck me hard. 

"Fuck me, Paul.I need you inside me." I said.

"Get ready for my hard shaft baby," Paul said.

Then he reached into his night stand and took out a bottle of lube.He lubed my hole then his cock.He then placed the head of his cock at the entrance to my asshole.I felt him begin to apply pressure.The head popped in and he then began to shove all 9 inches into me.I let out a deep moan as I accepted his long rock hard shaft.I lived the feel of his cock entering me.After he was all the way balls deep in me he began his slow strokes in and out if me.

 "Fuck me baby," I said.

"Take my cock," Paul said.

He began to pick up the pace of his thrust.My legs were spread wide, feet high in the air flailing about with his every thrust.The sounds of our flesh slapping together with every deep thrust, filled the room.This combined with the sound of his bed springs squeaking, and the headboard hitting the wall.Smell of sweat and lube filled the air.Paul and I were grunting and moaning.The sounds and smells were a wonderful mixture that turned us on even more.

"Fuck me baby, this is your ass, take it," I screamed.

"Uuuuh, your ass feels so good on my cock baby," Paul said.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and began bucking my hips to match hos thrusts.The sounds of the bed and out flesh slapping spurring me on.I began flexing my asshole muscles milking his cock.I needed his load in me.We picked up the pace matching each others movements.

"I'm gonna cum," Paul said.

"Cum in me.Load me up with your seed," I screamed.

Paul gave a few more hard deep thrusts and then sank all the way into me.Then I felt his body tense and his cock head swell and knew he was about to unload into me.

"I'M CUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMING," He shouted.

"GIVE ME ALL YOUR SEED.BREED ME." I screamed.

Paul then unloaded into me what felt lie a gallon of cum.When he was done cumming he collapsed on top of me and we laid there lile that until his cock went soft and slipped out of my ass.Then he rolled off and we held each other and dozed off to sleep in each others arms.

I awoke an hour later, around 6 to Paul entering my ass from behind.We were still on our sides and he had lifted my right leg and was entering me.He began fucking me in this position.He reached around my waist and began stroking my cock as he began fucking me harder.We fucked like this for about 20 minutes and then he unloaded his seed into me.Then we cuddled some more.

About 30 minutes later he got up and said, "I'm gonna take a shower.Wanna join me?" 

"Sure be in in a minute," I replied.

I heard the shower start and the door close.A few minutes later I got up out of the bed and headed for the bathroom.Paul was standing under the hot steamy water letting it run down his sexy body.I peed and then joined him im the shower.We began to kiss, Paul grabbing my.ass cheeks and squeezing them.Then he broke our embrace and reached for the scrubber and soaped it up.Then he began to wash my chest.He then moved to other areas of my body lathering me.up and washing my body.Then it was his turn and he handed me the scrubber.I added more soap and started to scrub him.Paying extra attention to his ass and his cock.When I washed his cock I stroked it a few times.It got hard and I knew he was ready for my.ass again.

I got a dirty idea.I was gonna have him fuck me in the shower.I turned around with my back to him and leaned against the shower wall and reached back and grabbed his cock and guided it to my waiting hole.We didn't need lube with the loads he had already put in me.Once I lined up his cock to my hole I backed up and sunk down the whole length of his shaft and took him all into me and began sliding back and forth on his cock.Paul took the hint and began fucking me hard.He grabbed my hips and began pounding me.The sound of our bodies crashing together with the water flowing between us echoed throughout the bathroom.

Paul fucked me hard and fast in that shower. His strong hands gripping my hips and his rock hard shaft pounding my hole into oblivion.

"Ungh, ungh, ungh, fuck my hole baby.Give me your load.I need it bad." I grunted.

Paul began to fuck me harder.My hole was feeling well fucked, but I didn't want him to ever stop fucking me.He fucked me for another 10 minutes and then unloaded inside me one more time.Then he pulled me back to him in a standing position with his cock still hard and still deep inside me and turned my head so that I could kiss him.His hands wandered up my chest and then down to my hard cock.He then began to stroke my cock.As he stroked my cock he began to thrust into me.This made his cock begin to harden again.Pretty soon he was thrusting up into me and stroking me at the same time.This time we lasted a little longer.After about 15 minutes of me being stroked I felt the orgasm well up in my balls. I announced to him I was cumming.He stroked harder and then I felt my balls tighten up and the load flow up my shaft.Then It erupted out of me and hit the shower wall.My ass must have clenched on his cock because he announced he was cumming again.He then unloaded inside me.

~~

After we came down from our ecstacy of our two shower fucks we separated and rinsed off and then turned off the water and dried off.He led me to the bed and we got in it together and cuddled.He then asked me if I wanted another drink.I told him yes and he jumped out of bed and left the room.

A few minutes later he returned with two glasses of red wine.He handed me mine and we toasted to our wonderful sex.Then we drank our glasses and cuddled up watching the porn that was paying on the bedroom tv.We needed to recover from all the fucking we had done.

After about an hour of watching porn I looked over and noticed his cock had hardened up again.He was ready for more of my hot hole.I began to suck his cock to make it extra hard.Then I climbed up and straddled his waist and lowered myself down onto his glorious cock.I impaled myself into his 9 inches.I sat there for a few seconds and then began to bounce up and down on his cock.I rode his cock for nearly an hour and then he exploded into my bowels.I could swear I could feel his cum shoot all the way up into my belly. After he came I collapsed onto him and we held each other.

I glanced at the clock and saw that it was 9:15.We had about 2 more hours and then I would have to leave.I needed at least two more loads in me before I left him.I knew he needed to recover so I wasn't sure I could get it but I was gonna try.

We rested for about 30 minutes, then I took his cock into my mouth and sucked it.I wanted to get him hard again so I could get another load.After about 5 minutes of sucking he was ready.I got on all fours with my ass in the air and my face buried in the pillow.I wiggled my ass back at him to let him know I wanted his cock.He didn't disappoint.After about a minute he was deep in my ass and pounding away.He pounded me hard in this position for about 30 minutes until he bread me deeply.I had lost count of the loads he had put in me tonight, but I wanted one more before I went home.It was now 10:20 and I was determined to get that last load.I let him rest for about 30 minutes again, because that seemed to be enough time to get his balls filled up again.

After the 30 minutes I began sucking his cock again.Then we got into a 69 position and sucked each other in this position for about 15 minutes.If I was gonna get me load in my ass I had to get his cock in me soon.I mounted him.and began riding him.I rode him for about 10 minutes and then he rolled us over staying in my ass.He rolled us into a missionary position and began fucking me harder than he ever has before. The bed was squeaking the headboard was banging, our flesh was slapping.The smell in the air was a mixture of sweat, lube, and cum.My legs were spread wide.I was grabbing his ass and pushing him into me while squeezing his ass cheeks. We quickened the pace of our thrusting and bucking. We were breathing heavy.We were moaning.We were grunting.A mixture of sounds and smells filled the room.They were turning us on and driving us to our lust and passion.I was in heaven with this manly stud fucking my horny hungry hole.

"I'm close baby," Paul said.

"So am I.Lets cum together," I replied.

Uhhn, uhhn, uhhn, uhhn," Paul said as he thrust deep into me over and over.

Ohhh, ohhh, ohhh," I moaned as I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck and sunk my nails into his back.

Paul increased his pounding, I began to buck up to meet his thrusts.I tightened both the grip of my legs and arms.I pulled him deep into me.He thrusted a few more times and then I felt Paul tense up.I knew he was there.His cock head swelled inside me.My balls began to tighten up.I knew we were gonna cum together.This sent me over the edge.

"I'M CUMMING IN YOU BABY," Paul shouted as I felt the first spurt of cum shoot deep inside me.

"I'M C-C-CUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMING TOO," I screamed.

We held each other tight as we both rode the wave of our mutual orgasm.He had cum.in me so many times.He had fucked me so much I was truly satisfied.I felt Paul's cock soften and fall from me followed by some of the cum he had shot into me as we drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up I realized the sun was coming thru the blinds.How did I get home? I don't remember drivinghome. Then I felt Paul's arm around me and realized I was in Paul's bed.I jumped out of bed in a panic and began looking for my clothes.

Paul woke up and said, "Shit its morning."

"I know I gotta go.I am so fucked." I said.

We headed for the door and he kissed me goodbye and slapped my ass as I walked out.I got into my car and began the drive home.What would I tell Janice.When I got home she was gone.I was fucked I couldn't sneak in and pretend I just got up early.I realized I smelled like sex and jumped im the shower.While I showered I figured I would say I brought the keys home and got up early to take them in at 5 when they came in and would need them and then I got breakfast.But that plan was ruined when Janice came home and walked into the room just as a text came into my phone.She looked at it and saw Paul's text.

It said. " Did she buy the excuse? Are you ok baby?"

Then she looked thru all our texts that I forgot to delete, talking about him fucking me and giving me his load.She knew the truth.

When I came out of the bathroom she was sitting on the bed with tears in her eyes and a look on her face that said, I hate you.Next to her on the bed was my phone opened to Paul's texts.

She said one thing, "Get out."

"Let me explain honey," I said.

"Just leave you fucking faggot.We are though.I hate you.Go to your lover," she screamed without looking at me.

I packed my bags and left.I began driving and drove as I cried.I drove aimlessly unsure where I was even going.When I finally stopped I was in Paul's driveway.I sat in the car and cried.Paul saw me outside and came out to check on me.I rolled down the window and looked up at him with tear filled eyes. 

"She through me out.She says we are done," I said, "I think I am getting divorced."

Paul helped me into the car and then went out for my bags.We sat on the couch him holding me.and reassuring me it would all be ok.He kissed me and held me.Then I laid my head in his lap as he messaged my head and back.I fell asleep in his lap.

Three hours later I woke up and looked up at Paul.He asked me if I was hungry.I nodded.He reached for his phone and ordered us lunch. When lunch got there we ate it and watched tv.After we ate Paul held me in his strong arms.I felt safe in his arms.We watches tv for hours like this him holding me and me crying from time to time.He ordered dinner and we ate and then watched a little more tv.

Around 9 he said, " Let's go to bed."

He tool me by the hand and led me to the bedroom.He undressed me and then himself.Then we crawled into bed and he held me and began kissing me.Then we had sex.But this time Paul didn't fuck me.There was no hard pounding.We had slow passionate sex.Lots of kissing and gentle touching.Paul made love to me that night.After he was done and he had came in me, we cuddled in the spoon position with me wrapped in his strong manly arms.We fell asleep.

But just as I was falling asleep the last thing I said was, "I love you, Paul"

I didn't know what my future held. Was I getting divorced.How would my new life without Janice be.We had been together for 4 years.What I did know that things changed between Paul and myself that night.Our future was looking pretty good.

To be continued...........

~~

~~

~~

[your-local-hoemie]

HELLO 🐢ANON BACK AGAIN WITH ZHONGLU BRAINROT THUS TIME YIPEE

Okayokay so imagine like immortal!reader who went into like a deep sleep/coma after the archon war to like recover and everything. So after zhongli retired (i forgot how many yrs after the archon war) reader finally wakes up and gets so confused coz their lover morax is dead?? But reader recognizes him (hes standing right infront of them) so theyre even more confused now and why is his name zhongli?? Either way reader jumps into his arms and hugs him and asks him what happened and everything so theyre reunited and happy now 🥰 and zhongli almost comung to tears coz hes so happy that readers alive 😞😞 all this time he thought they were dead T-T and they kinda live as retired gods in liyue enjoying their "mortal" life together ughhh so cute like an old married couple

OH MY GOD YES IM SCREAMING, CRYING, GIGGLING, KICKING AND ALL OF THE RESTVDHFJFJDJFJFKIFIG!!!!! 🙏🙏🙏

Watch me get too carried away with the angst because I love putting myself through pain.

Warnings: mild angst, fluff, Zhongli being a simp, gn!reader, not proof-read.

Characters: Zhongli.

It had been a long, grueling battle.

You had fought tirelessly next to your lover, Zhongli. Throughout the day, the entirety of the war.

He often spoke about his displeasure in you doing so but the thought of him possibly getting hurt, or worse, terrified you.

So after your complete disregard for your own safety. You finally struck down the last of the enemies as the war slowly came to an end, only to notice how badly injured you were.

Once Morax came across your broken and bloodied body, he swears it’s the closest he’s ever come to breaking.

Even after all the lives he’s had to take, the blood spilled in his name.

You were the one thing he couldn’t handle losing after this long, gruesome nightmare.

After he carried you back to the safety of your small, hidden cottage where you would both spend your time drinking tea and talking about your future together in Liyue before the war started, he tentatively cared for your wounds and watched over you every chance he could.

He obviously knew that you were immortal. he also knew that occasionally, if you were hurt or sick, you'd fall into a regenerative sleep.

So when you remained unconscious for a few weeks, he wasn't worried. After all, a few weeks in his eternity meant nothing. Though he'd be lying if he said he didn't miss you beyond words.

After weeks turned into months and months turned into years, his hope of ever seeing your soft gaze soon vanished as his time was becoming more and more occupied with rebuilding the land he once ruled over with you by his side.

When the last wall was built for the last house for the now growing population of Liyue, he had to make the decision to move on.

So with one last visit to the cottage, now hidden away even more by overgrown shrubbery, he placed what he thought would be his final kiss on your cheek along with soft begs of forgiveness and apologies, he finally mustered up the strength to walk out the worn down door one last time.

Now, many, many years later, hidden away in that same cottage now completely overgrown and reclaimed by the wilderness, you finally forced your eyelids to open and take in the almost blinding rays of sunlight streaming in from the cracks in the walls as vines hung down and gently caressed your skin.

Slowly sitting up, you took in the scene around you. This was definitely not how you remembered your home looking.

How long had you been asleep? Where was your beloved? What if he was still on the battlefield? All of these thoughts rushed through your mind as you forced your stiff bones to support your weight as you stood up faster than what you should of.

Now fully conscious, not to mention disorientated, you ran out of the small abode to scan the area for any signs of Morax only to find something that confused you even more.

Nothing. You found nothing of the chaos and bloodshed that you remembered so vividly, only the soft touch of grass beneath your feet and the cool summer breeze caressing your skin.

Turning around in a daze, you examine your once cozy and welcoming home only to find it now crumbling and overgrown with plants and wildlife

If this had been any other time you would have found the scene to be enchanting, but as the realization of how long you had been asleep slowly started to hit you, you couldn't help but feel your heart start to race with anxiety and questions.

Taking a deep breath, you gathered your thoughts as best as you could and decided to go to the closest village you remembered.

Needless to say, after walking for around 40 minutes, you were more than a little shocked to see the village now being a very large and very populated city.

"Excuse me, are you alright?"

Looking around with a confused expression you locked eye's with what appeared to be a guard of some sort.

"Y-yes um, would you mind telling me where I am?"

"Liyue harbor of course! Home of the great Geo Archon and Teyvats largest trading supply lines!"

Hearing the formal title of your seemingly lost lover you couldn't help but pry the poor soul from your confused questioning.

"Geo Archon? Morax? Would you know where I could find him? we know each other and-"

"I'm sorry, you must be new here. Morax was killed not too long ago…”

After hearing those words leave his mouth your mind suddenly went blank.

Not only had you been asleep for what seemed like centuries but now you’ve just found out that the love of your life, Your other half had not only died but was also murdered.

Not saying anything else, you took your leave and started walking aimlessly through the city streets that now felt even more foreign that what they did before.

You did your best to try and take in your new surroundings and find out just how long you had been unconscious for but the looming grief that wrecked your heart just seemed to get worse with every mention of Morax.

After spending a few hours aimlessly walking around the harbour you decided that all you needed right now was to process your thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, you say yourself down on a wall that overlooked what seemed to be the centre of a market place that was now silent of any busy citizens as the moon rose up above the horizon highlighting the buildings with a soft glow.

The only signs of life left now were a handful of fishermen packing up their boats for the night and a small tea house that overlooked the street leading ti the harbour that was occupied by two sails men that were selling fish at the dock earlier and-

You feel your heart stop in your chest as you lean forward to take in the silhouette of a tall man with posture matching that of a plank of wood and a very familiar looking rat tail.

There’s no way. It’s impossible. You just found out he died in front of all of Liyue harbour’s citizens just months earlier.

You were so convinced that it was just the grief making your mind go fuzzy that you got up and decided to walk and find a place when you heard him speak.

“Ah, yes. This tea is superb as always”

You swear you dug your heels so hard into the ground that it left a mark in the stone beneath you.

“Morax..?”

The man froze solid in place at hearing his old name come from such a familiar voice that he could of sworn it was just his ears playing tricks on him.

Hesitating for a moment, you took a step closer to him as his deep golden eyes widened at the sight of you now draped in the soft glow from the tea house.

“Y/N…? It can’t be”

Through your vision that’s now blurred with tears you could see him stand up before slowly walking down the steps towards your figure before speaking words that could barley be heard over the gentle breeze.

“It really is… Celestia it really is you!”

Without a second thought, you ran up to him and the your arms around his waist before sobbing into his chest (heh breakdown boobies)

Not saying another word he kneeled on the ground holding your shaking body in his strong arms, not even bothering to hold back the tears running down his cheeks.

“I.. I thought you were dead! Everyone told me you were killed and I-”

“As did I, my love. I thought I lost you many centuries ago and that I lost the blessing of seeing your smile once more”

You both stayed like that for a while longer as he held you close to his chest as physically possible, almost as if he feared that the second he let you go, you’d disappear again.

When you both recovered from the shock of finding each other after believing you’d lost the other one for eternity, “Morax” took you to a quiet place away from the city and explained everything that had happened since you fell asleep all those centuries ago and how he’s retired from being an archon to simply live as “Zhongli”

“I can’t believe you still remember me after all that time”

“How could I forget, love? Every second I spent without feeling your hand in mine was far worse than any tragedy I’ve bore in my lifetime”

“I suppose I’ll have to get used to calling you zhongli now, huh?”

You both let out a soft laugh while Zhongli wrapped you tightly in his embrace.

Times might be very different to what they were but you have all the time in the world to adjust, and you can rest assured that the love of your life won’t leave your side ever again for the rest of eternity.

“I love you, Morax”

“Forever and always, my dear~”

AAAAHAJDLEIDODODEDJDIR WHY DID I ALMOST CRY WRITING THIS HNGGGGGGGFGG IT’S SO BAD

My creative juices became a waterfall and then a whole ass tsunami. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t missed staying up until literally 5am to write about my boys T-T

[f0point5]

Although this isn't really all that related to anything, f1 fans genuinely have turned me off the sport completely. Like I no longer care. I want to be here for the racing not the constant drama and rumours. And I get that that's the sport but fuck me. I've fully separated myself from the drama in hopes to love the sport. I used to watch all the qualis, fps, f2, f3 and now I just don't give a damn. I watch the f1 race and then im done. Even then it's only if I can give enough fucks. Every week it's something new and another driver being blasted and having death threats, a new girlfriend hate train, new rumours and new shit every week. This sport isn't all that it's cracked up to be. It genuinely has gotten boring. I'm loosing all fucks for this sport. You dont care and I get that I just needed to get this off my chest cause bro some people will go fucking ham on you if you dislike the sport :/

It’s no one’s business whether you dislike the sport. You can make the choice to stop engaging with it at any time.

People forget it’s just entertainment. Like any tv show.

I like the off-track stuff, it’s part of what gives context to the racing for me, but it has been turned into a bit of a real housewives spectacle by liberty which has attracted a certain fan base. They wanted to open the sport up more and that was a good choice financially but it’s changed the fabric of the sport. And not everyone will enjoy what it is now and that’s okay.

[lightupthenight7-2]

.

[mp3chan]

saving up [F & S]

plz reblog/follow if you enjoy this! <3

pairing: seungmin x fem!reader

wc: 2.1k

tw: semi perv!seungmin, y/n works in a hospital (and overworks herself), unprotected sex (plz wear condoms I beg), seungmin is best bf, MINORS DNI

an: this is for my proofreader madi! happy bday bffie! ily <3 (no I did not proof this that well oops)

© copyright mp3chan 2022 (don’t repost, steal, or translate!)

“hasn’t she been working like everyday this week? and going to classes?” chan asked, starting to worry about you himself. they were all worried about you.

“yeah.” seungmin sighed, pushing his kimchi around on his plate. “i’ve told her to cut back on all the working but she just says she needs to pay for her tuition and rent.” he explained, not fully understanding your reasoning since you had a scholarship and financial aid.

“maybe you should go check on her?” minho suggested with his mouth full.

seungmin paused for a second, he had a key to your apartment, but you told him it was for emergencies and letting himself in when you were there only. then decided fuck it this is an a emergency to him. “yeah im gonna.” seungmin said, gathering his textbooks and shoving them into his backpack and making haste to his car.

the drive to your apartment seemed shorter than normal, probably because seungmin was speeding, he was that worried. seungmin left his bag in his car and booked it for your apartment, feeling a little relieved when he saw your car in the parking lot.

seungmin stood in front of your door for a second, still debating using his key. shaking his head he unlocked your door. immediately seeing your scrubs scattered in a trail leading to your room.

“y/n?” seungmin called out to you. “baby?” he padded as quiet as possible into your place, heading towards your room. seungmin saw your homework scattered on your living room floor, snack wrappers and energy drinks and coffee on almost every surface in sight.

“y/n? im worried about you.” seungmin sighed, slowly pushing your cracked bedroom door open, not sure what to expect when he walked in.

there you were, in your underwear, hair still tied up and sprawled out on your bed, completely asleep. seungmin sighed heavily, smiling at your sleeping figure. he felt better knowing you were just asleep, but he still didnt like how much you were overworking yourself.

seungmin didn’t want to wake you but he wanted to just look after you for a bit. he quietly started gathering your scattered clothes on the floor and tossing them into your hamper, then beginning to tidy up the sprawled out papers on your desk and organizing them by each subject you studied, and putting pencils and pens into your cup.

he didn’t even realize how much time had passed as he was tidying and just watching you rest every once in awhile.

seungmin froze when you began to stir in your bed, quietly groaning from the aching in your back and legs. you slowly opened your eyes, looking at him confused when his figure became clear to you.

“min?” you quietly called out to him, leaning up on your forearms. “why you here?” you yawned, watching him stand from your desk chair and sit on your bed with you.

“you never texted me after you got off. i was worried about you. you’ve been working too much, baby.” seungmin explained, reaching over and brushing the hair that fell out of your ponytail out of your face.

“just need the money for -“ you started to reiterate your reasoning, only to be shushed by him.

“i don’t care. you can’t be overworking yourself like this. you’re exhausted. i can see it on your face.” seungmin started to scold you, watching you shrink back into your bed, laying down.

“im sorry.” you apologized, you hadn’t meant to worry him. you were actually trying to save up for a down payment on an apartment for you and seungmin to live in, but you just hadn’t told him yet.

“don’t apologize…” seungmin whispered to you, laying down next to you, petting your head gently, trying to ignore how pretty you looked in your underwear. he’d actually been trying to ignore that this whole time to be honest.

“can i tell you something, min?” you said after a few minutes of silence, just enjoying seungmin being here and just petting your head gently.

“you can tell me anything, you dork.” seungmin chuckled. “but if you killed someone dont tell me so i can pass the polygraph.” he added, grinning when he heard you laugh audibly.

“i didn’t kill anyone!” you giggled, rolling over and straddling his lap, finally sitting up fully for the first time in hours.

seungmin tried to keep his composure, you looked so beautiful like this. you looked so innocent but everything going through his head wasn’t. your tits starting to spill out of the cups of your bra from tossing and turning in your sleep, your underwear riding up on your thighs. man he hated being such a pervert sometimes.

“minnie!” you shouted at him, noticing he was completely spaced out and not paying attention.

“shit. sorry. what’s up baby?” seungmin pushed his perverted thoughts into the back of his mind for the moment, they’d pop back up eventually, and turned his attention back to you.

“well the reason i’ve been working so much is because…” you blushed, shifting in his lap, making seungmin go insane for about the third time today. “well basically… i found an apartment.” you said, praying he’d just understand.

“you’re moving?” seungmin looked serious and almost sad immediately. he didn’t want you to leave him. were you moving far away? out of town? out of the country?

“well….we could be moving.” you smiled shyly, sighing when seungmin just looked absolutely confused.

“baby i can’t move right now.” he told you and you sighed again dramatically.

“minnie! i found an apartment! here! for us!” you told him, lips jutting out into a pout at his obliviousness. “if you wanna move in with me, that is. i know we’ve only talked about it a little but i found an amazing place right by campus it’s only a -“ you started to ramble, only to have seungmin flip the two of you over and pinning you to your bed.

“i can’t wait to live with you.” seungmin smiled, leaning down and kissing your forehead, smiling more when he saw your cheeks turn red with a blush.

“really?” you beamed, so happy that seungmin actually wants to live with you.

“of course. i can’t wait to wake up to you every. single. day.” seungmin whispered, kissing you between every word at the end. “can make sure you don’t overwork yourself. can take care of you properly.” he whispered, his hands starting to rub your sides gently.

“minnie.” you whispered, your skin tingling from his touch and your body heating up from arousal.

“you tired?” he asked you, wanting to make sure he wasn’t forcing anything.

“yeah…but want you to take care of me.” you replied, reaching out to pull him closer. “don’t wanna do any work.” you pouted, hoping your cuteness would get you what you wanted.

“my little pillow princess.” seungmin whispered in your ear, kissing from below your ear, down your neck and over your collarbone. “you asked so nicely too.” he teased.

“no teasinggg.” you whined. “it’s not fair.” you pouted more, it quickly fading as seungmin started to kiss down your chest.

“can’t wait to live with you baby.” seungmin told you, reaching behind you and quickly unclasping your bra, his mouth almost watering upon seeing your breasts. he was an absolute tit man, he couldn’t help it.

you let out a quiet moan when seungmin wrapped his lips around one of your nipples and swirling his tongue around, the sensation quickly causing the flesh to harden and protrude more.

“can spoil you like this every fucking day.” seungmin groaned hearing you moan already, his hands still roaming your body, going lower and lower as time went on. “can fuck you every day if you wanted. gonna spoil you so much.” he rambled, not expecting you to arch your back and reach out to him.

“want you to fuck me every day, min.” you whimpered, feeling your arousal begin to fully soak your underwear as seungmin got further and further down your body.

“yeah?” seungmin teased, looking up at you, seeing how flushed and desperate you look, his cock hardening just a little more in pants, which he didn’t know was possible.

“mhm. min please. want you.” you panted, tugging at the shoulders of his tshirt, trying to yank it off him as much as you could with his face being pretty much next to your clothed cunt.

“so cute.” seungmin chuckled, tugging his shirt off quickly and taking his pants and underwear as well while he was at it, then turning his attention to your panties, quickly pulling them off with his teeth.

“as much as i want to eat you out right now, i need to fuck you more.” seungmin groaned, standing over you again and spreading your legs with his knee. “fuck you’re so beautiful.”

you blushed dark red, as if you could get more flustered, and threw your arm over your eyes in an attempt to hide yourself.

“none of that baby.” seungmin growled at you, pushing your arm away from your face and pinning it above you. “wanna see you. all of your beautiful self.” he whispered, aligning his cock with your cunt, looking for any signs you didn’t want this.

“please…please.” you mumbled, reaching out to pull him closer as you felt seungmin slowly push inside your tight heat, groaning as he stretched you out.

“fuck….you take me so well baby” seungmin mumbled against your lips during the short time you both pulled away to breathe.

your brain was completely clouded, only thoughts were seungmin and how good this felt. his handsome face, the loving look in his eyes, the way his muscles flexed as he thrusted into you, how his cock throbbed when you clenched around him. just seungmin, seungmin, seungmin.

you couldn’t form any words, just incoherent mumbling, along with moans and whines.

seungmin smiled down at you, gently caressing your cheek. “i fuck you that good huh?” he chuckled, teasing you, only getting an immediate nod in response.

seungmins rhythm of fucking into you began to become irratic and rougher. you wrapped your legs around seungmin’s waist and pulled him as close as you could.

“fuck!” you were finally able to get out, the heat of your climax quickly rising inside.

“me too baby.” seungmin groaned, feeling your walls clench harder around him and your nails rake down his back, sure to leave marks.

“min! close!” you whimpered, pulling back to kiss him clumsily as you felt your orgasm take over, cumming around his cock.

“fuck! y/n…” seungmin groaned hearing your arousal only increased the sound of the wet skin slapping noise as he fucked into you.

“love you.” seungmin mumbled into your neck as he finally reached his high, his cum coating your walls and filling you up perfectly.

it took a minute or two for the both of you to calm down and catch your breaths. seungmin still atop you, petting your head gently, even in his exhausted state.

he finally pulled out and collapsed next to you. that’s when you realized he told you he loves you. for the first time, even if you already knew deep down he does love you. you knew you loved seungmin for awhile now, but you also knew he wasn’t one to say that very quickly.

“min…” you whispered, turning onto your side, ignoring how sweaty and sticky you both were.

“mhm?” he mumbled, half awake next to you, reaching out and pulling you up to his side.

“i love you too.” you smiled up at him, seeing him sleepily smile back at you.

“ill get to tell you that every day now too, since we’re moving in together.” he chuckled. “im gonna help you with the down payment, baby. i can’t stand seeing you run yourself ragged like this.” he told you, starting to drift asleep.

“alright min. thank you.” you giggled, not even bothering to tell him that your last shift was the last one you needed for the payment. instead just snuggling into his side more and shutting your own eyes.

you couldn’t wait to snuggle with seungmin every day. no more overworking, not if seungmin had anything to say about it.

[manjiroro]

Hiii can i request for Draken, Smiley, Angry and Hakkai having a very ticklish s/o 🥺

If you're not comfortable writing this it's ok

By the way I really love your writings <3

s/o who is very ticklish

characters: draken, smiley, angry, hakkai

content: fluff, gender neutral, cursing, slight crack

helloo thank you for requesting~~ aa thank you so much!! im glad you like them🥺 this is very cute so dont worry!! im sorry if its short iwndndn

i apologise for any mistakes and i hope you enjoy~~

d r a k e n

this man is considerate

so he won’t tickle you on purpose

he wasn’t aware of how ticklish you were when he accidentally jabbed you in the side

he just wanted to wrap his arm around you waist

but he was not expecting you to scream and run away from him

he was confused for sure and you were embarrassed

“What.. just happened?”

“I’m ticklish Ken, stop.”

so he takes note not to put too much force or to accidentally touch you in your sensitive spots

but even if he’s being extremely delicate, you would always flinch whenever he touches your sides or your neck

“Ken, could you be more gentle?”

“But I’m being as gentle as I can.”

so eventually, he just opts to hold your hand

it’s the safest thing he can do without you running away from him

but there was an occasion where he wanted to see how you would react to being tickled

would you be fine with it or would you be angry, he needed to know

so you were hanging out with him in his room, and you were lying on his bed minding your own business when he suddenly lies on top of you

you thought he wanted to cuddle and you were prepared to wrap your arms around him 

but you weren’t expecting him to start poking at your sides, making you squeal and try to get away from him

but draken is strong, so he manages to trap you under his body while you struggle to get out of his grasp

“AH, KEN- STOPPPPP”

you would scream at him in between your laughs

you were screaming so loud, you were sure that everyone in that building could hear you

you worry if people might think that the both of you were doing some inappropriate acts

the entire time, draken was amused by your reaction, he’s sure that he has never heard you scream this loud before

draken would eventually stop when your leg manages to slip out of his hold and knee him in his stomach

the poor boy ends up lying on his side, clutching onto his stomach while you laid beside him, catching your breath and wiping the tears from your eyes

“ Ken, what the FUCK?!”

you yelled at him, sitting up and smacking him in the head

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you better be. I’m never speaking to you ever again.”

you crossed your arms, turning away from him, making him laugh and wrap his arms around you

this made you flinch still, since you’re sensitive, and being upset, you smacked his arm away

from that day onwards, you refused to speak to him

eventually, you forgave him after the amount of times he apologised and the amount of gifts he bought for you

but it took you a few weeks before you even accepted his affections towards you

every time he would try to hold your hand, you would shy away from him, still not fully trusting him

draken felt bad after that and he swore to never tickle you ever again

but eventually, you gave in because you can’t stay mad at him forever <3

s m i l e y

i feel like nahoya would tickle you on purpose

he finds it fun when you react to him tickling you

so he’ll be poking at your sides and your sensitive areas whenever he can

sure he’ll get a few smacks here and there but to him it was worth it

hearing you squeal and jump was very cute to him

but he’ll tease you when you tell him to stop

“Babe, what the fuck?”

“What”

“Could you stop that?”

“Stop what? I have no idea what you’re talking about babe”

“I hate you”

“Love you too~”

the moment he found out you were ticklish was probably the worst day of your life

the both of you were out when he gently brushes against your waist, which made you flinch very hard

he then started laughing at you because he found your reaction funny

at the start, he would be more subtle like purposely brushing against your waist when he wants to hug you

and breathing into your neck when you’re hugging

you would tell him to stop after a while but that just made him even more eager to tickle the shit out of you

so now he’ll openly do it, poking your sides or your neck

and occasionally, he’ll tackle you, pinning you down so that he can go all out

while you’re screaming, crying and laughing under him, he’ll be laughing at you and your attempts to get away from him

“NAHOYA- AH- STOP-“

“Nah, I don’t wanna”

most of the time, one of your limbs would slip out and you’ll kick or push him away from you

but other times when you’re not so lucky, he’ll continue to tickle you until he feels like stopping

and when he does stop, you feel lightheaded from all the screaming and laughing that you’ll be laying there dazed

and he’ll laugh at you

once you come to your senses, you’ll sit up and smack the shit out of him

you’ll then ignore him for a few days or rather try to ignore him

because he knows you well and he knows how to grab your attention

he’ll bring you out or make you food and maybe crack a few jokes here and there

and you can never resist him so eventually, you would give in

and the cycle continues again

but nahoya knows your limits and he knows that you would never stop loving him no matter how mean he is <3

a n g r y

souya is very considerate too

so he won’t try to tickle you if you don’t like it

but there are times where he would tickle you on accident

like his hair tickling your neck while he’s hugging you and his fingers holding onto your waist a little too hard

and you would jump and accidentally push him away

the both of you would feel bad

“I’m sorry for tickling you”

“No- I’m sorry for pushing you away”

help the people around you are so used to this convo it’ll happen all the time

he found out when the both of you were cuddling, his hands were resting on your waist

and when he was slowly drifting away to sleep, you suddenly screamed in his face

he was woken up and he sat up immediately

“WHAT HAPPENED?!”

“YOU WERE TICKLING MY WAIST”

“NO?? I WAS NOT??”

and then the both of you had to explain to each other

that he didn’t mean to tickle you and that you’re really ticklish

so from then on he takes extra care when he’s about to touch your sensitive spots

he’s gonna tell or ask you first

“Can I put my hand on your waist?”

“Sure, why are you asking me this?”

“I don’t wanna tickle you on accident and make you scream in my face again.”

but at the start, souya is gonna be very hesitant to initiate anything because he doesn’t know if you’ll like it anymore

so he would keep his distance from you

and you can tell how badly he wanted to hold your hand but was too afraid that he would tickle you by accident

“Souya, babe, you can hold my hand you know?”

“But-“

“Don’t worry~ If you’re gentle it won’t be that ticklish.”

you’re really thankful that your boyfriend isn’t sadistic

souya just wants you to feel comfortable around him <3

h a k k a i

i honestly feel like hakkai would be ticklish too

but he wouldn’t be as ticklish as you

the both of you would end up accidentally tickling each other

when you lean your head on his shoulder, he’ll do that neck scrunch thing because your hair was tickling his neck

or when he brushes against your palm and you snatch your hand away from him

but the good thing about him being ticklish also is that when he tries to tickle you

you’ll tickle him back to make him stop

but for some reason, he always come back to tickle you

so when he’s eyeing you and was about to tackle you, you would always speak up

“Shiba Hakkai, don’t you dare. Why do you keep doing this, you’re ticklish too.”

“Yeah, but you look cute.”

and when you’re caught off guard, he’ll pounce onto you

hakkai will opt to hold hands instead of placing his hands anywhere else

he says it’s so he wouldn’t tickle you by accident when really he’s just shy to initiate anything more bold

the both of you found out that the other was ticklish when the both of you were about to go in for a hug

and around a few minutes into the hug the both of you jumped away from each other

“What happened?”

the both of you would ask at the same time

“Your hair tickles”

“Well, YOUR hair tickles”

the both of you did that spiderman meme where he was pointing at himself

hakkai wouldn’t actually tickle you when you’re in public, he doesn’t want to embarrass you in public

and he’ll rarely tickle you as well if the both of you are hanging out at your place or his place

him tickling you will be a once a month kind of thing

because he really cares about you and he doesn’t wanna do something that will make you upset <3

❥ masterlist

[omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts]

A Siren Song

Pairing: Robert Dubois/ Bloodsport x Reader

A/N: so I just finished watching the new Suicide Squad for the second time and I’m even more obsessed now than I was the first time I watched it. It’s a brilliant film with actually good humor, a non-sexualizing and actually empowering view on Harley Quinn (that leg scene?? y'all-), the rats?? Rat-catcher 2?? THE SHARK?? FLAG?? Who looked really good in this movie, he might be another contender for a story as well as Harley Quinn so lmk ;) but Bloodsport immediately piqued my interest because it’s Idris Elba and he’s gorgeous, I loved the complexities of his character and I want to write for him and no one else has done it yet?? so shoutout to @honey-im-emotional​​ for the support and push to do it! also love The Bodyguard movie, helped with the inspo <3 and i’m so sorry all of my stories are similar but I HAVE A TYPE enjoy and feedback is always appreciated loves and there will be SPOILERS so be warned, also if you want a Harley one next lmk ;) (it’s so long I’m so sorry lol)

Summary: You’re a highly targeted member of the royal family, the last in your line. Bloodsport is hired to be your bodyguard to both watch and assassinate the men after you. He believes it’s below his pay-grade, but reluctantly agrees, doing so to the best of his abilities. But the closeness brings more intimacy than you two expected, and sparks fly.

Warnings: foul language, sexual content, smut, choking, light bdsm, fluffy fluff, dirty dancing, dirty talk, violence and bad guys getting murdered, mentions of Harley x Reader (y’all sexy dance and kiss), reader likes women, dom! Bloodsport, age gap, alcohol consumption, jealousy, heavy kissing, slight angst, just a good time honestly

Word Count: 3,825

You dangle from the ceiling with your aerial silk, fitting your leg in the loop you’ve created, and dangling upside down. The rope wraps around your waist as you hang gracefully from your marble walls, flying. Your friend Harley Quinn taught you how to do this years ago, it now being your favorite form of exercise and relaxation when you need a moment to clear your head. 

As you lightly spin, twirling and dancing in the air with your chandelier reflecting light everywhere, a dazzling fairy floating in a sea of stars. You hear footsteps approach and move to hang upside down, facing towards the grand door. Robert Dubois, a.k.a Bloodsport, walks forward to stand directly in front of you. 

You have known him a few weeks or so now, him having to watch your every move and tracking down your family’s killers. He stands and meets your eyes as you dangle, hair falling below you.

“Hi,” you giggle, face flushed with heat. “I probably look ridiculous right now.”

He composes himself so he doesn’t crack a smile, but you see his lips twitch when he speaks, “No, Mrs. y/l/n.”

“I have a first name, you know,” you grin widely. “I’m younger than you, which hardly warrants such a professional title.”

“My apologies, y/n,” he fixes himself.

“It’s alright,” you ease, filling him with a sense of softness he hasn’t felt in a long time. You flip and land on your feet, letting go of your silks. 

You don’t notice as his eyes glaze over your body in your sports bra and shorts, something his cold, calculated stare should never succumb to, but he does anyway and he kicks himself for doing it. You’re his client and should therefore remain as such, no conflict of interest or thoughts other than to protect. He didn’t want this job, hell, he still doesn’t know why he said yes. Maybe it was the money. Or maybe it was upon seeing you that first time, in that star-studded gown the night of a charity gala you were attending, the way the diamond littered fabric hung over your figure, absolutely dazzled. The way you looked at him and smiled, like you were used to with all the other nobles and adoring fans. But he let himself believe it was different.

He can’t do that anymore, however, because he can’t allow for any complications. And falling for his boss is certainly a complication. 

You look at him and your eyes widen with realization, “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me cover up.”

You grab a tee shirt and toss it over your exercise clothes. He looks down as you do so and clears his throat. This brings a small smile to your face.  

“You called me in here,” he gestures to the necklace charm hanging around your neck that you can squeeze and send an instant distress signal whenever you need it. “What can I do for you, y/n?”

“Wanted you to spot me,” you tease, a smile overtaking your delicate features. You have a sort of stunning beauty about you that takes him by surprise every time he lays eyes on you. Which is often. You lay on your yoga mat and sit up straight with that same damned smile. 

“I’m here to do a job, y/n,” he says, his deep, honeyed voice coating the way he says your name like heat to sugar. “Not aid you in your workout routine.”

“What? Your assassin training didn’t include sit ups?” you smile, tongue in cheek.

“No, but if you need a way to kill a man with a book,” he presses a foot over both of yours as you begin to do sit ups. “Then I’m your man.”

“Yeah, you and John Wick,” you breathe out with a laugh. “And shouldn’t you be in here watching me already? Not by the door?”

“This room has no windows and no other door or entrance besides the one I was standing by. I thought you would want privacy,” he averts your gaze. “I’m sure it’s a hard thing to come by these days for a woman like yourself.”

You stop what you’re doing and look up at him, blinking, “Well, you’d be right,” you tuck your hair back. “So thank you.”

He meets your eyes, bordering on a smile, “You’re welcome.”

“Is that a smile I see?” you chuckle.

The smile shines, “It was a diversion. And you failed.”

You laugh loudly, “Will the next diversion be an actual laugh?”

“Wouldn’t be a proper diversion if you knew what it was.”

You tap his feet so he’ll get the hint and let you up. You rise to your feet and dust yourself up, “I appreciate your spotting.” You press a hand to his chest and hum. Warmth radiates from your palm and he inhales sharply. “For someone who wasn’t trained, you sure are a fast learner.”

He looks at your hand and back to your eyes, heat sprouting from where your hand touches. His hand flexes at his side as he looks around the room, to the door, seeing if it’s closed. 

“I-” he cocks an eyebrow then settles. “I think I should go.”

He watches you look at him with wounded eyes, brow lowered, you open your mouth then close it. 

You nod, moving away from him, “Right.”

You move to walk away when he stops you, mouth by your ear, voice dropping an octave when he whispers, “Just so you know-” you tilt your head up almost instinctively to hear him better. “-my assassin training did include reminding people who they are when they’ve forgotten their place.”

You look up at him fully now, “You work for me, remember?”

“I work for money. And you didn’t hire me. I was employed by Mrs. Waller to keep you alive,” he cocks his head slightly. 

“So it would be frowned upon by her when you’re unable to walk if you touch me like that again.”

You couldn’t believe he had just said that. Your eyes widen and your cheeks once again heat up, blushing. Your chest gets hot when he doesn’t break the stare like he’s calling your bluff, and fuck, did he do just that. You turn away from him.

You can hear the smile in his voice, “That’s what I thought.”

~~~

“Robert said that!?” Harley exclaims, eyes wide. Her jaw is dropped as she does her mascara aggressively in the mirror. “He’s usually so...”

You tug down your tiny halter top over your head, your bright, flattering makeup complementing the colorful swirling pattern, “An empty void with no emotion?”

She nods emphatically, agreeing, “Exactly! I had no idea he had it in him?” she raises her brow and smooths down her leather black and red dress, “Or that he wanted to put it in you-”

You slap her arm, chastising, “You don’t know that. It might have been a threat to actually paralyze me in a very not sexual way.”

“I say both are arousing,” she shrugs, platinum curls bouncing.

You roll your eyes with a small smile aimed at the floor, “Anyway-” you slip a belt through your tight jeans, hitting at your waist when you cinch it in. “We should get going if we want to get to the club on time.”

She pauses. “Y/n. Are you sure we should be doing this?”

You do a double take, “You’re telling me that we shouldn’t sneak out and have a good time?”

“I know the irony is apparent,” she looks at you with a knowing stare. “But not if it means you’re in danger. Which you are.”

“I know,” you frown. “But I’ve been locked in this house for months, I miss going out and having a life. I’m tired of being coddled.”

“I know, sweetheart,” she sighs, looking past herself in the mirror to flash me a sympathetic smile. She thinks for a beat and finally spins around, “Alright, screw it, doll, let’s go paint the town.”

You buzz with excitement, grinning, “Yay! Thank you, thank you! I wonder who will be djaying...” you trail off. 

Harley’s face falls and her mouth goes in a solid, straight line, looking past your shoulder, “I don’t think anyone will be.”

You laugh, completely oblivious, “Of course there will be. There has to be music. Dancing in silence would be pretty fucking awkward.”

“This moment is pretty fucking awkward.”

“What do you mean?”

A deep, irritated voice sounds off behind you, “Because you’re not going.”

You jump out of your skin, “Shit, Robert! You scared the hell out of me!”

“You’re not going to that club,” he folds his arms over his chest. You look over him and his casual, night wear: a loose tee and low hanging joggers. You almost wipe your mouth from salivating. Your outfit elicits the same reaction.

You pinch your eyebrows together, “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Yes, I can. I’m tasked with protecting you.”

“Yeah. And nowhere on your job description does it say ‘become my parent’. There’s not an opening now just because I don’t have one. I am a grown ass woman and I have been a prisoner in my own home. The same home where...” you pause, a lump in your throat at the reminder of your family’s passing. You shake it off, “I’m just tired. I want a piece of my life back. You can either stay here or come. Either way I’m going.”

He gives you a quick once over and contemplates his options before dropping his arms to his sides and letting out a long exhale.

“Fine.”

You somewhat relax at his defeated tone, “Fine, what?”

He relents, “You can go, but I’m coming with you. But if anything happens to you, I’m not to be blamed. I will leave your ass in that club.”

You grin and jump up to give him a tight hug around the neck. He stiffens before slowly rubbing your back. You sink into his embrace, feeling like you were floating in water, now above the surface as he brings you back to oxygen. Harley smiles at the exchange and she winks theatrically. 

He glares. 

It’s not long before you three arrive at the club, music blaring and colorful lights flashing over the crowded floors. From his stare and intimidating aura, the club staff thought he was a bouncer and let you all in immediately. But before he was roped into working, the three of you bee-lined to the bar. 

“The prettiest and strongest drink ya got, sugar,” Harley smiles at the pretty bartender.

“And what if that’s me?” she responds, ebony hair falling onto one shoulder.

“Then I’ll have to drink you later,” Harley gives her a flirty once over and you roll your eyes.

The bartender grins and gestures towards me for my order, I answer quickly, “Scotch on the rocks.”

Robert looks at you, poorly covering his shocked expression. “Really?”

“Yeah, why?” you look up at him.

“Didn’t peg you for a straight liquor type, Ms. y/l/n,” he finally lets his hidden laugh show through, butterflies erupting in your chest. The diversion definitely worked, whatever you were thinking about before this has immediately left you.

“Then this is going to be the first surprise of many tonight, Mr. Dubois,” you return the smug look as he orders the same thing. You both share a look.

The bartender slides you all your drinks, each of you taking a long swig for liquid courage for the night. Harley’s favorite Doja Cat song comes on and she gasps, clapping excitedly when she grabs you by the wrist, pulling you on the dance floor, “Come dance with me.”

You mouth a small ‘sorry’ to Bloodsport who you left at the bar, he shakes his head with a smile over the rim of his glass, watching you guys’ drinks. 

She dances wildly, jumping up and down, spinning to let her hair fall in many beautiful angles. She’s a powerful force and your greatest friend. She puts her arms around your neck and the two of you move in time with the music.

“So...” she motions to Bloodsport who’s being forced into a conversation with a woman at the bar. The woman puts her hand on his and he visibly shrinks back and whispers something to her that causes the most horrid look from the woman and for her to walk quickly away. You smile at the relief that interaction has brought you.

“So what?” you spin her around and pull her back.

“Quit with the good dancing, or I’m gonna fuck you myself,” she teases with a lightheaded giggle.

You smile, “We’ve tried that already, remember?”

“Too much history, I know, I know. Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice...” she whispers into your neck, kissing the soft spot under your chin. Your skin heats up under her touch as she drags her hands down your sides, pulling you close to her so that you’re flush against her chest.

You give into her and kiss her slowly, her soft lips melt into your own when her hands tug in your hair. Harley and you have always had a complicated friendship, with enough sexual attraction to fuel a nuclear bomb, but not enough romantic. You love each other but not in the way you both need. You were in love with Robert and she is continuing to explore her sexuality because she likes women and so do you. So as she trails her hot mouth down your neck in the middle of dozens of bustling bodies and you lock eyes with an angry Bloodsport, you knew exactly what she was doing.

You whisper, out of breath, “Are you trying the jealousy trick?”

“It worked in college, didn’t it?” she kisses your cheek, smiling gently against your skin. “And it’s working now.”

“I think you’re just obsessed with kissing me,” you kiss her back.

“It was a win-win situation, doll,” she grins devilishly and you can’t help but agree. “So when you’re done with him, come see me. But right now, I have a sexy bartender lady to drink up.” You grip her hand and let her make her way to her next conquest.

Robert had seen the tail-end of your kiss, his deft fingers clenched around his whiskey glass. He knows he shouldn’t let this sort of thing affect him, something as juvenile and simple as jealousy. But he couldn’t stop that feeling of being stuck, unable to think about anything except the fact that it wasn’t him with his hands on you like that, lips marking you as much as he pleases. Sadness washed over him in a tidal wave and he set his glass down, about to get up to leave when he spotted a man eyeing you from the door. He looked familiar and it wasn’t just attraction he sensed in his eyes but something far more sinister.

A few more men followed suit and began making their way to you in the middle of the dance floor. He had no time to consider the facts, just to get you out of there as soon as possible. 

You feel a rough hand tug your arm and turn to face who you think to be Dubois, you smile, “Enjoy the show?”

“Very much,” an unknown voice answers, and you look up, eyes wide. “Now why don’t you come with me for a little talk, beautiful.”

“Get the fuck off of me,” you yank your arm back, slamming your heel down into the perpetrator’s foot. More men surround you on all sides, making it impossible for you to escape or use your subpar martial arts skills. Aerial yoga was a very different ballpark than kicking ass. And you were just a beginner.

You poorly punch a man in the face, only making them all angrier when you’re grabbed from all sides, being dragged towards the exit kicking and screaming. You didn’t want to be that helpless damsel in distress, but as all of these men, men you recognized from your family’s death, were surrounding you, you couldn’t breathe. Their hands felt familiar, grabbing your arms like they’d done that night before you hid in the secret door in the dining room. You had watched these faceless men through a hole in that door, stifling your cries when bullets sprayed the room your family was having dinner in. So while they were coming after you and pulling you outside, it’s all you felt. That same feeling when he wasn’t near.

Drowning.

There’s a hand that pulls you back and you watch, dazed, as Bloodsport puts every man who touched you on the ground. It’s filled with swift yet aggressive and barbaric movements, controlled, expert chaos and it happens within moments. His chest is heaving when he looks down at you and scoops you up in his arms. You’d object in any other circumstances, but this time, head against his chest and tucked in his arms, you were okay.

His voice rumbles against your side, “We’re going home.”

~~~

Harley’s tears hit your shoulder as you sympathetically pat her back.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I shouldn’t have left,” she sniffles loudly. “I should’ve been there.”

You laugh softly, fitting your head into her shoulder, “It’s okay, Harls. It’s not your fault, there was no harm done.”

“There could have been,” she sighs. “I’m not letting you convince me to go out next time, you’re staying here forever.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, “Alright.”

She gets up and sniffs, wiping at her nose that’s now flushed from crying, “Good because I’m serious.”

“I know,” you laugh again, hugging yourself in a hoodie much too large for you, (because you stole it from Rick Flagg) swallowing you whole. 

Your eyes wander down the hall to where Robert is no doubt pacing around in your bedroom, the only room not laden with cameras (ironically for privacy). You kick at the floor in your fuzzy socks and think of an excuse to go check on him, even though you’re probably the last person he wants to see right now. You, frankly, don’t care.

“I’m gonna go-” 

“Check on Robert?” she finishes. “I know, honey. I was a psychiatrist, I’m not stupid.”

You crack a smile and grip her arm affectionately as you walk past her towards the bedroom. You don’t even take the risk of knocking for fear he’ll lock it and try your luck with just simply opening it. You see him, shirtless with a towel over his shoulder, a low hanging towel wrapped around his waist, while nursing his knuckles. He looks you over once you enter the room, trained eyes on you and the intimidation is definitely working already when he takes the damp towel on his shoulder and dabs the cuts on his skin.

He remains silent and you move to sit down on your bed, the awkward squeak filling the already high-tension atmosphere, thick enough to make your ears pop like you’re in an airplane too far up in the sky.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, drawing his eye. 

He hums and steps into your bathroom, washing off his hands. 

You frown at his lack of response, “Are you really going to pout this whole time? Because honestly, it’s beneath you, Robert.” You lean forward, watching as he walks out of the bathroom, still half naked, still silent. 

The silence is beginning to slowly kill you, especially when he looks this good, water droplets running down his chiseled torso from a hot shower. You didn’t let your mind wander because if the reaction your body is giving from the image before you was any indication, you want him. He walks in the room once again, mouth in an amused yet firm line. 

In actuality, he was ashamed of himself. Not so much of you. He would’ve left as that despair overcame him back in that bar. He would’ve left you there and abandoned his mission, leaving you to be hurt. If it hadn't been for those men, you could’ve been killed and it would be his fault. He alerted Waller of the attack, making up a lie about the two of you going for a walk at night and getting ambushed there rather than at a club. There’s a hit on each of those men being taken out as we speak as well as a search for their boss. Even though that still got him chewed out. He couldn’t imagine what she’d do to him if she found out the truth.

Robert walks slowly towards you, leaning against the bed frame, gesturing for you to continue. You watch him, distracted, as he wraps a bandage around his knuckles.

“I shouldn’t have kissed her to get a rise out of you, that was hurtful,” you exhale your words, quiet enough he wouldn’t be able to hear you if you weren’t within a breath of one another. You hang your head, “And it was stupid to go out in the first place when I am in this much danger. I could’ve been killed, and you could have been hurt. I’m sorry.”

He represses a laugh at the idea of him getting hurt, when the two of you both know that would never happen. But as the silence from him grows thicker, the more you start to ramble.

“Okay, this silent treatment isn’t going to work for much longer. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you need to stop.”

He gives you a look that says ‘make me’. But you both know you couldn’t if you tried, and vice versa. He thinks of you as a siren, one of those alluring creatures in old sailor tales that lured unsuspecting men to their painful deaths. As if he has no control of the way he feels about you. Which in a way he does, but he knows better. He knows better than to fall under your enchanting song, but he can’t help but be pulled beneath the surface of the water. 

Robert tenses when you move forward and the hoodie falls off one of your shoulders, revealing more of your chest, the smooth skin that lays there. 

His chest tightens when you look up at him and sigh.

“But thank you for saving me,” you say, both because you think that’s what he wants to hear but also because you mean it, you wouldn’t be here at all if he didn’t come with you.

He licks his lips and nods his head in simple recognition. He appreciated the apology, truly he did, but a part of him enjoyed the way you continued to ramble on, so he remained silent. This was an old interrogation tactic he learned when he served, keeping quiet always got people talking. He looks down at you and leans to meet your face, hands on either side of you. 

“I don’t know what else you wish for me to say,” you admit quietly, fiddling with your hands.

He didn’t know either but whatever you would say, he would listen.

“So I take it you’re not mad anymore?” you infer from his relaxed posture, heart beating out of your chest, fast enough that it catapults to your throat. 

He tilts his head down so he’s an inch before your mouth, breath fanning over your face. when he tugs you up to your feet, hands gripping the sides of your waist when he pulls you close. Your heartbeats began to sync up, chest to chest.

“I’m fucking furious, sweetheart.”

You meet his eyes, looking up in that seductive stare of yours you never knew you were capable of until him, and close the distance, kissing him lightly. His arms falter by your side and it’s the first time you’ve seen him hesitate, losing his cool. It’s the most gentle thing he’s ever experienced, everything in his life being forced, hostile, and malicious, while your soft lips against his are anything but. You kiss him like he’s not the monster he thinks himself to be. 

“Then let me make it up to you.”

“Fuck,” he grips your sides harder, palm moving to push you closer with his hand flat against the small of your back. “We shouldn’t.”

You search his face for uncertainty, but all you sense is a profound sense of clarity, in the both of you. “I know.”

“Will you regret this?”

You shake your head, hand against his cheek, “No.”

His dark eyes fall to your lips, pupils filling his dark brown irises, lust blown, “You’re so good, baby. You’re too good for me.”

Before you can tease him about the new nickname and object to that, his lips have crashed against your own. His hand slides up to cup the side of your face, drinking you in with his intoxicating kiss. You hum, content, against his feverish mouth and he opens it, vulnerable and on display. You feel his guard still up, tense and calculated, so you rest your hand against his chest. You press a kiss to his eyelid, his cheek, his nose, his chin, his jaw, his neck. He softens beneath you, groaning aloud as his hands tighten. 

“You don’t need to be afraid with me,” you whisper to him, tender fingers trailing down his shirtless chest, hot skin against hot skin. It’s enough to make you sweat.

He exhales and captures your bottom lip with his own, holding your face in both of his hands. The kiss grows heated and rushed, like you’re running out of time, as if at any moment those men would come back and find you and take you away from him again. His tongue expertly works with your own, licking the pout of your bottom lip, and coaxing you open. He slides his hand down between your legs, dipping his finger to find the slick in the middle of your thighs. You moan into his mouth, his other hand at the back of your neck when he buries his face in your shoulder. He kisses you there, the crook where your neck meets your collarbone, that damned sensitive spot. You succumb to his touch. His beard tickles your skin and you gasp when he sucks hard, a bruise forming.

You breathe a laugh, “Everyone will see if you leave a mark,” you tug on his hair when you thread it through his coarse curls. 

He falls under your spell and there’s something so ironically beautiful about this trained assassin with a heart of gold and the scars to show for it, being so open with you.

His hands, his entire life, have been forced to be instruments of death and violence. But as they slide down your figure, holding your face, and pulling you into him, they’re his greatest gift. He’s surprisingly tender with you. 

But then he has enough and pushes you down on the bed, arms trapping you on both sides.

He responds bluntly, “I don’t care.”

You part your legs for him and he releases a shaky breath. He slowly unzips your sweatshirt and it falls off you just as you do the same and tug his towel down. Both of you are bare before the other as you take a moment to drink each other in. You were just as, if not more, beautiful than he imagined you to be. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly as his hand drapes down the line of your figure. He touches you how someone would handle a glass vase filled with flowers. 

You take his face in both of your hands and kiss him, “So are you.” 

“I don’t think you know what you do to me, baby.” His hand finds your breast and squeezes while he kisses your neck.

You moan when he uses his other hand to grip your neck, thumb against your pulse point, “If it’s anything like how I feel right now, then yes, I do.”

He lifts his head up to watch your face as he chokes you, softly so he doesn’t hurt you but hard enough to play with your breath. His thumb opens your mouth and your legs tremble. 

“So I take it you’re into choking, my love?” You nod excitedly, unable to speak, and his grip tightens. 

You let out a squeak and he releases, face etched with worry, kissing your neck where he touched you. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry.” 

You shake your head and smile comfortingly, “No, baby, I’m okay. I’ll tap out if it’s too rough, I promise,” you tease.

His grumbling voice deepens, “Good... because, darling, right now all I want to do is bury my face in between those gorgeous thighs of yours.”

You inhale sharply when he opens your legs once again, looking up at you and you nod in consent.

“I need words, beautiful,” he smirks with his mouth just above your center. 

“Yes, please,” you breathe out and he responds with a swift lick to your pussy. He looks up at you and when he catches your eye, it’s as if the sensation grows stronger and your head hits your pillow.

“I’ve barely even touched you,” he mumbles into you and you feel his smug smile in your thigh. His fingers dip into you as he flattens his tongue and crooks them towards himself, you grip your sheets.

“Don’t... flatter yourself,” you sigh out. “I-it’s just been awhile.”

He removes his mouth and fingers from you, “So anyone can make you feel like this?”

You enjoy the feeling you get when he looks at you like that, his eyes dark and dominant, so you play along and nod. “Yes, in fact, I’ve had better.”

He licks his lips and gets up from the bed. He opens his drawer and you sit up to look what he grabs: a belt. Your heart beats excitedly in your chest even though you know you shouldn’t be. He gets back on the bed and climbs over you.

Robert looks at you, “Hands.”

You extend them to him wordlessly, watching as he ties your wrists together and puts them over the bedpost so you’re trapped there, unable to move.

“Now,” he holds himself above you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You’re to stay tied up until I say so, anything like that again and they get tighter. Nod if you understand me.”

You nod emphatically. You had never seen this side of Robert before, so in control and not afraid to go too far, it was so unbelievably sexy. 

The best part was he didn’t tie it tight enough, afraid of hurting you, so you could easily slip out your hands at any moment.

He kisses, painfully slow, down your chest and wraps his lips around your nipple. He swirls his tongue around the erect bud and you gasp, desperate to touch him. He looks up at you from you chest as he switches to the other, massaging the unattended one as he sucks, the pleasurable feeling overwhelming you. So much so you have to clench your thighs together, longing for some sort of relief for the tension building in your abdomen.

“Baby, please,” you whine, squirming beneath him.

He shuts you up with a bruising kiss while his hand slips down to enter you, two fingers in already. He pumps them in and out of you before sliding back down the expanses of your body and letting his mouth latch onto your clit. He sucks hard and you stifle a loud moan that would surely alert everyone in the home of your arousal. He holds you down against the bed with a palm flat against your stomach as you begin to lift your pelvis. His tongue enters you while his fingers take over, stimulating you with gentle rubs and flicks. But just before you feel that euphoric release, his actions cease and you’re left hot and flustered. 

“Robert,” you look at him with a deep frown.

He grins, “Y/n...”

You blow hair out of your eyes, “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” He puts his lips near your ear, “Are you ready?” You nod as he pushes himself inside you and you bite back a moan into his shoulder. 

You finally have enough, slip your hands out, and he pinches his brow, unable to hide his shock before you bring him down to press your lips against his. He melts into you, arms wrapped around you while he holds you close, filling you out in all the right places. He quickens his pace and you whine into his mouth, nails digging into his skin. You wrap your legs around his torso and he hits you so nicely. He was right, it’s the best you’ve ever had. He rises and looks at you, lips swollen and red from kissing, eyes clear and pupils large, and face flushed with heat. Your hair is in messy tendrils at all angles and you’ve never been more attractive.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises in your ear, placing kisses across your jaw. “Taking my cock so well.”

You whimper and his movements stiffen as he approaches release and so do you, walls tightening around him. He reaches down and rubs your clit with his expert fingers. You finish together, mouths open and hands all over each other’s bodies. It overcomes you in a tingling, perfect sensation, it continues on, leaving you aching and wanting more.

He rubs his knuckles over your cheek, softly and adoringly he looks at you. You tuck yourself into his arms under the blankets. Everything you both have wanted for a long time, laying right in front of you.

“Still want to make me not walk?” you tease, looking up at him.

He kisses your eyelids and you giggle, “Fuck yes.”

Part 2?

[actualbird]

You can’t just shove an Alice au in my head like that it’s going to be the next thing I think about for weeks- ghost

i aim to fill all yalls' brains with thoughts and concepts, MWAHAHAHA!!! anyway, ghost, sending this ask is just gonna make this worse because i must elaborate now (despite not knowing much about alice in wonderland kJBKJS)

tot alice in wonderland au where...

wc: 1.3k

...where mc is alice

once upon a time, a rose of a woman falls asleep under a tree. upon waking, she blearily sees a little white rabbit hopping around, looking at her with its bright blue eyes. enraptured, she reaches out for it only for the rabbit to stiffen in shock, to hop away. she gives chase, wanting to give it a treat as an apology for scaring it, and falls into a crack in the earth, falling and falling and falling and---

...where marius is the cheshire cat

dressed in a very fancy beautiful gorgeous purple suit, he slithers into every conversation as a plume of purple smoke, making mc cough and sneeze before he snickers, fully materializing with a wide, delighted grin.

"are you lost, miss?" he says, his teeth sharp and glinting, an odd contrast to the fluffy cat ears twitching on his head, the fluffy tail contentedly swishing back and forth behind. marius swirls back into smoke, curling around her body like before materializing once more, his body looming over her back, his head on her shoulder, his mischievous voice right at her ear "i can show you around."

"yeah, no, i dont think so," mc huffs, ignoring her warm face. she trudges forward and away from him, into the strange forest. and she tries to remember why this odd violet cat is so familiar to her. marius the cat. marius the cat..... she shakes her head. "i can find my own way back home."

"ahhhh, but what is "home", really?" marius laughs, reclining on his back and floating next to mc, moving forward with her in the air. "you know, miss, im the coolest creature around these parts. the other guys? total killjoys. really, you'll have a lot more fun if you hang out with me.

he floats towards her, his face so close to her own. with a wink, marius says, "i can show you how a real dream can feel like~"

mc is about to flick marius in the forehead but somebody else briskwalks from the trees, crashing right into marius, and---

...where artem is the white rabbit

"marius," artem grits out as he picks himself up off from the ground. when they collided, marius had simply become smoke again and artem had tripped into the dirt. artem dusts his own suit off---black with red accents, a long tailcoat behind him and, oh. oh, a little tuft of white fur, an adorable little bunny tail. mc blinks, tearing her eyes away from the tail (and also artem's uh...the general vicinity where tails are located) and looks up to the twitching, snow white, floppy ears atop his head. artem, having removed all the dirt from his clothes, turns to marius. "can you please stop floating in the middle of paths. i have a schedule, i need to be places, and when im on the way to those places i need to walk quickly and this is the 3rd time this week ive---"

"artem, honey, i keep doing it because you seem to enjoy falling for me," marius snickers, floating circles around a very flustered artem. the bunny ears are twitching a lot now, but mc is focused on something else. artem's eyes. a striking, beautiful blue.

"are you the bunny?" mc asks, catching both marius' and artem's attention. "the uh. the bunny. i think i scared you, earlier. im sorry."

"oh, uh," artem's face goes even redder. "no worries, it was. it was my fault. i shouldnt have stared at you i was just. taken aback."

"by what?"

artem looks away and mumbles his answer, too soft for mc to hear but marius hears it and overdramatically puts the back of his hand to his face.

"artem wing, the most uptight workaholic rabbit in all of wonderland, a romantic at heart!" marius announces before curling into smoke once more, circling them so they stumble closer together. he materialises between them, putting his arms over both their shoulders. "now this is a date im really interested in being a part of."

"not a date," mc mumbles.

"marius, it is quite rude to keep imposing yourself on those clearly uninterested," a voice croons from the shadows and---

...where vyn is the caterpillar (or, well, i made him a butterfly bc hes very very pretty)

"ugh, it's vyn." marius says.

"ugh, it's vyn." artem says.

"ugh, it's vyn?" mc says, looking upon the newcomer. golden eyes behind golden rimmed glasses and at his back, glittering golden wings. he steps forth from the treeline. also dressed in a suit---is there a magical tailor here????---the man smiles elegantly before taking a drag off of the long, ornate smoking pipe he's holding.

"good day, my lady," vyn bows like a prince, looking up through his silver lashes. mc is enraptured by the wings on his back, see-through and iridescent, they flutter slightly as he speaks. "i do hope these two idiots---"

"hey!" says both of the supposed idiots

"---have not spoiled your impression of wonderland," vyn says, taking her hand and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckle. mc cant help but blush at the action.

"okay, now whos rude?" marius hisses, the fur on his ears and tail standing on end. "you cant just waltz in here and woo somebody we were obviously already wooing"

"i was. not. wooing," artem chokes out and he has not stopped blushing since he got here. "i was simply---"

"see, look what youve done, doc!" marius whines, gesturing to artem. "youve made artem stupid!"

artem's ears go flat against his head, upset. "excuse me?"

"honestly, it is a miracle i can still live here," vyn says, his voice icy. "with you two bringing down the amount of intellect in this plane of existence, i would have expected the idiocy to kill me in my sleep."

and off they go, hurling insults at each other while mc watches. shes feeling a slight mix of annoyance and awe. shes been here for like, 10 minutes, and the three of them managed to find something to argue about.

sighing, mc steps back and leans against a tree, watching them bicker and trying to remember why all the men seem so familiar. a confident cat, a stressed workaholic, a golden eyed doctor. she cant think anymore past that because somebody from the shadows takes her hand and---

...and where luke is the mad hatter

"hello, watson," the man on top of her smiles. she was shocked from being grabbed and had pushed the other person, the both of them falling to the ground in a heap, and now there's a young man in a green top hat is smiling down at her, the expression somehow both gentle and manic. he's dressed as if he used to be wearing a suit but lost many layers, the only thing remaining being his trousers, his dress shirt, a loose bowtie, and a key hanging from his neck. "would you like to hear a riddle?"

"what kind of riddle?" mc asks breathlessly.

"or maybe a poem?" he changes his question. then he starts laughing. "or maybe what you really want is an answer?"

"i know you," she says, reaching up to touch his face. he shuts his eyes and leans into her palm, sighing happily. "i know all of you. you're---"

"i think it's time for you to wake up now, don't you think?" he says, moving closer. his body is so close to hers now that she can feel his warmth. "and in all bedtime stories, do you know what wakes up the lady?"

he doesnt wait for her answer. he simply leans down and presses his lips against hers and---

what a strange, strange dream that all was, wasnt it?

[hansolmates]

the proposal (m)

banner done by the ammmahhzzing @eerieedits​

summary; Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. pairing; editor!Jungkook x assistant!reader (f) genre/warnings; the proposal!au, fake marriage au, enemies to friends(!!!), friends to lovers, bouts of flangst, dry humping, slight blood but not too bad, lang, alcohol, poor jjk discovers he has the ability to feel emotion, poor y/n is in the middle as always w.c; 20.1k of endless banter and koo hiding his romantic side a/n; yeah, it’s almost summer. But i think we need a lil holiday magic in our lives! I rewatched the proposal this weekend and whipped this up. Why is koo so gosh darn easy to write? This is my longest fic since i wrote maze runner back in 2014!! i rec this extension to get fully immersed in 2pov! Enjoy and pls tell me if there’s any errors im too poopied to proofread it again drabbles; 01

“When I hired you, you basically signed a contract that said you’d do anything for me.” 

“Yeah, Jeon. I did. That meant like, getting you coffee or working late hours—normal work stipulations,” you can feel the hair on your scalp growing thinner, “not commit fucking fraud!” 

Your boss looks moreso frustrated than you are, but you cease to care. Jeon Jungkook has been nothing but a thorn in your side since your employment at Big Hit Publishing two years ago. Being a budding author who wanted to graduate from online sites and freelancing, you accepted the job as the editor-in-chief’s assistant in the hopes of getting your first book published. 

However, your dreams of being an editor are quickly dissipating, especially when Jungkook corners you this afternoon and announces that he may have left America during the time his work visa was still processing. He may have to give over his editor-in-chief position because there’s no way he can get a work visa processed in time. As a result of this information, he may have told his supervisors that you seduced him on a late night one year ago, and you two fell in love and have been secretly engaged ever since. 

Because y’know, your citizenship to this country is an asset to the company. 

“We didn’t have to go to Norway to PR Emma Watson’s autobio,” you huff, fingers going pale from how hard you were gripping your iPad. Jungkook is an esteemed workaholic, and you have no idea where it stems from. You remember that trip to Oslo, Jungkook insisting that you and him both go to make sure everything goes smoothly.

“You weren’t complaining when we went to that restaurant with the open bar.” he runs a hand through his coiffed hair, making the pomade untack from its style. “You got so drunk that Emma held you while you cried about global warming.” 

Wholly unamused, you frown. “Jungkook, can you please take this seriously?”

“I’m taking this seriously, you’re not the one who’s about to be deported in two weeks!” Jungkook hisses, face dangerously close to yours. Not that anyone would know what he’s saying, but you can tell from his defenses that he genuinely is nervous. 

“You wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew your Visa!” 

“I wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew my Visa!” 

At least twenty pairs of eyes are watching your confrontation, probably making their own conclusions as to what you two were fighting about again. Curse this office for having full-walled windows, you often feel like an ant in a plastic farm. Your work relationship is an anomaly to the rest of the staff. Before you started working at Big Hit, Jungkook’s assistants did not last long. Within the first week of working, you understood why. 

Jungkook whirls around his desk, glaring at the glass doors as he puts himself between the staff and you. “If you don’t marry me,” he says lowly, close enough for his hot breath to fan your face, coupled with his fresh-scented cologne. It annoys you how good he smells. “You’ll also be replaced because they want to give the my position to fuckin’ Karen of all people,” you fight the twitch of your lips. The only thing you two mutually agreed upon is the hatred of his co-editor, Karen. “All of the late nights we’ve worked together, the gallons of coffees you consumed, putting up with my shit, your dreams of becoming an author,” his eyes flicker to the way the grip in your iPad trembles, “will go down the drain and turn to shit. Whether you like it or not, we’re in this together.” 

Pretending to be unfazed, you bat your lashes, “So are you saying, you need me?” 

“For fuck’s sake—”

“Ah-ah, Jungkook. I’m not going to ask you to get on one knee, but you should at least tell me how much you need me.” 

You assume with great confidence that the only reason you’re kept on Jungkook’s payroll is because you’re not afraid to stand up to Jungkook’s bullshit. He looks positively disgusted at the mere thought of paying you an iota of a compliment. You’d say on average, you get half a compliment a month from Jungkook. You say half because he’ll compliment you, then downplay it with whatever flaw he can fabricate to get under your skin. 

He loosens his lavender paisley tie, annoyed. “Fine. I need you. I need you because you’re the only one who knows me well enough to be my wife. You’re the only woman I’ve had full conversations with in two years and knows all my dietary restrictions, favorite books, foods, and hobbies. By process of elimination, you are my best candidate.” 

“Romantic,” you roll your eyes, “I guess I do,” you push him away with a finger to his chest, “but I want a raise. And after we finish Sorn and Mark’s project, I want you to read my novel.” 

“Done and done.” 

“Well Jeon, I guess you’ve wifed me up with your ways of seduction.” you muse sardonically, feeling more upset for yourself than anything. 

“Fantastic,” he sighs, finally throwing his tie across the desk and plopping in his armchair. “Cancel the call with Janet, call PR about Irene Kim’s interview on Ellen, and order me a medium rare steak from J.J. Bittings with a side of brussels.” 

“Right,” you mutter under your breath as you pull up your checklist, as if you didn’t just give away your life to the Devil incarnate. 

Jungkook’s back is already facing you, focusing on his computer displaying two new manuscripts. “Oh, and on your way to J’s don’t forget to pick up your ring at Saks.”

“Bitch, you’re asking me to pick up my fake wedding ring?” 

Unbothered, he shrugs. You see the planes of his shoulders stretch beneath the blazer, because he’s deemed this conversation long over and he has work to do. “Yeah, but it’s real diamonds.” 

You’ve been seeing red for days. 

While the rock on your ring finger is indeed beautiful because Jungkook has impeccable taste, it drags you down and arouses the elephant in the room everytime you show up for work. 

You get enough stares on the daily, and you were just getting used to the looks of pity and sympathy for working under Jungkook, but now there are only snickers and playful winks as you trudge down the cubicles every morning. Everyday feels like the runway at a shitshow, and you are the headliner. 

Taehyung clapped you none-too-hard on the back when you showed up to work the next morning, congratulating you on the engagement. “Can’t believe you’re fuckin’ the big boss!” 

The rest of the staff poke their eyes out of their cubicles like Digletts, and you shush them, using your hand to make them sink down. 

Coffee is spilling down your shirt thanks to him, and you reach for tissues in his cubicle. “Can you not say it like that, please?” 

“Oh, come on. I heard from the supervisors Jungkook went on about how you seduced him late at night and took charge,” Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows approvingly, and you fight the urge to not throw up your coffee in his face. “How do you keep it so professional? Or do you save all that pent-up energy for after hours?” 

“You disgust me,” you grimace, stepping out of his cubicle and immediately regret wasting your five-minute break conversing with the typist.

Striding back into Jungkook’s office, he doesn’t hesitate to rattle off the next items on today’s agenda. He barely looks at you when you stride in, too focused on whatever corrections he’s slashing in red ink. 

“Did you get Taemin’s second draft?” 

“No, and I told him that if he can’t get me the draft by tonight he won’t get a publishing deadline and the number of copies published will be decreased by a third.” 

“And Taehyung’s author agreed to our stipulations?” 

“Of course, she’d be dead not to.”  you mutter, “she’s a nineteen year old Influencer, what would she know?” 

“Exactly, that’s why we milk it out as long as we can.” Jungkook throws the first draft in a large, intimidating pile, mixing in with all the others like a needle in a haystack. “Which is why it’s important we snag dinner with her this weekend, we can really—”

“What, this weekend?” your sense of equilibrium cracks, and you walk forward to put his hands on his desk. “I took this coming week off for Christmas. I’ve planned this for months.” 

“I know.”

“I can’t just cancel my flight! I saved up for that!”

“And?” Jungkook brushes off your fury like a piece of lint, “I’m Korean. Christmas is a fake holiday for me.” 

“You can’t just tell me I can’t go home to my family, it’s the fucking holidays!” 

“Why not, I’ve done it before. Remember on Valentine’s day when I told you the only date you have is a date with Kwon Boa’s publicist? Or on Secretaries Day when I argued that you don’t feel appreciated by society anyway and therefore why bother taking one extra day off? Or during Easter when your family screamed in my office on speakerphone that you should quit—”

“Okay,” no need to be reminded of how much you’ve wasted your life for this man, “but this is different. I’ve already bought plane tickets and this holiday is special. It’s a whole family reunion in the Poconos and we’ve reserved over five houses to fit all of us! I can’t just ditch!” 

“But I need you!” he replied just as hotly, in a tone that reminded you so many times of how tethered you are by this man. Two years have gone by, and the only thing that kept those strings together is the constant ache in getting your first novel published. “With all the marriage stuff and stupid extentions we had to make on these writers there’s no way we can get everything done before winter ends!” 

“You’ve done it before, why can’t you just ask Taehyung to assist—”

“Trouble in paradise?” 

A chill travels up your spine, and you and Jungkook exchange panicked eye contact. A tiny, pretty blonde lady struts in the room like it's hers, plopping a fruit basket atop Jungkook’s manuscripts. 

“If by paradise you mean our relationship, then no.” Jungkook’s the first to recover, meeting you at your side and stretching an arm around your waist. “I’d say work-wise things are getting a little rough, but nothing we can’t handle. We’re a team, after all.” 

“I just wanted to stop by as I was in the neighborhood,” the woman says, making herself comfortable in a leather seat reserved for guests. “Congratulations again on your engagement.” 

You tack on a smile, squeezing Jungkook’s arm a little too hard, but it’s enough to make the lady in front of you smile back. “What brings you here, Taeyeon?” 

Kim Taeyeon is Jungkook’s immigration liaison, AKA the person responsible for making sure you’re not breaking the law. She’s a pretty thing, with eyes sharp but a smile that’s soft and deceiving. 

“It’s just a shame you two have to rush a civil wedding,” Taeyeon sighs, looking at the window overlooking the city. 

“Ah, it takes some of the planning stress off my back, really.” you force a laugh, tugging Jungkook to sit on the couch opposite her. “At least one thing is done. The thought of planning a whole wedding with over two-hundred people is so stressful.” 

You weren’t really going to have a white wedding with Jungkook (however you may have entertained the thought, which is reflected in your Google search history) but you had to keep up the ruse that you were. A civil wedding in two weeks, then a quickie divorce a year later. 

“I know! My wedding was a real mess let me tell you, straight out of a movie!” Taeyeon is certainly the type of person to make you feel at ease, so at ease that it’s simple for you to melt your front. “But besides the point, are you two doing anything special for the holidays?” 

“Ah, well I bought a flight to meet my family in the Poconos,” you start, trying not to succumb to your nervous habit of wringing your fingers. You grab Jungkook’s hand as a reprieve. 

“And you’re not going?” Taeyeon’s gaze snaps, yes snaps, to Jungkook. 

You try to step in, realizing your flaw. “We’ve just been so swamped with work, all the immigration stuff and with these book delays Jungkook suggested he stay behind—” 

“But we’ve decided to prioritize our personal life and enjoy Christmas with our family,” Jungkook swoops in, threading his fingers between yours. He flashes Taeyeon a smile, and from the way his face lights up and his nose crinkles, you could’ve mistaken it to be genuine. “I’ve never experienced a big family Christmas, y’know. I’ve missed snowboarding too, I used to do it a lot in highschool.” 

“Oh, that’s just so sweet!” Taeyeon cooes, clasping her hands together. “Do send some pictures when you come back!” 

“Of course,” Jungkook stands up and attempts to leave Taeyeon out. You follow in tow, She obliges easily, mentioning something about just wanting to check in and she also has work to do. 

“Also,” Taeyeon’s head flickers to the people sitting outside Jungkook’s office. “You should manage those workers out there,” she looks at you, sympathetic. “Apparently, they didn’t peg you as the type of person to sleep their way to the top. And that’s just what I heard from walking down the hall once!” she laughs, tinkling brighter than a windchime, but you just tighten the grip on Jungkook’s palm. “Such a childish assumption. Things can be much more complicated.” 

She tips a “happy holidays” off her shoulder, and you both are smiling like the loving couple you are. As soon as the elevator doors close and Taeyeon is really gone, Jungkook moves to let go of your hand, but you hold him in your grasp. 

“She’s onto us,” you snap, tugging him closer to you so your co-workers wouldn’t read your lips. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” he bites back. He looks offendingly at the fruit basket adorning his desk. 

“What if we get caught, Jungkook?” you start to spiral, feeling your deepest fears crawl to the forefront of your brain. You’ve done extensive Google research on commiting fraud, and if you do get caught, Jungkook will never be able to come back to this country and you’ll have a fine of up to $250,000. Your boss doesn’t pay you nearly enough to get by with that kind of debt. “We’ll ruin this company, and our lives, and any hope of being published or credible.” 

“Hey, relax,” Jungkook whispers in your ear, the tone oddly comforting. He pulls you into his arms, and you barely have a chance to recover when he squeezes you extra tight around your waist. Jungkook only ever hugs you when doing PR, and even then it’s an awkward half-hug. Hell, he never hugged you on your birthday. “This is what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna book my flight to the Poconos, bring some manuscripts so we can work remotely, and no one will ever know.” 

You sigh into his arms, nodding tiredly. It feels nice to be hugged like this. His arms are strong and warm, and you feel small and protected. It’s been a while since you’ve felt like that. Maybe Jungkook did have a heart under all that muscle. 

“I’m putting up a good show, aren’t I?” he says, and you feel your heart drop just a little. Disappointed, but not surprised. 

From your view facing the cubicles, you see at least half the employees comically bugged with  heart eyes at you, enamored by your fake relationship. 

“Do not stretch your long-ass legs on this plane, Jeon,” you nudge your smaller leg away from your section of leg room, “Jesus, we’re flying economy!” 

It scares you how little you fought against Jungkook joining you for the winter holiday. It is the logical decision after all, Taeyeon is on your trail about your sudden engagement and you both needed to keep up the ruse. That includes going on family vacations. Also, the fact that Jungkook works through Christmas because he doesn’t celebrate it does make you feel a little bad. You can’t remember the last time the man took a vacation. 

The man in question barely moves at your weak attempt, and stretches his leg even further across your seat. “Sorry, babe,” he says, fishing around his seat for the included blanket. 

“It’s fine, Kookie.” You reply sweetly, and decide to kick off your shoes to drape a leg over Jungkook’s thighs, “you’re like a portable footrest!” 

He looks absolutely insulted at your objectification, but smartly decides to choose his battles and lets you keep your position. Tucking himself in with a scratchy blanket he waves you off, “Whatever, just wake me up when we arrive.” 

“What, no.” you pull up your iPad, shoving the note entry in his face. “I know everything about you, and yet you know nothing about me. I made this easy on you and just wrote everything down. You just have to read it.” 

“Seriously? I’ve known you for over two years, I’m sure I know enough about you.” 

“Really, then how do I like my coffee?” 

“Uh… hot?” 

You give him a look and he knows. With a sigh he grabs the iPad from your hands. Within seconds he’s giving you another dirty look, as if he’s skimming a conspiracy novel. 

“You know all this random shit about me?” Jungkook asks, scrolling down as to what feels like your life story. 

“Yes, because unlike you, I listen when you talk.” 

“Fine. What’s my favorite type of weather?” 

“A warm and sunny day, which correlates to your favorite kind of date which is walking along the beach at sunset. Cliché much?” 

“Okay, rude. Who’s my favorite artist?” 

“You like a little bit of everything, but since seventh grade you’ve been pining for IU. In the office, you like to sing along to Lauv and Hozier.” 

“Favorite movie?” 

“The Marvel Series. But you really like 5 Centimeters Per Second, you like the romance.” 

“And how do you know my favorite anime movie is 5 Centimeters Per Second? I’m pretty sure I’ve never told you that.” 

“Jeon, when we were promoting Momo Hirai’s self-help book at Anime Expo you were gone for two and a half hours at 1:50 sharp.” your boss’ Adam’s apple bobs and he swallows thickly at your admonition. “And low and behold, you gave yourself thirty minutes’ time to line up early because when I checked the schedule Makoto Shinkai had a panel on ‘The Otaku’s Perspective on Romantic—”

“Alright alright, I get it.” Jungkook slumps in his seat, as comfy as it can get with your legs draped around him and a seat at the far end of the plane. You know he’s trying to hide a blush, and you feel proud for making him a little flustered. “You’re lucky I’m a fast reader.” 

The plane ride goes relatively fast, with Jungkook asking quick questions about your family and other random things. It’s like playing a game of 20 Questions, instead it’s the final boss battle with 200 questions and if he doesn’t get them all right, the penalty is deportation. 

When you land, you’re both stiff and glazed over. Once you exit the terminal, Jungkook ditches you for the bathroom and says he’ll meet you at the luggage pickup. You give yourself a few moments, gearing yourself up for the long week ahead of you. At the luggage pickup, you see a tall man watch the revolving conveyor belt with interest. Either that, or he’s zoning out. 

“Joonie!” you cry, nearly dropping your phone upon seeing your big brother. He’s dressed comfortably in a grey sweat ensemble, as if he rolled out of bed and came straight to the airport. 

A bright grin takes over his face, and he doesn’t hesitate to smush your body against his. Under his tall frame you sway, your toes barely swiping the ground. “You’re alive!” he cheers, pulling back and holding your shoulders to get a real look at you. “I can see you’ve gained a little weight, eyes are a little dark, but I’m glad the Devil let you go. I still can’t forgive him for making you skip out on Jin’s wedding.” 

You don’t appreciate the way that Namjoon picks and prods at your exhaustion, but you know he means well. While he does not know your boss by face and name, he had enough artilerary from the billions of phone calls to learn about the Devil and the havoc he’s wreaked upon your life.

When you don’t respond he gets the cue that you do not want to talk about work this week, and he smacks his lips together. “But nothing a little R&R can’t fix! The ski resort nearby has a really nice outdoor jacuzzi and we could set an appointment for facials if you’d like. Or we could do absolutely nothing and turn into baked potatoes and watch movies until our eyes burn up.” 

“Both would be great,” you smile softly, catching two familiar suitcases make their rounds on your flight’s conveyor belt. You grab your pink luggage with one hand, and Jungkook’s black chrome one with your other. 

“So, where’s the new beau?” Namjoon rocks back and forth on his heels, hoping to get a glimpse of the mystery boy you mentioned you’d be bringing as of two days ago. 

“He really had to go to the bathroom,” you squint your eyes to make out the newcomers exiting the dropoff area. “Oh, there he is. Kook!” 

Like a goddamn model, he struts in your field of vision like nobody’s business. Unlike you who stayed in your apartment all day before leaving, Jungkook decided to spend a few hours at Big Hit in the morning to tie up most of the loose ends before your trip. He’s talking to what you assume to be is a client, noting the way his brow furrows as he clutches his phone with a tight hold. He’s changed out of his tie and leather oxfords, but he’s dressed crisply in a dark button up and blazer ensemble, still wholly overdressed for a family reunion. 

Namjoon starts behind you, “He looks...” 

“Handsome?” you goad, elbowing him, “Charismatic? Undeniable presence?” 

“Hard.” 

You don’t know what to make of that adjective, and you subtly shrink further in your jacket as you mull over the implications of his word choice. 

Jungkook steps up to the two of you, ending his call. His eyes float between you and your brother, and he manages to put two and two together. “Hey man,” Jungkook gives a practiced smile, extending a hand. “I’m Jungkook, I’ve heard lots of things about you.” 

“Good things, I hope.” Namjoon chuckles, returning the handshake. “I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you, though. Can’t wait to get to know you this week.” 

“Looking forward to it,” Jungkook takes his luggage and Namjoon grabs yours, leading you two out to his minivan. While Namjoon is preoccupied with getting the car started, Jungkook looks at you as if he’s already regretting making the trip down. “This girl has two braincells to her name. I just got off the phone with Sorn’s publicist.” 

“What trouble can an influencer do?” you reply in disbelief. 

“Exactly, influencing is the trouble,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “she did some mukbang and now she’s in the hospital for food poisoning.” 

“Ah, don’t get too worked up,” you help him lug your suitcases in the trunk. You spot Namjoon subtly eyeing you two from the rear mirror. Pressing a thumb between his brows, you make work to melt away the 11-shaped stress lines on his forehead. “Let’s just send her a Lush gift basket and she’ll be fine.” 

You ignore the way Jungkook’s gaze lingers on you longer than needed, running over to your seat at shotgun. 

The inside of his car smells like bergamot and lemon, and the sweet, vulnerable side of you wants to cry over how much you’ve missed your brother’s scent. It’s been way too long. 

Once you’re all safely in the car and driving Namjoon says, “So, are you going to hide the engagement ring or give the family a collective heart attack?” 

You tense, hands automatically floating to the teardrop diamond weighing heavily on your ring finger. The story that you two contrived about your relationship isn’t too complicated, but complex enough that it seems convincing. Instead of being your boss, Jungkook is your Literary Agent who gives you referrals to new and upcoming authors. You working closely together and bonding over the stresses of the publishing world, have kept a secret relationship under wraps for over a year to avoid any unprofessionalism or favoritism. 

“I was thinking about that the whole ride, actually,” you twirl the metal back and forth, watching it gleam in the light. “Mom and dad know, but I don’t wanna lie to the rest of my family. They’ll freak out because it’s the first time they’re meeting Kook and we’re already engaged. It’s just a location thing, y’know. You guys don’t live in the city so we’ve never had a chance to really talk it out.” 

Namjoon snorts, “Or, because your boss never gives you a break.” 

If Jungkook finds any offense, he doesn’t show it. Putting what should be a comforting hand on your shoulder, he says from the back seat, “I already told you babe, do what makes you comfortable. But I don’t want to lie to your parents early on, you don’t wanna make the situation any more complicated.” 

In other words, you better tell them about our engagement because Taeyeon could be hiding in the bushes waiting to catch us. 

“Smart man,” Namjoon says shortly, but you can’t tell whether it’s a compliment or not. 

“Yeah,” you exhale, turning to smile stiffly at Jungkook, “no use hiding the inevitable, right?” 

The next couple hours are overwhelming. There’s a party right when you walk in your winter villa, your parents throwing you a reunion party (not for your family, but for you specifically because you’ve been MIA since Big Hit) with the house filled to the brim with family members. Within seconds your favorite cousin checks out the rock on your finger and screams that you’re engaged. 

Everyone must be so high off the fact that you’ve made it to a family event that they’re elated you have a life outside of work. Jungkook is treated like a prince, charming the hell out of all your aunties and baby cousins. 

“Oh, pumpkin!” your auntie squeals, linking arms with you while you’re trying to eat your dinner, “I just hugged your fiancé, and he has abs! Lucky you!” 

“Auntie,” you hiss playfully, “you hugged him that tight?” 

“He’s part of the family, isn’t he?” 

“Right,” you force a smile, downing your glass of champagne. The bubbles burn your throat pleasantly. 

“Babe, can you come here for a second?” Jungkook manages to swim his way through the throng in the living room, holding out a hand for you, “your mom said that our room is ready, care to lead the way?” 

His smile, as pretty as you can care to admit, renders your aunt speechless, and she lets him whisk you away to a long hallway that leads to a set of bedrooms. Jungkook lets go of your hand as soon as you're alone, letting his palm run along the pictures that decorate your hallway. 

He stops at a picture of you and Namjoon as kids, faces tanned and lips cherry red from your twin popsicles melting on your hands. “Wow,” Jungkook pretends to be alarmed, “I didn’t know you used to be cute, what happened?” 

“Shut up,” you smack his hand away, walking ahead of him. 

“I thought you guys reserved a bunch of houses, why does the furniture look worn and there’s pictures of you everywhere?” 

“Our extended family has reserved houses, but this is actually my family’s vacation home. I used to go here every winter and summer break,” you reach a bedroom in the corner of the hall, smiling at your wooden name tag hanging on the front, “this is my old room.” 

It certainly doesn’t have that youthful charm it once had, but there are still bits of your childhood scattering the room. There’s ticket stubs and photobooth strips tacked to a corkboard near your desk. Books that you would reread cover to cover are organized proudly on your shelf, worn for wear. 

Jungkook groans in relief, plopping his body down on your freshly made bed. “Your family’s really clingy.” he sighs, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

You turn to give him a snappy answer, but it dies in your throat when you see what he’s laying on. The familiar family quilt sinks under Jungkook’s weight, mocking you. You shriek, throwing your arms over to lug his body to the other side of the bed. Bundling up the quilt in your arms, you glare at a very appalled Jungkook. 

“The hell is wrong with you, woman!” he cries, not loud enough to escape the room, but enough to have your body vibrate in annoyance. 

“Jeon, they put the fucking baby blanket in my room,” you mutter more to yourself than him, folding it under your arms. 

The blanket is comfy in your grasp and you’re sure it’s clean, but the fact that you weren’t actually married and in love made its appearance a whole lot worse. 

“So?” his eyes are wide in confusion, “my mom still has my baby blanket too, I’m not gonna shoot anyone because of it.” 

“It’s not my baby blanket,” you admonish, “it’s the baby maker blanket. A weird family tradition when someone gets engaged.”

“Which means?” 

“They’re expecting us to fuck and have children.” 

The thought of procreating and starting a family with you must’ve caused all the champagne to return to his throat, and he looks a little pale. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” he lies back down on your mattress, and you leave him be so you can chuck the blanket back in your parents’ room. 

You’re barely out the door when a young man is waiting out in the hallway for you, poised to knock. “Hey, baby girl.” they throw you an easy lopsided grin, opening their arms to you. 

In your haste, you slam your bedroom door a little too loudly. “Yoongi!” You let yourself sink into his waiting arms, reveling in the familiar embrace you missed so much. Yoongi is Namjoon’s best friend and work buddy, not to mention the man you’ve had a crush on since you were able to walk. While you can safely say at this moment there is nothing serious going on, a small part of you always wishes there could be. 

His voice husks in your ear, “Why are we hugging in between the baby blanket?” 

“Oh!” you brush past him, opening the door to your parents’ room and flinging the offending item as far into their room as possible. “Sorry, Jungkook and I were a little freaked out when we saw it. We’re definitely not thinking about children right now.” 

“Jungkook,” he hums, and your smile falters just a tad when you see the way Yoongi tips his head down in thought, “It was quite the news. Congrats though.” 

You want to say what you’re supposed to say, that yes, you should be happy. But the selfish part of you does not want this exchange between you and Yoongi to be happening. When you get your quickie divorce in a year, the small, hopeful part of you hopes you and Yoongi could be something. 

Before you have a chance to fabricate a response, strong hands encircle your waist, and you feel Jungkook’s chin digging into your shoulder. 

“Thanks, man,” Jungkook’s voice rumbles, “we really appreciate it.” 

Yoongi gives a nod, muttering something about catching up later before he walks back to the party. 

It’s then that Jungkook’s weight feels impossibly heavy on your shoulders. “You know, you’ve been doing a really shitty job of being my wife-to-be ever since we landed,” Jungkook whispers, feather soft lips dusting across the shell of your ear. It’s an act so intimate you can imagine your family passing down the hallway could be mistaking you two for speaking unthinkable acts. A toddler cousin spots you two and giggles, babbling something to your uncle about how you’re hugging. “You did so well when we were with Taeyeon and Big Hit.” 

“It’s not the same when I’m lying to my family,” you turn to face him, equally simmering. “These are people that actually love and care for me, unlike you.” 

“At least I care about what’s most important,” he grits back, “our jobs, our futures. Is that not enough for you to keep it in your pants?” 

“Excuse me? You don’t even know him!” 

“I don’t have to know him because I’m holding you right now and you’re practically sweating through your cardigan.” he grimaces, digging his chin further into your collarbone, literally trying to get under your skin. “Your face looks like a cherry tomato.” 

You turn your head to bite back, your noses touching. The staring contest seems to last for days. Unlike Jungkook who doesn't know how to register basic human emotion, you still have hopes for a life after this. Before you have a chance to answer, your favorite cousin enters the hallway, oblivious to your concerns. Jimin’s red all over, passing you two flutes of blush champagne. “Hurry up, we’re making speeches!” 

Champagne is overflowing like Niagara, and you and Jungkook are the reason for it as you’re thrusted into the living room. Your weird uncle is in the middle of a long-winded speech about his fishing business and how dreams are made from ‘bait and a dream’. You make eye contact with him, and he gestures wildly to you and Jungkook. 

The crowd proceeds to go wild, echoes of speech! Speech! Reverberating throughout your living room. You and Jungkook share uneasy smiles, unsure of where to go with this show. 

Deciding it’s your family by blood, you start first. “Honestly, when I moved to New York I wasn’t expecting to feel so lonely,” you clutch your flute with both hands, swirling your drink absentmindedly. You then turn to Jungkook, giving him a tender smile which he returns back just as fondly. “Until I met Jungkook. I’m really happy that I get to share this week with the people I love the most, so let's drink to family!” 

Jungkook lifts his glass, “Thank you for the warm welcome, I can’t wait to spend time with all of you. This is my first Christmas with a large, loving family. Cheers to that!” 

The room erupts in cheers, allowing themselves to clink glasses and chase down their respective drinks. Even the little ones crowding the kiddie table in the back are enjoying their apple juice while making silly faces at the new couple. 

Jungkook weaves his arm between yours, and you get the signal to do a couples’ drink. He eyes you with mischief, as if to say we did it. After you two take your drink, Jimin’s the first to drunkenly yell, “Ohmygod just kiss already!” 

“Kiss kiss kiss!” 

“This is going on my story so make it good!” 

“Kiss him before I do!” 

“Oh my god,” you groan, throwing your forehead on Jungkook’s chest. Your family really is something else. 

As if the chants can’t get any louder, it’s hard to focus on anything but Jungkook’s presence. Jungkook lifts your chin up, murmuring, “Let’s give the people what they want.” and he presses his lips to yours. 

It’s awkward at first. Why wouldn’t it be, you’re making out with your boss, in front of your family, pretending to be engaged. But Jungkook doesn’t let up, parting your lips slightly to deepen the kiss. As much as you want to make up how terrible and disgusting kissing Jungkook is, it really isn’t. His lips are soft and he tastes like the peach champagne, and his grip on your waist is strong and warm. 

He leaves you breathless when you pull away, a smirk on his lips for a brief moment before he turns shyly to your family who are probably foaming at the mouth now. 

Maybe it’s the champagne coursing through your veins, but why does it suddenly feel so hot in the middle of winter? 

The first day back starts off wholly uneventful, with Jungkook working on some manuscripts and you preparing dinner with Jimin. Most of your family is on the resort hitting the slopes, so you’re quite thankful for the reprieve since the party was so overwhelming. The blonde is all smiles as he bumps the oven closed with his leg, letting your lasagna bake to perfection. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Jimin rests his head on your shoulder, “it’s definitely not the same when we’re adults. Frankly, it sucks balls.” 

“Big balls,” you agree, gnawing on a leftover baguette from last night. 

“Speaking of big balls,” Jimin wiggles his brows as you attempt to move farther from him.

“Please don’t say it.” 

“C’mon! Just tell me if the sex is good!” 

“No!” you cry, flicking your crumbs at him. 

“I will open this oven,” his hands are already on the handle, “and your dish will undercook.” 

“Don’t you dare!” he opens the oven a tad, and you slam your hand down. “Fine! The sex is fantastic, happy?” 

“Ewh, no!” The storm door swings open, revealing Namjoon, Yoongi, and Lisa, Namjoon’s lady friend. “I didn’t need to hear that, thanks.” 

Your face looks absolutely pained as you watch the two older men walk in. They were the last people you’d ever want to share about your sex life too, even if it is fake. You can only bear to look properly at Lisa as they kick off their boots and shake the snow off their heads. Lisa pokes her tongue in her cheek, looking at you with a wild look in her eyes. “I’ve heard so much about your current drama. Can’t wait to hear the 411 from you, though.” 

Yoongi looks unfazed, then again you never really know what’s going on in his head. “You guys wanna go to a movie tonight?” Yoongi asks, grabbing a slice of the baguette and dipping it in a dish of olive oil. “I think the one that’s showing is based on a book your company published.”

“Is it ‘Rotten Love’?” 

“That’s the one.” 

Pushing yourself off the counter, you nod eagerly. “I’ll go tell Jungkook to get ready. We can eat dinner real quick and then go right after,” you grab a bottle of water from the fridge, “Joonie, set up the table please.” 

Jungkook doesn’t notice you walk in, and you can hear the faint sound of Muse blasting from his Airpods. He’s on your floor, doing pushups while reading a transcript under him. This time he’s using your iPad, every few seconds taking a thumb to scroll down. Sweating through his shirt, you can see the beads running along his silver reading glasses. It’s completely contradictory, your muscle bunny of a boss getting in his reps while psychoanalyzing a potential novel, but somehow it works with him. 

“Maniac,” you mutter, bending down to place the cool water bottle on his cheek. He stops abruptly, like you’ve pressed the pause button on his seemingly robotic arms. Seriously, you can’t fathom how he manages to do both. You swipe the iPad under his body in place of a white towel, which he accepts gratefully. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to snap him out of it, sometimes you’d catch him at the company gym nearing 10PM, reading on the treadmill. 

“What time is it?” he asks, fluting the water bottle down his throat. 

Ignoring the way his neck glistens in sweat, you say, “It’s almost seven. C’mon, we’re gonna eat dinner and watch a movie. You’ve cooped yourself up in this room all day, time to interact with the world.” 

“What movie?” 

“The book we published in 2018, ‘Rotten Love’? They made it into a movie,” and you can’t help the wry grin that takes over your face when you say your next words, “guess who directed it.” 

He sighs, rubbing the towel over his damp hair. The normally styled strands fall limply at his forehead. “I don’t remember, I shifted over that project to PR. Any director’s fine, but please please please don’t let it be—”

“Jung Hoseok!”

“Son of a bitch, we gotta go.” And it’s the first time in a while you see a genuine smile graze his features, one not laced with you and your marriage. It’s an old pastime for you both to get picky over Jung’s work. “I swear, he better not put his scenes all over the place like last time, I got whiplash.” 

After a quick dinner you all pile into Namjoon’s minivan, making your way to the theatre. The drive is fast, and before you know it you’re waiting in line to get inside. It seems that the PR between the film studio and Big Hit did a good job assisting, because there’s a sizable line despite being half an hour early. 

“So honey,” Lisa leans into you, squishing you further into Jungkook’s shoulder. “Did you like, help out with the publishing of this novel? To be honest I don’t even know what your job is,” Lisa admits with a shrug, “you’re not a glorified coffee girl, are you?” 

“No,” her mixed enthusiasm never fails to stump you, “Ah, but I really didn’t do much in the production of ‘Rotten Love’,” you reply easily, relaxing into Jungkook as he moves to drape an arm around your shoulder. “I just told my boss to sign some documents n’stuff. It’s really nothing—”

“Babe, are you kidding? You ran the whole freakin’ project!” and you’re in shock, because for the first time in the history of ever, Jeon Jungkook is paying you a real compliment. “It was her first assignment when she got hired as the big boss’ assistant. A lot of people in the office doubted her,” he squeezes your shoulder, “but not for one second did I doubt her, you could see how hard she worked to make it perfect. I heard the boss was really impressed, too.” 

You remember that period of time. Jungkook made you dive headfirst into the publishing for ‘Rotten Love’, letting you sink or swim in his decision for keeping you employed. After a full month of meetings, negotiations, and debating whether you should have caffeine IV’ed in your body to save time on eating, you got Jungkook’s evaluation. You remember the stoicism in Jungkook’s frame as he surmised your work, throwing you a flippant “it’s decent” before sending you off to do more work. 

Relief flooded your system after those two simple words, because that meant you had a chance and you could keep your job. But this? If what he’s saying is true, you’re on Cloud 9. 

“Awh, thanks Kook.” you squeeze his arm, letting your fingers trail down to lace your fingers with his. 

Lisa’s face is all scrunched, and she doesn’t hesitate to stretch over you to smush Jungkook’s cheek between her two fingers. Her blue nails dig into his soft skin. “I like him, honey. Keep him, he’s so cute.” 

She leaves you alone after that, skipping over to bother Namjoon about buying an extra bucket of popcorn. 

“At first I was nervous having you near my family for a week,” you say brightly, rubbing a thumb over his hand, “but I kinda like seeing you try so hard to not rip other people’s heads off.” 

He puffs out his cheeks in an attempt to soothe the stinging. “Could be worse, I could be engaged to Karen.” 

With that you laugh, loud enough to turn heads and have Jimin and Lisa send you adoring looks. Jungkook sends you a nervous smile, the one that he’d always send you during team meetings when he was unsure of how to respond to something. Instead of giving him a smart answer, you get on your tiptoes to pat his reddened cheek. “But she’s right, you are kinda cute when you wanna be.” 

Instead of replying, he squeezes your hand tighter to lead you inside. 

Everything is smooth sailing after that. You, Jimin and Yoongi are saving the seats while Jungkook, Lisa and Namjoon are getting the refreshments. Jimin is prattling on about a new job interview and you’re listening attentively, while Yoongi shoots off advice every time Jimin says he’s nervous. 

Yoongi looks past Jimin to give you that gummy smile that always made your chest ache. “Chim, remember when she applied to work at Jamba Juice?” 

“Oh my god,” Jimin giggles, clutching your arm. “When you had to do a trial run in front of the manager? You forgot to put the lid on the blender and you sprayed the staff with green juice?” 

“The stains took forever to get out,” you pouted. “And I didn’t appreciate the snaps you saved of me. I got nervous because you were recording me!” 

“Am I hearing some juicy details about your childhood?” Jungkook appears, passing a huge tub of buttery popcorn to Yoongi. 

“Emphasis on juice,” Yoongi says tartly, popping a handful of kernels in his mouth. 

“Yes, do you wanna see a picture of your fiancé covered in green juice? She wore a low-cut shirt that day so it got deep, man.” Jimin says, using his hands to gesture obscenely to his own chest. 

You’re mortified, and you push down Jimin’s phone and cover whatever receipts he has on you. “Jimin, I’d like to stay engaged, if you don’t mind?” 

Your not-so-favorite cousin cackles in response, telling Jungkook that they’ll talk later. 

“Here,” Jungkook cooly hands you a King-Sized KitKat. 

“Awh,” you marvel, immediately opening the wrapper, “you actually read my notes and found out what my favorite candy was?” 

He scoffs, dark bangs blowing up. “Who doesn’t like KitKats?” but you’re giving him the look, and he sighs, “C’mon babe, just gimmie a break.” 

“Ha-ha,” but you break off a piece anyway, lifting it to Jungkook’s lips. It’s then that the theatre starts to dim, and the telltale signs of the movie begin. “Ready to rip Jung Hoseok to shreds?” 

“Always.” 

Barely fifteen minutes pass and Jungkook is spreading his legs. You’re about to kick him before he leans in to whisper, “They made Renee too dull,” he sighs in disappointment, as if he sincerely had high hopes they’d bring the novel to justice. “I mean, I get it, in the novel she’s supposed to be a plain Jane. But she isn’t grey.” 

“Right?” you lean into Jungkook, throwing your legs over his thighs like you’re back at the airport. This isn’t out of intimacy, you think to yourself, you just need to be close enough to Jungkook so you don’t disturb the other patrons with your talking. “She’s either a bad actress or they messed up her character. I really got upset when I read this part, but it’s kinda bland on the screen.” 

As much as you love Jimin, you know he’s not going to get your over-criticality over the media. Yoongi and Namjoon are on the other end of the row, but they wouldn’t be too pleased having you gab over the movie because you’re too much of an aficionado. Jungkook is the only one who can tête-à-tête, or in this case, Kit-a-Kat with you. 

You sigh into his shoulder, inhaling his clean scent. “Let’s pray Jung didn’t completely butcher the chapter where Kenzo reflects on his penniless journey.” 

“I’ll leave the theatre right then and there if that happens, care to join me?” 

“Already out the door, bossman.” 

Jungkook looks away from the screen briefly, reaching forward to take an obnoxiously big bite of the KitKat in your hand. You stifle a giggle, and before you can soak up his cheeky grin he’s already looking back at the movie. 

You wonder what Jungkook is like outside of work, if he has that side to him. A little part of you wishes that this playfulness he’s exuding is real. Not to your fake marriage, but a playfulness he can execute to a person that he really likes. Two days out of the office and you’re starting to see that Jungkook has the capabilities to enjoy life, however simple it may be. 

The movie is finished in a blur, and you and Jungkook are still bickering over the intricacies of the film compared to the novel. The night air is cold and burns your cheeks, reminding you exactly how late you’ve been out.

“Well, I thought the romance was so boring!” Lisa blurted, wanting an in. Her lime green ski jacket glares in your vision, and you move away from her immediately. “No one cheated on each other, there was no drama, or evil best friend!” 

“Whoa there,” and you see the little fire in Jungkook’s eyes, one you’ve learned early on to stay away from when you spent hours in his office debating over manuscripts and plotlines. He stares down at Lisa, really stares down. “You think every romance needs some sort of internalized conflict for it to be good? Why can’t they just grow and learn from the external conflict together? It’s literally useless for them to break up over and over just—”

And that’s your cue to walk ahead of them, because while you did agree with Jungkook, you’ve heard this debate one too many times. Ever the closet-romantic at heart. You hope Lisa doesn’t lose her patience and punch him out. 

“Hey,” you feel a hand pat your hair, and you look up at Yoongi. He looks absolutely fluffy in his long puffy jacket, and he matches your steps with his. “Do I look ugly tonight, or something? I feel like we barely exchanged two sentences with each other.” 

“What, never!” you chastise, “you always look good, Yoongi. And we have the whole week to catch up, remember?”

“Really, then why don’t we go out in two days to pick out a tree for your house? Joon and I are planning on going.” 

“I would love to go pick a tree!” you exclaim, “the last time we got a tree together was when your brother had to lift.” 

“Great,” and he pats your head again, but this time his hand lingers to finger the ringlets of your hair. “It’ll be just like old times, baby girl. I’ll pick you up at 9.” 

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Jungkook’s argument ended minutes ago and he’s mulling over a new type of internal conflict. 

“Owie, ow, ow—fuck you! Ow!” 

“Well if you just hold still,” Jungkook grimaces, taking his turns with both hands to simultaneously wipe the injury with a cloth and then pressing the affected area with an ice bag. 

“Buh ih hurths!” your voice is muffled by the cloth, stained red with freshly bloomed blood. 

The ski lodge started off great. You enjoyed a fabulous beligan waffle breakfast courtesy of Jimin’s parents, and then made the trek to the slopes. You’ve been here dozens of times, so you didn’t feel an inclination to gravitate to any of the fancy schmancy sports. You were fine playing shuffleboard inside, but your inner youth complained that it’s the holidays and you should be getting out more.

Jimin and Jungkook (who claimed he hasn't snowboarded since he was 16 yet he’s doing tricks like a goddamn Olympian) were shredding on the slopes while Namjoon and Lisa were skiing on a smaller hill. You and Yoongi watched safely from the lift, riding it like a kiddie attraction. You must’ve taken the lift at least ten times, complaining about how you’re both too lazy to function and you could really use a hot chocolate and a fireplace. 

After the fifteenth time on the lift, legs numb, you stumble over with heavy boots to where Lisa and Namjoon were waiting for Jimin and Jungkook. They wanted to walk around more and see if they could try a more difficult slope. 

While you were waiting, you had to admit that Jungkook did kind of cool all decked out in his gear. A competitive, playful smile was easily reflected in his gaze despite his helmet and goggles. 

That slight admiration is knocked right off your feet when Jungkook speeds by way too close for comfort and you’re in his path. Jimin had already slowed next to your friends and family, looking at you in anticipated horror.

It’s far too late, and despite the fact that Jungkook manages to pull your body to his while you wipe out, your face crashes into his helmet and you taste metal. 

Mildly disoriented from the impact, Jungkook’s muffled string of curses nurse you back to a decent consciousness as he tries to carry you to the lodge.

“Holy shit, I got that on camera!” Jimin cries, gesturing to the Go-Pro nestled in his helmet. 

So now you’re in pain and it’s all Jungkook’s fault. Your bottom lip is split, and the burn on your face won’t go away. 

You watch as Jungkook dotes on you, his bangs pushed up everywhere due to his grey goggles haphazardly being propped upon his forehead. His pink tongue sticks out as he concentrates on not getting blood on your sweater. It’s just you and him that are stuck around in the lodge after you got pummeled, standing by the fire while everyone else continues on with the fun. 

“Why were you over there anyway, in the middle of the slope?” he scolds. 

“It was the slow down zone, Jeon. You were the only one not slowing down, you speed demon.” 

“Sorry,” he says gruffly, pressing a little too hard with the ice and you wince. He lets up and presses the cloth to your lips to soak up the moisture.

“Did you say something?” 

“I said, I’m sorry.” 

You sigh dramatically, “I wish I had a camera to save that shitty excuse of an apology.” 

“Speaking of cameras,” he shucks his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Jimin uploaded the video.” 

That man, you don’t know where he has the means to quickly upload and edit things, but if it’s for the ‘Gram, it’s worth it to Jimin. You open Instagram and immediately click on @chimmyboi’s story, immediately wincing as the first few seconds reveal the brunt of the impact. He should really put a disclaimer before uploading content. 

The tumble between you and Jungkook doesn’t look so bad, but it’s when you get up does it look gnarly. Your chin is dribbling in red liquid, and Jungkook’s throwing off his helmet and goggles in a panic. 

He makes a half-assed snowball where you’re lying on the ground, pressing it against your mouth. With his other hand he pulls you into a sitting position, not caring that you’re staining his clothes as he hauls you on his body. 

“Ohmygod,” you splutter, trying not to move your lips, “I look like I got decked with a hockey puck.” 

“It wasn’t that bad, don’t be a baby.” Jungkook sees the piecing glare you give him, and he sighs. “Okay, it looked pretty bad. I was a little worried back there, but now the bleeding pretty much stopped and holy shit—stop smiling! You’re making it open up further!” 

“You were worried?” 

“Shut up.” 

The ice bag is watery and not doing much anymore, but Jungkook still insists to cool your face down. You lift a hand to his cold ones, attempting to take the bag and cloth from his grasp. 

“You should go board with Jimin and the rest of them. I can take care of this.” 

“It’s fine,” he reasons, reaching for the ice bag but you hold on tighter. 

“C’mon, I know the only thing you were looking forward to this entire trip was going snowboarding. I’m a big girl, I can be alone for an hour or two.” 

Jungkook locks his jaw, gnawing at his cheek as he mulls on his decision. “Wouldn’t I look like a bad partner if I leave you?”

“Nah, this has happened before. Almost always someone gets injured on the trip. Last time something like this happened I was eight and I got five stitches on my leg. This is nothing. You’re fine.” 

“But still.” 

“Fine, you wanna make it up to me?” 

You scan the room for any ideas, and it settles on a trio of girls huddled by the register of the built-in café. They’re pretty snow bunnies, decked out in sweater dresses and fur lined boots. They remind you a little of The Powerpuff Girls, all in pastels and attached to the hip. Their gaze has taken hostage in Jungkook’s frame, blatantly ignoring the fact that majority of his attention is directed towards you. You wonder why you haven’t noticed them sooner, because now the staring is getting borderline discomforting. 

Slipping off his goggles with your free hand, you gesture subtly to the girls. “They think you’re hot. Go flirt with them a little and get me a free drink, I’m sure they’ll pay for you.” 

He doesn’t understand the correlation, “Why would I do that?” 

You shrug, separating the strands of hair that stick to his forehead. “Lisa and Namjoon do it all the time when they go clubbing. They compete and pretend they’re single for like two hours, and then they keep a tally of how many people offer to buy them a drink.” 

“That is completely different, but I’m open to trying it when we get back to the city.” he acknowledged briefly, getting up from his crouching position. “I got a better idea.” 

Puzzled, you watch him saunter over to the register. Like bees to the honey, the girls follow Jungkook with their eyes, watching him exaggeratedly mull over the menu. 

He spares the slightest of head inclinations to the drooling trio, “Hello ladies.” The smile is not flirtatious, but kind. 

You suppress a giggle, burying your chin in your scarf as you watch the whole interaction. You don’t even know why you asked Jungkook if he would flirt with those girls, as he kept most of his dates private over the years. You picture a college-aged Jungkook getting his daily breakfast on his way to class, ignoring the way his presence attracts heads. 

The barista hands Jungkook a tray filled with a plastic cup of ice, and a cup filled with something hot, and a chocolate croissant. He grabs a straw from a tray, stabbing it in the hot drink’s lid. 

“Excuse me,” one of the girls coquettishly puts her hands behind her back, puffing her chest out as she leans over Jungkook’s order. “The regular croissants actually taste better in my opinion.” 

“Well my wife’s had a hard day, so I think she deserves something sweet.” 

He doesn’t even turn around as he makes a beeline to where you’re seated on a loveseat, carefully placing the tray on the coffee table. 

“Your better idea was making them jealous?” you ask, unsure of his intentions. 

He shrugs, “College-Jungkook always wanted to show off his girlfriend like that, so indulge me for a second, alright?”

Rolling your eyes you reply, “My life is about indulging you. Don’t forget the trips I’ve made to the grocery store when your personal fridge was out of banana—”

“I thought I said we don’t speak of those hard times,” he cuts you off, “ever.”  

You stop him from filling up your ice bag with the ice he brought. “C’mon Jeon, you’re burning daylight out there. I got this. You’ve stalled enough, go have fun in the snow with Jimin, you adrenaline junkie.” 

He scrunches his nose, but relents when you throw him his jacket and goggles. Before he pulls on his gloves, he cups your face with both hands to pull you in a kiss. His hands are cold from the ice, gluing you in place in fear of him kissing you too hard. But it’s barely that, a brushing of lips so tender as he takes extra care with your open lip. 

“Is this also a self-indulgent request?” you pucker, “who knew there was a hormonal teenager under that editor-in-chief’s body.” 

His eyes flicker to the audience in the back, and you don’t need to look behind you to note that they’re glaring daggers in your head. It’s like you’re straight out of a rom-com. 

“You’re leaving me to the bunnies,” you say teasingly. 

“Then hurry up and get better so you can join us,” he taunts, “or else you can’t help me bury Jimin in the snow.” 

It’s a tempting offer that makes you down your drink so you can enjoy the rest of your day. 

Light seeps through your windows, rays kissing your eyelashes and willing them to open. You groan, hand splaying out to wake up Jungkook. When you find his space empty and cool, you sit up and search for your fake-fiancé. 

He’s on the floor, smack in the middle of his morning workout. Your iPad is under his body, and somehow he’s managed to find a setting where the document scrolls for him automatically. He’s not wearing his Airpods, so you rasp, “Jeon, you’re crazy. I get the morning workout, but you don’t have to look over any more transcripts. I think you’ve read enough for this week.” 

“It helps me ignore the burn,” he says shortly, and you see the ripples of his back flex with every push-up. “And I wouldn’t have to do so much reading if my assistant would just do her job.” 

“I already told you, I’m not working during my vacation.” you throw off the sheets, padding to your closet. “I’m going to pick the tree today. You should go to the mall with my mom and Jimin to pick out some new ornaments.” 

“What?” he gets up, and you ignore the perfect view of tight muscles decorating his abs. Exactly how long was he awake for to have sweat clinging to his shirt? You’re going to short-circuit and it’s barely 8:30. “But I wanna go help pick out the tree.” 

“You don’t have to do that, Joon and Yoongi got it.” 

“Yoongi, really? You think he can carry a tree?” 

“This isn’t a pissing contest, Jeon.” you settle on a burgundy Patagonia jacket and grey leggings. “Besides, Yoongi and I are just friends.”

“You sure about that, baby girl?” 

You whip around to poke at his chest, and you ignore how smug he looks. “Do not test me, Jeon. Like you said, I’m with you every step of the way in this marriage. I’m not going to jeopardize that over some childhood crush.” 

“Wow, your life is really turning into a Wattpad entry,” he admonishes, “fake-fiancé still pining over his older brother’s best friend, really high-qual stuff.” 

“I’m serious.” you grit, “I took a week off so I can get away from you and that was ruined, so I would like a little bit of space today.” 

And that gets Jungkook to back away. His face deflates a little, and you feel a little guilty for making him upset, but you stab that thought down and convince yourself that he deserves it. It’s not like he cares about you, he just wants to show off to the boys.

“Fine,” he turns around to put on a fresh shirt, and you almost notice the pout marrying his face. “You could’ve just told me you wanted space. I’m getting kind of tired of you too, you know.” 

He flops on the bed and you huff in reply, quickly throwing on your attire inside your closet while he watches a YouTube video. You check your phone, and at 8:59 a knock is at your door. Jungkook doesn’t bother to get up to answer, and you open the door to see a sleepy Yoongi with a paper cup in his hand. 

“An English breakfast with two sugars and a dash of milk, baby girl.” 

You mask your wince at the pet name. It hadn’t bothered you when you were young, but its starting to feel coddling now that Jungkook is making you hyper-aware of the attention. “Perfect,” you faux-beam, the hot beverage warm your fingers. 

“I’ll just warm up the car and—”

“Babeeeeee,”  the deepest, sexiest voice echoes from your bed and out in the hallway. He sounds absolutely tempting, and needy. You freeze at the way your boss can so easily pretend he’s exhausted and wanting you, “come back to bedddddd. I’m not done with you yet.” 

Yoongi’s ears are red, “Aaand, I’ll let you finish whatever business you have.” 

The older man bolts out of there, and you snap your head back to look at an innocent Jungkook. He tilts his head at your bout of anger. 

“You know, I have half a mind to fling this tea down your shirt.” 

“What?” he looks at you like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “He can’t be the only one who can call you baby.” 

Honestly, you didn’t mean to lash out on Jungkook like that. You did need to put up a face as you were each other's significant others, but it doesn’t mean you have to be together all the time. To top it all off you’ve been feeling weird as of late, and you can only attribute these terrible feelings to a certain brunet who’s been sleeping in your bed. 

But you pin these feelings for another time, because you need to enjoy what little quality time you have with your brother. 

“Hey, whaddya think of this one?” It's just you and Namjoon picking the tree, and Yoongi’s sitting in the cabin keeping warm. He said to call him once you’ve decided, since it is your house. 

“Hm, it’s fine.” you shrug, inhaling the pine. “Maybe a little too tall.” 

Namjoon nods, and you follow him to the next row of greenery. He’s been pensive this whole time, and you have a feeling he’s hiding something. Surrounded by pine and the fresh winter air he says, “Hey, I just wanna say sorry.” 

“Why, did you like that tree over there? I don’t mind it, we can go back!” 

“What, no? I’m sorry for being weird around Jungkook.” 

“Huh?” sure, you noticed the weird language and terseness he gave Jungkook initially, but you chalked it out as big brother issues. 

You two continue to walk around the forest aimlessly, not really tree hunting. 

“I was just upset that the engagement was so sudden,” Namjoon starts, and you feel the guilt start to set camp in your stomach. “And I don’t know, at first he just didn’t seem like your type? I always thought you wanted to date someone gentle, someone you could hold and depend on. He looked so serious, and maybe a little immature.”

“He is a little immature,” you agree softly, digging your boots in the snow, “but I don’t love him any less because of it. We’re growing together.” Shit, why was that so easy for you to say? 

“Figured,” and Namjoon stops to place a hand on your shoulder, “I see the way he looks at you, and you can’t fake love like that.” 

Namjoon’s admonition is so convincing that you almost convince yourself that it is something. 

Something is bothering Jungkook, and he doesn’t know why. 

It’s not the billions of charges he made on his credit card for new ornaments, because it simultaneously inflated his ego and impressed your mom. 

It’s not the way Jimin hangs onto his every word and doesn’t let up, because it is refreshing to have your cousin find a genuine interest in him. 

Jungkook, Jimin and your mom have been taking laps around the mall for the past hour. They’ve floated around here and there, picking out whatever catches their eye for the tree. 

Jimin’s in the middle of explaining the Jamba Juice story when a glimmering window display catches his eye. 

“Hun, have you not bought her a present yet?” your mom says over his shoulder. 

“No,” he exhales, embarrassed that he just admitted he didn’t think of getting you anything in front of your mom. “She doesn’t ask for anything, really.” Besides her book published, a raise, and a potential promotion as editor, but they didn’t need to know that much. 

“Good thing you’re with the right people!” Jimin cheers, ushering him into the jewelry store. 

Funny enough, he knows exactly what to get you. Once he points it out, Jimin and your mom “ooh” and “aah” respectively, agreeing that what he chose was perfect. If you had asked Jungkook a week ago what kind of jewlery you like, he’d give you a dumb look and say “something shiny.” But that’s what’s bothering him. He just walked right into the store, saw what was right, and everything just clicked. 

Jungkook pins that thought for later, because once their shopping is done they’re back at your villa, arranging the ornaments and detangling the lights that have been holed up in the closet for eleven months. 

Jimin and he are sitting on the living room floor, stabbing thread through popcorn. He really only saw this craft in the movies, and the small part of him is amazed that you and your family go through the hard work to make your holidays so warm. 

Your mom appears from her bedroom, clutching something in her hand. She sits in front of Jungkook, a huge smile on her face. 

“Before you say anything,” and it strikes him how similar you are to your mother. There’s that tone he always receives before he gets new news, or the way you’re eager to share something that will make him happy. “I don’t want you to think this is a luxurious gift or anything. But I realized that you don’t have a wedding band so I went through my old cases and found this.” 

She opens her palm slowly, revealing a simple black band. 

Jungkook’s lips part to form words, but his vocal cords betray him. At first glance, this ring could’ve been mistaken for one of Jimin’s plentiful rings adorning his fingers. Upon closer inspection however, Jungkook notes that this band is thinner and more worn. The metal looks strong and old, the slight scratches and faded color revealing that it was a well-loved piece of jewelry. 

Your mom is offering Jungkook a wedding band. 

“If you don’t like it, that’s okay!” your mom says quickly, nerves radiating because of Jungkook’s silence. “It was my grandfather’s. Don’t feel as if you have to accept it. It’s not a wedding band persay, but I think it matches and it looks about your size and we didn’t get you a Christmas gift so—”

“It’s perfect.” Jungkook tells her firmly, sending him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, I guess we kind of rushed the engagement so I didn’t think of getting a band of my own.” 

Your mother is grateful, dropping the ring in Jungkook’s awaiting palm. “I think my daughter should be the one who puts it on you, don’t you think?” 

“Right,” he echoes, and he just stares at the ring in his hand, feeling weird in his chest. He can’t remember the last time someone put this much thought in getting him something this significant. He can’t accept this ring, but he can’t refuse it either. “I could never find something with this much value from a little shop in New York, so thank you.” 

“Oh, and while we’re on the topic of New York,” Jimin puts down his completed popcorn wreath, “y/n said she already put in her off days for Easter, so you should too. It’ll be at my place this year, and I live by an indoor skydiving zone. She mentioned you’re an adrenaline junkie.” 

“She also mentioned that your birthday’s in September.” your mom pops in, “We were thinking we could take Friday off and stop by for the weekend. I’ve always wanted to see Hamilton!” 

Jungkook knows they’re trying to cheer him up. They’re trying to make him feel part of the family, feel wanted. But he can’t remember the last time he’s felt wanted unless it’s for a book deal or a business exchange. It’s been so long since he’s felt this warm, and he didn’t realize how much he yearned for it until he proposed to you.

“Hey man,” Jimin puts an arm around his trembling shoulders, “are you alright?” 

“Fine,” he’s crying, and doing a shit job at hiding the tears. “It’s alright, I just,” he can’t even find the strength to get up and walk away from this. Is it pathetic that he’s breaking down in the comfort of your cousin and mom, starved for affection? “I just, I miss my family. It’s just the four of us, but they’re all the way in Korea and it’s been awhile since I’ve really celebrated anything with them. They visit sometimes but it’s not the same, y’know? And work is so stressful but I’m not in a position to say that. And your family is just so, so nice and it makes me miss them even more. You’re all so lucky to support each other like this.” 

Jimin and your mom sandwich him like an Oreo. It’s almost funny, how two smaller humans are comforting this big human and not the other way around. “Poor baby, it’s your family too.” 

Pathetic. It’s pathetic how much he wishes to have a family like yours, but he can’t have that. 

“Can we please not tell y/n about this?” Jungkook wishes, leaning his head on your mom’s. “She’s going through a lot right now with work and stuff, I’d rather just talk to her about this after the holidays, if that’s okay.” 

“It’s quite alright, sweetheart,” your mom runs a hand through his hair, and his eyes automatically flutter closed, “just remember, your feelings matter too, okay?” 

You and Jungkook slip into bed at the same time, murmuring half-hearted “how was your days” and brief descriptions of your outings. It’s a little awkward considering the morning’s events, but not unbearable. 

“The tree smells really nice,” Jungkook tries, looking up from his phone. 

“Yeah, makes the whole room smell like Christmas.” 

“Yeah.”

“Did you have a good time shopping, find anything good?” 

“Yeah.”

“That’s nice.” 

[11:29] Jimin: hey, you know my room’s right next to yours right? 

[11:29] Jimin: we share a goddamn wall and im NOT hearing shit

[11:29] Jimin: are you putting that baby blanket to good use ;)

[11:30] You: YOU”REE DISGUSTING are we even family!!!!  Can i disown a first cousin?? 

[11:30] Jimin: i’m just sayin.. U said it was fantastic

You throw your phone away, letting it slide off to the mattress and onto the baby blanket. Yes, the baby blanket is unfortunately here to stay. Over the course of three days, the quilt is like a ball in a tennis match between you and your mother. You’ve given up and just kept it on the floor. 

“I have a question,” you say aloud, motioning to your bed partner. 

“Shoot.” 

“Was it true when you said I was the only girl you knew well enough to be your wife?”

“Of course, that’s why we’re here.” 

“I’m just wondering, because I really thought you could pick any girl in the office to be yours.” you stuff your hands under the covers, playing with your ring. “I mean, you’re kinda-sorta handsome. You could’ve picked someone just as pretty and they would have studied your whole life story for you.” 

Jungkook's phone falls in his lap, and he looks at you like you’ve lost a couple brain cells. “Normally, I would eat up the fact that you admitted I was attractive. But do you realize you’re just as beautiful, if not more?” 

What? 

“I know it’s unprofessional, but how professional can we get when we’re married, but you’re the whole package, y/n.” and he says it with such fervor, you can’t formulate a response. “I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else. No one else can take my shit and throw it right back in my face, or debate with me for hours on end about a novel’s direction. Only you can do that.” 

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, “thanks, you’re right. I’m just clouded, and stressed. And Jimin’s being an ass and it’s really bothering me.” 

His chocolate eyes flicker in the darkness of your bedroom, making note of your phone on the floor. “What’d he say?” 

“It’s stupid, he said that he thinks it’s weird he hasn’t heard us bang all week,” you force a laugh, “it’s my fault though, he wouldn’t get off my back so I gave up and told him the sex was fantastic.” 

“Are you worried he’s unconvinced?” 

“A little, maybe? I don’t know.” you’re wrinkling your bedsheets now, turning the cotton into putty as your sweaty palms wring at the edge. 

“I don’t mind giving him a show.” Jungkook blurts, and you instinctively pull the covers closer to your chest, even though you’re fully clothed. 

“What, like fake moan into the wall?” 

“There are things you can do over the clothes,” he says matter-of-factly, pulling the sheet of his bedside down slightly. “And you just said you’re stressed. I’d be a bad fiancé to not let you relieve some of that tension.” 

Jungkook opens his arms and gestures for you to get on his lap. Your body is hot all over, and you can’t tell if it’s because you’re horrified or aroused. Maybe a little of both. 

“Are you kidding—you’re my boss!” 

“And we’re consenting adults!” he narrows his eyes at you, “don’t say you’ve never thought about it before.”

And the sick, twisted part of you has, a lot. There’s something about a man in a tailored suit and owning up to its power that’s really attractive. Not to mention all those times they’d be traveling for work, stumbling for a quick McDonald's bite at 12AM and he’d be dressed casually in tight black jeans and combat boots. The energy really kept you on your toes. 

“Wow, I really hate late-night talks. All the secrets come out, don’t they?” 

“If it makes you feel better, your ass looks great in pencil skirts,” you turn to him with flared eyes, “what? I’m just trying to let you know I mayhaps find you attractive.” 

“Mayhaps you should stop talking before I regret this.” 

His eyebrows lift and disappear from his bangs, the hair freshly dried and fluffy from his late night shower. He then pats his lap with a little blasé as if to say “hop on”, and you ignore the way how good the seat looks, his boxer briefs doing nothing to hide his unmentionables. 

Trying to fight alongside your last drop of dignity, you take your time. 

“C’mon y/n, don’t make it weird.” 

“It’s been weird, Jeon! Jimin’s next door!” you hiss, backing away slightly, “Give me some time, I can’t just hump my boss!” 

“You’re not humping your boss.” Jungkook has the audacity to grin, the expression looking absolutely sinful in the moonlight. “Think of it as your lover wanting to make you feel good.” 

The bridge between love and hatred is a fine, fine line stemmed by passion. 

Careful, you lift your blankets up and slip out of them, moving to sit up. It’s ridiculous, tiptoeing around your bed to avoid any sudden creaks in the aged wood of your mahogany headboard. 

“We’re out to prove to your family we fuck on the reg,” Jungkook snips, “you can make noise.” 

Within seconds, he’s hauling you on his lap. You squeak in surprise, feeling the thin material of his boxers seep through your thin silk shorts. You wriggle around, monitoring Jungkook’s expression. He does not allude too much, but you take note of the way Jungkook secures you with his hands between the swells of your thighs. 

“I’m not a rollercoaster, stop adjusting like you’re gonna buckle up.” 

Jungkook’s dry humor lightens the mood considerably, and you can’t help but smile timidly at his attempt to make you feel at ease. He lets you take your time, and you never imagined someone so demanding in the office can be so… kind in bed. 

You dip forward to kiss his lips once, twice. He looks needy, but lets you set the pace. You appreciate that. You’re salivating at his willingness to make you feel good, and you whimper as he nibbles on a sensitive spot on your neck. 

You need more. Sensing your urgency when you jerk his chin up, he muffles your sounds with a harsh kiss, taking care to moan deeply into your mouth. The heat is luxurious on this winter night, burgundy kisses exchanged between the sheets like secrets. His tongue slips between your teeth, tasting every inch of you and exploring you like the deepest texts. 

He pulls away slightly, and you’re drowning in his gaze. “Am I still just kinda-sorta handsome now?” he nips at your neck, sucking on a spot between your jaw. 

“N-no,” and you pull him up by the chin, taking in his messy hair and glazed eyes, “you’re fucking sexy,” and you tug your mouth to his once more. 

You don’t even realize that you’re rolling your hips until Jungkook breaks the kiss in favor of grabbing your hips, making sure your core is nestled perfectly between his hardening length. It doesn’t take long for the both of you to get wet, and the silk glides easily between your thighs like butter.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he encourages, one hand reaching up to cup your breast, “use me, make  yourself feel good.” 

“Please, don’t call me that,” you whine against his mouth, trying to keep the mood in, “Babe is fine, but baby girl makes me feel like a little kid and I’m not a little kid.”

“You damn right,” and he lifts his hips to meet yours in a sharp thrust, and you gasp hotly into his mouth. It’s too late to muffle your moans, not when you’re drenched with two pathetic pieces of fabric stopping the both of you. “You’re a gorgeous, intelligent, strong, amazing woman.” 

With every compliment, he does all the work, thrusting with each adjective like he’s blessing poetry into your body. 

“J-Jungkook,” the name is muffled against his shoulder, too fuzzed in ecstasy to be embarrassed by the drool coating his tank top. His hair tickles your shoulder as he nips at your clothed breasts, swirling around your nipple. “I-I, m’gonna come,” 

“You’re almost there huh?” and he slips a hand between you two to find that sweet spot, swirling designs between your shorts. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

And you’re shaking, collapsing into his embrace as he rides out your high. He cradles one hand in your hair as you rub furiously against his other, chasing your pleasure like a starved animal. 

“K-Kook,” you murmur into his neck, finding the strength to roll your hips one more time to check. “You’re still hard, do you want me to help?”

“No.” he’s forthright, and as tired as you are, you force yourself to pick your head up. Sweat lines his brow and his face is flushed, but he’s already helping you off and handing you a tissue from the nightstand. 

“What?” you’re hurt, and don’t want to admit why. 

“Don’t feel like you need to,” he grunts into your forehead, dipping a chaste kiss right in the center. “Just let me do something nice to you for once.” 

As much as you want to, you don’t complain as he tucks you in. You don’t complain when you see a wet stain on his Kirby boxer briefs. You don’t answer back when he checks his phone one more time and pulls you in to press a kiss to your cheek. It’s 12:31. 

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs into your skin, and turns over so his back faces you. 

Christmas is a loud and eager affair. The entirety of your family piles into your house while still in pajamas, aunts and uncles from other villas running in with their children with their newly opened toys and gadgets. There’s a buffet style breakfast piled on the kitchen island, and you’re all eating in the living room while watching holiday movies. 

Jungkook melds right in, unsurprisingly. He has your baby cousin Dante in his lap, teaching him how to use the controls of his new Nintendo Switch. 

Despite only meeting Jungkook a few days ago, you notice that some of your family have taken the liberty of giving him small presents. You spot a simple silver chain around his wrist, courtesy of Jimin, and a fluffy grey scarf wrapped around his neck, courtesy of your aunt’s impeccable knitting club. 

“He fits right in, doesn’t he?” 

Yoongi hands you your usual cup of tea, and you accept it gratefully. You’re sitting right next to the tree, and you notice that some of the ornaments are miniature books. You absentmindedly run your fingers over the carved wood, especially on the ones that are your favorite titles. 

“Yeah,” you hate to admit, so you whisper it into your mug. But Yoongi can hear, he always does. “I didn’t think it would be this easy.” 

“Easy to love him, or easy to fit into this family?” 

You splutter into your mug, and Yoongi does the right thing by patting your back. It feels a little bit like he’s burping a baby, but otherwise, it soothes your lungs. 

“I am happy for you, you know.” he says, knocking knees with you. “It might not seem like it now, but I truly am.” 

Deciding not to dwell on his subversive confession, you thank him for the tea and excuse yourself. Dante seems like he’s got the hang of MarioKart, so you tug Jungkook by the hand and lead him back into your bedroom. 

“I got you a present, but I didn’t feel like making a scene about it,” you pull out a pink gift bag, tufts of white tissue paper sticking out. “Also, it’s kinda cheap and it was a last minute thing, so don’t have any high expectations.” 

“Gee, you’re really making me feel deserving of this gift,” but he takes his time in unraveling the bag anyway. 

He pulls out a shiny onyx black mug, rolling it between his hands. On one side it’s engraved in gold cursive “World’s Best Boss” but on the other side it’s engraved, “World’s Best Husband”. 

“Subtle,” he grins, pulling you into a hug. He gets that it’s a gag gift, but because it’s from you, it's a lot more meaningful. You could’ve easily delved into his bank accounts and see what he buys for himself, but you decided to take the more personal route. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs into your hair. And to really throw you off he says, “For my gift, I’ve decided to publish your novel.” 

You shove him away as if you’ve been stung, and you barely have the voice to ask, “Are you serious, you’ve read my novel? I didn’t even send you the first draft!” 

“We share the same Google Drive, it was easy to find. If you had noticed, it’s the only thing I’ve been reading this week,” he shrugs as if it’s nothing, but he’s in actuality giving you your lifelong dream. “You deserve it, really. I’m sorry if you felt like it wasn’t ready to be read. But it was wonderful, you’re a real wordsmith.” 

“I’m not upset,” you can’t be, not when he smells so good and he’s trying to hug you all over again. “How many copies?”

“10,000.”

“20,000.”

“15,000, and I’ll even give you permission to dedicate your novel to me.” he raises his brows irreverently. 

You scoff at his arrogance, but you don’t admit to confessing that along with professors and your family, you would be dedicating it to him. “Well my gift feels like absolute shit,” you deadpan, “can I have a do-over tomorrow? We can go to the mall or something.”

“You’ve done enough for me,” he disagrees, breaking away from you to place the mug on your desk. “Agreeing to my farfetched proposal, letting me into your home. I think that’s an amazing gift.” 

“You’ve been way too nice,” you look at him wearily, noting the rosiness in his cheeks. 

“You say that like it’s not possible!” 

“Who knows? Maybe the Christmas spirit has performed a miracle, who am I to judge?” and you can’t get enough of the man, running into his heart one more time. Pressing your ear to his chest you sing, “Well, in the Poconos they say, that Jeon Jungkook’s heart grew three sizes that day.” 

It may have not grown three sizes, but if the living room wasn’t so loud, maybe you could’ve heard his heart beating three times as fast. 

The calm after the storm is your favorite part of Christmas. Most of your extended family has left to mull in their own homes, leaving your family to laze around until it’s just you and Jungkook that are awake. 

Jim Carrey’s version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas is playing on Netflix, arguably the only superior rendition of the children's book. The tree is still glowing by the fireplace, soft white lights trickling in the darkened room. 

Earlier in the night, you and Jungkook had cuddled up in the middle of the couch under a blanket, and were too lazy to move even when the entirety of your family vacated. Either of you could’ve easily shoved each other off and went to bed, but here you are, making offhand comments over hot cocoa. Each second that passes by, you’re more aware of how well you two sink between the fabric like you’re meant to do this. The domesticity terrifies you, but you don’t dare to point it out. 

“How does his face do that?” Jungkook turns to you, contorting his face into funny expressions. It’s a poor attempt at the green creature on the screen, but it makes your mouth twitch and you fight the urge to giggle. “It’s like he’s made of rubber.” 

“He has a sense of humor, unlike some people.” 

“Very funny,” he says, turning away to take a sip of his cooca. 

Sinking further into the couch, you unconsciously latch onto him more, savoring his body heat. “Can I confess something?”  

“What’s up?” 

“A week ago, I loathed you. I used to have recurring dreams about you getting run over by a Wonderbread truck. And I was driving the truck.” 

“Wow, that makes me feel so much better.” 

“No really, if I had the opportunity to watch you get hit by a cab, I would’ve paid for it.” 

“If it were possible for me to file for divorce at this very second, now would be time. You are a walking red flag.” 

“Okay, but!” you shush him with a finger to your lips, and he goes cross-eyed at the touch. “After seeing your stellar performance this week and an impeccable display of human emotion. I think after all of this, we could be friends.” 

“Fwends?” he says through your finger, mouth smushed. “Why whuh we?” 

Instead of lifting your finger right away, you swipe at his cherry lips, getting rid of the marshmallow sticking to the corners. 

“Because we get along.” you say simply.

“Because we’re supposed to be getting married.” 

“No! We’ve always gotten along! We’ve just been too up our asses to notice!” you sit up, appalled. “Here’s my theory, a change of setting has suddenly spurred on your character development—”

“—y’know I really don’t appreciate your use of literary jargon, it’s really pretentious—”

“—because without your external conflict, you have a chance to let loose and enjoy your life for once!” 

Jungkook frowns, adjusting his frame so he slightly hovers you. He’s pretty like this, dressed in fluffy black pajamas and his face soft. His eyes absorb the Christmas fairy lights, and you notice for the first time in two years that there are no longer purple bags under his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, voice so small you wonder if he’s worried to crush the moment. “Friends are hard.” 

You shake your head vehemently, “Friends are easy, keeping them is the hard part.”

He doesn’t know why he’s being so weird about this. You’ve worked for him for over two years, you know him as well as you know your skincare routine, down to the last detail. 

“Jeon, don’t think too hard about this,” you try to get him to lighten up, the intense look in his eyes throwing you in for a loop. It makes the little hamster wheel in your head spin rapidly, and you wonder if you’re really crossing a line. “Jimin said you had a really good time yesterday, I was almost jealous I couldn’t come shopping with you.” 

He cracks a smile at that, “Yeah, Jimin and I shared a moment,” and he leans down to the shell of your ear, “and he said he really enjoyed our moment last night.” 

“Oh my god!” you grab a nearby throw pillow, chucking the rough fabric in his face. 

He breaks into a laugh, but not the wine and dine chuckles that he’d have between terse negotiations for work. It’s a full out giggle, like he’s proud to have riled you up enough to break your resolve. Who knew your angry face could be so cute? 

“I guess if we’ve crossed a line, might as well make it all the way to the end,” Jungkook says easily, running a hand through his chocolate tresses. 

You and Jungkook are leaving the day after tomorrow. Most of your stuff is packed and ready to go, and you’re currently spending the rest of your night at a sit-down dinner with your immediate family plus Jimin. 

It’s peaceful, you muse. Jungkook even offered to help cook. Back at Big Hit not once did he ever bring leftovers from home, always insisting you order something for him during work. Kimchi fried rice is a simple dish, but Jungkook had taken great care in making sure it was cooked properly and adjusted to your family’s tastes. 

Your parents are glowing and enjoying their time with the whole family, a rarity that grows more valuable with age. The meal soothes you like a balm, reminding you of old conversations that had you spew milk out of your nose or Namjoon accidentally spilling beans on your lap. 

“Oh, you should also clear your schedule for the first week of September,” Jimin says absentmindedly, shoving another mouthful of fried rice. “Besides Easter, Jungkook says we can celebrate his birthday and visit for the weekend.” 

“Seriously,” Namjoon balks, sitting up straight as he regards you in disbelief. “You’re sure your Devil of a boss will enjoy you out of his chains for two vacations, god forbid you take the holidays off again.” 

The grip on your fork tightens, but you steel yourself. Honestly, you were wondering why it took Namjoon this long to let it all out. He was always vehemently against your job, as he was the person who got the brunt of your vents when you were stressed. Probably for the sake of Christmas he let it go, but now that it’s over, the topic’s fair game. 

“Oh, c’mon Joonie,” your mother frowns, “not at the table.” 

“He isn’t that bad, Joon.” you reason, completely ignoring Jungkook as you stare straight at your brother. “He means well—”

“Means well?” Namjoon barks a laugh, as if it’s the most laudable thing. “Sis, you cried everyday for a straight month after you were hired.” he places his hands on the table, regarding you carefully, “I had to personally call your doctor in New York to get you sleeping pills, and not to mention that two weeks ago, you were crying again because you were worried he forgot your vacation and would make you work! Don’t tell me he ‘means well’ when I’ve been busy picking up the pieces!” 

At this point, you’re livid. Jungkook’s right here, and while you can’t go ahead and out the fact that he is your boss, you can still have his back. 

They don’t know that you’ve picked the pieces back up, reinforced yourself to create a better version of the person you once were. 

“He does mean well,” you cry, matching your brother’s red tone to a T. “He’s just stressed and genuinely cares about the company. I choose to work long hours because he takes his time in making sure the work we publish is worthwhile, and I support that. He’s hard on me because he knows I have potential. He’s going to make sure I succeed.” 

Namjoon looks at you like you’ve grown two heads. “You’re seriously defending your shitty boss?” 

Jimin puts a hand over Namjoon’s in an attempt to placate him, but he shoves it away.

“Honestly,” Namjoon spits venom, “how can you possibly stand to be around someone who makes your life so miserable?” 

Your meal has gone cold, and your fists clutch desperately at your jeans. The breath is robbed from your lungs, and you can’t look at anyone for fear of them regarding you with guilt. You know since the day you got hired that your family wasn’t exactly enthused at your boss’ level of expectation and work output. But they don’t know the industry, and they don’t even really know Jungkook past the surface level. . 

But you know in their eyes, they’re right. Their daughter left their comfy home to pursue her lifelong dream, only for it to be broken in a matter of weeks. It’s natural to feel protective, and while you’re resilient and were able to get it together as of late, it wasn’t enough for them to understand. As someone who loves you, it’s obvious they’d want to blame your boss, blame Jungkook for your suffering. 

You imagine your father would ask Namjoon to step outside, or your parents would make Jimin pull you and Jungkook out. Neither of those things happen.

A warm, large hand is placed on top of yours. You look towards Jungkook, face unreadable as he squeezes your thigh. 

“Namjoon’s right.” Jungkook utters, pressing his lips together. “You deserve to be treated with respect. The boss has never appreciated the hard work you do, at least not out loud. You’re too good for him.”

“Jungkook,” you gape, putting your other hand over his. 

He pulls away at your touch, glancing at the clock. “This dinner was wonderful,” he says gently, looking apologetic to your parents. “Excuse me, but I promised to call my parents at this time.” 

The excuse is completely half-assed, but no one says anything as he leaves, walking out the door without a coat. The table is terse, with your parents attempting to coax out dessert while Jimin clears the dinner table. You refuse to look at Namjoon, who has no idea why you’re so upset. You wait five minutes before you mumble about getting Jungkook a jacket. 

However, when you open the door he isn’t sitting on the porch. He’s all the way up the street, too far for you to be heard with a yell, and walking farther into town. The black hoodie falls to your side, disappointed. 

Jungkook does in fact, call his parents. Your mother suggested it when she gave him the ring, thinking it would ease his homesickness if he made a better effort to communicate his feelings. 

And so he spends over an hour huddled in a cafe, talking about nothing and everything with his mom and dad. He tells them about the little novelties he’s experienced this week, like making popcorn strings and picking out themed Christmas ornaments. He tells him how he promises to book a flight back to Korea as soon as his work visa goes through. While he doesn’t mention the proposal, he mentions you. He prattles on and on about how strong and beautiful you are, and how you’ve crept up on him and made him realize how awful of a person he was. 

His mom prattles excitedly through the line, saying that women make you realize how much better you can be for them, but she doesn’t know the half of it. 

Jungkook sat there in your dining room, Namjoon boldly telling you off about how miserable he’s made you. 

And yet still, you defended him in ways he never imagined. Your relationship has always been mutual, and prickly at best. You balanced each other out, but he knows he doesn’t deserve you. When he first hired you, he rendered you indispensable like all the other assistants that couldn’t handle it. You’d break eventually. 

And you did break. But you picked up the pieces and put yourself back together, and you didn’t resent him for it. He hated that. How can you trust someone who’s hurt you so much? 

He can’t let you go through with this marriage. You’re wrong. You don’t need him to be successful. 

[11:09] You: mom unlocked the door for you. Jimin and i went out for drinks so idk when ill be back

[11:09] You: please don’t be mad at me

Silly girl, why would he ever be mad at you? 

His plan is simple, Sneak into your villa, grab his luggage, and try to book the earliest flight back to New York. Then, he can come clean to Taeyeon and spend the year in Korea while they work out his visa issues. He’ll quietly pack his things and clear out the office before Monday.  Hopefully by the time he makes it to Busan, he can forgive himself. He’s going to regret missing your expression when you get to hold the first physical copy of your novel. 

This plan proves difficult when he sees Namjoon waiting outside for him, sitting on his luggage and reading a book. His long legs are splayed across the porch, and he doesn’t spare Jungkook a glance.

“Knew something was off,” the older man doesn’t look up from his novel, “found the mug on her desk, bossman.” 

Muttering a curse under his breath Jungkook opens his arms, “Are you gonna beat me up now?” 

“What? No, I’m a lover, not a fighter.” Jungkook scoffs, and watches Namjoon roll his luggage to the back of the van. “And out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll save you the Lyft fare and drive you to the airport.” 

Is he that predictable? He flinches at the sudden jet of the ignition, and he takes heavy, snow-laden steps to the passenger seat. Once buckled in, Namjoon tosses the book in his lap. “Some light reading for the drive.” 

If Namjoon wasn’t the driver, he wouldn’t hesitate to chuck the book at his big, intelligent head. Instead, he glowers, clutching the book tightly. It’s only when they round the corner to a house brightly decorated with lights, does he see what novel Namjoon’s plucked. 

A Mutually-Assured Attachment. Jungkook tosses the book back and forth between his palms, noting the soft cover is so worn it could melt apart in his lap. It feels tended and loved from years of use. 

It’s Jungkook’s first novel, and you had a copy. One of the first editions, if he remembers the cover art correctly. Granted, he thought you had some of his books purely because of your job, but not one from your childhood. Frankly he thought this should have never been published, but he was nineteen and that in itself was a large feat. 

He carefully peels the pages, and takes out his phone to shine the flashlight mode. At the very front, blood red ink is scratched next to the title: “this is THE most pretentious title i’ve read in my life! Don’t disappoint me jeon!!” 

Your handwriting’s all over the place. He sees graphite, gel, and glitter pens mark the margins, as if you’ve come back each time to write something new. The annotations vary, from “this part sucks” to “shit, that’s good i should do that”. You draw little pictures of the objects he’s contrived, from the little brass locket one character cherishes to the facial expressions you imagine they hold. 

And at the very end, your handwriting sits neat and bold on the inside cover: I can do better than him. 

Jungkook chuckles to himself, turning off the light. You’re always right. 

Namjoon senses the younger one is done, and he clears his throat. “I really really don’t understand what she sees in you.” 

“I don’t understand either,” Jungkook agrees easily, his finger tracing your handwriting. He muses that you were always out to get him, even if you didn’t know it. 

Namjoon masks his surprise by clearing his throat. “But I’d rather seek to understand than live the rest of my life having my sister resent me. I don’t really know what you two are going through, but if she trusts you with her life, I’ll try. Emphasis on try.” 

“I don’t deserve your trust.” 

“You damn right you don’t,” succumbing to his impulses Namjoon makes a sharp turn, and Jungkook holds his stomach together before it flies out the window.  

You come home to find your room cold and barren. All of Jungkook’s things are gone, except your Christmas mug. 

You at least thought Jungkook would spare you a goodbye before he ditched you. You hoped you’d at least consider each other friends who provide explanations after all of this. 

Lifting the mug off the desk, you hear a little clink in the glass, the chime unfamiliar. Hurriedly, you pour out its contents. A heavy, tungsten black ring lands in your palm. You clench the metal between your fingers, hugging it to your chest. 

Mind made up, you dash out to the hallway, nearly bumping into your cousin. At the same time you and Jimin blurt, “We need to go to the airport.” 

Apparently Namjoon warned Jimin that something fishy’s going on. Namjoon didn’t know what, but he had the inkling that Jungkook was hiding something. Once Jimin received the text to meet them at the airport, he flung you in his sedan and floored it. Flushed with adrenaline, Jimin is speeding with a fervor you’ve never experienced. 

“Can you please, take the edge off and tell me what the hell is going on?” 

Just like how Jungkook didn’t want Big Hit to go down the drain, you didn’t want this week to be in vain. You can’t wait a year for Jungkook to come back, and you didn’t want to publish your first novel without him by your side. 

“Long version or short version?” 

“The in-the-middle version. I don’t think I have the brain capacity to absorb all your drama right now but I really need some answers.” 

“O-kay. Basically, Jungkook isn’t a Literary Agent. He’s my god-awful boss. Or was awful, I don’t know. Jungkook left the country before his work visa was fully processed. That’s a breach, so he needs to live in Korea for a year to come back. But he can’t run Big Hit remotely, so he proposed to marry me to attain citizenship.”

Your head whips to the dashboard and you cry out, barely stopping the impact with your hands.  

“Sorry, sorry!” Jimin’s eyes are focused on the red light, absolutely terrified. “Bitch, you’re committing fraud with your boss! You could go to jail, that’s like, the hottest love story ever!” 

“But he’s going back to Korea because now he suddenly realized he can forge basic human connection.” you mutter, “so no, we’re not going to jail because he’s decided to do the right thing.” 

“So what you’re saying is, Jungkook has achieved self-actualization and decided to peacefully move to Korea and sacrifice the company for you.” Jimin is carving his free hand in the air, gesturing wildly. “Don’t you see! He really likes you.”

“Yeah, so now we need to go to the airport and tell his dumbass this isn’t the time to be selfless.” 

Once you find a spot you’re rushing out of the car, weaving between carts and people to find the correct terminal. This airport is much smaller than JFK, so it’s easy for you to navigate and get past the TSA. It also helps that Jin’s wife is an attendant. 

“He chose the 1:45 flight in Terminal 31A,” Mijoo chirps from her tablet, leading you in the right direction. She’s dressed impeccably, the odds and ends of this airport glued together by her impeccable organization. She points to the clock, which glares a digital 1:18AM. “You have time.” 

“Thank you Mijoo,” you exhale gratefully, “and I’m so so sorry I skipped your wedding!” 

“This is the 300th time you’ve said it,” Mijoo rolls her eyes, pushing you and Jimin forward, “But I’ll make sure not to miss your wedding.” 

You’re sweating from your down jacket, and you can’t believe it’s really all come down to this. The one person you’ve spent the last two years of your life doting on, and you didn’t want to stop. You wanted him not just for the publication of your novel, but because you needed him. 

Jungkook’s sitting in the waiting area of Terminal 31A, looking wholly inconspicuous as he reads a book and has his hood propped up. 

Fists balled, you stride forward only to have Jimin tug you back. “What?” 

Jimin pulls off your thick coat, making haste to wipe the sweat off your brow with his sleeves and flatten your messy hair. “What?” he tilts his head to the side, “you need to look good before the big confrontation. I’m recording this for archival purposes. Do you have any lip balm by any chance? You look chapped.” 

You slap his hands away, but those grubby fingers just come back with a vengeance. “My life is just a big show to you, isn’t it?”

“Living vicariously all day, every day.” 

While Jimin parts your bangs, the intercom cuts through the air. 

“The 1:45 flight to John F. Kennedy International airport will now commence boarding. Please line up according to the ticket class.” 

Jimin smiles at you, squeezing your shoulders and gestures for you to go. To your horror, Jungkook is first in line. Panic bubbles to your throat.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you cry, voice echoing throughout the terminal. “If you so much breathe in the direction of that plane I will call Mark Lee right this second and tell him the book series is off!” 

Like a deer in the headlights, Jungkook heeds to your voice immediately. In his stupor you jog forward to snatch his wrist and pull him out of line. You don’t let go until you’re away from the long line, and Jungkook tugs his wrist away. 

“Don’t you dare call him,” Jungkook looks serious, as if you didn’t drive all the way to stop him from making the biggest mistake of his life. “I will never forgive you if you terminate Mark Lee’s contract.” 

“And I won’t forgive you if you get on that plane.” 

Pain flashes in his eyes, and he shakes his head. “I need to. I can’t let us—let you go through with this. You and your family deserve better.” 

“What? Jungkook, I agreed to this just as much as you did.” 

“No, you didn’t.” he’s adamant, and steps back with every step you take forward. “As your boss I threatened you, held it over your head like an ultimatum. I’ve hurt you,” his voice cracks, looking at you desperately, “why would you want to be stuck with me when I’ve made your life miserable?” 

“If I really wanted to leave, I would’ve done it a long time ago.” You reason, “Do you really want to leave the company behind? To fucking Karen?” 

“Of course I don’t!” Jungkook exclaims, “but it isn’t worth hurting you, hurting your family and everyone that loves you.” 

“And what about you? You’ll be hurt when you leave,” and you step forward, so close that your chests are touching. You take hold of his hands, clutching them between your small ones. “Don’t go, stay with me in New York. We’ll both work hard and try to not run each other to the ground. Let’s be better together.” 

You’re practically begging, biting your lip raw and hoping Jungkook understands how good this change is for the both of you. 

Jungkook is conflicted, looking back and forth between the airline boarding for JFK and your watery eyes. He hates seeing you like this. He can’t imagine you, the strongest woman he’s ever met, crying because of him. Namjoon’s voice echoes in his mind and he tries to smash it to the edge of his memory. But as always, you’re right. 

He replaces your grip with his own, and gets down on one knee. 

Jungkook says your name like it's the sweetest of songs. You’ve never seen him so terrified. “y/n, I didn’t do it right the first time, so let me try again. Please, marry me. Marry me because I want to date you. I want to take you out and give you what you deserve, what we deserve. I want to do better for myself, do better for you. I’ve realized you’re the only person that makes me feel like I’m simultaneously on fire and on thin ice,” he pulls out a velvet box from his pocket, revealing a thin band with interlocking black and clear diamond studs. It’s a pretty little thing, with a groove in the center so it stacks perfectly with your engagement ring. “This was supposed to be your Christmas present, but I chickened out at the last second,” he says sheepishly, tucking his head in. “But if you let me put this ring on your finger, I promise to be your home away from home.”  

With a sob you fall to your knees, throwing yourself onto Jungkook. A small “oof” escapes his lips, and he struggles to hold your waist so you both don’t topple over. “Yes, yes, yes!” you cry, pulling away to cup his face with both hands, pulling him into a sweet kiss. 

Jungkook’s smile takes up his entire face, and he eagerly pecks your lips one more time before ripping the ring from its holder and stacking it on top of your engagement ring. The teardrop diamond is nestled perfectly between the thinner band’s V. “Pretty,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“Wait,” you pull out the black ring that you found in your room, holding it to his face. “I’m assuming this is yours?” 

“Yeah,” he replies, “your mother said it was your great grandfather’s. It’s not an engagement ring, but it’s the thought that counts.” 

“It matches,” you hum, placing his simpler band in his ring finger. Once it’s on, you take a deep breath. “Shit, we’re really doing this?” 

Jungkook pulls you to stand, wiping the happy tears from your cheek. “We are, we’re a team, remember? We’ve crossed the line and we gotta finish it.” 

And he picks you up, the workouts definitely paying off as he spins you around like you’re the leads in La-La Land, drunk off the happy chemicals firing in your brain. Jimin whoops and hollers, along with all the other patrons in the vicinity of the airport terminal. 

Your real-fiancé puts you down, the both of you now hyperconscious of the stares people give you. Other people have filmed the proposal as well, completely smitten by your confessions. 

“Jungkook,” you giggle into his shoulder, “you were right. Our story is straight out of a Wattpad entry.” 

“Down to the super cheesy in-public airport proposal?” he chimes, pressing his forehead to yours. “Couldn’t have asked for a better love story.” 

“I can’t wait to fall in love with you,” you whisper, quiet enough for his ears only, “for real, this time.” 

“Not that it’s a challenge,” he teases softly, “but I’m already halfway there.” 

some months later.

“Like the new office, boss lady?” your new assistant (yes, you have an assistant!) asks kindly, his bubbly presence uplifting you immediately. He leads you to the window box, filled with tiny plants. “I figured you like succulents, because you have no time to water them and they’re prickly like you.” 

“Very funny, Seungkwan.” you chide good-naturedly, picking up a succulent with a yellow flower in the middle. “But thank you, your interior design skills are outmatched. I can’t wait to work with you.” 

“Me too, your social commentary you published on the literary industry? And you managed to lace it all up in an inconspicuous fantasy novel?” Seungkwan boasts, “I applied for this position right then and there.” 

“Thanks Seungkwan, why don’t you take your lunch and we’ll meet back at one to discuss our plans for next week.” 

“Sounds good, do you want me to pick you up something?” 

“I’m good, I’m meeting with the bossman.” 

Seungkwan gives you that look, his lips jutting out in a suggestive manner that almost makes you burst into giggles. Your assistant decides not to bother you until after you’ve eaten, and bids you goodbye. 

Just when you get a moment of peace, a handsome face pokes his way inside. “Hello editor,” Jungkook knocks on your door for the sake of attention, but you’re already dragging him into the office and shutting the door tight. “Like your new office?” 

“Love it,” you moan, gesturing to Seungkwan’s light filtering curtains. They’re not dark, rather a tasteful sea green, but they’re opaque enough to stop wandering eyes from peeking into your space. Your personal space was a qualm that immediately needed to be mended after your experience in Jungkook’s office. “A lot more private than your office.” 

“A little part of me hates how much you deserve this promotion,” he sits on your desk, and doesn’t hesitate to pull you between his legs, letting you lean into his chest, “but I do love the added privacy.” 

You fiddle with the buttons of his navy collar, his strong thighs trap you between him, “Why, miss me already?” 

He shrugs, “Taehyung doesn’t look as good as you do in a pencil skirt.” 

You laugh, brushing the strands of hair that fall from his coiff. “No one looks as good as I do in a pencil skirt.” A firm grip confirms that, two strong hands cupping your backside. “Mr. Jeon!” you gasp playfully, pushing him away slightly to pinch his cheeky grin. “Can we save this for later? I’m hungry, but we can always continue this for dessert.” 

He groans in your neck, “Love the sound of that, Mrs. Jeon.” 

bonus.

“FUUUCCCKKKKKK YEEAAHHHHH!” Park Jimin’s voice bounces off the walls of Taeyeon’s office, his face taking up the entire screen of his desktop as the camera shifts harshly between him and you and Jungkook at the airport. “My cousin’s not going to jail! WOO!” 

Taeyeon pauses the YouTube video at a particularly unflattering screencap: Jimin’s nostrils are flaring wildly and he looks fairly high mid-scream. 

A low whistle escapes Jungkook’s lips, “Wow. That video’s viral,” he looks to you appreciatively, “if Jimin kicks off his YouTube career, you think we can milk a memoir outta him?” 

“Potentially,” you reply nonchalantly, playing with your rings. 

“So,” Taeyeon’s voice is icy, slashing between your casual conversation, “you’re getting married, for real this time?” 

“Yep,” Jungkook pops. 

“Alright,” and from her desk she pulls out an ungodly stack of documents, one that mirrors your own back at the office. “Jungkook, you’ll stay with me. y/n, you’ll go to Vernon’s office and he’ll give you the same spiel. We’ll interview you privately with the same questions. A hair out of place and you’re in trouble. You sure you want to go through with this?” 

You and Jungkook exchange looks, betting your own company that you got this in the bag. 

“Hit us with your best shot.” 

[sunaluvs]

《 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐩? 》

↳ in which a breaking point was reached.

↳ ft. oikawa tooru.

tags: angst, couples fighting, a little fluff at the end + gn!reader || sfw.

wc: 1.06k

A/N: i rlly enjoyed writing this!! directly inspired by build me up buttercup - lara anderson cover (i listened to it on repeat while writing this so maybe listen to it while reading? might make the experience better nsbdndh). anyway !!! enjoy, and as always, feedback is vv much appreciated <33

the clock continues ticking as time passes by, the numbers reading 10:35 pm as you lay on your couch, eyes staring up at the ceiling.

your face feels cracked with the leftovers of your dried tears, and your throat is parched and sore from all the yelling you did. your fingers twitch, trying to move from the position it's been in for the last hour.

you feel your eyes water from the lack of blinking, but you can't bother with the energy of closing them. he wouldn't be here when you opened them anyway.

the silence of the apartment is loud, but it does nothing to muffle the shouts that rang through the apartment a few hours prior.

"you're never here, tooru! when was the last you had a proper fucking conversation with me? two weeks ago?!"

"listen to me, you knew when we graduated that this is exactly what would be happening! why are you complaining now?!"

"i can do a week, i can do 3 weeks; hell, i can even do a whole fucking month! as long as i, at least, know what you're doing! but you don't even tell me what time you're coming back! you don't answer my calls, and only give me one-worded answers when you actually have the decency to fucking talk to me."

"you know how busy i am! the Olympics are near, and everyone is giving it their all! why the hell shouldn't i do the same? why can't you understand that?"

"you know full fucking well that i've always fully supported you for every step of your career. i didn't say shit when you went to Argentina because i understood that it was what you had to do! because i love you! now we're in the same goddamn country but i don't even feel like im in a relationship anymore."

"then maybe it'd be better if you weren't."

the words echo in your mind, ringing through your ears as the same image replays over and over again in your head.

the anger that twisted your boyfriend’s features, and turned it into something that shot right through your soul. the cutting edge of his voice as he spat the words from his mouth like poison, his eyes glazed over in fury, before he turned around and left you, slamming the door of your apartment shut.

left you.

he left you.

the memory makes your breath start to pick up again. it makes your fingers shake and eyes start to tear up, your tear ducts somehow still able to shed more pain despite the hollowness in your chest.

the jingle of keys outside your door forces your heart to stop, your body freezing and breath catching in your throat as you listen to the tell-tale 'click' of the lock turning, the noise deafening in the silence of the apartment.

you force your eyes to stay on the ceiling, listening to the sounds of heavy feet shuffling and the door shutting closed before silence smothers the apartment once again.

you quickly squeeze them shut once you hear footsteps nearing you, the tears built up at the corners of your eyes trailing down your temple. you force yourself to take deep, steadying breaths once you hear the footfalls stop right beside your couch.

neither of you break the quiet, and you can't tell what tooru is doing or the state of his being. you try to ignore the pressuring presence of your boyfriend, and instead continue focusing on the steady in and out, in and out of your breathing.

suddenly, the pressure is gone as a 'thud' sounds, the noise startling you and making your eyes snap open and head twist to the side, looking for the source—

—only to find tooru on his knees next to you, face buried in his hands as muffled sobs and apologies spill like a river from his heart.

"'m sorry, baby. 'm so sorry, please forgive me, i swear i didn't mean anything, not a word of what i said please you have to believe me im sorry im sorry im so sorry—"

his breath catches but his tears don't stop, not once lifting his head from his hands as shame and agony consumes him from the inside out.

"—don't leave me, i promise i'll be better, i'll try so hard to be better for you, i promise, just please stay with me, i love you i love you i love you—"

your heart cracks open and shatters before you scramble up and throw yourself onto him. your arms wrap around him, squeezing with all the love you have within you. his hands latch onto your shirt, fists pulling you closer, while he buries his cries into your shoulder.

it could've been minutes. it could've been hours or days or decades. the world could have stopped and burned down, and the people could have completely disappeared.

a while later finds you both still on the ground, limbs intertwined with dried tears on both of your faces.

and it wouldn't have mattered to either of you, as you held the other close and broke down in each other's arms.

—

tooru's breathing is deep and heavy against the crook of your neck, trying to stabilize himself by inhaling your delicate scent, one that he's always associated with home.

the years he'd spent in Argentina were exhilarating, yes, and exciting and new, but it was never home for him. not when you weren't there. not when he didn't have you next to him.

you, with your steadying touch and lucid smile that never failed to kick-start his heartbeat all over again. you, with your honeyed voice and soft glances that always made his heart fill up and spill over with warmth and tenderness.

you, who's stayed by his side for the last 5 years and have always been there for him, even at times when he was blinded by his ambition and couldn't see anything around him.

so when tooru lifts his head and looks into your red-rimmed eyes, and sees nothing but love for him—always for him—his breath stutters, and his heart catches in his throat.

you give him a watery smile, one that speaks more than either of you could, holds more meaning more than any words could define, and he returns it, because he knows, and so do you.

you'll both be fine. you always are.

[binniesthighs]

shy and inexperienced reader first time with jisung🥺 fluffy smut with han bc he's just so cute and i think he would be so gentle and loving ahh maybe im crying -🐱 (umm i was the one who requested that neighbours to lovers w lee know n i decided to be 🐱 anon from now on also im looking forward to it i cant wait!!! ik ur gnna write the cutest thing ever ur great i love youuu)

hello this is the cutest thing ever??? and hello 🐱anon omg!! welcome welcome eehee ♡ ah! also! I’m so hyped to get Two Tails going!! I hope that ya enjoyed the first part :) 

lets be honest, han jisung would be ready to go not even two weeks into the realtionship

please don’t fault him for it tho!! he just really really wants sexy cuddles and kisses all over his body, he literally daydreams about it all the time and can’t wait!

also he’s got you!! literally every little quirk about you turns him on, he’s sooo weak for you  

he’d never never bring it up though until you’re ready

and you’ve been thinking about it

come on we’re talking about the one and only han jisung here!! his charisma is through the roof!! he’d wink at you and your head would be spinning over how badly you’d love to have him do whatever he wants!!

there’s something about the way that he gives you shoulder massages or plays with your hair that just gets you aching to take it further with him

but, you haven’t done anything before 🥺outside of, of course, a couple make out sessions and that one day’s dry jumping that got you way more excited than you expected

so, jisung is sleeping over at your place (as he often will—“your bed is just so much comfier than mine!!”)

he’ll roll over to swoop ya up and hold you all close to him, nuzzling is head into your shoulder.

theres nothing cozier than your ball of sungie hehe—sidenote

you being the little spoon, you’re often VERY aware of how both of your hips kinda interlock

you barely know how to initiate, so you start grinding into his lap, making extra effort to let your ass brush up against those soft cotton boxers of his

he’d giggle “what are you doing?”

“i just like how it feels” you mutter quietly

“what’s that babe? can you say that again?”

this time you grind down harder, and he feels it

jisung groans out a bit, then pulls you into him, no space between your bodies while you continue. he’s gulping down every little bit sensation he can feel

knowing how he’d never want push your boundaries, he’d even be okay letting you grind an orgasm out of him just like this

but that’s not what you want

jisung would kiss careful lips into your neck where your shirt collar dips a little, letting you hear his needy little gasps in your ear

he’d whisper, “can I please touch you?”

you immediately nod, getting that feeling once again: you want to be completely at his mercy.

you're too embarrassed to ask for anything in specific, but would much rather him do anything he’s been imagining

immediately his hands are all over you skin, touching you in places you’ve never been touched before, you didn’t even know you could feel this way

jisung’s hands fall up and down your body: all over and around your legs, digging into the skin of your thighs and waist, up on your chest too, spreading his fingers out so he doesn’t miss an inch.

he’s got calluses on his finger tips from playing guitar that day, but feeling the rough skin on yours makes you tremble

he nibbles at your ear too while his hands reach your hardened nipples which hurt a little under the fabric of your shirt. he pinches and pulls at them, creating a whole new sensation

the sounds you’re making are so foreign, you had no idea you could do such a thing but you can’t stop at all

“are you ready tonight? is this what you want?”

your voice cracks giving him your affirmation

“baby you’re so perfect. i’ve waited so long for you, I only want to make you feel good. just relax okay?”

Jisung’s hand returns to your waistband where he reaches in from behind you to ghost over your wetted underwear.

“oh my god,” he nearly growls into you ear

by now he’s nearly panting into you while he explores your arousal, reaching under your underwear at last

for good measure, you grind down as hard as you can into his lap while he traces your throbbing sex first, then begins to rub at you as slowly and carefully as he can

pressed against your ass, his twitching hard-on swells by the second

with his free hand, he continues exploring your body, steadily maintaining his pace below your waist

“do you like this? shit, you’re unreal.”

your face is furiously warm, and you even feel like hiding your face even though he can’t really see it from behind you

“mm-so…good.” you whimper, then find yourself now grinding into both his hand and his lap

“are you ready for more?”

his vibrato lowers while he brings his lips back to your neck, this time pulling at the skin and marking you as his

“m-more.” you barley manage to squeak

jisung pulls your sleepshorts and underwear off, then does the same to himself

suddenly under the sheets it feels a lot warmer

from behind you, jisung grabs at his hardened dick to tease your enterance with his tip—something that drives you mad with desire for him to just fucking start already—but you’d never find the words to say so

jisung lets shakey breaths of his fall all over your shoulder as he guides himself in, and sinks down just slightly to get the best angle he can

he pushes himself into you fully, stretching out your neglected hole until it hurts just a little

jisung grunts out a string of explicit words while clawing into your frame and gifting kisses to your back

you moan out a little in response while you get used to the feeling of him being inside you. he smooths down your whole shaking body while he lets himself bottom out within you

“you feel so amazing baby, you’re doing so good, so good. are you okay?”

you nod, but that’s not the answer jisung was looking for

“I’ll only accept a yes, okay?”

your fingers dig deep into your pillowcase. “Yes, yeah I’m okay, can you…keep going?”

“of course my love. tonight I’ll take it slow. I can’t promise the same for other nights though.” He laughs a little to himself

Jisung’s makes his first thrust and your body feels explosive. his length and girth are perfect for you, and this deep inside he gives you another round of pleasure that feels dream-like

he sets a pace, slow are careful while holding your back firmly against his chest.

“oh god” he exclaims once, then repeats the phrase more once he starts to reach deep inside

jisung holds onto you as if his life depends on it and he fucks you deeper, relishing each and every pretty little moan that escapes your lips

“can you do it louder for me baby? say my name when you cum for me hmm?”

you’re even more flustered from his request, but gather up all your will to not let him down.

his breath quickens and he starts to go a little faster, building up an orgasm within you with astonishing speed

“god, I love you.”

his hips snap while his pace becomes frantic, just as you’re both about to cum, he reaches down once more to rub into you needily and lovingly

“-gonna cum—cum with me?”

he pleads into your skin, then with a couple more whips, his cum is seeping inside your hole with an unexpected warmth. you’re already addicted to the way his dick throbs inside you as you’re both in aftershocks

you remain this way for a while, simply soaking up every bit of intimacy you can feeling connected in this new way

“did that all feel good for you?” he sweeps some strands of your hair from your eyes, pulling you back slightly to press kisses now on your lips

“I really liked it” you timidly let up, coupled with a giddy little smile

he gives you another one of those winks that makes your heart race 

“I can’t wait to do more with you angel, this is only just the beginning.”

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

“Vivienne x Mc, where Mc gets injured and falls unconscious and later Vivienne taking care?“

Pairing with:

Mc x Vivienne - QoT Mc was really close to an explosion during a heist, causing her to permanently loss her hearing. You can include the other members too because I want to see how will they handle future heist when one of their has been injured, how does Vivienne react? Will she let mc continue or not? And how does mc feel? Does she feel she cannot as much as before lost her hearing?

HEY... how do you think Vivienne would deal with a deaf MC? im deaf myself 😳😳 headcanons work if they're easier!

QOT MC gets caught up in the blast from one of Jett’s explosives, and now has severe burns acrros her face and other parts of her body along with slight deafness. Could I get a fic of Vivienne comforting her, and telling her she’s still beautiful? Thanks!

…

Warning: Writer’s first time writing a hard of hearing character.

TW: Panic attacks. Mentions of injury. Mentions of scarring.

Introspection-heavy fic.

…

The explosion was one of Jett’s finest work up to date.

Vivienne could feel it rattle her very bones, even though she was quite a distance away. The building crumbled easily and readily, becoming nothing but a sour-tasting memory. She nodded approvingly, letting out a small sigh in relief. There it went, up in smoke, all the incriminating evidence Benicio had gathered on them. And, as a bonus, most of his fake career.

“Ha! That was amazing!” Jett laughed, his voice bright with happiness, high with adrenaline. The rest of the Poppy soon joined in, albeit in less boisterous chuckles.

Coming down from the building she was in was child’s play. She abandoned Benicio’s unconscious body for the authorities to find, humming to herself as she made her way over to Leon, just barely paying attention to the conversation of the rest of the Poppy.

It doesn’t take long for her to notice that something is wrong. That something is missing.

She balances on top of the balcony she’s on, dread creeping over her body like lead, making her feel sluggish.

“Has anyone heard MC?”

The idle chatter stops. Vivienne can feel the shift in the atmosphere, can practically hear it become tense and chilly.

Amidst the muttered ‘no’ of the rest of the members, Zoe’s voice sounds surprisingly clear, a tinge of panic and worry that makes Vivienne lurch forward, desperate to reach the ground. “I lost her signal. Something must have happened!”

“But Benicio is out cold this time-”

“Nadia backed off, right? She couldn’t have-”

“And there is no way Francesca would-”

“Maybe,” Jett’s voice sounds hesitant, an echo of his usual self. “She got… caught by the explosion.”

Remy scoffs. “There’s no way that could have happened, MC knew the dangers!”

“Keep an eye out for the police, Zoe. We need to look for her,” Nikolai commanded, his voice as cold and hard as steel, immediately cutting through the panicked chatter.

Vivienne lets her teammates handle the distractions to stall the police a bit longer, her mind set only on making sure MC was all right. She hadn’t felt so frightened since everything that happened with Isadora, and she refused to let anything even remotely similar happen again. She couldn’t lose anyone precious to her. She couldn’t. One more person, and her soul would have been shattered beyond repair.

Not to mention, the whole issue with Benicio was her fault in the first place. If MC got hurt… god, if she got hurt…

“Ambulance! Can someone call an ambulance?”

Her head whipped around, eyes wide. There was a man shouting desperately a few meters away, making frantic motions to something behind him. Mouth dry, Vivienne relayed the situation to the rest of the Poppy. Her legs felt like jelly. She wondered if she’d crumble into an unrepairable mess when she got close enough, but no such thing happened. She moved forward as if possessed, dropping to her knees near two bodies. One was a small child, and the other was MC, cradling the child as if she was trying to protect him from the entire world.

They were both unconscious. Vivienne’s eyes trailed MC’s exposed skin, painted an angry red down to its very core, from her left shoulder down to her thigh. Her clothes were ruined, charred beyond recognition, sticking to MC’s body like a second skin. Vivienne’s first instinct is to throw her cape over her, just to cover the burns. Her hands are shaking so bad it proves to be quite the difficult task.

The child MC is holding seems fine, his burns less severe than MC’s, which eases Vivienne’s worry somewhat.

Jett was right. She had been caught up in the explosion.

…

“I had to pull a lot of favors to erase our trail, but at least the police won’t find us for a while. We can lay low while MC recovers.” Zoe informed them, a few nights later, exhaustion sipping from her like water out of a waterfall. Nikolai is in a similar state, sitting near Zoe by the couch, one hand covering his face and the other gripping his knee so tightly his knuckles are almost white.

“And the boy’s father?”

“He’s been trying to locate MC, but I don’t think we should worry about him. As for the boy, he’s much better than MC. His hearing wasn’t as affected, either. She really saved him…”

“Then again, if it hadn’t been for him, MC wouldn’t be like this in the first place.” Vivienne icily mutters, tightening her hold over her glass of wine. Nikolai and Zoe just give her a glance, too tired to pick a fight with her. “If he hadn’t rushed in recklessly-”

“He was scared, Viv.” Remy says, from somewhere in the kitchen. “He wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Vivienne’s scowl deepens. “Yes, but who runs into danger? You’d think the fire alarm would have gotten him to run the other way.”

“Someone who didn’t know there was going to be an explosion, that’s who.”

The seductress growls, a dark expression over her face, bitter frustration raging inside her like a chemical reaction about to explode. It just doesn’t make sense. Everything that boy had done that day was simply moronic, and MC – the angel she was, putting others before herself as she often did – had suffered dearly for it. The burns would leave scarring, no doubt; they had become angry red lines and spots that Vivienne mapped with a careful touch every time she had to apply the ointment the doctor had recommended. She had to watch how MC flinched at the contact, how she bit back a cry of pain, hiding it behind a shuddering smile and glistering brown eyes.

Vivienne couldn’t stop thinking about her expression. About how everything had changed, suddenly and without warning, all because of a boy. She can’t help but think about what Remy says and seethe in anger at the sheer absurdity of the boy’s actions, but she decides to stay quiet. The last thing the team needs is another fight.

Zoe speaks again after a few moments, voice soft.

“How is Jett?”

“He hasn’t left MC’s side,” Vivienne answers, after taking a deep breath. “His guilt is practically eating him alive.”

Zoe gives the couch a mournful, exhausted look, but gets to her feet nonetheless. “I’ll go check on him.”

No one blames Jett.

Ever since she had regained consciousness, MC’s sole focus had been on him. Vivienne didn’t mind. It felt relieving to walk inside her room and find them close, enjoying life, doing Art Club activities or laughing over some funny meme. Or, well, trying to. Jett’s laugh was muted, worried, tinted with sadness and regret; it was a sound that haunted Vivienne wherever she went, something that mirrored her own conflicted feelings. MC’s laugh was restrained and also wistful and a little distant. Sometimes she grimaced in the middle of it, her happiness crumbling in a burning flash of pain that made Vivienne’s heart clench and drop.

But they were trying. They were doing their best.

They would get through this. They all would.

…

Changes are inevitable. MC stands through it all like a stubborn rock holding its ground against a current, taking everything in stride. Vivienne had always found the artist fascinating, a fantastic enigma that Vivienne had foolishly thought she had cracked a long time ago.

MC always surprised her. After everything, Vivienne couldn’t help but feel awed by her. True, the first few weeks were hard, but MC had accepted her condition sooner rather than later, while Vivienne still cautiously danced around it, not sure what to think or feel or do.

MC had lost 65% percent of her hearing due to the explosion. Her left ear was slightly better, only at 50%, but the doctor had warned them she would lose more as the years went by. And while Vivienne had once again thrown herself into a bitter spiral of resentment against the boy, that damned boy, MC had pursed her lips with a determined expression and thrown herself into learning sign language and working around everything.

Everyone had agreed early on that MC couldn’t participate in heists anymore. She’d still be their forger, of course, but she’d stay with Zoe when the heist was underway.

“It’d be too dangerous,” MC had admitted, distractedly playing with the hem of her black jacket. She had this solemn look in her eyes, hollow and heavy with resignation, but it wasn’t defeated. It had this quiet intensity to it, like a volcano about to erupt; no one had dared to say anything as she explained. “I can’t even tell where sounds come from anymore, so I wouldn’t react properly to a threat.”

Vivienne couldn’t really wrap her mind around it. MC had described sounds as muted, fuzzy, distant, as if there was a giant wall of glass between her and the world, and on top of it she was underwater. Sounds simply became a cacophony in the background, nothing for MC to really pick apart. It was disorienting, at first, mostly because Vivienne hadn’t really fully processed everything yet.

Sometimes she would turn towards MC with her usual flair and dramas, all but spinning on the chair of her vanity like the typical movie villain, only to find MC engrossed on her work and not aware at all of the dramatic sigh Vivienne had delivered not two seconds ago. That was, perhaps, the biggest change. It didn’t take long for Vivienne to get used to it, no, but there had been something special in calling MC’s name from across the room and watching her reaction unfurl, be it an amused smirk or a heated stare.

MC carried on, not considering her hearing loss a disability at all. It made things different, but not impossible, something Vivienne had irrationally feared in the beginning. She loved MC and everything that entailed, be it scarring or hearing loss or grumpiness or that annoyingly stubborn personality of hers. There was no in-between, no extremes. There weren’t moments where Vivienne had loved her more or less. One day she had woken up to realize she had fallen hopelessly in love and she had never quite managed to get back up after that.

So these changes? Vivienne would accept them. Welcome them. No matter what.

…

The hearing aids helped. A bit.

MC had put them on, frowned for a second, and then beamed at Vivienne saying: “Oh, I can tell your voice apart from all the sounds now!” And that was it. No magically being able to hear everything again, no magically being able to pick apart the words. There was just a vague tone piercing a muted world, an anchor making lip-reading easier, but nothing else. Zoe had looked. Oh, how had she looked, but that was it. Everyone had accepted that. MC was just happy to her their voices again, however fuzzy they were.

Now, Vivienne could actually come sashaying into the room and call out to MC, and MC would look up and search for her – she still had a hard time telling where the sounds came from – and then roll her eyes with a fond smile at her girlfriend’s antics.

Something Vivienne had discovered about hard of hearing people: they listened. No, really. Somebody else would be distracted by something that happened around them, or would look at their phone or watch or hands or anything else before rejoining the conversation. Small things, really. MC didn’t do those anymore. Her attention was solely focused on whoever was speaking, watching their lips, interpreting their words. Or watching the signs, the body language, everything she could do to figure out what was going on and answer accordingly.

It was only at night that MC confided how difficult and exhausting and frustrating lip-reading was. The Poppy made an effort to sign, they had all gotten quite good at SSE, but sometimes they would go out and encounter somebody that didn’t know how to sign or somebody that wasn’t aware of what had happened to MC. It was all sort of situations, but MC took in stride.

“Baby?” MC’s drowsy voice cut through Vivienne’s thoughts. The pronunciation was a bit off, but charmingly so. MC had been horrified when Zoe commented on it, trying to correct it as soon as possible, but privately Vivienne didn’t really see why she worried so much over it. Her voice was beautiful no matter what. Or maybe Vivienne was just far too whipped. Hm.

She smiled against MC’s skin, feeling the heat of it call out to her like a siren’s song. She shifted a bit, so she could rest her head over MC’s chest, snuggling under the covers. It was a cold night, after all.

“Yes?” She mumbled, internally screaming in joy over the pet name. The vibration of her voice was all MC needed to know she was awake.

“I don’t think I’m up for seeing Jace tomorrow. Think we could reschedule?”

Vivienne hummed, toying with the thought. “I think so.” She finally drew the words on MC’s skin. Her fingers slid over the charred, dry zone that had been burned and she frowned a little, wondering if she should apply more ointment in the morning.

“Great.” MC said, softly. “And… we could… maybe we could watch a movie? There’s a new one that just began airing – I’ll ask Zoe for a subtitled version tomorrow.”

“Lovely.” Vivienne drew back.

“I love you.”

The little heart that was the seductress’ reply tingled in MC’s skin like invisible ink, pure and happy and warm like the first few rays of the sun, something that would linger for many days to come.

…

In the morning, as she had been doing this past month, the first thing she did when she woke up was straddle MC under her.

MC blinked owlishly, staring at her with a soft smile. She let Vivienne move over her, sighing contently at the soft touches from her lover. Vivienne made sure to stay in sight, so MC could see her lips.

With all that done, Vivienne began her worship.

Her hand cupped MC’s cheek, tracing the cheekbone down to the soft angle of her jaw, adoring. Long fingers then glided over her throat, down, down so she could move over her collarbones, one hand to the right, one to the left.

One hand slid over smooth, soft silk, while the other traveled against rough and dry edges carefully. MC’s eyes shifted at that, always hesitant over the marred skin, and Vivienne leaned down to place a kiss just above where the burns had been, as reverently as an astronaut would kiss the ground after months away from the Earth. She hovered there for a few seconds while her hand moved from MC’s shoulder to her side, finally coming to rest over her hip.

“You are beautiful.” She mouthed, leaning back. MC’s eyes flickered to her lips, catching the words, her smile stretching just a little bit more.

Vivienne continued, leaving a trail of kisses over that side, as she often did.

“These tell a story,” she said, and MC listened, brows knitted in concentration. “Of a brave woman that was too caring, and of a silly boy.”

MC starts to shake her head, aware of Vivienne’s resentment, but Vivienne is quick to place a finger over her lips to shush her.

“A silly boy,” she repeated, and for once her voice carried no venom. “That would have had a much difficult condition had that brave woman not intervened. These scars tell a story… and its outcome, filled with obstacles and changes and that one stubborn woman in the center of it all. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more determined in my entire life. But here you are, MC, here you are…”

She shudders with delight, her smile widening even more. One of her hand comes up to rest over Vivienne’s heart, to feel the vibrations of her voice.

“A warrior, an angel. You are the sun my thoughts spin around, always, forever. You came into my life and gave me a reason to become the woman I am today. You are always so optimistic, so breathtakingly beautiful, with you I-” Vivienne cut herself off, remembering to breathe, to pace herself. MC gave her a grateful nod, her expression soft with affection. “With you I feel like I might soar. You’ve taught me so much. You’ve taught me how to be accepting. To accept mistakes. To not run from them. And now, you’ve taught me the importance of not giving up. I admire you, you know?”

Vivienne looked at the scars again.

“The story these tell… It’s awe-inspiring. I’ll look at them every morning and remember how strong you are. Beautiful isn’t perfect skin and perfect hearing. It isn’t daring heists and life on the edge. Beautiful is you, are you are now.”

The kiss they share is gentle, loving, pure.

[tobealostwanderer]

Just read your latest Javi one-shot 🥵🥵 So good!!

Could I get #60 “There are plenty of people out there who love you.” “Yeah, like who?” “Like me.” with either Javi or Frankie.

Thanks so much! Off to go binge your master list!

My Comfort

Javi x GN!Reader

Thank you for the love dearest! Im glad you liked it 👀. I am sorry that this is late. Between being sick and having writersblock it wasn’t easy but here it is. I promise that I am going through everyone’s requests asap <3

Gonna go with Javi for this one 😁 I hope you enjoy this!

CW: Talk of one night stands, smoking, Javi being ooc

Colombia was harsh. Working at the Embassy was even harsher. You always looked forward to the weekend where you could go out and let loose for a night. Not worrying about Escobar, or getting gunned down. Just you in a swarm of sweaty bodies.

You usually went out with the two DEA agents, Murphy and Peña. They were good friends. Murphy's wife, Connie, sometimes came along and it was great to have another woman to talk to and drink with.

Recently you started to pick up guys from the bars you went to. One night stands. But it bugged you that not one was interesting enough to have stick around.

You felt... Lonely... Home was far away and other than your drinking buddies, you didn't really have friends. You always came home in an empty appartment, which you tried to decorate but still felt soulless, in an empty bed waiting to relive the same day, the same week, month, year. Everything was the same and everything felt so lonely.

It was another day at the bar with the agents. Steve had bought rounds this time and you were absentmindedly sipping your brightly colored cocktail. Your gaze flittered over the sea of people dancing and grinding together. For once, you didn't want to join in. Instead your mind went a thousand miles an hour, thinking about everything bad in your life. There was a lot.

"Colibrí, are you okay?" Javier asked, snapping you out of the depths of your mind. You just nodded, quickly taking another sip of the sweet drink in front of you. "I am, Javier." You said once you trusted your voice.

He looked at you a bit concerned. His beautiful brown eyes stared deep into yours and you felt exposed to him which made you shift awkwardly in your seat. He didn't notice, continuing to study you.

The moment was broken by Steve who slapped Javier on his shoulder, telling him something which Javier waved off. Steve sauntered off and Javier then turned back to you, a smirk gracing his lips.

"Wanna step outside for a smoke?" He asked, his deep voice caused redness to creep up your neck and cheeks. Sipping the last bit of the cocktail, you gave him a nod and the two of you got out of the booth and headed outside.

The nicotine rushed through you calming your nerves as smoke poured passed your lips. You were sat on the stairs next to the nightclub whilest Javier stood next to you, leaning against the wall.

"Wanna tell me what's going on in that smart head of yours?" The man asked you. You looked up to see his eyes angled down to you. You coughed slightly, looking down at a very interesting pebble.

"It's nothing, honestly. Pretty dumb actually. Don't know what you find so smart 'bout me." You answered, taking another drag of the cigarette.

"I can't judge if something's dumb or not if you don't tell me what it is, Colibrí." Javier said simply. You huffed at him, turning your head to fully look at him.

"Just... Realised how lonely I really am. I have no one who loves me here. Or likes me enough to put up with me. Every day is the same. I'm so lonely, Javier, it's crazy." You confessed. Javier frowned at you, and sat next to you, groaning as his back and knees cracked.

"Think you lie" he said simply, stubbing out his cigarette. "You are very loved."

You snorted, stubbing out your own cig. You shook your head. "I am not. Truly."

"Colibrí, truly, there are plenty of people who love you."

"Yeah, Javi? Like who? Ambassador Noonan?"

"Like me."

Your eyes widened as the two words left his lips. You stared at him with your mouth open, stammering a little as he stared off into the distance.

"..Javi?"

"Hmmm?"

"You mean that?"

"'Course"

His reply was simple but filled with emotion. His eyes finally meet yours and you desperately search them for a lie.

"I don't believe you." You whispered softly. Your mind reeled by the thought of Javier Peña liking- loving -you.

"Well... It is true... Is it that hard to believe?" He said, his eyes wide with emotions that you found hard to read.

"I mean.. You are Javier Peña.. You got your... Reputation going for you." You said to which he cursed.

"Mi Colibrí, please listen to me. You are the funniest, loveliest and kindest person I know. True, I don't... Do love... But you have shown me so much and... I like you, a lot." You saw that it was hard for him to say those words. Javier never talked about his feelings, rather drinking and fucking them out instead of talking about them.

You stayed silent for a bit and slowly, Javier raised his hand and envoloped yours. It was warm and rough from handling guns every day but it sent sparks through your body. A shuddering sigh left your lips.

“Are you sure about... this.... Whatever this is... Javi?” you asked in a whisper, giving his hand a little squeeze. He squeezed back. You were too afraid to meet his eyes so your gaze was focused on a few pebbles in front of you.

“I am sure if you are, hermosa. Let me help you. Make you feel loved. Make you feel less lonely, okay?” his words comforted you.

“I need to take it slowly, Javi. I can’t just.... do it. If we do this I can’t have this be an one night stand. I could not handle that. I need time, to trust myself.” you told him, finally meeting his beautiful eyes again. His lips were turned up in a smirk and he brings your connected hand up, kissing your knuckles.

“We will figure this out. Let’s just enjoy tonight, ‘kay? Come now, Steve will be waiting”. And with a nod, Javier pulls on your arm to have you stand up. For a moment you two stand there together. He leans in and softly kisses your forehead. He whispers sweet nothings to you, how it’s gonna be allright and that he will be right here. After a few moments, he leads you back into the club. And it feels like a new chapter of your life has started.

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