#if i get home and eat and shower relatively quickly i can probably play another 2 hours lets goooo

[phagodyke]

told my coworker I just started elden ring and he was like fuck me playing souls games is more stressful than a full time job I had to quit ER when I started this job so I could just chill out when I got home instead.... 💀

[1kook]

crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast. 

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.  

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office. 

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5. 

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses. 

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful. 

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.” 

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.” 

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.” 

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking. 

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever. 

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours. 

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together. 

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.) 

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be. 

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you. 

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber. 

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend. 

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary. 

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days. 

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.  

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.) 

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like. 

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites. 

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?” 

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.” 

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind. 

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into. 

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway. 

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin. 

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear. 

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass. 

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you. 

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak. 

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead. 

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat. 

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts. 

They go like this: 

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really. 

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively. 

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once. 

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you. 

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome. 

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve. 

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek. 

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts. 

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.” 

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles. 

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild. 

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums. 

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again. 

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning. 

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.” 

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment. 

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“ 

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him. 

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned. 

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.” 

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.” 

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.” 

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.” 

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“— 

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear. 

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer. 

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole. 

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips. 

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise. 

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath. 

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. 

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue. 

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger.  “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…” 

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?” 

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles. 

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over. 

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more. 

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them. 

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub. 

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor. 

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face. 

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention. 

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock. 

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand. 

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane. 

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh. 

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be. 

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds. 

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter. 

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic. 

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock. 

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you. 

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip. 

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl. 

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully. 

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin. 

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said. 

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away. 

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself. 

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you. 

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once. 

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth. 

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets. 

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever. 

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries. 

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you. 

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question. 

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest. 

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[chubbology]

The Munchies

prompt: a stoner feedee's girlfriend uses him to test out new edibles and deals with his munchies

Remmy returned home from visiting relatives on the last day of December, and he was very glad to be back. They’d fed him well and his pants were tight, but all the small talk and bad vibes had been as much of a drag as usual.

He opened the door to his apartment and breathed in a familiar, potent scent.

“Baby!” Brianna ran from the kitchen and tackled him.

“Happy almost New Year! Wanna hear my resolution? Baking and getting baked. Check it out.”

She brought him over to the counter, where she was almost done filling up three containers of what Remmy had no doubt were various edibles. He ignored the kitchen mess.

“I’m liking what I see,” Remmy laughed.

She preened and then pinched his love handle. “I bet you do."

"These aren’t your typical brownies, though," she said. "This is gourmet.” She kissed her fingertips in a muah.

The first container was full of moist shortbread, the second with a kind of apple crumble dish that looked divine. Last but not least, the third had a jumble of what like peanut butter cups.

“Try something!” Brianna gushed. She seemed to be a little floaty already. “You’re gonna be my new taste tester. I think I could really be good at this. Make some cash, too.”

So Remmy tried one of the peanut butter cups. His eyes widened, and he smiled. “Bri, these are incredible.” He ate another.

“Take it easy. Two should get you stoned. So says the recipe anyway.” Brianna rubbed his pudgy forearm as he eyed the rest in the container, biting the inside of his lip. “Hey. If you’re just hungry, I can fix that. You wanna eat?”

“I’m starving,” Remmy said. A lie, since he’d had a big lunch before driving back. But he could eat.

“Okay, I’ll get you something! Pay day was Monday. Let’s splurge. What do you want?”

McDonalds, Remmy’s mind supplied easily, in an almost salacious tone. His relatives thought they were too good for McDonalds, and now his body thrummed with the desire to just get a truckload of those greasy combos and revel in the guilt and satisfaction of eating every last unhealthy bite.

Then again. Brianna probably wasn’t okay to drive right now, he didn’t feel like getting back in the car, and the scale told him he’d hit 240 recently, “Let’s just order in.”

“Sounds good to me.”

That night, as they ignored the idiots on television bringing in the New Year, the two of them picked at the apple crumble - which tasted as brilliant as Remmy had suspected - and lounged around, enjoying their high. Brianna barely touched her Chinese takeout, and Remmy ate all of his. Then hers. Then he started grazing the kitchen for more food.

Over the course of the next week, the two of them finished off the rest of what she made, plus some more recipes that turned out delicious. Brianna got a pleasant high every time, and Remmy enjoyed the edibles, too, although his experience was slightly different. It was just—

He just—

He got hungry. Munchies but on unholy overdrive. Cranked to eleven and a half. With every high, Remmy became a little more overwhelmed by the sheer amount of food he felt compelled to pack away, savory and sweet. Takeout and fast food and quarts of ice cream. Nuts and fruits, too. Jar of peanut butter here. Tub of icing there. He’d never been very active, so it came as no surprise when his clothes began stretching over his chest and belly and thighs and ass. He popped a button getting dressed one morning and couldn’t stop thinking about it the rest of the day. He hadn’t realized it would happen so quickly, his body converting all the calories into flab. Flab that padded him out chubbier than he already was, and then more on top of that. In the mirror, he started to look big.

Brianna seemed unfazed by her boyfriend’s growing girth. She took to her baking resolution with as much gusto as she did anything that interested her, and even into March, April, and May, she was selling the edibles well and raked in money that almost made her day job obsolete. Remmy was constantly praised for being “the bestest taste tester ever” and enjoyed a steady stream of free highs to balance out the lows of spending most of his time working his IT job from home.

Working, gaming, watching old movies. Remmy already stayed sitting most of the day, but as he gained weight, gained a lot, filling out his desk chair to its limits, crumbs becoming his constant companion, he felt even less like standing up. His weight climbed to 280, 290, 300.

June, July, and August passed uneventfully, and pretty happily, too. Brianna stopped asking him what food he wanted from the grocery store and just bought him things. Bought him things she knew he’d eat when he got high, things that made his ass spread wider on the couch, his arms round out like sausages, his pudgy chest start to really droop. The scale said 320, 330, 340.

Remmy gave up trying to gain control of the new appetite Brianna’s heavenly edibles seemed to install in him irrevocably. When he craved, he ate, and he ate. And like a dam breaking, his body surged with so much excess fat he began spilling out of even his newest clothes.

He was a little ashamed, sure. But quite a few of his relatives were fat, so they couldn't talk, and it felt like sweet revenge to embarrass his irritating parents by becoming so overweight. As for everyday life, well, he just moved around from room to room slower, wore the same stretchy clothes a lot, and that was it. Remmy did mention his weight in passing sometimes to gauge Brianna’s feelings about it, but Brianna only ever giggled, called him cute, and passed him her venti sugary monstrosity of a coffee concoction, which he thoughtlessly sucked down to the dregs, ingesting a thousand-plus calories just like that. This made her eyes sparkle, huge and utterly endeared.

“Like a piggy,” she said, thumbing his fat cheek. “Always willing to eat.”

In bed, she made it clear she liked him the way he was, and was becoming. And it wasn’t long before Remmy realized he was into how big he was becoming, too.

They continued like this. Getting high together and watching movies and making out and snacking. Well, Brianna snacked. Remmy feasted. Gorged himself, to put it precisely, with Brianna’s enthusiastic help. “You look good soft,” she’d tell him, playing with belly fat that his stretchiest t-shirts couldn’t cover anymore.

Remmy would swallow another bite of a snickers and spread his huge thighs a little, with effort. “You call it soft, but I’m the one who gets tired moving from the office to the kitchen.” I’m so heavy, he wanted to say. God, I’m so heavy.

“Just move your computer to the kitchen then,” she said. “Duh.”

It was a seed planted that came to fruition a month later - when Remmy’s food cravings became unmanageable and his weight climbed past 360 - that he felt he would simply be more productive during his day job if his breaks to get food from the kitchen were shorter.

By November, whether he was high or not, Remmy was grazing all day, everyday. What Brianna got from the store became insufficient, and he started a habit of ordering take out most days. In big portions. His scale creaked at 375. When Brianna wasn’t home, he sometimes ate takeout on the scale to see if the number would rise.

On Remmy’s birthday in early December, Brianna made a fresh batch of his favorites again: the peanut butter cup edibles. After ordering pizza for delivery, she got in the shower, and Remmy scarfed down three of the big cups as soon as they cooled. Then he waited, leaning against the counter, scrolling on his phone, belly hanging, feet hurting. He didn’t want to go to the effort of sitting on the couch and getting back up again when he could just stay in the kitchen, where he knew he’d end up anyway.

He scratched his supple underbelly. Found a pack of Twizzlers and started eating those.

Soon enough, his breathing slowed as he felt the high slowly come over him. And, as expected, his whole body immediately began to tingle for satiation. Fattening food sung to him from the pantry and fridge and freezer all at once, and it was all going to make him so huge and heavy he wouldn’t be able to stand on his own wide feet, but he wanted it anyway.

He didn’t care if he was pushing 390 now. He’d blown up, yeah. Inflated from a thick guy to obese and waddling. At this point, he was so pumped so big with blubber that he couldn’t twitch without jiggling, but so what? He was hungry. Being high made him want to consume, and so he did. He couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to.

Remmy opened the fridge and took out his birthday cake, which Brianna must have stuck in there after getting home from work. He couldn’t wait to eat it properly. There was no way he could wait until after the pizza came. Besides, it was his birthday. Remmy took off the plastic lid of the round, triple chocolate cake and felt his nerves light up with anticipation. He was going to eat it all, and there was no stopping him.

He found a knife and cut himself a slice three times the size any reasonable person would take. Desperate to get the goodness into his mouth without delay, he skipped a fork and bit right into the gooey, dense cake and mouse and fudge. God, Brianna was so perfect for getting him the unhealthiest cake imaginable. She knew he didn’t care if he was ten pounds heavier tomorrow, if his fat ass ripped his sweatpants open, if he ate so much he couldn’t haul himself to bed—she knew he needed this.

He ate slice after slice, and it was mostly gone when Brianna got out of the shower, looking sexier than usual in her matching purple lingerie. She’d gotten chubbier with so much junk food in the apartment, and fat clung to her in all the right places. But her pudge was a far cry from his angry-red stretch marks and neck rolls. Hell, his moobs had grown bigger than her tits.

She found him in the kitchen, eating and holding his drooping belly, and she rubbed his back, cooing at him when he apologized.

“It’s okay. I figured you wouldn’t be able to wait all night. How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Remmy said, but all he could think about was getting his next bite. As she watched him, he tried to hold out. Tried to prove he could stop eating for two seconds. Three seconds, four - his resolve broke and he crammed the rest of a slice into his mouth and chewed, choking back a moan.

“You get the munchies so bad, don’t you?” Brianna grinned and leaned against his belly, patting and cupping his weighty breasts in the way she knew pleased him. “Let’s get you sat down. I’ll bring you what you need. Just sit and relax and watch whatever you want.” They moved to the couch and Remmy sat, the cushions wheezing, his thighs and belly quivering. Brianna tucked the remainder of the cake into his pudgy hands. “Don’t worry about a mess. It’s your birthday. And there’s more where that came from.” She winked. “I just needed to keep this cake refrigerated because it’s fancy. There’s a whole sheet cake on top of the fridge that’s cheap and huge. Covered in icing. Perfect for munchies.”

Remmy could only feel a wave of relief at this news. There would be more cake. And after that, there’d still be more junk in the cabinets. There was pizza coming. His high was just right. Brianna turned on the television to his favorite show and he settled further back into the cushions, feeling his second chin swell out and engulf his first. Everything was just right. He was lucky to have Brianna and food. So much food.

A year later, around the same time, Remmy skipped his usual trip to see his relatives for the holidays. At 520 pounds, it was simply too much effort to move.

*

Thank you to the reader who commissioned this work!

I'd love to write more. Check me out <3 etsy.com/shop/Chubbology

[fbfh]

dear baby; strawberry milkshakes - leo x reader parents au

words: 1.8k

summary: You and Leo are getting used to adulting together, when Chiron asks for your help. Next thing you know, there’s a little demigod for you two to take care of - and you’re not going to let her down.

warnings: almost boning but getting interrupted, shit is said twice, one use of fucking I think, mentions of orphanages and the foster care system, mentions of CPS, being at a CPS building, adopting a child, leo has trauma, leo and reader take in a child when you’re both 19, technically teen parents but not really, the kid has some trauma too, everyone has trauma but literally what’s new

au: sort of college + parents au

song recs: raining in new york mix - the bootleg boy (tw for some sort of sad dialogue samples), falling in love with love - bernadette peters in cinderella (1997)

a/n:  I saw a kids book called Sophia Valdez Future Prez and I know nothing about it but immediately knew I had to do a parents au where you and Leo have a daughter named sophia???????? also I accidentally gave myself baby fever whoopsie

also I was barely able to proof read this and had no brain while writing half of it so if the beginning feels rushed at all that’s why teehee

Straddling his lap, you start to take off Leo’s shirt. He tilts his head to the side as you nip at the skin gently. He moans softly, then tenses. 

"Shit!" He hisses, sitting up and pulling your shorts back up. You look at him bewildered, and he nods his head to the side, and you see a shimmery cloud that says that you have an incoming iris message from Chiron.  

"Oh shit," you echo, moving to a reasonable distance away from him, a thick throw blanket tossed gracefully across your legs and pulled up to cover your chest, and you're grateful your shirt hadn't been thrown across the room already. 

He pulls his shirt down and you toss him a throw pillow to cover his very obvious excitement. You give each other a ready as we'll ever be look and accept the call. 

"Hey Chiron… what's up?" Leo asks nonchalantly. 

"You must pardon my intrusion, dear children, I hope I'm not - er - interrupting anything.” “No, no, not at all,” you answer, hoping what you had been doing wasn’t too obvious in spite of how both of you are looking particularly flushed and deschevled, “we were just watching a movie.” 

Leo nods in agreement, and you list two different movies at the exact same time, the dark knight rises and moonstruck.

A beat passes, and you continue, “Double feature. Just finished Batman and we’re about to start Moonstruck.” 

Leo agrees. You can’t tell if Chiron is buying it, but he seems to move on relatively quickly. 

“Right. I’m afraid I must ask for your help with a rather time sensitive situation.” your brows furrow in unicen as he continues. 

He tells you about a young demigod a satyr found, not even four years old yet, but they haven’t been able to get her to camp. Apparently there were some complications, and CPS was called, now they’re looking for her parents to see if she’s going to a foster home or orphanage. If they can’t get to her before the CPS finishes processing her, she’ll be lost in the system. He’s asking older demigods and demigod families in New York, since processing time will go the fastest if the family or guardians are in-state. 

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but please consider taking her in, at least temporarily.” You and Leo share a look, hearts already hurting that life has gotten to this kid so soon. 

“I’ll give you some time to discuss this, please call me back as soon as you have an answer.” 

You agree, and the shimmery image of Chiron dissipates.

“... Oh my god,” you breathe. 

You turn to each other again, the same thing mirrored in each other's eyes. An immediate, unspoken conformation that there’s no way you can’t help this kid out passes between you. You know Leo, especially, will do whatever needs to be done to keep another orphaned demigod out of the foster system. The scope of the impact you could have on this kid’s life starts to dawn on you, and you lock eyes with Leo again, his face set in determination. 

“Estrella,” he starts, and you know what he’s going to say. 

“I know,” you confirm in agreement.

His leg is bouncing, and you lean over, grabbing a notepad and pen from the coffee table. Your mind is already racing, and you begin scribbling down a list of everything you’d need to do; get her a bed and clothes, research where she is in her developmental stages, put together a meal plan or at least some foods she’ll like - what do toddlers even eat? He starts pacing around the coffee table. 

“We gotta help this kid, we-” he cuts himself off, overwhelmed with determination. 

“We will.” you confirm, equally determined. You grab your laptop and start copying your list digitally so you can get everything organized. You stare at your reflection in the black screen while you wait for your computer to boot up. Once again, the reality of your situation hits you.

“We’re 19…” you state, in disbelief. Your mind is racing with doubts. What if you somehow make everything worse, what if you can’t handle it? He crouches next to you, placing his hand on your cheek.

“And we have a lot of love to give.” The smile in your eyes tells him that you know he’s right. You transcribe your writing, surprised that you’re okay with how fast this is all moving, and you let out another breathy laugh of disbelief. 

You go through your hastily made checklist, switching between tabs about child psychology, parenting advice, and kid’s furniture and clothes websites, strategizing with Leo on how you can pull this off, and a plan gradually comes together.

“I mean, this is a two bedroom,” he says as you look through pages of bed frames and mattresses, “we can clear out our studio and turn it into her room.” 

“And…” you add, checking yet another tab, “there’s a building nearby that rents out studio spaces and workshop areas. Ooh, and free parking.” you read on the website. It’s already late, but you send them an email anyway. Hopefully they’ll get back to you tomorrow. But for now… 

“We can get a bed tonight, but we’d have to hurry. We can probably get some pjs and maybe a stuffed animal while we’re there- toothbrush!” You exclaim, adding it to your list, “I knew I was forgetting something…”

 Leo stops pacing, and looks at you. “So… we’re doing this?” You can’t fight the smile on your face, and he already has his answer. 

“We’d better call Chiron back,” you say, excitedly bubbling out. You both enter the bathroom, and iris message chiron with mist from the shower. He answers almost immediately.

“We thought it over and…” you trail off, letting him finish.

“We want to help.” 

After changing into some presentable clothes and swinging by the store for a car seat and some other essentials (you almost forgot tooth paste this time), you’re driving with Leo to meet Chiron at the CPS office where they had Sophia - the girl Chiron told you about. You call the Ikea store not too far from your apartment, thankful you’re able to reach them before they close. You arrange to have them deliver a toddler bed to the spare bedroom in your apartment, your neighbor agreeing to let them in. Luckily, you had the presence of mind to get most of your and Leo’s stuff out of there, the corner of the living room now holding your desk and his drafting table. 

You’re still a little blurry on the details of how you’re going to get custody of this kid when you’re barely legal and have no ties to her or her family, but Chiron said he could work everything out. You assume the Mist will come in very handy. You and Leo discuss this on the way over. 

You can tell he’s worried. Knowing the horrors he went through in the foster system would be bad enough without all the demigod bullshit on top of everything. You take another deep breath. 

“This is what’s best for her,” he says matter of factly, “she needs to be with people who understand her.” You agree, and he continues, very fired up.

“She needs to be in an environment where she’s not going to be ignored and ostracized; she needs to be part of a family, not a fucking meal ticket.” 

You squeeze his leg supportively, and he takes another breath. 

“You’re right. And she’s going to get all of that.” He scoffs in agreement.

“There’s not a better place for someone like her than-”

“With someone like her.” you finish. He pulls into the parking lot and you enter, meeting Chiron in the building. Your hand holds Leo’s tightly, unsure of who’s shaking more. Chiron explains that he already had a discussion (wink wink) with the social worker, and knows that he has the perfect couple to take little Sophia in, and all you have to do is meet with her and sign some papers. 

So that brings you here, waiting outside the office door, holding each other’s trembling hands before finally entering. She doesn’t look up at you at first, until the social worker introduces you. Leo squeezes your hand, and she finally looks up, her eyes speaking a language you and Leo know. You know there is absolutely no going back from here, and you both sit down across from her. 

“Hi, you’re Sophia, right?” She looks away, clearly and understandably overwhelmed. 

“Don’t be rude, Sophia-” the social worker starts, but you cut her off. 

 “It’s okay, she didn’t do anything wrong.” you turn back to her, “You know, me and Leo have an extra bedroom at our apartment, and a kitten that I think would really like you. Do you want to come stay with us?” 

She doesn’t look back up right away, but she turns her head towards you. 

“Is it a boy or a girl?” she asks softly. How is she so precious already?

“A girl,” you reply, “named Jackhammer, because she purrs so loud.” 

She giggles, and you and Leo squeeze each other’s hands in unison.

“Really?” she asks. 

“Oh yeah,” you reply, “I’m sure she’d love to play catch the mouse with you.” She considers for a moment, then looks over at the social worker, who gives her an encouraging nod. After a moment of consideration, she replies quietly, “...Okay.” 

She hops down from her chair, and you both follow suit. The social worker hands you some papers, and you both sign. You guide her to the lobby, let Chiron know it went well and promise to update him soon, and bring her to the car. You pull out of the parking lot. 

Not long after leaving, you see a fast food place. 

“Are you guys hungry?” you ask, nudging Leo gently. 

“Yeah, I could definitely go for some fries. How bout you Sophia?” 

She nods, then asks quietly, “Can I get a milkshake?” 

Her expression is hesitant, and you get the sense she’s expecting a no. 

“Of course kiddo,” you say.

“What flavor do you want?” Leo finishes, turning to look at her. Her eyes are bright with hesitant excitement. 

“Strawberry, please.” 

After leaving the drive through, you have Leo search through your phone for any kid friendly music, and discover the only thing you have saved that’s appropriate for present company is the soundtrack to the Cinderella musical from 1997.

That’s how your little family started; driving late at night, singing along to Bernadette Peters, and drinking strawberry milkshakes.

[taecalikook]

When the sea sleeps

summary : marriage should be based on love, but it’s not really the case with you and Seokjin. what’s more beneficial than two person who sworn off romances to get married out of obligation, right? but you should have known better, that keeping your heart straight from wanting someone like Kim Seokjin is next to impossible.

{fake marriage! au, strangers to lovers!au}

pairing : kim seokjin x reader

genre : major tooth rotting fluff, crack, smut(?)

word count : 23.720 (one-shot)

warning! mention of period and masturbation, daddy kink, big cock! seokjin, teasing, cock sucking, rough blowjob, deep throat, nipple play, oral (female receiving), riding, cum play, major fluffy love talk (?), dry hump, infidelity mentions, etc. ((omg))

“Hi, I am in the mart near our apartment. Anything you want?”

“Yes, please. I think we ran out of toothpaste and cleaning liquid. And can you get the usual donuts as well? Thank you.” Your husband replies meekly from the other side of the call. You hum in agreement, noting the order. 

“Will you be home soon?” You ask mundanely, a question based out of routinity instead of wanting an answer. Well, that’s just how it is with Seokjin.

“I don’t think so. Might have to stay late for work. You should head to bed first.”

“Okay, then. See you.” You nod and cut the call, shoving the phone to your pocket.

It’s been like this for the past two and a half years with Seokjin. Meeting him after being introduced by your mother, getting married after six months of vague dating, and then living rather as a roommate than husband and wife in your small apartment. Life has been good.

Well, it’s not like you are married for love.

Seokjin is 33 years old this year, and you are 31. Years ago, you weren’t really interested in marriage. You were fully capable of living on your own, not really interested in love and that’s about it. Even so, your mother never stopped sending you lists of men she’s going to introduce you to—but you quickly shut her off by busying yourself with work and all. 

Yet no matter how heartless you might be, seeing your mother crying her heart out before bed for god to give you a good husband and family, you finally caved and agreed to one blind date. She couldn’t be happier to give you the name of your suitor. 

Kim Seokjin. A 31 years old, living in his own apartment, working in a local bank as a manager. 

When you first heard about him, there’s no outstanding or over the top qualities he possessed, and probably that’s how you prefer him to be. Yet when you saw him first, there’s literally nothing else you preferred him to be.

“I’m sorry for this, but… I actually have no interest in marriage.”

He thought you would be slapping him across the face after saying such a ridiculous statement on the first meeting, yet when your face lightened up, he was not less than confused. 

“Me too! I only did this because of my mother.” You squealed in delight of finding the person that shares your pain. “I never intend to get married myself.” 

“God, I was scared you’ll take this the wrong way.” He finally sighed in relief, was afraid of offending you. “My mother, she is.. sick right now, and she has never stopped saying that she wants to see me married before she dies.”

“I understood that. And I’m sorry, I hope she’ll be fine soon.” You sincerely wished him well. As far as you were concerned, Seokjin looked like a great guy. He deserved better, anyway, and high chance he would be a good friend. It’s not often to see someone not too desperate to chase love after reaching your age.

After another hour talking about anything but yourself, Seokjin reaches out for the bill. “Are you up for desserts?” He asked with a thin smile, and you nod happily, thinking about the sweets you were about to consume.

That evening, when your mother asked what happened with the date, you told her that she shouldn’t expect more about Seokjin. Yet the day after, Seokjin messaged you asking for a second date, your mother was over the moon. And that was how you spent another six months in a vague relationship with Seokjin, where it seemed like both of you were serious, yet there’s no feelings attached. Seokjin was a best friend, and an outstanding listener, but that’s about it. 

One day, Seokjin asked about the idea of marrying you, whether you would detest the idea. And strangely, you didn’t. The week after, Saturday night you were just sitting in his apartment eating his homemade dishes, Seokjin asked whether you wanted him to marry you. After setting a few basic rules, and just like that you agree. 

That’s how you’ve been living with a bestfriend-like-husband.

Sex is absolutely off limit, and not that Seokjin has initiated it before. You are sleeping in the same bed, but Seokjin generously chooses the giant king bed that is rather disproportionate to the whole room to ensure both of you have personal space in bed. In the morning, Seokjin usually cooks, and you’ll take turns cleaning the apartment. You’ll water the small plants near the window, changing your bed sheet, and cleaning your wedding photo from dust. 

On Saturday or Sunday, both of you will have brunch together in the nearest cafe then lounge around watching netflix on your large TV. Once every month he’ll have a drink with fellow friends or you’ll meet up with your best friends, and meet with your parents or in-laws. 

Living with Seokjin is a series of routinity, and you actually don’t mind. Maybe you're already in the age when you are surreptitious, and had enough of surprises. 

After taking a long warm bath and getting inside your comfy sheets, you settle for a while in silence until a name comes up on your screen. Your mother-in-law is calling. You abruptly  rise to sit, pressing the green button. “Hi, mother. How are you doing?”

“I’m very great now listening to my precious daughter’s voice!” She gleefully squeals, strangely energized. You glance at the clock on your nightstand. It’s already ten. Now it reminds you Seokjin’s not home yet. “Seokjin’s father is having a birthday lunch this Saturday. You can come right? Do come by eleven, okay?” 

“Ah, I see. We will, mom.” You smile, internally noting the event to let Seokjin reserve his time. The talks then continue with your condition, whether you’re well or having sickness whatsoever—you know she actually means to ask if you’re going to give her a grandchild anytime soon. You answer demurely, not that it surprises you as your own mother has been going on and on and on about it as well. But how can you say that when you haven’t even kissed him more than five times in the past two and a half years?

But to think about it, Seokjin really has a great self-control if he really is not having an affair—for the lack of better terms—outside your marriage. Not that it would upset you whatsoever, it’s just not something you’d rather discuss with each other. Both of you agreed it would be okay to do whatever you both want, as long as you’re open to each other—but so far, nothing has implied otherwise. You somehow feel an urgency to talk about it, as you know Seokjin is a healthy man who must have his own needs as well—the one you can’t help with. 

After the call ends, Seokjin enters your bedroom at the same time, looking crumpled as ever. The top two buttons on his shirt are undone, face looks beyond exhaustion, and… the fly of his trousers is opened. You are unable to hold a sly smile.

“Are you tired?” You greet, and Seokjin nods, sighing deeply. 

“Today was pretty shitty. A client was being a jackass as per usual.” Seokjin throws his bag on the table, taking off his suit. “I think I’m going to take a long hot shower. You can sleep first.”

You hum. “Okay. I turned up the water heater, so you can go in now.”

“Thank you, Y/N. You’re a lifesaver.” Seokjin sighs in relief.

“You’re welcome. And Saturday, your father is having a birthday lunch and your mother asked us to come. Do arrange your schedule. And Seokjin?” You ask, and Seokjin looks up to you in confusion, waiting for you to continue.

“Your fly is open.”

“Fuck.” He curses and looks down, immediately zipping it close. “I hope I didn’t embarrass myself. And I swear it was nothing, I may have forgotten to close it in the restroom before going home.”

“It’s okay. You can do whatever you want, anyway.” You heartily giggle in amusement—with lots of subtle meaning behind words—settling back on your side of bed and hearing Seokjin softly closes the door behind him.

*

It’s already Friday, and somehow you still feel anxious. The day is closing soon, and tomorrow you’ll be meeting your in-laws for a family lunch, yet you are aware it’s not that simple. You have to pretend you have a real, conservative marriage with Seokjin, and it stresses you out. Not because you have to pretend to be in love—you’d rather think you’re relatively good at that, but having to lie to his parent’s face that Seokjin’s dick has ever entered you to get them a grandchild is nauseating.

“Why are you so tense, Y/N?” Hoseok chuckles, tapping your shoulder. “It’s Friday night. You should be all smiles.”

“Just meeting a few of my in-laws tomorrow. I’m a bit… nervous. That’s all.”

Jane who is sitting beside you immediately joins in. “Ah, that’s hard. My in-laws are jackasses, hence I’d rather steer clear from any family meetings. Why are you nervous? Are they annoying bastards as well?”

“No, they’re not like that.” You shake your head, confused on how to explain that you are not having a real marriage with Seokjin like most married couples. You’d rather not. “Well, I think I’m just having cold feet. That’s all.”

“You should come with us, then.” Hoseok offers with a whole ass large smile which shows his perfect teeth. “We’re having a drink tonight. No worry, we’re not going all the way to night. Just a slow one. You’ll be fine.”

That’s how you agreed to attend with a few of your peers, notably Hoseok and Jane who are your teammates, Namjoon from Legal, Jungkook from Accounting, and a few other friends you are only on name basis with. It surely started slow, and you gave Seokjin a short call before entering the bar. 

“Seokjin, hi. I’m out for drinks with friends, I’ll be a bit late, okay? But not too late though, only for two hours, three hours max.” You smile at Jungkook who is asking you to come. You gesture for him to enter before you. “I’ll give you a call when I’m done.”

“I see. Where are you drinking exactly?” He asks calmly. You quickly mention the name and address of the bar. “Okay. Let me know when you’ll be coming home, I’ll get you.”

“Ah, it’s okay! I think Hoseok or Jungkook can drive me home. No worry.”

“I see. Be safe, okay? And don’t get too hammered, we still have that lunch tomorrow.” Seokjin calmly reminds you. Probably due to the fact that you’re that quick to lose control, and the struggles he had to face on a regular basis to deal with drunk you.

Something inside you stirs at the remembrance of tomorrow’s event, but you quickly shrug it. You’re drinking to forget, anyway.  “Of course. See you!”

As it should’ve been easily predicted, you’re really loose with your alcohol control, especially with the great atmosphere and company. With Hoseok and Jane, one drink becomes two, and then four, and then in a blink, you lose count. You really should’ve predicted it, now drunkenly blabbering whatever inside your mind. Yet at once, you stumble on your seat and nearly fall until Jungkook catches you by the waist.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook checks up on you, staring at your blushing face, eyes hooded like completely feeling the alcohol dancing in your spine. “You look drunk, Y/N. Maybe you should cut the alcohol.”

“Yeah, I think I should.” You sigh, resting the glass back on the table. You rub your forehead. “I shouldn’t be drinking, since tomorrow I’m meeting my in-laws, and it’s.. fucking.. suck! You know why, Jungkook?” Jungkook shakes his head, amusement visible in his eyes while looking at you.

“Because they’ll keep asking about grandchildren.” You scoff. “They’ll keep wanting me to have a child, especially with the fact that Seokjin’s younger brother already has three of those. But how can I say it to them?”

“Why? Is there any reason you don’t want to have kids? Are you waiting?”

You hit the table with your fisted hand, aggrieved. “It’s not that. How can I when.. when.. I haven’t even had sex with my own husband?” 

“What?” Jungkook really couldn’t believe his ear. You have been married for more than two years and haven’t had sex with your husband? How is that even possible is beyond him. “Are you serious? Why?”

“Y/N.” 

Jungkook looks back at the source of the voice, finding Seokjin’s dark eyes looking at your figure, resting your head on the table. Jungkook immediately lets go of his hand on your skin. “Ah, sorry.”

“It’s okay. She must be drunk.” Seokjin sighs, circling his hands around your waist. Not that he didn’t expect it, but he feels extremely uncomfortable with the fact that someone else is aware of your little arrangement, especially with it being someone he doesn’t even know besides a name. “I’ll take her now. Here.” He says, slapping a few bills for your drinks.

Not even muttering goodbyes for Jungkook or other drunk people on the table, Seokjin instantly takes you back to his car. A minute of silence he’s staring at your face, Seokjin lightly flicks your head in annoyance before taking off, after ensuring you’re well secured on the passenger side.

*

“I’m sorry.”

The moment you’re awake, the memory instantly hits you like a truck inside your throbbing head. Constantly shoving drinks up your throat, dancing with Jane and Hoseok, and little talk with Jungkook. You also faintly make out Seokjin’s face getting you from the bar in your memory—right before passing out. God, it’s totally a mess. You really should avoid drinks again at all costs now.

“Are you awake?” Seokjin calmly asks while stirring breakfast on the pan. You nod, standing beside him. “The soup will be ready in a second. You can get our plates.”

Realizing that the talk is about to happen, you silently follow his order and prepare a few of the utensils on the table. You sit down to wait for Seokjin to join, and when he does, you are still waiting for him to open the conversation. In the midst of eating in silence, Seokjin suddenly breaks the silence.

“Do you want to have a child?”

Out of shock, you literally choke on your soup, the liquid entered the wrong pipe. Yet even when tapping your back lightly, he still has the nerves to laugh. 

“That’s not funny!” You scowl in annoyance, gulping the water Seokjin offered. Your husband is a total jerk, you really should’ve known.

“It is. And I really need to know, since last night you were talking to your friend about our sexless marriage in such a heart wrenching manner I just had to ask.”

You are silenced in guilt with the mention of last night, resting back the glass. “It’s not like that.” 

Seokjin cocks his head. “So what is it like?”

“No, I was just stressed about the fact that our families are pressuring us to have a child.” You sigh, never actually telling Seokjin about the pressure on your shoulder. “My mother even once asked me to consult with Obstetricians if my eggs are not working. Why didn’t she doubt your sperm instead?! Annoying.”

“Y/N. You really should’ve told me if my mother and yours has been pressing you to have a child.” Seokjin speaks in good nature, even with a hint of scolding. “I will let her know that it’s our decision, and we’ll have kids whenever we are ready.”

You nod. “Thank you. And I’m very sorry, by the way. Yesterday was a bit much, I know.”

“It’s fine.” He says, tapping the top of your head. “I’ll take a bath first, and we’ll go about an hour. Okay?”

And as predicted, the one that welcomes you and Seokjin even from far is Taehyun, Taehyung’s five years old eldest son. He runs with his two little feet with a light shout of glee until he clings to Seokjin’s thigh. “Auntie! Uncle! Hi!”

“Hi, Taehyun! How are you?!” Seokjin instantly takes him by the waist, bringing him up to his grasp and kisses his lumpy cheek. You are unable to hide a swooned smile. “Are you a smart boy now? Have you made friends in kindergarten?”

“Of course!” He squeals, and proceeds to tell him about his exciting kindergarten stories. You walk in, immediately welcomed by Tasha, Taehyung’s wife in a bear hug. “Sister-in-law! How are you doing? You look great.”

“I’m fine, Tasha, thanks.” You giggle in delight. You have always been close with Tasha, as she is a wonderful woman and a good friend as well. “You look amazing. And god, that hair is exquisite.”

Tasha laughs while sheepishly fixing her hair of light purple highlights. “Got a few dirty looks from my boss and Taehyung’s mother, but it’s all worth it I guess. Who said mother of three can’t rock highlights, right?”

“Absolutely!”

“You two beautiful ladies should come in.” Seokjin’s father beams at the two, gesturing to enter the house. “My wife has already prepared loads and loads of food, so I hope you’re hungry.”

“Happy birthday, father.” You smile, giving the old man a hug. “I hope this year is the best year that brings happiness to your life.”

“Well, a wish that this is not my last year in life is sufficient, but that is well welcomed as well.” He jokes, as the three of you enter the home. “Thanks anyway, Y/N. Greatly appreciated.”

“My granddaughters!” Your mother-in-law literally shouts, kissing you both on the cheek. “You both look amazing. My two sons should be thanking their lucky stars for having you both as a wife.”

“We are, mother. Every night.” Taehyung appears on your side, giving you a side hug of welcome. “How are you, sister-in-law? You’re doing great, right?”

“Amazing, Taehyung. Thank you for asking. I hope you’re well rested while taking care of the lovely miniatures of you.” You look at the three children, Taehyun, the twin Taejin and Taerin playing with their toys in the middle of the living room with your husband. 

“The sitter helps, of course.” Taehyung giggles, and Tasha elbows him with a scowl. Your mother quickly wraps the heart warming greetings and guides the whole family to be seated for the lunch prepared. And boy is the dining table packed with countless foods, not even including the dessert on the small table in the corner of the room. You just hope this won’t go to waste.

“No worries, we’ll be packing this as well to have it distributed to neighboring orphanages along with a few other donations.” Seokjin’s mother beams, sensing your worry after looking onto the countless plates.

An hour passes by quickly with the family digging on the delish in front of them. While chatting among themselves, Taehyung and Tasha hand their own gift to his father. “Here it is, father. Happy 65th birthday, hope you are always happy and healthy.” He beams, hugging his father. The large package is heavy on his hand, and your father in law laughs in glee.

It was a beautiful sight, yet you feel terribly uneasy. You haven’t gotten him anything, and Seokjin never discussed this before. How can you forget? God, you’ve really shame yourself and Seokjin in front of his family.

“What is this?” The old man questions and rips the wrapper.

“Open it.” Father quickly opens the package, and sees multiple items neatly stuffed in the box. “Healthy supplements and tea, warm jacket, acupuncture mat, few other things that can help you live longer.” Taehyung grins. The old man rolls his eyes, but nonetheless looks content with the gift.

“Thank you, son! Will put this into a good use.”

Amongst your panic of reaching out to Seokjin beside you, he instead takes turns in handing the gift of his own, an envelope, which catches you by surprise. He never talked about bringing a gift before. “This is from me and Y/N, father. Happy birthday.”

“What is this?” Your father curiously opens the envelope. At once, he literally squeals, unable to hide the delight in his face. “A two way ticket to Japan? Son, this is too much.”

“It’s not. It’s the least we can do for you and mother.” Seokjin says good-naturedly, like the precious son he is. You stare at him strangely. “Y/N and I also arranged a few stops that could be great to improve your health as well. No worries, there will be a guide as you’ll be on tour.”

“Thank you, son!” Your father and mother take turns hugging both you and Seokjin, and you only reply while in a hazen state, don’t know how or what to feel. As long as you know, it all comes from his pocket, and it’s his money to spend. You don’t even know why you feel weirded out. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Can you at least pretend my gifts are worthy too?” Taehyung jokes, shaking his head in faux disappointment. “The health supplements cost a fortune too, father! You’re being too mean with your reaction.”

“I’m just so happy my two sons are happy with their own family.” The old man beams in delight. “And your mother prepared a gift for you and Seokjin too, Y/N. Darling, you can give it to them, okay? I’m going to the restroom.”

“Why aren’t you giving it to me too?” Taehyung whines to his mother as Tasha elbows him for the nth time already. 

“You don’t get one because you don’t need it, Taehyung.” 

Seokjin’s mother quickly shoves you a gift with the largest of smiles, and truth to be told, you instantly feel uneasy. A gift in which you need and Taehyung don’t? An easy guess instantly comes to your senses. It must be it. There’s no other way.

“We’ll open this when we get home.” You turn your head to Seokjin, seeing how expressionless he has become. Is he angry? He swiftly takes the gift from you, resting it on the other side of the room.

“Ah, it’s good to. Just be careful using it, okay? It’ll be very helpful with the conception, trust me. It’s been passed down with generations.” Seokjin’s mother winks, looking very satisfied, yet you feel queasy, feeling like you’re soon puking your heart out. On your side, you can detect how silent Taehyung and Tasha have become, and you swear you never felt this pathetic and miserable before.

“Thank.. you.”

Seokjin holds you by the hand with his face is beyond enraged now—yet you know he could never be angry with his parents. He’s a mama's boy, and you like it that he is, but you really feel like going home and crying your heart out. But you have to endure longer hours feeling like total shit with your in-laws around.

“Father, mother, Y/N and I had to go home. I just remember we had stuff to do at home.” Seokjin curtly says, and you whip your head at him in surprise. You mostly did not expect it. 

“Why? You don’t really have to do it right now—but if you really have to, it’s okay.” Your mother giggles, content with the idea that you and your husband need to leave because both of you are going to fuck and give them grandchildren. God, your head literally throbs with the misunderstanding.

“Y/N, get to the car.” Seokjin mutters tensely, there is not a hint of emotion beside morse in his tone. “Mom, can we talk?”

“Seokjin, no.” You whisper while tugging on his sleeve. “Don’t do it.”

“Y/N, get to the car.” He repeats, like he is not up for any negotiation. You are scared of what he’s going to say to his mother. Is he going to say about the fact that your marriage is faux and is only done to please her? But that’s not what you want, just thinking about it makes you sick. “You can leave the gift here.”

Mildly confused at the sudden tense situation, your mother-in-law silently nods and complies to talk with her son. Against his order, you pick up the gift and move to give Taehyung, Tasha and their three children a parting hug. 

“Hey, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Tasha worriedly says, and you nod with a strained smile. “Be safe in driving home.”

“We will. Taehyung, thanks.” You hug the pouting guy, as he gives you a squeezing hug of consolation. 

“Our parents can be prodding like that. I am very sorry.”

Walking back into the room finding the confusing tense, Seokjin’s father looks at you about to say goodbye. “Are you leaving?” 

“Yes. I’m afraid we have something coming up.” You forced a smile, yet you know your father-in-law completely understands the whole situation.

“Okay then. Give this old man a parting hug.” The kind man then hugs you dearly like you’re a daughter he never had. “Thank you for coming. And I’m very sorry.”

“It’s nothing! Everything is great.” Like an idiot, you still try to lie through your teeth in front of the wise man—it’s ridiculous. “Happy birthday, father.”

Walking inside Seokjin’s car, you patiently wait another ten minutes until he comes in with an unreadable expression. And when he sits beside you, he heave a deep breath. 

“Is everything okay? What did you say?” You fret in panic.

“Nothing much. That it’s already tough for both of us now, and we’ll have kids whenever we want to.” Seokjin hums, glancing at the gift his mother gave yet refusing to comment. “I’m very sorry that I haven’t realized this before. I know it must be stressing you out.”

“Not really. I’m just.. tired.” You hollowly laugh, Seokjin slowly taking off the house onto the street. Spending a few minutes staring at the gift secured on your lap, you mutter—more to yourself. 

“Do you think we should just have a child?” 

At the unexpected question, Seokjin glances at you. Next five minutes are spent in deep silence before...

“Do you love me?”

The questions really create a ripple of shock in your whole body. You literally have no idea whether he’s being serious or not.

“W-what?”

“I don’t want to have a child when both of us know there is no love here. We both don’t love each other.” Seokjin mutters lowly, eyes trained on the road. “Let’s not put more innocent people into misery.”

Misery.

Misery.

You don’t know why that word hurts more than you thought it would, coming out from Seokjin’s mouth.

*

As expected, the things between you and Seokjin have become pretty frosty. Sunday morning, he excused himself to go fishing with Yoongi—his best friend of ten years, and you were thankful that you do not have to waste another second in his presence. Being with him is hard enough, not that you have to be reminded of the hurtful things he said.

Misery.

Yes, misery indeed. Having to marry someone you don’t have feelings for. 

But you thought he was a friend. Not that you chained him into this, and he was the one asking your hand in loveless marriage. He is being a total jackass. And you never should’ve said such nonsense. Having a child with someone you don’t love? Seriously? Even couples in love can end up in divorce because of kids—much less your ridiculous marriage.

And it sucks that this suffocates your whole being yet you can’t tell anyone, since nobody really knows you don’t have any attachment to your husband.

Well, beside...

“Hello? Is this Y/N?”

Listening to the velvety voice on the other side of the call, you instinctively gulp. Are you seriously going to talk to someone about this, more less Jeon Jungkook? You must be quite desperate. “Hi, Jungkook! I’m sorry to interrupt you. Is this.. an alright time?”

Jungkook chuckles on the other side. “Well, not really, but I can make it alright for you.”

You groan, instantly retracting your own will to talk about it to him. “You seriously did not just flirt with a married woman, right?”

“Of course not! Who do you take I am.” He giggles in mirth, and you roll your eyes. You really made a mistake by calling him. “I’m a bit busy now, but will be free in around… an hour. Do you want to meet?”

“I didn’t exactly say what I wanted to ask for.”

“I just know.” Jungkook hums, and you literally can imagine his annoying smirk on the other side of the call. “I’ll text you the details.”

You spend another seconds in silence, but reply nonetheless. There’s no harm in meeting a friend. Right? 

“Sure.”

*

“So let me get this straight. You—in this advanced, 21st century—agreed to a marriage where the both of you don’t even have little bit of interest in marriage? And all because your parents want you to?”

Now that Jungkook is saying it in front of your face, it does sound foolish.

“Is it.. weird?”

“What the fuck, Y/N. It’s not just weird. It’s crazy.” Jungkook scoffs, feeling the firsthand headache of dealing with the situation you are currently in. “I don’t know how much of a good daughter you are, but this is nuts. You are seriously chaining yourself to a relationship just out of pity, and because of someone else. You know that phrase ‘having only love is not enough in marriage’? You don’t even have that.”

Your eyebrows furrow, quite dejected that Jungkook really has to phrase it like that. The urge to defend yourself rushes unto you. “Yes, I know what we are doing now is silly, but I actually have no regret. Seokjin is a great guy, a good companion as well, and it’s basically just a living arrangement. I’m good.”

He sighs at your stubbornness. “You know, you could’ve been with someone else that you truly love. Did you realize that?”

“I won’t.” You answer almost instantly, doting the cheesecake in the middle of your table. “I’m not interested. I am living well on my own, and I don’t really think I have anyone for me. I am comfortable with myself.”

“And why’d you trade that precious solitude of yours with someone you don’t even love?” Jungkook challenges, and you take a deep breath to calm yourself.

“Because if that’s how I can make someone else happy, I would.” You answer, looking back at Jungkook’s prodding eyes. “My mother, my father, have taken care of problematic me since I was a little kid. And now all they wanted is for me to have someone that cares for me, and who I deeply care for. And if getting married is the only way they can live and die happily… I’d do anything.”

Jungkook is easily silenced at your unexpected outburst, but it feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulder after saying what you truly feel to someone else. It feels almost relieving, the fog living in your shoulder lightens.

“But you know they’d truly be disappointed if you are lying to them, right? Lying that you are happy. Lying that you love your husband.” He observes you in concern. You smile lopsidedly.

“Well, maybe in my case, a little white lie won’t hurt.” You whisper to yourself, sipping on your beverage.

*

After hanging out a bit longer with Jungkook, you found yourself comfortable being around him. He is a great guy, albeit annoying and too curious for his own good, he is nice and easy to talk to. You were never really close to him, and usually a rather closed person, but Jungkook is too good at getting you out of your shell. 

Walking out from his car, you are stunned when finding Seokjin is also getting out of his own, about to enter your apartment building. He mirrors your expression, a paper bag filled with foods and in his right grasp is his favorite donuts box. 

“Hi.” He greets with cocked eyebrows. “I bought meat to cook for dinner.”

“Ah, I already ate dinner.” You guiltily scratch your nape, glancing to the car beside you. Jungkook is just about to drop you off, but you have no idea why he is not leaving yet. “You went home from Yoongi’s?”

“Yes.” Seokjin points to the car. “Who is it? Did you meet with friends?”

“Yes. I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you. But he’s just about to leave—”

“Hi man.” Jungkook is somehow already standing right beside you as you flinch in your spot, and he offers his hand. “I guess I never properly introduced myself. I’m Jungkook, Y/N’s workmate.”

“Ah, Jungkook. We met before, right? I am sorry, yesterday was quite chaotic, I haven’t properly introduced myself.” Jin smiles benevolently, shaking the younger man’s hand. “I’m Seokjin, the husband. Do you want to come in? I’m cooking steak for dinner.”

“Nah, I already had dinner with Y/N. But I’ll take you up on that, though. Let’s get dinner another time.” Jungkook agrees, and gives you a light tap in the back as a goodbye. “Got to go, but I’ll see you Monday!”

“Bye, Jungkook.” You reply meekly and turn back to Seokjin, staring back at you with a strange expression. “Are you good?”

“Yup.” Seokjin smiles impartially, shifting his expression. “Let’s get in, you’ll catch a cold.”

*

In a way, Seokjin realizes that something changes with you ever since coming back from his father’s birthday party. You were usually a chirpy, active person, unbothered to speak your mind, talking about Hoseok or your patronizing boss and made the apartment as loud as possible with your late night exercise—yet here you are, silently sitting down on your side of bed, watching your favorite series from phone. 

And you clearly stated how you hate watching with your phone that he knows you are avoiding him—not wanting him to join watching it with you in the living room. And what irks him is this passive aggressive thing has been going on since last week, and it’s already Thursday. He desperately needs the old you back.

“Why are you watching it on the phone?” Seokjin asks, a vague irritation slipped in his tone. “The TV is good to watch. And you hate watching it on the phone.”

You are confused to say the least, blinking your eyes at him. Your finger pauses the show. He remembers that? “Uh.. I’m just… feeling like laying in bed while watching. Is there something wrong?”

“No, don’t lie to yourself now. You are clearly avoiding me.” Seokjin hisses, unable to hide anymore of his annoyance. “And this has been going on for a week. You didn’t even let me know if you’re coming home, and rejected that one time I said I’ll get you from the office. What’s wrong?”

“I told you it’s nothing. My work is the opposite direction of your way to home. It’ll be easier to go home directly.” You reason stubbornly, trying to make sense—even if you know you really are avoiding him. You don’t want to let him know that you are hurt by the things he said, and to be frank, looking at him pissess you off a bit. Like right now.

“Y/N, you know that we are too old for this shit. You need to tell me right now if I did something wrong.” He states earnestly. You roll your eyes, not feeling to drag the conversation and position yourself back to watching.

“You did nothing wrong. It’s just me, maybe I’m going on menopause.”

Seokjin huffs, looking at you already settling back to watching—yet he is too determined to end all this bullshit that he discards the phone you’re watching onto the bed. You gape at him, dumbfounded that he really did that to get your serious attention. “Stop being a child and talk to me like adults.” He scowls.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! I told you It’s nothing.” You shout, trying to get your phone back yet missing due to Seokjin’s quick wit of taking and hanging it far above his head. And poor you, that are seriously no match to his height.

“Give me back my phone, you jerk!”

“Might be a jerk but at least I’m not a 30 years old woman having menopause.” He mocks your nonsense, yet you are too resentful to give a shit that you literally climb on bed and jump to leech your whole weight on him like a freaking koala. Seokjin literally yells at your attempt of getting stable by clutching on his hair, pulling it to whichever direction you prefer. “Ah, get off me! It hurts and you’re heavy!”

“I don’t care! You’re being a jerk, and I’m a misery anyway, right? I’m just fulfilling my duties!” You howl, shaking your body that he shrieks, losing his balance and falls on your large bed. And like how most sleazy cringy telenovela, he just had to settle on top of you, but for one teeny different, his whole weight is now crushing your being like a sweet revenge. 

“Get off me! You’re heavy.” You screech like a petulant child, punching the guy on his broad ass shoulder. After a whole minute of finally begging him to get off, Seokjin finally gets on his elbow, giving a bit of space for you to breathe.

“I apologize that I upset you.” He gazes at you in all sincerity that literally leaves you holding your breath. “It was not true when I said that misery thing. You are not a misery. You are a blessing. The fact that we are married could be the greatest thing that happens to me, and I’ll never trade it for anything else.”

You are silenced, waiting for him to continue. “I was just pissed off with myself that I was insensitive about how everyone is pressuring you, and you are struggling because of this. I actually never thought about those snarks, and I thought you would too.” Seokjin softly claims, and you are near to tears that he literally speaks like honey. “I just thought it was off limits. I guess we should’ve talked more about this before.”

You sigh, looking down. “I do think so. And I’m sorry too—I guess I should’ve just said what’s bothering my mind.” You breathe out with a hint of guilt. “I’m sorry for acting like this. I guess that misery thing just got to me more than I thought it would, and.. yeah. Let’s communicate better.”

“We should.” He hums in delight. “You are cuter when you are less grumpy. You know that?”

“I am cute in any way possible.” You sassily reply, expecting a snarky comment as retaliation yet Seokjin’s lips curl in amusement.

“Well, I can’t comment on that.” He beams, and at that  your heart literally skips a beat. or two. or more than you can count. “I want to watch what you’re watching. Let’s watch it on the TV, your eyes must be hurting doing all these grumpy behavior.”

“Yeah, I do think so. It’s like.. exhausting.” You rub your temple. “I hate being crabby.”

“Yes. It doesn’t suit you. At all.” Seokjin pulls both your cheeks in different directions with sparkling eyes. You groan. “So don’t do that to your husband, okay?”

At that, you peer at him silently while he’s searching the series you love on the TV. The way he is able to easily soothe you is.. pissing you off.

“By the way, a new movie is premiering next week and I bought us a ticket. Wanna watch it with me?” He turns to you, still with the same adorable smile. And it literally sucks that something weakens inside you at that smile.

Ugh, there’s gotta be something wrong with you.

*

Another week goes and there you are, Thursday night about to head out after a whole day of work. Tidying your desk, suddenly a voice stops your wandering mind—it belongs to your desk mate.

“Why are you so happy today? You’re all whistling and it starts creeping me out.” Hoseok snickers, suddenly peering close to you. “Did you get a good dick down yesterday?”

“What the hell, Hoseok?” You groan, closing your laptop with a loud thump. “It’s not it. Can’t a girl just be happy without any reason?”

“No. That means you're crazy. And it’s coming from Y/N, the grumpies person on the planet.” Jane titters, joining your conversation. You started to doubt what kind of connection they had whenever it concerns you. “You must had a good sex yesterday. You know, I am curious on how Seokjin is in bed. Is he a bit dom? Looks a bit kinky, I have to say.”

“Of course! The way he acts is a complete giveaway, he must have a choking kink, or maybe bondage. Daddy kink is absolutely, by default.” Hoseok responds with curiosity. Jane snickers as you are busy gasping for air.

“And his dick?! You know, the first time I saw him, I immediately knew this guy has a big dick energy. I bet his is girthy—”

“Shut up!” You literally stop her from speaking, your palm secured to close on her mouth—yet unable to manage the blush weeping your whole face to neck. You feel hot and bothered. “Stop talking about such things! I am just in a good mood. Ugh, you two are seriously perverts.”

“Yes, okay, we’ll stop before you burst your flaming ear.” Hoseok singsongs, utterly amused by your reaction. You shot him a look. “By the way, tomorrow is a long weekend. Do you both have any plans?”

“Besides taking care of my child? Nah, bro. Might have sex if he’s lucky and stop running his mouth too much. And we had to stay in my husband’s family house. Ugh.” Jane rolls her eyes whilst taking her own belongings. “I’m just happy we get to have dinner tonight. Tomorrow is going to be exhausting as fuck.”

“Dinner? What dinner?” You are weirded out, most absolutely did not expect to promise any dinner. 

“My birthday dinner, of course!”

You whip your head towards the guy in a fancy red suit, completely looking dashing and silly at the same time. Well, that’s what you expect of him anyway, wearing such eye catching outfit in the middle of workday. “I sent the invites this Monday, and you said yes, Y/N.” He continues. “And you didn’t even congratulate me! How mean. But I’ll let you off since you’re cute.”

“But—but, I can’t! I have something else to do..” You stutter. Jungkook furrows his eyebrows at you.

“What? Watching netflix and eating popcorn? Nah, bro. You’re coming.”

“But, I’m serious! I’m sorry, but Seokjin is already downstairs, and he’s waiting for me. I can’t.. just leave him behind.” You weren’t going to say this, but Seokjin said he was craving lobster and asked you to go on a dinner with him. You really didn’t remember you had agreed to an appointment before with your workmate.

Jungkook stares at you in mild surprise. “He’s in the lobby? What happened with the two of you? I thought—”

“What are you saying, Jungkook? Isn’t it normal for a husband to get her wife from work?” Hoseok chuckles, and at once Jungkook is like awakened from his hallucination. 

“Yes, of course. My bad.” He nervously chuckles, avoiding Hoseok’s eyes. “But he should come! It’s only going to be the four of us, and Namjoon. He’s waiting in the lobby too.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a great idea…”

“Seokjin should come! It would be fun, you know. I want to have dinner with him.” Jane smirks, and you sigh loudly, knowing that this would end in a huge disaster and you’ll end up regretting. Yet you find yourself thinking of what to say to Seokjin. 

“Hi, Seokjin!”

Seokjin opens his window, smiling courtesy at Jane standing beside you. You remember Seokjin met few of your friends from work before. “Hi, Jane! Nice seeing you again. Are you heading home?”

“Not really. We are going to a restaurant! With Y/N too. You should come.”

He laughs, glancing at you. “Really? You didn’t say you had something to do.”

“I’m sorry, I forgot.” You frown in guilt. “It’s okay, I know we had plans—”

“No, I didn’t say that. We can come to the dinner with your friends too, if you want.” Seokjin chuckles, smiling dearly at you. You feel your breath hasten under his ministry. “Do you want that?”

Clearing your throat, you answer in nerves. “Yes, please. I promised to attend before, I guess I just forgot and thought I am free tonight.”

“Ah, I guess that’s why you’re all sooo chirpy today, aren’t you, Y/N?! I thought your teeth were about to fall off.” Jane beams, exhilarated as she elbows you. “Turns out you have a special occasion with your husband and forgot Jungkook’s birthday dinner.”

“That’s not it.” You glare at her, but she shrugs meaningfully.

“Okay, you two should head out. I’m with Hoseok.” Jane smiles and points at the blue car which you identify as Hoseok’s. “See you guys in a few minutes!”

“Sure.”

There is only silence in the car, when suddenly Seokjin breaks it with a question.

“Is it for Jungkook? That Jungkook—your friend that we met on our apartment?”

You don’t know what’s wrong, but your gut is telling you something is strange with his tone. You clear your throat of sheer awkwardness. “Yes. Today is his birthday, so he said he’d treat us to dinner.”

Seokjin seems uncomfortable. Living together for nearly two years has made you well aware of his small habit and gestures—by the way he clings on his collar, fingers tightening on the wheel as if he’s scared just shows you how he truly feels. At once, you quickly rests your palm on his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “Are you okay? You look.. nervous. We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

Waiting for the red light, he heaves a deep breath and closes his eyes. His right hand settles on your hands which were on his shoulder, linking each finger. “I’m fine.” Seokjin sighs deeply, resting both your linked fingers on his thigh. 

“I’m fine.” He repeats.

Now all you can hear is your own irregular heartbeat, with his warm palms against yours. 

And you wonder. What the hell is wrong with yourself?

After arriving, Seokjin still doesn’t let your hand go. And it’s all kinds of confusing, two years of marriage he never acts like now. Not even when going to your parents house, and it leaves you with numerous questions. And with that particular look on his face—it scares the shit out of you.

“Ah, here comes the couple!” Jane giggles, pointing to the empty seats beside her. “You can sit here. Seokjin, meet Namjoon! He’s in Legal.”

Like that, all your friends are engaged in a conversation—while Seokjin, he’s sitting silently with heads hanging low. You glance at him, concerned. “Hey, are you okay? You look a bit off. Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Yes, your husband looks like he’s not really good. Is there anything wrong?” It is Jungkook, resting his wine back on the table. All of the eyes are now on the both of you. “Does this not work for you?”

“No, I’m sorry. Just a bit on the edge, that’s why. Don’t worry.” Seokjin smiles thinly, tapping his palm on the table. You nod hesitantly, regardless of the strangely tense air with him.

Whilst ordering, you are skimming on the menu when Jungkook jumps in. “Y/N, you like the shrimp here, right? You should order it.”

“Yes, I am thinking that too.” You tap your chin, and turn to Seokjin who is still staring far at the menu. “But I want to try the duck too. Seokjin, can’t you order that too? I don’t want to eat too much, I just want to have a bite.”

Seokjin is about to answer when Jungkook jovially interrupts, “Hey, there’s no need for that. You can order all you want. But if you insist, I’m ordering the duck, so you can have mine.”

“It’s okay, I’m having what my wife asked me to. Since I’m her husband. ” Seokjin curtly responds, and you are flabbergasted at how discourteous he sounded. The conversations on the table ended abruptly. 

“I—I see. Suit.. yourself.” Jungkook blinks his eyes, completely bewildered at the hostile response. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be forward.”

You stare at him with multiple emotions rushing inside of you, yet he’s evidently trying to avoid it while shoving drinks down his throat like there’s no tomorrow. 

“You’re driving tonight.” Seokjin mutters to you between drinks, and it sounds more like an order to your ear. There’s definitely something off with him, and you’re terrified of finding out. You’re scared if it will change him, you, and what you both had together.

*

“Are you going to be okay?”

Jungkook glances in concern at your drunk husband beside you, his hand is at the top of your car while you’re on the driver side. “He’s drunk. You sure you’re going to be okay? I can come with you.”

“No, it’s fine.” You reply. “I think he’s just not in a mood today. There must be something at work, I’ll try asking this tomorrow.”

“But I don’t like how jealous he was at me. I was just.. trying to be kind and offer to help. As a friend. And he immediately snaps like that.” Jungkook scowls in irritation. “It was borderline obsessive. And it’s not like you married for love—”

“Jungkook.” You stop him with reprimanding eyes that he stops immediately. 

“I’m sorry.” He lets out a deep breath. “I never told you—or anyone about this, but my sister is a divorcee. Because her husband became obsessed with her.” You know where he is heading and are about to rebut, yet he continues. “I know what you want to say, but I’m just saying this so you’d know. They were in love. But you know it could easily turn to something else.”

“Thank you for your advice, but I know it won’t happen to me—Seokjin is not like that.” You mumble, somehow reminding yourself. It’s the first time Seokjin is like this, both of you were great at keeping boundaries, and were not even in love. You’ll be fine.

Jungkook sighs and smiles weakly, brushing the top of your head. 

“I hope so too. Get home safe, kid.”

*

Waking up, the first thing Seokjin feels is his pulsate, a straight pang to his head. It’s been a long time since he had let himself off the limit and trashed himself until he blacked out, and he regrets every single second. The hazy memory starts to invade his mind—about how rude he had been yesterday, especially to you—and it literally freaks him out that he jumps out of his bed, desperate to explain. But you are not sleeping beside him. Or anywhere in the apartment. 

“Fuck.” Seokjin hisses, bringing his phone and runs to the elevator in such hurries. 

Are you... possibly gone?

“Seokjin, what are you doing here?”

“Y/N. Where have you been?” He questions, a little bit loud.  He’s too caught tapping the elevator button that he doesn’t realize the other lift is opened with you walking out, soaking with sweat. “I wake up and you’re not there. You.. I thought you..”

“What did you think? I was just running a few laps since yesterday’s dinner was a bit much.” You shrug nonchalantly, taking off your earphone. “Aren’t you dizzy after waking up? You shouldn’t be out, though.”

Walking back to your apartment, Seokjin is trailing behind you like a disgruntled puppy—keeping his head down low as both his hands are clasped. “I’m very very sorry, Y/N..”

“What are you sorry for?” You ask, pretending nonchalance. Seokjin sits beside you with a frown on his face. 

“I was being a jerk yesterday? And I drank too much and you must have a hard time dealing with my sorry ass.” 

“Did anything happen? Can I know why you were so pissed off?” You ask carefully, afraid of invading his space. He shrugs.

“Something bothered my mind, that's all. Don’t worry about it.”

Seeing how sullen he has been with himself, you are unable to pull both his chubby cheeks to different directions. He groans loudly with each pull. “Yes, you were such a ill-tempered baby yesterday when you were drunk. Do you know that?”

He nods begrudgingly. “Yes, mother. I won’t do it again.”

“But apologizing isn’t going to solve anything. You know it.” You pretend sulk. “I think I deserve three wishes.”

Seokjin cocks his eyebrows. “Why? Why does it have to be three?” 

“Nah, I watched Alladin and it was good, so I was just copying—but that’s not the point!” You tap the table impatiently. “The point is that you embarrassed me in front of my friend and deserves a punishment. Now say yes to my three wishes.”

Your husband groans, tapping on his forehead. “God, I’m never drinking again. What? What is it that you want?”

“I haven’t really thought about it, actually..” You giggle while scratching your head. Seokjin squint his eyes at you in suspicion. “Can you give me a week to think about it?”

“No.”

“Five days?”

“Right now. Take it or leave it.”

“Okay, by tomorrow!”

“Three wishes all by the end of this day.”

“Fine! You are annoying.” You scowl, tapping your forefinger on your chin. Seokjin grins. “First, I want…lobster for lunch.” 

“Okay.” He holds the laughter upon remembering his yesterday’s request.

“And I want this new bag. I saw it on the newest catalogue yesterday, I want one. Buy it for me.” You send him a sugary smile.

“I see your wishes are getting more and more disproportionate.” 

You scoff. “But you promised to grant it!”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to grant it.” Seokjin rolls his eyes, resting his palm on your shoulder, skimming it until his finger hangs to yours. Your breath hitches at how it practically tickles your whole being. “Is that all? Are you saving one for now?”

“Y-yes.” You stutter, mind already turning blank that you forgot your last wish.

“Good.” Seokjin beams, swiping his thumb on your knuckles. You stare through his eyes, adoring the beautiful twinkle that sends butterflies knocking on your stomach. How could he affect you like this?

W-wait, are you hallucinating or he is really closing in right now? I-is he.. about to kiss you?

Against your expectation, he suddenly halts and snorts. “Now go take a bath, because you stink.”

You push him away, walking to enter your bathroom with a face that has gone vermillion red—especially listening to his annoying squeaky laughter from the living room. You feel terribly embarrassed. 

Did you really think he’s about to kiss you? And why the fuck do you have to act like a preteen girl having a crush on a classmate? This is literally super annoying how your body is acting strange—like you don’t even have control.

Ugh, you should never done anything dangerous with him again.

*

After having lunch in the lobster place, you and Seokjin drive to the cinema for the movie he pre-ordered last week. Sitting side by side with him, you find yourself hesitating. 

You want to hold his hand so damn much.

And this never happened to you before. Watching with him always ends up with both of you pretending to fight for the popcorn, and you’ll be far apart from each other—just like you’re watching alone. The movie’s genre is thriller and suspense, yet horror didn’t even take it for you to finally lean into him or anyone, yet that evening, you want to hold him. 

Closing in, you feel his shoulder closing on yours, leaning onto him as support. Seokjin looks at you in concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Y-yes! I’m fine, I just—“

“Is this movie boring for you? Or are you cold? You want more popcorn or drink?” He queries in concern at your jumpiness.

“No.” You murmur, embarrassed at your own thought. Fuck, what were you thinking? There is no possible reason at all on why you want to hold him, it’s not making any sense and it irks you on how conflicted you’re feeling. “I just… nothing.”

Glancing at you, Seokjin sees how you’re mouthing to yourself and hitting your own forehead with a deep frown—and he couldn’t bite his smile back. With one fluid motion, he loops his arms with yours and withers your small palm against his, tapping slightly the side of his head with yours. 

“Let me know if you need anything else. Hmm?”

You blush hard, the creep of warmth running in your cheek like a wildfire. Clearing your throat, you decide to focus on whatever scene it is, not realizing how Seokjin glances at you from time to time, a toothy smile creeping in his face.

Walking out of the place, you were a bit panicked on seeing Seokjin again in broad light, but he’s still not letting go of your hands around his. You don’t know whether it’s a good sign or not—maybe you’re just afraid of finding out.

“Do you want to go window shopping? Maybe you’ll find that bag you want.” Seokjin offers, you are about to discard him—telling who the hell is still window shopping these days, or your desired bag is already on your online shopping cart, yet you don’t want to say so.

Maybe you just want to be with him a little bit longer.

Walking hand in hand to around the mall, both of you stop at the high end brand stores. Seokjin is about to walk in when you stop him. “Why are we entering this place? This is out of our budget.”

“Who said I want to buy you the bag from here? I want to see it for myself.” Seokjin lightly jokes, blowing raspberries and you scowl. Contrary to what he just said, Seokjin is directing you to the female side, where the tote bags are stacked. You laugh silently. Is he trying to be a tsundere now?

He looks at you and warmly smile. “See if there’s anything you like. I’m going to the restroom first, okay?”

You squint your eyes at him in fake suspicion. “You’re not leaving me here and fleeing home, right?”

“Busted.” He giggles and you grin. “Wait here, I’ll come back in a minute.”

After Seokjin leaves, you find yourself walking to see the bags in hesitance. Yet you know how expensive they are, and it even scares you to fall in love with a bag and realizing how struggling Seokjin has to be to buy it for you. The thought immediately retrains you from taking the tawny colored bag which catches your eyes the most.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

You look back at the voice calling your name, and finding the person that hasn't even crossed your mind to be there. It’s Park Jimin, with his trademark eye smile peering curiously at you. “It is you! How have you been?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” You smile at him, a little bit surprised to see him here, even talking to you. Well, maybe the years of your troubling childhood does have its own reminder in the form of this man. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“Ah, yes. After moving from Busan to Seoul, I am just living my life, I guess. Got engaged a few years ago, my fiancé and I moved to Sydney for school, and I headed back for the time being for her.” He smiles jovially, letting you know things more than you expect him to. You nod with a hint of hesitation—a bit surprised that he’s still practically the same him from your childhood. Guess nothing really changes to a spoilt kid from birth. 

“Honey, I have five items already on the cashier, won’t you—who is this?”

The woman is peering closely at you, the evident staring feels deadly uncomfortable on your skin. You know that look—she is judging you from top to bottom, whether you qualify as someone she should feel competitive with. But you don’t really want to spoil your great mood from the morning and reply nonetheless. “I’m Y/N, an old friend of Jimin. Nice to meet you.”

“Hi.” She responds rudely, and turns to Jimin. “Aren’t we going after paying?”

“Wait, I still want to talk with her. You can use this.” Jimin opens up his wallet, giving her a card and she leaves almost immediately. “I’m sorry, she can be like that sometimes.”

You shrug nonetheless. “I can see that.”

Ignoring your obvious sarcasm, Jimin continues. “So, where are you going? Do you want to have dinner with us? We should meet up again sometimes, you know—“

“Y/N.”

Turning to the man calling your name, it turns out to be your husband, staring at the both of you with jaw ticked and cold stare. And Jimin is no different, completely startled with the fact that it is Seokjin calling your name. At once, you feel estranged with the tense in the air.

“Seokjin. Hi, this is Jimin, my old friend. Jimin, this is Seokjin, my husband.”

Seokjin is the one to answer, tone blunt. “I know.”

After long pregnant silence, Jimin clears his throat, and gives your husband a thin smile. “Hi Seokjin. Nice to see you again.”

“You two know each other?” You glance at both men with curiosity written in your face.

“Yes, Jimin was my junior in college. We were friends.” Seokjin answers with venom, and nobody can miss the way he pronounced the past tense. Jimin seems uncomfortable as well, trying to ignore the older guy and smiles at you.

“I didn’t know you’re married. When was the wedding? Why wasn’t I invited?” He laughs to discard the tense air, yet you can still sense the awkwardness coloring his tone.

“Ah, around two years ago, I think. My mother gave yours the invitation, but I guess it doesn’t work. It’s fine.” You shrug, keeping your courtesy no matter how much you want to shout what the fuck is going on with those two men.

“I am sorry, but I’ll send a gift your way. It’s very impolite of us.” Jimin offers kindly, but Seokjin cuts straight away.

“We don’t need it. Save your money to whom it belongs.”

You glare at Seokjin who is throwing his sight somewhere else. He never was impolite like this, and it stresses you out—the fact that you’re kept in the dark makes you feel like you’re basically second to nothing between the two of them. 

“Seokjin? Is that you?”

Jimin’s fiancé comes back with countless bags in her hand, and you can hear the loud enough snicker from Seokjin. “Ah, as expected.”

The girl looks surprised, to say the least. “What are you doing here? With her? Who is this girl?” 

At the condescending tone, you immediately turn defensive. She had no reason to talk to you and Seokjin like that. “Excuse me?” 

“Baby, don’t be like that. Y/N here is Seokjin’s wife.” Jimin murmurs softly to his fiancé, and the bitch still has the nerves to scoff with a sleazy smirk.

“Ah, finally. I am glad you finally got your shit together, stopped thinking about me and moved on.” She loops her hand around Jimin, rising her chin high. Your jaws are a second away from falling to the ground. What the hell is going on?! “And are you sure you can go here? Isn’t this too expensive for you?”

“What the fuck—”

You are ready to throw hands, but Jimin quickly pulls her away and so is Seokjin’s hands clasped on yours to hold you back. 

“Stop it. Let’s just go home.”

Hanging his head low, both of you walk to the parking lot in deafening silence. Seokjin’s face is now cloudy and dark, nose and eyes are turned red and you know he is this close to crying. You chest stings at how much in pain he seems. You have so many questions, yet you know he needs more time to figure out his own.

Trying to reach the car keys from his pocket, he can’t seem to find it and somehow ends up choking his own tears. Feeling terrible on how he must feel, you go to his side, helping him check his other pocket. “I’ll drive.” You softly say to him after, and he silently goes to the passenger side.

Night comes, and you stare at your bedroom door. Seokjin has been holed up inside the room after you both went home, and did not come out even for a drink. You knew he needed space, and you stayed in the living room to watch your series, but it’s been too long that you are on alert since this has never quite happened before.

You wake up from your seat, walking to the kitchen as you are about to prepare dinner. Mushing up your doubtful cooking skill, you cook a chicken pasta and union ring, even called his favorite donuts on delivery.

After all the food is ready, you knock on the door. “Seokjin, dinner is ready. Come out, will you?”

“I am not really hungry.” He answers softly, and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t kid me, we both know you are never not hungry.” Your joke is met with no response. “Are you really going to be like this? Come out and let’s have dinner. I already cooked for us.”

A moment of silence. “Are you sure it’s edible?”

You scowl, albeit kind of relieved that his sarcasm is still in place. “It’s not, but I’m still going to shove it down your throat until you’re begging me to stop.”

Seokjin ends up coming out, and you immediately frown at him. His face is disheveled, eyes bloodshot red, trail of tears on both his cheek and his hair is all over the place. 

“Hey, you look ugly.”

He scoffs. “Thank you for the encouragement.”

“I am serious! You look uglier than that time we went to Bali and you shit yourself because of eating too much spices.” You giggle, and Seokjin hisses. Your way of consoling people is indeed very debatable. 

“I remembered Bali. Such a great time.” Regardless, Seokjin smiles fondly at the memory. It was for your honeymoon slash not really a honeymoon, since all you did was to spend your work’s wedding free leave. You and Seokjin registered for Bali’s backpacker packet where both of you were able to explore the true nature and culture of Bali, instead of staying in a five star hotel and fucking till dawn like most honeymoon. It was breathtaking, to say the least.

After settling on the dining table, you scoop a portion and hand it to him. “Eat. I also ordered your favorite donuts, it will be here in a few minutes.”

Seokjin gives you a thankful smile, acknowledging your effort to make him feel better. 

After a whole half an hour of eating in silence, you open a conversation. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He looks to you, and lower his sight back to his plate. “This is good.”

You sigh, folding your hands on the table. Seokjin might feel uncomfortable and you understand he needs time, but you also know that he needs to share it with someone else, or the feeling will drown him instead. “You know, there is no good keeping it inside.” You breath out. “I want to know what happened with you.”

A few minutes of silence. “How do you know Jimin?” He asks instead.

“He was my childhood friend in Busan, before his father hit it big and they moved to Seoul. We used to play together. He was a classmate, and my only friend at that time.”

Seokjin cocks his eyebrow. “Only that? Why does it seem like it’s not just friends? Like he really is glad to see you.” 

You shrug. “Yeah, it was.. kind of weird. You know how kids were. We were really close, and I kind of confessed… that I liked him before he went away.”

A particular hit on the plate causes you to flinch, a deep frown on Seokjin’s supple lips. “But it was in the past, right?” He confirms with no hint of playing, and you feel something settle strangely in your chest. 

Is it possible that he is jealous?

You chase the thoughts away and curtly reply. “Of course. I was 10 for god’s sake, I didn’t even really like him.” 

“I don’t even know why you like the guy. Was Busan really lacking in handsome boys?” Seokjin grumbles, munching soundly on the onion ring. “You should have seen me when I was a kid, I bet you’ll like me instead. I've been handsome since I was even a baby.”

“I’ve seen your schoolbook photo, but I’ll just go with whatever you say.” You giggle on his nonsense—even though he’s clearly not lying. He’s probably the most handsome person you’ve laid your eyes upon, that it was quite surprising he didn’t decide to fuckboy himself and settle down with you instead. 

Ten minutes pass in silence before you continue. “Can I say my last wish?” You ask carefully. Seokjin nods, a bit uncertain.

“Tell me what happened? With Jimin. And his fiancé too.” You hum, fidgeting with your fingers. “I just wanted to know, but it is okay if you don’t want to tell me.”

Seokjin sighs, rests his utensils and drinks the water before continuing. “It’s just.. hard. His wife, Dakyung was actually my girlfriend for a long time. We’ve been together since high school. At that time, she wasn’t really well off—his parents are struggling financially, but I was more than glad to support her getting the money to support her family.”

“We were together for like eleven years, I guess? I loved her very much, we’ve been through nearly everything and stood strong. I didn’t want to be with anyone else. I only wanted her. Being with anyone else never crossed my mind.” He softly explains, yet you don’t know why you feel yourself constricting with every word. It’s hurting you to see how pained he was, the beautifully carved words meant for someone else. “So around four years ago, I think? I bought an engagement ring for her. I was going to propose—but I guess you know the rest.”

“Did she.. cheat on you?” You ask carefully. Seokjin stares at you and nods, sadness written all over his face.

“I just found out when I was going to surprise her in her apartment. She… was in bed with.. Jimin.”

“What?!” You shouts in disbelief. “Jimin, your college friend fucked your girlfriend of eleven years?”

“Yes, and I don’t know what happened too, but at that time what I remembered was Jimin pleading for her to break up with me, and she said yes, asking for him to wait for the right time. But who am I kidding? It was a good choice at her part. Jimin is crazy rich, handsome and good too. Anything a girl wants, right?”

“Hey, don’t be like that.” You mutter, resting your palm over his as a consolation. “Money is not everything, and she’s trading that for eleven years of happiness with you. It’s her loss.”

“Maybe it’s not, Y/N. At that time, I realized that maybe it was indeed my fault. I, like a fucking fool, still wanted to be better for her. Even after I knew she was cheating on me, I tried holding on to her, so the next day I asked her to meet me and still proposed. I would do anything to make her happy. And as expected, she rejected me.”

“Seokjin…” You whisper, a tear welling on the corner of your eyes on how broken he must have felt.

“She immediately eloped with Jimin, and both moved to Sydney for school. But I guess in a way, I’ve never moved on. I was always trying to contact her, sending her emails or messages until she had enough and blocked me. I was depressed. The one that I loved for eleven years, left me just like that.”

Seokjin stares at you, meaningfully. And you’re about to hear something that breaks your whole being. 

“And then, I just knew I’d never love again.”

*

You don’t know what happened with you—and Seokjin, but in a way you’ve been distancing yourself from him, and the gesture is mutual. Seokjin never came home early, and not that you ask him anymore. He always came home whenever you were already asleep, and when you wake up, he’d be gone. Even with the current withdrawal, you still find breakfast on the table, courtesy of him. Yet you’d rather he not.

I just knew I’d never love again.

It hurts. It hurts like hell when he really said that he’ll never love again. In a way, you know you’ve been feeling something for your husband—that you crave for his attention and care, and to know that he might never reciprocate the way you want him to. Hurts like a bitch.

But it’s all on you. It is clear as crystal that love is not even the foundation of your marriage, so if anything happens to your foolish heart, it’s all on you. You shouldn’t have taken this lightly. You should’ve known that you are weak at heart, and you’ll fall for him anyway. 

Because he is the greatest guy you have ever met.

The compassion, kindness and caring that he has, it’s beyond comprehension. You don’t know how someone can be so understanding like he is, the way he takes care of you and wants nothing in return, that sincerely wants the best for you—even without love—succeeds in making you fall head over heels for him. 

God, you really are a fool.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You look to your left, seeing Hoseok scrutinizing at you in worry, now Jane is already beside him. “You’ve been whimpering since morning, and now you’re crying. Is there anything wrong?”

“Nothing, I am sorry for disturbing you all.” You swipe your tear stained cheeks, standing from your seat. “I’m getting some air, okay? I’ll see you guys later.”

Half-running, you enter the elevator and swiftly exit the building, trying to breathe as clear as you could—no matter how it might hurt you. God, you hate being vulnerable. You hate being weak. You hate being in love—an unrequited one, at that. Why can’t you just put your heart together? Why do you have to like him now, after two years of not caring whether he even fucked someone else behind your back? 

A whisper in your mind tells you that probably, these two years have been too great with him. Maybe, because he never gave you space for doubt. Maybe, you are already dependent on him without you knowing. Maybe, you take your feelings for granted.

“Y/N, are you okay? Why are you crying?” Someone stares at you in shock, and turns out it is Jungkook. His arm is around your shoulder. “I just finished a meeting and wanted to get  coffee and found you here instead. Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“Is it weird that I felt sad because I finally—finally have feelings for my husband? Like… this supposed to happen before marriage, right?”

“Oh, Y/N..” Jungkook sighs. “What happened?”

And like that, you fill him in on what happened between you and Seokjin, and it leaves him furrowing his eyebrows. “So.. you telling me that you think Seokjin still couldn’t forget his ex?”

You process his sentence for a while, and reply with a hesitant nod. Jungkook exhales loudly. “That’s not it, Y/N. I don’t think he’s still in love with his ex, he is... just scared. He is scared of the pain of his past, and he is scared of opening up to someone. Just like you. And with the way you are acting right now, it’s not fixing anything you both are feeling right now.”

“But he said he’ll never love again..”

“I couldn’t believe you even believe that bullshit.” Jungkook frowns. “That girl betrayed him. She gave him literally a thousand reasons to move on. He just needs time to adjust, and a couple of facts slapped to his face. He’ll come around.”

“Do… do you think I should.. talk to him about this?” 

“No. You can just shut up and hope he can read your mind.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, heavily sarcastic. “Talk to him, Y/N. You trust him, right?”

“I do.” You whisper to yourself, strangely motivated. “I do trust him.”

*

Well, it turns out trust is not a really firm base for confronting your own husband to the mess you made. After you called Seokjin to pick you up after work to get dinner together, he was visibly surprised at your request since you’re usually not the type to begin conversation after a fight—you never even asked to be picked up before. You yourself don’t even know whether it would be a good idea, but Seokjin’s easy agreement does make it better.

When you enter the car, he is the first to greet with a warm smile, and it reminds you that you haven’t seen it for so long now—you might even miss it. “Hey.” 

“Hi, Seokjin.” You let out a nervous chuckle. “Thank you for picking me up. I’m just.. feeling a bit out of it to take the train. I hope it’s okay.”

“Of course it is. I told you a million times I’ll pick you up if you can, you’re the one who rejected me.” He giggles lightly, glancing at you. “Thank you too.”

“For what?”

“For reaching out? I know past week we’ve been.. kinda avoiding each other. I didn’t know how to.. start since I was the problem in the first place.” He scratches his nape in shame. “I am very sorry, by the way. It was very immature of me.”

“No, it’s not. I totally understand.” You respond quickly. “And I didn’t know what happened, I have no rights to judge. It was your pain, and I am just glad you want to share it with me.”

Unexpectedly, Seokjin chuckles. “Why are you so sweet today.” 

“Let me know if you want my sass back, I’ll gladly serve it to you.” You retaliate, even your inside are churning with nerves.

“You know I accepted you for who you are—you can be anything you want.” Seokjin brushes the top of your head with a toothy grin that leaves you a breathy mess. 

“You are so cheesy today.” You respond briskly, noticing that you have arrived at the designated restaurant. Seokjin parks the car swiftly, and when there’s only silence inside, he turns on the lights on top of him.

“I have something for you.”

“What?”

“Look at the backseat.”

You glance at the backseat, finding an oak brown bag that somehow feels familiar. You quickly pick it up and open it. Turns out it is the exact beautiful brown bag that has catched your eyes from your previous window shopping session—before Jimin comes into the picture. You squeal in delight. “What is this?! Are you seriously giving this to me?”

“No, I’m giving it to Grandma Lee, our neighbor. Who else?” He smirks and you smack him lightly on the shoulder before adoring your bag once more.

“This is very pretty, though. How could you know which one I liked?”

“Well, let’s just say I know you better than you think? I practically know what you liked. This one greatly matches your outfits too. You know I have a great fashion sense.” He winks.

“I’ll let your last sentence pass because I’m very touched right now. Thank you, Seokjin.” You beam in joy, adoring the bag.

Seokjin nods, and when you rest the bag carefully on the backseat, he suddenly pulls you close for a hug—his arms around your waist, your chin settles on his shoulder. His spontaneity literally leaves you breathless, the heat is blooming around your cheek at the close proximity. God, you wish he couldn’t hear your drumming heartbeat.

“Thank you for being such a great friend and partner. I’m so thankful we are married, you know?”

You grimace in pain. God, the sound of your heart breaking is really audible in your ear. Oh, how you wish he had known.

*

And in the end, you are the loser in this game you played with yourself, because you most absolutely didn’t say a thing, yet you’re enjoying every second of being in love by yourself, making up scenarios and wondering if he feels the way you do.

It is ridiculous how greatly it has been played—considering how caring he usually is, yet it’s not even rare for him to say that you’re different in a way. He never explained in detail, but even you know what’s different. You started calling him frequently between work, asking when he’ll be home, his opinion on little things, or if he wanted to eat anything. It’s the small things that you’re hoping he’ll catch, yet it seems like something trivial for him and it lowkey upsets you.

One evening, you’re already waiting for him in the apartment, determined to finally tell him about what you feel—that you love him and hope he feels the same way. Jungkook was right—you can’t lounge around waiting for him. There’s no shame in starting first, especially when knowing it’s him you’re falling in love with.

Yet the clock strikes nine, he has not arrived yet. The food you prepared since six has already turned cold, and you start to feel wary, glancing nervously at the door—since he said he’ll be home around eight and is already late by an hour. You already tried calling him, but it is met with no response. His phone is on and well, yet he’s not replying. So you wait while watching the news.

Car crash. A man. Blue toyota. On the road of his way back home. You immediately reach for your phone, calling his number in panic.

Could it be?

*

It’s already midnight when Seokjin opens his apartment door, expecting darkness—but instead he finds you sleeping on the couch, phone clutched on your chest. He closes in, a thin smile formed on his lips as his fingers soothes the creases of your crouching eyebrows, but it somehow sends you flinching on your spot. You are now wide awake.

“Seokjin, when are you home?” You demand, as his pupils dilate of confusion. 

“I just arrived. Sorry, I was—”

“I thought you died, you moron!” You shouts immediately. “Car crash news was on, man driving a blue toyota. I was so scared it was you that I even called the police, yet they said the victim is still in the hospital, I couldn’t know the identity. I was so scared...” You don’t even know why you’re tearing up right now—but the emotion is overwhelming, you must be talking nonsense.

Seokjin blinks, confused. “I’m sorry, I left my phone on mute. I forgot to let you know...”

You don’t even want to hear the rest, as you quickly storm off to your bed and force yourself to sleep, muffling your cries. The feeling you had for the last few hours, the horror of thinking Seokjin might be laid in blood on the street is something you’d rather not experience now or ever. 

In a few minutes, you feel the bed dips beside you. Seokjin is there. 

“Are you still awake?” He softly asks, but you decide to ignore him and closes your eyes.

“I am very sorry. I didn’t know… this would happen. But I should’ve let you know.”

You clearly know what he refers to. You usually don’t give a shit if he’d even come in dawn, but now you’re crying and throwing a fit when it’s not even something to fuss about. It’s only you and your overreacting fear.

“Get some sleep, we’ll talk in the morning, okay?” He whispers as he tucked the blanket closer to you, stroking the top of your head carefully. 

*

The next morning, you wake up to the delicious smell of baked cheese. Unable to hold your scoff, you decided to stay a little bit on bed just to pisses him off. Frankly, you are still slightly vengeful for last night, with this urge to let him know your annoyance has not worn off.

So when he walks in and softly taps your shoulder, you are silent. “Hey. It’s already seven, you need to take a shower and come eat breakfast, hmm?” He persuades, but you turn your back to him, and Seokjin huffs at your petty acts, yet the guilt is still seeping in his chest. 

Seokjin sighs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t let you know work is unexpectedly late. I don’t want to make excuses, as I know it’s all my fault. I won’t do it again.”

At the sincerity in his tone, your anger quickly washes off, but still you’re doubtful on how to answer his apology. Should you just say yes? Or should you pretend anger?

“Hey, look at me.” Seokjin impatiently pulls you to face him, both his palms are on the sides of you. His eyes bore into yours, and you instantly turn stiff with his face so close. 

He takes a deep breath. “I’m very, very sorry, Y/N. I promise I’ll do my best in letting you know if something came up at work and not make you worry anymore.”

“I like you.”

You wonder whose word that is, but it turns out to be you. It’s literally you who said those three words that you have been practicing since last night. You didn’t even know why it’s coming out right now, it’s just the way he looks at you right now—it’s the first thing you want him to know. 

“What?” He looks mildly bewildered.

“I like you, Seokjin. I… I don’t know when or how, but I really, really like you.” You confess. You finally confess, yet the way Seokjin looks immediately puts you in horror. That’s absolutely not the look you expected from him.

He laughs with sheer awkwardness. “Of course, we are married. You know I like you too, Y/N.” Yet you know he meant differently.

You know everything will go south the moment you try to say what you truly meant, yet you don’t want to lie anymore. You are tired of hiding what you’re feeling. “I am serious. I like you, in that way. I might even love you. The past two years, we’ve been with each other and I seriously couldn’t be happier with what we both had. I know this is not what we both planned—”

“It’s most absolutely not.” He cuts, distancing himself from you, face filled with panic.

“—but I want you to know. I want to try this, Seokjin. I know you might need some time, and what I feel might be one-sided, but I want you to know and try this. With me.”

A moment of silence to tense that you can slice it to choke yourself—when it’s only you and him who is avoiding your gaze. He then scoots off the bed, and you feel like you can’t breathe.

 “I… I’m gonna go. You should finish your breakfast.”

And then he left.

The misery doesn’t end there. You never felt someone could be so physically close yet so far away like what he’s putting between the two of you right now. For a straight week he literally never came home earlier than nine, and when he did, he’d sleep on the couch. And fuck did it hurt to sleep knowing he is out of your reach. You never know love could hurt like this—maybe you trusted him too much with your heart.

Saturday, you left a note that you’ll be off to your parents house for the weekend, and even then Seokjin didn’t contact you. And coming back home, your parents fortunately didn’t fuss as much, maybe since you just said you needed time away from him. 

The night comes, you are lounging in your room when your phone rings. At once you quickly jump to retrieve it, frown when seeing its a social media notification instead.

From : @pjmin

Hi, Y/N, this is Jimin! Hope you are doing well :) [21:29]

I know this is a bit hurried, but if possible, are you up to meet for coffee tomorrow? [21:29]

It’s okay if you can’t, just want to talk and catch up while I’m in town [21:30]

Let me know! [21:31]

Albeit doubtful, you are indeed curious about what he wants to talk about, knowing it must have something to do with Seokjin. Unable to hold your curiosity, you agree to a time and place with him.

Tomorrow, you walk into the agreed coffee shop, finding Jimin already seated, sipping on his beverages. You carefully pay attention to him, and notice he indeed has changed so much from that average kid you met when you were kids. Well, not that you have any rights to comment though.

“Hi.” He greets with a smile after you are seated in front of him. “I ordered you something. Hope you’re okay with caramel frappucino. You still like sweets?”

“Ah, I’m fine with anything. Thanks. And yes, I still like them. Kinda surprised you still remember, though.” You joke. Jimin lips curls.

“Well, the memory of a kid eating four cotton candy in one sitting until she passed out from high blood sugar is not really something one could forget.” He giggles, and you roll your eyes. Well, your childhood is indeed not a pretty one. “It was rather traumatizing, I could say.”

After a moment of catching up on how he’s currently doing right now, you mindlessly ask him. “So, where is your fiancé? I thought she’ll be with us here.”

Jimin instantly dims at the mention. “Uh… We broke up.”

You stop your movement and gape at him in disbelief. “Seriously? Why?”

“Well, let’s just say once a cheater is always a cheater?” Jimin stares down at his drinks. “Not in that way, though. In the beginning, my family never really liked her, that’s why I’ve been holding off from marriage—no matter how much she pleaded to. We actually came back to get married, and get blessings. And just yesterday, my father sent me a whole report of her financial statement, slush funds, and everything. Well, there’s just too much thing she’s hiding behind my back.”

“Jimin…” You mutter, feeling bad for the guy. But still, you are unable to scoff at how blinded he has been. The girl is no doubt is using him for his money—and he just realized it now? 

“I know what you’re thinking. I must be a damn fool to just realize it now.” He humorlessly laughs, correctly reading your mind. “But maybe I was hoping she’ll one day change. I must be a total dumbass.”

“Yeah, you kinda are.” You had enough of holding back, and it surprises Jimin with your forwardness. You grin regardless. “But that’s okay. Everybody makes mistakes, right? We just gotta live with it.”

“Yeah.” He agrees with a saddened smile. “I know it doesn’t quite make sense telling this to Seokjin’s wife, but… I don’t know. I want you to know that I regretted it. I really shouldn’t have done that—cheating behind his back. Maybe this is karma, anyway. I deserved this.”

You sigh. “You know that you shouldn’t be saying that to me, right? You should tell it straight to Seokjin.”

Jimin sighs, like it has been bugging his mind for a long time now. “But of course he wouldn’t want to see me. And I have a flight tonight, back to Sydney, so I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“Well, maybe an apology had to wait, then.” You shrug, and Jimin frowns. “You were his friend, Jimin. And I know if I were him, I’d want it coming from you.”

“I guess so. You were right.” He exhales loudly. “Thank you for that too. And agreeing to meet me. I’m really glad we talked. And don’t forget to stay in contact, okay?”

You hum with a wide smile. “Thank you too, Jimin.”

“Oh, I nearly forgot. I brought this for your wedding present.” Jimin crouches, retrieving a gift box as he displays a sincere beam. “I don’t know if Seokjin would like that I’m giving you this, but, yeah. I am very glad that you’re together. You guys seriously could be the best couple I know.”

You fiddly laugh when reminded of the current turmoil of your marriage. Well, he's better off not knowing, though. “You really shouldn’t have, but thank you for this.”

Well, you do hope that whatever Jimin’s gift is, Seokjin is still there to use them.

*

Sunday, you spend lounging on your bed, staring at the gift from Jimin, opened and stacked on your desk. You are still unable to comprehend his thoughtfulness. He gave you a couple bathrobe, a bottle of expensive Bordeaux Wine with two antique wine glasses. You messaged him thank you, and Jimin only sent a wink emoticon as an answer.

And then you are reminded of Seokjin’s scar. What happened with his ex, it was because he was too kind. He was too trustful, and it hurt to let go of someone you’ve been with for nearly half of your life and betrayed you like that. He is really the kindest soul out there—and then you realize that you missed him dearly. You wonder what he might be doing right now. Is he just as distraught as you are? Is he thinking about you as well?

In the middle of your wandering thoughts, your phone abruptly chimes. Finding an unknown number in the other line, you answer hesitantly. “Hello?”

“Hi, Y/N. This is Yoongi, Seokjin’s friend.”

It’s been a long time since you heard from him and you rise to sit, mildly perturbed. “Yes. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Not really. Apologize if I’m too forward, I know there’s a bit of problem at bay, but I know Seokjin’s dying to talk to you, and has been stressing about it since god-knows-when. He’s in my apartment now, can you… get him? Lounging in my apartment drinking is not going to solve anything.” He huffs lightly, and you sigh in distress.

“I know. But I am now in my parents house. Do you think.. I should just come?”

An evil laugh is heard on the other end. “No, that’s unnecessary. I know what’s even better that will help with this whole thing.”

Closing his call in daze, you are still waiting for the plan—but not even an hour in, a rushed knock is already heard from your front door. In a blink, Seokjin is on your bedroom door, carefully opening it. 

“Y/N?” He softly calls your name. “Are you… okay?”

Well, the scared look on his face does make you kind of guilty. Yoongi must have told him lies that you’re sick, and then he didn’t even spend another second and went straight to you. You have no idea what to feel, decide to hide yourself under your blanket.

“Hey, look at me.” He rushes, tapping the side of your arm carefully, but you are still unbudging. Impatiently, he effortlessly tugs the blanket off of you, until you are looking at him with a frown in your face. He rests his palm on your forehead, to your neck, baffled. “Are you sick? Yoongi told me you have high fever.”

“Well, I think Yoongi lied because he wanted to chase you out of his apartment.” You scowl, turning your face with a hint of blush on your face. You never know seeing him again could be this difficult. “I heard you’ve been a parasite to him.” You tease, slightly smiling.

“Yoongi, that disrespectful shithead.” Seokjin hisses under his breath, but it’s obvious that he is avoiding your eyes. He straightens and clears his throat. “Okay then. I think… I should go  home. Are you going to stay here?”

“Seokjin…” You call, holding on his wrist from leaving. “Are you angry at me?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “I am not angry at you.”

“But you are avoiding me. And we don’t even talk anymore. This is not how we used to handle problems. What’s wrong?” You persist, determined to end this cold war with him. 

Seokjin sighs. “I am just… scared.”

“What are you scared of?”

“I am scared of disappointing you.” He is visibly downcasted. “I know what you meant, Y/N. But I also know that I can’t be… what you want me to be. I can’t seem to forget... her. I don’t want to hurt you, or myself. And I know It’s difficult, and I don’t want to put you into that pain. It’s better this way.”

“I never pressured you into anything.” You reply, your voice started shaking. “I just want you to know, and try this with me. And you know holding onto something that has hurt you is not going to work, Seokjin. Please, please stop hurting yourself and try this. With me.”

“I-I can’t.” He hurriedly mutters, intending to walk out before you hold him back, crushing yourself into his arms, your tears burst into loud sobs.

For a good ten minutes, you spend it crying on his arms, tears wetting his white shirt. You don’t know what you feel—you’re dejected, sad, disappointed, angry, too many emotions that overwhelms your whole being but can only come in tears when he’s around. “Seokjin, I like you. Why can’t you give us a chance? Are you… that disgusted with me?”

At the self depreciating cries, he quickly looks down, both palms are on either side of your face. “Don’t be like that. I adore you so much, Y/N. Don’t hurt yourself because of me.”

“There’s no way I can’t be sad if you’re still hurting yourself. I just want you to be happy—with me. Is that so hard?” You weep, hiding yourself back to his chest. “I hate this. You know how much I hate crying.”

“Then you shouldn’t have cried that much.” He scolds, stroking your scalp like he usually does—and you slightly feel comforted at his familiar gesture.

After another ten minutes just hugging it out, he finally leans into you resting his head on top of yours, taking a deep breath of nerves.

“Okay. Let’s try then. But please be patient with me, hmm? I’ll try my hardest for us.”

*

“Good morning, sleepyhead!”

He shuffles in his sleep, but is unmoving. You frown, and call him one more time yet still met with no response. Huffing, you scoot closer to him, and clasp his nose to hamper him from breathing. At your disturbance he groans, finally opening his eyes. “Why are you waking me up now… This is still dawn.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have started getting back into gaming now. This is already half past seven, mister. Take a shower before you’re late.” You remind him, and as expected he already has two feet on the ground, running to the shower.

And as a kind and dutiful wife, you help him by preparing his outfits. You chose a nice blue themed suit this time, paired with a nice tie you bought him a few months back. Walking out with a towel wrapped around his waist, you are unable to hold your eyes from straying low. Damn, he really be packing like that, huh?

“What are you looking at, huh?” Seokjin squints his eyes at you, taking the prepared clothes. “Don’t look at me like that. I know I’m a whole snack, but I’m not a sexual object.” He jokes while wiggling eyebrows, and you scoff loudly when you can’t find a sassy reply for him.

You decide to wait in the living room, trying to calm your heartbeat. God, you’re such a loser, now even his bare chest can stupefy you like that. 

Regardless, you're more than content with the current relation with you and Seokjin. Both you definitely have gotten better, a bit more identical to wife and husband—even if it's probably only for you. You are trying your hardest for him, and when you know he can’t instantly fall at your feet and love you the way you do, you are satisfied. At least he’s not pushing you away.

“I’m a bit late for breakfast, but thank you for this.” He whispers, pointing to the pack of food you prepared for him. Noticing what’s missing, you pick the tie from his grasp, and circle around his neck and putting it on for him. He visibly stiffen on your arms.

After finished, you brush his suit’s shoulder and take a step back with a smile. “Let me know when you’ll be home, okay?”

“Okay.” He agrees and softly smiles. “See you.”

And then, he leaves a tender peck on your left cheek and exits the room. 

You literally can’t stop smiling the whole day.

*

One thing that you never really told anyone, is that you never had true sex. Like you had it once or twice in high school, but those annoying jerks never let you even finish and all you were left was disappointment. During college, you were too ambitious for your studies, so the thought of sleeping around was not on your agenda, and you never really believed in love or relationships. So when the thought of sex enters your mind this morning, it was quite frightening.

Having your lunch with only Jungkook, you decided to tell him your concern. He is quite shocked to say the least. “What the—you want to have sex with him? Finally?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” You exhale, pushing away your food in disinterest. “This few days we are making progress. So I don’t know—isn’t sex always the solution? I thought it would do some good for us.”

“Well, it’s indeed a solution for most problems, I would say.” He giggles between words, and you roll your eyes in disgust. “But I don’t know about Seokjin. I must say—the man really has outstanding self control. Sleeping on one bed with a woman for two straight years and still hasn’t initiated sex? Crazy. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had been sleeping around before.”

The thought immediately darkens your whole mood, and Jungkook realizes his slips. “—or, he’s just a good masturbator? Nobody knows, Y/N, especially not me. Ha ha ha.” He nervously chuckles, sipping his drinks. “And the minority of men are not that much of an sex-fueled animal. He must be good at keeping his hands to himself, and please don’t mind what I said.”

What Jungkook said might be haunting you a bit that you request to get home early—when instead you’re going to the mall for shopping. You went straight to the ladies side where all kinds of bras or lingerie is available, but you literally have no clue what’s useful for your case. Already desperate, you finally call Jane for advice, discarding the huge probability of damage that you’ll be teased or ridiculed. 

“Oh my god! That’s very fun. I still can’t believe you lied to the boss because you’re preparing to bone your husband tonight.” Jane cackles, truly amused. “God, I miss those alone times with my husband. Don’t have kids too soon, Y/N. Be happy with your husband.”

“Stop rambling and help me pick!” You hiss, realizing a few stares has caught on you. She giggles, and then proceeds to help you pack home a black lacy three piece lingerie that will instantly shock your mother if she ever sees—which she said would ‘even spice up a fifty years old marriage’. 

You don’t even know how that’s possible, or why you even asked her for advice in the first place.

Waiting for your train home, you hold your shopping bag close to your chest, slightly  embarrassed. You don’t know what you should do then—should you just wear it and surprise him in the living room when he comes home? Or lay in your bed while trying to tease him? How does that actually work?

In front of your apartment, suddenly a call arrives. Seokjin. “Hey, Y/N. Work is a bit much today, I think I’ll be late. Will be home around nine, maybe. But can you wait for me? I forgot to bring my keys.”

Agreeing mindlessly, you sigh after ending the call, looking to the bag on your grasp. You really had a bad feeling about this.

*

It’s quarter to nine, Seokjin is already on the way home and you are already all cleaned up. You started with a good, long warm shower and shaves, curled your hair, and put up a light makeup. You even tried watching porn for learning purposes—but instantly grossed out after a few failed attempts at finding a good one. Well, maybe you should just kiss him and not say or do a thing you’ll regret.

Jungkook was right, though. There’s no way Seokjin can handle two long years without sleeping around. Yet even the thoughts of him sleeping with other girls leaves you qualmish. In the middle of your busy thoughts, the bell suddenly rings at the door. 

“Y/N? Are you there? Can you please open this?”

Walking with your heels on, your head is in haze at the thoughts of him seeing you like this. God, you start having second thoughts. Should you just run inside and change your clothes? But the remembrance of the price of this lingerie instantly blanches you. You’d rather be shamed in front of your husband than wasting his much money for nothing. 

“Good ev—what is this?”

Seokjin looks at you, visibly flabbergasted at your unexpected fit. Not even once that he would think you would wear something like this, especially for him—and now your face is already beet red. You are far too shy to do or initiate anything.

“Are you okay? What are you—”

Before he can say other things that will embarrass you even more, you quickly crash your lips to his, kissing it frantically while trying to make it as pleasurable as possible. Seokjin instantly gasps, his bag falling to the floor beside him. His hands rest on your back while you are focusing to make it as good as it can get for him. 

You bite his lips for entrance, and as he moans you slips your tongue inside, tasting the sweet beverages he just drank. At one point, he finally responds—kissing you back with tenderness instead that helps manage a pace that won’t leave you breathless.

Few more minutes of tasting his lips against yours, Seokjin finally lets you go, and unexpectedly laughs. Realizing how foolish you must have been for him, you quickly flee inside the room and jump under your blanket. You hiss and close your eyes, cheeks flushed at the remembrance of the kiss and his amused face staring at you—God, can you be more humiliating?

After taking a shower, Seokjin jumps on the bed and you instantly scoot yourself further away, with your back facing him. The silent giggle is still heard and frustrated, you sent him a glare. “Why are you laughing?! There’s nothing funny.”

“I’m laughing not because it's funny, but because you’re extremely cute.” He hums, probably noticing how the blush crept back on your cheek. You scowl in annoyance. “You’re so aggressive today, but how can you’re still so cute? What happened, hmm?”

“No, I just…Ugh, I’m trying here, okay? I know these past two years might have been frustrating to you, I won’t even be surprised if you’ve been sleeping around—”

“What? What are you saying? Who’s sleeping around?” Seokjin asks, puzzled. You bit your lips, looking down in shame.

“I don’t know, maybe because my friends told me they wouldn’t last without sex and I just… I thought you’re like that too. And we haven’t really talked about that, so...”

He laughs, pulling you close until you flush against his chest. He smells like oak and citrus and it entices you at once. “I haven’t been sleeping with anyone for the past two years. My last time was probably with a stranger when I broke up, I think. I don’t really remember.”

“Really? You don’t have to lie to me, I know it’s really—”

“I am serious. And why would I lie? I just… think it’s not right. To be truthful, I also don’t want you to sleep around with someone else when we’re married, I’m just trying to keep this as pleasant as it could be for us.”

Humming against his chest, you feel your heart warming at his considerate act. You really are marrying the right person—regardless of how unconventional it started. You can’t even imagine if it was someone else. Few minutes of silence just feeling his arms around yours until you speak and ruin the whole conversation. 

“So does it mean you’re a great masturbator?”

Seokjin laughs until his whole body vibrates. “Well, maybe you could say it like that.”

*

“So, are you going to tell me what happened last night?” Jane asks during your lunch with Hoseok, Jungkook, and Namjoon with a hint of teasing on her tone. “I am surprised you even came to the office today. I thought you’d call in sick.”

“What the hell—it’s not like that.” You hiss at her, hoping she’d get your subtle message to quit it. Jane groans.

“Come on, Y/N, we are all adults here. Tell us! At least tell me how many rounds. What was it like? Did you use any other tools—like ropes or vibrators?”

Hoseok and Namjoon literally choke on their drinks, while Jungkook smirks in amusement at your flushed cheeks. “Don’t say it. Damn, Jane, it’s not it! What the hell are you saying?!”

“Well, I mean you literally called in sick to buy a lingerie—that I chose, for those taking notes—which literally will get him hot and erected in no time. How can I not be wondering?! What was it like? Tell me, I’m a lonely mother of two, Y/N. I just want to know, hmm?”

“Yes, tell us, Y/N! How’d it go with your lawfully wedded husband?” Jungkook joins in, giggling in mischief. You shot him an unamused look.

“Ah, I remember those days. Fucking till morning with my wife. Well, before the baby arrives.” Namjoon sighs dreamily, and you are visibly repulsed at his sentence. “I agree with Jane, Y/N. I love my child to death, but I’d rather wait for maybe another year or two.”

“It’s not like that!” You hide your face on your palm. “There literally nothing happened. I wore that lingerie, and surprised him when he came home, but we ended up doing nothing but kissing. He laughed, by the way. Thanks for that, Jane.” You glare at her, and she shrugs.

“Only that?” Hoseok asks, uncertain. “You’re already wearing lingerie and nothing happened?”

You vengefully nod. “That’s really all. Then he took a shower, we just talked until both fell asleep. Done.”

Namjoon contemplates, fingers on his chin. “That’s weird. Hmm. You don’t even bother jumping in the shower?”

“You are an idiot.” You sigh, massaging your temple—even if the idea struck you in a way. Should you have jumped into the shower with him? But you did your make up and all... “Even kissing him was already—”

Jungkook quickly cuts with roaring laughter. “Wow, I never know you’re that much of an idiot, Y/N! Ha ha ha I’m hungry, does anyone want to order food now?” As others are focused on skimming the menu, he sends you a look, and you just register that you were about to blabber the reality of your marriage. You grimace and mutter your thanks to him.

*

Two weeks have passed in a blink, and you are seriously pleased with the way things are. It feels like the boundary has been torn down between you two, and pretty clear that Seokjin’s been making an effort for your relationship as well. Usually, you always feel the things he does is based on mere obligation, but you know it’s no longer the case for him. You can feel how much he cares and adores you—receiving your bear hugs whenever he comes home, holding you close before coming to bed, kissing your forehead whenever it feels right. 

Just like today. You are feeling a bit feverish, and when you reply to his message asking how’re you doing, he immediately calls.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asks after the first beep, tone laced with concern. “If you’re not feeling good, you should go home. Do you want me to call a taxi? Or can you wait for an hour, I’ll take you home.”

“I’m fine. This is not really rare. I’ll be fine soon.” You giggle, even inside of you tickles on the wondrous feeling of him caring for your well being. “I’ll go straight home after this.”

“Okay. I’ll get you.” He reminds and you hum in agreement. “Stay put until then, okay?”

I love you. “See you.”

I love you too. “Bye.”

And while driving home with Seokjin, you don’t know why but you feel physically much better than before. It just feels so right with him beside you. Especially when you initiate to hold his hand, he lets go for a second and repositions himself so he could hold your hand better—you seriously think you could fall sick on how jumpy you’ve become because of him. 

“Are you sure you’re sick? Or you just need some attention, hmm?” He teases, lightly pinches your cheek. You huff in embarrassment. 

“You’re annoying.” You are about to pull back your hand to your lap when he holds it tighter. 

“Who says I wanna let go.” Seokjin’s lips curl into a hearty smile. You still maintain your fake scowl. “You’re just so cute, that’s what.”

“Why are you so cheesy nowadays.” You burst in laughter, unable to hold it back. Seokjin beams, and reliably parks the car in your apartment’s basement with one hand. Finally silence, it's only you and him with the soft engine sound when he pulls you to his arms.

“Thank you for loving me. I seriously don’t know what you see in me, but I seriously can’t believe that you really like me and want to go through this.” He exhales softly, his left arms holding you by the waist, his right stroking your hair. “I hope that you know that I’m trying my best here. But I don’t know why, it doesn’t even feel like trying. Everything is so easy with you.”

“That’s really cheesy.” You chuckles, but tighten your arms around him regardless. “I’m also very thankful that you’re giving us a chance. I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you. I keep on making a mess, falling in love when I shouldn’t—”

“Hey, don’t say that. I am really happy we’ve been through this, or I might always chicken out. Even if it could be better if I wasn’t such a jackass, but I’m still grateful.” He coos, pecking your forehead.

Releasing his hug, you are about to mutter something when he cuts with his lips lurching unto yours, cutting whatever sound beside loud moans. You are taken aback, falling a step back before steadying yourself by finding purchase on his shoulder. His palms are on either side of your face, pacing himself. 

You spend no time responding, savoring the tender taste of his lips. He tasted just the way you remember, sweet and addicting that leaves you wondering why you haven’t been doing this since the beginning. Catching a breath, he laps at your lips for opening, and as you comply, he roughly pulls you closer by the nape, tangling his tongue like he is a man starved all this time. 

“Did you eat a donut?” You giggle when he lets your lips go, trailing pepper kisses on your neck instead. When his lips ghosts to the succulent curve of your v-neck top, you abruptly pull him up to see you in the eye. 

“Baby, don’t. Not here. We’re just steps away from the apartment and we’re not getting reprimanded of public indecency.” You remind him. Seokjin scoffs, letting out a deep sigh.

“You shouldn’t wear this top. This is not good for my health.” He frowns as you laugh. “And what are you thinking, I’m not going to have our first time in this car. It was just an intro, so you better be prepared.”

“Ooh, consider me spooked, then.” You smirk in mischief. It is somehow proven by the way Seokjin cannot take his hands off of your waist, ghosting right above the bump of your ass while ascending to your apartment. At all the action you feel the discomfort between your thigh—high chance you are already dripping wet. You have been feeling exceptionally horny this few days, anyway. 

“And don’t think I didn’t know the way you’re invading my space and grinding your ass last night when we went to sleep.” He suddenly mentions the event that leaves you all blushing—especially with the other residents on the elevator. You elbow him right away, finger crossed they won’t hear a word he’s saying.

Arriving in your apartment, Seokjin doesn’t hesitate when he pulls you for a deep kiss, his fingers hovering on the hem of your top to detach it from you, flinging it to wherever. Your skin shivers when his fingers are in contact with your bare skin, and to your bra as he grabs the succulent flesh that leaves you a moaning mess. 

“Baby, wait. I need to go to the restroom.” You whisper between the kiss, when  the incessant throb quite overwhelming your good sense now. Seokjin huffs in pout but let go either way. There’s no way he will say no to whatever request you have for him.

“Don’t be long, sweetheart.”

Running to your toilet with a qualmish feeling on your stomach, you quickly discard your panties with a hypothesis—to have it confirmed by how it has been ruined… with your period blood. You hiss, the frustration building up in your head. You are just about to have sex with your husband after long days of pining, and you just had to have the period on the exact same day. There’s gotta be wrong with your luck.

Finally cleaning yourself, you walk out to find your husband is sitting on the couch, a visible hard-on from his trousers. At the sound of you walking out, he stands but to find your deep frown. “Hey, sweetheart. What’s wrong?”

“Ugh, I hate this so much. I can’t believe we’re about to do this but I got to have my period.” You run to his side, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m sorry for ruining this.”

At your visible dejection, Seokjin can’t bear but to giggle and it leaves you puzzled. How can he be laughing now? “Hey, it’s no matter to me. We can do something else about it, okay? I’ll take care of you. And we can leave that one for raincheck, so don’t be upset.”

Seokjin spends no other second in ravishing your lips while detaching your bra, discarding it in the same manner. His large palms grab the mounds, giving it a little squeeze before pinching your sensitive buds, especially now that you’re in your period. “Ugh, god. You’re so beautiful.” He gruffly mutters before taking your left mounds into his mouth, giving it a hard suck that you have to tug on his fluffy hair on how the pleasure has engulfed you. 

“Seokjin...” You moan his name as he shifts to the other mounds, his other hand strays to your clothed core, giving it a feathery touch before he pushes his digits. You bit your lips, holding back a sound.

“Don’t hold back, sweetheart. I want to hear all of you tonight.” He reminds. You nod, feeling your mind has clouded in haze and all you can feel is how great he is with his deed.

Noticing how he has been focusing on your pleasure and satisfaction, you push him back to the couch, your knees on the wooden floor before taking a ride for yourself by opening the fly of his trousers. Seokjin gasps at your cold hands on his erected cock before it springs free in all its glory. 

“God, you’re so big. I’m not sure if I can take you end when this fucking period is over.” You are shocked at the size of his girthy dick, the precum is already leaking and you can feel your saliva swimming in your mouth—desperate for a taste.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I told you I’ll take care of you, okay?” He comforts, before his tone drops. “Now suck on my cock like you’re a bitch in heat.”

You give a kittish lap on the slit, tasting the saltiness that is unfamiliar to your tongue, but is easy to discard when encouraged by the moan he is letting out with such favor. Noticing that it might hurt him to be blown without proper preparation, you spit on his dick, before giving him a sensual pump. “Fuck, Y/N, where did you learn to do that—god!” He moans in rapture. 

Your mouth closes in, sucking on the tip before taking him in your mouth. You run your tongue along the vein of his beautiful cock, wrapping your lips tight around it, feeling how it throbs in your mouth. “Fuck, don’t stop. Don’t stop.” He hisses, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. But for the intention of teasing, you’re detaching your lips, going to the ridge of his cock’s length for a lick.

“Damn it, baby, why are you such a tease.” He groans, but is cut with your palm wrapping around his dick, the other slides up to his ball. You can feel a new wave of arousal coming out from your pussy. “Now let me fuck your throat.” He stoutly orders with hooded eyes, forcing your mouth back to take in his red tip and length until it hits the back of your throat—resulting in a gag. Seokjin gathers your hair, helping it out of your way before he raises his hips, feeling the wondrous feeling of your mouth clamming on his dick.

“Don’t flex your throat, sweetheart. Relax, okay? Tell me if you want to stop.” He stares at you, and you nod. You fucking love this, and you’d literally do anything to make him satisfied tonight. Your throat relaxes, and you savor his satisfied groans after feeling the back walls of your throat, with the tears streaking your cheek at his pace and feeling the burn. 

“O-oh g-god, F-fuck y-yes.” Seokjin pants, each syllable coming out as he thrust into your throat. “Look at me, sweetheart. I want to see your pretty face while I fucked your mouth hard.” He angles you better until he is satisfied, the lewd image of his cock stuffed into your mouth instantly sends him jerking faster.

A throaty moan slips out of you, and the action successfully sends him to his edge, feeling the vibrations cause his cock to throb in your pretty mouth. “Fuck, this is amazing. You’re so fucking great.” The compliments earns him another groan from you, and it ignites the leading to his awaited orgasm.

Few other thrusts in your throat, you finally feel Seokjin constricting inside of you. He’s about to come, and you’re expecting him to release his load for you to swallow—you were prepared, overall—but unexpectedly he retracts from your mouth, instead jerking off in immaculate pace, and the loss of his dick leaves hollowness inside your throat. “I wanna cum on your tits, baby.” He gruffly whispers.

“Give it to me, daddy.” You persuade, as he pants, still working on his red cock—on the edge of his orgasm. Yet not even once he turns his gaze from you, all red and high with lust hooded in your eyes, the trace of tears on the side of cheek, the swole of your plump lips coated in his pre cum and spit. You look surreal. 

“Fuck-fuck! You’re so fucking beautiful.” He hisses, increasing the pace of his pumps before releasing his massive loads on your tits, painting it white. You look down to yourself, feeling his cum trickles down to your nipples and to your thigh. You swipe the liquid with your forefinger, before lapping it clean inside your mouth, internally revolting at the taste.

“Damn, this is crazy. How the fuck you are so good at that.” He sighs in delight, looking at you with lidded eyes and evident aftersex glow. “Let me clean you up.” He reaches for the tissue, cleaning his loads on your breast. Both of you involuntary laughs at the current event. 

“Come here.” He crouches down, scoops you into his hold before moving to the bedroom. You abruptly circle your arm around his neck, he closes in for your lips for another make out session on bed. While his tongue is lapping at your own, his fingers move to stimulate you with your hardened nipple until your breath is rigged. His right finger cups your clothed core, giving it a welcomed pressure and humping it until you’re left with moans and satisfied sighs, your finger clutches on his hair, tugging it lightly. 

Seokjin’s lips advanced to your ear,giving it a kittish lick. “And you better be prepared, I will eat you out and fuck you all night afer your period is done, sweetheart..”

*

It’s finally Friday, and you are at your desk for work after lunch. Suddenly, Jane closes in at you. “What are you looking at that seriously?” She inquires, noticing you’ve been staring at the calendar on your desk for longer than anyone should. You turn to her, and shake your head silently. 

“No, I just realized that it's soon December.”

“So?”

“It’s soon will be Seokjin’s birthday. He’s turning 34.”

Jane nods in understanding. “Will you get him anything?”

“I don’t know.” You tap your chin, thinking of what to get him. You’ve been scrolling through commerce websites, yet to find even an idea about what to give to him. And it hits you—maybe you don’t really know him after all. “What did you get your husband for his birthday?”

She chuckles. “Last birthday I gave him a responsibility of a lifetime—my pregnancy test came out positive. I wouldn’t say it was a very good birthday present though, as we didn’t really expect a pregnancy after all.”

It dims you right away. Pregnancy? It is too far fetched, right? You haven’t even discussed it with Seokjin—and you don’t want to directly throw him a responsibility for another life being when your romantic relationship has basically just started. Days after days of late nights humping and blowjobs, waiting for your period is over is not basically a very firm foundation for having kids. You don’t even know if you’re ready for it.

And today is the last day of your period. Seokjin has actually asked if you want a dinner together—and you said yes. Based on his promise, today should also be the day you will be making love till dawn. But this dampens your mood a bit, at the thought of having kids frightens you. 

Scrolling through instagram, you see that Tasha, your sister-in-law has posted a series of photos from the previous birthday lunch of your father-in-law. The first photo is the five of them smiling together, the second is their three children with the grandparents, and the next one is Seokjin, smiling while he’s caging Taehyun’s little frame inside his arms. You smile longingly at that. Nobody can deny it though—Seokjin is amazing with kids, you know how much he loves them. And there are countless times you pity him for marrying you—as children were never part of your plan before.

But now you love him. And so does he.

And the thoughts have been haunting you that even when you’re seated in front of him in a high class restaurant, Seokjin can sense something is bothering your mind. He holds you by the hand across the table, and how you instinctively flinch confirms his suspicion. 

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

You smile nervously at him, shrugging. “I am fine, but yeah.. Something is just.. bugging my mind, that’s all.”

“What is it?” He asks softly, a bit worried. “Don’t you like this place? Are you cold? You’re not sick, right?”

“It’s not it.” You giggle at his cute attention. “I just... you know, I saw the date and realized that you’re having a birthday soon. I just don’t know what to get you. A bit upset that maybe it feels like I don’t know you that well, that’s all.”

His face lightens at that, the creases of his smile evident. “No, you don’t have to get me anything. I’m just happy with what we have right now.” He gazes at you, pulling your hands to give it a light kiss. “I am just.. very thankful that you’re here.”

“But I want to give you something.” You frown, looking down. “It feels like you’re always taking care of me, and I’m always at the receiving end.”

“Why are—Y/N, you are the most selfless person I know. The way you take care of me just shows how much I owe you with anything I have. I want to make you happy, as you already made me the happiest I can be.” He explains in rush, like he’ll suffocate if you don’t realize how precious you are to him any time soon.

“Thank you.” You gratefully replies, holding back the tears from falling.

The next two hours, you’re already in bed with Seokjin on top of you, both your clothes are far long discarded on the floor. His palm is grabbing your succulent mounds, his right palm on the bed beside your face. His lips are lapping at yours, savoring the wine you consumed from the previous dinner.

“Seokjin, please put your dick inside me.” You moan before biting his lower lips. He smirks haughtily.

“Not so fast. I promised I’d eat you, didn’t I, kitten?” He questions, before moving his kisses to your neck, breast, stomach and to your thigh. You bite your own lips, your breath hitched when feeling the cold air he blows to your throbbing core. 

He laps at your cunt, his fingers sensually moving in circles for stimulation, and when his tongue is finally in contact with your clit, you feel the new wave of arousal is dripping out. Seokjin grins, instantly welcoming it with his tongue that leaves you a moaning mess. “Kitten, you’re dripping so much. Do you want to be fucked that badly?”

“Yes, yes, daddy. Don’t hesitate, please fuck me.” You breath out, finally pulling his face closer to your cunt. Seokjin slaps them harshly, eyes turning dark at your disobedience.

“Are you not going to be patient, kitten? Do you want daddy to stop fucking you?”

The thoughts literally scare your whole being that you deters from touching him. “Daddy, please. Fuck me, stuff me with your big cock.”

After that he continues on with his crazy good tongue, moving in and out of you until you screams his name in pleasure. Not only his tongue, his digits enter you in exchange, furthering them inside to scissors you until you are crying of ecstasy. As your orgasm builds up, he circles your clit in wondrous motions with simultaneous licking your cunt which helps you reach your edge. And not even another minute, you cum generously on his tongue.

Few minutes of reaching your breath, Seokjin laughs at your fucked out expression, your orgasm has caught up with you. You are literally glowing with sweat and satisfaction that it literally takes his breath with how blissful you feel, because of him.

“Don’t look at me like that, baby. I still need to ride you, need you to cum inside me.” You remind him right after finding his strangely contented expression staring down at you. “Just... let me take a breather, okay?”

“Are you sure you can ride me? It seems like you lost all your energy.” He giggles, plopping beside you on bed, pulling you close to his chest, that you are leaning on his arm. “I am marrying a fifty years old. How come you already lost your stamina after an orgasm?”

“It’s not it! I’m just a bit tired after work.” You scowl, rolling your eyes at his teases. “You are so annoying.”

He smirks, pecking you in the lips. “But you love me, right?”

“My fault, I know.” You huff. In Seokjin's hearty smile, and you suddenly are  reminded of the photo of him Tasha posted this afternoon. 

“Seokjin. Can I ask you something?” You ask, fidgeting your finger. Seokjin hums. “You know, I saw Tasha posted a photo of you and Taehyun this morning. And I was just thinking… if you want a child?”

“What?” He looks down at you, a bit of confusion written on his face that it scares you he’ll not take this like you want him to.

“No, it’s just—I just think that you like kids very much and they like you too, I am just thinking if you want a child. I don’t mean it now, b-but if y-you want now—”

“Sweetheart, has this been bothering your mind when we had dinner? About having a child?”

You look down, suddenly not courageous enough to face him, afraid of finding the disappointment or doubt in his eyes. “Yes. No. Maybe? I don’t know.”

Seokjin closes you again now that you are chest by chest, face by face, his arms circling your back. “I want everything with you, Y/N. At the right place, at the right time.”

He continues, fixes your locks and rests a few lost strands behind your ear lovingly. “I know this has been hard, especially for you. Pregnancy, birthing is never easy, and I know it’s not really in your plan, even including me. So I will never force you to anything. I want everything you want, okay? And it’s your body. It’s your choice.”

You nod, burying your face on his shoulder, finding purchase on the musky scent of his. Oh, how much you love this man. “Thank you. I don’t know why you always have the rightest thing to say. I really, really envy and love you for it.”

“You went through for me. Of course I want to give you everything. I love you, Y/N, until the sea sleeps.” 

“Until the sea sleeps?” You cocks your head in questions. He nods affirmatively.

“Yes. If life is the sea, I want to go through it with you. Until it ends. Until it sleeps.” He plants kisses lovingly on your forehead, to your nose, and finally, to your lips. But at once you finally push him on his back, internally shouting in joy at his choice of grand large bed.

“How can you say such thoughtful and beautiful words with your dick is pressing on my stomach.“ You hisses in fake chagrin, before continuing. 

“I love you too, but for now let me ride you, daddy...” You whisper sensually, grinding at his half-erected cock. Seokjin smirks in amusement, resting both his palm behind his head as he enjoys the lewd sight, your breast jiggling wonderfully, your cold hands palming his dick.

Oh god, how much he loves you...

*

2 Years Later....

“Honey, can you help grabbing the diapers?” You pleaded from your bedroom, carefully cleaning your five months old baby girl, throwing away the spoiled diapers near your feet. Seokjin quickly arrives with a fresh set of diapers, baby oils, a fresh pair of baby overalls and beige shirt.

“Thank you, honey, you’re the best.” You smile as he pecks your lips slightly. You continue your work in changing Mina’s clothes as the baby lets out a light gurgles, Seokjin sitting across the bed, his lips curling at the beautiful sight. 

After finally falling in love with each other two years ago, you and Seokjin decided to go with your own pace and did not rush into having kids. It was the best decision after all, not a hint of doubts when you knew he’s just as invested as you are in this marriage. You decided to savor it all, both you and Seokjin took leave from work and humdrum life to explore the other side of world together. 

And eight months together passed, you and him both decided it would be the perfect time for you to start getting off the birth pill. Few months of trying and getting pregnancy, you and Seokjin are granted the beautiful healthy baby girl, whom both you named as Kim Mina.

Holding her then or now, you just know she’s already the best gift of your life that you’d do anything for her happiness and well being. 

“So, is Taehyung and Tasha anywhere near our house?” You ask, glancing at the clock. “They are probably the only people I’d worry at this point. All my work friends are already on the way. Yoongi is already in the way, right?”

“Yes he is. But no worry about Taehyung, sweetheart. I have made him promise or else he’ll have to be a clown for Mina’s birthday party.” Seokjin laughs. “All the food is served, everything is in the way it should be. We are going through this.”

“I can’t believe we’re finally having a housewarming party. And a baby too.” You laugh dreamily, picking up Mina to cradle on your chest. “Four years ago us would never believed this.”

“Four years ago Seokjin was a blind fool, I had to say. He almost missed the greatest woman on the planet.” Seokjin warmly back hugs you, kissing your cheek lovingly. You hum in mirth. “Luckily this greatest woman is willing to fight for him. The greatest gift for that lucky bastard, I have to say.”

“Well, she loved him too much, I have to say. It was all worth it.”

With the end of the sentence, a chime of bell is heard—somebody is coming. You quickly walk to the door with Seokjin on your side. The first one to arrive is Hoseok and Jungkook, the only single bachelor of the party. “Hi, Y/N, Seokjin! Congratulations, the house is incredible.” Both of them give you a sided hug, and Jungkook shoves two bottles of wine on your hold. 

“Drink up!” Jungkook giggles, kissing your baby’s cheek as he taps on Seokjin’s shoulder as a greeting, walking into your house to your tables of served dishes. 

In a spare of minutes, few of yours and Seokjin friends are walking in—Jane and her family, Namjoon and his wife and kid, and Yoongi with his girlfriend. You welcome them all with a wide smile, thankful for their presence.

Your parents and Seokjin’s surprisingly arrive right after each other, simultaneously gushing at their grandchild. “Mina! My very cute grandchild!” Your mother squeals in delight after giving you and Seokjin a greeting hug. Seokjin’s mother immediately scoops Mina out of your grasp, moving inside the house to play with her.

Walking around talking with your friends, another bell chime is heard from the door. You and Seokjin walk to open it, finding Jimin on the door with Yoonji, his wife of three months. Their face instantly lightens up at you, and you move to hug the blissful new couple. 

About Jimin, he finally moved back from Sydney to Seoul for good one and a half years ago. He was taking over a few branches of his father’s business, and you started rekindling the friendship with him. And you don’t want to brag, but you are the matchmaker for Jimin and Yoonji. She was the new assistant manager at your unit, and one dinner, you invited Jimin for dinner with your work friend’s and they instantly hit the bat right away. It doesn’t even take a year for Jimin to get on one knee and propose to her.

“Hi, Seokjin.” Jimin grins in courtesy. Seokjin answers with a laugh, pulling the younger guy into a side hug. You point Yoonji her way to Hoseok and Jungkook. “Congrats on the new house, man. This place is great.” Jimin sincerely compliments, handing him a large box of  housewarming gifts which Seokjin gladly receives with loud squeaky laughs of thank you.

It’s also been a year since Jimin had the talk with Seokjin, in which they bonded over alcohol and food. Jimin also apologized to what he did a few years back, and Seokjin instantly accepted it—no hard feelings, knowing that it was for the best as he finally found you, the best thing that happened to him. After that, Jimin basically joins the gang with Seokjin and Yoongi, and also hangs out with your friends slash his wife’s friend. It was all good.

After the housewarming party time finally arrives, the helper hands the drinks in tray for a toast. You lean onto Seokjin’s chest, as he begins the welcoming toast.

“Thank you everyone for coming. This hasn’t been a very easy ride with me and Y/N, but we are very thankful to where we are right now. A beautiful baby, a great house, a great loan—” Everyone chuckles at his joke. “ —but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I wanna say thank you to my wife, who has stood by me through thick and thin. I’d never be able to do it without you.”

Suddenly, the shouts to kiss are visible—high chance initiated by Jeon Jungkook—and you giggle before pressing a tender kiss to his lips. The aws are heard, and Seokjin looks back to the audience. “Thank you to my family and friends. Your great support is the reason we are here right now. I am very grateful.”

“Let’s toast, for this wonderful day. May we always be healthy and happy. Cheers!” Seokjin smiles and clinks his glass of champagne to yours. The sound of glass clinking against each other is heard simultaneously, and you sips on the beverage. Seokjin gazes down on you, a toxicated smile on his lips. 

“What?” You ask, falling a bit shy.

“I am so happy. You make me very happy, and I thank you for that.” He closes, resting his forehead on yours. “I love you, sweetheart. Until the sea sleeps.”

You hum in serenity, savoring his wondrous scent. “I love you too, baby. Until the sea sleeps.”

Suddenly, the doors are busted open, Taehyung rushed eyes staring confusedly at the large group of people settling on their places, Taehyun on his grasp. “Am I late? I don’t have to be a clown, right?!”

Just an disinterested glace before the crowd disperse around the home in group. Seokjin cunningly smirks at him, walking closer and taps his shoulder in a fake comforting manner. 

“Sorry, brother. Looking forward to you coming as a clown in Mina’s birthday party, okay?”

“Fuck.” He curses under his breath, but is not missed by your approaching mother-in-law. She immediately screeches loudly in anger, completely enraged with both hands on hips.

“Kim Taehyung! Your son is there, and you curse?! How dare you set out a bad example for your son?!”

He grimace, glaring at you and your husband who are laughing heartily at his clear misery.

“Lord, have your mercy.”

Thank you for reading! it’s such a great ride writing this. Credits to one quora answer I read that inspires this whole fluffy prompt. And all the smut writers that inspired me on writing such unholy scenes lol

Do slide into my ask box and let me know what you think! 🤩💜💌  And check out my other fics ➡ (click here)!

[rocorambles]

Assumptions

Pairing: Hinata x Reader x Kageyama

Genre: NSFW, Slight Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Mild Dub-con, Overstimulation

Summary: Your breath catches when a toothy smirk lights up his face. “Now, I think the idiot and I have months of teasing to pay you back for.” 

Requested by Anon

You lay your head on Hinata’s shoulder, giggling at something on the screen. Usually the redhead would be laughing right with you, but his mind is hardly on the episode of One Piece as he flushes at the feeling of your hair brushing against his neck and the warmth of your body seeping into his side. He thinks about how the two of you got here as he subtly takes comfort in the sweet smell of your shampoo. As a pro athlete, he had searched for a sports medicine doctor that he could go to regularly. Your office had been recommended to him by Bokuto, so one brisk Saturday morning, he had trekked over, excited to start talking about a nutrition plan and health regimen to keep him in top shape, when he opened the office door and saw you. He internally cringes in embarrassment when he remembers what a stuttering fool he had been at that first meeting, but you had been so kind and after a few appointments, he had finally been able to act like a relatively normal human being around you (well, as normal as Hinata could be anyway). 

It took almost half a year before he finally had the nerve to ask you to come to one of his volleyball matches, but the sight of you in the audience ignited something within him and he moved faster and jumped higher than he ever had before. A few more matches  with you watching and some encouragement from Bokuto finally had him nervously asking if you wanted to hang out sometime and he thought he would faint from sheer happiness when you said yes. Your hangouts had begun as just casual meals spent together, but as the two of you got to know each other better, you began to go to each other’s homes and throw on anime while the two of you played games or talked. He had been content just being around you, but one day while the two of you sat on his couch, something startled you on the screen and you had reached out to clutch his hand instinctively. Hinata blushed so hard his face almost matched the color of his hair and you had profusely apologized, but he had rapidly shook his head and sidled closer to you. Biting his lower lip nervously, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and his heart fluttered as you leaned into his touch and rested your head on his chest. 

Your physical contact never goes beyond innocent, flirtatious motions. A gentle connecting of hands, a warm embrace, a comforting hold. And Hinata relishes every moment of it. Every brush of your skin sparks a bolt of electricity within him and he begins to wonder what it would be like to have you by his side as more than just a friend. As he stares down at your face illuminated by the flickering screen, he promises himself that he’ll ask you to officially date him soon before returning his attention to the TV.

Finally finding the courage within himself to ask you the big question, he excitedly asks if you’re free this coming Saturday, but is crestfallen when you reply that you already had plans. He mopes with his phone in hand when a ball suddenly smacks him in the face. With a yelp and a glower, he looks up only to find Sakusa staring unamused at him and he sheepishly returns to practice, putting his thoughts of you on pause. The week passes and exhausted after the grueling practices, Bokuto, Atsumu, and he slump down at a nearby restaurant on Saturday to enjoy their day off together. The atmosphere is comfortable as the three teammates ramble aimlessly about different subjects when Bokuto gapes down at his phone screen. “Hey, hey, hey! I didn’t know Kageyama and Y/N knew each other.” Stunned to hear his old friend’s name and your name in the same sentence, Hinata grabs the phone out of Bokuto’s hands and stares in disbelief at the picture displayed. 

You look so cute in the Instagram picture and that’s all Hinata can focus on at first, but he scowls as he sees Kageyama standing next to you, holding a baby goat in his hands. He’s far too close to you and your arms are practically touching in the photo, but what enrages Hinata is the way Kageyama stares at you in the picture. He recognizes the look in his eyes. It’s a look he knows far too well. It’s a look he knows he wears every time you’re with him. He returns Bokuto’s phone with slumped shoulders as Bokuto excitedly wonders out loud when the two of you started dating. Dating? Were you two dating? Hinata pauses at that thought, but misery settles in his stomach when he concludes Bokuto’s probably right. That night, when he stands in his shower, he lets his tears mix with the water as he gives up on pursuing you. 

Kageyama grumbles as you shove the furry creature into his arms. He’s never had a good relationship with animals and he’s convinced that all animals just naturally dislike him. But you had given him those damn puppy eyes and insisted that you could prove him wrong, which is how you both find yourselves in a petting zoo now. He’s tense. He’s almost certain the baby goat in his arms is also tense. But as he watches you gently pet and coo at the little animal in his arms, he can feel his muscles relax and he continues staring, entranced by the soft smile that finds its way on your lips. 

You had also been recommended as a sports medicine doctor for him (turns out you were a favorite of many players in the Japanese Volleyball Association) and he remembers how awkward the first few appointments had been. He knows he’s not the most social person and he’d never talked to many members of the opposite sex before, so it had taken a while for the two of you to find a comfortable cadence. But you were patient and it didn’t take long before he felt at ease around you...so at ease that he had asked you if you wanted to get a milkshake with him after one of your sessions together. He doesn’t really know what drove him to ask you that, but he doesn’t regret it as it led to more milkshake and frozen yogurt hangouts (he had never really gotten over his love for milk). 

Your petting zoo outing comes to an end and you cheer on Kageyama for going out of his way to approach some of the other animals and successfully petting them. As he soothingly rocks a little piglet in his arms, he smiles at you and wonders if you two could be more than friends one day. With that thought tucked in the back of his mind, he walks you home before returning home and going to sleep.

Drenched with sweat and panting for breath, Kageyama takes advantage of the break his team is taking and quickly scans his phone. He rolls his eyes at the Snapchat notification he gets from Hinata and opens it, preparing himself for another idiotic photo, when he freezes. You’re adorable even in a plain t-shirt and shorts and your concentrated face as you try to jump and smack a volleyball down makes Kageyama’s heart clench. But his jaw clenches in irritation when the screen pans over to Hinata’s smiling face giving a peace sign to the camera and cheerily exclamining about how he’d make you a great ace in no time. How did the two of you know each other? You were so close that Hinata was teaching you volleyball? Why hadn’t you ever asked him to show you some stuff? His mind can only jump to one conclusion and he’s surprised his phone doesn’t break in his bone crushing grip as he grits his teeth at the realization that you two must be dating. He doesn’t fully understand why his heart hurts so much at the thought and why he can feel water pooling at the corner of his eyes, but any thought of you being more than a friend disappears as he gets back up and returns to the court.

A few months pass and the annual Japanese Volleyball Association formal takes place. Hinata walks around the venue catching up with familiar faces he’s played with over the season, but he tenses when he sees Kageyama. He mentally scolds himself. There’s no reason why he shouldn’t be anything other than happy to see one of his oldest and closest friends, but your face flashes in his head and he feels a pang in his heart as he begins chatting with the setter. They laugh and reminisce on their old high school days, but after a lull sets in, Hinata broaches the topic that’s been eating at him. “How are things with your girlfriend, Kageyama?” 

Kageyama chokes on his drink and stares incredulously at the redhead. “What are you talking about? I’m not dating anyone, boke.” Hinata stares at him, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, before bursting into a tirade of questions and interrogation. Kageyama’s brows furrow more and more as he starts making sense of the torrent of words coming out of the shorter male’s mouth. “Hinata, I thought YOU were dating her!” Both athletes stare at each other stunned and at first relief washes through both of them when they realize you’re still single, but lingering feelings of jealousy and frustration begin to rise up within them. Had you just been stringing the two of them along this whole time? Were you even interested in them? You had to be, right? Hinata thinks on the nights you’d cuddled with him on his couch. Kageyama remembers the times you’d wiped frozen yogurt off of his face for him with your fingers before playfully winking at him as you licked the remains off your hand. Yes, you had to be. Dark blue and hazel eyes meet and it feels like they’re back at Karasuno all over again, working together to defeat the other team and teach them a lesson about insulting the flightless crows. Except it’s only you on the other side of the net. It’s only you they’ll be teaching a lesson. 

When Hinata asks you to come over and hangout the following weekend, you think nothing of it and quickly agree, excited to spend some time with the bundle of energy. Walking inside his apartment, you’re ready to just start chatting when a figure on his couch leaves you speechless. “Kageyama, what are you doing here? You guys know each other?” Shocked, you stare at the two volleyball players in front of you and something primal flares inside of you at the intense gazes they pin you with. Hinata makes the first move and you’re stunned by the crashing of lips against yours. Instinctively you melt into the kiss, overwhelmed by the amount of excitement and energy behind it. It’s sloppy and wet, but that only fuels the fire beginning to burn in your stomach. Hinata pulls away first and as you both pant for breath, you shudder as sharp hazel eyes bore into you. “Wh-what-” You don’t even have time to stutter out a question before Hinata draws his face even nearer to yours until all you can smell is his citrusy scent. 

“You liked that, right? So you like me, right?” Before he can say anything else, he’s shoved aside and suddenly piercing blue eyes are right in front of you and your lips are once again captured, but this time it’s more careful, more precise, but no less intense as you whimper at the silent dominance. Kageyama lets you catch your breath and you dazedly stare at him as he searches your face for an answer. But an answer to what? “You liked that too, right? Does that mean you also like me? Do you like both of us?” 

Flabbergasted, you stand there without replying as you try to come to terms with the turmoil of emotions entangled within you. You’re not a fool. You know you’ve been flirting heavily with both athletes for a while now and it was only a matter of time before one or the other confronted you about it. But you certainly hadn’t expected both of them to do it at the same time. You stare up into their faces and you almost cower at how small you feel. Stature wise, you’ve always been a lot smaller than the two pro-athletes, but the feral intensity in both their eyes and the way their bodies are taut with nerves as they look down at you makes you feel miniscule. You’re positive you could literally cut the tension in the air as they wait for you to reply. But what could you reply with? The reason you hadn’t ever tried explicitly hinting at something more than close friendship was that you felt something for both of them. How was that fair to either of them? What kind of slut isn’t satisfied with just one person? They deserve something better. Someone who can fully devote and love them fully.

You don’t realize you’ve voiced your thoughts out loud until you're knocked out of your rambling by strong arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into a firm chest. Tears well in your eyes as you feel the rumble of Hinata’s voice from your position. “You’re so silly, Y/N. I wish you had told us how you felt sooner. We don’t care about any of that. We only want you.” You stare up into Hinata’s grinning face and you feel a watery smile twitch at your lips, but you turn your head around at the feeling of strong hands on your shoulders. Kageyama has a smaller smile on his face, but your heart melts at the affection in his eyes as he nods in agreement with Hinata’s words. But your breath catches when a toothy smirk lights up his face. “Now, I think the idiot and I have months of teasing to pay you back for.” Those words are barely out of the setter’s mouth when you’re picked up bridal style by the redhead and rushed over to his bedroom.

You knew Hinata was abnormally fast, but you’re still caught off-guard by how quickly you’re thrown on his bed and your brain can barely keep up with the speed in which he strips down and positions himself on top of you, toned arms on either side of your face and muscular thighs spreading your legs apart. You moan into the fervent kiss he plants on your lips and you swear it feels like the sun is shining on you, but you bite your lip in anticipation as he quickly works his way down your body, pushing your shirt and bra up and sliding your pants and panties off while kissing as much of your skin as he can access. You flush when you look down and just see him staring in amazement at your most intimate part. Out of self-consciousness, you try to close your legs, but his hands gently hold your thighs in place as he continues to take in the sight. “Oi, Hinata, are you actually going to do anything or are you just going to sit and stare at her like an idiot?” Hinata scowls at Kageyama, but he immediately dives into your drenched heat and you wail at the feeling of a tongue and lips eagerly lapping every drop of your essence. You’re overwhelmed by the enthusiasm behind his actions and you begin panting as you try to keep up with the way he seems to suck and lick every inch of your lower mouth. Your back arches as he goes even deeper and his tongue swirls at a rapid pace within you. He hasn’t even touched your clit and yet you can feel the flood of juices pouring out of you in streams that Hinata’s quick to slurp up. 

Kageyama observes your face twisted in ecstasy, trying to memorize every expression you make, but not wanting to be outdone by Hinata, he leans over and sucks on one of your already hardened nipples while his hand toys with the other. You feel delirious at the feeling of multiple mouths and hands on you and you try to push the two of them away, telling them you’re about to cum and that you’d rather cum with their cocks inside you, but they just intensify their actions and you scream as you reach your peak when Hinata frantically flicks your clit with his tongue and Kageyama gives a harsh pinch to one of your nipples. Exhausted, you slump down into the sheets, but you yelp as strong hands grab your waist and you feel something hard begin to push into your still sensitive walls. “Hinata, no! It’s too soon-AH.” Your eyes roll back at the feeling of Hinata bottoming out inside of you, stretching you so well and you stare dumbly up into Kageyama’s smirking face as he leers down at you. “One orgasm isn’t going to cut it. You owe us a lot more for leading us both on for months. We’re not stopping until Hinata and I both feel like you’ve learned your lesson.”

You can’t even think about replying as broken cries leave your mouth with every thrust of Hinata’s hips. He’s pistoning in and out of you so fast, giving you no chance to adjust to his pace or size and you sob in pleasure at the mix of pain and pleasure lancing through you with every movement. You clutch at his forearms, trying to ground yourself, but it’s no use and your body continues writhing as you feel yourself reaching the top of the cliff once more. Seeing the way your body is beginning to tighten, Kageyama resumes working over your nipples and that’s all it takes for your mouth to open in a silent scream as your body spazzes and twitches as your release hits you. Hinata moans at the way you tighten around him and the way your pussy clenches around his throbbing cock and with a few more snaps of his hips, he joins you in post-orgasmic bliss. 

Your brain feels like mush and you don’t even acknowledge the feeling of Hinata slipping out of you as you lay there, toes and fingers still twitching every now and then as lingering pleasure trails through your nerves. But you almost sob as you feel your body once again being rearranged as a longer frame hovers above you. Kageyama leans down to gently kiss you. “One more. Be good and give me one more.” You clench your eyes at the feeling of a longer shaft penetrating you, reaching further than Hinata had and lust once again begins to painfully coil within you. You’re thankful for the fact that Kageyama’s movements are slower as he starts a languid pace, but moans begin to spill out of your lips as you fully experience and feel the way his length drags and slides against your quivering walls. Every movement is carefully measured and Kageyama watches you with hawk eyes as he continues his thorough assault. You take comfort in the way Hinata lies by your side and soothingly strokes your hair and murmurs how beautiful you are and it’s the mix of praise and pleasure that have you falling apart a third time and you bury yourself in Hinata’s hold as you ride out your orgasm. It feels impossibly good, but it’s laced with pain as it takes everything in your body to contract and break apart again without the chance to fully put itself together. It doesn’t take much longer for Kageyama to follow you as he groans at the view of your face contorted in pleasure and his hips speed up as he loses himself in the warmth of your cunt until he fully settles within you with a final grind of his hips as he fills the rubber encasing him. 

Your arched back collapses and you bonelessly lie there with unseeing eyes as overexertion and mind-numbing pleasure crash down upon you. Hinata continues cuddling you and affirming how good you were for them as Kageyama cleans the three of you with a wet cloth. Your throat is hoarse and you couldn’t even move your spent body if you wanted to, but as Hinata continues filling your ears with sweet words and as Kageyama protectively holds you close, there’s no place you’d rather be.        

[imaginethatneathuh]

The Hermit: Technical Boy - American Gods

Technical Boy x child!reader, father-child

Technical Boy needs to get away from the Drugs gods for a bit and comes across a kid.

Part of @dragon430’s Tarot Troop.

TW/CW: Blood, skull-cracking, hospitals, swearing, near-death experience (and making light of it), drugs, sex, starvation, adoption, fostering.

Word count: 3.6+ K

•

Sometimes, Technical Boy just needed some air. Everybody does, but with him, it was more of a necessity so he wouldn’t blow up at someone.

Sex (the druggie) had been teasing him a lot more than usual and he hated it. Sure, Weed and Coke tried to get her to stop, but she started doing it behind their backs, and if Technical Boy told Weed about it, he’d be a snitch. He did not want to be known as a snitch bitch amongst the drug gods. That would be a nightmare.

He could have asked for Weed to help him calm down, but he didn’t feel like calming down that way. He wanted some peace, not to get high.

So, here he was, walking down some random street in some random city because he didn’t want to be anywhere near the druggies.

Yes, they’re his best, and only, friends, but he doesn’t always want to get high. Being around them, usually meant getting high off them. Sometimes, it’s nice. Sometimes, it’s not.

Technical Boy, in a dice hoodie with the hood up and black sweatpants with fire at the bottom, stared at his phone, scrolling through the news.

It was a lot of shitty stuff.

He wasn’t surprised by that. The others, “family” of the druggies, were at it again. Those of that sort, those with the brown hair and eyes, it’s like they were born to create chaos and discord in the world.

Technical Boy rolled his eyes, scoffing. He slipped his phone away and stuffed his hands in his pockets. The god turnt to the sky, eyes closed.

As he walked, passing by an alley, Technical Boy heard quiet sniffling.

Instead of stopping, he kept walking.

There were plenty of homeless people in the world. Not everyone is lucky enough to be born into wealth or lucky enough to be able to keep their homes. Some people get shitty deals.

Nothing he could do about it. Nothing World would allow anyway.

Still, the god noticed that the sniffing was much higher pitched than normal, adult sniffling. He had an entire database of sounds at his fingertips, and as a part of him and his domain. It sounded like the sniffles of a child crying.

He stopped and hung his head.

‘This had better not be a kid,’ he thought to himself.

He didn’t like children, in theory. He’d never actually met one but from movies and shows, they seemed insane. It’s likely, upon meeting one, he wouldn’t know what to do.

Technical Boy wasn't good with regular adults. Dealing with a child would be impossible.

So, instead of assuming he was right and the sniffling was coming from a child, he decided he was wrong and approached the alley’s mouth as if an adult was in there.

“Hey, man, you okay?” He asked.

The god peered in, trying to make out anyone.

Something small shifted around. It was far too small to be an adult like he’d hoped. The small thing poke its head out from underneath a small, makeshift cave of junk. It quickly hid after seeing the god.

Technical Boy looked around and sighed, shutting his eyes.

‘It takes, in total, from 0-18-years-old, $284,570 to raise a kid, and a good chunk of a parent’s day to take care of a kid,’ he thought. ‘I have the money, but I don’t have the time.’ He opened his eyes and looked at the makeshift shelter. ‘Why the fuck is my first thought taking care of the kid? I could drop them off at a home or something. That’d be easier.’ He walked closer, trying not to scare them. ‘But the foster system here is fucked. The kid could get hurt, be abused, or die.’ As he approached, he noticed the kid watching him. ‘But there are tons of good families who foster and adopt, too. They’re not all bad. 1.5 million kids have been adopted and roughly 140,000 kids are every year. So, there’s a good chance the kid will become a part of a family.’

The kid pushed themself away from the opening and into their shelter.

“Hey,” he said. “Hi, are you okay?”

Technical Boy knelt down and watched for the kid.

“Leave me alone. I’m fine. Go away,” they said.

There was a silence. The god did not leave.

“Please, go away?”

‘The kid sounds weak. Like they haven’t eaten in days. When was the last time they showered or took a bath, too? I can smell ‘em even from over here.’ Despite the disgusting alley floor, Technical Boy seated himself.

“Nope. Can’t. Brain won’t let me.”

An old, rusted out can came from the shelter, flying straight at Technical Boy. He easily dodged it.

“Wow, you’re a dick,” he joked.

He heard a small huff.

Slipping his hands into his pant pockets, he found candy, probably chocolate, that he’d forgotten about.

‘This is so not healthy for a kid,’ he thought, playing with the wrapper in his pocket. ‘But, it’s better than nothing.’ He took the candy out, finding a Snickers. ‘Called it.’

“Hey, you like chocolate?” He asked them.

More shuffling from the shelter. “No. Especially not from a stranger.”

“Here.” He tossed the Snickers into the mouth of the shelter. “Have a Snickers. It has nuts.”

A thin hand reached out and snatched the candy quick as a whip.

The tech god raised an eyebrow. “Thought you didn’t like chocolate.”

Another can came from the darkness and he dodged it again.

The kid unwrapped the bar and used the wrapper to fill a gap in their home. Hungry, they scarfed the candy down.

‘So small. The kid must be starving.’ Technical Boy continued to watch the mouth of the shelter, his concern for the kid growing.

“You always around here?” He asked.

A small piece of glass was thrown at him but it didn’t get very far, falling an inch or so away from him.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Technical Boy stood up and brushed himself off. “I’ll see you later.”

He knew it would be impossible to convince the kid to come out of their hole and come with him on the first meeting, but he hoped to convince them to go into foster care sooner rather than later. If he tried to tell the authorities, the kid could get hurt or worse.

He left the alley and the kid watched him do so.

•

Technical Boy, in the druggies’ kitchen, placed an apple and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in a bag.

Weed walked in, smiling. “Whatcha doin’?”

He looked over, a water bottle in his hand. “Nothing,” he said, turning back to the bag. “Just making a bag of food.” He cracked open the bottle and closed it again.

“Who’s it for,” they asked.

The tech god shrugged, putting a small stack of crackers and a container of cut cheese in the bag.

Weed wrapped their arms around his waist and rested their head on his back.

After closing the bag, he placed a hand on Weed’s, chuckling. “I’ve got to go, Weed.”

“First, tell me who the bag is for,” they mumbled.

He shrugged again. “I don’t know,” he said before he turnt around to face them. “But, as soon as I learn what their name is, I’ll tell you.” He booped their nose with a smile. “Promise.”

Weed giggled, sleepiness in their eyes.

Coke rushed in and grabbed an apple off the table, one from Weed’s garden. He stopped before he left and turnt around. “Are you two having cute times without me?” He asked, with a goofy smile.

“No,” Technical Boy said as Weed rested on his chest. “I was trying to leave, but Weed is sleepy.”

Coke bit the apple and walked over before picking Weed up. They wrapped their arms around him, nuzzling into him.

“Thank you, C,” the tech god said, earning a nod from Coke who practically ran out of the room with the apple in his mouth and Weed in his arms. “Don’t fall!” He shouted after them. Technical Boy picked up the bag and left for the alley.

•

The kid shoved a few cans into place on their mountain of junk. Technical Boy watched them work for a little, not wanting to interrupt until they were done. When they finished and started to head into their home, he approached.

“Hey, kid,” he said. “Brought you something.”

The kid, at the mouth, stared at him like a deer in headlights before rushing into their cave.

Technical Boy sighed and walked to it. “Ya know, I ain’t gonna hurt ya, kid.” He dropped off the bag of food at the mouth of the cave before sitting down farther away.

They snatched it up as soon as they thought he was far enough away.

Technical Boy sat, crossed-legged, and watched for any signs of anger..

“You trying to poison me?” They asked.

His brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Cap’s been opened.” The water bottle rolled to his feet.

He rolled it back. “Nope. I opened it for you. Those fucker’s are annoying and the ridges hurt.”

The bottle slipped into the darkness.

The kid, inside, sipped on it. “Tastes gross,” they said, pulling a face.

“It’s bottled water. It never tastes right.”

The two sat in relative silence as cars drove past and the kid ate. The occasional pedestrian peeked into the alley, giving Technical Boy odd looks, but he didn’t particularly care. He was used to it.

As the kid finished, they asked, “Why’d you come back?”

“Felt like it.”

“Why’d you bring me food?”

“Felt like it.”

“Are you a rapist?”

“No. You?”

They laughed a little. “No. Are you a peadophile?”

“No. That’s gross.”

“Are you going to tell the police where I am?”

Technical Boy sighed. “If I wanted to do that, I would have done it yesterday.”

“You gonna kidnap me and sell my organs on the blackmarket?”

“Sounds like too much work,” he said, stretching. “I’d rather hire someone to do that for me instead.”

Crunching came from the dark hole. It wasn’t cracker crunching. More like, a horse mowing down on a carrot or apple.

“This tastes good.”

“Yeah, a friend of mine grows their own food. Doesn’t like the food from stores. I’m pretty sure they want to start raising livestock, but, I don’t know.”

“Mhmm,” they said before tossing the core over his head into a nearby dumpster. “Do you think you could bring more?”

Technical Boy nodded. “Definitely. If my other friends don’t eat them all first. But, harvest was good, so I doubt they’ll all be gone.” Technical Boy pulled out his phone and texted Weed. “I’ll text them to hide some of the apples from the others just in case though.”

Carefully, the kid peered out, staring at his phone.

“There. Done,” he said, putting his phone away. “They’ll hide some for ya.”

A can came at him but he ducked.

“You told them?” They growled.

Technical Boy put his hands up in surrender.. “Woah, hold your horses there, kid. I haven’t said shite to anyone. I just asked them to put some of the apples away, that’s all.”

Inside the hole, they looked him up and down. “Can I have my can back?”

“No, it’s mine now.” The god pulled the can behind him protectively.

The kid giggled.

A text popped up on his phone. Technical Boy looked down at it and rolled his eyes.

“What?” The kid asked.

“Nothing, just my boss being a dick.”

The container Technical Boy had filled with cheese rolled out on it’s side.

He opened it to find a few crackers and some cheese. “I made the bag for you, kid. Not for me.”

“I know. I just don’t want you to be hungry.”

“Thanks.” He smiled softly and ate the cheese and crackers even if he didn’t really want to.

“My name’s not kid, ya know,” they said. “It’s Y/N.”

“Technical Boy.”

“That’s a weird fucking name.”

The god shrugged. “Should a kid your age be swearing like that?”

They shrew a can at him. Instead of dodging, he caught it and put it behind him with the other can. “Mine,” he said.

“Nuh-uh!” They said. “Gimme my can back!”

Technical Boy shook his head. “Nope. You threw it away meaning anyone can claim it. So, I did.”

Y/N huffed. “Dick.”

•

Weeks passed and every single day, without fail, Technical Boy came to Y/N’s little home with food and conversation. Once or twice, he brought clothes and blankets. He very well couldn’t let the kid freeze. What kind of person would he be if he did? Even though both Media and World didn’t like his disappearing acts and he got repeatedly scolded and punished for it, he didn’t care. For some reason, he found he had grown rather fond of the rude kid. He liked to believe they had begun to like him, too. Even if it was just a little, itty-bitty bit. The god no longer wanted to let them go into the foster system, rather, he wished to take care of them himself. But he knew Y/N wouldn’t agree, no matter how much they liked him. They were much too independent for that.

Since he’d started coming, little Y/N had grown in both width and height. No longer skin and bones, they moved around more and even left the confines of their home for more than building.

“I’m stronger now, so I can kick you better if you try anything,” they had claimed.

Technical Boy chose to see this as them trusting him more.

•

Technical Boy dropped off a bag of food at the mouth of Y/N’s home and sat farther away.

Y/N came out, sitting in front of the mouth in the light. They opened up the bag and smiled.

“Apples,” they mumbled.

Technical Boy smiled as they rifled through the bag. “Yeah, that’s the last of ‘em, though. Won’t be more until the next harvest.”

“Thanks.” Y/N looked up and gave him a pained smile before looking back down.

He shrugged and played with one of his confiscated cans. “It’s whatever, kiddo.”

Y/N tossed him a fruit snack baggie. He caught it but dropped his can.

“Ya gotta stop doing this, N/N,” he said, opening the baggie. “You need to eat more than I do.”

They flipped him off.

As he ate the gummies, he watched Y/N scarf down everything. At least that hadn’t changed.

“How are you feelin’? You think you’ll be okay here during the colder months? They are getting closer,” he said.

They looked up, some jelly on their mouth. Y/N wiped it away. “I’ll probably be fine. More fat means more insulation. Plus the blankets you gave me.” They picked at the sandwich. “Are you still going to come, even when it snows?”

“Of course, kiddo. Come rain or shine, hail or snow, I’ll be here until you don’t want me to be.”

Y/N stared at him for a while before crawling into their home. Inside, they rummaged through their things, pulling out bits of scrap and pushing away blankets. After a while, they found what they had been searching for and returned to the outside world.

Outside, they stood up and walked over to Technical Boy. They presented him a beaten up and squashed Snickers bar and refused to look at him while doing so.

Gently, the god took it from them. A Snickers bar, just like the one he’d given them when they first met. A strange, warm feeling spread throughout his chest and he smiled.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Instead of going back to the cave, they plopped down next to him and wrapped their arms around one of his. They nuzzled into his arm and held on tight.

It was a rather odd sight. A much larger, muscled man with an odd style choice and a clean visage being clung onto by a small, dirty child no older than 10, no younger than 5.

Looking down at the kid, Technical Boy knew he had to protect them, no matter what. This was his kid now. They had been for some time.

•

Another day, another bag for Y/N.

Technical Boy did as he always did, placed the bag at the mouth of the makeshift shelter and sat down opposite of it.

But, Y/N did not come out.

The god waited for a few minutes. When they still had not come out, he called for them. Still, there was no response. Technical Boy stood and walked over.

Placing a hand on the top of the mouth, he looked inside. “Y/N, hey, are you okay?”

Y/N lay limp in the makeshift nest.

“Y/N?” He nudged their legs with one of his hands.

Still, they didn’t respond.

Crawling a little into the small space as best he could, Technical Boy shook Y/N’s shoulders. “Y/N, wake up. Kid, please. This isn’t funny.”

Nothing.

At this point, the god had gone from fine to freaking.

Wrapping an arm around them, he pulled them out of their shelter.

A giant, bloody gash spread around their eye and eyebrow. He could feel blood on the opposing side like they’d been hit with something and cracked their head on concrete. They were cold, freezing really.

‘Please, be okay,’ he thought.

Their back pressed up against his chest, Technical Boy, through his tears, gently smack their cheek.

No response.

He calmed his breathing, shutting his eyes tight. ‘They can’t be gone. Not yet.’

Hoping beyond hope, Technical Boy checked their pulse, pressing his fingers to their neck over one of the carotid arteries.

After a few minutes of silence, he could feel a faint heartbeat.

They were alive.

The god let out the breath he’d been holding, sighing in relief.

His kid was going to be okay.

He stood up. Picking them up bridal-style, he held them close.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered to them. “You’re gonna be okay.”

•

Pacing in the waiting room, Technical Boy picked at his lip.

‘I should have asked them to come with me,’ he thought. ‘I should have made them come with me. This could have been avoided if I had just taken them. They’d be fine right now if I hadn’t wanted to respect their autonomy. The streets are no place for a kid.’

He sat down in one of the chairs, elbows on his knees. His hands interlaced in prayer and he bowed his head. Though he trusted his technology to save them, he couldn’t help but pray they would be okay. Almost immediately, his heel started bouncing against the tile.

“Mr Brown?” Someone asked.

Technical Boy looked up and then stood. “Are they okay?”

The person smiled, probably a doctor, and nodded. “Their skull had been cracked open and they lost a lot of blood, but they’ll be okay,” they said.

“When can I see them?” He crossed his arms, watching the doctor for their reaction.

“You can go to the room, but they won’t be awake for some time.”

“That’s fine. I just- I need to see them.”

They nodded, smiling sympathetically, and gestured for him to follow them.

•

The doctor showed him to Y/N’s room and gestured for him to go in.

Technical Boy, as soon as he laid his eyes on them, sighed in relief.

The bandages surrounded their head and one covered the gash around their eye and eyebrow.

He walked to their side, his eyes never leaving them. As he got to their side, he gently cupped their cheek and rubbed it. He knelt down.

“I’m sorry, N/N. I should have given you some way to contact me or something,’ he whispered to them.

•

The first thing the kid felt when they woke up was something in their arm. It wasn’t painful, just weird. The second, and more enjoyable, feeling was someone holding their hand and the warmth coming from it. Y/N groaned slightly and opened their eyes, only to find Technical Boy gripping their hand, asleep, with his head resting on the bed.

The view looked strikingly similar to their dad when they were younger.

“Tech?” They asked, struggling to get the nickname out.

When he didn’t respond, they nudged him. He groaned a little. Struggling, Y/N got up, feeling a little lightheaded, and, still gripping Technical Boy’s hand, they tugged on him.

The god groaned again and rubbed his eye with his free hand. “Hey, kiddo,” he said, looking up at them. “How ya feelin’?”

They tugged on him again and mumbled something.

“What?”

“Hug.”

Technical Boy chuckled and leant forward, hugging them tight.

Y/N hugged back, nuzzling into his neck.

“You fucking scared me, kid,” he said. He rubbed their back gently as he broke away from them.

Y/N immediately took his hand back, not wanting to be seperate from him. “Feel like I got hit by a brick and cracked my skull open on the sidewalk before crawling back home,” they rightfully complained.

Technical Boy rubbed their cheek, concerned. He dropped his hand and took their other one into his. “I know you probably prefer being on your own, but I really care about what happens to you and I don’t want you to be on your own,” he said as he looked them in the eye.

“Whatcha sayin’?”

“If you want, my place is plenty big for two people and it’s always open to you.”

Y/N was quiet. So quiet, in fact, Technical Boy thought they might have shut down like they always did when he said something they didn’t like and didn’t have something to throw at him.

“Will it be safe?” They asked.

He nodded.

“Okay, but I’m not calling you dad.”

Technical Boy chuckled lightly. “I wouldn’t expect you to, kiddo.”

[ddaenggtan]

midnight wishes | knj [M]

Granny Park's Gossip:

That boy. Never met anyone as prone to disaster as he is while being so damned smart, except maybe that roommate of his. The two of them could probably cure cancer if they wanted to, but you leave them alone for more than a few seconds and you’re liable to come back to disaster. Jiminie did say they’ve been acting a little different, though, maybe they finally wised up and made things official instead of just humping like bunnies around that apartment of theirs. Oh, am I not supposed to say that?

pairing } namjoon x reader 

word count } 10.3k { also on ao3

genre } Fluff, Smut, the smallest possible dash of angst; FWB au, Roommates au, coworkers au, slight idiots to lovers but like. lowkey. 

warnings } smut, the most smut, all the smut. Namjoon In Glasses bc that deserves its own tag. there’s multiple smutty parts, several less explicit and then one very very super explicit so for those: oral female, oral male, fingering, deepthroating, protected sex, unprotected sex, mention of semi-public sex, mentions of a sir kink, some very accidental cum eating that is hilarious and disgusting all at once. Namjoon and Slick are both complete and utter idiots, like it’s genuinely a miracle that they’ve lived this long, especially when paired together. 

{ The Snowball Effect Collab Masterlist } 

a/n } hello it is i with yet another fic. it’s done. i. have a lot of emotions bUT that’s neither here nor there. This is part of The Snowball Effect collab, and while it can be read as a standalone, all the fics end in the same spot and there are so many crossovers that it legitimately hurts to think about for too long, so for the best and funniest and fluffiest experience, we recommend that you read all of them in order!! Special shoutout to ashley, kristi, and ryn (@taehyungforreal, @stutterfly, and @fortunexkookie​, respectively) for letting me part of this wonderful adventure. i’m more honored than i could ever say with words, and i’m grateful every day that i got the chance to work with all of you on this absolutely phenomenal collab. for those of you who are just now seeing this, i implore you to read the others, as they are literal light years better than this, and i could not possibly live up to the absolute beauty of the other authors in this collab, but i still hope you enjoy my shiny garbage child aka this fic.

The first time you ever saw Kim Namjoon was on your very first day at the lab where you both work. You won't ever forget it, not because he's the walking embodiment of beauty nor because he's the most intelligent person you've ever met besides yourself. No, that day stays firmly implanted in your memory because that was the day the two of you nearly got fired for setting the building on fire.

In a genetics lab. 

You don't even work with chemicals. Maybe if you did, they would have been more understanding, but you don't and instead, everyone was completely flabbergasted that the two of you very nearly destroyed the building because you tried to reheat your leftover Chinese food - and really, how perfect is it that he also prefers the place across town instead of on the corner, and that he eats all the vegetables you pick out of your rice while you eat the eggrolls he isn't a fan of - in the microwave at the same time. Sure, your IQ is close to 300 when combined, but also, how are you supposed to remember that the bottom part of the takeout is made of foil? You were trying to single out a gene sequence that might help cancer research. Microwaves were not important. 

Until it exploded a little and set the fire suppression systems off in all the labs and affected several billion dollars worth of research. 

Honestly, the two of you are lucky you still have your jobs.

Less lucky that the insurance company wouldn't pay for the entire cost so both you and Namjoon had to take pretty severe pay cuts to help cover the costs.

Even less lucky that it means you could no longer afford your apartment by yourself and subsequently had to try to find a roommate in less than a week, which the internet is not helpful for, it doesn't matter what your coworkers say.

Which really just highlights that it's your own fault that you're in this situation in the first place, you think as you slam back another shot. It's been months, and yes, you found a roommate, and yes , things between the two of you are working better than you could have imagined, but god , at what cost?

You catch a glimpse of dimples heading your way and down the rest of the Kamikaze that you've been nursing all night. You might regret that later, the alcohol might make you do something you'd never do otherwise, but you can always pretend you don't remember. Besides, it's so much harder to handle Namjoon while you're completely sober; you never quite know what to say or what to do.

He doesn't bother to sit in the empty stool beside you, just slides into the space between you and it and lets one arm rest casually on the back of your barstool as he leans in to be heard over the live band that's playing. You don't look at him, you don't trust yourself to look at him, not with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons undone. You know he looks deliciously rumpled. You're entirely too familiar with the sight.

"Are you ready to go?" He asks. You shrug even as you start pulling your coat on, doing your best to ignore the way the heat of his breath brushed over your neck in the way that always gets you hot and bothered. "We don't have to if you don't want to," He says quickly, but you wave him off.

"No, it's fine, I promise. I'm not enjoying the band as much as I thought I would anyway."

When the ride you summoned stops at your apartment building, Namjoon pays and follows you up. The alcohol has started seeping into your bloodstream, and for a moment you regret that last drink. You're not drunk, not really, but you're on the farther side of tipsy and thoughts are swirling in your head that you wish would go somewhere else. Plus you're really fucking hungry now, and also kinda tired, and you're really glad tomorrow's Saturday so you can sleep in.

"What's got you in your head?" Namjoon asks as you fumble to unlock the door. You just shrug noncommittally, unwilling to tell him about it. He doesn't pry either, just sets to work pulling leftover tacos out of the fridge and sticking them in the microwave, remembering at the last second to take the plastic off the top so your food doesn't get coated in melted saran wrap. The two of you eat in relative silence before you manage to make yourself go into your room and strip out of your work clothes and then slide under the covers.

You don't listen as he goes into the room across the hall, you don't listen as the shower starts up, you don't listen at the off-key singing that he does. You don't. You can't let yourself, because then your drunk ass won't be able to keep your mouth shut the next time you see him - as you're both eating breakfast tomorrow, probably - and you'll say some super embarrassing shit like "hey I know it's partially my fault you couldn't afford your rent and you know I'm really grateful that you moved in with me, but you're also like hot as the surface of the sun and your dimples are really cute too, please fuck me stupid, I'm literally begging you."

Because that's the issue with living and working with Namjoon. There is no escape. Before you could come home and masturbate in peace while thinking about how his chest looks so utterly perfect in those button-ups, and how the muscles in his forearm flex when he's got his sleeves rolled up, and how his jaw does that muscle clench thing whenever he's focused on something.

But no. Now he lives with you , and not only are you both on the same schedules and therefore he’s never not home when you are, therefore depriving you of your precious Alone Time, but! You get a front-row view to how he looks in the mornings, with his hair all messy, and how he always forgets that the flavor packet goes in the ramen after you cook it, and how he bundles up every time he goes on walks with Moni, and-

The door to the bathroom creaks open and you force your eyes not to close. You inspect the stuccoed ceiling the entire time it takes his footsteps to make it into his room because otherwise, you're just going to remember that first week after he moved in, when he would have to go to his room with just a towel around his waist because his clothes were in boxes and he hadn't unpacked and he'd forgotten to take anything in the bathroom with him.

The memory of his absolutely fucking ridiculous pectorals dripping with water and his god damn superb biceps flexed and delicious-looking, none of it hidden under the slightly-too-big shirts he wears to work...it haunts you. To this day.

The sound of his door closing echoes through the hall and into your room. It’s through an incredibly impressive force of will that you don’t imagine what he’s doing right now, just across the hall. You resolutely do not imagine him sliding that towel from around his waist and revealing the gorgeous glistening golden thighs that strain against his work khakis so wonderfully. Nor do you think of the way he twists his neck to pop it while he does his after-shower stretches - because that’s a normal thing that normal people totally do - and you absolutely are not thinking of the way the scent of sandalwood and steam trails after him when he’s freshly showered and you are definitively not thinking about-

A loud, high-pitched moan followed by the slapping of skin on skin echoes through the apartment, jolting you upright and out of your thoughts as you stare in shock at the back of your bedroom door. 

Something thuds against the carpeted floor of Namjoon’s room and the sound abruptly cuts off. The silence that follows is deafening, and your ears ring with it. 

Surely….surely he wasn’t….

A thought, unbidden and cursed, flits through your mind before you can stop it. You can’t even blame the residual alcohol in your body for the way you stand and open your bedroom door, or how you slip your super soft silk robe over your shoulders and tie it loosely around your waist, nor for the way you take the two steps to stand in front of Namjoon’s, but you absolutely blame your quickly-returning sobriety for the way you hesitate in front of it. 

He’s going to say no, anyway, so what’s the harm? Things are awkward for a day or two and then we move on, right?

You knock before you can talk yourself out of it. It takes a few minutes, but Namjoon does eventually open the door. His chest is still bare but he’s got on the soft-looking plaid pajama pants that you adore, albeit they are on backwards , and his face is flushed with color. 

You're 98% sure that it's because he just had his hand around his cock. You're significantly less sure if you hate or love the fact that you know that. 

“Hey,” You say awkwardly. 

“Hey,” He responds, just as awkward. 

You both stand there for a second while you work up the courage to ask what’s been going around and around in your mind. 

“I just heard that thud and got worried,” is what eventually makes it out. Namjoon’s face flushes further, and his nose scrunches in the cutest way. “Just...wanted to make sure you weren’t, y’know. Dead. Haha.”

He smiles at your laugh, even though it’s dead and humorless, and warmth blooms in your chest. 

“I’m alright. Sorry for any, uh…” He squints, clearly searching for the word he wants to use that won’t immediately give him away - like the entire apartment building hadn’t heard that noise. “Disturbances.”

“Oh, no, you’re fine!” You tell him, rubbing the back of your neck. “I was just. Uh. Y’know how bonobos will often have recreational sex with non-monogamous partners just because they’re bored or as a way to work out the tension between members of the unit-groups and they enjoy said recreational sex, even though there’s no real emotional attachment to the other parties involved?”

Namjoon stares at you for a long, silent moment. 

“Yeah, I know about bonobos,” He eventually says. “I didn’t know that about bonobos, but I guess that’s the fun fact quota for the day.”

Your face heats and you’ve never quite wished the ground would swallow you up until this very moment. 

“Oh,” You say, dumbly. “Well. That’s a thing. That bonobos do.”

“I got that,” Namjoon says. He bites down on his lower lip in what’s probably an innocuous way to not smile at how ridiculous you’re being, but when paired with the golden expanse of chest, it’s utterly obscene. 

“Would you like to have recreational sex with me?” 

“ What? ”

“No strings attached, no feelings, nothing but some nice fun recreational intercourse between two consenting adults of sound mind. Would you be interested?”

“I...why are you asking me? ” He asks incredulously, and you resist the urge to kiss the surprise off his face. How is it surprising at all when he walks around looking like that ?

“Because in the time we’ve known each other as coworkers, roommates, and friends, I think we could be very sexually compatible and even if we aren’t, I’m confident enough in our friendship to believe we could still be friends afterward.” You tell him firmly. “Besides, you’re literally the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, why wouldn’t I want to have sex with you?”

“You’re...serious about this? You’re not playing some kind of joke on me?” 

“Why would I play a joke on you, Namjoon? I haven’t been able to get off for literal weeks - ever since you moved in, actually - and I’m at a bit of a breaking point.”

“And you’re not drunk?”

“Completely sober,” You assure him. He curses under his breath and runs a hand over his jaw, not making eye contact as he considers. It’s the same thoughtful expression that he gets when he’s trying to figure out some complex equation at work. With how long it’s been since you last came, however, it’s only making you wetter. 

"Fuck it," He mutters, seconds before his hands cup your jaw to pull you into a kiss. 

It's awkward at first, the two of you trying to find a rhythm that you both enjoy while still being able to breathe. His lips are slightly chapped and you both stumble as he starts walking backwards towards the bed, but it's so wonderful. His hand against your jaw is warm and comforting, even as his other hand is slipping teasingly under your robe and his teeth suckle a mark into your collarbone. 

Movement on the bed catches your attention and you flush when you realize it's Moni, Namjoon's very sweet dog that came with him when he moved in. 

"Uh, Namjoon?" You breathe. It's hard to focus on anything that isn't the way he's teasing at the band of your panties, but the way Moni is staring at you is captivating. "Dog."

Namjoon freezes, hands disappearing from your skin, and he either doesn't hear or doesn't acknowledge your needy whine at the loss of contact. 

"What, what's wrong? Is that your safeword? What did I do?"

"No, Joon," You can barely hear yourself think over the stream of apologies pouring from his lips, and it isn't until you grip his shoulders and forcibly turn him to look at his dog that he shuts up. 

" Oh ," He whispers. "The dog." He clicks his tongue a couple of times and Moni hops down from the bed, though not without giving Namjoon the saddest eyes possible. Moni disappears down the hallway, probably to go lay on the couch, and Namjoon shuts the door behind him. "Sorry," he says bashfully. 

"Don't be sorry," You respond with a smile. " Do , however, fuck me until I can't move." 

A growl vibrates in his chest, surprising you, and you're bouncing atop his mattress before you can think. 

He doesn't say anything else, too focused on the way your folds feel against his tongue as he slides your robe up your thighs. Words are hardly possible for you when he makes you come the first time. Even less so when he turns you onto your hands and knees, presses your face into the mattress, and proceeds to pound into you so hard that the nightstand shakes. Still, your knees are made weak by something else entirely.

It's the tender awareness in his touch; he's firm and unyielding but so, so cautious, consistently testing your reactions before he continues. The way his voice - deepened and husky with desire - sounds in your ear when he asks if what he's doing is okay, if you like it, if you want to keep going. It's how he teases you gently about how wet you are - "God damn, is this all for me? You're so fucking wet, so slick and ready for me, sweetheart," -  the way he's so absolutely tuned in to your own needs and desires, the way he coaxes orgasm after orgasm out of you like it's second nature, his own high an afterthought when you've clenched too tight around him. 

It's the way he brings you water and some fruit afterward and gently cleans you up while you eat before sliding your robe carefully over the blossoming purple marks he sucked into your shoulders. It's the way he didn't close his bedroom door until yours clicked behind you. 

"This was the best idea I've ever had," you sigh happily to yourself as you drift off to sleep. 

“So you’ve got a sir kink?” Namjoon asks several days later, face pressed into a microscope more expensive than your entire apartment building. He doesn’t look at you, even as you tear your eyes away from the computer screen in front of you to glance at him curiously. 

“I do,” You tell him. He shifts in his chair and you bite back a grin. “Is that a problem? We don’t have to use it.”

“No, it’s fine,” He says quickly. “Just thought it was interesting. I didn’t expect that from you.”

“Namjoon, we’ve only known each other for a couple of months, and in that time, we’ve hardly had a conversation about what kinks we enjoy and what we don’t. How would you expect anything?”

“Just...didn’t expect it, that’s all.” He’s quiet for a minute and a sliver of guilt lodges in your throat. You’re right, the two of you haven’t known each other for very long, especially not in a sexual manner, but you could’ve maybe phrased it better. 

“I’m sorry-”

“We should-”

Both of you stop midsentence, turning away from your work to laugh with each other. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” Namjoon says with a dimpled smile. “I know what you meant, and you’re right. We don’t know what the other enjoys, so we shouldn’t go into this with any expectations.”

“Maybe we should, though,” You say, marking a sequence that catches your eye so you’ll remember to come back and fully examine it later. “I mean, we can’t exactly fulfill our sexual needs without knowing what said needs are. For instance, how often do you orgasm every week?”

Something tumbles on Namjoon’s desk, and when you look over he’s got the microscope cradled carefully in his hands a few feet above the floor. 

“Uh...maybe twice,” He eventually says.

“Hm. Duly noted.” You turn back to the monitor in front of you, marking another sequence for inspection. 

“Well...how often do you orgasm each week?” He asks. His voice is hesitant, like he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to ask.

“Depends,” You tell him. “When I’m close to my period or ovulating, it’s usually once a day, if not twice, because my sex drive is higher, but otherwise it’s usually every other day or so.”

“Oh.” 

“But don’t worry, I’m more than willing to take care of myself on the nights where you need a break. I don’t expect you to keep up with my sex drive.”

“I mean...I could .”

You turn away from the monitor to look at him, quirking a brow. He quirks his own in return and you can’t help the way your eyes travel down his form. He’s wearing contacts instead of his glasses - always does during the workweek, since it’s easier to use a microscope that way - but the light purple shirt sets off the platinum blonde of his hair and his thighs strain against the material of his khakis. It all adds up to make him look absolutely delectable, especially since you know full well what’s hiding underneath those pants. 

“I could,” He repeats. “If you want me to.”

Your eyes meet his and you have no doubt he’s been eyeing you the same way you’ve been eyeing him. 

“I think it might be time for our lunch break, Mr. Kim,” You tell him, eyes darting to the clock on your desk. “I was thinking of going out to get something, would you like to join me?”

Namjoon is already standing and grabbing his jacket, and you would laugh at how eager he is if you weren’t the same way. You can already feel heat beginning to pool between your legs and the two of you rush out of the office in such a hurry that you hardly notice when you run straight into the mail cart. 

“Nice going, Slick!” Kihyun yells after you, and you wish you were ashamed of the way that your knees tremble at the reminder of how it felt to have Namjoon call you that while buried inside of your warmth. 

“They have no idea,” Namjoon mutters, fingers twisting with yours so he can pull you down a hallway and towards an unused office. “If they only knew just how slick you really are.”

You shiver and slam the door closed as Namjoon sinks to his knees. 

The amount of times the two of you fuck at work is utterly ridiculous after that. You have an actual conversation with him about kinks and hard limits and soft limits and all that fun grown-up stuff that’s necessary of an adult relationship, of course, and that only adds to the fire between the two of you. 

He’s more than willing to let you call him Sir while you’re on your hands and knees in front of him, and you’re absolutely willing to ride him into oblivion in those moments when he doesn’t want to be in charge or when he’s had a hard day at work and just wants to relax. Those are your favorite times, actually; when he just sits on the couch and drives himself up into you while you’re fucking yourself back down onto him, eyes clenched shut as his hands glide up your spine and knead your ass. 

The slow, lazy way his hips meet yours is absolutely addictive, you can’t even lie, but you can’t deny that it’s the moment after you’ve both cum that are the real danger. When you’re both panting and spent, laying against the soft sheets on his bed or the cool leather of your couch, and his arm drapes around your torso for those few moments it takes him to regain his breath. 

It’s dangerous, so dangerous, because you’ve already agreed not to have feelings involved in this. You’re friends with benefits, nothing more and nothing less, and you cannot let yourself forget that. Not in the mornings when you wander out in his shirt to find that he’s made breakfast - ordered it, actually, but it’s the thought that counts - or when you walk into work together and he doesn’t hesitate to open the doors for you without even breaking stride, as if it’s second nature to do so. As if he’s used to it. 

It’s when the two of you are at the mall together that reality hits you in the face. 

You’re both on the hunt for different things; he’s got a birthday present he still has to buy and wants to pick up some new treats and sweaters for Moni, while you’re on the hunt for a new toaster to rival that of your old one - which you destroyed on accident by using a metal fork to dig a piece of bread out of. While it was plugged in. And hot. 

Your hands still sting a little, but the ER nurse was adamant that you would be alright. So long as you didn’t try to electrocute yourself again.

“Wait, so you’re not going to be here for New Year’s Eve?” You clarify, popping a piece of chocolate into your mouth. 

“No, I’m heading up to Taehyung’s cabin with the rest of the guys. It’s an annual thing, I don’t even remember how it got started,” Namjoon tells you as he peers into the window of some box store that you already know isn’t going to have anything Taehyung will like. 

“Hm, I guess it’s good I work then, so I can walk Moni.” 

Namjoon shoots you an odd look. “You don’t work, and Jackson’s watching Moni.”

“Uh...I’m pretty sure I work on New Year’s Eve, Namjoon. I would’ve made plans otherwise.”

“Slick, I’m exactly one hundred percent sure the office is closed for New Year’s because it is every year.” He sneaks a piece of chocolate and wrinkles his nose when he realizes it’s mint chocolate. 

“No, because my schedule says-” You start, pulling your phone out to open said schedule so you can show him just how wrong he is. “That I work the next morning. That’s why I didn’t make plans.”

Namjoon just smiles and taps at the screen. “That’s December, Slick. You’re looking at December first.”

You pull the phone back and stare at it, horror washing over you when you see that he’s right. 

You’re going to be spending New Year’s alone, for the first time in years, and loneliness fills you at that thought. Your parents are an entire plane ride away, on vacation for their retirement in some tropical paradise that you can’t remember the name of; your old friends are in an entirely different city, likely already with plans of their own, and you don’t know nearly enough people at work or outside of it to have any idea what people are doing. 

“Oh man,” Namjoon breathes, clearly oblivious to the sudden onset of loneliness that’s hit you. “I knew it was going to be hilarious, but I had no idea it was going to be this good .”

You look up to find him focused on his phone, camera pointing at something you can’t quite make out through the small screen. You follow the view, a reluctant smile breaking out when you spot Hope on the Street dancing along to some holiday song while dressed as an elf. 

“Isn’t that the news anchor that got in trouble for doing anal?” You ask. Namjoon cackles - there’s no other word for it, it’s a cackle - and nods. 

“Yeah, Hoseok’s been forced into doing this as a publicity stunt. We’ve all been looking forward to seeing him do it, too, but god , I had no idea it would be this funny to see. Hobi as a Christmas elf, can you imagine?”

“Hobi?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s a close friend of mine,” Namjoon says, eyes never straying from the video as he plays it back. “He’s gonna be at the cabin too, with his girlfriend Cat. There’s like seven of us who all grew up in the same little neighborhood, and we all kept pretty close as we got older. It’s like a little mini-family.”

“Oh,” You say softly. Namjoon tucks his phone back into his pocket and looks around, lighting up as he spots something else. “I didn’t know you knew Hope on the Street.”

“Yeah, he’s a dork,” Namjoon says as he pulls you towards some children’s store. “Come on, I think Yoongi’s working and I like to watch his little dance when he makes the hearts.”

You barely pay attention as Namjoon hurries into the toy store. You don’t join him inside, too busy lost in your own thoughts. 

You should’ve realized, you scold yourself. You should’ve known better. You got comfortable, you got complacent and happy, too enamored with the way Namjoon feels inside of you and the warmth of his hand in yours to realize that you’re still on the outside. 

He and his friends are all going up to some cabin, with their girlfriends apparently, to hang out and have fun together for New Year’s. He didn’t invite you. You’ve lost yourself in the fantasy and complacency of how warm he feels, how it feels like coming home whenever you see him, even when you knew better. 

You knew better than to get attached. You told yourself, every step of the way, not to get attached, don’t develop feelings, it’s just sex, and yet…

And yet your heart is breaking in your chest that he didn’t invite you along, that he didn’t even think to do so. It’s not even fair to him, it’s not his fault that you got too caught up in the domesticity and familiarity of him to remember that this isn’t serious. Why would he invite you? You’re his roommate, a coworker, the girl he fucks every so often. You aren’t his girlfriend, you aren’t anyone important to his friends. 

You’re just the roommate. 

“Hey, look at this bear I made, it’s got a little microscope and everything! It’s perfect for-”

“Sorry,” You interrupt, ignoring the way Namjoon’s smile dims ever so slightly. “I just realized that I’ve got to finish up some analyses before the office closes for the holiday, I’ve gotta go do that. But it’s cute, Moni’ll love it.”

“Okay.” Namjoon’s voice is hushed, and his brows are drawn together. He can obviously tell something’s off, but if you’re lucky, maybe he won’t be able to pinpoint exactly what. “I’ll see you at home then.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you back at the apartment,” You say quickly, not even looking at him as you hurry off the other way. 

You just need space, you tell yourself. You just need some distance so you can get your emotions under control. You can’t be around him when all you want to do is kiss him senseless and tell him how much you want to wake up in his bed forever, how you never want to miss another walk with Moni. He can’t know. 

He won’t know.

"I fucked up."

"You're going to have to be more specific," Jimin’s voice says from the other end of the phone. 

Namjoon groans, resisting the urge to slam his head back against the cabinets. He's standing in the kitchen now, staring longingly at the fridge and whatever food it may contain, because you’re out grocery shopping now, and he would love for you to come back to a hot meal, but there’s a reason you’re grocery shopping this late at night.

"You remember how in college everyone teased me because I'm terrible at one-night stands and I bet Hobi a week's groceries that I totally could?"

"Yes," Jimin says slowly. Something clinks on the other end of the line, and Namjoon wonders what Jimin’s having for dinner. His stomach rumbles in response and he heaves himself across the kitchen to dig through the fridge while Jimin continues. "I also remember how you spent weeks pining over said one-night stand while Hoseok filled the cupboards with every single thing he thought he could get away with buying. Why are you bringing that up now?"

Namjoom stays quiet but hums in victory as he unearths a pizza that isn’t too terribly old. “How long can pizza live in the fridge before it would kill me if I ate it?”

“If you have to ask that question, it’s been too long,” Jimin tells him. Namjoon debates, eyeing the pizza before deciding it looks fine and turning the oven on before sliding the pizza in. “Now, why are you bringing up one night stands and then pizza?”

"You remember how that new girl started at work a few months ago and we ate lunch together and then nearly got fired?"

"Yes, I distinctly remember writing you notes on takeout containers for weeks reminding you not to put foil in the microwave. What does-" Jimin stops, and Namjoon gets the distinct impression that if they were having this conversation in person, he’d be getting the Look. "Joon, tell me you didn't."

"I didn't have a one night stand with her," Namjoon assures him. 

"Good," Jimin says, heaving a sigh of relief. "God only knows what would happen with a one night stand with your roommate-"

"We're friends with benefits." 

Jimin chokes on whatever he’s eating and Namjoon winces sympathetically. 

"It's not that bad," The elder says before Jimin can scold him. "We're very sexually compatible. And she's amazing, Jimin, you don't even know-"

"Joon, isn't this the same girl you spent an entire four hours talking about the day she started working with you?"

"Yeah, so?"

The blonde gives a heavy sigh. Namjoon knows the younger well enough to know he’s shaking his head right now. 

"Please be careful, Namjoon," Jimin eventually says. 

"Oh, don't worry, we've both been tested, and we use condoms every time, there's nothing to worry about."

"That's not the kind of careful I mean," Jimin sighs. He's quiet for a minute as he eats and Namjoon waits for his pizza to be heated enough to eat. "Why do you say you fucked up if you’ve been careful?”

“I…” He hesitates. “I don’t know. I think she’s upset with me. We were at the mall the other day and it was fine, we were laughing at how Hobi looks dressed as an elf-”

“God that video was hilarious -”

“Right?!” They both laugh a little, fondly remembering the sight, before Namjoon sobers. “And then she just...changed. She got all quiet and skittish and ran off before I could give her the bear I made. She didn’t even look at it.”

“And it just happened out of nowhere? What were you talking about?”

“How she’s off work for New Year’s and I’m heading up to the cabin so she doesn’t have to watch Moni or anything, and then I saw Yoongi doing that dance at the store so I wanted to go watch him, and-” He stops, eyes focused on the air in front of him. 

“Joon? You good?”

“Hypothetically speaking,” He begins, a realization hitting him all at once, “What would happen if I put a pizza in the oven to reheat without taking it out of the box?”

“Oh my fucking god, Namjoon, get it out!”

There’s a flurry of smoke while Namjoon does just that and rushes to open the window so he can let some of the smoke out before you get back home. Jimin’s still berating him - albeit fondly - when he picks the phone back up. 

“It’s fine,” Namjoon says quickly, “It’s cool, nothing’s actually on fire anymore. And the pizza’s warm!”

“Oh my god, how have you survived this long.” Namjoon smiles at Jimin’s words; he gets a lot of shit for being wildly unobservant, but he knows that the others love him dearly. Why else would they still talk to him? Really, after the incident with the tub at Jungkook’s apartment, it’s truly a miracle he still has friends, and love is the only explanation. 

“But seriously, I don’t know what I did with Slick. Do you think I was too...obvious?”

“Namjoon,” Jimin says seriously. “If this girl is anything like you, and based on that time she tried to screenshot a crack in phone screen I’m inclined to believe she is, then I think the issue is that you aren’t being obvious enough . You said she got all weird after you mentioned the cabin, right?”

“Yeah. I thought she’d be happy that she wouldn’t be stuck with Moni, but-”

“Did you consider that since she thought she was working, she doesn’t have any other plans and is now stuck in the apartment by herself since she just moved here recently?”

“Oh.” Guilt surges through him as the door opens and your voice echoes that you picked up some takeout while you were gone. “I gotta go.”

“Ah-ah,” Jimin says quickly. “My payment?”

“Yes, Jimin, I love you dearly, you are the light of my life, I would never have survived this long were it not for your sage wisdom, I owe you my firstborn.”

“Much better! Some of the others could learn from you.” Jimin’s laugh continues long after he’s hung up, Namjoon is sure of it. 

You aren’t sure why the apartment smells like smoke when you get back, but you decide not to question it and just be grateful you had the foresight to pick up some takeout on your way back from the store. 

 When you get into the kitchen, Namjoon is there, with a smoking pizza box on the stove beside him. He’s not in his work clothes; instead, he looks comfortable and cozy in some sweats and a faded tee with his glasses halfway down his nose. Your heart lurches painfully in your chest at the sight and you force yourself to remember that he isn’t yours . 

“Hey! Did you hear me? I got takeout, since I figured neither of us wanted to cook. And I’m glad I did, what’s with the smoke?” A thought strikes you as you set the bags on the table. “Oh no, did you try to use the toaster? I told you not to, it got weird after that night with the fork, we need to replace it.”

“Do you wanna go to the cabin?” 

You freeze, halfway to the fridge to put away the ice cream that he likes. “What?” You ask. 

“The cabin. Do you want to go with me for New Year’s Eve, with everyone?” Namjoon takes the ice cream and finishes your journey for you, sticking it in the freezer without a second thought. “If you don’t want to take advantage of a quiet apartment, that is. You’re welcome to join, and I figured that was obvious, but then I realized that it may not be, so I wanted to offer.”

“With you and all of your friends? I don’t really... know any of them.” 

“That’s fine, they’re not that bad. They’re all pretty friendly, once you get to know them at least.” Namjoon says as he takes some vegetables out of your hands to put them in the fridge as well. “And I have no doubt that the others are going to bring some of their friends. Yoongi’s girlfriend will be there, she seems sweet. And Cat and Star are always nice, you’d love them.” 

You hesitate, though you aren’t sure why. This is what you wanted, so why doesn’t it make you happy?

“Besides, they’ll all be happy to have another friend around to bother. Jin loves to feed people.” Namjoon flashes his dimples at you and your heart does something complex that you can’t explain. There’s the rush of excitement and the skipped beat that always comes with his dimples, but it twists and clenches as well. Because of course, he’s just taking you as a friend. 

You’re friends. And that’s fine. If you repeat yourself enough times then you’ll believe it. You have to. 

“Yeah, sure!” You say with a grin. “I’d like that. They always sound so fun, it’ll be nice to meet them for real.”

Namjoon beams and helps you put the rest of the groceries away before you both settle in to eat. It’s not anything fancy, simple and quick and just enough to get the two of you through the night so that you didn’t have to cook. You chat about work as you do, a few sequences that might prove promising if you can work them the right way. 

It’s afterward, as you’re both curled up on opposite sides of the couch while some nature documentary plays in the background, that you notice it. 

He’s been fidgety all night, even before you left to get the food, and you didn’t think anything of it before. But now he’s even worse, hands rubbing along his thighs nervously while he shoots you look after look, which you have no doubt he thinks you don’t notice. 

“What is up with you?” You ask him eventually, ignoring the way some bug is eating another bug’s head onscreen. 

“Nothing,” he says in a rush. “Just...ready for bed.”

“Then go to bed.” You say it like it’s obvious, because it is. If he’s so ready to sleep, then he should go; neither of you has ever expected the other to stay up and watch TV together. You’re individuals.

“Okay,” he says softly, adjusting his glasses as he stands. He gets all the way to his bedroom door before he comes back, hovering awkwardly in the hall entrance for several seconds before he finally sits back down on the couch. Now, however, he’s sitting with his thigh pressed against yours, the heat radiating through the shorts you’re wearing and searing into your skin. 

He’s still fidgety, still uneasy for some reason, and it’s as you turn to ask him what the hell’s going on that he pulls you into a kiss. It’s soft and lingering and it makes your stomach flip in all the ways it isn’t supposed to. 

“If you wanted to have sex, you should have just said so,” You whisper against his lips. You can feel it more than hear it as he starts to say something and then cuts himself off with a sigh. 

“I wanna be inside you,” he says instead. “Please.”

Heat pools between your legs, even at such simple words, and you find yourself nodding. He kisses you again, frantic and much more heated than before, and you can already tell what it’ll be like tonight. 

You’re right, too; it’s quick and dirty. You don’t even make it to the bed, not at first. He cages you against the wall in the hallway and slides a hand between your bodies to start to draw your first orgasm out. It’s the whine from the dog that makes you realize where you are, pulling apart long enough to stare at where Moni sits at the hallway entrance, head cocked to the side and watching you with a confused stare. 

That gets you into the bedroom, the door shut behind you as you fall together onto the bed. The two of you barely get your clothes off before Namjoon’s sliding inside of you and groaning at the feeling. 

“Fuck, Slick, you’re so wet,” he whispers against your skin as he thrusts. You can hardly make words, too focused on the way he fits inside of you and the absolute certainty that you cannot say a single word running through your head. 

Not that you’re in love with the way he holds your hips so gently as he thrusts, not how he whispers praise and adoration against you with every press of his lips to your skin, and certainly not how you want to stay like this forever. That you’re absolutely positive you’ve broken the cardinal rules of being fuckbuddies. 

Don’t get feelings. 

But you were a fool, anyway. Because it’s easy to break rules, especially when you go into it with feelings. 

The first orgasm hits you with a shockwave, and with the way Namjoon hits your g-spot, it’s followed by a second shortly after. Your hands claw into the sheets as he fills the condom, and it only takes a minute for him to clean himself up enough to relax in the bed beside you, but you hardly notice; you’re too busy adjusting to the emptiness that you’re left with now that he isn’t inside you, the yearning that fills you down to your bones with the need to be wrapped up in his arms and cradled to his chest as you both drift to sleep.

You force yourself up before you can get comfortable, fatigue sweeping through your bones. 

“I’m, uh, I’m gonna go shower,” You tell him. It’s a feat to keep your voice neutral, but you think you manage. “And then head to bed, I think. Uh, thanks. For the orgasms.”

The door to the bathroom closes behind you before he can even get a word out, and you force the image of his confused face out of your mind as you turn the water on. It takes every part of you to resist the urge to linger in the hot spray for longer than you need to be there, but you manage. 

By the time you’re slipping into bed, the light in Namjoon’s room is off and you can hear Moni settling into bed beside Namjoon. You can practically see them, curled up together all warm and settled in together. Content. 

You slip between your own sheets and wrap the fluffy blanket around you. Emotions are swirling in your gut and you do your best to ignore them all. You don’t need to focus on the way you want to be there with them, the way you want to curl your body into his with Moni between you, just the way he likes on the couch. 

“This is the worst idea I’ve ever had,” You tell yourself with a sigh as you try to fall asleep in your lonely bed. 

You don’t know that across the hall, Namjoon lays awake with Moni beside him, wondering how he fucked up so badly that you’re not in his arms anymore. He’d have every intention to tell you about his feelings. He wanted to end this friends-with-benefits thing, put it to rest so that he could take you out for real. So you could be together , for real. 

But you’d just bolted the second he was collapsing onto the bed, like you were running from something, and he wasn’t about to keep you here when you don’t want to be here. 

Still, he thinks as Moni burrows under the blankets to get closer to him, he can’t help but wish you were up against him as well, with your breathing steady and quiet as you sleep and he can feel your chest move with it. 

He just really wishes that you wanted that too.

The drive to the cabin is uneventful. You and Namjoon talk about work most of the way, chatting amicably about a few things that got corrupted in the data that have been frustrating to rebuild and how excited Moni was to see Jackson when he picked the pup up that day. 

You’re only a little nervous when you spot the wooden sign specifying that it belongs to the Kims. You’ve heard a lot of stories about Namjoon’s friends, seen one or two in passing when they come by the apartment to see Namjoon, though you tend to give them space when that happens. 

Still, nothing could ever compare to the welcome that greets you. There’s some kind of karaoke going on, with Taehyung and Star watching from the couch. There are crutches propped up nearby and you wonder what the story is there for the few seconds before your attention is drawn to the kitchen, where who you assume is Seokjin is scolding someone for shoving entirely too many cookies into their mouth. You catch sight of someone - blonde, giggling, followed by a sweet-looking girl - run out of the kitchen with his cheeks puffed out and crumbs on his lips, and you shoot Namjoon a look. 

“Jimin,” He explains with a grin. “C’mon, let’s go claim the den before someone else can get to it.”

That night is hectic, to say the least. Namjoon was right when he said his friends are welcoming, though; everyone is friendly and talkative - except for Pumpkin, Seokjin’s best friend who genuinely looks like she’s about to murder someone for the few moments that you see her during dinner but Namjoon assures you “That’s just her face, I promise.” Even when the boys get to reminiscing about the days they spent in that cul-de-sac, they include everyone else in their stories. 

Especially fun is when they all come up with theories about why Cat and Hobi are late, and while from what you’ve heard so far tonight, you agree with the proposal that they’re probably fucking, you still feel a sliver of worry for them. 

It’s the mention of sex that gets your stomach churning, though. Because Namjoon shoots you a knowing look, the same one he gets when you wear those ultra-short shorts around the house that he adores, and you already know what he wants. You can’t even say you don’t want it, too, because you don’t think you could ever turn down the opportunity to have him like that. It’s just so bittersweet when it ends-

“I’m going to start on dessert,” Seokjin states as he gathers plates. Yoongi and Peaches are gone in record time, and Taehyung and Star follow not long after, though it takes considerably longer with the way Taehyung helps her. Seokjin calls after them all that he’ll have dessert ready in a little while, and Namjoon shoots you another look when Jimin and Pumpkin don’t move from the table. 

“C’mon,” Namjoon whispers, grabbing your hand and urging you down the hallway. “Get our bags, we’re gonna steal Jin’s room.”

“That doesn’t seem like the best idea,” You whisper in return, though you do in fact grab the bags as he directs. “Isn’t that also Pumpkin’s room? Are we sure she won’t murder us?”

“No, it’ll be fine, Jin would never let her.” The thought isn’t as comforting as Namjoon means it to be, but you manage to get your bags in the room and their bags out without anyone the wiser. 

You realize your mistake too late. This room only has one bed. A singular sleeping area. The den has couches, you would have been fine, but you can’t sleep here. You can’t share the bed with Namjoon; it’s entirely too dangerous. Getting to see him still completely sleep soft, warm against you as the two of you doze in the early morning light? 

There would be no coming back from that. 

The thought leaves nearly as quick as it enters, driven away by the slide of Namjoon’s arms as he wraps them around you. 

"Do you want it, Slick?" His voice is deep and rumbling, almost a purr in your ear, and it makes your knees weak. It's truly ridiculous how easy it is for him to rile you up, but fuck , can you really complain?

Except you can, because it's not what you want. It's not everything you want. You can't ask for more, though, not when he doesn't want to give it.

His hands snake towards the waistband of your pants - fancy grey pinstriped pants that you bought specifically because Namjoon told you that Seokjin has a fancy dress code for New Year's Eve - and your heart jumps up into your throat. You spin in his arms, doing your best to look enthusiastic. 

"I want to blow you," You tell him as you sink to your knees. He leans back against the wall and quirks a brow, but he nods his agreement.

You set to work almost immediately; you're determined to make this the best blowjob of his life. It's the least you can do. You don't tell him that, though; you can't tell him. Not this. Not that you're so deeply entrenched in your feelings for him that you're afraid if you don't get out now you won't be able to. Not that you can't bear to have him touch you because you're afraid of what will come out of your mouth, what you might say or reveal that he doesn't want to know. 

Not when you're going to have to end this, as you decided while laying in bed two nights ago, cold and exhausted and utterly alone. 

You focus again on Namjoon, reminding yourself to pay attention. His dick is big - big enough that your fingers can only barely meet when you wrap them around it, but it means your jaw aches deliciously when you go down on him, and you adore the feeling of it in your throat.

So you swallow him down completely, burying him to the hilt with one swift movement. You've been practicing, and it has clearly paid off if the choked moan that escapes him is any indication. His hands tangle in your hair, not pulling or pushing but instead just sitting there and moving with you as you pull off just to bury him again. 

You look up and are pleased to find that his eyes are screwed shut, jaw clenched tight against the moans building inside of his chest. But that won't do at all. The best blowjob of his life can't possibly be one where he doesn't even look at you.

To rectify the situation, you bring one hand up to tease at his balls, squeezing ever so slightly in the way you know he likes as you swallow around his cock. He does moan then, fingers clenching in your hair as he opens his eyes to look down at you. 

"Fuck, just like that, Slick," He pleads. "Again, please again, it's perfect." You comply, humming an affirmative around his dick that makes him shudder before you swallow around him again. "God, fuck , you're so fucking perfect. Fucking amazing, the best, I can't believe I get to have this-"

Namjoon continues, mumbling in and out of coherency as you bop your head up and down on his cock. He's thick and heavy in your mouth and it feels like heaven on your tongue - it always does - and just when you think you can never get enough-

"Fuck, I love you so much, Slick, you're a god damn angel."

You pull off his dick, staring wide-eyed at him. Namjoon whines and looks down at you, clearly not comprehending what's just come out of his mouth.

"Fuck," He mutters. "Fuck, shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...I don't...I'm so sorry I didn't want you to know, especially not like this. Shit. "

"Are you serious?" You ask as you stand back up. Namjoon makes a belated movement to help steady you, blood flowing back into your calves from where you were kneeled down for a while, but he stops himself. He doesn't even look at you, really, instead staring out the window nearby. "Namjoon, seriously. Did you mean that?"

"I mean…" He hesitates, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "Yeah. I did. I do. It's still new so I can't be entirely sure, but I think that's what this is." 

He heaves a sigh and tucks himself back into his slacks before moving to sit on the bed, one hand running through his platinum hair. 

"You weren't supposed to know," He mutters. "I thought I could keep it a secret. I didn't want to make it weird between us since you don't…" 

"Since I don't...feel the same?" You ask as you sit beside him. "You really...care about me like that?"

"Yeah," Namjoon whispers with a grin. It's fond and sweet and everything you've ever wanted and it's so unbearably familiar because it's how he's always looked at you. "Ever since we almost burned the lab down, I think."

"Same," You breathe, and you can't deny the way that you love the light that sparks in his eyes at that. "Ever since you ate the vegetables out of my rice and gave me your eggrolls." 

"Are you-"

"Yeah," You say with a laugh. "I guess we're kind of both at fault for this, then."

"Can I…" Namjoon trails off, searching for the words he wants. His hands move to wrap around yours, lacing your fingers together as he gives you a smitten smile. "We've been fucking for a while. As you know. But would you do me the honor of letting me make love to you?" 

You gulp, an audible and atrocious thing, because his words send a surge of desire straight to your core. He's right, you have been fucking, because that's the only thing the two of you can call it. You don't make eye contact, you don't sleep over, there are rules , but god, the two of you break everything else, so why not this?

"Please," You whisper.  

His lips are on yours in an instant, his hands following quickly after to strip your clothes off. You can't be sure when his clothes join the pile on the floor, just that one moment your fists are clenched in his shirt and the next, you're raking your nails down his bare back as he sucks purple marks into your neck. 

"God, you're beautiful," He mutters. "Fucking divine." 

"Then I match you, don't I?" You whisper. Two of his fingers slide into you, and both of you moan at the feeling. He glides them against your walls, teasing that one spot inside of you that he knows you adore, and you whine a little.

"Patience, my dear," He chuckles. When you whine again he grins, dimples making your stomach flip. "Alright then, Slick. Let me get a condom."

"No," You say quickly. "We've been exclusive, right? No risk or anything like that. I've got the implant. 98% effective. I want…"

"Say it, love," Namjoon breathes, eyes never leaving yours. 

"I want to feel you. Please." He nods at your words and settles between your thighs once more. Your breath hitches in your throat at the thought of what's to come. 

"Tell me if you want to stop," he says as he presses kisses to your neck, up your throat, and across your cheeks. He does it all to distract you as he slides inside, but he doesn't need to. You've been fucking him for months now, you know exactly how big he is, and you're more than ready for it. 

What you aren't ready for is the way his skin feels against your walls, how you can feel every pulse and throb of his cock inside you. It's better than anything you've ever felt, beyond any descriptors you could find, and it only gets better as he slides out and then back in. 

His pace is slow but steady, a rhythmic glide to it that's making you obscenely wet. It's a stark contrast to the gentle way he kisses you, the softness of his lips against yours. The sound of his skin hitting yours fills the room as he breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. 

"You are the best thing that's ever happened to me," You tell him, sliding your hands along every inch of skin you can get. 

Nothing is loud enough to mask the sound of the door opening, however, and when you glance over you can see that Hoseok and Cat have apparently finished whatever the fuck it was they were doing. 

You shy back, doing your best to cover yourself from their eyes, but Namjoon's pace doesn't falter. 

" Taken ," He growls. He doesn't even break eye contact as he does so, and the way his hand tightens on your hip makes you think he isn't just talking about the bedroom. 

Thankfully the couple disappears after that, closing the door behind them as they go, and it flips a switch inside Namjoon somehow. 

His pace speeds up, pistoning in and out of you mercilessly. He starts to angle his hips, searching until you finally cry out with your back arching up off the bed itself. He just smiles and continues to hit that spot, one hand moving to support your back while the other rubs teasing circles into your clit. 

"That's it, love," he purrs. "Wanna watch you come for me like this. Let yourself fall apart on my cock, Slick, I'll be right here. I've got you." 

You really wish you could figure out what exactly it is he does then; some kind of swivel of his hips while his fingers do some complicated twist or something, you have no doubt, but nevertheless, it's got you unraveling underneath him. You clench around him, harder than you ever have, and you can feel the sheets soaking underneath you from the strength of your orgasm. 

It takes barely two more thrusts for Namjoon to come as well, stilling slightly as his cum hits your walls for the first time. It's warm and you can feel it settling inside of you, but you can't say you don't enjoy it. 

You're both panting, out of breath and exhausted and having worked all the food Seokjin made out of your system. Namjoon disappears for a few seconds before returning with a warm cloth to clean you up; his hands are tender as he does so, and you find yourself falling even deeper. 

After a quick power nap and an even quicker quickie - because Namjoon insisted that it wasn't fair that you got to go down on him but he didn't get to go down on you - the two of you mingle with the others. Hoseok and Cat fit seamlessly into the group, filling a space you hadn't realized was missing during dinner. It's obvious to you, as you lean against the kitchen island and watch them all, just how much this group loves each other. Even the newcomers, like the new girlfriends, are absorbed so perfectly into the existing group that it's as if they never left.

Hell, even Pumpkin is smiling a little, although you can't be sure it's not just because Seokjin looks Like That. 

"Ooh, icing," Namjoon says as he comes to join you in the kitchen. Seokjin barely gets a chance to say anything as Namjoon drags his thumb across the white droplet and sucks it into his mouth. 

The baker looks horrified, and you wish you knew why. Namjoon agrees, based on the look on his face. 

"What?" Namjoon asks. "It was good." Seokjin's face is as pale as it can possibly get when he waves Namjoon away, and you have a sneaking suspicion of just what your boyfriend put in his mouth. 

You don't bother to hide your smile as said boyfriend comes over to you and hands you a glass of champagne.

"What are you so happy about?" He asks teasingly.

"You," You tell him honestly. It's worth it when he ducks his head, shy smile making his dimples stand out even as he tries to hide it. "I adore you."

Namjoon doesn't respond, just kisses you. He breaks away for a few minutes, saying something to someone else, and when the clock strikes midnight, he presses another gentle kiss to your lips.

"What are you wishing for?" He asks. 

"Midnight wishes? Really?" You tease. He cocks a brow and you smile. "I don't need to wish for anything. I got everything I wanted this year." 

"Really? Everything?" 

You nod, straightening his tie ever so slightly. "And what about you? What are you wishing for?"

"Oh, that's easy." He wraps an arm around you and grins. "For you to finally accept the bear I made you that day in the mall."

"Moni loves that thing, I couldn't possibly take it from him."

"But it's got a microscope! And a lab coat!"

Well then," You tell him, dropping your voice so the others won't hear. "I suppose you'll have to make me another." 

He glances over to where Yoongi and Peaches stand and then back to you. 

"Covert mission to also get another for Jisoo?"

"Glad we're on the same page here," You tell him with a smile.

[4328fox]

Sweatshirt-Related Blues

summary: Alternatively, Yuri thinks about the routine that's setting in his life when it comes to dating Flynn.

notes: This was a drabble I did a month ago trying to work through my handful of writing ideas. I wasn't initially going to post it, especially not the second chapter, but I still feel relatively proud of both, so here they are. I mostly wanted to poke at Yuri (modern au setting) about thoughts he would likely deny of every having passed through his mind.

2k words. link to AO3

both chapters are also on the read more below!

SIDE A

Another calm afternoon goes by. Yuri continues typing on his computer as he strings his thoughts along, thoughts among the lines of I don’t get why you just don’t note these stuff down, while some from Brave Vesperia lament their loss in some scavenger-hunting video game. Yuri played a bit of it himself, but took to just watching Karol, Rita, Estelle and Patty mess around. He chuckles when he reads Rita’s clearly annoyed reply, and types up a quick one of his own. And then Estelle asks, isn’t it five in the afternoon now? Yuri sneaks a quick glance at the time on the monitor.

“Shit. I’m gonna be late.”

Yuri almost jumps out of the chair to get ready, but as he gets up, he decides to shoot a quick goodbye to his friends. Have fun lol, is how he finishes up the message, before he rushes back to his bed, where Repede has been resting.

“Come on, buddy, we can’t keep Flynn waiting.” Though Yuri very well recognizes that the fault will fall on him more than on his sleeping companion. He discards the sleep wear he put back on after running some morning errands, and grabs the clothes he dropped over the bed. Some bermuda shorts and a sweatshirt that is too light for the drizzling weather. At the very least, he feels good wearing those, so why pick a new outfit? Flynn’s definitely going to comment that I’d get cold. As if that really bothered Yuri to begin with.

He does a quick pat over his pocket, for his wallet. There. And he slides his phone comfortably into the other one. Repede just then has awoken fully, attentive to Yuri’s haste.

“Okay, let’s go.” He tries to comb a hand through his hair, but he instantly gets stuck on a painful knot. Yuri hisses a bit. “Or maybe in a minute.”

After a quick brushing session, Yuri slid his sneakers on and left the apartment, with Repede in tow. That’s when he gets a text. He opens it up, and as suspected, it’s from Flynn. Asking him if Yuri’s late again. That’s all routine.

The time they have together ends up amazing. To think they could make a competition out of bowling. As a result, Flynn paid for both their meals at the local restaurant. They spent longer than expected just chatting and eating, cooling down from earlier. They’d been sitting across one another on the table, exchanging the occasional grins between one another. And Yuri continuously stole glances from Flynn as they talked to one another, without being self-conscious of it like he used to be. That’s one perk in finally getting together. Their feelings are laid out on the table, there is no need to dance around excuses.

Flynn checks the wristwatch on his free hand, and Yuri just then realises he was entirely too focused on the hand itself. Their eyes meet.

“Yuri, it’s getting a bit late. Should we go?”

Yuri sips the remainder of his milkshake as he thinks. “Yeah. We can. I don’t have anything to be up in the morning for, though.”

“I have something from 10 in the morning.”

They both stand up, ready to head out. Yuri reaches for Flynn’s hand, taking it tentatively. It’s warm and slightly rough to the touch, but Yuri knows it’s as rough as his own. Flynn squeezes his hand and looks at Yuri to smile.

“I take it that you enjoyed tonight?”

“Hell yeah,” Yuri replies, “I beat you at bowling, I got free food. I think I got it pretty well.”

“I see that our date was just another contest to you.”

“Not my fault you lost.”

They continue bickering all the way to Yuri’s apartment. Flynn goes up the elevator with him, all the way to the entrance to Yuri’s apartment. This is routine, as dates with Flynn have been. Usually the outings would come and go, and one would escort the other and go home. They would hold hands. They kissed a few times.

“I’ll text you later.” Flynn says, quieter than his usual. He sounds so soft, it makes Yuri think that the sudden pounding in his heart is louder.

But he tries to keep it cool. “What, you don’t want to sleepover? Like the usual?”

“I didn’t bring any spare clothes with me. Or cleaning utilities. And I have classes.” Flynn laughs sheepishly. He takes both of Yuri’s hands in his own, but only for a brief moment.

“Aren’t the ones you’re taking in particular online? You just login in from my desktop and you’d be set.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, though I do hold to my lack of spare clothes.”

“Fine, fine.” Yuri rolls his eyes as they continue smiling. Yuri feels like they’re both the dazed fools from some picture-perfect storybook.

And then they look at each other. Yuri watches how Flynn suddenly grows nervous, swallowing a bit. It makes Yuri want to be just a bit selfish… To place one kiss on Flynn’s neck, where he knows it would tickle, to feel Flynn chuckle because Yuri for a fact knows that neither of them are very well-versed in being openly affectionate at all.

He leans in, hand lifting to cup Flynn’s face. The gentle press of their lips reminds Yuri of the static he would feel back when he dreamt of kissing Flynn, back when he was clueless of how bad he got it. And just like in his dreams, the kiss lasts for seconds, before one or both of them inevitably pull away. Yuri feels Flynn’s hand over his own.

But what if this were different from the dreams? What if Yuri pressed their lips again, chasing the feeling of Flynn being close? They’ve only ever had these short and sweet kisses, the types to make any hopeless romantic jealous. Yuri never thought he would be here like this, but there is always an exception when it comes to Flynn.

Both his hands are now on Flynn’s face, stroking his cheeks with thumbs. The kiss is slow, yet it quickly renders them breathless. They bump noses, they don’t really know where to put their hands, it’s not a smooth sail. But it was never meant to be elegant to begin with, given they’re in some old apartment complex corridor. Yuri feels Flynn kiss with the same amount of reluctance out of inexperience, but the very fact he’s wrapping his arms around Yuri’s back makes Yuri’s heart swell.

They part, but they’re still holding one another. Yuri, expecting to see the same face and the same blue eyes he loves, finds that it’s Flynn who's buried his face in Yuri’s neck. It makes Yuri feel adrenaline rush instantly, his cheeks feeling fuzzy and pulling at the corners of his mouth. It takes another second or two for him to realise that his boyfriend isn’t trying to kiss his neck, like he expected, but is instead just hiding his face.

Yuri finds it incredibly endearing. He should have expected this. He hugs back, not as tightly, but his hands rub Flynn’s back. “It’s gonna get cold for real if you stay out here any longer.”

Muffled through Yuri’s sweatshirt, Flynn says: “Your fault if I go out and get a cold.”

“You’re the one wearing a polo like you’re a divorced dad.” He slowly breaks off the hug, because he still wants to give Flynn a quick look over. Not entirely because their kiss just now woke thoughts in Yuri that he is desperately trying to keep dormant.

“Now it’s “divorced dad”? I would appreciate it if you stuck with one name when it came to my fashion sense.”

“It’s all atrocious is what it is.” Yuri grins, crossing his arms as soon as Flynn steps out of hugging range.

“And yet you still date me.”

“You’re lucky I like you, yeah. Now go home, if you cherish your special shower gel more than video game night.”

“I wouldn’t want to wound your pride after the amount of gloating you did over bowling.” Flynn chuckles at the thought, before his smile settles to something softer. “Goodnight, Yuri.”

It takes Yuri a beat to remember he’s supposed to go inside his apartment. “Yeah. Night.”

He fishes out the keys from his shorts’ pockets and unlocks his door in a swift move. After a quick wave from them both, Flynn turns his back to leave, while Yuri (and Repede, who was waiting diligently), are within the comfort of their home. Yuri sighs, a bit breathless, as he drops his keys and wallet to the side.

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

SIDE B

Yuri daydreams more, as of late. When he and Flynn spend time together, the urge to be closer lingers on his mind. How much closer can he get to Flynn anyway? They go on dates somewhat regularly, they chat, they hang out with their friends. There’s sleepovers where they play video games to an ungodly hour, days where Yuri sits Flynn down just to help him recite whatever he was meant to study for a test.

And then there’s affection. Words of endearment, lingered in small doses of insult toward one another, there’s the occasional hand-holding, and there’s standing close at times. And then there’s Flynn’s different ways of showing his love, the tight embraces, the kisses…

Yuri wants more. And it’s such a selfish and such a strong urge forming itself in his brain and not leaving. Now that they’ve been dating for closer to a year, Yuri lays after dates in his bed, agonizing over himself. What more is there to want? Isn’t this calm in the sea much better than chaos contained within the waves? Yuri is lucky enough that their feelings ended up being mutual, because he never even imagined he would get this far with Flynn.

But that is a vice of itself, Yuri thinks, because it makes him dream. The deeper kisses he and Flynn shared in rare instances could not satisfy all urges, the parts of Yuri he would much rather purge out of existence.

Yuri wishes Flynn were here. That they were embracing over Yuri’s bed, that they were kissing. He’d probably been the one to push Flynn toward the bed, he realises. He’s the enabler in many ways, even if it’s something deemed so selfish. Yuri turns to lay on his side at the thought. Bodies pressed closer, warm feelings contained between them. Yuri thinks about Flynn’s hands, and how they would move to pull Yuri closer, while the gentle touch would leave him longing for some sappy words, some sappy expressions of love.

They’ve yet to settle comfortably in love declarations too. Yuri implies it with words, actions, never using the word itself. Flynn is a bit better about this, though he is just as skittish. If nothing else, he is much better at expressing his affection just through his choice of words than Yuri is. It isn’t that Yuri would mind saying the three words, because he imagines them escaping between him and Flynn, between hushed kissing. But he has yet to find the strength to say them. Yuri can only hope that he is at least able to express them.

He wants to make Flynn feel the same things Yuri is feeling now. He wants to move his hands, his lips, to lay over Flynn, to cup his face and to kiss him harder, until they both are breathless, laughing tired, basking in each other’s comfort. He doesn’t want one of them to have to go home after a date, he doesn’t want them to end on sweet kisses only. He wants them to spend the night, less as best friends still navigating their relationship, but closer to lovers who have been waiting for too long...

The moment Yuri realises he’s gotten too lost in his thoughts, he sits up, almost abruptly. His heart beats hard, it’s all he can hear in the darkness of the night. In the wake of it all, Yuri isn’t sure he is able to accept how he gets about this stuff.

He shuffles his hand through the night stand, until he picks up his phone. A little past 1am. Yuri supposes it’s fair. There aren't any text-related notifications, but he still opens the app for his group chats. Still no notification he happened to miss. Yuri taps the chat with Flynn, the latest message being some reply from Flynn over a meme Yuri sent. It says he’s online, so he’s probably studying.

Yuri begins typing, and he can feel his heart pound through his hands, making them feel weirdly clammy. Yuri pays little attention to it, but to think that he would feel like this… To be honest, it’s nice. That Yuri isn’t immune to something like the fluttering feelings of dating meant that all his thoughts that he can’t say out loud are normal.

He stares at his message for Flynn. He swallows, and he reads through it again. His thumb hovers over the send button. But he presses backspace.

i wish you stayed the night. i love you.

[stark-lupin]

Photographs (Natasha Romanoff x Reader)

Nat x Reader

Idk what this is but it is very sad smh.

Y/F/N = Your Father´s Name. italic is the flashback

 They were gone, your parents. The three of you always were close, they supported you, no matter what. You wanted them back, just so you could spend more time with them again. Your job as Avenger took so much time of your days, and when you had a day off you wanted nothing but sleep.

You feel a hand slip in your, intertwining your fingers. You look up to see the most beautiful green eyes look back at you, your fiancé looked lovingly yet slightly concerned at you. She loved your parents as well. And they loved Natasha like she was their daughter.

You know she´s trying to be strong for you, she knows how much it pains her, so she can´t even imagine the amount of pain you feel.

You get lost in her eyes as you get flashbacks from the day you introduced Nat to your family years ago.

 Your very nervous girlfriend of 6 months comes in the room in a red, lovely, short (not too short), summer dress with flowers on it.  

“Hey, do I look good enough for your parents” she asked, rather anxiously. You pecked her lips softly, while cupping her cheeks, you look her in the eyes and tell her that she looks perfectly fine, no matter what she would wear, your family would love her, you knew it.

After a bit more of you convincing her, you were ready to go. You wore a black top, with a red and black flannel shirt, black ripped jeans and your converse, you weren´t the kind of person to wear shorts. You grabbed your leather jacket and Nat´s hand, gave it a peck and went outside to your car.

The ride to the family barbecue was nice, as usual, the two of you conversed a bit, music always running in the background.

You arrived at your parent´s house just an hour later, arriving exactly at the time you mom told you to. Your other relatives were yet to come, which gave your parents and Nat the opportunity to get to know each other a bit.

You took her hand once again in yours and lead her into the backyard, where your parents were still preparing everything a bit. As soon as you walked in Sammy started to bark. Your beloved Husky, well it really is your parent´s. You patted his head a bit and he turned to Natasha, tail still wagging happily. Natasha bent down and patted him as well.

“Well aren´t you a good, pretty boy huh?” she cooed at him, which caused his tail to wag even more. You smiled and mock offendedly said “And here I was thinking you are MY girlfriend.”. She smiled as well and turned to you, you kissed her forehead and were about to go to greet your parents, as you heard your mother´s voice.

“Y/F/N they´re here! Come outside.” Your dad being the man he is simply asked who, but walked out with your mother, nevertheless.

You met them in the middle, while you expected your mother to greet you instantly with her motherly hug, she turned and greeted Natasha, catching her off guard, but after a moment of realization she hugged back. You and your dad shared a look and hugged as well, you loved his hugs, they always made you feel safe.

Breaking apart your dad told your mother to cool down and let Natasha arrive properly, saying she was probably scaring the poor girl off. Your mother then stopped caressing Natasha´s cheeks and turned to give you a hug, while scolding your father and defending herself that she was just complimenting their daughter´s lover. With a roll of his eyes he chuckled and gave Natasha a gentle hug as well, she returned it immediately, getting that your family is one for those.  

The four of you finished preparing everything and slowly the other parts of your rather big family started to turn up. After a while your cousins arrived with their kids, who were more than happy to see you.

Everyone was being very welcoming to Nat. You both appreciated that, even though you didn´t doubt that one second. Natasha even seemed to enjoy this family gathering, that surprised you a little, not too much.

Everyone chatted happily and time moved fast. Everyone was now gathered on the several sofas, chairs and the floor, around the fireplace, you sat on a sofa with Natasha in your lap and a beer in your hand, taking a swig every now and then. Listening to a story one of the kids told you.

The air started to freshen. The kids now all inside either playing or sleeping. While the adults kept on chatting happily. You noticed Natasha shiver slightly and took off your leather jacket and put it around her shoulders.

Time was still moving on so fast and soon it grew a little quieter, even Natasha got really quiet, cuddled up into you. Deep in a conversation with your father about settling down and starting a family. You would love that, but the world needed you and Natasha so that would have to wait.

“Dad I really think she is the one. Each minute that passes I love her more. I would get her the moon if that is what she wanted. She makes me feel so light and down to earth. She is my safe zone dad, I love her.”. He smiled at you and nodded at Nat. She fell asleep, just like Sammy, who was curled up at your feet.

When you looked at the Russian beauty, she was fast asleep, looking as peaceful as ever. Your dad handed you a blanket and you lied it on top of the two of you. You kissed her forehead and whispered an “I love you” in her hair. And then went back to talking to your family. What you didn´t notice, was that your mom took a picture of you two.

Eventually you grew tired as well and your parents insisted that the two of you should spend the night here. The sofa in the living room was free, big and comfy enough for one night and apparently, they still had few t-shirts and sweatpants and your old favorite hoodie, so you didn´t have to sleep in a jean and a flannel.

After a bit of them convincing you, you agreed and said your good nights, picked Natasha up and carried her inside, she had to sleep very well, because usually she would wake up at that. You laid her on the sofa, got something to wipe off her makeup and did so. Then you changed her into a pair of sweats and one of your t-shirts and tucked her in. After you got changed you joined her. You slung your arms around her, kissed her neck and fell asleep.

 You were broken out of your trance like state, when you felt someone cupping your cheek and wiping away tears, you didn´t realize you shed.

You tried to smile at the person that you loved so much but only managed a pained very little smile. The assassin took your hand in hers yet again and continued to draw patterns on the back of your hand.

After burying them and your very emotional speech, your whole family went to a restaurant to eat. Everyone chatted and several times someone came up to you and hugged you, intentionally making you feel better, but really it just made you miss them more.

You frown after you realized that, meanwhile you were talking to someone who came to you to tell you they´re sorry and whatnot, Nat left your side. Looking around the room you spot the redhead talking to the kid you talked to at the party.

The little boy seemed to tell her a story and Natasha smiled at him the best she could. Nodding every now and then and looking genuinely interested.

You decided to join them, so you went over to where they are stood. You slipped your hand in Nat´s and greeted them. Suspiciously your cousin´s little son ran off after telling Nat to stick to the plan. And not after telling you that you should retie your tie. You tried to but failed miserably.

Natasha saw that you started to grow frustrated and did it for you. When she was done, she kissed your lips, lingering there for a moment, then she pulled away. But you could still feel them. She studied your eyes and then started to make her way over to the exit.

God, she knew exactly that you couldn´t stand to be here for another minute. She led you to your car and got in the driver’s seat. You were beyond exhausted, so you fell asleep rather quickly, thinking you would drive home, which would take some time.

To say it confused you when Natasha woke you up just 20 minutes later was an underestimation. When you looked outside you realized where you were. In front of your childhood home. She got out first, coming to your door to get you out, you were once again in a trance like state. But you managed to pull out of it as you felt the cold January wind hit you in the face.

You walked in; the door already unlocked because Nat went ahead. Sammy, who was a lot older now as well came to greet you. He could tell you were sad. So, he licked your hand, which was just hanging by your side as you stood under the doorframe.

It still smelled like them; everything basically was the way they left it, that means that Nat, who was coming here to feed Sammy and walk him and take care of him every day, did a good job. You would have to thank her for that later.

Meanwhile Nat was here taking care of the Husky, you stayed at the Avengers compound, most of the time on the sofa staring off space. Wanda checked on you, so did Tony and Steve but you just waved them off. Wanda knew what you felt, and it made her sad. But the three of them promised you fiancé to take care of you. Made sure you ate and slept and showered and didn´t let yourself down. They did a relatively good job.

But now you both were here. Alone in a house that feels like home but also strange. You went to find her.

On the sofa was where you found her. She had something in her hands. She looked at you, telling you to take a seat, you did.

A photo album was in her hands. You didn´t know that one though. The two of you opened the book, your mother´s neat handwriting saying, “Happy Marriage”, beneath it both of their handwritings with their signatures.

You teared up, a few tears dropping on the book.

The two of you cuddled up and kept on going through it, picture after picture, most of them were secretly taken of you and Natasha. Some of them with your parents in it. Under many pictures was a little text saying something about the day or the picture.

The very last picture was taken years ago, the two of you on the sofa, cuddled up, sleeping. It was the same night your mother took the other picture outside by the fireplace, that one was next to it.

“Y/N you told me that you think she is the one, your mother and I think the same. We know that Natasha will always love you and protect you. You two belong together. With lots of love, dad” …”Ouch your mom slapped my arm because I didn´t write that we both love the two of you, BUT THAT`S OBVIOUS”. You could almost hear him chuckle after that. You would have laughed at that, if you didn´t feel sobs racking through your body and Natasha´s.

You felt home in her arms, even more in this house. You both cried for a while until you calmed down and started talking about moving into this house and having barbecues here. And doing anything to honour them.

Natasha fell asleep, cuddled up to you, your arms slanged around her, you kissed her neck, told her you love her and fell asleep.

[bumbershots]

A CERTAIN ROMANCE

CHAPTER THREE: WHO ARE YOU?

Author’s note: Hello! Once more I would like to thank you all for the love this story’s been getting, it truly blows my mind. I am also looking for a beta reader so if anyone out there is interested let me know! (: Let’s pick up right where we left off...

Story masterlist ** Word count: 2.3K **

Two souls don't find each other by simple accident, Harry thought after taking a seat for the first time that night, his feet were probably going to be swollen tomorrow, they were killing him already. But he wasn't keen on turning down a dance from the girl collapsing in the settee right next to him. A slow Amy Winehouse song was their cue to rest.

"Do you want a beer?" Her voice sounded a bit hoarse, probably from all the giggling and singing she did while dancing the night away.

"Yes please."

He watched her trot to the small bar on the other side of the flat, focused on how the multiple bracelets bounced in her left wrist as she instructed her brother which beer to give her. As she came back to take her previous seat, he felt a small wave of anxiety for wanting nothing more than to start a conversation with her, as she handed him the beer. Usually it was the other way around, but in most of the cases, people wanted to know his persona.

He knew the silence was becoming awkward, but he was still debating whether to ask about her upbringing or what she did for work, whatever the case was, he didn't want to make a fool out of himself, he almost never seemed to be that lucky.

"You're not used to people being calm around you, are you?" Alma’s frown os curiosity is a mirror to the one on the musician's face.

"Yes and no?" Harry's coy tone makes her smile warmly and shake her head in denial, "so, I'm Hampstead station guy?" Her eyes widen, a shy smile appears on her full lips before she takes another large sip of her drink.

"It's unlikely to find the same person thrice in the tube! I told my friend Laura, it felt like a glitch in the matrix." She answers and he lets out an amused laugh.

"For the record, I wasn't following you, at all..."

"I know, you just had to take the same line I did and it was a happy coincidence," she interrupts him, the new song gathers a few more dancers and Harry wonders if she will ask him to dance again, "although it would've made a great anecdote for my YouTube channel; story time, a famous musician follows me around the city possibly plotting my painful death." She joked as she gingerly flashed her hands before the two of them, as if presenting the latest play from the West End.

It was Harry's eyes turn to be wide and smack his hand into his forehead.

"You have a YouTube channel?" His interest was genuine and Alma made herself more comfortable on the sofa, before proceeding to fill him in about what that was about, just videos about her 'sort of interviewing remarkable people' or so she claimed.

It was something that started as a class project back when she was seventeen, trying to get good grades to win a scholarship and study abroad —none of those things happened. She kept doing it afterwards because it was too much fun, once she interviewed all her friends, she moved onto her family. "Believe me when I tell you, that I have more relatives than I should!" With a smile as big as hers, he sighed before breathing 'lucky' as his heart sped and she continued.

Restaurant owners, chefs, firefighters, barristers, doctors, accountants, waitresses, sexual workers, sex shop employees, bankers, homeless people, hairdressers and apparently every person from her home country had been on the informal interview series. Harry was impressed with the whole concept and her.

"I sort of abandoned it a little when I moved here last year, it was crazy busy the first couple of months and the whole bureaucracy... and I was a little homesick to be honest." For the first time in the night, her voice is thinner, he has to lean in a few inches to hear better, "I miss my parents, my cousins, my aunt, my grandparents. But this is something I've wanted for the longest time you know?" Her eyes bore into his, allowing him to see the vulnerability swimming in them, "I've never felt like an outsider here, never got lost in the tube, took the wrong bus or anything like that. Isn't it weird?" Harry smiled at the sentiment, thoughts of his latest trip to Japan flashing before him.

"No, I think it's marvellous that you feel that way." He cannot be real, is the only thing running through her mind like a restless hamster in its wheel.

Harry and Alma talked about everything they didn’t have in common, despite the brief interruptions to do some shots and drink champagne with the birthday boy. Their families were discussed, their favourite things to do in the summer. Alma even asked him how was work going, as if she didn’t know that he was one of th world’s most successful artists. Harry was thrilled to joke through their drinks and the girl wasn't shy to ask him for a couple more dances. None of them noticed the partying dying around them, it was only after Fernando said his goodbyes to his laughing sister, that they noticed how late/early it actually was.

Before they knew it, golden hues streamed through the window behind them as Freddie walked out of his room and offered them coffee.

"I'm never drinking straight vodka again," Freddie mumbled to himself after finishing his cup of coffee.

"At least it wasn't Vodquila like last time," Alma's words make him groan but agree. "I should go now, need a shower and a healthy breakfast."

After Harry also admitted he needed to be on his way, with all their belongings gathered and after saying goodbye to a very ill Freddie, neither Harry or Alma looked forward to their imminent separation. He had spent hours hearing how busy she is, when not recording content, she was working at Wenzel's and teaching Spanish to her neighbour's daughter on the weekends. Still, he was determined to meet with her again.

As soon as they started moving down the street, Harry noticed the next one was where he had to turn right in order to go home. It wasn't a short walk but the most effective route for sure.

"So, the bus stop is that way," Alma nodded her head to the left, smirking knowingly as she stuffs her hands in her coat pockets.

"Of course," they had come to a rolling stop at the corner. Harry suddenly felt beyond nervous about asking the girl for her phone number. "Thank you, for keeping me company last night." It was amazing he wanted to add, but licked his lips quickly instead.

"You mean keeping you from catching up with all your friends," she corrected him.

Harry shakes his head and smiles, the dimples graciously adorning his cheeks, his racing heart giving him the last push needed to finally ask. "Do you think we could go, like for coffee... sometime?” With that she laughed, immediately memorising the sound of it, her loud cackle is one of the nicest things he has heard in awhile.

"Only if I can buy you something from the selection of pastries." Harry laughed loudly, completely relieved by her answer. She dug around her purse for a moment before taking out a pen and what seemed to be an old receipt, quickly scribbling down her number and handing it to him.

"I'll call you," he beamed, carefully placing the piece of paper in his wallet. He'd be an idiot to lose such a precious fragment of information.

"Looking forward to it," Alma smiled at him for one last time before she started walking to the opposite direction. "See you around Harry." His face was a bit puffy from not having slept properly, but she would be lying to say he didn’t look adorable at the same time.

He waved and watched her walked away, her sweet and tired morning smile seemed to be engraved into the musician's mind as he headed home.

The air was still a bit cold, but the heat was starting to rise and plague London for the rest of the day, the hot summer everyone's been yearning for was finally here, even Harry could feel it in his bones as he continued down his path. He was still highly enamoured by the amazing night he spent sharing a piece of himself with Alma. His feet felt heavy, were even burning a little, but it was nothing as he made his way through his home gate twenty minutes later.

He decided to get some toast and a cuppa for breakfast, his high spirits not faltering even one bit although he could feel the consequences from the all-nighter already with each yawn. After eating he decided to take a shower that got him ready for a well deserved sleep in his comfortable bed.

Waking up around six o'clock startles him at first, Harry is well rested now but a bit grumpy for the weird taste on his tongue, something usual after drinking beer. He scolds himself for not brushing his teeth earlier as he walks in his bathroom. The cool tiles against his bare feet wake him up a bit more. After some needed dental hygiene, Harry gets dressed to go out and pick up his sister for their weekly dinner. Hopefully he can convince her to stay in, that way he can go on and on about the events from the night before.

His feet still hurt, he can even feel a blister underneath his big toe. But it doesn't bother him, it's actually a nice reminder of the incredible things that miraculously happened. Harry knew that since Alma was related to Fernando, someone that was bound to be in his life for the next six months or so, there was a big chance they would've met at some point. But he'd rather think it was fate, some sort of good karma coming round, he stared at her contact on his phone, still charmed by the fact that she gave it to him on the back of a receipt. Ignoring that she only did it that way, because the thought of asking for his mobile to enter it herself, was a very bold move. And Alma wasn’t really that confident, not when his green eyes were boring into hers anyway.

"When are you gonna call her then?" Gemma's voice snaps him out of his daydream for the third time during their quiet dinner in her flat. "What is it? You've got that look."

"What look?" He asks before his sister frowns and pinches her bottom lip with her thumb and index finger. It's his nervous quirk, he sighs, "I don't know, I'm just so nervous." Without a valid reason, he knows the girl is so lovely, maybe that's why.

"You're afraid of fucking it up," she knows, Harry nods. "Well, you could tell her that, perhaps on a text—

"—I want to call her, texting her will make me feel a wanker." Gemma smiles at her little brother, he looked uncharacteristically unsure of himself but nonetheless excited. It was endearing how the first thing he told her after crossing her home's threshold was 'my life is officially a chick flick!' Before proceeding to explain with detail about the whole situation.

"What about a text that reads: hello, this is Harry please save my number so when I find the guts to call you, you don't think it's a telemarketing scam," Gemma might be joking and mocking him all at once, but has a point. A text so she also has his number, makes the situation more even, she can call him too. "Assuming she gave you a real phone number."

"What?" Harry is mortified.

"I'm kidding, you should've seen your face," his sister wanted to drag a bit more her joke, but the preoccupied look on his face stopped her. Gemma couldn't wait to tell their mum, knowing that she would be just as absorbed. "There's nothing wrong with showing interest right away. If you want this to be honest and genuine, set an example." She finished before taking the last bite of pizza.

Harry knew that to be true, but now he was left wondering if it was the right time for him. Had he really left behind all the ghosts and baggage from his past? Or was he still carrying them in the new tattoos of his knees?

Despite his sister's encouraging words about how nothing could go wrong this early with Alma, he couldn't help but wonder if his still grieving heart was ready.

He takes his time walking back home, not caring if it was a really long one, he was aware of the curious eyes once he reached the Southbank but paid no attention to them. He welcomed the chill breeze, hoping for it to cool his boiling mind. Remembering the last time he walked along the river arms around his former flame, her laughter still ringing in his ears, her tender kisses in his knuckles, her delicious scent flying away with the airstream into London's sunshine.

Missing someone is not wrong, Harry reminds himself.

There's no point going down the rabbit hole of what ifs about their relationship. Harry can admit his mistakes, no matter how hard it comes to him, he can also apologise wholeheartedly. He did all those things already, months ago. Which is why he was able to keep her as a friend, not a close one, more like an acquaintance. And she's happy, he can see that, knows it.

Why does he feel like he's still drowning? He's already been pulled from the vast ocean of hers. Harry groans, struggles to open his gate, his good spirits from this morning nowhere to be found.

He doesn't know if it's the memory of her, the fear of loneliness, coincidence and laziness, or a bad habit? But he doesn't text the girl with warm brown eyes, instead he plays the voicemail that sometimes haunts his nightmares, on repeat, for the rest of the night.

///

Let me know if you like the story! *** Join the taglist!

///

TAG LIST: @laurxn-robinson // @mellamolayla

Next chapter

[skyeet-the-writer]

soft touches

here is another one of my original works! i spend a while writing this during classes and it really means a lot. it’s quite personal to me bc this is the kind of life i’d want with a s/o, though it is implied to be a boy x girl relationship. hope you like it!

female oc (skyla) x male oc (mason)

summery: life can easily get stressful, but having a loving boyfriend to come home to makes things a lot easier

word count: ~3.09k

warnings: language, insecurities, suggestive mentions, unbearable amounts of fluff

Rain pelted Skyla’s car as she drove home from college. She was absolutely exhausted. She hadn’t slept well the night before because Mason’s insomnia was keeping him up. And when he didn’t sleep, neither did she. But she had classes and band practice after school, which explained why she was coming home at seven thirty at night.

She stopped at the stop sign and hummed along to the song playing from her phone. She was just about home. Hopefully, Mason wasn’t working late. If he was, she might not wait up for him. She’d probably just take a shower, eat something, and go to sleep.

Skyla took a left turn and drove slowly through the neighborhood. It was dark and also pouring rain, so it’s not like anyone was out and about. Still, she had always been a careful driver.

When she pulled into the driveway of the house she shared with her boyfriend and his best friend, she felt her heart flutter at the sight of Mason’s car in it’s spot. She put her car into park and turned her lights and her wipers off. She made sure everything electronic wouldn’t risk getting wet before opening the car door and opening up her umbrella.

She ran through the mud, which was a mistake because her boots got muddy, as well as mud splashing up on her sweatpants. She groaned and fumbled with her key as she held her umbrella with one hand. She finally unlocked the door and walked inside, shaking her umbrella off outside the door before shutting it and locking it again. She took her boots off and put her umbrella by the door before walking out of the mud room, stepping over the wet puddles from other people walking in and out of the house.

“Mase?” she called through the quiet house. She walked into the bedroom first to put her backpack down and saw no sign of him. So she walked into the kitchen and saw him cooking at the stove with his back to her. She smirked and walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi, honey,” Mason replied, stirring whatever was cooking. “How was your day?”

She shrugged, rubbing her thumb on his stomach and giving him a small squeeze. “It was okay. I’m really tired, though.”

“Yeah… sorry for keeping you up last night.”

But Skyla quickly shook her head, saying, “Don’t apologize. It’s okay. I didn’t mind.” She quickly slipped her hands under his hoodie and squeezed around his waist.

“Yeah?” Mason sounded a bit shaky now as Skyla’s hands were beginning to drift downwards.

“Yeah,” she whispered into his ear as best she could. She was around five inches shorter than him. “I really liked it.” The tips of her fingers brushed his jeans.

Mason’s breathing got more uneven and he stopped stirring. “Fuck baby.”

“What?” she asked, her knuckles now under the waistband. “Something the matter?”

But Mason just made a hot, frustrated groan that made heat strike Skyla’s tummy. She was about to reach what she wanted before Mason grabbed her hand and shoved her against the counter, pinning her hands to the stone. “What’s wrong, baby? Your hands were going somewhere they’re not supposed to,” Mason mumbled, his lips inches from hers.

Skyla started to lean forward, but Mason squeezed her wrists and she stopped. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“Have you?”

She nodded, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth. “Yeah. All day. You’re really distracting.”

Mason laughed and leaned closer, their noses now brushing. “Can’t I get a kiss first?”

And so she leaned forward and kissed her boyfriend hard. One of his hands drifted up to her throat and he squeezed, earning a whine out of her. He bit her lip and slowly pulled away. His blue eyes were dark and hooded as he looked over her face.

“Pretty,” he said before kissing her again, pushing her hips back against the counter with his own hips. Skyla tried to move her hands, but Mason’s grip tightened and he squeezed harder on her throat for five seconds before letting go completely and moving his hand to tangle into her hair.

When they finally had to pull away, Skyla was hot and blushing. “I have to take a shower.”

“Can I join you?” Mason asked.

“Please.” And he let her go, giving her a smack on the ass as she made her way to the bathroom.

~*~

“I’m glad that Blake isn’t here,” Skyla said after their shower, walking back into the kitchen in Mason’s t-shirt and athletic shorts. “He’s...not here, is he?”

Mason laughed and went back to the stove. Her heart fluttered. “No. If he was here, I wouldn’t have let you be as loud as you were.”

Skyla blushed, turning her head to the side. “Where is he, anyway?”

“On a date with Charlotte,” he answered, turning the stove off.

“When am I gonna be able to meet her?” she asked, swinging her legs on the counter, pulling at the promise ring on her finger. “Every time she’s been over, I’ve been at school or work. Does she exist or are you and Blake just lying to me?”

Mason laughed again and turned to her. “She’s real. Maybe we can all go on a double date sometime.”

“Yeah, that would be fun,” Skyla hummed thoughtfully. Thunder rumbled outside and she glanced out the window. It was still raining, but it seemed like it was raining harder now.

“Hey. Are you hungry?”

Skyla turned back to her boyfriend and nodded, grinning. “Starving. I didn’t eat breakfast or lunch--” and then she stopped herself. She fucked up. She fucked up bad.

Mason put the bowl down and slowly approached her. “You haven’t eaten all day?”

“No,” she mumbled, avoiding his concerned eye contact. “I was running late this morning and I just forgot to get lunch because I was finishing homework…”

“Baby,” Mason whispered in that sweet tone that made her melt. “You’ve been forgetting to eat a lot lately. Is everything okay?”

Skyla nodded and leaned into Mason’s hand as he placed it on the side of her face. “I’m fine.” And she was. She had honestly just been forgetting to eat. Besides, it’s not like she had been too hungry recently. “Promise.”

Mason leaned forward and kissed her forehead, pushing her wet bangs out of the way. She smiled gently and wrapped her arms around his middle, hugging him and pulling him closer. He laughed a little as he stumbled and wrapped his arms around her back, his hands resting on her lower back.

“I love you,” she whispered into his shirt, pressing her head against his chest. His heart was beating steadily until it suddenly began to speed up.

“Honey, if you keep hugging me, I’m gonna get hard,” Mason whispered into her ear, a grin in his voice.

“What?” Skyla exclaimed, pulling away but keeping a relatively close distance. “We’re just hugging!”

“I’m between your legs,” he whispered. He was indeed grinning.

Skyla groaned and pushed him away before hopping down off of the counter. “You’re disgusting.” Mason laughed and she picked up a bowl from the counter. “Men are gross.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

After getting some soup, which was tomato according to Mason, Skyla sat beside him on the couch while he scrolled through Netflix. “What do you wanna watch?” he asked her.

She shrugged and blew on a spoonful of soup. “I don’t mind. You choose.”

He hummed and clicked on a movie they had begun watching last night before getting… distracted.

“It’s my favorite Marvel movie,” Skyla teased with a smirk. She looked at Mason and saw him just staring at her with a look that said “I’m done” and she bursted out laughing.

“For the last time, it’s not a Marvel movie,” Mason said with a smile.

“It literally is!” Skyla exclaimed, pointing at the TV. “It has RDJ, Scarlett Johnason, and Jon Faveru. This is Iron Man 2.”

“No!” Mason repeated as he laughed. “Baby, it’s not Iron Man 2.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She brushed it off with a waved hand and started to eat. Mason shook his head and ate as well.

After eating, Skyla went to put the bowls in the sink. She’d do the dishes later. Right now she wanted to cuddle. Apparently, Mason had the same thing in mind because when she returned, he was already sitting on the couch with a blanket. The same blanket, in fact, that Skyla had gotten him for their first Christmas together four years ago. Her heart swelled and she smiled.

“Cuddles?” Mason asked with his brows raised in hope.

She smiled and lay down on the couch. “C’mere, baby.”

Mason made a small sound of happiness and laid on top of her with his head on her chest. Skyla got the blanket fixed and exhaled deeply. This right here was her favorite place in the world. Mason with his hands under her shirt and holding her sides. When he was still in California with his POS mom, he always texted her about how he wanted to cuddle with her. How he wanted to lay his head on her chest and hear her heartbeat. Unsurprisingly, his love language was physical touch.

“Hey.”

She turned away from the movie and looked down at him. She knew what he wanted and so she leaned her head down and gave him one of the softest kisses she had ever given him. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he whispered back against her lips, kissing her again.

“I love you more.” Another kiss.

“I love you most.” Another one, this time a bit more forceful like his words.

She pulled away and smirked. “I love you more than that.”

“If I had to choose you or the stars, I’d choose you every time,” he replied with a smirk.

She scowled. “You can’t use my own pickup line on me. You don’t even like the stars.”

“I like you,” he said, placing his hand on her cheek and stroking her cheek with his hand. “You’re pretty. Like the stars.”

She blushed and turned her face away as he laughed. “Stoppp,” she whined.

“Okay, okay.” He put his head back on her chest and put his hands under her shirt to hold onto her sides. Skyla went back to running her hands through his hair like she often did.

About halfway through the movie, Mason suddenly sat up. Skyla made an upset sound and reached her hands up. She was in the middle of braiding his hair while he was kissing her stomach and borderline giving her hickies.

“What are you doing?” she asked, sitting up more as Mason stood up.

“Switch,” was all he said.

So she nodded and let him lay down on the couch before climbing on top of him. She straddled him, putting her legs on either side of his torso. Mason got the blanket fixed and she snuggled into his chest, laying her head over his heart. She smiled as he felt her immediately begin to run his hands through her hair. Okay, maybe this was her favorite position.

She turned her head to the side to continue to watch the movie. Her hands moved under his shirt, though she struggled a little bit. Skyla noticed him take a deep breath before her hands slipped under his shirt, and so she looked up at him.

“You okay? Am I too heavy?”

“Hm? No, you’re fine baby,” he answered. “It’s just… you were moving your hands.”

“Oh. Sorry, I did kind of touch that spot on your side that you said feels weird. Sorry--”

“No, no.” Mason shook his head. “No, it’s not that. I thought your hands were gonna go down my pants.”

She blushed a little before she smirked. “Oh. Did you want them to?”

“...Maybe.” He mimicked her smirk.

She bit her lip. She really wasn’t in the mood and so she gave him a look.

He had gotten good at knowing what she meant by a simple look. “It’s okay, baby. We already had sex, so it’s okay.”

She hummed a little and gave him a kiss on his throat--basically as far she could reach without moving too much--before settling back into his chest. He rubbed her back and she drew tiny patterns with her fingers.

Skyla had just begun to doze off when suddenly Mason gently shook her. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, squinting. “Hm?”

“We should--were you asleep?” Mason asked, cutting off what he was originally going to say.

Skyla nodded and rubbed her eyes, yawning. “Yeah.” How could she not? She was exhausted and he was warm and safe. “You know scratching my back makes me sleepy.”

Mason smiled. “Sorry, baby. If you’re tired, you can go to bed and I can clean up.”

But then she shook her head and sat up. “No. You cooked so I need to clean. We have a deal.”

He sighed. “Okay. I can help if you want.”

Skyla shook her head again. “No. I can do it. Go to bed, baby. It’s like, 10.”

“That’s not late though,” Mason said, folding the blanket up.

“It is for me,” she said to him. “I’ve got a 7 a.m. class and then work until one. Then I have a 1:30 lecture that goes until 3:30 and then--”

“Honey.” Mason grabbed her arms to make her stop talking. His hands drifted up to her face and he cradled it in his hands. “I was joking. Calm down. I know you’re stressed because of finals and band and everything. Take a breath.”

Skyla nodded and took a deep breath. Her anxiety was getting worse. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he told her with a small laugh. He leaned forward and kissed her head. “I get it. But you’re smart. You’re gonna be okay.”

She said nothing and simply stared up at him. The way he was looking at her, the softness in his blue eyes. She almost started to cry. She swallowed the lump in her throat and leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his middle and gripping his shirt in her hands. He stroked her hair and she pushed her forehead into his shoulder, gritting her teeth so she wouldn’t cry.

“I love you,” Mason whispered after a minute or so. “So much.”

“I love you,” she managed to get out. Her voice was strained as she was on the brink of tears. “I don’t wanna lose you.”

“Honey.” This time, his tone made a tear slip out. It was so sweet, so gentle, so intimate. He wrapped his arms tighter around her and cradled her head. “You won’t. Never again. I’m not leaving you.”

Skyla wanted to tell him how thankful she was, but she couldn’t form the right words. So she nodded against his shoulder and hugged him tighter as Mason hummed and swayed in place. When she sniffled, Mason kissed her forehead and whispered something. It made her smile and nod and she pulled away. He held onto her forearms to keep her from moving too far.

“Hm?” She looked up at him as one of his hands left her arm to cup the side of her face. His thumb stroked her cheekbone and she closed her eyes, leaning into his hand. When it left her, she felt cold and she opened her eyes.

“Let me do the dishes, baby,” Mason whispered. “Go to bed.”

This time, she nodded. “Okay.”

Mason smiled and gently let her go before walking into the kitchen. She stood in the living room and wiped at her eyes and sniffed. After she recollected herself, she made her way into the bedroom. She didn’t have any reason to change clothes since she was already basically in pyjamas already. So she pulled her backpack off of her bed and made sure to plug her laptop into its charger at her desk.

Rubbing at her eye, she pulled her backpack away from the bed and put her phone on her nightstand. After brushing her teeth and avoiding her reflection in the mirror, she got into bed and pulled the blanket up to her neck. Her stuffed animal, a possum, was clutched to her chest.

But she didn’t fall asleep. She just stared at the wall, her mind in a flurry. She only snapped out of it when she heard the front door open and footsteps.

She heard Blake’s voice and then Mason’s. She smiled. She did like Blake, he was always so nice to her. And he was Mason’s best friend, had been since middle school.

But part of her kind of wished he didn’t live with them. She wished that it was just her and Mason. And maybe a dog. She wished she wouldn’t have to worry about being too loud during sex. Blake never mentioned it, bless his heart, but she knew it probably bothered him. She wished that she and Mason could spend the night talking with each other and not have to worry about waking someone up. She wished it was just them.

But then there was laughter, Mason’s laugh, and she felt guilty. Blake made him happy. Why should she wish for someone who makes the love of her life happy to go away?

With a sigh, she closed her eyes. The bed was warm and it smelled like Mason. Maybe this was her favorite place to be.

The door of their bedroom opened once more and she squinted at the light, making a tiny groaning sound.

“Shit,” Mason cursed, quickly closing it once again. “Sorry, baby.”

She just sighed and settled back into the covers, beginning to doze off.

But, as it always did, Mason getting into bed woke her up enough to shift positions. His shirt was off and she put her stuffed animal to the side to instead cuddle with her boyfriend. He chuckled and his chest rumbled under her ear as she got settled.

Their legs tangled together, her head over his pecs as he laid on his back, and his rough, callused fingers slowly drifting up and down her back.

“I’ll try not to wake you up tonight, darling,” he whispered to her.

“Thank you,” she whispered back. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

And they fell asleep like that, wrapped in each other's arms with the rain pattering on their roof to sing the couple to sleep.

——————————

feel free to make requests. reblogs are completely welcome, but no reposts on any other platform unless you ask me first. thanks y’all!

[pokemonislanderprincess]

Contest for the shipping meme?

General:

Rate the Ship -   Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - May and Drew are the personification of “good luck trying to return me without the receipt” while drunk and holding a match up to their marriage certificate. For reference, May is the drunk one holding the lighter, and Drew is in the corner trying not to laugh his ass off. They’re solid, despite the (read: May’s) chaos.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - May and Drew probably got together the quickest out of all of their friends. They both knew within a year of meeting that they liked one another, and it only took about another two years for them to both confess.

How was their first kiss? - They’re about 13, so it’s kind of awkward, very short, but still sweet. Drew gives May a rose after a contest, and they’re already “kind of sort of” dating, so May just kind of leans in and goes for a little peck, which Drew returns.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Drew. In a field of roses and Beautifly very reminiscent where May’s parents got engaged.

Who is the best man/men? - Best Man: Max. Groomsmen: Ash, Brock, Cilan, Clemont.

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - Maid of Honor: Dawn. Bridesmaids: Misty, Solidad, Iris, Serena.

Who did the most planning? - May and Drew actually did a lot of the work together, mostly because May knows Drew is more lowkey than her and wants to make sure he’s comfortable with the plans.

Who stressed the most? - May. Her friends heard about every single wedding related nightmare she experienced (and there were a lot.)

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Harley...initially. Solidad eventually convinces them to invite him. They both regret it within five minutes of the wedding.

Sex:

Who is on top? - This is something they tend to compete for, although Drew normally wins out.

Who is the one to instigate things? - May. She loves to flirt.

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - Drew lasts a while. May...not so much.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Heck no! It’s basically a contest, and there can only be one winner.

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - 2

How many children will they adopt? - 0

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Drew

Who is the stricter parent? - Drew

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - May...this is the one thing she’s pretty strict with because she’s really afraid of injuries.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Drew

Who is the more loved parent? - May and Drew’s kids love them equally, but know which parent to go to if they want something specific.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - May. She’s also most likely to bring the snacks to the kids’ activities, go on field trips, etc. She really enjoys socializing with the other parents.

Who cried the most at graduation? - May. She starts crying before the ceremony even starts.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - May. These kids do not want to cross Drew.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - Drew

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Drew. Not because he has a limited palette, but because he refuses to eat a majority of junk food. May, on the other hand, eats everything.

Who does the grocery shopping? - Drew, because May buys too many snacks and not enough “real” food.

How often do they bake desserts? - Quite a bit! Baking is one thing May learns to do relatively well, so she enjoys whipping something up from time to time.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - May will eat anything, although she often complains that most salads aren’t filling enough for her. Drew veers more towards salads, but won’t turn down meat based meals, especially when they’re well done.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Both: Drew at home, May out at a restaurant. 

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - May. She’s always reading up on popular or highly rated restaurants and always wants to try them.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? - May. It’s happened before. Several times, in fact.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - Drew

Who is really against chores? - May. She just thinks it’s kind of a waste of time because “it’s just gonna get messy all over again.”

Who cleans up after the pets? - They both look after their own Pokemon.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - May. Drew finds her trash and other things all over the place.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Drew used to, but he kind of just gave up at some point. So if people come over and see a mess May left behind, Drew just shrugs it off with a “yes, this is my life.”

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Drew. It’s May’s. Sometimes he gives it back...sometimes he keeps it. Depends on his mood.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - May, although Drew is not quick by any stretch of the imagination.

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - Drew is more likely to be seen out exercising with the Pokemon. May kind of has to be bribed to do it.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - May loves decorating for holidays! It actually gets to be a little garish.

What are their goals for the relationship? - They both love each other and want to have fun, although Drew is more determined to keep their relationship private than May is.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - May

Who plays the most pranks? - May...Drew never even retaliates because he can’t be bothered.

[baroquebucky]

Hey, I read that you do Walter fics. I have a request. Can you one where the reader is a new tech investor and Walter falls for her but (of course) is too scared so Lance tries to play match maker and uses is pigeon form to get them both to meet. And it kind falls apart a little but they meet later when they are both working late in the lab and just have a nice conversation together and a friendship blooms.

A/N: im so sorry for taking this long !!! I hope you can forgive me and i hope u like this <3

You were relatively new to the game, putting in a ridiculously large amount of money into technology that could fail. But like most of the investors, you had way too much money anyway.

Everyone was gathered, hearing pitches that no one really cared about, you especially didn’t care about them. Most of the things people offered were for weapons, gadgets that could help some but not all.

You wanted to invest in someone good, someone who really cared and you could trust in. Then your eyes landed on him. A boy your age who looked much to shy to approach any big shots, but as soon as you saw him you just knew that he was good.

You approached him quickly and with a smile, quickly seeing his many gadgets and seemed to cause no harm.

“hello” you smiled at him and he immediately froze up, he felt himself blushing and his mind turned to mush. For as smart as he was he couldn’t wrap his mind around how it was possible to be as pretty as you were.

“are you okay?” You spoke up before he started stuttering.

“i-yea- i am that- okay i mean- im fine sorry i just yeah” he smiled shyly and you returned it, chuckling softly.

“so explain to me what this is” you motioned to his gadget and he quickly nodded, going on to explain how it worked and what it’s used were. You were very interested, the weapon wouldn’t hurt anyone and I’m a way you would be helping everyone.

“okay, how much do you want?” You spoke, looking at him as he tried to hide his emotions.

“wait like really? like actually?” He spoke smiling at you as you nodded.

“I don’t know i didn’t think I’d get this far” he spoke, scratching his neck and smiling. You ripped a small piece of paper off a notebook on the desk beside you and write your number down haphazardly.

“text me or call me so we can meet to discuss finanaces, or anything else you want” you winked at him before turning on your heel, blushing furiously and smiling like a little girl. Walter on the other hand was stunned and wanted to jump around im excitement.

As Walter got home he texted Lance, asking what you had said meant, did that mean text you only for business or does that mean text you to flirt? Did you think he was cute?

Walter shot these questions at Lance who knew exactly what to do. Being the most amazing spy, Lance found out you loved animals, so finding out that Walter has helped create something to turn you into an animal would surely cause you to fall for him if you hadn’t already.

So the next day you woke up to a knock on your door. You opened it in your pjs and looked around, no one was there. When you closed the door you heard another knock, you opened it and heard a “down here” your eyes went wide when they landed on the small pigeon on your front porch.

“oh my goodness hey little guy are you okay?” You asked slowly approaching the bird. You screamed as it turned into Lance Sterling, your heart racing as your pet dog came bounding to the door to help protect you.

“Lance Sterling? How the hell did you just transform out of a pigeon? That’s insane” you smiled, petting your dog to signal to him that you were fine.

“Walter beckett is how” he smiled and you felt your heart beat pick up.

“Do you wanna come inside? I’m making some breakfast” you smiled and he nodded, taking a seat at your table.

“You know Walter?” You asked, pouring some coffee and setting it out for Lance to pour in his milk and sugar as he pleased.

“yeah he works with me, he’s the guy that developed all the harmless gadgets we have at the spy facility.” He spoke, you smiled, you knew he was good from the beginning.

“if we works with you why does he need investments from other people?” You asked him and he smiled softly.

“Well the new gadget isn’t exactly spy work, it’s more of community helping so it doesn’t fall under what the facility can invest in.” You nodded as he spoke, serving some food on two plates before sitting down next to Lance and talking about the tall, sweet boy you both knew.

“well let him know that I’m still waiting on his text, business related or not” you smiled and Lance smirked, he knew this would turn out amazing.

“I’ll let him know, have a good day y/n”

“You too Lance” you smiled and waved as he drove off. Closing the door behind you and sat on your couch, bored out of your mind. The only thing you could think of was Walter Beckett. And as if clockwork you phone chimed.

Unknown number:

hi it’s walter

beckett

the one with the tech you wanted to invest in :-)

You smiled at the small bursts of messages, quickly typing back.

hi walter of course i remember you

did you finally decide on a price ?

oh i forgot about that

give me a couple days and I’ll have something concrete :-)

we could talk about it over lunch today if you want, maybe 12:30 at this really cool cafe i know

You felt your face flush, you weren’t usually bold, mainly because every man you came in contact with was annoying. Walter was different though.

You saw the typing bubble appear and disappear a couple times before he finally replied.

yeah sounds perfect :~)

You smiled at his response and rolled over on your couch, nearly falling off before catching yourself with your arm and making yourself comfortable. You checked the clock. 10:34 am.

You rushed up to your room and grabbed some nice clothes and rushed into your restroom. You had to look presentable at least.

You showered quickly and got ready. By the time you had finished it was already 11:45 and you smiled as you saw yourself in your mirror. You sent the address to Walter and he quickly replied with a “on my way :-)”

You drove calmly as you finally got to your destination, choosing a booth near a window where you could see the bustling city outside.

Walter walked into the shop looking for you, AirPods in and curls looking somewhat tame. You gave him a small wave and he quickly took his AirPods out and smiled brightly at you.

“hey y/n!” He spoke and you smiled at him.

“hi walt how have you been?” You beamed at him as he took a seat across from you looking at the small menu infront of him.

“I’m good actually and you?” He replied glancing up at you while he skimmed the menu.

“I’m good too” you spoke before looking at him for a second as a smile settled onto your face.

The waitress came to take both your orders and quickly smiled at the two of you while stating that it should only take a couple of minutes to get the orders out. Until then you both had time to talk to each other, and you hoped it wasn’t business related.

“So Lance tells me you have a pet pigeon?” You smiled at the boy and he blushed, smiling and laughing nervously.

“yeah, hey names Lovey she’s so sweet” he spoke, looking at you as if he was waiting for you to make fun of him.

“that’s kind of cool, do you think she would like me?” You asked, leaning in towards him a little more. His smile grew and he nodded his head.

“oh yeah, Lovey would love you so much” he smiled and you leaned back into your seat.

You continued the small talk until the food came out and you both scarfed it down quickly.

“holy cow this food is so good!” Walter Mohamed between bites and you nodded your head.

“best place i know for lunch my guy” you smiled as he continued to eat his heart out.

When you both finished eating you continued to get to know each other. You found out that he is very competitive at arcade games just like you and once played just dance for five hours straight without realizing it until he almost passed out (he had too much coffee).

“I won’t lie to you Y/N i would definitely destroy you at air hockey” he smirked and you laughed, shaking your head at the now confident curly haired brunette infront of you.

“give me a time and place and it’s on Beckett” you raised your eyebrows and smiled as he thought of an arcade nearby. His face lit up as an idea came to mind.

“How about we have a game night? I have just dance and wii sports and Mario games and we could just have some fun!” He smiled and you nodded.

“That’s probably the best idea you’ve had walt!” You jokes as he blushed. You smiled at him as he sent you his address so you had it when you needed it.

“How about next week? Friday?” He offered and you nodded. You both paid and waved goodbye to each other. It was only when you got home that you realized, not once had you mentioned the investment. You smiled as you thought back to the small jokes he had made and how quickly you both had warmed up to each other.

Your phone dinged and you saw the message from walter, a final amount for the tech. You smiled and replied quickly before changing into more comfortable clothing and lying in your bed.

Game night came and you were both immensely competitive, windows were almost broken and you had many rounds of Mario kart because he claimed you were cheating. Lovey fell utterly in love with you and even wanted you to stay the night.

Game night became a weekly thing and some times even Lance would join in. It was the start of something you knew would last.

[cursebreaker-lilith]

HPHM Bang--home

For the @hphmbang2020 ! 

It was fun to write this? The Weasley’s are great! I don’t focus on them enough. Math is not my forte (lol) but ages should be roughly: Bill-16, Charlie-14, Percy-11ish, Fred and George-9, Ron-7, Ginny-6.

The art that goes with this is done by @kathrynalicemc ! You can find the art here ^^

Story under the cut or on Ao3!

A day in the Burrow always begins with Molly Weasley in the kitchen. She’s up before anyone else, dressing quickly so she can get some food into her husband before he leaves for work.

It’s quiet in the house, save for the spells she whispers to ignite the stove fire and gather the dishes. Even the ghoul is quiet this early in the morning, no moans or thumps coming from the attic. It’s so different from how the Burrow is usually, and Molly always takes a moment to appreciate the quiet. She loves her family and doesn’t mind the cacophony they bring, but all that commotion just makes quiet moments like this sweeter.

Arthur is usually the first downstairs—and the first out the door depending on his work schedule. Molly gets a peck on the cheek as she hands Arthur a bowl of porridge. He smiles in thanks and begins to wolf it down. Molly holds back a sigh. Seems like today is one where he needs to leave early.

Her oldest three usually wander downstairs next. Both Charlie and Percy are natural early risers—Charlie likes to take a walk before breakfast in the early dawn light, while Percy basks in the rare silence of the house with a book. It’s the only time she doesn’t admonish him for having a book at the table. Molly knows how much he enjoys the calm.

Bill isn’t an early riser like his brothers, but he’s got into the habit of waking early anyways. When she had been pregnant at the same time as raising toddlers, she had relied on Bill to help her wake, dress, and feed his siblings. Even now, every time he comes downstairs, he asks her if she needs any help, to which she always replies that she doesn’t. She can handle the cooking just fine now, and she wants to let her eldest relax like a child should in the morning.

It’s usually the three of them, Molly, Bill, and Percy, for a while after that. Charlie is out walking, while the younger kids sleep. Ginny sometimes is with them, but as she’s gotten older, she has started to sleep in more. Molly misses bonding with her only daughter who is always so fascinated by seeing food float through the air, but she’ll let her daughter sleep in with her brothers.

Charlie’s arrival is usually when she goes to wake her other children—after she makes Charlie wash all the dirt he accumulated on his walk off at the door and change into clean clothing. None of them appreciate the wake up, especially Ron, but the smell of food wafting through the house usually convinces them it’s a good idea.

With the noise of groans echoing through the house and stomps coming up and down the stairs, she goes back down to the kitchen to start filling bowls. Once everyone’s downstairs, the quiet peace of the morning will be gone until tomorrow.

-x-

Breakfast is loud. Much too loud in the opinion of Percy. Why can’t they all just sit quietly and eat? Why does Fred have to chew with his mouth open to gross out Ginny who squeals? Why can’t his family be normal sometimes? It’s exhausting.

Percy is usually the first to finish because he actually eats his food instead of trying to convince Ron that spiders aren’t that bad. Percy scoffs inwardly. You’re not going to get anywhere, Charlie! He’s terrified of the pests.

He pushes his chair back. “May I be excused?”

His mother gives him a concerned look. “Did you eat enough? You finished pretty quick there.”

Percy considers it. “I’m—”

“Hey, are those the school owls? Percy, get the window.” Bill’s voice interrupts him, and Percy is out of his chair and opening the window before anyone can say anything else. He is turning eleven in a few weeks’ time, just before September 1st, and despite his parent’s assurances that he will be able to attend Hogwarts this year, a part of him is terrified he will have to wait another year.

His heart soars when he sees what the owl is carrying.

“Three letters!” Percy cries out triumphantly. He will get to go to Hogwarts!

Fred and George moan but that is to be expected. They are annoyances who are to be ignored whenever anything big happens. Ron and Ginny join in on the complaining as Percy passes envelopes to Bill and Charlie. He ignores them too, focusing only on his own letter.

Dear Mr. Weasley

We are pleased to inform you that….

He continues to read and desperately tries to ignore his younger siblings rising insistence that they all want to go to Hogwarts now. He can’t let them ruin this for him.

Percy switches to the booklist, scanning it. He has already read all the books for the year, except for the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook. Percy thought it would be that way. He always read Bill’s schoolbooks after his brother finishes a school year.

“So, what’s yours say, Perce?”

A hand snatches the letter from him. Percy sputters as Fred holds the letter in front of his face.

“Fred! Don’t take something from your brother’s hands like that!”

Despite their mother’s reprimand, Fred is unrepentant. “I want to see what the letter looks like!”

Percy snatches his letter back, silently fuming. Fred and George are always like this, ruining every good thing Percy gets. He gets that they’re little kids, but do they have to be so annoying all day every day? “Like you haven’t read Bill or Charlie’s letters? I’m going to my room.”

“Percy—” his mother tries to call, but he ignores her and dumps his empty bowl in the sink. Percy retreats upstairs to his room, ready to savor his Hogwarts letter in the relative quiet of the currently empty upstairs.

This is supposed to be a happy moment and those are always ruined when he’s around the twins.

-x-

Charlie surveys the collection of bits and bobs spread out on a towel. While the assortment of rocks in front of him is undoubtedly very cool looking—one rock is dark grey and shaped like a shoe if you squint, while another seems to have some sort of quartz in it—no matter how you look at it, none of his morning finds is a dragon scale.

Logically, Charlie knows it is unlikely he will find a dragon scale—or tooth, or claw, or dragon related anything—by the Burrow. They live nowhere near a dragon reserve and the Ministry of Magic strictly regulates where dragons can fly, but Charlie can dream. It is possible he could dig and find some dragon scale left behind centuries ago. It isn’t an unheard of thing, just rare. A slim chance is still a chance, and Charlie is nothing if not optimistic when it comes to dragons. He fully believes that he can join the small percentage of people who have happened upon dragon relics.

For now, he stuffs his collection of rocks back into his bag. He usually puts them in a chest by his bed, but Percy is sulking in the room they share and he doesn’t want to deal with his little brother’s snappish mood. It always takes Percy a while to calm down after Fred and George rile him up.

Instead, he goes outside. It’s a nice day. Slightly cloudy, of course, but it doesn’t seem to be rain clouds. As good flying conditions as it’s going to get.

None of his family is outside, so Charlie isn’t interrupted as he takes a broom from the shed and lifts off gently into the sky. He gives himself a minute to just enjoy the feeling of being in the air. Usually, one of his siblings would have noticed him on a broom by this point and begged for Quidditch help so they could also make the Gryffindor team when they went to Hogwarts. Charlie doesn’t mind helping them, not in the least bit, but it is nice to just fly without distractions. To hover and take in the land laid out before him. See light glisten on the river that winds its way through the countryside and into the distant Muggle town. Feel the sun on his back, giving him the slightest bit of warmth against the wind. Flying calms him, and, slightly ironically, grounds him. It reminds him that there is more to life than dragons, believe it or not.

He can’t really leave the shadow of the Burrow—they live too close to Muggles for him to really be able to fly—but doing lazy laps around his home is fine.

“Oi, Charlie! If you’re flying, then can you help us with Quidditch?”

Charlie snorts. The moment of peace was nice while it lasted.

-x-

Ron trudges up another flight of stairs, seriously regretting picking the top floor to live in once he was old enough to have his own room. It is one of the biggest rooms in the house and super cool, no doubt about it, but having to walk up all those stairs after several hours of playing Quidditch nonstop with his brothers is not fun. Not fun at all. Every muscle feels like it’s on fire and those last few steps seem to take forever to make.

He can’t help but let out a groan as he collapses onto his bed. He is covered in sweat and dirt and probably should shower before he gets his blankets and sheets dirty, but he’s too exhausted right now to bother. Mum will clean them anyways before the week is over.

The impromptu Quidditch practice went well, in Ron’s opinion. Fred and George had persuaded him and Charlie into dodging balls that they sent flying, but that wasn’t very hard, even for Ron. Their family didn’t have real bludgers to practice with and had to settle for regular balls that weren’t enchanted to knock people off brooms. Fred and George’s aim was improving, but they couldn’t send the balls flying that high.

Charlie had been amazing to watch. Unlike Ron, who had kept higher in the sky to avoid the twins being menaces, Charlie had kept the ground. Ron could understand how he had become Gryffindor’s Seeker in his second year—there was a precision to how he flew. He seemed to know exactly where Fred and George were going to hit the balls and swerved out of the way easily.

Ron wishes he could fly like that. He tries to tell himself that Charlie is that good because he is fourteen and a teenager, but sometimes Ron has trouble believing that. Charlie has natural talent, everyone says so, but they never say that about Ron.

Quidditch Through the Ages is still on his bed from where Ron had dropped it when he went running to practice Quidditch. He flops over onto his stomach and sighs, flipping through the book. It automatically opens to the section on the teams in Britain, specifically where the small part on the Chudley Cannons starts. Ron isn’t much of a reader, but he’s read this book dozens of times over.

His brothers favor other teams, but Ron thinks his favorite is the Cannons. He maybe relates to them a little. No one expects anything from the Cannon’s, so anytime they do well it’s a celebration.

Flipping through the book, Ron loses track of time. Someday, he wants to play for one of the team’s mentioned. That would be so cool. Quidditch is so cool. Maybe if he bothers Charlie enough they could practice again later—

“Ron!”

He jumps at his mum’s voice.

“Yeah?”

She opens his door a bit and peeks through. “Lunch is ready, dear. Did you not hear me?”

Ron smiles sheepishly. “No, sorry.”

Molly smiles back. “It’s fine. Just be down quickly, okay.”

He nods, and sets Quidditch Through the Ages down. Practice is nice, but food is even better.

-x-

Ginny smashes the two dolls against each other, almost angry that her dolls are made of fabric and not something harder. If they were, then there would be banging noises to represent how upset she feels, and also one might break and that would represent her feelings too.

Well, no, she doesn’t really want to break one of her toys, but she is still so angry! Her stupid brothers spent the whole morning playing Quidditch and when she tried to play with them too, they hadn’t let her. It isn’t fair! Ron is only a year older, so it isn’t like she’s too young. They were only doing it because she’s a girl and that is such a stupid reason.

She smushes the dolls together again in anger—pretending that they’re Fred and George colliding midair because that would be funny to watch—then throws one of the dolls across her room. It hits the wall and then the floor with next to no noise. Ginny pulls her knees to her chest and puffs out her cheeks.

Boys are stupid. Brothers are stupid.

“You okay there, Ginny?”

Ginny looks over to Bill standing in her doorway.

Okay, maybe all brothers aren’t stupid. Just most of them.

She continues to pout but doesn’t yell when Bill comes into her room and sits down across from her.

Bill has a small smile on his face. “Still angry about this morning?”

“No,” she lies. “Maybe.”

He winks at her. “They were being kind of mean, weren’t they?”

Ginny throws her arms out. “Yeah! They wouldn’t even let me watch!”

“Awful.”

“Right? They’re all such stupidheads.”

“The stupidest.”

With that agreement, Ginny finally relaxes and launches into a ramble about all the ways that her brothers (except Bill of course) are very stupid and mean. Bill nods and doesn’t interrupt which is why he is Ginny’s favorite and the only boy in the whole world who isn’t stupid. Well, Bill and her dad. And Harry Potter. They’re all okay.

“You okay now?” Bill asks and Ginny nods. It feels good to have someone take her complaints seriously and not make fun of them (like Ron or Fred or George always do) or reduce them (like her mum sometimes does).

“Thank you for listening,” she says, because she’s polite.

Bill laughs and musses up her hair. She benevolently lets him. “Anytime, kiddo. Have fun playing with your dolls.”

Ginny nods once more as Bill walks out. She crawls over to the other side of the room and guiltily picks up the doll she threw earlier.

“Sorry about that,” she tells the doll who does not reply. “I didn’t really mean to throw you.”

She crawls back to her original spot and picks up another toy on the way, an old doll-sized toy broom that barely can float after years of being owned by the Weasley’s. She puts one of her dolls on the broom.

“There. So, you’re the new Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies and…”

-x-

“So, I think we should first try tricking Ron—”

“Yeah, but if we do, then he’s just going to squeal to Mum—"

“Yeah, but if we try to just sneak into Mum and Dad’s room without a distraction, then we’re more likely to get caught. Ron’s gonna squeal but it’ll have her distracted.”

“Distracted? More like Mum’ll make us wash dishes the Muggle way as punishment.”

Fred and George glare at each other, neither wanting to cede victory to the other. Usually, they get along swimmingly and know just what the other wants, but sometimes fights do happen.

The two noticed their dad sneak in some chocolate bars the day before, likely for Percy’s birthday coming up soon, and he had hidden the chocolate somewhere in his and Mum’s bedroom so no one could eat it. Well, that’s just a silent challenge in the twin’s eyes! It probably wouldn’t take long to actually find the chocolate—Mum kept her room clean and they knew her regular hiding spots—but getting in is the hard part. Their mum always seems to know when they are sneaking into rooms not their own, and they always are scolded for it.

“We could always bribe Ron to help us,” George says eventually. Ron is the easiest of their siblings to bribe. “Instead of tricking him. We are looking for chocolate bars after all.”

Fred wrinkles his nose. “It’d work, sure, but then we’d have to actually give him some of our hard-won chocolate.”

George shrugs. “Can always tell him we found less than we really did. Or not tell him about the chocolate at all and trade a favor.”

“That could work,” Fred strokes his chin as if he is pondering something important and not candy theft. He grins. “We’ll just tell him we won’t bother him for a whole two weeks. That’ll probably work.”

George laughs. Ron is their favorite victim after Percy. Soon, he’ll be their main victim since Percy is off to Hogwarts in a month. “Give him a small reprieve before the real pranks start.”

Identical smirks grow on identical faces.

“Oh, yeah, this will be good.” Fred is laughing now too. “We can even extend it; say we won’t bother him until the others leave for Hogwarts. Lull him into a sense of false security.”

“Obviously, this means we need to come up with something good to do to him on September first.”

“Obviously,” Fred agrees, eyes alight with mischief. “Something big to do the moment we get back from King’s Cross.”

The two of them laugh, any tension from their small fight earlier gone.

George calms down first. “We can plan for that later. Now, we need to convince him to distract Mum so we can have that chocolate.”

Fred falls backwards onto the floor, staring at the ceiling with a smile on his face. “Chocolate. That’s exactly what we need to plan the best prank ever.” He sits up and stretches. “Well, no time like the present! Let’s go.”

-x-

Bill studies the parchment in front of him. Only a few months previous he had taken his O.W.L.’s, and the letter with his exam grades had come a month ago. Despite all the panic he’d felt before and after the exams, Bill had done fine. His schedule the past few years, not even including any extracurriculars, had been packed with twelve classes. The fact that he passed every single one, that he received 8 O’s, 2 E’s and 2 A’s, was amazing and something to be celebrated. People would kill to have marks like that.

Still, part of him feels conflicted going into his sixth year. Apart from Divination and Muggle Studies, the two classes he received the Acceptable grades in, he can get into any N.E.W.T. level class he wants. He even managed to get the O necessary for Snape’s Potions class. But he doesn’t really want to leave any of his old classes behind. He knows it’s necessary and he knows what classes he needs to take to have a career in curse breaking, but he still is so reluctant to commit to them.

It’s the first step towards being an adult and, for the first time in a while, Bill doesn’t want to take the step.

He’s always had to act older than he was, told to look after his siblings and take care of them when his parents were busy, so he’s used to acting in adult ways. It isn’t anything new. But looking at his Hogwarts letter, it suddenly hits him that he is sixteen. One year from now, he’ll be considered an adult by wizarding laws. In two years, if he passes his classes and applies to Gringotts, he could very well be in a different country working to break curses in Egypt or Greece. It’s exciting, Bill can’t deny that, but also terrifying in a way.

Bill looks down once more at the letter from Hogwarts. Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy are the classes he needs to take to become a curse breaker. All are classes he received an O in. Bill loves learning and part of him wishes that he could take more classes than those five, but five N.E.W.T. level classes is already an insane workload. He can always study in his free time, or during vacation.

It’s later in the afternoon, the time of day he is pretty sure is called the golden hour. Outside, he can see that golden reflection in everything below him. He takes a steadying breathe, tries to feel as calm as the environment around him looks. It will be fine. Growing up and becoming and adult is okay.

“Bill? Are you up there? Dinner’s ready soon! Can you get your siblings down to the kitchen?”

Bill stretches, having been musing for quite a while. “Yeah! Be down in a sec.”

“Thank you, dear!”

He listens as his mum wanders away and smiles to himself. It’ll be fine. Growing up is just a new extension of what he’s already been doing his whole life—taking care of his family.

-x-

Depending on how work goes, Arthur usually comes home right as dinner is being served. He has no idea how Molly does it, how she always seems to know right when he finishes his paperwork and clocks out, but there’s rarely a day where he has to wait more than ten minutes for dinner.

He pecks Molly on the cheek, admires her smile, and listens to the jeers from the disgusted children at the table. Fred and George in particular are at that age where any sign of affection is considered sickening, while Ron and Ginny always try to mimic them.

“How’d work go, Dad?” Bill asks with a bright smile.

“Delightfully!” Arthur crows, mostly meaning it. There was more paperwork than usual today and he had to deal with Jameson, but he also had a Muggle-born witch explain to him how planes fly! Apparently, her Muggle brother works as an aerospace engineer and has spent a lot of time explaining the mechanics to her. He enthusiastically explains this to his considerably less excited children.

Ron crinkles his nose in confusion. “I didn’t understand any of that.”

“Dragons are cooler anyways,” Charlie adds predictably. “Do you want to know how they fly?”

“No,” comes several long-suffering voices, used to Charlie’s dragon rambles.

Charlie sulks a bit in his chair. “Dragons are cool,” he mutters.

“Maybe another time, Charlie,” Arthur says, smile still on his face. Charlie perks up a bit at that and nods. Arthur doesn’t mind listening to Charlie ramble—he knows what it’s like to have your passions thought of as weird and wants to give Charlie an outlet somewhere.

“Fred! George!” The two boys yelp at Molly’s loud exclamation. “You’ve barely eaten! Is there something wrong with the food?”

Both boys wildly shake their heads and begin to comically scoop large portions of shepherd’s pie into their mouths. Ginny laughs, but Molly purses her lips and gives Arthur a look. He nods slightly—the boys probably got into some food store and ate before dinner. He’ll have to look for that chocolate for Percy’s birthday cake he hid. That seems like the most likely thing they ate.

Conversation goes from there. Percy rambles a bit about receiving his Hogwarts acceptance letter and gets a proper congratulations for it. Bill talks about the classes he needs while Charlie valiantly tries to talk about dragons once more.

Dragon talk gets derailed by a long discussion about Quidditch after Fred makes a comment about something that happened earlier in the day. This draws in almost the whole family—only Percy and Molly stay quiet.

Arthur shares a smile with Molly as the discussion gets particularly lively. For all the still mornings they see and how much he enjoys those quiet moments, nothing beats the lively debates that happen at dinner where they are all together, as a family.

[silverandarsenic-hcs]

Ghost BC + Breakups HCs

so if you know this or not i also post all the hcs i write onto a thing on wattpad and i got a lovely message on there with a few requests and this is the first one!

What would the Papas, Cardi C and the Ghouls do or how would they go on if they and s/o would break up bc it doesnt work ?

i am sad. these are going to be sad. and then you will be sad too. 

Papa I: he’s just plain old sad. he doesn’t sugar coat it, he doesn’t shut himself off. he heals the most healthily out of the entire group. without you in his life, something is missing, but that doesn’t mean he cant go on without it. and he will. he’ll get his work done, get back to any hobbies he forgot about when all of his spare time was taken up with you, he’ll hang out with friends. he’s not afraid to let people know when he’s upset and when he needs to be alone, and hopes they understand. but he’ll call. he’ll text. he’ll invite you to lunch. he doesn’t understand why you two cant just be friends, even after everything. you say that you cant be friends because of everything, and it cuts just a little deeper than the breakup itself. hes losing you. really losing you, forever.

Papa II: he doesn’t let himself get invested quickly. he doesn't have crushes, or eyes for everyone, and doesn’t have time for the trivial. when he says something, he means it. when he says he loves you, he meant it. and when you told him things were over, you meant it. and he knows that. he’s angry for a long time. that he loved you so much, and showed you a softer side of him no one else got to see, and that you could leave him when he thought things were fine. he doesn't call, and tells himself and everyone else that he wouldn't answer if you did. he would. once the heat of anger dies down and the embers cool, hes just empty in a way he wasn't before. there is a space in his heart that should be taken up by you and your smile, but you're not there, so it’s vacant. 

Papa III: here is your gutted and forlorn papa III im sure you have all thought about. there's a bouquet of flowers in the trash can. he sits on the window sill and stairs outside to the spot in the garden he picked them from, just for you. it stays dark in his house, without your light. he stays in the shower for two long. stays in bed for too long. he just.... lingers. everything he does reminds him of you. the cold side of the bed. cooking dinner just for one, now. the silence in his house without your loud music or tv shows or laughter. he wants to call you, but only tries when he’s so drunk he cant breathe anymore. he knows you wont answer, but at least he tries, and at least he gets to hear your voicemail.

Cardinal Copia: if it wasn’t extremely serious between you two, he’ll act like nothing is wrong and that he knew it was never gonna work, even if he’s upset about it. he doesn’t want people thinking he got in over his head like they say he does. but if you two talked about getting married, being together forever, soulmates type love, he will spare no expense at trying to forget you. he’ll do whatever it takes, things that aren’t like him, things he doesn’t want to do, hes willing to try anything. he’ll drink, and gamble, and sleep around if he has to. but when he’s not trying to forget you, he’s afraid one day all his efforts might work, and that he really will lose the last of you he has left.

Aether: Aether’s Soul Has Left The Chat. he gets the worst out of all of them. III shuts himself out, Copia acts out of character, and II gets angry, but they have nothing on Aether. He won’t leave his house for anything, under any circumstances. he has the person who delivers his food and alcohol meet him in the living room. he’ll drink himself stupid and drink to keep the hangover off. low energy, he’ll piss in bottles in the room so he doesn't have to get up and go to the bathroom. high energy, he will take a bat and smash every single thing in his house and everything you left behind. he doesn't care if he shouldn’t be doing it. he doesn't care if people are worried. he doesn't care if his friends need him - at least for the moment, hes so sick of being the kind dad friend. he’s sick of letting everyone unload their problems on him, and just taking it, and sick of constantly being nice and open and letting himself get hurt. losing you, that was the last straw.

Swiss: gets drunk about it with the lads the next night. that’s about it. he doesn’t really like to be sad, so he just doesn’t do it. you can say hes bottling it up and repressing, you can say he never cared, but he’s just really good at accepting things like this and moving on. the only change is that he spends a little more time alone. most likely to go on vacation to Cuba alone to find himself and relax on a white sandy beach near the ocean. and who does he meet in Cuba? the New love of his life whos way better than the last one. he’ll bring home some girl to live with him and bring her to every party, to make you jealous if thats what you say, but he really has already moved on. his infatuation with new toys knows no bounds.

Mountain: a lot of alone time. if he cant be with you he doesnt want to be with anyone. but he takes care of himself. eats, does his work, goes outside, he’ll go walk through the forest with his hands in his pockets untl he realizes hes lost, and has to find his way home. most likely to take a vacation, just to get away and find himself and be alone for a while. he gets over it relatively quickly, mostly because hes the one actually taking care of his health while he’s going through everything

Rain: He just wants to be with his friends and take his mind off things. he’ll talk about his feelings if he’s in the mood, but he would much rather get cozy with his friends and watch a few movies or play a board game. even if he’s talking about it, and not actively being crazy, he still bottles up a lot of it. he doesn’t want to burden his friends or have them thinking he’s weaker than they already do, so he keeps a lot more in than he lets out. but after a while, he’ll let it out, but only to himself. he’ll do the healing and the soul searching to make sure he really is okay again before telling people he is, and especially okay before he ever looks at another person in that way again.

Dew: he doesn’t care?? haha! he never cared! he will stop at absolutely nothing to make you feel like shit for ever thinking he loved you or that he was capable of such a thing. hes the one you tell your friends is crazy in the group text. he tells himself he hates you and that he never cared and that he isn't hurt so much so often that he starts to believe it. he starts to accept his own lies as the truth - but that's what he does with everything. he pretends it doesn't exist or matter until it doesn’t anymore. one day that man is going to explode and who will be there to pick up the pieces? probably aether if he gets it together any time soon.

- Kat