#i seriously love giving book recs please ask for more

[wormwoodandhoney]

Do you have any book suggestions for contemporary fantasy adventure stories with a focus on friendship?

you know i do! by contemporary i assume you mean set in modern times? here's what i've got. these all focus primarily on friendship and may include a small romance subplot, but mostly friends. if you want more with stronger romance subplots, or set in non-modern or fantasy worlds, hit me up, i got lots of those too:

Witchlings by Claribel A Ortega is a middle grade fantasy set in a fantasy world, but it's very modern- cell phones, etc. Also middle grade but more horror is Small Spaces by Katherine Arden, which is an incredible book I want to scream about all the time. I love middle grade but I know it's a tough sell, so I'll move on to-

Scout's Honor by Lily Anderson is about a Girl Scout-like troupe of young women fighting monsters, and how that messes them up. I also liked the author's Undead Girl Gang. These are both YA.

The Grimrose Girls by Laura Pohl is about friends at a boarding school where they find out they're cursed, tying their fates to fairy tales. Also YA.

If you're willing to go a little (or a lot) weird and slightly more literary, We Ride Upon Sticks by Quan Barry is about a girls lacrosse team in the 80s who turn to witchcraft to win their games. Not as explicitly magical as the above, but really very good. Told in first person plural ("we"), which is pretty cool. I see this shelved as YA, but it's kinda dense for YA so idk.

Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger is a YA book I'm always trying to sell- ace Indigenous teen who can see the ghosts of animals solves a murder with her ghost dog. :)

A Song Below Water by Bethany C Morrow is another magical modern world about Black sirens. Also YA.

Finally, I'm legally required to direct everyone to Seanan McGuire's beautiful novella series Wayward Children, about a school for children who have been to portal fantasy worlds and returned.

Contemporary fantasy in adult books tend to have a lot more romance, but I think VenCo by Cherie Dimaline is a pretty fun adventure about witches and the importance of sisterhood. I haven't read The Change yet, but it's on my TBR!

[bridenore]

HD prostitution fic recs

Here are a few drarry fic recs featuring Harry or Draco as a prostitute. Listed in alphabetical order, as always.

Ai by talkplaylove [18k]

Harry Potter wanders into a bar.

Another Mask Behind You by @letteredlettered [116k]

Draco is a high-end prostitute who hides his identity.  Harry unknowingly hires him.  And then there is porn, questions about identity, domestic bliss, more porn, and truth as seen through a web of lies.  (And then more porn.  Seriously, if you don’t want sex scene after sex scene you probably shouldn’t read this.  And please read the warnings.)

Coins by Inell [5k]

Coins make a certain jingling sound whenever they are tossed onto the top of a wooden bureau.

Exposure by GallaPlacidia [26k]

When Seamus uncovers Draco Malfoy’s camboy profile, he, Harry and Ron decide to anonymously book a private show so as to humiliate him later. Fascinated by Draco’s confidence, Harry keeps booking private shows under the disguise…

Self prompt: Draco is a camboy. Harry betrays him.

The First Time He Held Me by Shewhxmustnxtbenamed [11k]

Draco works for a Muggle escort service, and uses a Polyjuice potion to disguise himself when meeting clients. He’s highly desired, but not often requested because of his high prices, so it’s more of his side-hobby to bring in a little extra cash now that his parents are in jail— plus, he enjoys it. One night, he’s called to the room of the one man who he has always wanted, but could never have. Now, he needs to decide whether or not to reveal his true identity, or to remain in this polyjuiced body so that he can keep the attention of the Boy Who Lived.

“You remind me of someone,” he murmurs, tilting his head as his fingers sweep under my chin. I look up automatically and my stomach flips because I hope he’s talking about me— the real me, I mean, not this Muggle body.

“Who?” I ask, and I’m frustrated at how breathy my voice has become.

His eyebrows pull together fractionally and then they smooth out as a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth.

“Someone even more stubborn than the pair of us combined,” he says calmly, and I arch a brow.

Heart Like Neon by @lqtraintracks [41k]

Bored of being The Chosen One, Harry discovers he rather likes sex and becomes a professional. He’s good at it, and part of why is that he can read people. Not minds, not Legilimens, but their whole self, and he can give them what they don’t even know they want. Enter Draco fucking Malfoy, enigma to everyone, including himself. Harry can’t help but want to break into him, to figure him out. And Draco, thinking he’ll fuck Potter on a lark, has no idea what he’s in for.

If Sex Is the Drug, Then What Is the Cost by @eva-eleanore [3k]

For quite some time, Harry has been seeing Malfoy. Well… Actually, he’s hired Malfoy, to keep him company, in his bedroom. It’s only sex — honestly — and since Malfoy is the best, he’s the only person Harry wants. That’s all it is, right?

In The Red by @bixgirl1 [45k]

When Harry goes looking for a vampire at a Creature club, the second-to-last thing Harry expects is to find Malfoy working there.

The last thing he expects is to fall in love with him.

In Which Harry Potter Discovers a River In Egypt by Kestrel_Sparhawk [23k]

A missing roommate, a mysteriously familiar male prostitute, murdered Muggles, and an angry boss are all making life difficult for Auror Harry Potter. And that’s before he discovers that the reason he’s avoided having girlfriends for three years is not just because he doesn’t like publicity.

Kiss A Boy In London Town (And Other Intimate Misadventures of A Society Whore) by @femmequixotic [36k]

There’s only one cardinal sin for a whore.

Little Star by @ladderofyears [39k]

Ever since the end of the war Draco Malfoy has been scratching a living as a sex worker. He lives on the margins of society in squalid rooms and doesn’t imagine that his life will ever change. Then, after a couple of years, Draco becomes pregnant by an unknown client. Despite the Healers at St Mungo’s treating him with prejudice and contempt, Draco is determined to keep his baby. In his desperation, Draco approaches the wrong person and the result is disastrous. Draco is beaten up and left for dead in an alleyway. As Draco hovers between life and death, Harry Potter discovers his bruised and battered body.

The Saviour doesn’t only save Draco’s life. He takes Draco back to Grimmauld Place and helps him to recover.

Morning Mr Devil, Come Say Farewell to Your Dreams by @thisbloodycat [32k]

Nothing stays the same after a war. Except for lack of luck, that much Draco has noticed.

Paradigm by @dysonrules [57k]

Harry Potter is an Auror and Draco Malfoy is a rentboy, but this is not a typical rentboy story.

Party Poppets or ‘How Not to Fall in Love (and why you should do it anyway)’  by anon_drarry [18k]

Head Auror Potter has no idea what he’s about to get himself into when he decides to investigate the Ministry’s newly created POPPET program, and meets its star poppet - one Draco Malfoy.

Put a Price on My Soul by lamerezouille [11k]

Harry has become used to being a whore in the crapsack Wizarding World that’s now governed by Voldemort. Everything changes when Malfoy becomes his new pimp.

Railway lands by Maelipstick [65k]

Draco finds his own way to cope with being a failed Death Eater at Voldemort’s headquarters. Voldemort finds a way to destroy the wizarding world even after his death. Harry is trying to hold the world together while his mind quietly comes apart.

Warnings for graphic drug use, depression and suicidal ideation, Draco being an arsehole, sex work, criminality, non-con sexual situations, shifting POVs, ofc werewolves, self neglect and self harm, general unprettiness, unplanned parenthood and references to other works of fiction.

Soldier's Eyes by Eruditewitch [31k]

Almost six years after Voldemort falls, Harry Potter goes missing. No    one can find him, until chance would have Draco Malfoy thrust right in    his path, picking up shattered pieces while trying to keep himself together.

That Which Remains by @sitaz [2k]

Being a Junior Auror is not what Harry expected it to be. And the unregistered Veela in cell 4 does look familiar…

Things Worth Paying For by MalenkayaCherepakha [11k]

After leaving post-war Britain for Paris, Draco is finally happy, with friends and a job he loves. But then his newest client turns out to be Harry Potter, and everything changes.

Touch Me Fall by @lqtraintracks [23k]

Malfoy was such a ponce. And he was a complete snob. And he was so fucking fit Harry wanted to jump him where he sat. It would be too easy to forget his objective tonight: to really, really, really get Malfoy out of his system.

You open always (petal by petal) by birdsofshore [65k]

Harry’s not the kind of person who pays for sex. He really isn’t. Until he is.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

[llycaons]

now that I'm home, a brief summary of the new (historical) fantasy books I AM interested in. there are still nonfiction (essays, social commentary, biology) that are on my list but THIS is more my jam. putting this under a readmore but 1. if you've read any of these I'd love to hear your (non-spoilery!) opinion of them, and 2. if you have any recs based on this list, feel free to reply or send me an ask!

The Water Outlaws by S.L. Huang: if this book is bad I'm going to cry. it looks like it could be everything I've ever wanted. I love when lesbians are anti-authoritarian and I love wuxia settings. the rebel love interest has tattoos 😍

The Witch's Heart by Genevieve Gornichec: I haven't actually read much norse mythology-inspired stuff except that pjo spinoff that wasn't very good (and one set in 9th century greenland that was HORRIBLE) but this was suggested a few times and I think it looks very promising! it's always neat to see older women as protags and she's bisexual and maybe polyam as well, which I've only ever seen in baru cormorant and the broken earth iirc

The Forever Sea by Joshua Phillip Johnson: this doesn't look GREAT but I looovvee environmental fantasy so I'll give it a shot

The Night Tiger by Yangsze Choo: this one looks WILD

The Keeper of Night by Kylie Lee Baker: this one seems a little more YA than the others but the concept is pretty original so I'm curious to see what they do with it

Fireheart Tiger by Aliette de Bodard: the description made me cringe a bit but the idea is pretty cool and it seems like YA but it's marked at adult?

The Order of the Pure Moon Reflected in Water by Zen Cho: another wuxia-inspired book!!! please be good PLEASE be fucking good 😭

Black Sun by Rebecca Roanhorse: this one is sparing in the description but I have a sense it'll be VERY intense

The Emperor and the Endless Palace by Justinian Huang: I may struggle to keep focused on this one but I thought I'd check it out bc in theory it's interesting

The Black Tides of Heaven by Neon Yang: I didn't really understand the summary but it's hopefully good? I'l always check out a wuxia and I like a sibling dynamic

Deep as the Sky, Red as the Sea by Rita Chang-Eppig: PIRATES, BABY!!!!

The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov, Katherine Tiernan O'Connor (Translator), Ellendea Proffer (Annotations/Afterword), Diana Lewis Burgin (Translator), Hans Fronius (Illustrator): *points* like from tumblr...in all seriousness I HAVE heard some really interesting things about this book and the relationship so I'm glad to add it to my list

The Winged Histories by Sofia Samatar: the first book of this series sounds really boring ngl but this one oohh 👀

Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia: I heard high praise for this one so while it doesn't specifically appeal to me, I'll give it a shot

Sistersong by Lucy Holland: I like a sibling story!

Silver in the Wood by Emily Tesh: this one could touch me tenderly I feel. I like when love interests are nice. whenever I see those setups that are like 'oh he's got an OBNOXIOUS and HOT partner' I'm like well this projection isn't working for me bc I'd leave then. I don't want to be annoyed by someone I'm supposed to like. I am aware this is a big setup for CR arc of mdzs but the annoying guy is my actual younger brother and my dear dear friend wwx so he can do whatever he wants. and also lwj really does have a stick up his ass and wwx is acting significantly more normally all things considered. anyway. this gay tree man may touch my heart

books that are ALREADY on my list/I have read excerpts from already

The Mask of Mirrors by M.A. Carrick: this one is pretty YA but I enjoy the writing and the setting, and the plot is exciting. I look forward to reading more

The Watchmaker of Filigree Street by Natasha Pulley: I think my mutual suggested this to me and I tried reading it but I found it really hard to read but I am going to try it again because it sounds so intruiging!

The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi by Shannon Chakraborty: I'm on the fence bc while I liked the city of brass, I thought this one was a bit weaker so idk if I'll keep reading. I like the concept tho

The Buried Giant by Kazuo Ishiguro: this one's strange and mysterious and I love the almost primordial atmosphere of england 1000 years ago...the ancient and massive landmarks around the elderly characters as they go about their relatively small lives. kind of frightening, kind of magical

These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong: I haven't read any of this and it DOES look pretty YA but the setting sounds fun so why not

[orthopunkfox]

A Queer Book Rec (and my life story because I'm extra)

This post will be long and semi-autobiographical but I ask my friends to please bear with me as I think it will be beneficial.

I have started rereading (as a form of self care to preserve my sanity) the book Real Queer America by trans journalist and author Samantha Allen (who also currently writes for my favorite queer magazine "Them" and received a GLAAD Media award in 2018 for her work, seriously she's a hero of mine and I really hope to meet her in person one day). Real Queer America is a semi-autobiographical work about queer culture in red states and is one of the first books I read when I came out as trans. In its pages, Allen highlights the thriving queer communities that exist in hostile areas, revealing the beauty of queer culture in some of the most draconian states on record. The fact that she spends a large section of the book in Bloomington, Indiana where she met her now wife (who was studying queer porn at the Kinsey Institute at IU honestly how cool must this couple be?!) is a big bonus for my fellow Hoosiers. I've started a tradition of reading this book at least once a year and those closest to me will often hear me refer to it as my queer bible. It has loads of encouragement for f@gs like me who love our little red states and have no intention of leaving.

When I tell other queer friends that despite having spent time in both New York and LA, I choose to live 20 miles south of the house I grew up in, I’m usually met with confusion and shock. I think most people expect me to be in regular danger of being gang SAd by hillbillies in a cornfield somewhere. But the way I see it, the hills and woods and river valleys of Southern Indiana are my home. I was born here and I have just as much right to live here as anyone. Growing up in a stereotypical conservative evangelical household (I frequently heard my father brag that he voted for Reagan twice) with an healthy dash of emotional and physical abuse (my clearest earliest memory is my mother shoving me out of a dining room chair and throttling me on the ground when I was about 6), being anti LGBTQ+ was a given.

My religiously homophobic parents certainly did not ask for a queer kiddo and yet, God has a sense of humor. And so at the age of 11 when I began struggling with my gender and sexuality, I automatically and correctly assumed that I could not go to my parents for help. The things my parents discovered due to my negligence cost me dearly, threats of conversion therapy and military school from my father and more...direct physical consequences from my mother. My secret boyfriend in high school likely still wonders why I broke off communication with him so suddenly. Had he been able to see the blood dripping on my phone screen from my busted lip as my parents stood over me while I typed the message, it likely would've made things more clear.

And for a while, they succeeded in beating the queer out of me. I succumbed to their alt right rhetoric for many years for my own safety and tried to present myself as the clean cut All American Boy they wished me to be. But, like the many members of the RNC, the Grindr app hidden on my phone and the panties and nightgown in the back of my underwear drawer told the real story. Eventually, I couldn't hide anymore and reached the point where I either needed to come out or unalive myself. So I went no contact with my parents, started injecting hormones into my thigh every five days, and became the glorious trans dyke I am today.

Well that’s not entirely true, I was terrified. And proud. Terriproud? Proudified? I didn’t leave the house unless I was decked out in several pride-themed articles of clothing. Every social interaction with the cishet population was down with a determined scowl and my fist half-cocked, waiting for anyone to give me trouble. The energy expended going to the grocery store was exhausting. Then one day, I looked up and saw an entire group of people ready to embrace me, to love me for the first time in my life for who I was. A fellow trans girl I had never met gave me a ride to Indianapolis to speak out against the anti trans laws coming down the pipe. I got a job at a theatre where there was one cishet person (we called him our diversity hire). I was amazed. There is truly nothing more wonderful on all the earth than queer community. Never before have I seen a group more thoroughly and solidly perform Christ's command to love one another. I found here in southern and central Indiana some beautiful people who help each other get through this ridiculously difficult life, indeed who DO LIFE together, who truly LIVE together. It was amazing!

Even more fascinating to me was beginning to read LGBTQ+ history and finding out it has pretty much always been this way! Through the decades of living in the shadows of history, to the gay liberation movement and Stonewall, through all of it, different outside groups have come and gone. Various religious groups have embraced and rejected LGBTQ+ people, many political candidates have made hollow promises or delivered only half of what they said they would, many people let us down. But we've always had each other.

If you've read my ramblings this far, thank you. And I'd like to get to my point now. We will never have it easy. By definition of being queer, we will always exist outside the norm. And those who want everyone to fall in line will use every tool at their disposal to make that happen. Religious rhetoric. Rule of law. Political grandstanding. Even physical violence. Why? Because they're afraid of us. Having spent years around alt right men, one thing they're fond of saying is "I'm not homophobic cuz I'm not afraid of f@ggots." Bullshit. They're terrified of us. And that’s badass.

So in this time of uncertainty, I want to encourage all of my queer friends all over the US to band together, put pet political idealism aside, and unite for the safety of all of our siblings. 2024 isn't the end of us. It isn't the end of our fight. Scarier people than Trump will rise. Our rights may be taken away. We may indeed go back to the 50s or (God save us) 1939 Germany. But our queer fore-parents lived through those times, and they didn't let that stop them. They forged and hacked out spaces for themselves, they picked a spot, planted themselves in it and DEMANDED to be recognized for who they were. And when those who hated them came and tried to remove them by force, they banded together and fought with bricks and handbags and lunch trays and high heeled shoes. When the first Stonewall riot broke out, Sylvia Rivera, that trans foremother who was dubbed the Rosa Parks of the transgender liberation movement, was told by a friend to stay inside, she responded “I’m not missing a minute of this! It’s the revolution!” Let us carry her spirit with us as we move forward, whatever happens in November. We will always have each other. We will always be here, we will always be queer, whether people get used to it or not.

[berryunho]

hii a longg while back I had sent a long ask about how much I enjoyed the answer and had asked about what other cults/writing/media had inspired you when developing the storyline and its characters. In your response you had recommended a list of books that you enjoy/inspire you and I just wanted to share that I bought two of the books you recommended:) The Secret History by Donna Tartt and The Long Walk by Stephen King. It was so exciting and I thought of you as soon as I saw them at Barnes and Noble lol. It meant so much that you replied and recommended some great books because I really do enjoy your work and reading about how you come up with stuff when you write. This is so silly but I got so excited and wanted to tell you haha. You inspired me to start my book collection!! If you have any more recommendations please feel free to share if you would like🫶 I hope you have a great weekend!

OMG!!!!!!! im literally honored seriously this is so awesome !!! i really hope you enjoy the books and pls lmk what you think after you read them :] im actually touched for real thinking about you thinking about me hehehe <33 putting a read more before more recs !!! hehe

im gonna be so real with you i REMEMBER answering your ask and i remember giving some recs but i have scoured my blog (as well as i can w tumblrs shitty search mechanism) and i cannot find it to save my LIFEEEE so ill give some more recommendations but pls forgive me if i repeat a couple bc i cannot remember ... what i said ... LOLLL

so in no particular order here are some more books !! hehe

a canticle for liebowitz by walter miller jr (this book is from 1959 but its actually so funny and the vibes are immaculate)

the langoliers by stephen king (technically a novella but tell me why i have an urge to write an au like this LMAO)

giovanni's room by james baldwin (not like other books i recommend but very good)

chaos by tom o'neill (if you feel like learning about charles manson and the corruptness of the us government)

people who eat darkness by richard parry (if you feel like learning about a japanese serial rapist)

(this one is controversial but. we're adults.) a mother's reckoning by sue klebold (if you feel like learning about the columbine school shooting from one of the shooters' mothers' perspectives)

i probably recommended this BUT if you find yourself really liking stephen king (or even moderately liking him lol) i would. H I G H L Y highly recommend the dark tower series. it is amazing and incredible and i loved every second i spent reading it.

im gonna be so honest rn. i read the entire acotar series. do i think they're good books. no. but did i enjoy reading them and laughing at sarah j maas's writing style. yes. so [shrug].

and to finish i am currently reading dune (like everyone else) and its quite good along with a clash of kings which is. game of thrones. so. hard to read but fun.

but yeah !!!! thank you so much for thinking of me and taking my recommendations hehe it really means a lot !! like i said pls lmk what you think of the two that you got bc those are truly some of my favorite books ever :] <3

[fangirlies]

Hi, bestie!! I'm here :^)

Shit, sorry!! I didn't think this whole ask thing through... for some reason I thought it'd be better to not flood with asks and united them😥 my bad!

But I'm so happy that you're doing good with the move and that you're finding your peace at a new place! That's all you can ask for. Starting a nee chapter is always so hard, but also so rewarding, I wish this place to bring you comfort, exciting experience and good memories to cherish in the future💜 Hope decorating and brining out the character goes smoothly! Live your best life, bestie!!

And thank you for spending time and answering my silly thoughts in such details. I hope I don't bother you with them, please don't feel pressured that you need to write them all! I love and adore everything that you write (btw, I'm also that recent jealous xavi anon), it is so beautifully done and idk, like a comfort blanket around me, you just have that writing style! Also, your mind is sexy😏 But I know you said that you're a bit in a slump right now and I hope I don't bother or pressure you with these prompts, I want you to be comfortable.

I like talking to you! You're so funny and nice💜 damn, I don't know what to tell about myself... this new year I made a lot of resolutions, but all I'm fulfilling is a part of watching more movies💀 because watching movies/shows is rather hard for me, especially alone. I get distracted and bored easily, so I need some kind of connection to the thing I want to watch to finish it (i have so many shows that I abandonedj. And me hyperfixating on one thing for a long period of time really doesn't help me to get engrossed in something new. I don't why it's like that and how to explain it properly😂 but, yeah, at least I'm doing this, bit I wish I rather read more books... do you have movie or books recommendations? What type of movies and books do you like?

I don't know how to distinct myself, except saying that I'm Elliot anon😂 maybe you could give me a nickname, however being Elliot anon is also nice!

My sweet anon! I’ve missed you (I’m clingy)

It’s completely fine! I wasn’t going to write something for it at first because you described it so well but I pictured it perfectly in my head and decided to roll with it. And then I wanted to answer your question so I separated it bc again, I’m a freak who wanted to give you a detailed answer.

You’re SO right about new chapters being challenging but rewarding. Many people can’t say they love change and I’m not one of them. I love to change things every so often, it gives me something to look forward to. Thank you for your kindhearted wishes! 🫶🏻

Please never feel like you bother me with your thoughts. It’s always fun to write short little blurbs that I can’t make into a whole fic. I love simple and innocent moments like the last one I wrote out. Thank you for enjoying anything I put out there! It truly means so much to me, you have no idea. Trust me, being on tumblr and talking to you guys makes me smile! Each and every one of you hold a special place in my heart.

I thought I was the only one who couldn’t sit through a whole movie!! This felt comforting lol. And the part about needing a connection to a movie/show, I used to not continue watching things if there wasn’t a cute guy to obsess over 🫣 reading books isn’t for everyone just like watching movies isn’t for us lol! Maybe you just haven’t found one you’re extremely into! Not all resolutions can be fulfilled but luckily we’re only in March! Who knows what other one you can scratch off your list! I’m rooting for uuu<3 Unfortunately I have no movie recs but for books- I’m a poetry lover!! When I get my bookshelf I’ll share my collection with you guys but for now Reyna Biddy has changed my life! She seriously puts emotions into perfect words. So if you’d like to search her up on ig just to get a feel for some of her work her @ is reynabiddy!

I love your Elliot anon nick name but if you’d like to pick an emoji and sign off on all your anon asks, you’re more than welcome to! I only have 🍓 taken. The rest is yours to choose from my sweet anon!

[shirajellyfish]

AAaaaah thank you so, so much! I am soaking up this post like a flower soaking up water. I am cherishing it like Lune cherishes the tricky triangle puzzle. I am hugging it infinitely forever.

Before I get to more in depth responses, you asked for fic recs!

Let’s seeee... Sunspots Craters and Mortal things is my absolute top recommendation for a fanfic more people need to read.

In addition to that, in no particular order- What is it called when light hits a prisim, long road ahead, like clockwork, you move to dayshift but aren’t paid any more go figure, call of the abyss, red sky, call of the abyss, there are many benefits (to rethinking this career path), so(u)l, cryptid sightings, late night to early morning (ok this one doesn’t update anymore but I still love it with my entire heart), and probably more if I sat here and thought a while. These would be my top recommendations though!

Now for more thoughts

Oh no, I’m here in thought land, but now I don’t know what to say! Other than thank you but a second time! A third time! An 87th time, even! It makes me so, so beyond happy that you enjoyed my fanfic so much.

I was surprised how many people were worried the story would have a sad ending! I’m too weak for that, I’d break my own heart if I wrote THAT MANY words only to end it on a downer. The story was always going to have a happy ending, but the characters had to be put to the test first! I wanted it all to feel worth it, every moment and lesson. All of it necessary to take down the biggest challenge.

(Though I also think it’s funny how often I saw “surely this must be rock bottom” on chapters near the end only to say “oh no, it gets worse :)” haha)

Go ahead and headcanon Riley as you please! I didn’t have any specific flavor of neurodivergence in mind when I wrote them, but I was writing them like “yeah this character has to be some flavor of something“ haha. Plus I’m autistic myself, and I think that leaks into my writing in places. Feel free to think of them as autistic or any other flavor of brain difference that you feel fits them.

I’m so glad you appreciate the nonbinary aspect! That was one of the first character traits I had in mind for them, other than “asks all the questions about robots that I want to see answered.” After reading so many Y/N fics, I knew that I really wanted a character who was specifically nonbinary instead of just insert your gender here. It makes me happy to see how many people ended up relating to that aspect of their character, and their troubles trying to navigate their identity.

My gosh, that’s high praise you’re giving me! Oh no, it’s too many compliment! I’ve been crushed flat under the kind words you’re sending me, aaaaaaa

Seriously, again, thank you so much. That means more to me than I can express.

(Funny thing, I’ve always wanted to write an actual book. Couldn’t manage to stick with a story though. Not until I was hit with the jester brainrot sledgehammer and suddenly it was like “what if I wrote 4 books actually. What if I wrote 4 book lengths but it was in fact all one book.” Maybe some day I will be able to write that much about something that isn’t funny robot jesters. Maybe.)

And aaaah you topped all of that off with ART?!?!?! I am exploding. I am exploded. Nothing remains of me except tiny heart-shaped debris.

I love how whimsical the patterns on him look, even as he hides in embarrassment. He looks so precious and I love it so much!!! I love this entire post so much, I am eating it, no one can stop me

Thank you thank you thank you

Well

I finally finished I See You, Sundrop! by @shirajellyfish

Slight spoily warning!

It is 1:14 in the morning as I write this (editing about a day later) and I have my first day of my senior year of high school tomorrow, but I just had to get all of my thoughts out while they were fresh.

I have never, never hyperfixated on a fanfic so hard. I've never read 400k+ words of a single fic in under a week. Somehow I managed to do that and have time to draw fanart (something I'm pretty sure I've only done once before for a fic, actually) and do my irl life shit.

How, you may ask? By continuously staying up into the wee hours of the morning :D (like 4-6am type shit, don't recommend it even if I think it was personally worth it).

I think I was so hyperfixated on the fic that I honestly didn't absorb the emotions like I should have? I felt things, surprise, excitement, a Sense of Impending Doom (/hj), but I don't think I really felt them.

I was probably a little more dissociated while reading than I usually am lol. I was so absorbed that some things barely registered. I am 100% going to have to re-read everything.

At one point I worried the fic wouldn't have a happy ending. Doesn't have the "angst with a happy ending" tag afaik and it got much worse before it got better. Saw a comment on one of the end notes and was reassured thankfully TvT. I'm very happy everyone is ok.

Love how the after ending note basically boiled down to "everyone is fine and Felix finally got some sleep" lol.

This fic was just. So good. Riley is such a dynamic character, so awesome and so cool. I really want to headcanon them as autistic (some of their behaviors just. They just. It's hard to explain, but if you're autistic too I bet you probably felt it, just a lil. They got the vibes /hj) but I know some authors can be kinda iffy about people headcanoning their OCs (which I get).

It was really cool to see an honest to goodness nonbinary character, a full character and not a self insert or y/n (no shade, I love y/n stories too). It was just cool to see a complete OC, and I love that it was all platonic, even if Sundrop did catch a little bit of feelings.

Honestly I relate so much to that, as someone who gains and loses crushes pretty fast. I'm happy it stayed platonic though and Sunny wasn't hurt or stuck pining or something silly. Plus his absolute embarrassment and mortification at his slip up was pretty funny. Might try to draw it, if I have any left over motivation (the bottom of this post sure is interesting hint hint).

Update as I'm editing this about a day later: I can't stop thinking about this fic. It was just so good! I already want to re-read it but I know I should give it at least a little time so I don't burn myself out. This fic was probably the best story I've ever read. Period. Even better than the published books I've read.

Honestly without spoiling any more than I already have, read it. If you like the DCA, read it. If you like cool nonbinary characters and great platonic relationships, read it. If you like a plot that sneaks up on you before hitting you in the feels like a truck, read. It. Do it. It's sososo worth it, I promise you.

If anyone has some good fics to read (completed preferred but actively updated ones work too) PLEASE FEED ME. Now that I'm done with ISYS I am desperate for more DCA fics. I've read so many and I n e e d m o r e.

Bonus fanart to celebrate my completion I guess(?), embarrassed Sun boy!

I guess I just really like drawing embarrassed boyos. Sorry if it looks weird, I've never drawn a pose like this before :P

Shira if you're reading this, thank you. Your fic was just fantastic. Also thank you for helping me get out of my art block! I had it for the whole month of ArtFight (sadge) but I'm so happy to have some motivation again. Thank you.

[sourmiguel]

So When Do I Get To Pledge My Loyalty To the Mob? by RedRidingStiles (wc10089, mature)

Summary: “Are you my sugar daddy?” Stiles blurts out, slapping a hand over his mouth when his brain catches up to his mouth. The man lets out a soft laugh, making his way around the couch till he’s standing just feet away from Stiles. Stiles can smell his cologne from here, it smells heavenly, Stiles kinda wants to bury his face into the guy's chest so he can figure out exactly what it is. “If that’s what you’d like to call it.” The man smiles, Stiles doesn’t think he should be allowed to smile like that. All soft and gorgeous and way too pretty to be legal. He’s still not convinced any of this is real. Stiles loses his wallet, someone returns it along with $5,000. Shit keeps coming, Stiles life doesn't make any sense anymore, he's just going with it.

This is so fun! Secret, mystery sugar daddy fic. Stiles gets so spoiled, and you know what? He deserves it. So does Derek.

*Double Rec Incoming!* Two fics for the price of one!

A Love Like Religion by @doctortay (wc10696, explicit)

Summary: “Derek, my man, you missed an epic party on Saturday. Seriously, dude, I know morning Mass is like, your thing, but come on. You’re missing on out so much life has to offer, bro.” Big hands land on shoulders with a thump and a squeeze while Derek stands at his locker, loading his gigantic calculus book into his backpack. He gives his best friend a practiced sidelong glare, which of course just encourages him. “You’ll change your mind when I tell you who sucked me off in Lydia Martin’s bedroom,” Stiles snickers into his ear.  Despite himself, Derek is curious. He tries to hide it by focusing on his books, but he knows the heat in his cheeks betrays him. “Who,” he asks, giving in, knowing he will eventually.

Ugh I'm a sucker for BFF High School AUs. Like, seriously. This is the best.

*But wait, there's more!* One more short one, just for you!

sincerely, derek by @stileshale (wc8176, mature)

Summary: September, 2009 Hi Stiles, it’s Derek. Derek Hale, from space camp. I’m writing this in English because my teacher Ms Grady said I had to write about my summer, but I spent my summer with you, so I decided to write to you, instead. Please write back. Love from Derek.

Omg Space Camp Nerd Pen Pals?! Yes. All the yes. so good. Go read it.

[erodasfishtacos]

HSLOT HOUSTON

Okay, I’m actually so happy with this one. Come talk about it with me in my inbox! 😌

warning: smut

please like, comment, share, rec!

🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠

It was a bit of a shock, well a lot of a shock when YN is scrolling through her instagram time and it becomes flooded with a gif of her husband passionately kissing a gorgeous blonde.

The trailer for Don’t Worry Darling had dropped out of nowhere and now there was a nasty feeling on jealously, insecurity, and possessiveness in the pit of her stomach.

She knew it was irrational, they were married for fucks sake, but those emotions weren’t always rational.

YN watched it, over and over, until she tossed her phone onto the side table hard enough that it slides off and falls harshly on the ground.

Harry and crew were downstairs, it didn’t look like the Houston show was going to happen because of the storm.

She felts ridiculous and immature for the tears welling up in her eyes. It’s not like she was upset or mad at him.

She was proud of him for his acting abilities and all of his hard work - that’s why she was mad at herself right now.

YN knows Harry is expecting her downstairs to help figure out details, what to do for the fans, etc.. because she was a major part of the production crew.

But she nearly felt like she was going to throw up.

Could you blame her?

Who on earth would want to see their significant other making out passionately for the world to swoon over?

YN scrubs the tears from her cheeks, hadn’t even realized they were falling.

She does the worst thing ever, pulls it back up and starts ready comments, especially from their friends - it almost felt like betrayal. Jeff, Glenne, Lambert, Gemma.

A message appears at the top of the screen.

Bunny 🐰: come on darling, need you down here. meeting is about to start ���

Her fingers hesitate.

yn: be down in five

Bunny 🐰: is everything okay? where’s my kiss? 😗😗😗😗😗😗😗😗😗😗

She sighs, she feels bad because it’s not his fault.

He had been offered the role, came home and instantly told his wife that if she wasn’t comfortable with him having romantic scenes - he’d turn it down.

YN wasn’t like that.

When she was being logically she would never want to stand in the way of Harry persuing his dreams.

It was acting and she had even been on set a few times when there were heated scenes but it just felt different - uncomfortable.

YN throws one of the bunny merch hoodies, a pair of cropped leggings, and black nikes before heading down from their suite to the conference room.

Harry had purposefully kept the seat open for her, right next to him, and she slips into quietly as they continue to talk.

There were a lot of higher ups in the room, from the venue, the touring company, his team - deciding on what they should do about the weather warning.

He instantly tugs her as close of possible to him with a long arm wrapped around her shoulder and a subtle kiss to the side of her head.

They’re talking about the people standing outside in the rain for GA, they all get quiet, and Harry nudges his wife, “Darling, they’re talking t’you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Can you repeat the question?” YN asks, eyes a bit wide in embarrassment at all the stares on her face.

A venue manager speaks up, “How do you think the fans will react and how can we ensure them of another show here. We do not want to lose the business of this concert.”

“Obviously upset. People have flown in for the concert - so maybe if you reach out to some of those fans and reimbursement their flights, they’d be more likely to come back and that would look good on you guys,” YN offers, tense and trying to ignore Harry’s concerned expression - he could always tell.

“Jamie, get on that,” The man orders with an executive nod that he liked the idea and Harry squeezes her shoulder lovingly.

The meeting goes on, she would normally wait for Harry to wade through all the people wanting to speak to him but she zips through the maze of bodies and back down the corridor to the elevator.

She about there when she hears someone running to catch up with her, knows exactly who it is when he pulls her back into his strong chest.

“Wha’s wrong?” Her husband murmurs in her ear, lips brushing softly and his arms keeping her as close as possible.

“It’s nothing, I just need some time alone,” YN sighs, stepping out of his warm embrace and turning to face him.

“Did I do somethin’? Baby, c’mon,” He coaxes, frowning as he studies her face, “Talk t’me, please.”

“I’m just - I’m being dumb,” She chuckles with no humor in her tone, tears welling again and she is quick to cover her face in her sleeve because fans are being to notice them.

“Okay, okay. Let’s get y���upstairs,” Harry replies, guiding her towards the elevator and throwing his arm around her to block her - it would look playful in the fan photos.

The crowd gets irritated when Harry refuses to stop and sign things, take pictures but his bodyguards quickly block them from getting to close.

Once in the elevator, alone, Harry cups her face gently, “Baby, y’gotta tell me what’s going on, m’confused.”

“The trailer, it came out and -“

Harry is perplexed for a moment, “Is that why everyone’s blowing up m’phone?”

Then he’s pulling it out, swiping a few times, and the short ten-second trailer is playing across his screen and he knows instantly.

“Sweetheart,” He sighs, tucking it back into his pocket, “M’sorry-“

“No, no. Don’t apologize,” YN interrupts him, eyes frantic as she speaks, “I’m not - It’s not your fault. I just wasn’t expecting it and it threw me off. I am so proud of you -“

“But y’a bit jealous, huh?” Harry smirks, rubbing his thumb against her bottom lip lightly, tugging to tease a bit.

“You’re my husband. Of course, I don’t want to see you do that with anyone else,” YN replies, watching as her husbands eyes meld into something fiery and golden.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He asks, voice deepening into what YN likes to call his sex voice and it really does work - makes her stomach flip.

“Harry, you don’t have to try to make me feel better. I’m re-“

Harry hits the red stop button on elevator, pausing the movement - it was a single elevator to the penthouse so it wasn’t effecting the rest of the hotel guests.

“Let me tell you a secret. The day we had to film tha’ scene, when I had to kiss someone who wasn’t you over and over again. When I had to act like I would fuck someone other than you,” Harry’s teeth are grazing her jugular dangerously, his breathe minty and cool, “You remember that one night on the balcony?”

“Mm,” YN agrees shakily, she remembers that night a few months ago well.

-

Harry had come home from set with a mission.

He hadn’t disclosed what happened that day and YN had completely forgotten to ask later on.

When he stormed through their master bedroom and swung open the balcony doors, his eyes fall hungrily on his wife who’s reading a book on their balcony. ***

Her skin was glowing on the dim fairy lights and reflection of the moon, it was late- nearly midnight when he’d finally gotten home.

She was lounging on the sofa, sprawled in a silk pajama set that was simple but so sexy in the way her natural breasts lay without a bra - nipples poking at the fabric.

It had only taken him a moment, he’d been hard the whole ride home thinking about his wife, and when he saw that, he was striding over and murmuring, “You know your safe words, right baby?”

-

It was him eating her out hungrily, ridding her of her clothes and him still fully dressed as he nipped and sucked at her clit.

-

Then he had bent her over the balcony railing, overlooking the Hollywood hills where surely their neighbors could have seen if they squinted.

His fingers were digging harshly into her backside, thrusting and having her tits sway with the force as he praised her on how well she took it.

-

And it ended with back on the couch, her legs soaked from her multiple releases, skin smattered in bruises and love bites, and Harry kissing her roughly as he pinched her clit and released inside her.

-

“The reason I wrecked y’tha’ night was because doing all that shit on set made me want to come straight home to m’wife,” Harry whispers like there’s other people in the elevator with them.

“Harry,” She mutters shyly, avoiding eye contact and looking down to the marble floor.

“No, look at me, baby. All I could think about were how much better your mouth feels, how no one can ever compare to how fuckin’ sexy y’are,” He rumbles, his hand is slipping underneath her hoodie and palming at her belly.

“Love you,” YN replies, reaching up to press their lips together and whine when his tongue automatically finds it way into her mouth.

“Been with you since I was fifteen. Y’know tha’? There’s a reason for that, s’because nobody gets to me like you do. You always make me crave more. The reason I put that rock on y’finger and y’name on m’bank account.”

“Bunny, please.”

Harry smirks against her lips, “Please what?”

“Fuck me, c’mon,” She begs desperately, his hand teasing at the waistband of her leggings but not giving her anything.

“Gotta give it t’you when you ask, s’my husbandly duty,” Harry kisses her again, hands moving to tug them down.

“Yes, be a good husband,” She scolds, getting on her tiptoes out of instinct as he slips two fingers up into her.

“M’tryin’,” He gruffs, hissing at how wet she is for him as he curls his fingers towards the front her wall to hit her spot, “Only one f’me. Never want anyone else, been an love-struck idiot for you since I was fifteen.”

-

After they finish, Harry presses the button to restart the elevator and they’re both panting, with a light sheen on sweat.

When they step into the foyer of the penthouse, Harry cups her face and makes sure he has her full attention.

“I love you. If this movie or me acting with other people romantically is too much for you. Please tel me, m’job is never more important than m’marriage,” He says seriously, face still splotchy from coming in the sticky, hot elevator.

She shakes her head, “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable - well, not when I’m thinking logically. I’m proud of you, I can’t wait to see the movie.”

“I love y’so much, sunflower. Y’my soulmate, the reason I have the courage and confidence is because of you.”

[mylordshesacactus]

okay you know what, while I’m complaining about things on the internet: the way people generally handle book recs on this site is.....bad.

Do you KNOW how many posts ostensibly serving as “rec lists” I’ve seen that are basically just....representation checklists? “Here’s a list of books with LGBT protagonists!” “Here’s a list of books by Black authors!”

[id: “Ah, great! What is it.” gif.]

You gonna tell me what any of these twenty books are, like, about?

The format is a) annoying b) unhelpful and c) doing an active disservice to books you’re clearly trying to get other people to read, but rather more importantly...

d) Reducing the entire concept of literally any book not by white authors about cishet white protagonists down to “basically interchangeable, right?” is not nearly as progressive as you seem to think it is. And yes, many of the book recs are a little more specific--”Here’s a list of fantasy books by Black authors!” “Here’s a list of sci-fi books with trans characters!” but you are all still badly missing the point of a RECOMMENDATION post.

I am ALL FOR making big long lists of great, diverse book recs! But for god’s sake--y’all have GOT to start actually reccing the BOOK instead of the only information provided being “Has a lesbian protagonist!!!” That is not a book rec. It’s just not. It doesn’t tell me ANYTHING I need to know! The very, very best book rec posts I’ve ever seen deign to include things like major trigger warnings, and even that I’ve only seen like, twice.

Please, for the love of god, if you’re making a book rec list, actually rec the BOOKS and not just whatever #representation they have. That means, at the VERY LEAST, including the:

Genre.

GENRE.

What the book is like, about.

The TONE.

If at all possible, the narrative style.

Please note that by “genre” I don’t just mean “But Jo, I did include the genre! I said this was a list of fantasy novels!” That’s nice.

Lord of the Rings is fantasy. So is Percy Jackson. What genre is the fucking book.

Genre: Is it high fantasy? Portal fantasy? Modern mythology? Is it military sci-fi? Is it hard sci-fi, heavy on technical details? Within the sci-fi or fantasy genre--is it a coming-of-age story? Is it a mystery? Is it a political thriller? A gunslinging adventure? A survival story? A magic-academy setting? 

Seriously, Are You Planning To Tell Me What The Book You’re Ostensibly Recommending To Me Is, Like, About? I’m not asking for spoilers. Lord of the Rings is about a young man named Frodo Baggins, the gently-raised nephew and heir of a respected gentleman farmer in the quiet fantasy-British-countryside. When his uncle mysteriously announces that he’s leaving and then disappears at his own birthday party, events are set in motion that leave the rather naive young Frodo in possession of a powerful, deadly artifact--and the Dark Lord who created it has already sent his most powerful servants to reclaim it. 

Boom. Done. Tell me SOMETHING that actually helps me decide whether this is something that I might want to look more into. Are the characters thirty or thirteen? Are they members of ruling houses, or farmers, or space smugglers, or pirates, or Navy officers, or what?

The TONE OF THE BOOK dear CHRIST. I have seen, on actual book rec lists, incredibly hard-hitting, grim, brutal novels presented next to generally-lighthearted, PG modern fantasy. And that’s great! Different things appeal to different people, and tone and genre and content do not dictate one another. But like, tone-wise--is this Star Trek: TOS, or Battlestar Galactica? Is this Return of the Jedi, or Revenge of the Sith? Is this mystery a noir novel, or a Scooby Doo episode? 

I need to know that to know whether I’m interested! If I go in looking for a serious, high-concept, flowery medieval fantasy and you give me Discworld, I’m going to come away unsatisfied even if I would otherwise love Discworld.

Narrative Style: If there’s something interesting about the way the story is told, and you’re trying to pique the interest of a crowd of strangers...maybe like, mention that! Share an excerpt of a particularly representative line, preferably from early in the book!

I saw Gideon the Ninth on SO MANY rec posts and was never interested in the slightest...because it was never presented as more than “Lesbian necromancers in space! What more could you want?!” Well, some fucking information about anything else in the book, for one. My partner got it and started quoting me non-spoiler segments, and the writing style was so DELIGHTFUL, and Gideon’s narration and perspective so much fun, that I devoured the entire book in like three hours.

If you want people to read the books you recommend, you have to tell us things about them.

[bkdk-all-day-err-day]

My bkdk ao3 recs of the week!

These fics were too good to not share so here goes! [Note: All these works are either one-shots or completed multi-chapter fics!]

First Son by ChromaKi:

Gonna start with the fluffiest one. This is just all around feel-good diabetes-inducing domestic bkdk fluff. Very adorable and super sweet ending.

2. Procrastination by @capncapnk:

This is somewhat fluffy with a good dose of smut. Good read if you like the "FWB to something more" dynamic. The "Can I kiss you?" really got me. Would love to see a sequel for this.

3. missed connections by gravitates:

Ah, hello angst my old friend. The pining in this one is downright sadistic but it hurts so good. Beautifully characterized. Don't worry, there's an eventual happy ending but you definitely suffer along the way.

4. dry your smoke-stung eyes by gravitates:

I had to include another one by gravitates who does the quirkless!Izuku and Katsuki dynamic SO WELL. This one hit pretty close to home for me personally because I've been there, watching painfully from the sidelines.

“Maybe I should just be a friend, Kacchan,” he threatens, sounding so foreign even to himself, “because at least friends get to sit with you at lunch. Friends get to talk to you in school. Friends get to make you laugh without being afraid of giving anything away.”

like gd can you try not to rip me apart with that? ;-; but in all seriousness, very delicately and beautifully written. Another "Angst with a Happy Ending" for the books, but so well-deserved.

5. bite the hand by moonwall:

This might be one of my fave AU concepts ever. I'm also generally just a sucker for multiverse/parallel worldlines (prolly why Stein's;gate is one of my fave anime of all time) so this one definitely hits that sweet spot. The writing itself is so mystical and hypnotizing and downright heartbreaking at various points. I cried at multiple points but it was definitely worth the ride. I highly recommend this one for the world-building, characterization, literary skills, and overall relationship development between bkdk.

Placing the last rec under the cut due to sensitive content!

6. Unfiltered by UnderWickedSky:

READ ALL THE TAGS AND WARNINGS BEFORE YOU PROCEED.

Well? Sure you can handle it? If so, you're definitely in for a crazy, twisted ride. When I started this one on a whim a couple of days ago I did not expect to get so hooked onto the concept of yandere!Deku keeping Kacchan in his basement to...take care of him, but if you're able to stomach the disturbing themes, it's actually amazingly written. You can almost believe this version of the characters as strangely true to themselves, were they ever thrown in such a situation. The smut scenes are top-tier and the ending is actually quite satisfactory IMO. I don't wanna give too much away but I definitely recommend this for those that are down for this kind of content.

...And that's all for now! Please drop me your own recs in comments/DMs/Ask-box! <3

[delicioussshame]

I had this reverse love potion fic idea that would be all angst no plot and I don’t want to write it, so have some notfic.

One day, SQQ wakes up by LBH’s side and feels… nothing? Maybe a vague sense of discomfiture being in bed with a man? He’s not amnesic or anything, so he knows there is nothing wrong with sharing a bed with Luo Binghe, but it doesn’t feel right. He tries to work through it, to go on with his life like this is normal, but he has no actual desire to, and he feels like it’s reciprocated? Like, LBH is evading him, which is highly unusual. So when LBH breaks and asks SQQ if he feels different, they talk and discover they don’t love each other anymore. It’s like the switch has been turned off. They both can tell it’s not normal, that it has to have been some form of attack. SQQ figures it’s one of LBH’s supposed wives trying to break them up. He knows he should be more upset than he is, but when he thinks back to his relationship it’s like watching a movie. It has nothing to do with him. Hey, maybe it’s a chance to set the plot back into something like what was supposed to happen? SQQ could just be another peak lord, LBH could lead his realm, it’d be fine.

Luo Binghe takes it a bit harder because he’s very self-motivated, and even if he’s not in love with SQQ anymore he can remember how happy he was with his teacher as a husband. It’s nothing he wants right now, but he knows he would be pleased to get it back again.

Still, even he cannot deal with the current awkwardness of faking domestic bliss with someone he doesn’t feel anything special for, so they decide that LBH will return to the demon realm for now, and that they’ll each look for ways to reverse the situation by themselves, by which they both know LBH will and SQQ will open a book when he feels like it.

LBH does start up chasing every lead, but he’s fighting a losing war. Every single person from his realm he speaks to agree that this is the greatest thing that could ever happen to him. He’s finally detached from the peak lord! Maybe he can take his job seriously now! And marry, oh, a couple hundreds demonesses, that’d be nice.

SQQ lives a pretty similar setting. His fellow peak lords aren’t exactly LBH’s biggest fans, and maybe some of them are thinking this is a godsend.

The main difference I think is that as time passes, I think SQQ would become lonely. From the moment he came to this world up to that fateful morning, his life pretty much revolved around LBH? Now that the main plot is completed, without LBH around, it’s kind of dull. And hey, since he’s got nothing better to do, why not focus on researching a cure? So he puts more time on this.

Meanwhile, I think LBH would become more and more focused on ruling his realm, since he’s very driven and doesn’t really have SQQ as a focus anymore, so the quest would fall to the side after a while.

Still, a very ambitious demon decided he’d find the cure years ago, because while everyone else is trying to a get a pretty uninterested LBH to look at them twice, this demon knows for a fact that if he gives LBH the only one he ever loved back, he’d instantly be rewarded so richly his life would be made. So he works at it, and one day shows up with something sus and is like “this is it!”

LBH is quite suspicious at first and asks everyone with any knowledge on the matter to make sure he won’t be poisoned, but he’s immune to poison so everyone is like *shrug* you should go for it. So he does, immediately starts crying because all the time he wasted being away from his shizun, the love of his life! Why! Why didn’t he search for this without rest! So anyway, he takes the thing and has MBJ teleport him to SQQ’s side, who, again, is now more open to the idea because he’s missing something he can’t understand. He takes it, they both cry, everyone else also does for a different reason, the random demon is so promoted it’s not even funny, and together SQQ and LBH go on a hunt to find out who, exactly, was this fucking reckless with their own life that they thought trying to keep them apart would be a good idea.

This woman spends the rest of her very short life regretting it.

The end.

[lost-inthedream]

Gold-filled or made of gold

An alternative universe with CEO! Dawon x COO! female reader

Part I - your office

Part II - Meeting room I love 00's aesthetic so, please, imagine a projector showing a PowerPoint presentation.

Genre: suggestive

Warnings: semi-public making out, mentions of sex, hair pulling, curse words. Plus, the reader has some insecurities regarding the relationship but nothing really angst.

Words: 1,3k

Bonus song rec: INVU, by Taeyeon

Nobody could affirm the project was going terribly but to be realistic, it should have been showing better results at this point. Dawon, of course, was aware of the progress, therefore he required you to set a project status meeting. That was the moment you realized that for the first time in a year, you stopped looking at the CEO as you were less than him. In fact, the idea of being the chief operations officer implied you were Sanhyuk's right arm but you used to ignore it. You definitely were not someone he could control but you used to feel a small prey in contrast with the man he was. He knew that company as the palm of his hands, plus the chairman did not save complements towards him. You were just trying to prove your competence day after day. To be honest, you felt like you could be fired anytime.

At least you had that hot secret to rely on when you felt you would come undone, when that charge felt too big to you. " Y/N, I know you're able to do much more" Sanhyuk got used to whispering in your ear from behind on Friday nights. Maybe he was right. None of the subsidiaries collapsed during that year so you could believe you were not that tragic as a chief.

In front of the meeting room door, you smiled at yourself. You had just gotten bashed by the memory of the CEO's hot presence behind you. He was the best at reassuring you, that man could list positive traits in you and you should write his words down. "you're able to do much more" you mouthed so only you could hear it, then pushed the door open.

...

The graphics were still on display, venetian blinds still blocking the light from outside. Comparisons between what you expected in the first place and what actually was happening now had been exhaustively analyzed. From now on you all have a new plan to follow and it would be informed to the chairman very soon. Only you and your secret affair were left inside the large room.

You still needed to take some notes in your notebook in order not to forget any small detail that was discussed there. On the other hand, Sanhyuk calmly sipped from his coffee. He laid the cup on the table and made a sneaking move to grab your paper planner. Despite your distraction, you noticed he budged and lifted an attentive gaze to him.

"Are you free for now?" he asks with a cocky smile giving up on opening your appointment book.

"Yeah, one and a half hour. I thought I'd need a break after this meeting" you answered resting your chin on your palm.

"I thought the same" he revealed with a restful yet serious expression.

Still, his graveness earned a soft chuckle from you.

"You're always taking breaks, Mr. CEO."

"That's my secret to be the best man here" he replied straightening his back.

You nodded. It was obvious by his tone that he was joking, he was not the smug type. Anyways, in fact, you stopped noticing other men after you started seeing each other. It was not a relationship or romance. He made clear that it was casual but you could not convince your feelings not to take him too seriously. Despite not being open for a relationship he still was able to be attentive and kind so what could be the problem?

Speaking of which, he was doing it again. Sanghyuk smoothly got up and came closer to you. "Anyone can see your commitment from miles away, Ms. Chief Operating. Now it's time to relax. Nobody is watching" His soft hands lay on your shoulders but without weight. Instead, what you felt was a delicious wave of desire. There was something in the way his voice sounded soothing and familiar that have you lower your eyelids. His thumbs started firm moves and you were entirely his in a second.

"This is not the time for it, Sanghyuk" you strived to say but your voice was rather a moan and his name merely a gasp.

"Once my hands are on you, it's so hard for me to stop. Baby girl, Please, understand" he disguised his request as a plea, making magic with his sweet yet manly voice, capturing you with his charms.

You turned your head to the door. Your body was melting but there was a hint of concern in the back of your conscience.

"Okay, I can lock it" his hands slid from your shoulders to your arms before he headed to the entrance. You stared while he made every movement as if your eyes were attracted to him by a force you could not avoid. He came back with a mischievous smile and removed the golden tie clip from his garment, followed by the suit jacket. He was getting more comfortable and so you craved to be. You untied your hair just the way he liked. Screw any appearance concerns, you were locked in a soundproof room for the next hour.

He leaned in to connect your lips and motioned you to stand up through a gentle push on your upper arm. You turned around and laid your butt on the wooden table. The thick fabric of your skirt slipped up as you forced your legs open to make way to the man. He trapped you like a hunter with a hare, however, the small animal in question was happy to be captured.

You could feel his muscled chest under his dark blue shirt and his fist closing around your hair. He pulled your head backward by a messy ponytail. You cursed in pleasure. "Goddamit. This is too much."

"I can stop if you can't stand it" he jested a second before his mouth was on your throat drawing everything from you but a supplication to stop.

Your back arched when he sneaked his hand between your legs, brushing your inner thighs. "Why haven't we done it before?" he asked rhetorically, his words fanning at your sensitive skin.

Surely both of you needed a better position, so you hastily dragged yourself to the center of the table and he crawled in the same direction. The graphics projected on the white wall at your right now illuminated the side of your faces. Both of you have a moment to chuckle at each other. He caressed your face with the back of his hand noticing that an inconvenient thought crossed his mind. What if he was catching feelings? The touch was maybe an attempt to shake it off.

You finally counterattacked him with a hungry kiss and he responded pulling you down. Now you were away from the spotlight again. Your legs encircled his hips, so you could feel him growing under the fabric. Your skirt was completely rolled up. You and Sanghyuk could feel the anticipation increasing under your clothes as you intensely palmed each other to feel everything.

"Should we stop it?" The CEO snaps after disconnecting your lips. None of the buttons of his shirt were kept in place so you could observe his breath movements with no covers.

"Do you think we should?" you ask back being reminded of where you were.

"Honestly I can't give a fuck about what we should or not do here. I'm just worried about you" he confessed. A half yellow half red graphic colored his face. You placed your hand over his which rested on your hip. "I don't want you to feel disrespected or something"

Your mouth slowly rang open at the scene. A player like him should not be worrying about it.

"Okay, let's fix our clothes and-"

You interrupted him by both grabbing his wrist and speaking:

"I admit you surprised me with your approach in our workplace but don't think I would ever do something I weren't into"

You laid your back on the wood again, hair spread on its surface, and watched him hover over you. "Powerful as usual"

[letssingintherain]

empty dreams ➵ d.m.

you accidentally slip in draco’s bed instead of your boyfriend’s for some cuddles. 

pairing: draco malfoy x y/n (slytherin) x blaise zabini 

summary: draco has had a soft spot for you since year 3 but has to conceal it because his best mate starts dating you. it becomes harder to deal with after a heart-fluttering instance, making draco’s life quite a bit more miserable. 

contains: 3.5k words of angst and draco being a simp. NO cheating!! set in year 6 with no voldy. :)

song recs: dancing on my own - calum scott, hold me while you wait - lewis capaldi, somebody else - the 1975 (i listened to these songs and a few others for inspo)

Draco was terribly in love with his best mate’s girlfriend and it irritated him to no end. 

The infatuation started long before Blaise asked Y/N out, and to be honest, Draco had no clue exactly when it started. All he knew was that during his third year he began taking notice of the way your eyes sparkled with mirth, the way your hair caught the sunlight, the way your dimples lingered on your face after hearing a witty remark, and the way you showed selfless concern for everyone without being afraid to speak your mind. After that, he found it hard to focus on anything else but the beat of his pounding heart when you were talking to him. 

Draco never made a move because he was scared of losing your friendship. Y/N, Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Daphne, Theodore, along with Crabbe and Goyle were the most tight-knit friend group in Slytherin. So it was easy for Draco to use the excuse of “keeping the friend group intact” and avoid ever confronting his feelings about you. Unfortunately for Draco, Blaise didn’t share the same sentiment and asked Y/N on a date to Hogsmeade a few weeks ago.  

~

You were chattering with Daphne and Pansy in the common room about the absurdity of the latest “Quibbler” when you heard someone approach you three. 

“Hey ladies, mind if I borrow Y/N for a moment?” Blaise flashed a charismatic smile at the trio and extended his arm to Y/N. You glance at the girls in surprise before taking Blaise’s hand. 

“No, not at all!” Daphne and Pansy share knowing looks while giggling. 

Feeling quite out of the loop, you follow Blaise outside of the common room, not sure what to expect. 

He gently let go of your hand once you two reached an empty hallway. Blaise turned around to face you and took a deep breath. 

“So I’ve been wanting to tell you for some time now..I find you very attractive,” He said these words slowly while observing your reaction. “I’d love to get to know you more and take you on a date to Hogsmeade, if you’re okay with that?” 

Your were shocked by his proposal because you had never imagined Blaise Zabini to have feelings for you. You knew how many girls would wait nervously outside his classes hoping to catch a glimpse of him. You and your friends would even roll your eyes at the sight and tease Blaise about having a “fan club”. 

After getting over the shock, you looked at Blaise and thought about his words seriously. “Blaise is really attractive,” you noted the way his jumper with rolled up sleeves perfectly fit his body. “And I do always have a good time with him,” you added on after thinking of his sly humor and good-natured personality. 

“I’d be honored.”

~

Draco winced at the memory of the start of you and Blaise’s relationship. He worried that Blaise would follow his old pattern of dating girls just to dump them a few weeks later, but everyone else in the group assured him that he was overthinking. He had congratulated Blaise with a forced smile and a pat on the back while fuming inside. He couldn’t exactly blame Blaise though, it’s not like he confided to Blaise about his crush on you. 

Which is the reason why Draco is currently doing his best to remain focused on Professor Snape’s drawling voice and not look at you whispering to Blaise from the corner of his eyes. 

Blaise looked as charming as ever in his signature look—a dark green jumper with rolled up sleeves over a collared shirt, with his Slytherin tie poking out slightly. You looked like a princess with your flowing [y/h/c] hair and the green headband nestled snugly on the top of your head. You ditched the jumper and were just wearing a collared shirt with a Slytherin tie along with the normal green plaid skirt and knee-high socks. 

The sight of you two looking so attractive together made Draco feel cold and glum inside. And it didn’t help that the classroom was actually chilly and gloomy.

“You’d think they’d be able to at least afford some bloody heat lamps in this place, but I guess not.” Draco mumbled to himself in annoyance while blowing on his hands and rubbing them together. He was wearing the normal Slytherin uniform complete with a long cloak, but with a few special touches that displayed his status. He had a small snake enamel pinned on his tie that complimented the snake signet ring he always kept on his right ring finger. 

Most of the students at least made the effort to seem like they were focused on the greasy-haired professor, unlike you and Blaise. Snape finally noticed this and focused his eyes on you two. 

“Today we will be attempting to make the Elixir of Euphoria to practice for your NEWT level exams. It is a highly advanced potion so I suggest all of you give it your full attention.” Snape waved his cloak dramatically and glared at Y/N and Blaise. 

“I am talking about you two, Miss. Y/L/N and Mr. Zabini. Or is whatever you’re so feverishly discussing more urgent?” Snape’s comment earned a scoff from Draco while the whole class looked back at the couple. 

“No, professor. Sorry.” You and Blaise grinned sheepishly and moved slightly apart, eyes gleaming when you exchanged glances. 

It physically pained Draco to see you two act so close. He wished that he could be the one to bring a smile to your face, to shower you with affection, and to spoil you endlessly with his wealth. And he wished you could be his person to comfort him when he felt down, to run your hands through his silky platinum hair, and to assure him that he was enough and everything was okay. 

But these were all delusions, and all he could presently do was sulk and twirl his ring while he fixed his gaze to the front of the room. 

Snape huffed and turned around to stand behind his desk. He tapped his cauldron two times with his wand, filling it up with a glowing yellow substance that resembled sunlight. 

“Your instructions are on the board along with some tips, and your ingredient list is in your textbook.” Snape flicked his wand at the blackboard, revealing intricate steps in tiny font that filled up the entire board. The class groaned at the sight and reluctantly opened their dusty books. 

Daphne worked with Pansy, Crabbe paired up with Goyle, and of course you partnered up with Blaise, which left Theodore unlucky enough to face Draco’s wrath. 

Theodore slipped in the seat beside Draco and slapped him on his shoulder.

“I really hope you know what you’re doing, because I bloody well don’t.” Theodore chuckled, hands crossed behind his head while leaning back in the chair. 

“Of course you don’t. Just try not to get in the way, yeah?” Draco snapped impatiently and squinted to read the board. 

“Sounds perfect to me,” Theodore dismissed Draco’s attitude for his usual cynicism. He absentmindedly looked around in the classroom, eventually spotting you and Blaise. 

“Oi, Y/N and Blaise are snogging!” He pointed out, entertained by the sight of some of his closest friends kissing. 

Draco smashed the shrivelfig to a fine powder before realizing that he meant to only chop it. He cursed under his breath and reached for a new one. 

Theodore noticed Draco’s strange temper and remarked, “What’d the shrivelfig do to you, mate?” Draco glared at him, causing Theodore to raise his hands in defeat and back away from the cutting board. 

Draco couldn’t resist peeking at you two and immediately regretted it after he confirmed you two were indeed getting cozy. He sneered in distaste before feeling his heart ache painfully. Draco tried to ignore the ache as best as he could and resolved to focus on his potion. 

...

“Let’s see if any of you possess the talent of a potion-brewer.” 

Potions class was finally coming to an end, and Snape wandered around to check everyone’s results. Only a few cauldrons resembled the desired bright yellow color and Draco’s was sadly not one of them. Draco and Theodore stared at their dark orange concoction while exchanging grimaces. 

“You may try a sip of your elixir. It should induce silly giggles and an overall mood-boost.” Snape observed you and Blaise’s sunshine-yellow potion, showing silent signs of approval as he glided away. 

Draco scowled at the sight and downed a whole bottle of his own potion out of pure spite. After a few moments of regret and apprehension, his nose started to bleed profusely. 

“Ahh, what’d you do that for?” Theodore hastily handed a towel to Draco, who groaned and leaned his head back to slow down the flow. 

“Nothin’...thought it’d be safe.” Draco’s voice became nasally due to the blood spouting from his nose. 

“Mr. Malfoy, please see Madam Pomfrey before you bleed out in my class.” Snape glanced down at Theodore and Draco, tilting his head at the door. 

“Yes, sir.” Draco muttered while covering his nose with a towel, passing by you and Blaise on the way out. 

“Hey, Draco’s got a bloody nose!” Blaise pointed out in amusement while you giggle next to him. Normally Draco would respond with a witty jab, but he really wasn’t in the mood to do so. 

“Shove off, Blaise,” Draco spat in a hostile manner, feeling ashamed at his disposition. He proceeded to hurriedly exit the room, leaving you and Blaise confused.  

“Maybe his elixir had the opposite effect?” Blaise shrugged it off. 

...

It was night-time and Draco had visited Madam Pomfrey’s three times to no avail. 

“I’ve told you this already but I’ll repeat myself once more, Mr. Malfoy. You’re just going to have to let it bleed out by itself.” She passed him several blood-replenishing potions to drink over the course of the night. 

“What’s the use of a healer if they advise you to bleed out?” Draco thought in annoyance before accepting the potions. 

Blaise offered Draco to switch beds to be closer to the bathroom, in case he were to keep bleeding throughout the night. Draco accepted begrudgingly, annoyed at how his feelings for you made it difficult for him to fully appreciate Blaise’s kind actions. 

Though he knew it wasn’t Blaise’s fault, Draco couldn’t help but be bitter towards his best mate.

“It must be the jealousy,” Draco admitted sullenly while laying on Blaise’s bed, observing how he was facing the windows of the Black Lake instead of his usual position of lying next to them. 

The lake lapped at the windows soothingly, giving the dorm room a dappled green glow. The room had several mahogany four-poster beds and was decorated lavishly thanks to the generous donations by Slytherin alumni. Draco was the only one in the room so it was filled with a peaceful silence that implored sleep.  

Draco’s sleepy haze caused his mind to unconsciously drift to images of you and Blaise. How you two would hold hands while walking to class, jokingly feed each other food in the Great Hall, and even kiss during Potions. He irritatedly turned over, forcing himself to focus on anything else. 

After listening to to the waves of the lake for a few more minutes, he couldn’t help but give in to the pull of sleep. 

“Stop it!” Y/N flustered and pushed his chest. “It’s a common mistake.” 

Draco chuckled and held your wrist. He pulled you closer to him and took advantage of his towering height over you by tilting your chin up. 

“Don’t worry, darling. I found it quite endearing.” He smirked at the blush in your cheeks. He reached down to wrap his hands over your waist, feeling your hards cross over his neck. 

Draco indulged in the smell of your hair, taking in the clean notes of your perfume. He hugged you tighter, not wanting to pull apart. 

Draco was waken up from his dream by the sound of a yelp and opened his eyes groggily. To his surprise, he met the [y/e/c] eyes of Y/N, who seemed even more taken aback than him. 

Draco immediately backed away, bewildered at how this happened. 

“Draco! Why are you in Blaise’s bed?” Your eyes were wide open and Draco inappropriately noted how they were even more beautiful close up. You slid off the bed before turning around to face Draco with your arms crossed. You were still clad in your normal uniform while he was in a loose white tee and gray sweatpants. 

“He switched with me so I can get to the bathroom quicker because my nose keeps bleeding.” After saying this, he felt blood rush to his head that was undoubtedly about to come out of his nose. Draco sat up on the bed, feigning ease in the hope that it was an illusion. 

“Why’d you pull me closer then?” You asked curiously, embarrassed that you accidentally climbed in bed with the platinum blonde boy. 

“I don’t know, it was a dream, Y/N! Why would I push someone away in a dream?” Draco threw his hands up exasperatedly, also embarrassed that he unknowingly cuddled you. 

You felt your lips curve upward, finding the situation humorous. Draco saw this and started grinning too. To his horror, blood began spurting out of his nose, making him rush to the bathroom. Y/N followed him closely, both worried and curious at his infliction. 

After reaching the sink and letting the blood out, Draco exhaled in relief. He turned to his side and looked into your eyes, suddenly resisting the urge to laugh. You looked so cute looking up at him with wide-eyed concern. You meet his eyes with a grin and you two finally laughed freely at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. 

“I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable, Y/N. I’ll be more careful next time I switch beds with Blaise.” Draco teased while playfully nudging your shoulder. 

You shifted your weight on your feet and shook your head, “No, it was my fault too. I should’ve checked the hair color before getting in bed.” You reached up to ruffle Draco’s fluffy white-blonde hair amusedly. 

Draco felt his heart involuntarily skip a beat at the sudden contact and shifted away from Y/N. He cursed himself internally for showing signs of his infatuation and couldn’t bring himself to make a response. 

“Um...You wouldn’t happen to know where Blaise is right?” Y/N broke the silence, perplexed at the sudden awkwardness. 

Draco tensed at the mention of Blaise. 

“No.” He replied coldly before walking back into the room without making eye contact with you. He sat on the edge of the bed, deliberately gazing towards the windows of the lake and nowhere else. 

You were puzzled at the sudden coldness but didn’t dwell on it, assuming he was moody because of his pesky predicament. 

“Alright, I’m gonna go find him.” You tentatively walked to the door of the dorm. “Feel better, Draco!” You gave him a small smile before leaving the room and closing the door with a soft click.  

Draco waved slightly, not wanting to reveal any more emotions. After making sure you had left, he threw himself on the bed frustratedly. It didn’t help his obsession that he felt the emptiness of the bed more clearly now. It also didn’t help that he has a memory of your eyes close up. It definitely didn’t help that he remembered the scent of your perfume. 

He sighed before turning over, silently vowing to let go of his feelings for you, both for his sake and Blaise’s. His vows were greeted by the silence of the dorm, quiet except for the gentle lapping of the lake. 

He didn’t think it was possible, but the ache in his heart grew. 

“It’s got to get worse before it gets better, right?” Draco sighed once more, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

...

Months go by, and Draco was proud at how he successfully suppressed his feelings. You no longer took up the majority of his thoughts and he could finally return to being his snarky self with Blaise. 

Draco hung out with the group as if nothing was wrong, and no one seemed to notice anything different. The group maintained the old dynamic of sarcasm and witty humor, reflecting Draco’s wish of “keeping the friend group intact”. 

He was strolling around with his buddies in his usual air of haughtiness when he noticed Pansy and Daphne quietly whispering about you in the corner of a hallway. 

“...Can’t believe Blaise said that..Poor Y/N...” They sighed, clearly worried about what happened to you.  

Draco’s felt a familiar tightening in his heart he thought he got rid of. He ditched his other friends and walked towards the two, apprehensive to learn about what happened.  

“What’d he do?” Draco demanded, his imperative demeanor taking Pansy and Daphne by surprise. 

“I’m not sure if she’d want us to tell anyone yet.” Daphne hesitated, unsure of what to say. 

When Draco realized they weren’t going to give up any clues he scowled and strode off, deciding to ask you himself. 

He walked briskly in the stone hallways of the castle, thinking of places you could be. He knew you loved the stars, but it was still bright outside, so there was no reason for you to be in the Astronomy Tower. He knew you loved the serene setting of the Black Lake, but it was bound to be infested with underclassmen on a sunny day like this, which you wouldn’t like. He realized you must be in the garden, recalling the way you always looked at the flowers in adoration.

He picked up his pace and walked swiftly in the direction of the garden. His thoughts made him restless on the way there, “What could Blaise have done?” 

He added another thought hastily, “What can I do without crossing a line?” 

He spotted you in the garden before he figured out the answer to his question. 

Draco watched as you sat on a stone ledge directly facing the wisteria flowers. The flowers were not yet in full bloom, so the tree was scattered unevenly with buds and flowers. You distractedly dangled your legs in the air and flourished your wand to enchant flower buds to grow towards you. Your eyes were glossy and your face was tear-stained, but Draco thought he had never seen you look more ethereal. 

He reached you in time to see your charm work too ambitiously, making the flowers blossom and wilt in mere seconds. You started to break into tears, hugging your body close. Draco slowly approached you, but you were too busy crying to notice. 

“Hey.” Draco said hesitantly. 

“Oh! Hi, Draco.” You wiped your eyes furiously and looked up at him. You gave a tiny smile that looked more like a grimace. 

The sight of you being so sad made Draco miserable as well, feeling the tug at his heartstrings. 

“What happened?” Draco asked in an empathetic tone and took a seat next to you on the ledge, making sure to give you ample space. 

“Blaise..broke up with me. He said he just wants to be friends. How could he say that after months?” You said bitterly, tears sliding down your face.

Draco noticed the drops of water gliding down your face and had to use all his willpower to refrain from wiping away your tears. He hated that a guy made you feel like this, especially because it was his best friend. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Draco awkwardly reached out to rub your shoulder in soft circles. 

You leaned against his hand on your shoulder, sniffling quietly. 

You two stay like this for a while, before Y/N scooted closer to Draco, burying your head in his chest and clutching his white dress shirt while emitting muffled sobs. 

Draco’s heart broke at the sight, holding you closer to comfort you. He secretly cursed Blaise out before feeling guilty. He felt like an accomplice as he watched you let your pain out. 

How did he let you get hurt? 

You cried some more before looking up at Draco with teary eyes. 

“I’m sorry for ruining your shirt.” You smiled in an embarrassed manner and moved away from him. He noticed how your lashes were slick with tears and how your nose and cheeks were rosy from crying. He felt his heart rate quicken after glancing at your swollen lips, and quickly averted his eyes before blushing slightly. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Draco shrugged nonchalantly. You two look at the wisteria trees, feeling the breeze flow through both of your hair. Draco understood why you liked this spot, it was quiet and came with a stunning view of the trees and flowers. It was a beautiful day out, sunny with some clouds floating lazily. You both bask in comfortable silence. 

“I just feel...hollow? Like I'm missing a part of myself,” You confessed eventually, wearily twisting around to look at Draco.  

He nodded knowingly, very familiar with the empty feeling you were describing. He turned to make eye contact with your wounded eyes, feeling just as much heartbreak and pain as you did. 

Even though Draco hated seeing you with Blaise, he couldn’t help but feel like he hated seeing you heartbroken even more. 

a/n: this is the first fic i’ve ever written, so i feel quite nervous publishing it. if you read this far, i appreciate you so so much <33. i’m thinking of writing a sequel to this with more fluff and possibly more focus on y/n’s perspective, so let me know your thoughts! :) 

edit!: hi lovelies, i’ve decided to write more parts to this fic! thanks for all the love and lmk if you want to be tagged <3    [read pt.2 here]

(also, i know slughorn should be the potions professor during their sixth year but i just felt like snape fit the story a bit more!)

-k.z.

[selfproducingfanfictionauthor]

BTS scenario: Yoongi finds you after 1,871 days (1)

Summary: It takes 1,871 days for Yoongi to find you. Five years, one month, and four days. He’s turned over every house in your village, every pack in your province, and chased your family to every distant home you have before arriving to a quaint apartment in the middle of Seoul. Warnings/Notes: The continuation to Yoongi’s part in this scenario drabble. Please read because it might not sense if you don’t lol. No warnings as of now. 

Word Count: 1,500+ words READ PART TWO HERE

It takes 1,871 days for Yoongi to find you.

Five years, one month, and four days. He’s turned over every house in your village, every pack in your province, and chased your family to every distant home you have before arriving to a quaint apartment in the middle of Seoul.

Inside the car and behind the tinted windows, Yoongi stares up to your apartment. It’s small, but it comes with a balcony where clothes hang to dry. He recognizes a familiar red blouse, and a blue jumper.

What he doesn’t recognize are these: a small pair of shorts, a school uniform, and a plain shirt - all in a size of perfect for a child.

1,871 days is a long time but you split it like this: the time before Yongho and the time after Yongho.

It didn’t take long for you to leave the pack after that night with Yoongi. You knew then that if you drag your feet, you’ll never be able to leave. So, with your family’s promise and blessing, you packed your bags, your savings, and your heart and boarded the next plane out of the country.

You didn’t think Yoongi would look for you (but you hoped, desperately, sometimes even too much) but still, you took serious precautions. Running away with an alpha’s child is not a slight offense regardless of the reason.

With no family and no friends, you hunkered down in the outskirts of Taipei. You watched summer turn to fall, and then by winter, your arms are warmed by the small bundle of joy that is your son.

Yongho is a precious boy, with your nose and lips, and Yoongi’s feline eyes. He’s curious, energetic, and affectionate, and not a day goes by that you’re not thankful for his presence.

When he turned three, and with no new news of Yoongi coming from your family, you opted to return to your homeland to finish your post-graduate studies. You never planned on hiding Yongho from his father forever, but for years after you left, your family urged you not to reveal yourself.

The pack has splintered, stay hidden until everything settles. They are invoking the old law.

And so you did, however, now, circumstances have changed.

“Yongho, I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

Yoongi watches a few steps behind you as you kneel down to your child’s height. Even with your crouching form, he still couldn’t see his son’s features. He’s small for his age, he muses, just like he was in his youth.

Yoongi hears a sound of high-pitched approval from his child, before your lips curve into a familiar smile.

“Good,” you say, “Why don’t you change clothes and then you can join us in the kitchen?”

The little boy scampers away with a giggle and you silently turn to Yoongi, leading him to the kitchen.

Your apartment isn’t small, but it’s not large either. The kitchen is quaint with herbs growing on the small window by the sink. Yoongi smells the leftover scents of bacon, milk, and eggs from the air mixed with the tea you placed in front of him.

For a while, it’s silent and Yoongi takes care to observe you.

It’s been five years but somehow, the difference startles him. Though your features remained the same, there’s a certain hardness to it now, like a polished sword - a calm protective air.

“Mama! I’m ready!”

Your scent immediately spikes with warmth as you hear your son’s steps down the stairs. You turn in your chair, catching him so readily in your arms.

“I combed my hair too, see?” Yongho peers up to you with a smile, one of his front teeth missing. Smiling fondly, you touch his hair lightly. “I see that, my love, good job.”

Yongho grins before turning and glancing at the man with his eyes, sitting at the other end of your dining table. His smile wobbles at the seriousness in the man’s face but he perseveres. He’s a guest, mama said.

Seeing that Yoongi has caught your son’s attention, you clear your throat. You’ve never lied about your son’s father ever since he first asked about it when he was three, and so this conversation shouldn’t be hard.

“Yongho, this is Yoongi, your father.”

The secondary gender’s characteristics manifests early into puberty. However, with the advancement of science and technology, people have found a way to determine an individual’s secondary gender as early as they’re 6 months old.

You tried avoiding these tests for Yongho to give him a shot at a regular, unburdened childhood but it became unavoidable when you tried to enroll him to his first pre-school class.

It had taken all of your family’s dwindling connections to scrub the records clean but even that isn’t enough to keep the news from reaching the elders ears.

Your son, little Y/L/N Yongho, is the rarest of them all - a male omega.

And so you called Yoongi. It’s less of him finding you, and more of you allowing yourself to be found. With nothing left to possibly do, you reached out to the only one you think can help.

Things have settled quite quickly, your son is young, forgiving and eager. At the sight of his father, he quickly warmed up and you watched Yoongi struggle faintly at the overwhelming energy of your pup.

They spent the whole day in his room, watching movie after movie, and playing with every toy Yongho owns. He even showed his father his drawings, most of which were of the town you lived in Taiwan.

“So that’s where you went.” Yoongi observes, finger touching the crayon drawing of you and Yongho making pineapple cakes.

The sun has already set and Yongho’s knocked out in his room. The two of you are once again across each other, on the other sides of your mahogany kitchen table.

“Yes,” you respond calmly, “We stayed there for three years.”

Yoongi breathes, closes his eyes and tries not to think of you, heavily pregnant and alone. There’s time to discuss the past, but that’s not today. Still, he couldn’t help the bitterness seep into his voice, not after he’s known what he missed for five years.

A son, a beautiful son.

“Had I known you’re craving pineapple cakes, we would’ve sent for it.”

I looked for you, he wants to say, I nearly went mad, looking for you.

You let out a pained chuckle, “Funny. I actually couldn’t stand it when I was pregnant. Yongho loves them though.”

“Why am I here?” Yoongi cuts, his alpha rearing its head. That’s our blood she hid, it snarls, our seed, our son - she took him away!

Wordlessly, you took out a red envelope from under your seat. The familiar seal of the pack elders broken into two. You slide it towards Yoongi and watch as he reads it contents.

You watch as his eyes grow sharper and his jaw clench reading the request of the elders. He too, has changed, you observe. The wild energy you’ve associated with him is gone, perhaps veiled under the surface.

After all, an omega’s chosen alpha should be a man of discipline.

“They can’t do this,” Yoongi grits out. “It’s against the law to take a child from their family.”

You shake your head, nights poured over the texts of your youth heavy on your mind, “The pack only recognizes families of mated individuals.”

Yoongi’s eyes flicker at your unmarked neck and his alpha curls into himself. Unmarked. Our son’s mother is unmarked, it whimpers. Before he could speak, you continue on.

“I’ve read the books, and sought advice from the Wong pack of Taipei, there are two ways to avoid this—“

Marriage, Yoongi thinks, and the box in his pocket suddenly weighs a ton. He’s carried it around for five years, hoping to find you. 

“—but since mating is out of question—“ a flash of the old you passes in your eyes, and Yoongi opens his mouth to protest, but you don’t stop.

“— I’ve invoked the ancient law.” You pause, taking a deep breathe. “A month from now, I’ll be battling the primary alpha of the pack for the custody of our child.”

Yoongi gasps. The primary alpha… is Jeon Jungkook, one of their strongest and most devoted to the omega. He’ll tear you apart if she so asks.

Yoongi startles when you push your chair back, standing suddenly in front of him. Your eyes are brimming with unshed tears, but your back is straight, as you kneel down- your forehead to the ground, a few inches from his feet.

“Min Yoongi, alpha of the Min family, father of my son, my former betrothed — for all that we were and we cannot be, I beseech you.”

Yoongi’s alpha is snarling inside his head, confused, scared, angry at your thoughtless decision and his own thoughtlessness that lead you here. It’s a visceral reaction - an alpha doesn’t bow to another alpha, but here you are.  Everything for your son. 

“If I lose, take our son. He needs your name.”

END NOTES: Well, this got out of hand. There’s a lot unsaid between these two and a lot of time passed by between the them in the drabble and this one. Let me know what you think! I’m thinking of where to bring the other hyungline members’ plotlines still.  Hearts are great but comments and reblogs will reach a lot more readers. Let’s spread the love!  Should I continue Yoongi’s story? What do you think will happen? TAG LIST: @justmewondering-recs @cloudbuffalo @blushingatyou @aroseharder @neverthefirstchoice @xanny91 @sugaaddiction @flirtygerty​ @darkskin-buttercup​

[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.”