#im trying not to ramble but trying to explain all this mess is a mouthful! and this is just what I know😭 there’s so much im def missing

[maiteo]

https://www.tumblr.com/maiteo/763706614056435712/httpswwwtumblrcommaiteo763695787724177408wh

Ohhh I was wondering why Francisco Conceicaos was at juve. Did they not wanna work under avb bc they know it’s not gonna be an easy rebuild and it would be easier to jump ship or do they have problems with him?

it had more to do with their loyalty to that dumpster fire that was PdC’s presidency…which I get but the way they (mostly Sergio Conceição) went about it was just so immature and disrespectful to the club…and I still don’t understand why they acted the way they did??

like…40 years of presidency at the club with the last 10-15+ being a mess…why would a (must needed) change be met with so much hostility? the fall out is confusing to me as well bc they weren’t forced out of the club…there wasn’t any disputes (that I know of) between them and AVB which only adds to my confusion😭

im gonna try to wrap this up bc this porto era is a lot to explain but i will say….money is def a driving force behind how ppl have been acting towards this presidency. So much shit came out after PdC was outed and it was shown in sooo many different aspects how he was allowing A LOT of people/players/“leaders” to stuff their pockets as much as they wanted.

[crazy-only]

making dinner with max ! (fluff)

pairing: max x fem!reader

premis: you watch max’s daughter (single dad in this scenario) for more hours than bargained; bby feels bad and decides to treat you to dinner ! lots of fluff !!

preface: omg this one was so much fun to write i wish it would happen to me in real life ＞︿＜ i actually need him, im not kidding ! like always, i hope you enjoy <3 y’all are the best ≧◡≦

head rested on your lap, max’s sweet daughter falls into a deep sleep, tiny body rising and falling with each breath she takes.

“oh, you’re still here,” a male voice says from the main door, silently arriving home like a cat.

you jump a bit and quickly look down to check on penelope, thankfully still sound asleep.

with a smile you shush max and nod to his daughter.

oh, he mouths quietly, having realized his mistake.

with steady hands you carry penelope to her tiny bed, max following your lead like a lost puppy.

or maybe more like a pitbull? his presence was slightly terrifying, him being a millionaire, an f1 racing champion, and such.

and somehow you still managed to have a crush on him.

“there we go,” you murmur under your breath, turning back towards max as the both of you guys exit her room.

“sorry for making you stay for so long,” max says in a normal volume, a safe distance away from his resting daughter.

“it was nothing! i enjoy taking care of her,” you explain shortly, your breath escaping you. you couldn’t place it but there was something about max that intrigued yet scared you. this was the fifth time you’ve watched his daughter; why were you still nervous around him?

he pulled out his wallet, collecting a few hundred-dollar bills. ��here,” he says, handing $300 worth of cash into your shaking hand. “for the overtime.”

you start shaking your head, backing away with raised hands. “no, no; it’s really okay! don’t worry, i enjoy the work.”

max sighs, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. “then let me treat you to dinner.” and before you can refute his answer, he says, “just so i don’t feel guilty later.”

you reluctantly nod, predicting how awkward the rest of this night would be with just the two of you.

“great!” max exclaims, having noticed you accepted his offer, and clasped his hands together. “although you might need to help me cook.”

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

it was a silent night as max and you prepped the ingredients for hamburgers—penelope’s favorite.

“how’s it going over there,” max prompted from time to time as he formed the meat patties.

you’d respond shyly, “good.”—though it was anything from good if you were being honest—you tried to hide with your the scrambled mess of food you made on the chopping board with your back, hoping your boss wouldn’t notice.

you could not cook for your life, and chopping vegetables—tomatoes in this case—was a great display of this shortcoming. you cursed to yourself as you accidentally slit your index finger, sucking on it to avoid any blood spilling. you didn’t think penelope would want blood-flavored burgers.

discreetly you dashed to the other side of his huge kitchen (why did it have to be so big?!) to grab a napkin in hopes of cleaning your wound.

but, proving to be the f1 champion he is, max twisted at the scuttle of your feet, face contorted in concern at the bloody finger.

you slowly turn as max stalks towards you. you say quickly, “ah, it’s just a little cut, i’m so sorry just give me a secon—“

max doesn’t give you time to make excuses, though, as he grabs your finger and inspects it, seeing how bad your wound was.

“a bandage should do,” he says, completely ignoring your nervous ramble, and instead, retrieves a first aid kid from the nearby cabinet.

“sorry,” you squeak, looking at the floor.

“it’s okay, y/n. don’t worry: it happens all the time to me too,” max assures while getting the necessary supplies. suddenly his eyes go wide at your finger.

you had been fisting your hand trying to calm yourself down, completely oblivious to the increased amount of blood escaping your finger.

max quickly brings your finger up to his mouth, and you watch in shock as he sucks the blood away.

woah.

he takes your finger out of his mouth and, deciding it to be clean enough, disinfects it with an alcohol tissue.

you jolt a bit at the sharp feeling of the alcohol seeping into your bloodstream, and max naturally rubs your hand. “sorry, must’ve hurt.”

you shake your head silently, words gone at the fault of his kindness.

after wrapping your finger in a bandage, max hands back your limb (it felt so cold without his warm touch).

he suddenly laughs, noticing your blank stare. “what are you thinking about?”

unable to take your eyes off of your bandaged wound, nor think straight, you murmur, “in-indirect kissing.”

could you blame yourself? your lips went on your finger. then his went on your finger as well. boom! technically that was a kiss, no?

your mind was going crazy, making you a bit dizzy in the real world.

“interesting,” max observed, nodding slowly with a confused smile.

crap, y/n! you scared him!

you desperately try to make things less-awkward between you and the single dad: “no, no, no; it’s not like that, i swear! i’m just like dumb sometimes and blurt things i don’t mean!”

you gulp, trying to read max’s mind as he shrugs and walks back to your vegetable chopping.

he scoffed, taking in your mess of a salad. then he walked back and tugged you gently by your sleeve, standing you in between him and the counter.

“quick crash course on chopping, okay?” he murmured into your ear, making your heart race for about the hundredth time this evening.

would you have a heart attack with all of these stunts max was obliviously pulling?!

“first,” he said, placing a dull knife into your hand, “always have your finger above this part of the knife when cutting thick foods.” he engulfed your hand in his, yours tiny by comparison, and started showing you a generic chopping motion. you could feel his heartbeat against your back and his breathing on your neck. you could barely focus with him around you, let alone this close to you!

“there, try it now,” max suggested after a minute of guiding your hand, having chopped a carrot.

you nod, nervous, but still manage to cut an onion thanks to his teaching. “max! look!”

but your boss was crying and smiling at the same time, hands rubbing his eyes. “i hate onions!”

laughing you hold the chopping board to his face, letting him cry more.

he yells, running away from the satanic vegetable as you chase him around the counter, the both of you attacked with laughing fits.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

“dinner is ready!” max yells, letting penelope know.

you two wait in silence for penelope’s light footsteps to sound but they never come.

max, confused, raises from his chair and goes to her room. “stay here, she must be asleep.”

patiently, you sit, attempting to calm down your accelerated heart. would it just be the two of you?

“yeah, she’s out,” max announces, regaining his seat at the oak table. “i’ll save the food for her tomorrow.”

you nod, hoping penelope would enjoy it. you really tried your best.

“thanks for, um, teaching me, you know, how to chop and stuff,” you said while nudging a french fry around on your plate.

max, in the middle of biting his cheeseburger, nods.

he laughs, suddenly making a realization: “what kind of babysitter can’t cook?”

you look down dreadfully. “sorry,” you whispered, playing with your hands. “that’s my fault for not learning.”

you hear max curse under his breath as he leans closer to you. “look at me, y/n.”

you listen and look up to face the attractive man, trying to hide with a sad smile your teary eyes.

he brushes a strand of your hair back, studying your face for a moment. “it was meant to be a joke, i’m sorry. i didn’t think you’d take it seriously.” he runs a stressed hand through his hair. “you’re the best babysitter penelope’s ever had. she loves talking about the ‘adventures’ you guys have outside, the things you teach her about the world.“

max laughs. “and honestly, she probably prefers the microwaved food you give her.”

you laugh too. “oh, i see,” you pick up a fork and try to eat your salad but you can feel max’s eyes burning into yours. your silverware clatters to the plate, your nerves making any action remotely basic to be impossible.

max silently collects a bit of food for you on his fork from your plate and holds it in front of your face. “ahhh,” he mimics, smiling.

“is this what you call,” he murmured, watching your lips wrap around the fork, “an indirect kiss?”

you chew your food, eyes blinking at the question max posed, wondering if your ears were playing tricks on you.

what do you even say? was your crush flirting with you?

max, noticing your silence, played with his fork. “sorry, that was inappropriate.”

“no, no, no,” you said, face flaming up. “that was the right usage of the word.”

his eyes darted between your lips and eyes, so quick you almost thought it never happened. “can you show me what a ‘kiss’ is, then?”

trembling a bit you say, “it’s, uh, when two people touch each other on their lips and—“

max rose out of his chair with a smile, admiring your sweetness. “can you show me, then?” he neared you, towering over your seated position.

“oh, um,” you mumbled nervously, “only—only if you want.”

he leaned his large hands on the arms of your chair, watching as you shut your eyes quickly.

he laughed, petting your head. “so cute.”

you blindly pouted, a bit embarrassed.

shivering in anticipation, you felt a gentle finger feel your lips. “y/n,” max said, making you open your eyes. “are you okay with this?”

you nodded, staring up at him from under your lashes. “please, max,” you murmur, kissing his calloused finger, causing his eyes to shutter.

he leaned towards you, searching your eyes for confirmation, then softly brushed his lips on yours, him humming at the contact.

he held your check, deepening the kiss, addicted to your taste. you tried to keep up with max, and thankfully, he helped your shy lips along the way.

when he finally pulled away he was panting, you grinning sheepishly.

“way better than indirect kissing,” you decide aloud, making max laugh.

“agreed.”

you leaned your head into his palm. max smiled as he realized you finally opened up for him.

“does daddy have a girlfriend?” a young girl’s voice suddenly asked from behind the both of you, making you jolt away from max’s hand.

penelope, holding a stuffed animal, was standing still in the hallway, her tiny head tilted in confusion.

“oh, no, sorry max, shoot—“ you whisper under your breath.

“yes,” max suddenly stated to his daughter, resting a warm, comforting hand on your shoulder, “she’s mine.”

you look up and find max staring back, raising his eyebrows to check if the statement was true.

you chuckled, raising from your seat to shyly hug your new boyfriend sideways. “i’m his.”

penelope clapped happily, a big smile on her face, making you let out a deep breath. “yayyy!” she exlaimed, “now i can eat mac and cheese always!”

[kouginoa]

PSYCHO PASS PROVIDENCE (english dub) Kougami & Akane moments. (SPOILERS)

at the end i added a photo of me in akane cosplay & kou in popcorn hehe 

this is a mess sorry... 

PT.1 [ how i felt, what im feeling, what i understood and what i saw ]

where do i begin, AH, ill start off with saying psycho-pass will forever make me so happy and i will always find comfort in this show. i’m so happy to have heard the english dub cast again. 

[ i want to say, my movie experience was pretty piss poor sadly, and tbh, i could not focus AT ALL on the movie, on what i feel like was 85% of the time. there was someone in the theater that was kinda like live commenting on the movie and it was so annoying and really broke the most emotional parts. after the movie i cried quietly a bit because i really have been waiting a year for it just for it to come out and be ruined by someone who could not shut their mouth.... just a psa: if your going to see a movie, please remember the space you are in ]

this is kinda just a ramble so sorry if it doesn't make sense~ 

the movie was truly amazing and TBH REALLY HELPED ME UNDERSTAND SEASON 3 in regards to not only why Akane was in jail but to better understand Arata & Kei. which i have to say, i have gown a little more fond of Arata and makes me wonder what more he is going to do in hopefully the later movies/ or hopefully seasons 

there was a lot that happen like ginoza’s hair flying in the wind and also kogamis wet hair but yeah ill skip to the part that really made me think a lot and the part that i could not stop thinking about Akane’s note to Kougami, and the very end/ the end of the movie being him saying he will get Akane out.

PT.2 [ Akane & Kougami]

NOW Kougami and Akane. wow, the part of kougami covering her from the bomb... we love to see it. KOUGAMI CARRYING HER BRIDLE STYLE AGAIN. WE LOVE TO SEE IT !!!!!!! god,,, any moment where it was just them two i wanted to cry and scream, i really need to relive the movie again alone because it was super super good and my dumbass has a pea for a brain and felt like if  i was to have any real reaction my brother (who so kindly went with me to the movie) would just look at me. 

but really they broke my heart many many times during this movie, kougami calling akane, trying to work his way to say sorry but ended up just being a smart ass and akane saying that she wishes he just said sorry. I WANTED TO SCREAM. i feel like this film was really eveything we have been wanting to see out of the two... i really feel bad for akane i do, i don’t know how to explain it but i feel like she was really never able to truly able to talk to kou. i mean she did in the elevator and during the phone call,,, but since kou never said sorry i feel like she never got to talk to him and i felt like it was really a lot for her and what all she experienced. 

kougami saying that he lives with out regret makes me feel like is what pushed akane to do what she did, i want to say, i really wanted to cry, REALLY wanted to cry when akane wrote a letter to him, kou calling akane an idiot/fool just like she did during season one, maybe i feel like, just how much it effected akane when kou wrote her a letter it kinda had the same effect on him. akane ending up in jail really gave kougami a new push, a push he hasn't had in a while

PT.3 [Gino, Kou, Akane]

going off of that kougami’s care for akane has grown as we know it’s party the reason why he came back to Japan was a way to see her and see how much shes has changed things for the better good. but Ginoza and Kougami talking about her really was truly sweet. Ginoza adores Akane a lot, and dare i say is kinda like an unsaid older brother. i thought it was really sweet to hear that Gionza wants to protect akane and make sure nothing happens to her. but with that being said... i really cant begin to think what ginoza felt after what akane did. 

poor ginoza really, i have gown really fond of him in the years leading up to now, after really seeing and understanding how much he cares for akane and how much he wants the best out of her, and how much he wants to see her grow. the part where gionza pushes kou against the wall in anger (for akane) really was fun to see. kougami not keeping his word (we knew he wouldn't) of saying out of their hair. ginoza, what a silly man. to think kou wouldnt find his way back home.. 

PT.4 [ ill shut up now <3 ]

to end- the way the movie ended and the way season three ended makes me want to cry,, even right now, as i said before, akane gave kougami a drive that it doesn't seem like he has has for a while now. although he has always felt the need to also take care of akane this time was different, he feels like she got there because of him, so its now party his job to get her out, 

but it makes me think of the end of season three and when kougami went to go and pick her up, that, besides saying that he was there to get her he also said sorry the sorry that akane had been waiting to hear for a while... but anyways... i think this movie really helped us better understand what more akane and kougmi relationship has faced, and also i like to think this all happen and now they are on the same level and have a better understanding of each other. kougami and akane are and have for once meet as equals. 

i think, what Akane did was really really smart, a smart way to show the world what is going on behind closed doors and how the system that japan is ran on is- like what any government system is,,, flawed. but also how the Sibyl System can be a good stepping stool to an EVEN better system but there just has to be some changes . BUT i also like to believe that while the sibyl system is evil and crazy i think it has its benefits, but just needs to be used wisely and more as a (again) steeping stool rather then a latter, point being... i think in this movie thats what i feel like what was being made super clear, that there needs to be room for growth for both the sibyl system and using it as a helping hand rather than relying it to fully judge someone.

i bet none of this made any sense, im writing this at 1:15AM after a con weekend with no glasses on :D , but this was my thoughts and my opinions about the movie unbiased... i have not read what anyone else had said, i didn't want what i was thinking to be affected by anyone else. but i cant wait to read some ! i like many of you, have been waiting for this for a really long time now and tbh am super sad that the  movie experience was not 100% it wasn't only the person saying shit though-out the whole movie but it was also bad on the theater i went to part as well,,, and like i said, i want to cry, i really do, my first time seeing the move was shat on and just have a hard time remembering what happened due to my bean for a brain lol... anywho

if you have any questions regarding the movie PLEASE DROP A QUESTION IN MY ASK BOX !!!! i want to better format my thoughts and i do best with questions hehehe

as promised… me cosplaying akane (wtf face reveal !??) to the movies + kou in the popcorn 🍿

☆ love u all <3 thanks for making this place, a place where i can talk about anything regarding psycho pass, you don’t understand :,)

[mekakitsune]

Hiii! I loved reading your dating Mirage headcannons. I've been on a roll with simping and loving him That being said, I'd love HCs of how Mirage would act around his (major) crush on a newer Legend who is kind of oblivious to his care for them... so how do you think he'd act when they get hurt outside of a game?

Thank you so much if you fulfill this request! Your writing is truly admirable <33 take care of yourself and happy holidays!

thank you so much love, you are so kind! luv this request btw, i hope its want u wanted <3

cw: bloody nose mentioned quite a lot, elliot is a mess and so is reader..literally lol

mirage with a legend s/o;

pray for your squad mates. its painful to watch.

elliot is SO flirty with you in and out of the games, and ofc, you dont see it as anything unusual from the legend. hes like that with everyone....right?

makes it his own responsibility to keep you on your feet in battle, would probably leave someone else to die to come help you.

yeahhh renee was not happy with him after that one

definitely a bet going around to see if elliot will actually spill his feelings. its become quiet the conversation starter among everyone.

-

you were training one day, something you all did regularly to stay on top of your game

and it can get pretty intense sometimes. but you all know your limits, thats why you called it quits with a bloody nose and a sore back after sparring with kairi.

she was spewing apologizes left and right, and you reassured her it was all in good fun, and that you were okay.

just as she holds out her hand to help you up, the door to the training room opens, and in comes elliot, ajay and octane not far behind him, in their own conversation.

to say elliot reacted immediately would be an understatement, by his reaction you would think you were sitting here being held at knife point.

"what the hell happened in here! we heard yelling... y/n?! youre bleeding?" he rambled on, not really giving either of you a chance to explain yourselves.

kairi steps aside for a moment only to come back with a small white box in her hand. a first aid kit. god knows how long thats been in here.

she passes the kit to elliot, giving a small grin and says "their all yours." with a pat on the back, before following the other two out the door, she turns back to you to mouth "sorry" with a wink. surely she hadnt...planned that.

it was painfully quiet in the room after that. elliot sits on the floor in front of you, opening up the small box to retrieve some gauze.

he hands it to you to place under your nose, and you take it quickly, not wanting to ruin the gym floor or your clothing any further.

hes quiet again, and you look past your hand to see him staring at you.

"she got you good, huh?" he said, with what could only be described as a pout.

"its just a bloody nose elliot...im gonna be okay." you said lightly, trying to ease the tension. he grins and shakes his head

"i know that. it...it just freaks me out to see people i care about get hurt, yknow." he said looking away

you let out a small laugh at his statement. "aw..you care about me? what happened to "dont get close to anyone"? you reminded him of what he said to you when you first came to the base.

while his advice rang true in a place like this, you couldnt help but share his feelings.

"you have...no idea" he said softly, looking at you again. you are only now realizing how close you two are, his face mere inches away from your own.

a few more moments go by, and he finally breaks the silence again.

"can i say something?" he askes, sounding nervous.

"of course" you respond curiously.

"i really want to um...i really want to kiss you right now..." he said, cheeks flushed. "i mean only if you want to i dont want to ma-"

you cut him off with a laugh. he looks horrified honestly and it only makes you giggle even more.

"normally, id say go for it. but im kinda bleeding from my nose right now" you giggled as you watched his face turn even redder.

"yeah! yeah right...i knew that....obviously....whatever, lets go get that cleaned up yeah?" he said, obviously trying to change the subject. you giggled again and got up to follow him out of the gym.

"hey elliot?"

"..yeah?" he turned to you

you stood up a little bit taller to place a kiss on his cheek. stepping back you take in the shocked look on his face

"thats for helping me, and if you really wanna kiss me, wait till im not a bloody mess, yeah?" you grinned at him.

he groaned, turning around to walk out, but you knew he wanted you to follow him.

"i hope you realize what you do to me." he says to you with a grin. "but i will take you up on that...if its okay" hes still unsure. you take that as a sign to slip your hand into his.

"if it wasnt okay, i wouldnt be letting you waste your time on something like a bloody nose yknow" you laughed lightly, hoping to ease both yours and his nerves.

"cant have you like, bleeding out to death." he remarks, keeping his hand in yours. you laugh at his comment.

"wouldnt wanna let me die without that kiss huh?"

he groans again, but you dont miss the shy smile on his face.

[another-stark-sub]

“Are you in love with him?” - Tony Stark Imagine

Notes: I wrote and editted this in two hours instead of going over my notes. Was gonna be spicy fluffy but it just turned into fluffy, and one of the lines/paragraphs (smth like that i dont remember how long that segment was) is based on/inspired by a fanfic on ao3 I bookmarked. I think it’s debt-free, but I could be wrong.  Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and I’m so sorry im not on here more oftennnnn

- - -

“Of course I am. He’s Tony Stark.” You sighed, a weight finally lifted off your chest. “Who isn’t in love with him?”

Bruce blinked a few times, the confusion evident on his face. “Then, why don’t you tell him?”

You scoffed. These geniuses think they know everything, but they couldn’t see what was glaringly obvious to you. “He’s Tony Stark.”

The perplexed expression didn’t disappear from your friend’s expression. So, you explained further, “It’s already a privilege, beyond that really, to be talking to you, to any Avenger. To work with any of you is an honor, and to be friends with you” -you laughed- “it shouldn’t even be possible for someone like me.”

“Don’t say that. You’re amazing, too.” 

You tried to find any tick, any clue that he was lying. But Bruce seemed to really believe this. “I know I’m amazing.” You shrugged. “I’m great. I love and I care deeply, and I have a stable job. I have a place for myself, and I take care of myself.” You clicked your tongue. “However, you all, all  you Avengers… Forget out of my league, more like off planet.

“And Tony? He said it himself. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Add superhero, figurehead, public figure, ex-CEO, and savior of the universe. Bruce, I have confidence in myself, but Tony is something else entirely. No one is worthy of him or his affections unless they’re a god or another Avenger.”

It was hard to keep up with the statistical analysis you were trying to run. The literal one on your hologram and the one keeping your view of Tony in check. So, defeated, you sighed and leaned back in your chair. 

Bruce closed his own work and stood across the lab bench. “Weirdly enough, I’m sure none of us Avengers think that way.” After a few taps of his pen against his palm, he added, “Aren’t there fans making posts about you, too? Tony showed me the, uh, Instagram videos.”

You laughed. “Fan edits don’t make an Avenger. Saving the world does.”

He shrugged. “You help us save the world.”

“From inside Avengers Tower on a computer.” You took a deep breath. “Look, Bruce, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But, I’m not telling him.” You shrugged and brought your statistical analysis back up.

You knew your own worth. You were worthy of an amazing partner and person. Tony Stark, though, was easy beyond that. You had accepted it soon after you realized your own feelings, and while they haven’t dwindled, you knew it was for the best. 

~ - ~

Tony had never resorted to this before. It was never a question of his ability to code. In the past, it was because he didn’t need a program or an AI to do it for him. He could always tell if someone was into him. He knew when Pepper was into him. The moment Rhodey gazed at him back in their MIT days. Every single reporter and heiress and model he slept with, he knew when their thoughts turned sexual or romantic. 

You, though. With you, he couldn’t fucking tell, and he knew it was because of his own feelings. Tony felt intensely for people before. Pepper, Rhodey, that one reporter all those years ago. However, with you, it wasn’t just that fluttery feeling in his gut or the immediate smile he can’t seem to stop when he sees you. It was the comfort he felt when he heard your voice or the softness he could feel in his heart when he saw a picture of you. 

It was like his entire life was full of panic, never resting, never stopping. But when you entered his life with a gentle smile and a quick wit, it felt like he could finally breathe. 

It was addicting. 

“Sir, I have the calculations.”

“Hit me.”

“Speech diagnostics of you and of Ms. (Y/l/n) are similar. Whenever you speak of her, 79.4% is positive and 18.8% is neutral. Ms. (Y/l/n) has  78.9% positive and 17.2% neutral dialogue regarding you. When she speaks of you, her heartrate increases by 4.6%, and similarly, yours increases by 4.1%. When speaking to each other, heartrate initially increases by 7%.”

Tony nodded. “How does this compare to other Avengers? I gush about Banner like a teenager.”

“Well, sir, while you and Ms. (Y/l/n) have high positive dialogue about other Avengers, all of them have at least a 10% decrease compared to each other. And heartrate varies depending on the topic of conversation.”

Tony snapped his fingers. “Am I excluding all non-super friends? Include any agents, co-workers. Pep isn’t an Avenger after all.”

Friday took two seconds and responded. “You and Ms. (Y/l/n) have a significant difference in speech diagnostics when talking about or to each other compared to any other Avenger, co-worker, and friend.”

When Tony remained quiet, Friday added, “Do you want me to repeat the results?”

“You don’t need to, Friday.”

“But you’re not doing anything with the new information. Would you like me to save these findings?”

“Friday,” Tony warned. 

There was silence as the love-wrecked scientist pressed his fist between his brows. Data and cold hard facts said yes, but was it right?

“Sir?”

“Yes, Fri?”

“Would you like me to play examples for you?”

He blinked. “Examples?”

“Yes. Of you and her talking about each other positively.”

It was an invasion of privacy. Tony shouldn’t. 

“Play examples.”

Before his rational mind could tell Friday no. 

“Are you in love with him?”

Tony’s eyes widened. This was too private. It might not even be about him.”Friday-”

“Of course I am.”

“-stop playback.”

“He’s Tony Sta-”

“Playback stopped.”

Tony scrambled. “What? No, wait, go back. Play it.” Screw rational. You knew he was a narcissist. You wouldn’t expect him to hear that and stop. 

“He’s Tony Stark. Who isn’t in love with him?”

“Then, why don’t you tell him?”

“... He’s Tony Stark.”

Tony started to fiddle with something on his desk. “What does that mean?”

Friday answered, “Dr. Banner asked her if she loved you, and she said yes. This means that she’s in love with you.”

Why did he program Friday like this? “I know that. I mean, those two lines. Why does me being Tony Stark stop her from saying something?” Was it the attention? Did you want some sort of normal life away from cameras and international gossip? Maybe it was the Avenging. Having a partner who was always out risking death wasn’t ideal. 

Sure, you could be in love with him. But you couldn’t be with him. 

“Maybe you should ask her.”

There were celebrities who were able to live normal lives. Some paid to have prosthetics for going outside of moved to a remote country to get out of the spotlight. He thrived off attention, but he could give that up. Avenging, he couldn’t give that up, but maybe he could cut back. Take a mission a month instead of one a week. Or maybe take more digital missions. He wasn’t just Iron Man after all. He was a genius, could hack into the Pentagon if he really wanted to. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe I could talk to her.”

~ - ~

The moment you put your bag down on your lab table, Tony said, “You’re gonna be mad.”

You narrowed your brows. “What did you do?” You pressed your palm to your chest. “Oh my god, Peter overwrote my data, didn’t he? Ugh, I know he said he’s great at managing holograms, but really, Tone, you should’ve given him a tutorial before giving him access.” You brought up your holograms to check your data and analysis. 

“That’s not it.” Tony stood next to you as you looked through your files. “I did something that invaded your privacy.”

You tilted your head. Closing the holograms, you took a deep breath and slowly asked, “How?”

Tony flashed an embarrassed grin before sighing. “You’re gonna be shocked, too, so prepare yourself.”

You did not know where this was going at all. What horrible thing could Tony have done? Steeling yourself, you took a deep breath and nodded at him to continue. 

Tony cleared his throat. “Usually, I can tell when someone has feelings for me. People are obvious about it, but you? You aren’t. So, I had Friday do some analysis on our speech patterns. Me, being in love with you, was one of my controls. You and your dialogue regarding me was the main variable. 

“Long story short, I accessed some audio of you and Bruce talking, and you said that you loved me but could never tell me.” He glanced at you. “So that’s why I need to apologize.” 

Your expression didn’t change. No, that wasn’t it. You, at first, looked confused. Now, there was just nothing. No expression. No wrinkled brow in anger of flushed cheeks in embarrassment. Nothing. 

Tony blinked. “You can shout at me now. If you were confused about when to shout at me.”

You licked your lips before taking a deep breath. “Ok, that was a lot.” You pursed your lips then opened it. But, you couldn’t really think of anything to say. You didn’t even know how to feel. “So you know that I” -you pointed at yourself and then at him- “and that I didn’t wanna tell you.” You shook your head. “Wait, do you know why I didn’t want to tell you?”

A broken scoff left Tony’s lips. “Yeah. I’m a mess.”

It was your turn to scoff. “Wait, you’re a mess? That’s why you think I don’t want to tell you?”

“Among other reasons?”

Other reasons? 

You crossed your arms. “Ok, what other reasons?”

Tony looked offended. Still, he listed, “I’m surrounded by cameras, and everyone wants some privacy. Can’t get it if you’re with me. Then, there’s the Iron Man of it all. I went into a wormhole with a nuke. That was also all over the news. Then, there’s the whole daddy issues thing. I’m working on it, but it takes a while-”

He rambled on and on, listing reason after reason, and with each one, you felt tears well up in your eyes. It was a weird mix of heartbreaking, confusing, and enraging. The emotions built up slowly with each word that left his mouth, overwhelming you to the point that you couldn’t even say how it happened. 

But, as Tony paced and talked so horribly about himself, you somehow ended up in front of him with your hands on his cheeks. 

You only realized it when Tony stopped talking and when his breath touched your lips. “What?” he asked. 

You didn’t answer. You kissed him instead. 

It was a hard press of  your lips against his. It was short, and it wasn’t much. 

But by the way Tony gripped the back of your neck and pulled you back for another kiss, you’d think it was his first kiss. You knew it wasn’t. Not just because you knew he had kissed all sorts of people before you, but because he somehow knew how to make you gasp and melt into him. 

While one hand kept you steady, the other trailed down your back and pulled you closer to him. His lips moved fluidly against yours, pushing and pulling, and everytime he moved back, you chased his lips to continue the kiss, because the softness, the passion, the fact it was finally happening, was all too good. You didn’t want it to stop.

Your hands started to move. For someone so rich, his t-shirt was rough when you twisted it between your fingers and pulled it to you. Slowly, you trailed your fingers along the side of his neck. You rubbed your thumb along his pulse point, a reminder that this was indeed real. You were kissing Tony Stark, and- He was pulling away again.

Desperate, you leaned forward, reached around to hold onto his shoulder, and kissed the side of his neck. 

He let out a breathy laugh, and before you could suck on his skin, his stubble scratched your cheek. 

You looked up at him and giggled when his nose bumped into yours. When your giggles turned into a smile, he kissed you again, a soft and short kiss, before leaning his forehead against yours. 

His thumbs rubbed circles into your waist as you lightly scratched the back of his neck. He didn’t say anything. In fact, he seemed busy gazing at you.

“Speechless, Stark?” you teased. 

He laughed. For a few seconds, he just gazed at you, seeming to prove your point. Tony’s hand began to wander, from stroking your cheek to pushing back your hair. “More confused.”

Remembering why you interrupted him, you brought your hands to his cheeks again and held him there so he couldn’t look away from you. “You are amazing, Tony. That’s the reason I didn’t want to tell you.” You shrugged. “You’re too good for me.”

His fidgeting stopped. “Well, that’s not true.”

“Tony, you’re an Avenger.”

“Technically, you are also an Avenger.”

“You’re a genius.”

“Who can’t cook scrambled eggs.”

“You literally saved the universe.”

“After producing weapons of mass destruction for decades.”

You glared at him. 

He glared back. Then, he fought back. “I don’t plan on retiring.”

“Wouldn’t want you to.”

“I have severe PTSD, anxiety, maybe ADHD, all mixed with trauma galore.”

“And I will learn to help you.”

“I couldn’t give you a normal life.”

“I’d rather have you anyway.”

He opened his mouth, but you instead told him, “I’d rather have you than anything. As long as, well, for as long as  you’ll have me.”

He raised his eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

Tony shook his head with a smile. “Cause, I’d rather have you for, well, how does til you get tired of me sound?”

You laughed. “Won’t happen. But, sure.” You kissed him again.You would’ve kept going, but there was something to settle first.  “By the way, Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Is Friday recording right now?”

“Friday records everything. It’s in the contract.”

Friday added, “I record everything that happens in the tower.”

“Ok.” You could work with that. “I’ll forgive you for the invasion of privacy.”

Tony beamed, and you couldn’t help your own smile when he did. Still, you continued, “On one condition.” Your own smile turned devious. “I want evidence that Star Spangled Banner took my ice cream.”

Tony burst out laughing. He kissed you again, a deep kiss, and when he was done, he mumbled, “God, I love you,” against your lips.

[hansolmates]

a hero’s journey (m)

summary; jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story pairing; jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; best friend’s boyfriend au, slice of life, angst with a happy ending because im weak, pining pINING, everyone’s kind of a mess in their own sweet special way, alcohol use, mentions of ze weed, toxic relationships, mean friends, sex—slight dom!kook, food play, fingering, squirting, heavy use of the petname “pretty girl” bc im weak, strength kink, manhandling (oop!) w.c; 22.2k a/n; woof! my first fic for @goldenclosetnetwork​ 23 | jungkook’s birthday project! this goes out to all the closet romantics *ahem me cough* who doesn’t love pining between a cutie koo? a huge thank u for vivi @eerieedits​ for making this bbbBEAUTIFUL fic banner!  

prompt used: “I should’ve known.”

if you like this fic pls consider giving a like n’share🥺💜🥺💜

It’s so easy to ignore the world. 

Maybe it’s a young-adult thing, but it gets difficult fitting into the 9-to-5 and playing to satisfy bosses that don’t entirely understand your work ethic. Maybe it’s out of complacency, or fear. But you prefer to let the world flow around you and when you’re needed, you’ll act. You’ve reached that point in your life where you enjoy the little things, satisfied by an extra hour of overtime tacked onto your paycheck, a new fabric softener, or finding the perfectly squishy yoga mat. 

You’ve finally started feeling comfortable in your shoes, uncaring as to whether you’re single or drowning in college debt, happy to live a relatively stable life. You’re grateful. There’s nothing more than you need than your happiness, and the love of your friends and family. 

Namely, your best friend from college. Jisoo always joked about how you two “won the lottery” as dorm rooms in freshman year were determined by lottery. Pulling numbers 883 and 884, you and Jisoo snagged a corner spot of the dormitory, leaving you two utterly cramped but utterly close as the years went by. Six years later and it’s still the case, the two of you have grown into talented working ladies. While you may not be able to spend time with each other the same way you did in school, you still care for each other. 

So when Jisoo shows up teary with a rumpled dress shirt and her hair waterfalling out of this morning’s bun, you break out the good alcohol and season three of Jane the Virgin for her. 

After the liquid is warm in your cheeks and you’ve fawned enough over Micheal and Rafael’s love triangle, you let Jisoo ramble. 

Jisoo has downed a whole bottle of soju on her own, while you’ve decided to have a tasteful glass of wine. You’d rather be tired wine drunk than wasted on soju. 

“Jungkook and I had a fight,” she warbles, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth, “it was totally stupid.” 

Your eyes flash, picturing Jisoo and Jungkook in quarrel. They’re the epitome of an Instagram-worthy couple, beautiful and deathly charming to a fault. They show nothing but kindness and sweetness to you whenever you third-wheel, not a lick of anger between them when you’re all together.

So a fight is something surprising. Jisoo and Jungkook, J-squared are a power couple. Saying their names next to each other just emits a sort of energy you can only akin to famous small screen couples like Troy and Gabriella or Cory and Topanga. Jisoo’s Instagram is belly full with sweet selfies of them together, the doe-eyed man always looking completely sweet and gentle to the woman in his arms.

You never piqued Jungkook as the type of guy who would pick a “stupid fight.” And you know Jungkook pretty well. 

Maybe a little too well. 

“He surprised me during my lunch break and he caught me talking to Doyoung and he thought I was flirting,” Jisoo is practically eating her sweater, her head falling between her flannel pyjama sleeves. 

“Doyoung, as in your ex Doyoung?” you raise a brow. 

She groans, glaring at you in earnest. “Not you, too! I told him it was ridiculous to get jealous, and then I told him how jealous I get when he’s around girls and I don’t need to tell him that,” she rolls her eyes, twisting her feet petulantly in her fuzzy socks, “but then you know what he says back?” 

You wince, swirling your wine glass, “That you’re crazy?” 

“That I’m crazy, exactly! How did you—” her bloodshot eyes zero in on you, where you’ve tucked yourself in the corner of the couch. You swirl the ruby liquid in your cup, watching the feet web around the cheap crystal, “you think I’m crazy too, don’t you?” 

You swallow your sigh, taking your time to finish your liquid in languid sips. Uneasy, you wish you could just sink through the couch in order to avoid this conversation. Jisoo’s heart is generally in the right direction, but in terms of emotions she has the kind of sensitivity that you prefer to ignore rather than tread. Jungkook is also equally emotional, but in a different way. He wears his heart on his sleeve, preferring to keep things straight as opposed to bottling it up like Jisoo. 

However the theoretic bottle has reached it’s brim and Jisoo’s tipping, fast. 

“I need to tell you something,” Jisoo is swerving, crawling like an infant on wobbly limbs to reach your corner of the couch. You almost stop her, tell her you can continue this conversation in the morning, it’s what you normally do when she drinks into a stupor. But tears are swimming in her glassy caramel eyes and she’s grappling onto your blanket, resting her head in her lap. 

Her glossy russet strands curtain her head, so you don’t see the expression on her face when she says her next words: 

“Jungkook told me he liked you senior year, and I told him you weren’t interested so I’d have a chance.” 

Wow. So that explains everything.

The memories that you’ve tried so hard to brush away, the feelings you’ve tried so hard and continue to try to suppress, are laid out in front of you on a rusted platter. You could laugh, you could fling the rest of the Pinot Grigio down your throat like fresh water on a hot day and call it a night. 

But instead you choke back your tears, and push her off because you’re hurt.  

Deep down you know you would’ve been less upset if she told you the week after Jisoo and Jungkook called it official. If you knew from the beginning, it would’ve been easier on your heart. But it's been over two years since the past, thinking you’ve been needlessly, stupidly, delusional in thinking that you could’ve possibly had a chance with Jungkook.

Because it could’ve been you. And the reason why Jisoo and Jungkook fought today? Now you know it’s because deep down, they know they’re each other’s second choice. 

You can’t even recall a time where Jungkook and Jisoo were together alone before they suddenly started dating, remembering how it used to be you and Jungkook before Jisoo found him one day in your shared apartment, utterly smitten. And now you know you weren’t delusional, because the feelings and the signals you two were exchanging in senior year was real. 

But it doesn’t stop the fact that over two years have passed. Two years of a serious relationship between Jisoo and Jungkook, and two years of you secretly loving him from an arm’s length. 

“You hate me,” Jisoo removes herself from you, voice trembling. The quick, dark part of your mind wants you to snap back of course I hate you. You’ve trusted Jisoo with your life all these years, she was the reason you got through college so gracefully, why you enjoyed the past seven years of your life. 

But the sentiment is stained, and all you can do is deliver a tired smile and stand up. “I don’t hate you,” you say, “I’m just, really overwhelmed. I can’t lie and say that I’m not hurt,” your fingers clutch the fake crystal in your grasp, and for once you’re thankful you’re not strong enough to break it, “but you two love each other now and there’s no point in dwelling in the ‘what-ifs’.” 

Now that you think about it, when was the last time Jisoo treated you like a best friend? You stare at your wine glass, thinking that the only time comfort is provided in this apartment is when Jisoo is upset, never when you’re upset. 

Jisoo bobs her head senselessly, agreeing to every word. It’s pathetic, seeing her on her knees and her eyes glimmering with the hope that you’d forgive her straightaway. She must feel awful. That’s good.  

You sigh, needing to be the bigger person. “You need to call Jungkook and tell him he has nothing to worry about though, after all, you two have history now. As much, if not more than Doyoung.” 

“Right,” she replies, biting her lip. It suddenly feels like you're talking to a wall, carrying a conversation that's long ended.

“As for us,” you have half a mind to slam your glass on the counter, but instead you give it a heavy hand, letting slowly thump to the coffee table, “I don’t think I want to see you two, for a while.” 

“Understandable.” 

“And I don’t want to help you move out anymore,” I just want you gone.  

“Right,” she whispers. The both of you will be completed with your lease in two months, and Jisoo and Jungkook have decided to move into Jungkook’s apartment. As for you, you haven’t decided as to whether you want to go through the whole process of moving out or looking for a new roommate. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so so fucking sorry. I just was insecure as fuck in college and Jungkook was the first person I met in a long time that helped me feel more… like me.”

You want to say that she's right, she’s selfish. Her excuses aren’t palpable anymore. It’s too late. But if you were in Jisoo’s shoes, you’d think this apology is mere crumbs in comparison to your friendship. Why isn't she trying harder? Maybe because she doesn't know any better. After all, you never told her what you felt for him has morphed into love. 

You don’t even have to ask as to whether she’ll tell Jungkook this or not, you now know honesty is not her style. 

Jisoo doesn’t get a goodnight and a drunken kiss on the forehead like she usually does whenever you two have your late night talks. Instead, she seals herself to her own demise as you slam the door to your bedroom, effectively shutting each other out. 

Work is a bitch the following morning. You’re like molasses, rolling out of bed despite the whole world and its mother telling you to go back to sleep. 

Your feet are killing you as you make your walk to work, deciding to wear a pair of red-backed heels so you can stomp your way through your day. 

Your Wusband (Work-Husband) Kim Namjoon matches you step-for-step, eyes glued to his phone as he catches you on the sidewalk. “Woman on a mission,” he comments absentmindedly, eyes glued to his phone as he follows the click of your shoes to your favorite cafe. 

You spare a glance to your right hand-man, eyeing him appreciatively at his dedication to your morning routine. He’s your favorite co-worker, one who keeps you on time to your meetings and keeps you sane when you want to pull your hair out and dig out a coffin in your little cubicle. Namjoon’s long legs always seem to catch up with you during your workweek, whether it’s to get coffee in the morning or to talk shit about the latest gossip in the breakroom. 

The bell of the glass door tinkles in your ears as you enter the café, relatively busy for the morning rush. While you wait in line, Namjoon ticks off your activity list for today. 

“Meeting with Victoria is cancelled this morning,” you groan in relief, your supervisor Victoria always scares the shit out of you even when she’s not doing anything, “and just the usual proofing and whatever we have to do on the third floor today—can I get a large iced Americano with a pump of caramel? Thanks,” Namjoon moves aside so you can throw your order in as well, “and after work could you stop by Vernon’s? He took a sick day today and he has most of the manuscripts for the next issue.” 

“Done and done,” you swipe your card in the dip, tucking your card away in your zippered pouch. “So like, do Americanos taste any good? Like it’s literally watered down espresso how do you pay to drink watered down tar—” 

Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter. Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter swirling stray sugar crystals with his thumb and putting them in his napkin. What an impeccable display of Virgo energy, absentmindedly cleaning things he has no business doing. You scoff to yourself, recalling this morning that Jisoo got off the phone this morning with a stupid smile on her face. From the mirror image that Jungkook is excluding while he’s smiling on his cellphone like a smitten teenager, it seems like they’ve made up. 

Nevertheless the hurt from last night is still fresh in your bones, and you force yourself to look away despite the fact that your morning pick-me-ups are almost done and are sitting tauntingly next to Jungkook’s elbow. Does he really need to learn against the counter like he owns it? Hair slightly damp from the shower, your heart beats a little faster at the fresh image.His biceps are straining against his charcoal lycra long sleeve, which is slightly damp from his morning run. Snap out of it! You are a mature, working woman who does not swoon in the view of bulgy muscles, especially when the man who owns those muscles is taken. Suddenly there’s a call of your name, and two cups and a paper bag are put in front of Jungkook. 

He blinks, and you immediately pale when you see his eyes flit over your name surrounded by your favorite coral pink beverage. You feel struck as his head perks up at the name and he narrowly makes eye-contact—

“The fuck you’re doing,” Namjoon gripes, shoving your guava iced tea and croissant in your chest, “standing there like a moron as if we don’t got shit to do today.” 

“Sorry,” you mumble, pulling at the brown paper bag to tug a piece of croissant between your teeth. The warmth, buttery pastry melts in your tastebuds. Ah, bread. Nothing like a little bit of carb to make you feel better. 

You’re suddenly thankful for Namjoon’s gargantuan torso from effectively blocking you from Jungkook, hauling you out of the coffee shop like a petulant toddler. He doesn’t even give you a chance to catch another secret look at the object of your affections, making sure you’re back in your work game before you enter the building. Even if he doesn’t know it, Kim Namjoon’s always got your back. 

Or in today’s case, breathing down your back. 

Without your third editor and a hard deadline coming up by the end of the week, you and Namjoon are working in tandem throughout your 9-5 to complete drafts for Big Hit Publishings Arts & Media section. Both of you take turns to bring snacks and feed each other, feeling like reading zombies and slaves to your desk as you remind each other to breathe throughout the whole ordeal. 

In complete honesty you don’t totally mind. Namjoon is a great partner-in-crime, and you both love what you do and do a damn good job at it. You call it “Buzzfeed but with Benefits.” 

And at least for today, you could quell the feelings in your chest from last night and this morning. Sure, you’ve always been okay with the pining you’ve had for Jungkook. The feeling comes and goes whenever it pleases, and since yesterday you’ve been okay with just admiring from afar and being their third wheel. 

However, now the feelings are acutely comparable to a third-degree burn with the help of Jisoo playing with fire. 

With a quiet exhale, you concede in your gaming chair (because it’s just so damn comfy to keep in the office.) You’re an adult and not a petty child, and you will not let this piece of information derail you from your calm, stable lifestyle. 

But honestly? Fuck Jisoo. 

“Let’s go, buckaroo,” Namjoon logs off for you, the cinnamon-y smell of his shampoo effectively waking up your senses, “it’s already 5:30. And you said you’d stop by Vern’s to get his drafts.” 

“Right,” you blurt, mindlessly putting away your papers and snack wrappers in your bag. You can’t believe the whole day’s gone already. 

“Maybe you don’t even have to go to his apartment. Just text him or whatever.” 

“Sounds good, thanks Joonie.” 

“And y/n?” Namjoon gives you a look that causes you to force a terse smile, one you give one too many times to higher-ups at work. It isn’t to insult Namjoon by any means, but you guys are partners, the kind that tell way too much but hide just enough to remain close from afar. “Take it easy, will you?” 

“I will,” you concede, stretching your arms, “I’m def overdue for a massage.” 

“You don’t look sick,” you scoff, taking in the casual look your co-editor boasts as he leans casually against the doorway. 

Hansol Vernon Chwe is the epitome of fluffy, decked out in large electric blue sweats and his russet brown hair curling softly above his porcelain skin. Not only is he your co-editor, but also a friend from college. Not to the extent that you were with Jisoo and Jungkook, but you operated in the same publishing club and managed to get partnering internships that made you the co-workers you are today. You see a little bit of that collegiate youth in Vernon right now, as he looks well-rested and fresh faced despite the fact he probably didn’t apply moisturizer or drink enough water today.

“But you kinda do,” he tilts his head, noting the heels that adorn your feet, “you’re wearing your sexy shoes today, that means something’s going on.” 

“Gee, ever the ladies’ man,” you scoff, getting under his arm to invite yourself inside, “all I want is the completed interviews so we can pick out the best parts and draft them. Then I’ll be on my merry way.” 

“Oh c’mon, we’ve been talking nothing but work this whole damn month. What happened to college when we’d talk hours about House Hunters, the safeness of library sex, that little furry thing in Lincoln Hall’s urinal? That was prime conversation.” 

“Vern, I’m just here for the drafts,” you sit at his tiny kitchen table, glaring at his open laptop.  

“You could’ve just emailed me,” he teases, twisting around his chair so he can rest his arms against the back. “But since you’re here, that means you probably wanna spill some tea but you’re too upset to admit it.” 

“If I talk will you stop talking like that?” 

“Yes. Give me the juicy details. Need some juicy juice.” 

“Nevermind, get out of my apartment.” 

“Uh, this is my apartment.” 

“My point still stands,” you make another face at his outfit, “you look like the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.”  

Vernon purses his lips, scooting his chair closer to yours. He’s unfazed by your insult, far used to your defenses being higher up than Fort Knox. He looks up at you with his pretty lashes and deceivingly sweet caramel eyes, leaning his head along the backrest. “C’mon, tell me what’s bothering you,” he says in a gentle tone, coaxing you open. 

He always knew how to do it for you, a little bit of sweet talking and that clear open gaze always reduced you to shreds in university. For him, it always took a good meal and some sci-fi movies to get him to talk. That must be why you’ve stayed friends for so long, you two knew how to connect. 

Finally you crack, kicking off your shoes and hoping the sharp end doesn’t land on his cat. You hear Luna meow in protest but she’s got great reflexes. Unbuttoning the first three buttons of your stuffy blazer, you air out your cleavage, not caring about Vernon’s gaze. He’s seen worse. 

“Remember Jeon Jungkook? Majored in graphic design.”

“Ah, yeah. The guy who like, lived at the gym and the dining hall? Haven’t seen him in a minute,” his eyes seem to glaze over the glory days, reminiscing in the simultaneous safetynet and stressor that made up your early twenties, “didn’t you guys hit it off real well? Like I remember you ditched like—three sci-fi nights to study with him. Who even studies at 1AM?” 

“Yeah, we did,” and you can’t help but frown at as you remember the 7-Eleven runs, the utter warmth you felt when he would wipe a stray rice grain off your cheek, and how happy you felt to laugh so much with him it hurt, “but uh. Jisoo got drunk last night, because they had a fight. And she sort of admitted to me that she sabotaged our relationship and told Jungkook I wasn’t interested in him so they could start dating. Two years later and here we are.” 

A pause. And then, “Want a beer?” 

Vernon doesn’t even wait for a response when he gets up, bare feet slapping against the tile as he prepares some drinks and snacks for you. 

“That’s pretty fucked up,” he practically sing-songs among the cacophony of popcorn pop-pop-popping in the microwave. The aroma of buttery kernels is all but a relief, reminding you of movie matinees, “and like, she knew you liked him! It was totally obvious, even if you didn’t spell it out for her.” 

“Yeah,” you practically gushed to Jisoo those past two months, every waking moment with heart-eyes over the talented graphic designer Jeon Jungkook. 

“I can’t believe Jisoo would keep that a secret from you for so long. Like, can you even trust her anymore?” 

“Don’t know, was she even my bestfriend or was I just a good roommate to her?” you ask. Vernon is holding two beers in one hand and a bag of popcorn by the tips of his fingers in the other, careful to not burn himself. Opening the beer for you, you thank him and take a long swig.

“Well, good thing you’re still not in love with him or whatever. That would really suck. Unless—”

The look on your face says it all. You’re practically snotting into your bottle, your face tucked into your chin as you fight hard to stop the tears you’ve been suppressing for the last two years. “Don’t give me your pity,” you garble, turning away from the sad look Vernon gives you as he wraps his arms around you. 

The tears are soft and gentle, flowing freely onto the cotton of Vernon’s arms as you let it out. 

“‘M’not,” he concedes, rubbing his chin into your neck. He really is a lot like Luna, just like his  cat ready to give you affection. “Let’s just, get some take-out and watch Hamilton or something.” 

He lets you wear his matching sweat suit, lime green, as you order Thai food and rap along to Hamilton’s sick beats. Vernon does a better job keeping the flow, but you’re having a good time being his hype man as he parades around the living room like it’s 1776. 

You go home that night around ten o’clock, feeling noticeably lighter and more relaxed. Be that it may you are still wearing the sweatpants and heels ensemble, you feel comforted. 

The apartment is quiet when you walk in, not a single light turned on. You get a slice of the city lights bleeding in from the organza curtains, which allow you to kick off your heels and hobble to where you think the kitchen counter is. 

Today is Jisoo’s day to cook dinner. You can tell she decided to cook today from the faint smell of Japanese curry and a small unwashed plate in the sink. Whenever it was someone’s turn, they usually left an extra bowl or serving in it for the other roommate when they got home. Unsurprisingly, you find no such thing on the counter or in the fridge. 

You’re not upset, but rather decided. If Jisoo is going to let your friendship fade off with no intention of redeeming herself, then you should give her the same amount of energy back. You realize now the apology she gave last night wasn’t for you, but empty words to make her feel better and mend whatever toxicity she’s created in her own relationships. People like Namjoon and Vernon reminded you that you didn’t need to try and earn other people’s friendships. 

It’s disappointing, but the feeling is all but too familiar. 

If you could describe Jisoo as anything, it would be the color pink. Blushing, beautiful, beguiling pink. The way she flushes when Jungkook does an uncalled for grandiose gesture of romance, or when she wears a hot magenta number when she’s hosting a fashion show. Jisoo is the personification of La vie en rose, unbothered and unabashed.  

But now all you see when you think of Jisoo? Nothing but red. 

With that, you go in your room and untack the polaroid of you and Jisoo at the carnival last month, putting it away in your junk drawer to be forgotten. 

“You’re running away.” 

“Am not.” 

“Are too,” that interjection comes from Vernon’s roommate, Jung Hoseok. He’s been watching you two bicker over work for the past hour while he plays GTA5, failing to get a good hard carry because you and Vernon are too busy discussing whatever finishing touches you need on your final draft. 

“No one asked for your opinion, Jung,” you throw over your shoulder. 

“I’m just saying,” Hoseok flicks his wrist and nabs a tank, “you never wanna go home, you eat all our food, and I found your pyjamas in my laundry basket.” 

“You said your basket was the blue one,” you hiss under your breath. 

“The navy blue one,” Vernon chirps unhelpfully, “not the electric blue one.” 

Hoseok hits “save” on his campaign, disconnecting from his PS4 and stretching his lean limbs. “I mean, we could use a third roommate,” Hoseok jokes, getting up from the couch and grabbing a handful of M&Ms from your bowl, “you do make a bomb mac n’cheese.” 

“Appreciated,” you relent when Hoseok presses a kiss to your cheek and tells Vernon he’ll be back late working, leaving you and Vernon alone in their shared apartment. When Hoseok is gone, you stare at the door, tilting your head, “y’know,” you remark, “Hoseok’s a cool guy, why did I never hang out with him in college?” 

“Because he was stoned the majority of senior year and you just didn’t vibe with that crowd.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“But, you’re trying to change the subject,” Vernon carefully untacks your hands from your keyboard, knowing that you two have already been done with this month's issue and you’re now just mindlessly re-reading emails. “You’ve been here since Thursday, and now it’s Saturday. And as much as Hoseok and I like having you around so you can wake me up before we go to work, it’d be nice to throw me a bone and let me in on what you’re thinking right now.” 

You frown, noting Vernon’s large hand covering your laptop closed. He isn’t going to remove his hand anytime soon unless you talk. “Jungkook’s helping Jisoo pack up her half of the apartment this weekend and I don’t want to be there,” you say, short and simple. 

“You miss her?” 

“Yeah,” you admit honestly. You hate this version of yourself, unable to even look at Jisoo nowadays despite the fact you’re under the same roof for the remainder of the month. It’s hard to believe that the roommate from six years ago finally got under your skin, cancelling out all the years of friendship because of one silly relationship, “sad she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.” 

“Did you talk about it?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you reply despondently, “if she cared at all she would’ve to apologize again by now.”

Vernon figures, and his neutral expression doesn’t change as he leads you to the couch, brushing away Hoseok’s things so you two can get comfy. You busy yourself with the remote, exiting the PS4 homepage to scroll Netflix. 

“And are you trying to get over him?” 

“I mean, yeah,” you have been, but it’s a little hard when you’ve been contentedly pining. It was easy to keep your feelings bottled up because you originally thought Jisoo and Jungkook were meant to be for each other for the past two years. Now you're still pining but ruefully bitter at Jisoo.

“It’s not fair, y’know. She broke girl code, bros before hoes. Or is it chicks before dicks?” Vernon shakes his head at his lame attempt to get you to smile, which works anyway because Vernon’s silly and his sense of humor always gets you a little loose. “It’s your house too, you shouldn’t feel like you don’t belong there.” 

“Well I was supposed to help her move out this weekend, and I’d prefer it if Jungkook didn’t know what was going on.” 

“What?” your friend furrows his thick brows together, tucking his hands under his knees as he leans into your stubborn expression. “You’re gonna let Jungkook go on with his life not knowing that his relationship is based on a lie. That’s not cool. Even if you’re into him, he’s still your friend.” 

Damn, when did Vernon get so good at giving advice? Truth is Vernon’s always been good at dishing advice, you’ve just been privy to what you wanted to reveal to him. The first year or so being together outside of college was always about work, saving each other’s asses to ensure you two got that promotion and aim higher and higher. Now that goal is out of the way, and what better way to reconnect over some shoddy romance straight out of a Degrassi special? 

“I know,” you hug your knees tight to your chest, “when I’m ready, okay?” 

“Okay,” he agrees, because he’s not a pusher, “do you know the best way to get over someone?” 

“What?” 

“The best way to get over someone, is to get under someone," he emphasizes that point with his hands, sliding one under the other with a wiggle of his thick brows.

You slap him on the shoulder, “Vern, you disgust me.” 

“But it works!” 

“I’m not going on Tinder to find a fuckbuddy.” 

“You don’t have to look on Tinder or Tumble.” 

“Bumble.” 

“Whatever,” and his eyes flicker to his lap, where his pale fingertips turn red as he grips the edge of a throw pillow. "If you really don't wanna find someone, I can help." 

Is Vernon offering himself up? He is offering to fuck your brains out in the hope that you could inevitably fuck out your interest in Jungkook? Your eyes flicker over to Vernon's form on the couch, who's tucked in the couch just as you are. 

It’s true that you find Vernon attractive, and to some extent he definitely finds you attractive as well otherwise he wouldn’t have suggested the idea. It’s just that in college you never viewed him in that kind of light, probably because you were always so caught up in Jungkook. But tonight you can’t seem to ignore the eagerness hidden in Vernon’s carmine gaze, and how shiny and touchable his chocolate locks look under the setting sun. 

“I don’t want our friendship to change,” you reply slowly, furrowing your brows. “I appreciate it, but I don’t know. It sounds like a temporary fix.” 

“Can’t knock it if you don’t try it,” and out of curiosity, you don’t shy away when Vernon leans over to you, squeezing himself between the couch so he can tuck you in his arms. “I want to help you, but only if you want to.” 

Maybe it’s the frustration you feel with Jisoo, Jungkook’s ignorance, or the fact that you haven’t felt physical pleasure in such a long time, but you soften into Vernon’s hold. He’s relaxed, nothing betraying him as he waits patiently for your answer. You’ve always admired how much he kept up his “cool as a cucumber” demeanor. He isn’t the type of guy to let life pass him by, but he’s the kind of person who walks along life, embracing the ups and downs like old friends. He’s the ocean waves that crest along the shore, pushing and pulling along without a care in the world. 

He’s the textbook opposite of Jeon Jungkook, which is why you give Vernon the okay to lean in and press his lips against yours. 

His kisses are soft, and he takes great care in making sure you’re comfortable with this new step in your relationship. It almost feels as if you’re cutting corners, and you can’t help but feel a little guilty that you revel in the way Vernon’s hands trail under your too-large t-shirt. 

The pleasure you’ve ached for is there, bubbling low in the pit of your belly. It’s hard to get you out of your mind however, because this man isn’t the one you love. His kisses hold no power, only brief reprieve. Your heart doesn’t palpitate and your palms don’t sweat, you’re just languid. 

You’re greedy and selfish, but you remind yourself that it’s okay to allow yourself of these freedoms, even for a little bit. As Vernon finds your sweet spot that has you rolling your hips against his, you find that temporary fix isn’t a bad start at all. 

When you trudge back to your apartment that night after much reluctance, your face is still flushed and you think you smell a little too much like Vernon’s cologne. But the fact that still stands is that you're satiated, and you feel a tiny percent closer to moving on. 

The television is glowing with a terrible reality TV show, angry brides upset over cake layers or whatever. Jungkook and Jisoo have fallen asleep on the couch, surrounded by half-empty boxes. Jungkook has his arm lazily over Jisoo, her petite body fitting perfectly between his chest and the crook of his neck. 

You scoff when you spy Jisoo's bedazzled manicure digging into Jungkook's bicep, as if someone's going to take him away if she doesn't hold tight.

With stiff muscles you spare one look at Jungkook, ignoring the pang in your chest as you weave between boxes to turn the TV off. Barely an iota of your feelings have dissipated since your previous tryst with Vernon not an hour ago. Looking at Jungkook brings it all back, unfortunately. You suppose the feelings will pass with time. The soft hum of the television ceases, and you’re bathed in a room that feels dark and empty, despite the apparent life in the room. 

There’s some bleary talk coming from the couch as you walk to your bedroom, and if Jungkook is sleepily mumbling your name in question, you pretend you don’t hear. 

“So, where’s y/n? I thought she was going to help us pack.” 

It’s an innocent enough question, as Jungkook scans the corner of the living room hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You haven’t come out yet. He knows that you love sleeping in on the weekends, but he hopes the smell of fresh food will coax you to the table. His pan is sizzling in protest, telling Jungkook to quit talking and flip the hashbrowns. He's fried up three, in the hopes you’d be up for some crispy potatoes. He knows how much you love potatoes, especially at 2AM when you’re craving fries and a McFlurry combo. 

Instead Jisoo mutters, “You toasted too much bread, you know I don’t eat bread like this,” she’s pulling slice by slice out of the toaster, until there’s a stack of six golden toasts in the middle of the kitchen table. 

A little part of him wishes to quell the precursor to the argument there. It would be so easy for Jungkook to say, “the extras are for me” because he’s trying to gain weight, and that would be that. 

Instead he continues with his unanswered question and replies honestly, “I made extra toast for y/n, babe. She was supposed to help us pack but I haven’t seen her all weekend.” But he’s pretty sure you came home last night, unless that was his imagination. 

Jisoo pulls a carafé of apple juice out of the fridge, pouring the amber liquid into two glass cups. “Ah, she said she had some last minute things to do for work. Y’know, Big Hit always wants a big hit.” 

He chuckles, tilting his head as Jisoo gives him a small smile from the kitchen table. Jisoo is always good at cheesy jokes. “She must love her job, huh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Her articles are really good, too,” the air smells like butter and Italian seasoning, as he places one hash brown on Jisoo’s plate, and two on his. He knows you edit in the Arts & Media section, and loves how you make it a point to include video games and modern graphics when it’s deemed appropriate. “She did a piece on the evolution of RPG and I thought her commentary was really spot-on.” 

He brings breakfast over to the table, while Jisoo places two slices of toast on his plate, one buttered and one with strawberry preserves. Breakfast is a quiet, but peaceful affair. Jungkook takes note of how Jisoo takes extra long to complete her meal, her fork creating ribbons in her little blob of magenta jam. He allows himself to complete his first hashbrown and a slice of toast before asking the difficult question. 

“Are you and y/n okay?” and he also takes note when Jisoo’s ministrations on her jelly stop, as she looks up at him with her big brown eyes. 

“We’re fine,” she insists, “just normal roommate issues, I promise.” 

“Maybe I should text y/n,” Jungkook says, pulling out his phone. “Lemme help you fix this, wouldn’t want you and her in a bad place when you’re about to move out.” 

“Baby, why are you so concerned about y/n?” Jisoo croons while his thumb hovers over your contact, his screen showing a two-year old selfie you two took during a study session early on in your friendship. He can’t remember the last time you two took a picture together out of spite, one without Jisoo. Jisoo’s hand pulls him away from his phone, rubbing small circles between his palm. 

He wants to ask, why aren’t you? But he sees the terseness in Jisoo’s smile, as her eyes fix between the interlocked fingers. He has a feeling he’s hovering somewhere he isn’t allowed to be in. Maybe it really is roommate stuff and it’s none of his business, but he feels a little insulted being left out because you and Jungkook are just as much best friends as you were in college. 

Or are you? 

This question plagues him throughout the day, and when Jungkook packs enough boxes for the weekend and says he needs to go home, Jisoo for once doesn’t argue. Normally Jisoo would cling to him like a koala, murmur simultaneously adorable and dirty things in his ear and lead him to her bedroom to coop up for hours on end. But Jisoo says she’s tired and needs some alone time, which is also fine. 

He doesn’t feel like going home, and instead heads straight to the gym. A couple pumps wouldn’t hurt, and it would clear his head. It’s nearly five in the evening when his body is thrumming with the afterglow of his post-workout, and he decides to take a little cool down in the mall and treat himself to a smoothie. 

It must be kismet when he sees you coming out of the bookstore, looking a little winded but no less professional in your beige blazer set and rose gold iPad. Whenever he hung around your apartment with Jisoo and you’d come home from work, he’d make it a point to acknowledge your plethora of multicolored skirt-suits. He never needs to be professional in his place of work, and admires how much effort you put in. 

“Hey!” he jogs up to you, and he catches the way your shoulders jump at his voice. “We missed you today.”

Your smile curls into something dry, and you twist your spine like rusty hinges to face him. In turn, his smile dims a little, wondering if he’s doing something wrong. Maybe you’re tired? He catches the line of sweat that glistens your baby hairs, and how your hair is done up but has fallen a few centimeters with some pieces falling out. 

“Jungkook,” you exhale, “lifting boxes wasn’t enough of a workout?” 

“You know me,” he replies stiffly, hiking his backpack higher upon his shoulder. Why does this conversation feel so awkward? “So, finishing up work? Sucks you have to work on a Sunday.” 

“Ah, it wasn’t so bad,” you face relaxes a little as you explain your work, “it was children’s day at the bookstore and they were watching Disney movies. I’m writing a piece on how I believe Ratatouille is Pixar’s magnum opus. Interviewed some kids, I wanted an expert opinion.”  

“Ratatouille is the superior film,” he declares with a firm nod, “after all, anyone can cook.” He revels in the small smile he manages to retrieve from you, immediately understanding the inside joke. If he came out of the gym five minutes earlier, he probably would’ve been able to catch you in the bookstore. What a shame, he would’ve loved to see you play around with the kids. 

At the mention of food, the mall manages to silence itself enough for him to catch the grumbling coming from your stomach. He laughs when your cheeks heat. 

“I was on my way to get some smoothies,” he jabs a thumb in the direction of the food court, “wanna catch up and get a bite?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, I have a lot of work to edit,” disappointment pangs in his chest at your easy rejection, but he ignores it, “I kinda wanna save some money too, still not sure if I’m staying in the apartment after Jisoo moves.” 

He doesn’t know what compels him to take your shoulders and wheel you in the direction of the food court, much to your protest and whines. “C’mon, explain to me why Ratatouille is the magnum opus—I need to defend why The Incredibles is superior. I’ll treat you to dinner.” 

“What? I can pay for my own food—” 

“And I can’t treat my best friend to a nice meal once in a while?” 

That has you stopping in your tracks, and Jungkook nearly barrels his chest into your head if not for the grippy soles of his Adidas Ultraboosts. He can’t see your face, but his hands note how your muscles cord tightly between the cotton of your blazer. 

He doesn’t understand why you’re so tense. Was it because he called you his best friend? Well, you are? At one point he felt that way, early on in college. The position just stuck with you. And when Jisoo told him you weren’t interested, he was perfectly fine with the platonic relationship. It was nice to have someone to talk media and video games to, someone not as chaotic as Jimin and someone not as deterred as Yoongi. 

Although, maybe as of late he hasn’t been so much of a friend. It’s no one’s fault, he’s been caught up with work and Jisoo’s move, he hasn’t said so much as a “hey how are you” when you’re around. He can’t blame you. 

Suddenly his mind blanks, the mall fading away as he focuses on how small you look as your eyes dart between the parking lot and the food court. Jisoo and Jungkook have been so caught up on each other lately, that he fears you’re starting to separate yourself.

“Um, this place is good,” you tug him by the elbow and lead him to a fast food joint. 

When he picks up both your orders and comes over to your saved table, you’re talking animatedly on the phone. You’re laughing, looking at Jungkook as if he’s the one intruding and you’re muttering a hushed “sorry” as you continue the tail end of the conversation. 

“Yes, Joonie. Go with section two, I know my shit. I’m your Work Wife for a reason, Umji in PR could never compare,” you’re giggling like you’re five years younger, and Jungkook feels stuck in a timelapse. 

He watches you go, throwing around names and terms that he’s so lost on but so desperate to understand. He knows nothing about your life other than the one that’s tied with Jisoo, which is a damn shame. Since when did he inevitably downgrade you from “best friend” to “his girlfriend’s roommate?” 

“I’m sorry,” you turn your phone over and push it to the side, giving Jungkook a smile as well, albeit weaker, “let’s dig in!” 

To his relief the dinner goes as good as it should be. You have your tray practically overflowing at the seams, all on Jungkook’s dime. It has his heart swelling with pride, he hasn’t seen you eat in a long time. There’s fries spilling out from the corners, and two sandwiches because you couldn’t decide between a chicken sandwich and a burger. 

Food gets you amicable, and he doesn’t mind when he does most of the talking. You’re engrossed in his talk, lettuce hanging out of your mouth as you’re rapt with attention as he recalls a story that happened at work recently with Mingyu. You ask questions in all the right places and he sucks up all your attention like a happy pill, and it feels nice to be able to lead a conversation for once. 

“Jeez, I’m getting the burger sweats,” you giggle to yourself, and his smile brightens at your positive change in attitude. Food always helps. 

When you remove your thick high-collar blazer, that’s when he sees it. 

“Seeing someone?” he asks, eyes flickering curiously towards the violet bruises that bloom across your neck. 

“What–oh,” you have the audacity to look embarrassed, hands clutching your neck like a shield, “no, just a hookup.” 

A messy hookup, too. Unless you had a thing for showing off marks, which doesn’t seem to be the case. “Didn’t peg you for someone who hooks up,” he says more to himself than you, but you catch him on his impulse jab. 

Your eyes narrow and your defenses go up, “I’m trying to get over someone,” you snip back, busying your hands by crushing up your greasy sandwich wrappers. 

“Am I allowed to state my opinion?” 

“Since you asked so politely, no.” 

He sighs, “I just don’t think that’s the best way to get over someone,” heck, Jungkook doesn’t even know who exactly you’re trying to get over. He just knows that you’re far too smart and independent to let yourself resort to such matters. 

“It isn’t, but it’s really the best option as of now,” you reply curtly. 

And his gaze saddens as he sees you fold your blazer over your arm, indicating that your time is up. Jungkook is aware the comment he made is out of line, and it weakens him knowing that you don’t even want to pick a fight with him. He can’t even find it in himself to apologize properly. 

He doesn’t know if he’s more sad that you’re pining over someone unattainable or upset at himself for not knowing you’ve been harboring feelings for someone. If you really think hooking up is your only option, you must be really hung about whoever you’re into as of late. 

“If it’s worth anything,” Jungkook adds, wanting to leave on a high note, “fuck that guy. He clearly doesn’t deserve you.” 

A small, secret smile plays on your lips, “Yeah, I like to believe that.” 

“I’m anxious,” Namjoon’s mantra makes the whole energy in the room wobbly, paired with the fact the two of you are squished between cardboard boxes as Jungkook aimlessly moves things around like a Tetris screen. 

The only time you feel remotely comfortable basking in your home is when Jisoo is gone. Oh-so conveniently is the Big Hit building undergoing maintenance today, so you and Namjoon have decided to work from home in your apartment. Although you thought by now that Jisoo’s boxes would be long gone and tucked away in Jungkook’s place, instead you’re living in an episode of Ed, Edd and Eddy and the cardboard is practically wall-to-wall. You also thought by now that Jungkook would have no reason to show up unannounced anymore, but apparently that’s not the case. 

“I have, anxiety,” Namjoon adjusts his glasses for the nth time this afternoon, brain not fixed enough to focus on the screen of his chrome MacBook, “anxiety, anxiety. I can’t right now. I need my weighted blanket and a pillow.” 

“Namjoon, I can get both of those for you if we just send in this last spread,” you coo gently, as if placating a baby. You make brief eye contact with Jungkook from the other side of the room, his lips quirking in amusement as he stacks a box of clothes by the kitchen. 

“Do you feel my palms? My palms, they’re like a fucking fountain you need to feel them—” your Wusband approaches you like a zombie, leaning over you and tripping over his criss-crossed legs before he topples over you. 

“Blegh, get off of me you sweat giant!” you cry with a good-natured laugh, although the grip of Namjoon’s palms under your shoulders are damp and slimy, “Joon, I can’t get you your blanket if you’re crushing my boobs.” 

Namjoon finally relents, untacking himself to rest his chin on your glass coffee table. “Fine.” 

“Look over the last column and I’ll bring your blanket, okay?” 

Pushing yourself off the ground, you shuffle your way out of the living room through the maze of boxes and into the hallway. It feels like your apartment is less of an apartment and more of a storage space when you’re trapped in-between two lines of boxes, and Jungkook effectively blocking you from entering your room. He was just in the living room but now he’s come from the linen closet, standing between the entrance of your room. 

“Sorry,” he pops his head out from a smaller box, one filled with designer costume jewelry. 

“It’s fine,” you chirp, barely making eye contact as you shuffle over the boxes. 

Your toe drags over the lid of one of the open boxes in an attempt to move diagonally. You nearly crash your face into the hardwood if not for Jungkook’s arm stretching out to catch you. In seconds he manages to catch all your weight in one hand, pulling you to him with your hip pressed against his. Your breath traps itself in your neck. Your subconscious fears that if you speak now, you’ll babble about how attractive it is that he’s able to catch you as easily as grabbing a light sheet of paper. 

“Careful,” his voice rumbles in his throat as he regards you with a wan smile. 

Your “thanks” is barely uttered as you slip into your room, heaving your weighted blanket and a pillow in your arms to let Namjoon borrow. 

The burgundy quilted fabric is hunched over your shoulder, draped around your body so it’s easier for you to carry on your back. You try to eradicate the memory of Jungkook’s arms, lean and strong as he held you to him moments before.

Ugh, you thought messing around with Vernon would stop your silly pining. It seems that it’ll take more than a couple rounds to satiate your curiosity. For such a kind guy, Jungkook seems like a wolf in sheep’s clothing when it comes to the bedroom. 

You can imagine him being so kind in the beginning, coaxing you to wan and bend to his every wish and command. And then when you keen a little too hard at the attention, you bet a switch would flip and he’d grab you—

The blanket flops around your back, and you’re sorely reminded that you’re thirsting over a taken man, yet again.  

Jungkook makes it extremely difficult for him to be hateable. It’s by nature that he’s just so damn likeable. Heck, he’s pretty much packed seventy percent of the things Jisoo should be packing right now. 

Making sure not to trip again, on your feelings and your blanket, you successfully reach a tired Namjoon. You tuck your koala-shaped pillow under your co-editor’s arms, and drape the heavy blanket over him like a cape. He’s giving you a thumbs up and a toothless smile, the previous meltdown overcome as he focuses on finishing the last of today’s work. He’s slipped on some noise-cancelling earphones, presumably filled with generic coffee-house music or rain playlists. 

Wordlessly you go to your nook to prepare some tea. It’s getting late and a warm cup would distract you from the impending deadline. Despite the fact that you and Namjoon are 99% of the way done, his previous freak-out has you on live-wire and you could use a little caffeine. 

Placing three mugs on the counter you call, “Jungkook, tea?” 

“Yes please,” you stiffen when you feel Jungkook magically appear right behind you, his head peering over your shoulder, “with milk and honey.” 

Deciding to give Jungkook the beehive-shaped mug because it’s very on-brand for him, you begin to steep the leaves in your kettle while he spoons the honey. 

“So,” his words are slow as the drip of honey, the amber goo taking its time to descend into his mug as it falls from the dipper. “Is that the guy you’re trying to get over?” 

Jungkook lifts his brows towards Namjoon, who is softcore jamming to his white noise playlist. It’s cute as to how curious Jungkook is about Namjoon. While you try to keep your work life separate, there really isn’t much backstory to your personal life to warrant that kind of divide. 

“Namjoon,” you state aloud, watching Namjoon sing badly to himself, “why, are you gonna beat him up for me?” 

“I can take him,” you can practically hear Jungkook’s chest pop out. 

With a roll of your eyes, you reach to kill the heat off the tea kettle, “No need. He isn’t the guy I’m trying to get over.” 

“Oh, he’s your fuck buddy then?” 

“Shit!” being caught off guard, you grab at the handle of your kettle without a pot holder, burning your fingertips. In seconds Jungkook’s larger hand encases your own, pulling you over to the sink to soak your fingers in cool running water.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jungkook is chanting like a sinner at church, searching for any sign of pain in your visage, “I shouldn’t have asked while you’re working with a hot stove.” 

You suppress a sigh, relaxing your fingers as Jungkook soothes the burn with his gentle hold, “Shouldn’t have asked in the first place,” you mumble. 

“I know,” he replies, “guess I’m just feeling a little left out. We don’t talk like we used to. I guess I’m getting a little too nosy for my own good, aren’t I?” 

You don’t understand what’s going on with his incessant babbling as of late, but you chalk it up to work stress and Jisoo’s move. Having no answers to his honest reply, you gently untack your red palm from his grip, assuring him that you’re fine. 

Namjoon steps into your kitchenette, being surprisingly careful as he takes your potholder to pour himself a cup of tea. If the tea is oversteeped and bitter he doesn’t say anything, only leans against the counter as he regards you two with slow sips. “You alright?” 

“M’fine,” you reply stubbornly, avoiding Jungkook’s worried stare. 

Namjoon holds out his hand, “Hand.” 

“No—”

“Hand.” 

His deep voice coerces you, and you immediately slap the back of your palm onto Namjoon’s. Your partner brushes his golden hands over the tiny blister that’s forming over your fingertips. “Can’t have my Work Wife outta commission.” 

“Your Work Wife is fine,” you gripe back. 

Your co-worker’s eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s for a brief second, Jungkook regarding him in curiosity as he stares at your connected palms. “I have some aloe in my bag for sunburns,” Namjoon offers helpfully, ignoring the weird glances, “I’ll give it to you in a bit. Also, I’ve overcome my sudden bout of stress and I’m ready to email our progress to Victoria. We’re done for the day.” 

“Awesome, thanks Joonie,” you exhale, relaxing against the sink, “wanna go eat somewhere?” 

“There’s a niche place in Itaewon if you wanna check it out?” Namjoon offers.

Jungkook interjects, “Jisoo ordered pizza if you guys wanna share with us?” 

“Pizza also sounds good—” 

“We don’t wanna interrupt your alone time,” you gracefully cut in, stepping in front of Namjoon despite the fact that he’s easily towering over you. 

Jungkook snorts, “I’ll have enough alone time with her when she moves in, don’t worry. Besides, I ordered three pies because I wanted to try three different flavor combos. I need two additional judges.” 

“Thanks Jungkook but,” you stifle a cry when Namjoon jabs you in the back with his thumb. It’s pressing, digging into the small of your back as if he’s trying to telepathically tell you that you’re being rude, “but… I don’t know if I can eat three slices! Namjoon on the other hand, can probably eat enough to fairly judge.” 

“Great,” Jungkook’s smile is blinding, causing your grin to stiffen as he looks for his phone to shoot Jisoo a quick text that they’re having dinner for four. 

Once Jungkook’s out of earshot, Namjoon tugs you by the sleeve, “The hell was that?” he hisses in your ear, “you look like you’re about to shit and piss your pants at the same time.” 

“I just don’t feel comfortable eating with them,” you cross your arms in defiance. You think back to just a week ago where you and Jisoo reluctantly attempted to eat breakfast together one morning. You provided minimal small talk while Jisoo clinged to her phone, replying to you in non-committal clipped tones. 

“Do I want to know?”

“No.” 

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” you retort, “you got me into this mess, you’re gonna stay with me ‘till the end.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, woman,” Namjoon throws his arms out exasperatedly, oolong tea nearly sloshing onto his hand, “just suck it up or I revoke your bragging rights to that snag you got on our spread next Monday.” 

“Not my fault you couldn’t get Kim Taeyeon on the spread,” you smirk. 

“Well I didn’t so happen to stalk the Sephora she frequents for the past two weeks—” 

“I didn’t stalk her I just so happened to need a new Fenty Gloss Bomb every other day—”

“I’m home, Jungkookie!” 

Your face contorts, your playful energy melting to the hardwood as your previous banter with Namjoon evaporates into thin air. Work bags in one hand and three boxes of pizza balancing in the other, Jisoo kicks off her heels somewhere across the door and places the pizza on the dining table. 

Jungkook immediately appears by her side, and you look away and Jisoo plants a heavy kiss on his lips. She cracks open one eye as she notices you and Namjoon hanging by the kitchenette, “Oh,” she mumbles at her audience, “you’re here?” 

Yes, you bimbo. I’m here in my own apartment. 

“I guess you didn’t read my text that they’ll be joining us for dinner,” Jungkook cuts in good-naturedly, “we have way too much pizza anyway. Have a seat, guys.” 

Jungkook navigates the kitchen as easily as your own, and you slump in your chair while Namjoon exchanges pleasantries with Jisoo. She looks impeccable, hair in a tight chignon and a tight navy dress as she converses with your co-editor. 

“I’m starving,” Jungkook announces, making sure to place a slice on Jisoo’s plate. He shuffles through the other boxes, making brief eye contact with you when he decides to put a slice on yours as well, “you like these toppings, right?” 

You regard the greasy, hearty piece of cheese and bread with a curt nod. You feel Jisoo’s eyes laser on your skin, “Yeah, thanks Kook.” 

Namjoon, Jisoo and Jungkook mostly stir up the conversation, you opting to eat as slow as possible to avoid any conversation. It’s easy to blend back and let them take over, as Jisoo loves to talk about her fashion firm and Namjoon is a great listener. 

Jungkook and Namjoon make it a point to direct the conversation to you from time to time, and you let the ball leave your court as soon as it lands. You prefer to keep your responses short and simple, especially when Jisoo is so eager to talk about the new silk drapes she’s installing for Jungkook’s windows.

Your phone buzzes in your lap, and you discreetly look under the table to read the incoming text message. 

vernie bernie: would u like to do the devil’s dance tonight

vernie bernie: or a tickle to my pickle? 

vernie bernie: beatin ya bean? 

You: ohmyGOD 

vernie bernie: or y’know, u could just come ovr and chill. Hobi made some bomb tres leches

You: call. Ill come after dinner

“Are you okay, y/n?” your head bounces up to meet Jungkook’s gaze, “you’ve barely eaten and you haven’t talked much.” 

“Oh you know, she’s just stressed about the upcoming spread,” Namjoon steps in for you, and you send him a discrete, but grateful smile. He’s always impeccable at reading the room, “she’s just nervous about her interview with Kim Taeyeon, but I think you did her interview justice.” 

“No way, the singer Kim Taeyeon?” Jungkook gushes, regarding you with stars in his eyes, “your interviews are always so great, y/n. You ask really good questions. Like that one spread about  Lee Yonghwa’s art gallery? Really cool.” 

You notice the way Jisoo presses her lips together, a thin line as if she’s trying to seal away words that she’ll regret saying. She’s jealous, and you can’t help the blush of pride that fills your veins as you raise a secret brow at her. 

“Right, you got nothing to worry about,” Namjoon squeezes your shoulder encouragingly, as if you’d get his double-meaning. 

“Thanks,” you reply, pushing your plate away and standing up, “I’m actually gonna go head to Vernon’s for a bit, though. He wants to double check his work before we email Victoria.” 

It’s a bald-faced lie, Namjoon sent the files to Victoria right before dinner, but he isn’t going to argue. 

“Okay,” Namjoon thanks Jungkook and Jisoo for the meal, stacking his plate atop yours, “I’ll walk out with you.” 

“It’s only been twenty minutes, though,” you see the slight panic in Jungkook’s gaze as he watches you quickly clean up for you and Namjoon. You can’t quite pin why he’s so concerned, after all he has been acting strange as of late. 

“Yeah, I’m full,” you reply curtly, licking your lips and avoiding his gaze. You already know what he wants to say, that he’s been in your apartment all day and all he’s seen you eat is stale chips and tea, “but we can do this again.” But hopefully not. 

“If you’re coming home late again,” it’s the first time Jisoo has spoken to you directly. You tilt your head to her slowly, watching the plastic smile carefully carved onto her expression. You see the contrived care and concern between her brows, “please try to be quieter next time, the last time you came home late you woke Jungkookie up.” 

Snapping your gaze to Jungkook you plaster on a thick smile, “Sorry Jungkook—” 

“What? No, it’s fine!” he furrows his brows in confusion, finally able to detect the strange tension between the two housemates, “I barely heard you—” 

“Maybe I’ll just stay the night at Vernon’s,” your eyes trail over to the pajama set you immediately switched into when you got home today, “wouldn’t want to disturb you two.” 

“Good,” Jisoo’s tone is saccharine and clipped as she tacks on a, “have fun.” 

It’s laudable, how much Jisoo wants to make a fool out of you but you won’t have it. You revel in the perplexed expression as Jungkook’s gaze darts back and forth between the two of you, wanting to butt in but unsure of how to approach it. Not giving him the time to, you bid the couple a goodnight and make a fast getaway. Heck, you don’t even take your work stuff with you. 

Once you’re out the door, Namjoon wordlessly gives you a hug. You sigh gratefully into his embrace. 

The next time Jungkook sees you, he reads the room before anything. You and Jisoo’s apartment is scarily empty, almost clinical. He’s tried texting you a few times after his failed-not-failed attempt at catching up at the mall and his awkward conversation concerning Namjoon, but you always reply back with vague replies and an unpromised promise of meeting up sometime soon. 

It dulls him to think that you’ve given up on him as a friend. But can you blame him? He needs to keep an appropriate distance for Jisoo, after all, she doesn’t like it when he gets too close to other women unless it’s strictly professional. Usually Jisoo’s jealousy inevitably works itself out and Jungkook doesn’t pose any problems because he has very few girl friends, but for some reason your friendship with him specifically gets Jisoo stiff in the face. Is it because you and Jisoo are so close? Possibly. 

But it doesn’t mean you can’t join the same Valorant server with him at 2AM and accidentally bomb each other, or argue over the magnum opus of each film company. Is that not enough? 

Jisoo’s working overtime, and Jungkook suggested last night that he move the boxes to the front of the door for easy pick-up when the moving truck arrives. Jisoo promises to buy Thai food in return, and with a kiss emoji she leaves him to audit fabric budgets. 

As he glides down to Jisoo’s room he notes that the pictures along the wall have disappeared, and there’s double the amount of boxes in the hallway. It seems that you’re moving out too. To where, he doesn’t know but he hopes it isn’t too far. 

He chides Jisoo remotely when he sees that her room is completely intact, and he makes moves to pack up her things. 

That’s when he finds his letter. Not a love letter to Jisoo, but a love letter to you. Deep in the recesses of Jisoo’s junk drawer, is a faded lavender envelope with a pressed cream colored baby’s breath taped up in plastic. The glue is yellow and old, clearly served its purpose due to the fact that the letter is already opened and the contents rumpled. 

Hey Pretty Girl–

He immediately stuffs the letter back in its holder, stricken at his messy handwriting from two years ago. It feels like he found a time capsule, another version of Jungkook confessing to you. He used to call you Pretty Girl, not enough for you to catch on to his feelings, but enough for you to understand that he did find you attractive. It was early on in your friendship. 

When you first asked him to be study partners for some silly class that had nothing to do with each other’s majors, he gaped like a guppy and pointed to himself. That day he went to class in last night’s clothes and a nest of fluffy strands. “Me?” he felt like absolute trash, and you were probably desperate due to the fact you two were the only seniors in this class, “but you’re a pretty girl… and I’m pretty dumb when it comes to this subject.” 

But instead you scoffed and pulled him from his slumped figure, dragging him to the library, with a wink and a “you’re pretty, too.” Those words have burned in his brain since then, as he wasn’t used to getting such off-handed compliments, especially from intelligent girls that wanted more than one night. 

For whatever reason you continued seeing his dumb self, even after the semester ended and together registered for one more class for spring. 

Whenever you’d go out for ice cream you wouldn’t hesitate to stuff your face and add for extra Oreos and fries, you’d assure Jungkook you’re not normally this much of a slob. 

Jungkook would just smile and offer you a napkin and say, “You’re still a pretty girl.” 

He fell for you gracefully. There was no regret, no walk of shame, no cliché late night party where you or him could’ve instigated it into the physical. It was all by feel. 

However the two of you took your time with your relationship, languidly enjoying the hushed conversations in the library at 2AM, the late night McFlurry runs, the integration of each other’s friends like it was natural. Ergo the lavender love letter. It was a gentle declaration, one he felt pretty confident in. 

So color him stupid when you passed him in class with a happy wave, Jungkook dumbfounded at how well you handled his confession. You weren’t oblivious, you just never read it. 

But now he knows the declaration was for whatever reason, lost in transit. “I should’ve known,” he whispers in the air, the letter crumpling in his grip. Composing himself, he pinches his brows.  

There’s an electronic buzz and a sharp slam of the front door. Judging by the time, you’re home. 

You flop onto your mattress, folding an arm over your head to stop the sun from seeping to your eyes. Vernon’s exhausted you, and you barely got away before he could have any say in it. You need a little space, and some time to think. 

Just as you close the door to your bedroom, it swings open. 

You gape as Jungkook thrusts himself into your bedroom like a deer with horns, looking pale. You follow his gaze, darkened eyes that linger a little too long on your neck again, and you narrow your eyes at him to avert. He looks a little red in the cheeks despite his pallidness, looking like he just got out of bed with messy wavy locks and his signature sweats. Is Jungkook packing for Jisoo again? 

Acutely aware that you smell like sweat and sex, you clutch the blankets closer to your body. “Uh, rude.” 

He looks uncharastically frantic, waving a letter in his hand, “Did you ever read this?” 

“Read what?” you ask, hands reaching out for the envelope. 

“My confession letter,” he blurts, having no shame now that all the gears are running through his head. “I wrote you a letter asking you out, because you said you wanted to collect notes like in Letters to Juliet. But I just found it in Jisoo’s drawer, why would it be there?” 

And all the pent up frustration that never seemed to escape under Vernon’s sheets, the feelings that never seem to subside, all bubble back to the surface. Now that Jungkook knows, there’s no hiding. 

You’re in shock, hands reaching for the letter despite the burn that seeps through your fingertips. Jungkook’s shoulders slump when you do indeed look like it’s your first time seeing this, as if a missing puzzle piece in your timeline has finally been revealed.

“I, I didn’t think you’d write me a letter,” you take the lavender envelope, clutching the letter by your chest like it’s something precious, “that’s so sweet,” you say to yourself.  

It dawns on him, “Wait, you knew about this? I knew something weird was going on.” 

“Only recently,” you frown. 

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” he nearly shouts, causing you to flinch, “no wonder why you were being so weird all this time. How could you let me live the rest of my life knowing this? That my relationship is built on a lie? ” 

“I don’t know,” you suddenly feel very small in your mattress as Jungkook rounds up on you, pulling your desk chair closer to your bed, “because you love Jisoo, of course.” 

“Well obviously that’s not possible,” and while yes a two-year realtionship ending like this is going to hit him hard tonight, he’s focused on you and the fact that you failed to tell him, “somehow I’d find out. Why wait for me to find out on my own?” 

“Because I wanted to protect you!” 

“Protect me,” he scoffs, crossing his arms and sneering at you. It causes you to tense up, feeling the telltale signs of tears bubbling to the surface, “you don’t even want to be friends anymore, y/n. I’ve tried to catch up to you so many times, but you keep leaving me hanging. I know I’ve been a pretty bad friend and I get it if you just feel awkward that I liked you, then that’s a shitty reason.” 

“Have you ever considered that it’s too late to tell you?” you shoot back, sitting up straight, “yes, I admit I should’ve told you earlier and I’m sorry, but it was a lot for me to process to y’know? Jisoo and I haven’t talked properly in weeks!” 

“Oh, so you’ve stopped trying to be friends with Jisoo too, huh? Just like you’re trying to stop being friends with me.” 

“No,” you pinch your brows, “she stopped being friends with me! She doesn’t care about me because she has you,” conflict burns in Jungkook’s gaze, and you only serve to fuel the fire, “she’s tried so hard to not involve me in your relationship.” 

“Just tell me why you’ve really kept this secret instead of saying you want to protect me like a baby—” 

“It’s because I’m in love with you, idiot!” 

You blink and back up against the wall of your bedroom, as if you can’t believe that the words came out of your mouth. 

It’s quiet again. The sour look evaporates from Jungkook’s face as he watches you suppress your sobs on your mattress. The room seems devoid, sucked out of its color as you’ve cleaned up most of your things, the only thing left being some plain grey sheets and a pillow. 

Jungkook’s mind is absolutely reeling, playing back memories from a different point of view. 

“When Jisoo told me she sabotaged our relationship so she could date you, I was so upset and didn’t know what to think,” you manage to place the lavender note on your wooden desk, making sure no tears could mar it. “And I thought I could move on and eventually stay friends with the both of you, but the next day Jisoo put all her attention on you and completely ignored me or any attempt to salvage our friendship. She only told me to forgive herself,” you’re hugging yourself, wrapping the blankets around you like a weak embrace, “so I thought if I cut myself out of the picture and forced myself to move on like I should’ve, everything would’ve been okay.” 

“So, you would’ve rather kept all this pain to yourself?” 

“Yeah,” you give him a teary smile, “because I wanted you to be happy.” 

And with an equally sad smile he murmurs, “But I’m not happy.” 

 Your face falls, and you really look at Jungkook. He’s exhausted as well, slumped in his chair. Has he been trying to grapple along the threads of his relationships, while you’ve been trying to loosen them? 

“What a waste of two years,” he slumps in your chair, letting the pieces click into place, “a relationship built on fake love. I was really trying, y’know. I thought I was going crazy.” 

The three of you have unknowingly been playing a futile game of Cat’s Cradle, a game that no one wins. 

Jungkook looks wistfully out the window, noting the pleasant day that fails to present itself in your tiny room. It feels simultaneously satisfying and bitter when it falls into place, your thoughts finally fitting together for the first time in months. “We could’ve loved each other. For real,” he says, and you silently agree. 

You’re still crying, shaking like a leaf in autumn. Jungkook’s arms hover awkwardly over yours, his warmth palpable despite the fact that he hasn’t touched you yet. With a timid smile you allow consent, and you melt like putty in his arms. 

“Kookie, ‘m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you murmur into his shoulder, not caring if it hurts when you press your chin into his skin. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” 

It’s been so long to have him close like this, the friend you’ve always wanted but never needed. Since college you’ve always imagined a life without him doing just fine, but that doesn’t mean you want to live without him, roommate’s boyfriend or not. 

“I’m sorry too,” he sighs back, “this sucks right now, but we’ll be alright.” 

The two of you sit in your room until it turns dark and the sky muddles into shades of twilight and egg yolk orange. There’s lulls in the conversation, the two of you filling in the gaps and making sense of the mumbo-jumbo that’s been going on in your consciousness up until this point. Your insantities turn sane, and by the time Jisoo’s making her way back inside with the smell of pad thai, Jungkook is ready. With a squeeze to each other and a press of your lips because you don’t know what to say, you tuck yourself in and pretend to fall asleep. 

“Messy, messy, messy,” Vernon sing-songs, knocking his heels against the wall. 

The both of you are sitting upside-down, butts attached to the wall connecting to his mattress and your feet hanging in the air. Your mint floral organza socks pad against his Pink Floyd poster, while his yellow tube socks are heeling against some old Polaroids from college. There’s no prospect of sex today, not when shit just hit the fan. 

Today you and Vernon are just two old friends and very close co-workers. 

“Tell me about it,” you bemoan, frowning at the beige wall, “this whole week’s just been a whole mess. It’s like, warm tuna salad.”

“Gross,” Vernon grimaces at the apt comparison, “so what happens now?” 

You sit up on your elbows, looking down at Vernon’s peaceful expression, “What do you mean?” 

“Like, are you gonna get together with him?”

You snort, flopping back down on his bed. The blankets fluff around you and you inhale the pine scented sheets. “After all that? No.” 

“But you still love him?” 

It must sound dumb to still love him after all this time. You wouldn’t be surprised if Vernon thought you’re silly to still hold a place in your heart for someone who has fifteen million things on their plate now. After all the physicality and the space Vernon gave you in his home, your feelings haven’t wavered. 

Your companion doesn’t bother waiting for your answer, hearing your answer somewhere in the air as he gets up and throws on his denim jacket. Rolling over your stomach you ask, “Where are you going?” 

“Some friends down in printing want to meet up for drinks,” Vernon messes up his hair, making the waves part in that little coiff that makes his jawline look sharp. “I heard Yerin really wanted me to come, so.” 

You can’t help the little middle school coo that comes from your lips, causing Vernon to giggle and throw a pillow at you. “Yerin’s cute!” you declare, remembering the petite girl in overalls who’s all about pops of yellow and violet, “you're into her?” 

“Nah,” Vernon holds up two hats in his hands, gesturing for you to pick one. “Just figured it was a push in the right direction.” 

Crawling out of his bed you stumble in your oversized t-shirt, tucking a finger under your chin as you decide between the emerald bucket hat and the red Ralph Lauren baseball cap. You pull out both hats from his hands and set it down on his vanity, opting to smooth out the flyaways and ringing your fingers through his soft curls. “And what direction would my free-flowing friend be going today?” you ask aloud, “you look better with your hair out,” you declare firmly, “makes you look like a fluffy CEO.” 

He laughs at your silly comparison, and he gently moves your hand away from his hair when you linger a little too close to him. His gaze is solemn as he regards you with a gentle smile, “Keep your distance, I’m tryna get over someone,” he says simply, and your arm falls limp at your sides. 

Your heart thuds in a different direction, your mouth parting but no words coming to the surface. When was the last time you asked about Vernon’s needs, wondered if he was doing alright, making sure you two were on the same page—

“You’re spiraling,” he reads you like a playbook, smoothing down your hair to press a kiss to the crown. Suddenly you feel guilty for not having sparks in your belly, shaming your conscience for not even considering his sacrifices in your self-absorption these past few weeks. “Like I said, I wanted to help you. Stop looking like a kicked puppy, it’s okay to be selfish.” 

With transparent tears the two of you pack up and head to your next destination. Hands ghosting between each other you make your way to the exit of Vernon’s apartment, him to meet up with his friends while you have to unpack your new apartment. With a hug you tell each other you’ll see them on Monday, and as easy as that you go your separate ways.

Hey Pretty Girl—

I kinda wanted to tell you this in person but I know how much you liked Mamma Mia and all those other movies that have grand gestures in writing so I thought hey, might as well shoot my shot on paper. 

Not gonna tell you all the details, because you deserve to hear it in-person. But mayhaps this letter has something to do with how much I like studying with you, watching movies with you, doing absolutely nothing with you and all of that in-between. 

There’s a gift card to our spot attached. Meet me at McDonalds @12 tonight, so I know it’s real 😎

Hopefully yours, Jungkook

P.S. if you haven’t noticed already, I sprayed a little cologne and stole Taehyung’s fancy paper from Muji. That’s how serious I am about you. 

“Joon, we live in a bonsai garden. We’re like giants in a forest.” 

“Can you—can you stop spitting at them? Let them breathe, dammit.” 

“Not my fault they’re so tiny! I literally have to zoom 200% just to get a good look at ‘em.” 

The two of you are huddled in what used to be Namjoon’s balcony, now a sunroom for his succulents and bonsais. Your heart feels pink and swollen with affection as you regard Namjoon with interest, absorbing every bit of information you can as he teaches you how to care for his plants. After all, you’re co-parenting now. 

Having your Wusband co-sign as your roommate for the next year is probably the best decision you have made this year. Everyday is like a breath of fresh air. With Seokjin gone for the year to tour his restaurant franchises, his room is yours for the taking. The two of you are easy going roommates, filling the apartment with color and vigour whether it be in the form of baking sweets or watching Netflix documentaries. 

The only drama you ever have is when you two are having a meltdown over the same work-related issue, as if you two somehow share the same brain cell. It’s significantly less stressful, no need for unnecessary anger when  you have someone as mediating as Namjoon.

After today’s plant lesson, you two go back to the living room to finish up your work for the evening. Another perk of living together is that you can go home at normal work times and continue where you left off with the comfort of your couch and eating a whole pizza pie with no shame. 

Namjoon’s phone pings with a new email from corporate. “We got the new concept for next month’s spread,” he gestures to you with a grandiose wave of his arm, “drumroll please.” 

He pulls up the newsletter from corporate with a flick of his thumb. Your company put out every month’s concept out in an Evite, like every month was a themed party. A stressful, month long work party. In seconds, the page loaded and you’re met with next month’s title bathed in electronic glitter. 

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth

The two of you say silent, absorbing the concept like a cookie to milk. It’s a personal spread this month, a real treat for the team to show off their normal non-professional life. A spread that reveals the masters behind the ink and text. Last year’s personal spread was about the staff’s vacation destinations, but this year’s is much more intimate. You can imagine all the ideas that will be thrown around on Monday’s meeting: pinning down shared ideas like Throwback Thursdays, late night munchie runs, drunk stories, and all the crazy college nostalgia that you’ve been trying to avoid as of late. 

But now it’s presented to you in a gold chalice, and while you’re sick of the past you think it’s about time to face it. You’re excited to tackle the dark monster you’ve suppressed since Jungkook and Jisoo’s breakup. 

“Did I ever tell you I was president of my university’s Mock Trial?” 

“No, I always thought you’d be president of the Comparative Literature Club or whatever. But Mock Trial is equally as nerdy.” 

“I’ll have you know Mock Trial got me tons of action,” he winked, “made me very convincing.” 

“Gross,” you sneer, “so that’s what your spread will be about? How the co-editor of the Arts & Entertainment section managed to bag with his skills from Mock Trial?” 

“Nah, I went on a penniless journey with Jin during spring break. Six days around Malta.” 

“That does sound so you,” you sigh, fingers slipping between the cracked screen as you mull over the overly happy Evite, “sounds like a cool story.” 

“I know that look,” Namjoon quips, snatching his phone under his nose, “don’t overthink your spread just yet, it’s still the weekend. Now to more important things, what do you want from Taco Bell?”

And because you can’t refuse the combined efforts of nachos and Namjoon’s dimples, you relent for the night and tack the unmade idea to the next workday. 

Unfortunately the next workday is just as disheartening. Today’s work meeting is the antithesis of icing on the cake. While your college life isn’t anything remarkable, you didn’t think it was a painfully dull time. With every passing moment and every excited co-worker throwing memories back and forth like ping pong balls, the more you felt inferior by competing with their amazing memories. 

“Who can even afford Aruba at twenty-one,” you mutter under your breath, stalking back to your cubicle. 

Filling up a whole spread is daunting to you, the thought of Victoria popping her head in your cubicle to ask what you’ve got for the day is practically eating you from the inside out. Maybe your college life was in actuality, super boring? You have no crazy drug trips to tell, any vacations that gave you a life-changing perspective, or an epic love story. 

“What’cha got there, partner?” 

The third musketeer of your editing team’s caramel eyes peer into your cubicle, causing you to jump in your chair. Vernon wheels around, chair and all to push you into your already cramped space. His gold button up gleams in the sunlight, effectively blinding you. 

“If by something you mean nothing, then yeah I got nothing,” you frown, spinning around your chair. “What are you writing about?” 

A fond smile melts onto your friend’s face, and you can’t help returning a smile that mirrors his own. You two have fallen back into a good place, as far as you know. He’s still easy, simple, sweet Vernon. When you dropped some boxes off in coloring, you heard that Vernon and Yerin have recently started seeing each other. 

“Thought of the idea as soon as the Evite came out. It’s more of a photo spread, but I’m gonna write about my study abroad in NYU,” Vernon ticks a pencil on his forehead, “a self-identity piece talking about how I felt like, not-white around my family n’stuff. And then felt not-Asian at the same time, s’complicated but I think I can make it work.” 

“Deep,” you pat his shoulder caringly, knowing that Big Hit is a good outlet for these kinds of subjects, “alright City Slicker, since you’re so full of ideas then tell me what to write about.” 

Vernon sits up straight, regarding you with narrowed eyes, “Aren’t you gonna write about your little love triangle with Jisoo and Jungkook?” and it seems like he’s already storyboarded the idea in his head, gesturing to the air as if he’s writing down a timeline, “I can see the headline now: How to Steal a Heart,” he’s grinning, nodding fervently as you cross your arms in distaste. 

“Vern, are you suggesting that I exploit Jisoo and Jungkook’s personal lives?” while the journalism business didn’t pride itself on sincerity, it did feel wrong to drag in your personal life to that extent. 

“Babe, you don’t understand. You have the perfect slice of life story. Everyone’s writing about expensive vacations and that one time they got cross-faded and ended up in Busan,” he squeezes your hand, “but your story, it’s relatable. It’s romantic. It’s angsty. It has closure. No one’s gonna be able to relate to an impulse spending on daddy’s money to Aruba. But first loves? Unrequited romance and all that ish? Everyone can speak to that. And you’re a beautiful writer, they’ll eat up that story like honey.” 

“I don’t know, it still doesn’t feel right.” 

“Change up the names, twist the story,” he offers easily, knowing you’d put up a fight, “besides, it’s not like you’re planning on talking to Jisoo or Jungkook ever again,” you open your mouth to retort, but Vernon’s phone beeps to the Star Wars theme song and he’s flying out of his chair. “Shoot, gotta go help Joon upstairs. Just think about it, okay? Good luck!” and he’s kicking his chair out with a brown loafer, leaving you with breathing room in your cubicle. 

Five seconds later Vernon is jogging back, pointing a finger at you, “And if you do choose to write it, you have to add that Jisoo copped your McDonalds gift card. Like, who does that shit? Couldn’t she have just given it to you and say it was from her and not Jungkook? Seriously fucked up.” 

For the next ten or so minutes you mull. Out of all the memorable college events you’ve participated in, the largest one by far is your (now defunct and debatable) friendship with Jisoo, and your (un)requited love for Jungkook. Reluctantly, you must admit Vernon has a sharp idea, busting in like a hero and offering you the most writable piece on a silver platter. 

It doesn’t feel morally right just to start writing, because ultimately you can’t feel comfortable until you get the consent of Jungkook. While you don’t want to touch Jisoo with a ten-meter pole, you do want to start talking to Jungkook again now that the waters have calmed.

Your life has moved gracefully up until this point, and you’d like to start being friends with him again. Decision made, you pull out your phone and make an important call.

“Hey Yoongi,” you say nervously. Min Yoongi is Kim Namjoon’s equivalent, Jungkook’s Wusband and former upperclassmen in college. 

Said man hums noncommittally on the other line, “Whaddya want, it’s been awhile.” 

You stifle a giggle at his apathetic attitude, knowing he’s someone who wastes no time in getting straight to the point. “I just wanna make sure Jungkook’s address is still the same? I know it’s been a couple months, but I need to send him something and I wanna make sure it gets to him ASAP because—”

“Because last time something was sent, your crazy roommate intervened and Jungkook ended up in a two-year half-toxic relationship? Yeah, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“Yoongi,” you say slowly, “where are you?” 

“Working in the studio,” he tuts, “Jungkook says hi, by the way.” 

Typical, cat’s out of the bag. With a roll of our eyes you reply, “Thanks for outing me, Yoongi. Talk to you later.” 

“And y/n? Jungkook says he’s waiting.” 

With a stupid smile slapped onto your face, you hang up the phone and pull out your stationary kit from under your desk. You pluck out a vermillion red envelope, a color so bold and begging to be seen, you know it can’t possibly get lost in transit. Feeling a little bit like a high schooler as you pull out a glitter jelly pen, you get to writing. 

Hey Pretty Boy...

Jungkook and Jisoo are no longer together, evidently. 

Their social media runs in different directions, with Jisoo sporting absolute elegance in her work at her family-owned boutique. Her posts are full of shiny outfits and soulless gazes, betraying any pinch of emotion she may have felt over these past few months. Her profile is wiped of any personal posts, all traces of you and Jungkook evaporated from her page. You must admit that she looks good, like a real fashion mogul, but only at the surface level. 

Conversely, Jungkook is thriving. It’s evident. Normally he isn’t the type of guy to post so frequently, his habits being often sporadic and limited to sweaty gym stories. But whenever you scroll, it’s pictures of him smiling. Big bunny teeth broken into a genuine, full-bellied laugh. Cute selfies of him and his co-workers. You notice two familiar co-workers in those posts, Irene and Seulgi, two beautiful women Jisoo always felt intimidated by whenever she ranted to you. You conclude positively that Jungkook doesn’t feel tethered and can hang out with all the friends he wants, female and male alike. Jungkook looks free, and you’re happy for him. 

It’s another Instagram-worthy moment tonight at McDonalds, where you and Jungkook proposed to meet each other at 12AM. 

This time, the letter makes it to its desired destination. You make sure of that because this time you hand-deliver it, slipping under his apartment door knowing he lives alone and no one would be able to access it except him. 

You’re parked in an obscure corner, but you can see that Jungkook is currently having a great time with his co-workers for an after work meal. Yoongi is unbothered on his phone, while Jimin and Seulgi are taking turns throwing fries into each other’s mouth. Jungkook is squished between them, scrunching his nose cutely as he tries not to get in the fray of their fry-war. 

Your phone pings, and you laugh at what pops up on the screen.

Yoongi: come inside, u loser. 

You: can’t ur friend group makes me nervous stop being so dang cute

You: dw i’ll wait, it’s only 11:50

Instead of replying, Yoongi puts his phone down and resumes eating. In turn you pick a playlist, deciding that “summer time high mix✨✨✨” is a theme you need to subscribe to for the rest of the weekend. 

Busying yourself by sending some texts to Namjoon and checking some emails, you relax in your seat as you let your brain turn to sludge for the weekend. You’re tired, eyes glazing over as you watch Yoongi elbow Jungkook harshly, forcing him to look out the foggy window. 

Jungkook’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas Eve, but instead of Christmas lights it's your car’s lowlights. The graphic designer  pays no mind to his friends as they wish him goodbye and goodluck, throwing on his jacket with a wave. 

The night air whizzes by, Jungkook’s floppy black strands bouncing with each step as he bounds to your car. He throws your door open, bringing in the cold air as he regards you as easily as an old friend would. 

“Hi,” he chirps, placing his tattooed palms by the air vent, “c’mon, let’s order.” 

“You know, you could’ve ordered inside and brought it in here.” 

“Yeah but then it would take longer to get to you,” the cheeky grin that Jungkook throws at you is unmistakable, “c’mon, get out the car and let’s switch.” 

“Huh?” 

“You look tired, you didn’t come back from the office again, did you?” 

“I did tonight,” you say, “I just really wanted to get the soft copy of the article done and—” 

“Out, out!” Jungkook clicks your seatbelt off and he’s coming out of the passenger side, opening your car and pulling you out by the hand, “c’mon, I’ll drive.” 

You shake your head, hiding your smile in your hand as you let Jungkook do what he wants. Normally you’d be insulted that anyone suggests they should drive your car but Jungkook would always drive you around, saying he loved long rides. Above all, if you could trust anyone to drive your car, Jungkook is at the top of the list. 

Buckling in, you bite the inside of your cheek as Jungkook easily pulls out of the parking spot one-handed. His jacket is pulled up to his elbows, exposing his veins as he expertly whirls the wheel in the direction of the drive-thru. Since college he’s always looked very attractive driving.  

Doesn’t mean you have to act like you’re still in college. You tamp those feelings down, knowing that your article probably has you feeling stuck in time. 

“—coming along?” 

“Wha?” 

“I said, how’s the spread coming along?” 

“It’s pretty much done, I think. I’ll send you the hard copy when it’s ready,” you tap your fingers against the dashboard, “but are you sure you’re okay with me writing it? I know I’m using a pseudonym and everything for you two but I still feel weird—” 

“It’s fine, I think it’s a good thing,” and you still squirm in your seat when he flashes you a genuine smile, “I mean, it kinda is a funny story and I think it’s good for both of us. Like closure, y’know? Moving on and—hi, can I get two Oreo McFlurrys and a large fry? Thanks!” he pulls out his wallet to scan the total on the e-reader.  “I mean, didn’t it feel good writing it?”

“Yeah,” you replied honestly, relaxing in your seat, “like, college was fun and all, but when Jisoo kinda ruined all that… after awhile I didn’t think it was ruined after all, y’know? I still made amazing friends and ended up where I wanted to be. I want to show the readers that shit happens, and that’s okay. And if things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 

The summer playlist hums in the background as Jungkook pulls up to the pick-up window. He thanks the worker and hands you the tray, and you make quick work to put the fries in the first cup holder for optimal sharing. He doesn’t park at McDonalds, but instead smoothly pulls out of the restaurant into the direction of his apartment. It isn’t a particularly long drive, but you figure it would be easier for Jungkook to go home first if you’re already parked at his complex. 

“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook parks in the driveway of his apartment, taking his McFlurry from your hands. 

“Mean by what?” 

“If things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 

“Well, we’re here now, right?” 

Jungkook pops his spoon in, swallowing vanilla and a silly smile through his coral pink lips, “We’re here now,” he repeats. 

The night air is cool and your conversation is warm. You promise Jungkook that you’ll send him the final copy of your spread as soon as it’s done, and you two eagerly deviate away from the past and focus on the present. 

You can’t help the eagerness that flows between you, as if you’ve never spent time apart like this and it’s only now that you’re reuniting. It must be absence that makes the heart grow fonder, because you swell with affection and you find Jungkook’s presence sweeter than any kind of ice cream. 

Are you dating now? Maybe. You and Jungkook are going on dates, everything without the title. McFlurry runs, marathons of HGTV’s Design on a Dime, having lunch at each other’s respective buildings with the Wusbands. Whether these dates are exclusive or not is unknown, but you figure the question will present yourself one way or another. 

You’re in a good place right now, potential relationship or not. After all, your priorities are simultaneously positive and in order: family, work, friends, and any potential romantic trysts are at the very bottom. You could kiss the cover of this month’s issue (and trust, you have kissed your own copy multiple times) if it is not for the fact that this specific issue is for Jungkook. 

So, romantic trysts and friends have a tendency to flip-flop on your priority list, but only because it’s Jungkook. 

Unsurprisingly, there’s no guilt knowing that you’re dating your former best friend's ex-boyfriend. 

After a much deserved early work day, Namjoon and the crew arrange a hearty happy-hour filled with good food and enough relaxation to last the weekend. With your combined successes, your team felt like they made the best issue yet. At the heart of it, The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth became a reckoning of each other’s young life. Despite the love and the growth that occurred from your college years up until this point, you’re glad to close that chapter and move forward. 

You did not tell Jungkook when the issue would come out, so you think it’ll be a fun surprise for him when he sees it magically show up at his apartment. Bending down you move to slip the issue under his door, one hand pushing it under while one hand braces against the frame to steady your balance. 

Just as the shiny cover glides under the door it swings open, and you fall flat on Jungkook’s feet. 

Being the little shit he is, he simply giggles at the blunder, looking at you with excited eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says. 

“Creepy as hell, Jeon,” you mutter under your breath, brushing the dirt off your aqua pencil skirt. Looking at him from your spot on the floor and his large height, you grimace. “You look like a middle-aged serial killer looking outside your peephole.” 

“Now, we know that’s not true.” he finally offers his hand, easily pulling you up to your feet. You follow him into his kitchen, where he’s cutting up fresh fruit. He throws your issue on the counter, gentle enough so it doesn’t slide off the granite. He gestures to himself with both hands, “me, a dashingly handsome late twenty-something in Nike sweats who can bench-press two of you? Totally not a middle-aged serial killer.” 

“It’s in the eyes,” you chastise, “you look crazy.” 

“Maybe I’m just crazy excited to see you,” he says with a cheeky grin. 

You try your best not to choke on your spit at the cheeseball comment, throwing a blackberry in your mouth. Savoring the burst of tart flavor that fills your mouth, you wait for Jungkook to plate the fruit before meeting him on the couch. He’s holding a prettily arranged plate of berries, bananas, and mango with a huge dollop of whipped cream in the middle. In his other hand is Big Hit’s magazine. 

Throwing your blazer on the couch’s arm you don’t hesitate to cuddle up next to him, eagerly waiting for him to read your spread. 

The cover gazes back at the two of you like a reflection. The entirety of the staff is posed on the cover, made to look like a class photo. Some of you are holding balloons in your respective school colors, many of you grouping up with whoever happened to go to college together. You and Vernon are wearing matching university sweaters with silly grins on your faces. In the middle of the issue is the editor-in-chief, Victoria Song holding a placard that reads: Class of Youth. 

Jungkook spares you a glance from the corner of his eye, your head naturally tucked into his shoulder. With an exaggerated sigh, he fiddles through the glossy pages, “Hmm, which one should I read first?” 

“Of course you’ll read mine first,” you pout. 

“Ah, Namjoon’s looks really fun. Or Vernon’s? New York looks pretty cool,” he flips to a random page, “wait, Yerin’s spread is a Korean cookbook! I definitely want to make some tuna rice...”  

“Jungkook,” you whine, “read mine.” 

“I don’t know,” he taps his finger on his lip, “I mean, I pretty much know your spread because I’m already in it. It would be kind of redundant to read it.” 

“Kook, you’re being mean,” you glower, rubbing your cheek against his soft sweater. He’s just so damn comfy. 

“I’m kidding,” he tugs at your cheek, “where’s the table of contents, first page?”

“I’m on page eighty-three.” 

You speed up the process like an impatient child, leaning over to brush the pages to the desired spread. You even dog-earred it, a habit that drives Jungkook crazy as he immediately fiddles to iron out the crease. 

“Are you gonna read it to me too, mom?” he teases. 

“Okay fine! I’ll be quiet, but don’t take too long.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Eyes fluttering, you let Jungkook take his time to absorb your piece. A roommate by any other (rude) name: the lost letter. A cheesy, gimmicky title that Victoria insisted upon that you had no choice but relent to. The rest of the spread thankfully has a very authentic edge to it, your story laced with photos of you and Jungkook, your internship with Vernon, and most importantly, a scan of the lavender letter that got left in the past. 

Jungkook’s not silent through his read-through, either. He laughs at all the right parts, fueling your ego as his smile grows at your favorite lines. While he doesn’t directly engage in conversation, his positive energy is enough for you to make you feel like you’ve done your job right. It’s one thing to write about unknown celebrities and unnamed artists, but for people like Jungkook, the validation is personal. 

“It’s beautiful,” Jungkook says when he’s read it thrice through, running his thumb over a picture of you. “Really organic. Really, real.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he chuckles, having run out of adverbs. “It’s funny, too. I liked your little internal monologue. I wish I knew how you felt back then.” 

“I wish you did, too.” 

You’re quietly munching on a strawberry, looking over a polaroid Jungkook took. It was  sometime in the beginning of senior year, where you’ve fallen asleep on his mattress, drool drying on your mouth. Normally you’d be opposed to having such unflattering, grainy pictures amongst your writing, but it encapsulates the youth you’ve tried so hard to chase away. 

“How do you feel?” Jungkook says, switching out the magazine for the plate of fruit, placing it on his side. 

“Feel great, actually,” you muse, smiling to yourself. By no means are you a hero writing some grand gesture in an entertainment magazine, but you feel like you’ve saved yourself. You’ve savored your youth in four thousand words, cutting out the poison and keeping the moment as sweet as it can be. 

“I’m proud of you,” he reaches to ruffle your hair, and you don’t even get mad when it tousles out of your pinned style. 

Reveling in the attention, you simply close your eyes and feed yourself a handful of blueberries. 

“Love that I make money, but I definitely miss college from time to time,” Jungkook stretches, jostling you out of your comfortable position. “Like I remember Taehyung and I would take turns bringing backpacks to the dining hall so we could stuff fruit in it for later.”

“Yeah, but as much as I loved college I wouldn’t go back,” you nod to yourself, “I’m happy where I am now.” 

“What about when we stayed up for midnight breakfast? The dining hall was filled to the brim with food. Remember when I tried to eat a whole stack of pancakes?” 

“Jungkook…” 

“Or when our classes got cancelled and we went to Lotte World? You ate way too much funnel cake and I had to carry you to the car!” 

“Jungkook—” 

“And that one time we snuck out to the music hall’s rooftop?” words gush out of Jungkook’s mouth like a waterfall, unable to relent, “that’s when I realized I liked you. I liked you so much, I tried to tell you that night but choked—”

“Jungkook!” and he immediately zips up, frowning. You straighten up, on your knees as you reach over to run your hands through his onyx tresses, moving the styled strands to the back of his pierced ears, “Jungkook,” you repeat softly, “I’ve heard all these stories, I was there for most of them. As much as I love the past… can we talk about something else?” you give him a small, tentative smile to show him you’re not mad, but a little uncomfortable at his reminiscing. 

He leans into your touch, pressing your palm against the soft swell of his warm cheek. “Okay,” he agrees, resting one hand on your thigh. 

You’re roped in his gaze, and you have to force yourself to breathe when Jungkook moves closer to you. He hooks a leg behind his back, and another across his lap. A cool breeze kisses your inner thighs when your skirt exposes your cotton underwear. You should be embarrassed but instead you’re fixated, unable to understand what he’s trying to accomplish. 

“Then I’m gonna talk about the future,” Jungkook traps you between the couch, his thumb running hot circles to where your skirt has hiked up. It exposes a slip of the thigh that Jungkook has seen a million times. He’s seen you walking around your apartment in a large shirt, ridden up to your boyshorts. It’s different now, you feel exposed and tingly, thrumming with excitement. “I like you, obviously anticipated news and old news. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to go on dates with you, re-watch Avatar, grumble when I force you to come to the gym with me,” he bumps noses with you when you scrunch yours, “I wanna be with you. Heck, I’ve even cleared space in my spare room so you’d have closet space for all your fancy designer suits if you ever need it.”

“You cleared space?” you manage to choke out. Visions of a shared apartment roll through your brain. Cooking meals together, having two toothbrushes side by side, and waking up to his face. 

“Of course I did. Do you know how financially attractive you are?” he says lightheartedly, “you’re a sexy working woman and it’s crazy to imagine you’d want to settle for me and my little apartment. But I have to try now because if I don’t, it’ll be too late.” 

“That’s not true,” you retort, “you’re not someone I’d settle for. I want you, and no one else.” 

He chuckles, running a thumb over your cheek. “Then what are we waiting for? Your key’s hiding under the mat.” 

“Jungkook…” on the tip of your tongue lays the words you’re going too fast but it doesn’t make its way to the air. 

“But do you really think it’s too fast?” he reads your face clearly, “these feelings never went anywhere. They were locked away, sure. And I loved her,” he can’t even say the name, not when you’re warm and flush against him, “but I loved our friendship more.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you breathe, letting the cogs in your brain roll until sparks develop. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he concedes, “I just wanted to let you know. Could’ve done the letter thing all over again and let the past repeat itself. I know Namjoon wouldn’t hide a love letter for two years, but if I left another damn letter he’d definitely make a copy and tease me about it.” 

You snort, pressing your forehead to his. You’re practically buried in the couch now, tingly and vibrating with happiness. “And I’m not going to leave you hanging. I do want to say something,” and he looks at you expectantly, licking the leftover berry juice on his lips, nearly making you miss your train of thought, “I like you too,” you say, the other L-word is also applicable, but you feel like that phrase is reserved for another time, “I want to show you off on work vacations, bring you along as my date and show them you’re my muse,” you confess, “I wanna play video games with you ‘till 2AM, and eat ice cream in the comfort of our apartment instead of our cars because we’re too stubborn to admit we don’t wanna go home without each other.” 

Jungkook absolutely preens at the affection, sending you a heart melting smile that has your stomach doing backflips.

“Jungkook, I want to fall in love with you again.” 

Your squeal of surprise is swallowed by Jungkook’s lips, tasting of mangoes and berries as strong hands cup your backside, easily lifting you onto his lap. You plop under his strong thighs, feeling them flex against yours. The both of you are pouring in this kiss, raining with promises and hopes for a future with each other. His taste is concentrated, and you can feel the devotion practically injected in his embrace. 

When he pulls away his lips are cherry-red and shiny, looking up at you through clear coffee eyes. “This isn’t a dream, right?” he looks at you up and down, unable to decipher fact from fiction, “because I distinctly remember two wet dreams that involve you looking like this.” 

Looking down, you heat at the disarray you’re in. Hair wild and parted in different wavelengths, tired of the day’s efforts. Your slightly sheer dress-shirt is rumpled, the lace collar opened with two popped buttons revealing your cleavage, and your skirt is stretched so tight that it’s ruched all the way up your thighs. Sprawled across Jungkook’s lap, you’re dangerously close to something long and hard. 

Emboldened, you clutch at Jungkook’s collar, pulling him closer. 

“Show me what happens in your dream,” you whisper into his ear, barely brushing your clothed core against his crotch, “maybe we can make it come true tonight.” 

You can’t see his face, but you feel something dark and sensual overtake him. The grip on your ass tightens, a delicious pain that has you pressing your breasts against him and nipping on his ear, your tongue darting sensually through the cold silver hoops that dart through his skin. 

Within seconds, he rips you away from his neck and demands, “Open.” 

Dazed, you barely get a centimeter of your mouth open when Jungkook presses something cold and sugary against your lips. Whipped cream. You manage to take a small bite of the tart strawberry that he holds by the viridian stem, rolling the flavor between your mouth as Jungkook paints the leftover whipped cream over your lips. Once he’s satisfied he then creates a white trail that leads to your cleavage. 

Better than any dream, his eyes drink you in like the last glass of water in a desert. Your lips are swollen and parted like a baby kitten, covered in the creamy confection. “So pretty,” he exhales, his hot tongue licking from your cleavage to your lips, swallowing the flavor of you and strawberry juice, “such a pretty girl you are, and all mine.” 

“Yours,” you submit easily, rolling your hips against his. 

At that moment you think you’re meant to fall in love this way. You can’t imagine the shy, fumbly Jungkook and your equally confused self waltzing around a relationship when you barely had your lives together. The two of you still had growing to do. The wait is certainly worth it, because as you feel his arms tighten around you, you’re sure this love will stay strong.

It’s difficult for you to find a rhythm at first, what with Jungkook’s strength and need to be satiated, both of you are sloppy but the friction is nothing less than delicious. Your finger reaches over to swipe at the leftover cream on the plate, and you press your finger to Jungkook’s mouth, and he immediately complies. A dollop of sweet cream leaks out of his lips and your panties dampen further when you feel his tongue lick you clean, imagaining how good it would feel if it was your pussy he was licking. 

Your mouth waters at the feeling of his dick lining up against your core, as sticky as the strawberry juice that clings to your bodies. 

“C-can I make a confession? I—oh, Jungkook…” your mind is all fuzzed up when he snaps his hips against yours, causing you to shamelessly bounce on his length. 

“Yeah?” 

“I… I like it when you use all your strength like that,” his hips slow as your words sink in, but you don’t mind as it gives you time to make a long drag along the entirety of his member. “Everytime you pull me up when I trip, or you come back from a workout, I like it when you carry me around like I weigh nothing.” 

“Do—do you think about it a lot?” he grunts, and you stifle a moan when he does a slow, hard drag against your wet folds. “Tell the truth.” 

“It’s, it’s embarrassing,” you whimper, unable to think straight with the amount of stimuli you’re receiving.  

“Please, baby.” 

“Yes mm—oh! I do,” you try to get the words out as quickly as you can. He stops moving, and you groan in frustration so you just lay it all out on the table. “I, I love it when you hold me in your strong arms. And, ah, uh w-henever you come back from the gym you just look so sexy fresh from the shower. Sometimes I think about how you’re too damn nice for your own good but I bet you’d be so rough in bed.” 

“Really?” and then he’s shoving you onto the couch, air brushing against your bare thighs as your back hits the beige throw pillows. He’s hovering, dark eyes starting from the tip of your toes to your damp lips. “You like it when I manhandle you? Throw you around like a little doll?” 

“All that strength, and for what?” you try to keep your snappy remarks in check, but it’s hard when he’s pressing his straining dick against your thigh, weeping and needy. 

“You’re not gonna be joking about my strength anytime soon, baby,” emblazoned, he easily throws your leg over his shoulder, pushing your panties to the side to let your wetness leak out and onto his fingers, “are you gonna complain or be a good girl?” 

“Yes, I’m ah—” you wince when he inserts a finger, “I’ll be good for you,” 

“My good girl,” he revels in the way you melt under his touch, your previous sarcasm quickly dissolving into a puddle. You always had an inkling that Jungkook would be a sneaky fox in bed, all that muscle hidden behind a kind smile and a penchant for tea with milk and honey. 

Jungkook slips in another finger, stretching you and preparing you for what’s to come. He’s scissoring you at a sensible pace that has you squirming and wanting more. To prevent you from shimmying off the couch he holds you down with his free hand, and you love the way he practically feeds you to the couch, hands dancing over your neck as he shoves you further into the furniture. 

“You look so gorgeous,” he says, causing you to moan and keen at his attention, “you’re such a strong, gorgeous woman. Having you sprawled out like this, ready to do whatever I want to you is so fucking hot.” 

“I’m—I’m only weak for you Jungkook,” you say honestly, tears pricking when he dips another finger. The stretch burns deliciously, and your folds eagerly swallow him up until you’re filled to the brim. Your fingers or toys cannot compare to flesh, and you sigh in relief when you see his inked fingers pick up the pace once more. 

“You’re damn right,” Jungkook husks, and with a grain of love he murmurs in your ear, “I’m only weak for you, too.” 

And that’s when he snaps, thumb rolling against your bud as he slams his other fingers against you, going at a brutal pace. You cry out, not caring whether his neighbors hear as he pulls you back and forth through pleasure and pain. 

“T-too much, Kookie,” you mewl, your hand warbling to find his, “I, ah, ‘m gonna cum!” 

“That’s the plan,” he only goes faster, stretching your band further and further before your desired high is reached. His hand trails up to force your chin straight, looking up at him, “let go for me, baby. Wanna feel your pussy clench around my fingers.” 

In seconds, you gush. It has you in a slight panic, drunk on endorphins as you try to lift your head up but Jungkook’s hand is firmly pressing you on your shoulder as he fingers you efficiently through your high, the wet squelching sounds only increasing with your cries. His lap is drenched in your arousal, along with his chin and lips glistening with your essence. 

He finally releases you when you’re practically shaking, his hands sticky and creamy. You moan when he shamelessly licks them within your view, making sure to wrap his tongue around his ink-stained digits. 

“I,” your mouth is dry when you feel the dampness that hits your bottom, “I’ve never, I don’t remember ever—” 

Your babbles are lost between your throat and Jungkook’s tongue, shoved deep into your mouth. Tasting your arousal has you practically vibrating in your place, as you two rut against each other like hungry bunnies. 

“God, you’re amazing,” he says between pecks, kissing away your face of any tears you may have pricked, “Amazing, adorable, absolutely beautifulIadoreyousoso—” 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you press your hips up, wiggling for more attention, “please fuck me, Jungkook.” 

You can’t help the witchy, satisfied smile when Jungkook’s eyes darken to a thick coal, “Anything for you,” he murmurs, swinging your legs between his arms as he lifts you like a feather. 

On his lap again, you soon accept that the way you two mesh like puzzle pieces is one of your favorite positions as it gives you both equal space to ravish each other. 

Just when your hand trails to the waistband of his boxer briefs and you’re rolling your thumb over its collected moisture, the moment is shattered when the doorbell rings. You jump in his arms, unprepared for your moment to be interrupted. 

He groans into the crown of your hair, and you soften in his relaxed hold, “I ordered us pizza,” he nearly forgot. 

Perking your head up to look at him you regard him innocently, as if you didn’t release a waterfall on his sweats two seconds ago. “You got us pizza?” 

“I knew you’d be coming over tonight,” he’s pouting into your neck, regretting ever having called the pizza guy if he knew this would happen, “Victoria posted the publish date on Twitter. I just didn’t think,” he gestures vaguely to the mess on his pants, “this would happen.”  

“Damn, and here I thought I was being sneaky,” you chuckle, flicking his ear playfully. 

He gives you an uncharacteristically subby whine, shamelessly upset he has to let you go so fast after he’s given you your first of many highs. Before he weakens further under your beauty, he unceremoniously shoves you off. “Sorry, pretty girl,” you melt at the easy way his pet name rolls off his lips, “can you wait in my room for a bit so I can pay the delivery guy? I don’t want them to see you like this.” 

“But I want to eat pizza,” you declare stubbornly, standing up to button your blouse and pull down your skirt. 

Before you could fasten one button or pull down one centimeter, his hand darts out to snatch your wrist away from your body. It doesn’t hurt much, but it causes your body to heat in more places than one. He’s sexy like this, demanding your attention. “No,” he rumbles definitively, “my room. Now.” 

“Why?” you throw your hands in the air, yelping when he slaps your ass. He makes sure to make it sting, cupping you fully. 

“Because,” he says firmly, “you don’t get to eat until I eat,” you whimper when his hand reaches to cup your sex, panties wet and cold without his warmth as he pushes you in the direction of his bedroom. 

Oh, you can’t wait for both of you to eat tonight. 

some time later.

“Ohmygod the view is beautiful!” Krystal, who works in advertisement, squeals. “No filter needed!” 

“Alright alright, make room Princess,” Namjoon teases. With a bump to Krystal’s tiny hips Namjoon shoves you two across the pavilion, putting his arm around you once he finds the perfect angle, “Umji, can you get a pic of me and my Work Wife? I want this on the Big Hit Instagram!” 

You hold your straw sunhat down from the salty wind, smiling beautifully as Umji takes multiple pictures of you and Namjoon from her Nikon. Another successful year under your notch, ending with a successful work retreat. 

“Namjoon, can I take a picture with my actual wife now?” 

“We’re not married, Jungkook,” you chastise, patting the chest of Namjoon’s floral printed Hawaiian shirt so he can switch. Instantly, Jungkook slides up next to you like a picture perfect stock model piece, and you wrap your arms around his trim waist, “we’re not even engaged.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he pouts, looking over the pavilion and adjusting the both of you so there’s a good amount of you and the resort in the background. The sun may be scathingly hot, but it looks beautiful perched over the crystal clear waters. “Namjoon, you got it easy,” Jungkook says when he hands him your phone, “every angle is our good angle, so you can’t mess it up.” 

Being the honest man he is, Namjoon knows better and doesn’t say anything to that. Instead he shoots down whatever pineapple-flavored concoction is offered to him on a silver platter, and starts shooting. 

“Is this swimsuit new?” Jungkook murmurs into your ear between shots, flicking your little red number by the strap connecting the back, “because I didn’t see this in the luggage.” 

You smile big, pearly whites as Namjoon demands to pop out your butt and work it, pressing your body closer to Jungkook’s. “Tiny enough so I could hide it in my purse,” you reply proudly, voice low for only each other’s ears, “why, surprised?” 

“Definitely not prepared,” his fingers dig deliciously in your bare flesh, “would Victoria fire you if she catches us doing it in the cabana?” 

Amused that your boyfriend now shares your combined awe and fear of your boss, you twist his nipple lightly. He yelps, and from Namjoon’s guaff he’s definitely got that on camera. “We didn’t come to Boracay to fuck in the cabana.” 

“Then the hotel room?” 

Namjoon hands you back your phone when he considers his job done, letting you and Jungkook have some alone time. You wave your phone in his face, trying to get him to focus on the task at hand. You wanted to post some cute pictures of you and your boyfriend, one to impress the family back home and the Big Hit interns back in Seoul who are absolutely pining for your position. 

“Jungkook, they have the water ski thing where you can flip in the water mid air! Doesn’t that sound fun? Or we can go scuba diving, have Filipino food, or get massages. LIterally, we’re on Big Hit’s dime, and the first thing you want to do is go back to the room?” 

“Yes,” he pouts petulantly, leaning into the hollow of your ear and whispering, “got a chub on.” 

Discreetly so, your hands brush against his navy trunks and you note yes, he’s half hard. “No!” you shake your head definitively, pushing him out of your arms. You’re not letting sex get in the way of your hard-earned vacation, you’re on company dime and you intend to milk every peso of it. “Namjoon, take him away!” 

You blow him a kiss and follow another group who’s decided to go eat, watching your boyfriend get dragged away by Namjoon’s long arms. Krystal, who’s been mildly watching the whole ordeal in-between taking selfies, looks at you in awe, “You got it good, bosslady,” she says, and you happily link arms with her in the direction of the restaurants. 

You and Jungkook definitely have it good. You don’t see him until dinnertime, looking utterly relaxed as he sips on a mango-muddled concoction. He must’ve gotten a couples massage with Namjoon, cute. Splitting up was definitely a good idea, by the time your meal arrives the two of you are practically leaning against each other, telling each other what events you need to do tomorrow and events you think will be fun to do together. 

“Joon,” Jungkook is throwing an arm over your Wusband’s shoulder, mildly tipsy. The image is adorable, as Jungkook long ago previously confessed that he felt a little jealous of Namjoon’s work relationship with you before you were dating. Now, it feels like they’re best friends and you’re third-wheeling. “What do you think about having halo-halo tomorrow? It’s like bingsu but with a bunch of other good stuffs. There’s red bean, mango, ube, ice cream…” 

Just as Jungkook begins his tirade of dessert ingredients, you pull up your phone to check on your social media. You smile back at your profile, seeing your latest Instagram post at the very top of the feed. Not to flex, but the two of you look pretty smokin’ since you’ve been keeping up with Jungkook’s insistence to join him at the gym. Jungkook and you are leaning against the pristine veranda, overlooking the clear blue water and a cloudless sky. The smiles you two sport are genuine and utterly in love. 

You scroll down the comments, most of them filled with sweet messages but one of them has you doing a double take. 

@sooyaaa__: 😒😒😒 knew something was goin on behind my back… good riddance

The smell of Jungkook’s detergent overtakes your nostrils, and you turn to him. He’s stopped talking, now immersed in whatever’s going on in your phone. 

“The nerve of her,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, disgusted at her latest comment. “As if anyone would believe her.” 

“Yeah,” you echo, “I feel bad for her, though. She’s probably lonely.” 

“Her loss, she put this upon herself. Not us.” 

You pout, “I know, but she was my friend at one point.” 

He frowns, putting an arm behind your backrest. It would be easy for him to say yeah, and she was my girlfriend and one-up you, leaving it at that. But now he knows better, and that friendship is a much better value than an ill-fated relationship. “Sorry baby,” it’s not his fault, but he sees your disappointment in putting out hope for an old friend. He gives you a little smooch on your temple, “do you miss her?” 

“The old her, yeah,” you sigh, clicking on her profile, “but now? I can do without her negativity.” 

“Okay,” he takes your phone from your hand, “have you ever blocked a person before?”

“No.”

“Well, today’s the day,” he says it so coolly, you barely have time to think when he clicks the ‘block’ button on Jisoo’s profile, then clicking off his phone to put in his pocket. “No more phone for today,” he proceeds to take your plate that was recently served, taking the time to cut your large vegetables into smaller portions. “Like you said, we shouldn’t waste your vacation time.” 

Your heart swells with butterflies for Jeon Jungkook, who’s meticulously cutting your food and telling you to relax and stop dwelling on the past. He’s right, if Jisoo’s not going to stick around for the future and continue to cause negativity in your life, why not keep the positives in the past while it lasted? 

“You know I love you, right?” 

He ceases cutting, and looks at you to pop a sweet potato in his mouth. “Love me enough to do it in the cabana?” 

He’s still on that? “Jungkook,” you warn, pretending to get up, “forget I said anything. I’m gonna go karaoke with Umji.” 

“Kiddingggg,” he whines, pulling you back down with an outstretched hand, “you know I love you too.” 

“You’re terrible.” 

“Only this way because I’d know you’d totally be into cabana sex if we were vacationing by ourselves.” 

“Yes, but you’re still terrible,” you giggle when Jungkook steals a kiss, just as easy as he’s stolen your heart.  

[mintugiyuu]

oh! its okay, i'll try to word it as close as possible to the first time.

may i please have the main group with a trans male reader who is stealth and kind of scared of how they'll react coming out to them?

(gosh i hope thats close enough, my memory is not the best,,)

thank you so much!!

thank you so so much for resending this!! I’m so sorry it got deleted the first time around, it was early in the morning and I wasn’t using my noggin when I was trying to draft it ;3;

for the kamaboko squad, I left it so it could be interpreted as romantic or platonic! for nezuko I did it more platonically, I hope that was ok! thank you for requesting and I hope these are enjoyable to read! I hope you’re well <3

꒰🌤꒱ — as it’s always been.

sfw scenarios + head-canons

➥ characters || kamado tanjirou, kamado nezuko, hashibira inosuke, agatsuma zenitsu

➥ warnings || none

➥ synopsis || the reader hesitantly comes out as trans to the kamaboko squad, nervous to what they’ll think and say; here is how they would react.

➥ kamado tanjirou:

- Tanjirou has a great sense of smell, so there’s no hiding your anxiety/nervousness about coming out. He’s most certainly going to ask you what’s wrong, nothing but concerned for your state of being.

- As you’re explaining and officially coming out to him, he’s very attentive; nodding and making sure you knew he was listening.

- He knows this must be very hard and nerve-wracking for you, so he lets you finish speaking before responding himself.

- Tanjirou, being the sweetheart he is, immediately reassures you that he thinks no different of you and still loves you through and through!

- If he’s honest, he’s a bit surprised. The boy definitely wasn’t expecting this, but regardless he’s very glad that you’re happy with who you are and honored that you trust him enough with this information.

- Expect lots of words of support and small actions of comfort/affection. Tanjirou immediately pulls you into a hug, rubbing your back as he tells you how proud he is of you, and how the information you told him will stay between you two (unless/until you tell the others; he knows it’s not in his place). He’d hold both your hands to his chest as he promises you that nothing has changed between the two of you, giving you his infamous gentle smile.

- Like he promised, nothing changes between you two. Everything is as it was before, and unless you want to talk about the topic at hand, he won’t even bring it up. It just goes to show he doesn’t mind what so ever and supports you all the way!

➥ kamado nezuko

- When it comes to Nezuko as a demon, she doesn’t really have a true understanding of anything that’s going on around her; she goes with her emotions and the emotions she’s picking up around her. Of course, she can tell when there’s danger and understand basic conversations. But other than that, all she really can understand is protect, sleep, and head pats.

- So you wouldn’t outright come out to her, knowing she probably wouldn’t understand regardless. It happens by accident, kind of.

- She spends her days in a dark room of the butterfly mansion as the others are healing, either sleeping or doing her own thing. You’re probably pacing around the room, trying to plan out how to officially tell the other boys and properly come out to them.

- Nezuko notices your distress from where she was playing with a handkerchief you gave to her after one of your missions.

- “Hmmmph!”

- In other words, she’s grabbing your attention, looking lost to why you’re pacing. In a “hey! what are you doing?” kind of way.

- When you didn’t notice her attempts, she huffs, hopping off the bed and making her way to you. She’s in her small form currently, trying to regain her energy but wanting to be awake to be in your company.

- You’d feel her tug at your uniform, making several muffled questionable noises at your pacing. If you tried to brush her off, telling her “it’s nothing”, she’s calling you out on your bull and tugging you to the bed.

- Sit criss-cross and watch her crawl into your lap as a toddler would do to an older sibling (for she saw you as another big brother), grabbing your arms and making it so you were hugging her.

- This gives you no room but to explain yourself, so you did. As you come out to her and explain how you’re nervous to tell the others, she’d.. not be the most understanding.

- Understanding as in she doesn’t comprehend what you’re telling her. But she does her best to listen, feeling how important this is to you and how anxious you’re reacting.

- She cuts you off of a nervous ramble of all the bad outcomes with a head-pat to your head, closing her eyes with a small “hmhmph!” coming from under her muzzle.

- Expect a good ole Kamado hug, tiny edition. And she’s not letting you go, not even when it was time for dinner.

- She calms you, knowing in your heart that even if she’s not completely aware, she still loves you and hopefully the others will as well (they will of course).

- Before you have to go, she grips onto your sleeve and pulls the muzzle off her mouth, giving you a sharp toothed smile. Before you can tell her to put it back on, that you don’t want anyone to see her with it off, but she gets one word out with the biggest beaming smile.

- “Oniisan!” (“Big Brother!”)

- .... and pats her head. She wants head pats too. Nothing’s changed, you’re still the best head pat giver she knows.

➥ !! spoilers for chapter 204 !! bonus: after the final battle, if you were to come out to a now human Nezuko, she’d react much like Tanjirou; just a lot more bubbly with more bright smiles. Unlike Tanjirou, she’d be more.. “aggressively” supportive. Basically, she wouldn’t hesitate to throw hands at anyone who says something purposely ignorant. It’s terrifyingly sweet; no one messes with her big brother.

➥ hashibira inosuke

- Inosuke has very sensitive skin, so he’s getting goosebumps from the anxiety your giving off. It annoys and confuses him, not understanding what’s going on for you to be so nervous.

- “Oi! You’re making my skin prickly!! Stop that!!”

- It’s his way of asking what’s wrong, wanting to know how to stop it.

- Your anxiety hits an all time high as you let it out, officially coming out to him.

- ... But he doesn’t know what “trans” means, so he’s confused. He stands there, blinking under his pig mask.

- “... What? What the hell is that?” He may sound brash, but he just hates not understanding things. He wants to understand more than everyone else, after all, so don’t take it personally.

- After a long bit of explaining it clearly to him, you two are sitting on the ground, Inosuke with his hands in his lap as he stares at you.

- He’s surprisingly silent the whole way through, and not being able to see his true facial expression just makes you all the more nervous.

- If you were to nervously ask him to take his mask off, you were expecting a hard no. What you weren’t expecting was for him to hesitate for only a moment before taking it off, setting it down in to his lap.

- Inosuke’s eyebrows would be furrowed, his mouth turned down as he looked at you closely. Bracing yourself, he responded.

- “So?”

- That definitely isn’t what you would be expecting.

- Now he didn’t mean this in any negative connotation at all. He fully understands what it means now and what you told him - and to note he’s completely fine with it - he’s just confused to why it’s such a big deal. (If anything he respects you even more, finding you extremely strong.)

- Inosuke doesn’t care how you were born or what you choose to be; at the end of the day you’re his favorite sparring partner! Plus, he has to keep you around. He wants to understand the warm fuzzies he gets in his tummy when you do nice things for him.

- “Doesn’t matter what you are, I can still kick your ass!!” He says as he tackles you to the ground.

- All’s well ends well, and much like Tanjirou, it seems nothing would change between you two.

➥ agatsuma zenitsu

- The high-pitched anxiety sound emitting from you is giving Zenitsu a headache; he’ll make sure to complain about it loudly so you know.

- If you apologized for it while fidgeting, he’ll soften his whining tone and ask why you’re so nervous anyways? It’s day, so it’s not like you have demons to fear.

- You hesitate, stuttering around the topic before officially coming out, explaining that to him and why you’re so nervous.

- Zenitsu.. definitely was not expecting that. He’d go wide-eyed, clearly shocked at the information.

- “HUH??? YOU’RE WHAT???”

- If you were to flinch at his shouts, he’d pause and look to you; watching how you curled up on yourself, scared you looked for a bad reaction.

- Instead he immediately goes to reassure you.

- “IM SORRY!! I-I didn’t mean it like that!! PROMISE! I just wasn’t expecting that!! I wouldn’t ever have guessed!!- I MEAN-!!” He’s talking way to fast for you to even understand, so the more you looked lost the more Zenitsu feared he messed up the trust you must’ve had for him in order to tell him that.

- Eventually he’d break down, getting on his hands and knees while bowing his head to the floor, gripping your pant leg all while begging you to forgive him.

- You’re the one who originally needed comfort here, not him. Smh Zenitsu.

- In all seriousness, reassure him that he’s ok. He meant no harm by his reaction, he just tends to be over-dramatic with his reactions and emotions.

- Once he’s calm, he’d sniffle and be sitting next to you, shoulder to shoulder.

- Zenitsu gives it a few minutes before asking questions, making sure he’s understanding 100% and not getting anything wrong.

- The blonde-boy knows about how hard struggles in life can be; he’s struggled his whole life when it comes to finding a home and a place of belonging, being homeless for the first 3/4’s of the life he’s lived so far. He knows he can’t compare his struggles to the things you must’ve gone through, but he can clearly and easily sympathize.

- He reassures you that he thinks no different of you, if anything he admires the way you could be so brave about it.

- It’s a quiet moment between the two of you as Zenitsu continues his rambles (still scared he ruined whatever is between you two a moment ago), circling over the same couple topics; how he supports you, will support you through anything, that he sees you no differently and that nothing will change.

- Please place your hand over his mouth or he’ll keep going all day; his anxiety rambles are said to last hours.

- This has only made you two closer, the others finding you and Zenitsu sticking/hanging around each other more and more frequently. In the end, your happy you told him.

[asterekmess]

Heyo! So I’ve been in the sterek fandom for quite some time now and I’ve been wondering about how you would describe stiles’ personality?

I’ve never actually sat down and watched a full episode of teen wolf (and honestly I’m not sure if I ever will considering everything I’ve heard about how they treat derek and his history but idk who knows I’m very curious in a lot of the plot lines and character development), and a lot of the stuff I know about the show I’ve scraped from fics, gifs, and meta posts

For me personally, Stiles’ personality and characterization is so fluid and nuanced that sometimes I have trouble pinning him down (tho derek doesn’t have trouble with that *wink wink*) So I would love to hear your thoughts! Sorry for the long ask, this grew legs and an ugly mug shdhdhhdjdcj anyhow have a great day :D

Well, everybody's got different perspectives and opinions on Stiles' personality, honestly. Even when you try to stick to 'canon' things, there's a lot of room for interpretation on the why when he does things, or what it says about him as a person, etc etc etc.

Personally, I see canon Stiles as kind of an asshole. I mean, I love him, and he does some incredible things, and he's clearly got an intense love for those close to him. But I do make him kinder in fics, or I at least make him regret being a dick.

In canon, we're given a Stiles who cracks 'dead baby' jokes (he's talking about human sacrifice, so the conversation was already plenty morbid. This wasn't out of the blue.) Who begs for Scott to let Jackson die (though it's made clear that this wasn't serious, and he later works to save Jackson's hide like ten times over), and who will mercilessly poke and prod at people's insecurities or painful pasts, especially when worked up. Isaac's previous abuse isn't a no-go topic. Derek having 'dated' (read: been assaulted at worst and at best, been lied to) serial killers isn't something he's going to tread lightly around. He doesn't try to soften things to save someone's feelings most of the time.

He's presented as someone who is incredibly impulsive, with his emotions, words, and actions. It's kind of implied this is because of his ADHD, but that doesn't explain how often the impulsively cruel or harsh things he says aren't retracted or apologized for, or just generally regretted. Yes, ADHD people are impulsive, and yes sometimes our mouths get away from us and we can end up saying some Fucked Up shit to people because we literally couldn't control the words coming out. But that doesn't mean we're cruel or evil or mean. We still feel bad for doing those things, and those of us who are decent people, try to fix or repair what we've messed up. I am...not a fan of how often ADHD is used as an excuse to make a character a dickhead because "he has no filter." No filter means we struggle to control our thoughts and what we say, it doesn't make us heartless.

So, when I'm writing him, I fix it. Even if he still Does something fucked up, I have him care that he did it. I have him realize what he did or said wasn't okay and respond to that knowledge in some way. Which to some people, means I'm just ignoring what a fucker he is, but imo it feels like a horrible fuckup on the creator's parts, so I'm just correcting the mistake. He's no less Stiles just bc I taught him to say sorry.

Anyway. I'm trying NOT to ramble here.

To answer your question, as best I can; Stiles is sarcastic. Stiles is passionate to a fault. His emotions are BIG, whatever they are. Good, Bad, or even apathy. Whatever feelings he has are just intense. He is very much a no gods, no kings, no masters, kind of man. There isn't really an 'authority' to him, except maybe his dad sometimes. He puts family, and those he considers family, First. But that doesn't mean he isn't selfless. Because he is. Incredibly so. Uncomfortably so.

He walks into gasoline for his friends. He puts himself in the position of losing the only parent he has left, for his classmates. He cares enough about strangers to insist a drunk girl he's spoken to for five minutes max stay hydrated and give her a bottle of water. He literally handed over his mind on a platter to a fox demon for someone he barely fucking knew, to keep her safe.

Loyal. Humorous. A fighter. Family-oriented. Clever. Passionate. Strong, physically, mentally, and emotionally. And a very good liar, in my opinion.

He doesn't lie very well in the show, not to people's faces. He'll stumble around a "I haven't seen him since the last time I saw him" or "are you asking me to tell you what I would have told you if I were going to tell you it?" but at the same time, he can repress and hide away his feelings and his pain in a way not even Derek manages.

He asked Caitlin questions about her girlfriend, and worked to solve the human sacrifices, literal minutes after finding out he'd just lost his oldest friend. He drove Lydia to the warehouse to save Jackson after having the shit beat out of him by a man who'd been learning to cause pain since he was a CHILD. And he never gives away how incredibly broken he is for more than a couple seconds. and it's a little frightening, because he convinces people in this show who are lie detectors that he's okay, when he's a fucking mess. Even Derek shows his pain.

You're right that he's nuanced, and part of that is because when you see him in meta or in fic, what you're seeing is a dozen versions of him sort of compressed into a flat image. Because he changes throughout the show, and while some of his core personality stays the same, a lot of stuff changes. So one fic might harp on his insensitivity, and callousness toward Isaac or how easily he says "just let them die" when talking about Derek or someone else. And then another will dive into how fucking far he's willing to go, travelling all the way to mexico and facing down a hunter clan a dozen times more powerful than the argents with no one but a banshee at his side, just to get Derek back. Or how he saw Malia hurting and sat with her on a couch and held her hand. One is a much earlier version of Stiles, from the start of the show, the other from his midpoint. Near the end, you're able to say that he was so torn about leaving Derek while he was dying, he had to be Begged to go save Scott. That he manipulated an ENTIRE FBI investigation in order to save and protect Derek. (im focusing on derek bc sterek, but also bc his relationship with Derek is the Biggest Arc he has in the show, and the most solid)

You're going to read about different versions of him, and I totally get how that's confusing.

We all sort of bleed ourselves into him and either bring certain canon characteristics to the forefront, or straight up add our own so he's more relatable to us.

So while I can't really help you pin down any specific Stiles, just know that there's not really a 'true' Stiles that anyone can confirm or deny. It's all just perception, so however you see him, go with it. Strengthen it. Explore it. I'm sure you'll find people who see what you do.

[17tetsuro]

could u do fake dating headcanons where they slowly fall for u w atsumu, kenma & oikawa,, gn pronounces are fine :)

haikyuu boys slowly falling for you (fake dating edition) (gn!reader)

feat: atsumu, kenma, oikawa

warnings: fake dating, abuse of cliche tropes and commas and question marks, timeskip setting because im anything but creative, swearing

requests are open!

a/n: thank you for requesting this!! i hope you like it :D

atsumu

* you’ve been friends with him ever since high school and you watched his career grow

* youre both equally proud of each other n your friendship is built on mutual respect, trust and love

* you basically live in his apartment, with how much time you spend over there

* he would complain 24/7 about not having anyone to go to events with

* at one point you wanted to strangle him for never shutting up about it so you propose you go with him from time to time

* atsumu: “yeah, that was a setup”

* he KNOWS you’re drop dead gorgeous and everyone will be jealous of him that you’re with him (and you also look very good in formalwear, which he very much enjoys)

* and you get to have free food and drinks and also wear immaculate expensive clothes

* so,, you became his regular date for sponsorship events and stuff

* and you never really outright said you were just friends?? so you’re used to the media portraying you two as lovers but your close circle is aware that your relationship is platonic

* everything was going great until one of his sponsor company’s heir started hitting on you

* atsumu saw you flirting with the person and his mind went blank

* he,, he didn’t understand why he wanted to commit multiple crimes on the spot

* bokuto conveniently showed up next to atsumu at that moment

“hey, atsumu? why is your date flirting with them?” bokuto asked, suddenly appearing next to atsumu, which startled the latter out of his thoughts.

a better question would be why atsumu saw red at the thought of you getting friendly with anyone but him that night. he tried his best to keep his composure, but it was hard when you rested a hand on the heir’s shoulder, leaning your head back while laughing.

“atsumu, are you not going to answer me? your lover is-“

“my what?” atsumu asked, attention now completely off you.

“your lover? is that a term you don’t like? i could say partner... significant other... or anything you want, really,” bokuto answered, apologizing.

“you- you think me and (y/n) are together?”

“aren’t you? what, with the way you look at each other i was convinced you two were like... high school sweethearts or something, who hate pda,” bokuto explained, while atsumu’s eyes trailed back to you.

“you think... you think they’d wan’ me?”

“are you blind, buddy?”

you must have sensed their gazes, because as soon as those words left bokuto’s mouth, your eyes snapped towards atsumu and bokuto. the latter started waving with a cheerful smile while the former just stood, entranced by you and your presence. atsumu noticed traces of confusion appearing on your face, and watched as you excused yourself from the conversation you were previously interested in.

“‘tsumu, are you alright?” you questioned, approaching the pair. bokuto grinned and left, which made you even more confused.

“yeah, i’m fi- fine. hey, uh, (y/n), say... do you- why did you offer to come to these events as my date?” atsumu asked, eyes dead set on yours. you cracked a confused smile. you seemed to be capable of nothing but confusion at the moment.

“because you’re my best friend and i hated to see you so down because of your loneliness at these gatherings,” you replied, holding his gaze. “why didn’t you oppose it?”

his eyes studied you and when he saw nothing but sincerity, he let out a loud sigh. this was all very new and confusing to him. it’s like bokuto calling you atsumu’s lover set off a bomb inside his head that instead of causing a mess, made everything fall into place; why his gaze seemed to linger on you more often than before, why he was so eager to choose your outfits for these events, why he went to parties he didn’t even have to attend, why he got so jealous and angry when he saw you with the cute heir.

“holy shit,” he breathed and ran his hands through his hair, letting out a nervous chuckle and lowering his gaze to the ground. “holy shit.”

“you look like you’ve been enlightened, and i love that for you, but ‘tsumu, i’m still very confused.”

“i’m in love with you,” he said in disbelief, and quickly snapped his eyes back to your face when he realized he said it out loud. “i- i mean- i’m not in love with you, no way in hell, you’re- you’re my best friend, you- you smack my head whenever i say somethin’ inappropriate, you keep me from underminin’ myself, you always lift my spirits and for fuck’s sake, please, stop lookin’ at me like that because i will be getting hopeful and if you’re just joking, i will never hear the end of it and-“

you finally hd enough of his rambling and cut him off with a kiss. at first he froze, but seconds later he melted into your embrace, hands sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer.

when your lips separated, atsumu gasping for air after his word vomit and the long kiss you shared, you spoke up. “miya atsumu, you’re a real dumbass, you know that?”

his breath hitched and you kept quiet for a second to let him suffer a bit.

“but you’re my dumbass. i love you, you absolute piece of work.”

atsumu honest to god giggled and leaned in for another kiss, which you gave him without hesitation.

somewhere in the room, bokuto was collecting the money sakusa promised to give him if he got you two to kiss.

kenma

* kenma and you are both twitch streamers with similar content so you knew of each other but weren’t properly introduced

* until one of your mutual friends invited you both to stream among us with them

* you obv accepted

* so during the 3 hr stream, you and kenma were imposters together a lot and had the biggest, most twisted imp plays

* a friendly competition broke out at one point, too, trying to see who exposed the most impostors between the two of you

* your fans ate your dynamic up

* from then on, you two interacted more and started to appear in each others’ streams

* kenma even invited you to his minecraft smp

* you became besties basically

* SO

* all fun and games

* and then a huge sponsorship opportunity rolled in

* and the people at the company assumed you were dating

* uh oh

* you couldnt just tell them they have it wrong bc the whole thing depended on your relationship

* so

* big brain kenma suggest you two start to “date”

* you were against deceiving your followers but kenma assured you you could have a public breakup and tell everyone you were better off as friends

* so you reluctantly agreed

* it was only for two months anyways, what could go wrong?

* both of you, on week 3, in separate discord calls: uh oh, im in l*ve

* you both tried to cope (read: repress everything) but the realization on both of your parts threw your dynamic off a bit and fans have noticed

* so you had to do something abt it

* so kenma suggested you try your hand at a minecraft challenge together

* it was all fun and games until it wasnt

* you somehow ended up flirting back and forth ????

* chat was goin crazy, even in sub only mode

* both of you: ha ha im in danger

* when the stream ended, you stayed on call, because that was a routine you stuck to no matter what

“so... how are you doing?” you asked kenma, trying to clear the awkwardness from the air.

“good.”

maybe you should have taken kenma’s refusal to talk about anything into account when initiating conversation.

kenma, on the other end of the call was anxiously playing with his fingers, trying to figure out if his chat was right, and you were indeed flirting with him. and him with you. god.

“hey, y/n,” kenma said after a while, “were you flirting with me?”

his bluntness startled you and you had to mute yourself for a few seconds while you collected yourself.

“is there a correct answer?” you asked hesitantly.

“yes.”

“oh... uhm, maybe? it wasn’t intentional. or maybe it was, subconsciously, i don’t know,” you admitted quietly.

“good. it was intentional on my part, i think,” and okay, that was not the reply you expected to hear.

“really?”

“yeah, i- i like you i guess,” he said, sounding more confident by the minute. “do you like me too?”

“i- yeah. i do. i like you, kenma,” you replied, sighing a breath of relief. it felt good to admit it aloud to him.

“do you- would you maybe want to come over?” he asked sheepishly, which made absolutely no sense because he sounded so confident a second ago. “we could play mario kart?”

you let the beaming smile you were holding back take over your face. “i’ll be there in 10, kenma.”

“i’ll be waiting for you.”

oikawa

* on god mans hated your guts

* like,, okay, you were iwa’s close friend but you were so annoyingly honest all the time

* it drove him mad

* what also drove him mad is the fact that you loved to tease him

* no matter what the circumstance, whether he was in japan or in argentina, you always found a way to make him blush

* okay so maybe hate is a strong word, because he kind of thought you were pretty, but in a platonic way

* dumbass

* iwa always give both of you shit for not liking each other

* so you came up with a big brain idea

* you: ”oikawa! we should date!”

* oikawa: “what”

* after you explained the concept of fake dating to him and its benefits (which included a staged dramatic breakup, giving you both a reason to hate each other without iwa complaining)

* he was totally down

* iwa, when he first saw you holding hands: “i knew it”

* SO!! thus began weeks of pretending to be in love with each other for the sake of iwa

* which turned from pretending to not pretending real quick for your liking

* falling in love with oikawa was not a plan of yours

* (falling in love with you wasn’t his, either)

* with iwa’s constant nagging of “i knew it, you both were head over heels for each other from the moment you met”, the time for the breakup came quicker than expected (maybe you both had enough. so what.)

* you agreed to do it in front of iwa so he could see it happen

* you chose a mcdonalds parking lot, because then you could storm off and iwa would follow you to make sure you were ok and oikawa could go home and sleep

* maybe winging it was not the best idea

“babe,” you said with venom, “haven’t i told you a thousand times that i do not want to hear about your exes? seriously, it’s like the only thing you talk about,” you complained, as your fake-boyfriend took a sip from his drink.

“well, babe,” his tone matching yours, “i would shut up about them if took the hint sometimes. maybe i don’t like going to the movies as much as you seem to, it’s boring,” he rolled his eyes, subtly glancing at iwa, who looked very uncomfortable third wheeling your argument. good

“jerk. i don’t even want to go to the movies that much, asshole,” you spat, crushing your empty cup in your hand.

“oh, you want to go to the movies plenty. face it, (y/n), you’re boring. no wonder you didn’t have a boyfriend before me,” he replied and his words, even though you knew were fake, still hit hard and you couldn’t help the tears gathering in your eyes.

“okay, then, thanks for these wonderful past few weeks, so glad you decided to take pity on me.” you tried to keep acting, encouraging yourself with the fact that if oikwa meant what he said, you wouldn’t have to talk to him if iwaizumi finally saw you two break up.

you expected a lot of things, but genuineness in oikawa’s eyes was not one of them.

“(y/n), i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it like that,” oikawa pleaded, clearly forgetting about your mutual goal.

with a mumbled whatever, you started walking home, letting the sunset wash over your face. when you knew you were out of sight, you sat down on a bench and just started crying.

you don’t know how much time passed, but you heard a voice behind you speak up.

“hey (y/n).”

“what the fuck do you want, oikawa? to rub in the fact that my first boyfriend was just faking it so his best friend would get off his back? leave me alone, jerk,” you said, trying to wipe your tears away.

“i- i didn’t mean it like that, please, believe me,” he replied, taking a seat next to you. you scooted away from him. he sighed.

“why would i believe you? why do you want to make up, anyways? this fight was pretty real, no way iwaizumi didn’t believe it,” you sniffed.

“because maybe... maybe i was very happy about the fact that i could be your boyfriend, even if it was fake. maybe i’m in love with you,” he said softly, leaning towards you.

“please, stop playing games. it’s over,” you replied, trying very hard to ignore the raw emotion in his voice as he spoke.

“i really am, (y/n). i wasn’t at first, i admit it, but now i am. i love you, please, believe me,” he begged and you finally made eye contact with him. eyes were mirrors of the soul, after all.

you studied his face for a few minutes, looking for anything that could indicate he was trying to pull a shit prank on you, but you found nothing.

“asshole. maybe i’m in love with you too, what would you do if i said that?” you asked, wiping your nose with your sleeves.

“kiss you.”

“do it, then, i guess. but you’re still not completely forgiven.”

“what do i have to do to earn your forgiveness, (y/n)?” he asked and you sent him a mischievous smile.

“take the blame for this whole fiasco with iwaizumi.” he froze at your words and visibly gulped, but nodded nonetheless.

“okay, i will. can i kiss you now?”

you rolled your eyes. “yeah.”

and he did.

[snnbnny]

tell me more abt u and sakusa and inumaki,, im interested in those pairings specifically

hehehe oki!!!~

Me an Oomi:

He's my rock, he's the calm to my chaotic. If I get overwhelmed then he knows without having to say anything, it's like he's honed in on my emotions. I always try to be aware if he's irritated at all.

When I walk by him, I always make sure bonk his back or side. Something he's grown accustomed to.

He's not actually a germaphobe, just blunt and a completionist. That being said, he doesn't hate mess but he appreciates clean. However he always likes to see when I've gone down a rabbit hole and have left a little mess behind, he can't explain it just that it makes him smile. He's always worried when the house is spotless because that mean either I'm having anxiety or an episode where I don't want to do anything.

Sure he's blunt and it can catch many off guard, but I appreciate his honesty most of the time- he's genuine and I love him for it. I to can be a little to honest with my thoughts and I think I'm less socially aware then he is!

He keeps buying me plants like their floral arrangements(which he also gets), our apartment is full with the suckers to the point that we're going to have to get a bigger place. Between all the other gifts for me including hobby supplies, animals, and clothes that is- He loves to spoil me despite my protests.

He has the biggest sweet tooth, literally eats anything I bake gratefully. I hate that pickled fruit Umeboshi that he liked but I always make sure we have it.

"Keep those biters in your mouth angel," He saw me from the corner of his eyes patter into the bedroom. "hello to you to, whats wrong?" I sit down on the bed and watch him as he peals off his gym cloths next ton one of the dressers. I see the new bruises forming and my brow pinches with concern, "Miya's annoying, is all. Practice was intense today." I get up and walk behind him, pressing kiss on the marks on his back and massaging the muscles of his lower back which makes him groan, "I'm so sorry baby, want me to run a bath?" I ask him which pulls a chuckle from the man. "Sure, as long as you join me.

He loves it when I play with his hair, no matter where why or how. He adores the feeling of my fingers combing his soft curls and my nails scritching his clean scalp. Also he loves it when I kiss his beauty marks.

We met in a coffee shop where I was working at the time, whenever he came in he made an effort to talks to me- found out rather quickly how I liked to ramble, a feature he was quick to adore. He still can get me talking for hours it's like he knows the right buttons to get me to info dump. He loves listening to me talk.

When we started living together and getting more serious, he asked me if I wished to quit my job in order to write and do my art more- he already made well more then enough to support us both, and he knew where my heart really was. I was reluctant to accept, but I did, and he knows how grateful I am every day.

Me and Inumaki!!

Me and Toge communicate on a different wavelength, I always understand what he means- we also learned sign language together in case theres a point he can't get across to me

While I don't actually know what he does or anything about the jujutsu side of the world, I know theres a lot that I can't know and whatever Inumaki does is dangerous- It always why I kiss him a thousand time before he leaves and tells him to be safe for me.

We both are physical people and often don't even have to try and speak to get our points across. From head butts, pokes, nibbles, etc.

He always loves when we cuddle and he gets me to talk, he hangs on to every word I say. When he has to leave, he thinks about every word on repeat in order to remind himself he has to come home to me.

He likes to have me sit on the floor infront of where he sits so he can brush and do my hair.

I can always tell when he pushes himself to far, I can see the ache in his face. I always force him to lay on the couch when I get every drink and food I think he could want, painkillers, and ice cubes- I straddle him and gently give him anything in small doses. I gently soothe his mouth muslces with the cubes, running them over his lips and the sides of his mouth.

When anyone asks how we met, we always tell them it was at a grocery store and I couldn't reach something. I reality I had nearly been a victim of a cursed spirit before he saved my life, something I'm eternally greatfull for. He still ponders how I saw the spirits though...

Me, him, and Yuuta are all bestfriends- when they aren't working its a good chance we have plans to hang out and do whatever. Sure I see they have secrets from me being some supernatural slayers or whatever, but I trust them and it never gets in the way of having fun most of the time.

He was gone for a really really long time once, so long that I was sure he was gone and I was inconsolable. But when he showed up in the kitchen he held me when I cried, and pointed to a cat that sat on the counter- we named the calico bonito flakes.

ask me about my self ships

[jiamour]

love letters

pairing: ravenclaw!renjun x hufflepuff!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 4.7k

summary:  in which renjun has the phattest crush but he’s too shy to say anything despite being their tutor so his friend convinces him to write anonymous love letters to get his feelings out

alternatively: renjun’s a cutie and you hate arithmancy

a/n: i wrote this two years ago so its not great and its bullet point again, also the pronouns in this are they/them i think?? this is the softest i’ve ever written renjun im sorry he’s not a bad bitch in this 

“GUESS WHAT,” you yelled as you walked into the hufflepuff common room knowing your friends would be there, “I FUCKING FAILED!”

cheers broke out

applause was given

you bowed

“thank you, thank you.”

“i told you not to take arithmancy,” your best friend jaemin’s voice spoke from one of the worn down couches, “why would you choose to do math when you’re a wizard?”

“i wanted a challenge jaemin.”

“bet you regret that type of thinking now idiot.”

“you’re a hufflepuff, you’re supposed to be nice,” you whined walking over to him and plopping by his side on the couch

“i’m just teasing hun,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder in comfort “how bad did you do?”

“on the last assignment i got a dreadful.”

jaemin went to laugh but it caught in his throat when he saw how upset you looked

“i think she just gave me pity points for writing my name neatly”

“you were always good at that,” jaemin nodded thoughtfully and you elbowed his side with a glare

“if only there was a calligraphy class here for you” jaemin continued on completely ignoring your attack

“don’t act like i’m not beating you in every other class”

“well then don’t act like i was the one stupid enough to ‘predict the future with numbers’ what kind of shit? isn’t that was the crystal balls are for”

“you’re really bad at comforting me” you giggled at his stupid words

“then why are you laughing”

“i’m not”

you were

“i guess i’ll just have to tickle you to cheer you up then,” he said with a shrug, “i mean since there’s no other way”

“don’t you dare”

“don’t you fucking dare jaemin”

but it was too late

jaemin hands went straight to your sides

you toppled backwards in laughter squirming to get out of his tickling hold

“st- stop” you chocked out through tears and giggles

“only if you’re feeling better” he said “if i see a single trace of a frown when i stop you best be prepared”

“i’m better” you tried to say but it came out in a sputter with loud laughs in between

jaemin pulled away slowly and you caught your breath before sitting up

“never do that again”

“but yn”

“never”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“you’re smart right?” jaemin asked hand on his hip looking down at the kid sitting in front of him

“i mean i guess?” the kid awkwardly answered not completely understanding what was going on

“good then i need you to tutor my friend”

“umm what?” the boy raised his eyebrow and looked at jaemin completely lost

“my friend needs help in arithmancy, like serious, serious help, and you claim to be smart, so it only makes sense that you would tutor them” jaemin explained his nonsensical logic and the boy just agreed in shock too confused to know what else to do

“okay good, so when are you free-“ jaemin thought for a second “what’s your name again?”

“renjun”

“okay so when are you free renjun?”

renjun began to ramble “i um i don’t have many plans most of the time so i guess-“

“perfect” jaemin clapped his hands together not letting renjun finish “meet them in the library tomorrow at 7”

“i-okay” jaemin took that as the end of the conversation giving a soft smile before turning to go find you

“wait what’s their name?” renjun called his words coming out all at different volumes “who am i tutoring”

“yn” jaemin turned a little to face renjun “do you know them?”

fuck

this could not be happening

renjun was going to die

his face was already burning thinking about it

noticing renjun’s expression jaemin just laughed

“i’ll take that as a yes”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“GUESS WHO’S THE BESTEST FRIEND EVER”

you gasped “is hyuck here?”

“what? no? you asshole it’s me”

“oof don’t flatter yourself that much” you mumbled waving him off

“i guess you don’t need the tutor i got you then”

“OH MY GOD JAEMIN REALLY?! YOU'RE THE BESTEST FRIEND EVER”

you jumped up and hugged him squeezing both of his arms into his sides

“i knew you’d come around” he said in a cocky demeanor “how could you not? i mean look at this face”

“and you ruined it” you spoke breathily and sat back down where you were before

“who’s my tutor anyways?”

“renjun”

your whole body went stiff

“guess you know him then” jaemin shrugged

“fuck you jaemin”

“hey where’s your hufflepuff manners you should be thanking me”

you probably should have

but you weren’t

because out of all the people in the school for jaemin to pick from

he chose fucking huang renjun

the ravenclaw cutie from astronomy who always lent you his ink when you ran out

the genius who always mastered the spells in minutes no matter how complex

now you were going to look stupid in front of him

you really didn’t want to look stupid in front of him

anyone else would be fine

just not him

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

it was 7 and jaemin had instructed you to wait outside the library for renjun

it was really really awkward

anxiety filled your stomach and mind

7:01

he was late that was fine, only one minute, it’s whatever

7:04

he probably just got lost of the funky moving staircases

yeah

that’s it

7:08

you shifted on you feet

uncomfortable

people were watching you get stood up

for a tutoring session

god your life couldn’t be anymore of a mess

7:15

panic set in

you closed your eyes taking a deep breath before preparing yourself to leave

and probably go smack jaemin upside the head for doing this to you

that was until you were hit by the library door

you let out a loud groan

done with everything

but when you looked at who had hit you

renjun was standing there

holding his books to his chest looking discouraged

“hey?” you said a little confused that he hadn’t noticed he hit you with a fucking door

“oh” his eyes grew wide when he saw you “yn you were here the whole time?”

your hand when straight to your face

you were really fucking stupid

making a fool of yourself already

didn't even check inside the library

“were you inside?” you asked quietly knowing the answer anyways

“yeah i thought you weren’t coming”

“i’m so sorry, jaemin gives really bad instructions”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

there was silence

this was awkward

“so umm” renjun started “should we go study?”

“that does seem like the best idea”

“okay”

you followed him into the library in awkward, awkward silence

you sat at the same table you assumed he was at before because it was littered with arithmancy books

“so what do you think you have most trouble with” he asked looking down at a book and flipping through the pages so he could have something to do

“um- all of it”

yay humiliation

he laughed

and you died

“why are you laughing? i’m serious”

he face instantly fell he cleared his throat looking at you shyly

“that can’t be true” he spoke soft trying not to offend you assuming he was already on thin ice

“oh it is hun”

“then i guess we have a lot of work to do”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

��ugh i hate arithmancy it’s literally the worst”

“it’s my favorite subject”

you coughed

“i mean i love arithmancy it’s the best yay” you said weakly adding small jazz hands at the end

“you don’t have to lie” he laughed writing as he spoke “the numbers just remind me of home”

you hummed quietly

“so you’re muggle born?” you ask glaring down at the complicated numbers in front of you

“yeah” renjun sighed “you don’t have a problem with that right?”

you were slightly offended

okay very offended

you looked at him in angry disbelief your mouth open in the shape of an o “do i look like a pretentious twat to you?”

“well...”

“don’t answer that”

he laughed

he had a nice laugh

“how far did you make it into the equation” he curiously leaned over the table to look at your work

“i have the first three numbers” you groaned spotting his already half full page

“and 2 of them are wrong” he brought his quill over and circled the numbers

you laid your head in your hands

this sucked

you felt dumb

you didn’t want to be here

“hey no yn don’t give up okay” he said softly, lightly trying to move your arms away from your face

you just let out a frustrated hum

“i’m never going to get this”

“not with that attitude you won’t”

you moved your hands away from your face to glare at him but he only smiled

he did that purposely didn’t he

fucking ravenclaws

he began to scoot his chair from the opposite side of the table to right beside you, grabbing the quill off of the paper

“here let me help we’ll figure this out together okay?”

you looked at him as he began to write with wide eyes

“okay.”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“did you understand today’s assignment?” renjun asked you

you gave him a look raising an eyebrow knowing he already knew the answer

“okay no need for that sass” he huffed “you could’ve just said no”

“you don’t deserve a no for a stupid question like that”

you began taking your books and parchment out of your bag

“i’m ready to begin this torture”

“hey i’m not that bad”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“okay but chenle is totally into jisung did you see the way he was all over him at lunch and whenever jisung walks into the room chenle’s feet turn straight towards him and he ignores everyone else that love psych 101” you said to renjun half way through your 6th study session which had more or less deteriorated into a gossip session

“oh okay ms.sherlock holmes” renjun had an impressed smile

“who the fuck is sherlock holmes?”

renjun waved his hand at you

“ugh wizards”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

the more you got to know renjun the more references that you didn’t understand at all came

it was to say the least frustrating

but his eyes always lit up when he spoke about muggle books or movies so you just let it slide

“tell me more about this spider-man guy” you said one day your head resting on your hand and you gazed at him expectantly

“okay so he was like this super smart teenager but he got bit by a radioactive spider which changed-“ renjun stopped mid sentence glaring at you slightly “you’re trying to distract me aren’t you?”

you raised your hands in the air defensively “what no-“

“oh my god you are! i’m so easy to trick how dare you,” he rambled “we’re getting back to work”

this was met by a groan

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“this is a bad idea jeno”

“you say that every time”

“that’s because all of your ideas suck”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

owls flew through the dining hall dropping down in front of students around you, delivering mail

your owl was one of the last

he had always been quite slow

jaemin was riffling through a package of salt water taffy his grandparents had sent him when your owl finally arrived

he was carrying the usual newspaper and weekly letter from your parents

you thanked your owl petting his head softly

he nuzzled into your palm before flying off again

when you moved the newspaper out of the way of your food you were surprised to see another letter under it

the envelope was completely blank except for your name

you lifted it up glancing at it curiously

“who is that from?” jaemin said chewing a pink taffy in his mouth

“i-um i don’t know?”

“do you have a secret boyfriend that you aren’t telling me about?”

jaemin was an idiot

you rolled your eyes at him and began opening the envelope cautiously hoping it wasn’t a prank

there was a single folded parchment inside

when you saw what it said your cheeks heated up and a small smile grew on your face

“wait, oh my god! you do have a secret boyfriend!” he exclaimed loudly getting annoyed glares from the people around you

he reached out trying to grab the paper out of your hands and read it but you pulled it out of arms reach, folding it and sticking your tongue out at him

you opened the letter under the table glancing to read it over once again

“i’m too shy to say this in person but i think you’re really cute. i hope you’re eating and sleeping well.” there was a tiny heart drawn beside that “have a great day!!”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“did you start your number chart?”

“i spent all night working on it” you told him rubbing your eyes

he gave you a disapproving look

“yn if you don’t sleep then you can’t concentrate and if you can’t concentrate then you can’t listen and if you can’t listen then you fail”

“well wasn’t that an enlightening roller coaster of words”

he huffed

you leaned over resting on him as you gave him an awkward side hug “you know i’m joking”

he nodded

wow your heart was beating way too fast right now

“i just wanted to work on it so i could impress-“ you. i wanted to impress you “the professor”

“i know yn but just take care of yourself okay” he was blushing now which you thought was cute

very very cute

you pulled away from him with a large smile taking your work out of your bag to show to him

“wait this actually really good” he said in happy surprise “yn you’re getting better”

“well yeah i have a good tutor”

he nudged you slightly

“shut up” renjun lightheartedly laughed

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

this time jaemin was ready

he was going to read one of the letters from your secret boyfriend

there was no stopping him

well you stopped him the last 4 times

but this time

there was no stopping him

when your owl flew towards you he quickly grabbed your mail before you could and began to open the letter tossing your newspaper at you

“HEY” you yelled ready to jump the table to stop jaemin but it was too late

“i want to make a fragile human connection in the vast and unfeeling infinity of chaotic universe with you,” jaemin read the letter out loud proceeding to scrunch his face up when he finished

“what the fuck was that? is that what you and your secret boyfriend talk about? science shit?” he tossed the letter to you which you grabbed quickly and smiled at the tiny stars they had drawn along the page

“i think it’s cute” you spoke softly, adoration in your tone

“i can’t believe my best friend is a nerd”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“I DID IT” you said loudly as soon as you saw renjun in the library only to be shushed by at least 10 students at once

“you did! i’m so proud of you” his voice was a lot quieter probably trying to not get everyone to hate him

you sat down in the chair beside him which he already had pulled out and placed your essay down in front of him

“i mean it’s only an acceptable but it’s good for me y’know” you rambled on shyly his eyes shone bright at your accomplishments

“it’s great yn” he encouraged “we should um”

he looked away from you awkwardly

“hmm?”

“we should uh go to hogsmeade this weekend to celebrate?” renjun couldn’t look you in the eyes and he felt as if he was going to combust “i mean only if you want to if you don’t that’s fine too no pressure”

“you’re rambling” you giggled

“sorry i-“

“i’d love to go to hogsmeade with you”

his shoulders relaxed and he finally looked at you  smiling with his eyes

your heart was blessed that day

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“i can’t believe you have a date”

“shut up it’s not date”

“it totally is”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

it was quite cold the day you and renjun had planned to go to hogsmeade

okay really cold

and there was renjun standing outside leaning against a wall with his ravenclaw scarf pulled up just past the tip of his nose, hands in his coat pocket, shivering

you were late

and running through the halls

you yelled sorry’s as you pushed past slow moving students hoping you hadn’t kept renjun waiting long

you saw him standing in the cold somehow the small boy was looking even tinier than usual

“renjun” you yelled out waving a hand in the air so he could see you even though you were the only one around

his head lifted up from his scarf and you noticed his smile as he stopped leaning and walked towards you

“you haven’t been waiting long have you?”

“no don’t worry yn i just got here”

that was a lie

you could tell by the red tint on his cheek and the tip of his nose and also the occasional shiver

“liar” you said reaching towards his cheek to place your hands on them to see how cold they were “you’re freezing injunnie”

you couldn’t tell if he was blushing or if he had just gotten colder

“your hands are just warm” he protested moving your hands away from face and back in between the both of you

you both stood there for a second your hands in his until he realized what he was doing

he took a large step back

to your disappointment

“we should-um let’s get going?” he mumbled into his scarf

which by the way was very cute

“lets”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

renjun’s hands were waving around and he explained stories from the muggle world

and it seemed as though other wizards at tables beside yours had been listening as well

“okay so then get this,” renjun said dramatically and loudly “the sent him to england to be executed but he was abducted by pirates and brought back home”

the girl at the table to the right of you gasped

renjun shrunk back in his chair embarrassed realizing others were listening his hands quickly were placed down on the table

“don’t be shy” you encouraged him placing one of your hands on his “you get really excited when you talk and it makes people want to listen”

“oh” he looked down at your hands and then back up at you

“when he got back home there was a funeral for his kind of girlfriend but like not really cause he told her he didn’t love her...”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“today was nice”

“yeah it was”

“we should do it again some time”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

you opened the envelope the owl had brought you

“i hope these letters brighten your day even a little because you’re beautiful when you smile and when you don’t, you’re beautiful all the time..”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“i can’t do it i’m going to fail” you whined while trying to make a particularly hard chart, beginning to scribble down the page

renjun quickly snatched your quill out of your hands and placed it down beside him

“you’re getting better yn, you’re not going to fail” his hands moved to your shoulders as he tried to motivate you looking you straight in the eyes

“but this is so hard injunnie,” you reaching for your quill back but he took his hands off your shoulders and moved it farther away

“you’re not getting it back until you say something positive”

“i don’t have anything positive to say, i’m going to fail and my parents are going to disown me and i’ll have to live in a shack”

renjun laughed at how ridiculous you sounded

he pointed to a line of work on your paper “what do you do after that?”

you muttered an answer lacking any confidence

“that’s right yn” he clapped shocking you

“wait really!?”

“yeah really see you’re going to pass” he was hyping you up and it was working

“i’m going to pass!”

“you can do this!”

“i’m going to get an outstanding!”

“yes you are!”

“i’m going to do better than you!”

“you see now you’re going too far”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

mail day is what you looked forward to every week filled with joy at the thought of receiving a letter from the anonymous person

as soon as it arrived you basically ripped it open startling jaemin

leaving a long tear in the letter but it was still easy to see

“your determination is admirable”

your heart swelled when you read the words, carefully folding it and placing it back in the envelope to make sure it didn’t get hurt

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“what the fuck man step up your game”

“i thought it was good?”

“you told her that her determination was admirable what kind of weird ass flirting is that”

“okay okay fine now that you say it out loud...”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

full of anticipation for what today’s letter would say your leg bounced up and down

your owl dropped the letters in front of you and you opened it slowly learning from your mistake last time

“are you pikachu? because you’re shockingly beautiful” is all it said inside

what the fuck is a pikachu?

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“hey renjun”

“yeah?”

“do you know what a pikachu is?”

he chocked on air, coughing into his arm

“what? why- why um do you need to know?”

“i got a letter yesterday and it had the word but i couldn’t figure out what it was so i assumed it was a muggle thing, it is a muggle thing right?”

“yeah, a pikachu is a pokémon”

“wow very helpful thank you”

he laughed embarrassed “i forgot you didn’t know about any of that, pokémon are like tiny cartoon monsters”

oh so they were comparing you to a monster

yay

that made you feel so great

“pikachu is an electric type”

“oh” you mumbled sadly

renjun automatically noticed your mood drop and quickly tried to stumble to fix it “i um- i mean he’s- um- pikachu is one of the cute ones?”

you could tell he was trying to cheer you up so you smiled at him

“thank you renjun”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

you kept the letters by your bed there were about 15 now the recent ones reading

“you must be magical, because I've fallen under your spell.” (obviously you were magic they were magic too)

“are you the moon? because even when it’s dark you still seem to shine” (most letters had been space related which you found really cute)

“you must be in honeydukes, cause wow, you're really sweet” (okay this one was nice)

the most recent one “you’re an 11/0 because your beauty is undefined” would have been nice if it didn’t remind you of how awful numbers were

getting letters everyday really had made your life more interesting

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“i wonder who’s writing these, do you know who’s writing these jaemin?”

“why would i know who your secret boyfriend is?”

“because you know everything”

“i know it’s such a burden sometimes”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“are you even going to tell them it’s you?”

“i think i would probably die”

“there’s worse ways to go”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

with every session your grades were getting higher and the closer to owl’s it became

you sat with renjun in your usual spot in the library for one of your last tutoring sessions

this should have made you happy but it didn’t

you wanted more time with renjun

but the only way you knew how to talk to him was through studying and the occasion celebratory trips whenever your grade rose

“did you get number 7 on page 378?”

you watched his mouth move but you couldn’t process what he was saying too lost in your thoughts

“yn are you even paying attention?”

“most definitely”

“you liar”

you sighed

“i’m just going to miss you that’s it- miss this”

“yeah me too”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“are you a Snitch? because you're the finest catch here.” today’s letter read with a tiny broom and golden snitch drawn messily in the corner

you smiled

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“you have to tell them man”

“i can’t it’ll be so embarrassing”

“come on, no it won’t they like them”

“you have no proof”

“i see them smile every time they open one”

“well what if they don’t like me”

“like that’s even possible don’t you guys meet up like everyday”

“it’s not everyday and it’s for tutoring”

“is that why i’ve seen you on a date”

“i’ve told you a million times it wasn’t a date”

“but you wanted it to be”

“well yeah”

“then tell them, it will work out and if it doesn’t you can dye my hair pink”

“but you’d look good with pink hair?”

“oh why thank you”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

it was the day before your arithmancy owl

you were panicked

because of renjun’s help you had been receiving straight e’s

you were both immensely proud

you paced back and forth in the hufflepuff common room frantic students panicking around you

you needed a walk

you opened the door to the common room

and there was renjun looking like he was about to knock a piece of paper in his hands

“hi?” you said slightly confused but very happy to see him nonetheless

“oh yn hi i was-“ he seemed very awkward in front of you his hand fidgeting slightly and his leg bouncing you assumed it was just nerves for exams “i was just coming to see you”

“i was going for a walk do you want to join?”

he nodded

“so are you ready for your owl’s?” you asked trying to make conversation as you walked

and also clear up the tense atmosphere that renjun was creating

“i think i’ll do well i’ve been studying a lot recently at dinner and in between classes but i’m still worried y’know”

“yeah i get it, i’m worried because i could actually fail” you laughed

“hey i thought we talked about this” his voice was finally light and joking

it was comfortable again

“i know my goal is still to beat you and mark my words it will happen”

“i’m sure it will” he agreed without even a hint of sarcasm

“finally i get the recognition for the genius i am”

he laughed fiddling with he paper in his fingers

“what’s that you have?” you asked gesturing to the paper and he froze going stiff

“it’s um-“ he stuttered out “its um nothing”

you stopped in front of him clearly not buying it

“okay it’s not nothing” he lifted up the letter as if he was making a decision and then held it out to you looking away

“just don’t hate me okay?”

this confused you

why would you ever hate him?

you cautiously took the paper from his hands giving him a curious look and opened it slowly while he looked at the ground

“are you using the confundas charm or are you just naturally mind blowing?”

no way

this couldn’t be happening

you knew you were dumb but not this dumb

of course he was the one writing the letters

holy shit renjun was writing the letters

“renjun i-“ you started and he looked at you shyly preparing for rejection

“i can’t believe you wasted your final note on that”

wait what?” his eyes widened as he took the paper back looking at it “but jeno helped me write it”

“didn’t you say jeno was an idiot?”

“well yeah, i guess his other idea wouldn’t work either”

you quirked an eyebrow

“what other idea?”

he pulled a second piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to you

you laughed a little as you opened this one

“will you go out with me?” it read

your smile grew at least 100x it’s size

“i dunno this one seems like a pretty good idea to me”

“really?”

“really.”

“i guess that means i don’t get to try idea three”

you giggled “what’s idea three?”

“this,” he leaned in to kiss you gently

he had meant for it to be just a peck but as soon as he moved away you tugged on his robes pulling him in again

“i think that one was my favorite idea” you said as your forehead rested against his

“mine too.” he breathed softly

“was that jeno’s idea as well?”

“no that one was completely mine”

━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* 

[simonsrosebud]

maybe 3, 16, or 18 on the angst ones??? im in a mood

NOT CANON IN THE KALTON AU

it’s may when dalton breaks up with kevin.

it’s right before their practice of the year when kevin catches dalton’s call.  he stops in the hall on the way to the lounge to answer it.  “hey, what’s up?  i’m about to go change out, but want me to come around after?”

“um, i think, maybe, it’s better if you don’t, kevin.”

and he frowns.  “why, what’s wrong?  are you okay?”

“i just, i’m going through some things right now, and i just think it’s better if i were to do it alone.”

“oh... well, you know i’m always here.  just call me later?”

“kevin...”

kevin’s heart starts beating faster.  “yeah?”

“i don’t just mean alone for a day.”

kevin leans back against the wall.  “what... what do you mean?”  he whispers.

“i mean alone as in, um... without a boyfriend.”

no.  “dalton, whatever it is, i-i’ll do better, i promise.”

dan is the only other person at the stadium yet, and stops in the doorway to the girls locker room when she hears the conversation.  she doesn’t want to pry, but if she’s right, and what’s about to happen really happens then she doesn’t want to leave kevin here alone.

“i’m sorry, kevin-“

“no, hey, please-“

“i-i gotta go.”

“dalton, please!”  but the line is already dead, and kevin doesn’t mean to, but he drops his phone in the process of turning and pressing his forehead against the wall.

he tries holding everything in, but he can feel himself starting to panic, and when dan turns him around with a gentle “it’s okay” he nearly crumples because it’s not okay.  he doesn’t know what’s going on.

dan drives him over to dalton’s apartment, and thank god kevin has a key, but when he gets inside it’s still and quiet.  and the coffee maker is gone and the closet is open and near empty.  the chargers next to the bed are gone and that’s when kevin drops to his knees and presses his hands to the floor because dalton up and left for the summer without warning.

he’s gone, and kevin can’t do anything about it. 

he lets out a sob, followed by heavy breathing and a weight so deep in his chest that he can’t get up.  his hands are shaking over his mouth, and his vision is blurry before he squeezes his eyes shut.

he takes a deep breath, but his exhale is a sob, and he leans forward with his arms around his stomach.

he can’t breathe.

dan comes to find him a few minutes later, and when she tries putting her arms around him he sounds like he’s in pain.  she pulls him upright to lean on her instead.  he clings like his life depends on it, hands clenched in the back of her t-shirt.

when she gets him up enough to get him back to the suite, she makes him promise he’ll be okay before making it to the stadium.  she’s a little bit late for practice, and by the time she gets onto the court neil already started.  it’s supposed to be a captains practice, so she gives him credit for taking over as vice captain.

“where’s kevin?”

“last minute appointment with betsy.”

neil nods.  he knows better than to want to ask.

dan checks the time every ten minutes it feels.  she needs this to be over.

meanwhile, kevin’s lying on the sofa, staring at the ceiling.  a weight back in his chest and tears silently crawling from his eyes.

he just wants to feel numb.

he looks to the kitchen.

kevin drinks.  he drinks so much that he throws up.

he wants to be numb, but it’s not working.  which is why he drinks some more.

wymack comes by at the end of practice and calls dan over after watching everyone shuffle out.  “kevin?”

she hesitates.  “um, dalton broke up with him right before practice, and up and left for the summer before we could get to his place.  he-he was a mess, coach, he could barely function.  probably on the verge of a panic attack.”

and that peeks his attention in a different way that the first thing did, because he curses under his breath and turns.  “you left him alone?  at the tower?”  she nods, and he curses again.  “come on, fast, danielle!”  she doesn’t usually see coach running for no reason, which makes her high tail it to his car.

wymaca rambles a bit on the way there.  “every time i’ve seen that kid have a meltdown without dalton to rely on it was before they were together, and it always ended with alcohol.”  his fingers tapped on the wheel.  “i don’t fucking care if he breaks sobriety so long as he’s not dying of fucking alcohol poisoning right now.  i know him.  i know how much he loves that fucking kid.  he can not be alone right now.”

and dan can’t tell if he’s seething or worried out of his mind, or both.  but either way, she hasn’t seen him like this since neil went missing and kevin told them it probably wasn’t an accident.

womack has keys to all of their suite’s for emergencies, but kevin’s door is open.  andrew and neil were straight on their way to columbia from practice, so he’s the only one there.

wymack bursts in, and kevin’s drunk out of his mind sitting on the floor against the cabinets.  he shakes his head when he sees his father, and stands.  dan doesn’t think he could make it across the room if he tried.

“m’fine, m’fine!” he leans back against the counter.  “s’probably my fault, anyway.”

he reaches for a bottle of vodka on the counter, and when wymack beats him to it he tries grabbing it.  “come on.”

“no-“

“please!  dan, i-“

“no, kevin!”  wymack is holding him back, a hand on his chest and the other around him to try and keep him still as he pushes against wymack.

“just don’t wanna feel!”  kevin cries out.  he goes limp against wymack and starts to crumble.  “hurts so bad, i just- i just wanna be numb from it all.”  his voice is weak, and he sinks to the ground.  he covers an arm around his face.  “please just take it away.”  he begs.  “please, please, help.  i-i can’t, i can’t,” he sobs.  dan drops beside him and pulls his head to her shoulder.  “i love him so much,” he whispers.  “i dunno what to do.”

she casts a pleading look to wymack, because all she knows to do is rub his back and try to shush him to calm down.

“hey, look at me.”  wymack takes kevin’s chin, gently.  dan backs off.  “this is going to suck.  but you’re going to get up tomorrow, and you’re going to call him up and demand an explanation.  i don’t care if you have to fly to his house, dammit, you’ll do it.  because after your mother left there wasn’t a day i didn’t regret not going after her, okay?  cause look what she left me, kevin.”  he raises an eyebrow.  “you.”  he sticks a finger to kevin’s chest.

kevin nods.  “i want him so bad.”

“then you’ll go after him.  whether it works out or not.”

kevin sleeps on wymack’s sofa that night.

and in the morning, he’s woken up by knocking on the door.

kevin’s head is pounding, but he already threw up everything he could last night.

he trudges to the door, but the person behind it makes him take a step back.  he wants to jump forward and hug him, but it hurts him too much to actually want to go through with it.

“what are you doing here,” he whispers.  he crosses his arms.  he probably smells like alcohol and vomit.

dalton looks desperate, and he falters on what he wants to say, so kevin jumps in again.  “can i just… can you just tell me what i did wrong?”  he bites the inside of his cheek.  he knows it’ll be easy getting him emotional what with just waking up.  “i know i’ve got baggage, but just-just tell me why.  cause i just woke up and i’m all torn up and hungover, so i-i just need to know.  please.”

dalton frowns.  “i… you promised you’d stop drinking-“

“and you promised you wouldn’t hurt me!”  kevin’s voice cracks.  “any other lies left to tell me?”  and he takes a deep breath.  “please, dalton, i just need to know why you’d fucking do this to me!”  he messily wipes his eye with the cuff of his sleeve.

“you left without explanation, and-and i… i feel like i’m always going through something, but you’re the reason i’ve come out just fine!  i just wanna be that for you, but instead you thought breaking up would be the better option?  how-how do you think that makes me feel?  to think that my boyfriend doesn’t think i can comfort him?  that he’d rather be a-alone?”  he’s starting to get worked up, and wipes his eyes again.  he takes a deep breathe.

dalton has tears in his eyes.  “i’m sorry,” he whispers.  “i’m so, so, sorry.  that wasn’t… i didn’t mean that.  that’s not what i think, i didn’t mean to leave you thinking that.  and,” he looks away for a second.  “can i just explain?  from the beginning?  i-i want you, i don’t wanna ruin this, and i hope i haven’t already.”

you haven’t.  i just want you.

but kevin lets him in.  he doesn’t sit, but he at least lets him inside and closes the door.  he’s sure his father is hiding out in his office or bedroom.  he’s a light sleeper, and they weren’t exactly being quiet.

dalton starts.  “um, my grandmother died yesterday morning, and my grandfather was admitted to the hospital almost right after, and-and my family doesn’t know why,” he says.  “and i was a mess, but i knew you had practice- i would’ve gone home right away regardless, but i-i didn’t wanna put all my family problems on you, cause you’ve already got enough.  but, i, um, i was almost to maryland and i wanted- i knew i had to turn around, cause i was a fucking asshole, but it was already late and i probably would’ve fallen asleep at the wheel, so i stopped home to sleep for a few hours and now…”  he meets kevin’s eyes again.

“i just can’t lose you, and i was stupid and a dick, and you don’t deserve to be treated like this.  kevin please, i’m… i’m so sorry.”  kevin notices how dalton holds back on reaching out to him.  “is there any way i can fix it?”

kevin looks to the side, arms crossed.  “you’ve probably dealt with so much fucked shit with me and my family,” my foxes, “family problems don’t scare me, d. i love you so much that i sat on my knees in your apartment having a panic attack… i… i don’t wanna do the whole thing where i take a few days away from you,” he says.  “i can be there for you like you’ve done for me, i swear, but you just, like, you have to talk to me. cause i can’t do that again.  so many things went through my head that i can’t go through again.  i-i can’t be left so broken that it makes me wanna be numb enough to drink.”

this time, he lets dalton wipe a tear under his eye.  he speaks quiet.  “i’m humiliated by that.  i never want to break my sobriety again.”

dalton nods.  “i’m so sorry i broke my promise.”

“mine too.”

“no.”  he shakes his head.  “that’s different.  and i should’ve talked to you, told you why i did what i did, even if it was stupid.”

kevin nods.  “can you hold me?” he whispers.

dalton doesn’t waste time, and wraps his arms around kevin, who sinks into his embrace.  “i’ll make you a new promise.  one i can keep.”  dalton speaks into kevin’s hair.  “i promise to communicate better and talk to you, no matter what.”

kevin slides his arms around dalton’s neck.  “i promise i’ll call someone if i ever get the urge to drink alone again.”  and then, “i’m sorry about your grandmother.”  he knows which one it is, too, because his grandmother on his mother’s side passed when dalton was a child.  this one kevin met a few months back, even.

he pulls back, and cups dalton’s face.  “i’m here for you, okay?”

dalton nods, and he tilts his head into kevin’s hand.  “i don’t think it’ll hit me for a while.  the funeral is in three days.”  he pauses.  “you don’t have to, but-“

“i’ll be there with you.”

dalton cups his hand around kevin’s on his face and brings his knuckles to his lips.  “i’ll make all of this up to you.”  kevin kisses his forehead.  “i love you,” dalton whispers.

i’m now realizing i forgot to include angst #16 aka “you’ve changed” but it’s probably better for my own sanity that i didn't bc that one just makes me think of “they break up and run into each other months/years later” which i can NOT do to my boys LOL

[darksass69]

Damien sat behind his desk, his hand running through his hair as he let out a soft sigh.

Works been harder than normal, new years was coming up which meant good and bad things.

For starters; the cons, there were a lot of those, but Damien was looking forward to the Pros of things.

A small smile twitched on Damien's face, he leaned back in his office chair and crossed his arms. William was coming back any day now, and Damien was so really to see his best friend once again.

A soft knock came from the other side of the door, making Damien's head perk up and over, before he could respond the door had opened and his sister walked in, a smile on her face.

"Damien!" She shouted, happily walking over to Damien's desk and put her hands on it, "I have exciting news!"

Damien raised an eyebrow, but nodded, "please. In lighten me." Honestly if Damien was being honest, he could care less about his sister's rambles, but forced himself to sit back up properly, his hands on his face with a soft smile.

"So..." Celine started, her hands tucking behind her back, "I was thinking. Me and Mark wise... We've... We've settled things."

Damien nodded, he wasn't sure if this is good or bad, he knew Celine and Mark were going through a bumpy road, but he never though that Celine would end things. "So you ended things with him?" He asked, his ankles crossing.

"No! Actually, the opposite!" Celine exclaimed, her hands glueing together. "I dunno what changed my mind! Maybe the affair with William- but I really think me and Mark stick!" She added on, and Damiens mouth dropped.

"i- what???" He asked, quickly rising from his seat.

Celine squeaked and quickly covered her mouth. "That wasn't meant to slip out! I just-..." She paused, her hands going down, as she licked her lips, "I needed a fresh start. Forget you heard anything. See you at Marks party tonight." She took a envelop from her purse, handing it to Damien with a frown.

Damien sighed and swallowed thickly, he felt so sick. Before he could question anything, Celine was out the door.

Damien opened the envelope, it just said some stuff about Marks party, it was normal, it was new years after all.

----_-_-_-_-_--_-_-

Damien shivered as he knocked on Marks door, it opened and he was hit with warm air.

"Damien! What a surprise!" Benjamin yelled, grabbing Damien's arm and pulling him in, "whoo! I'm a little tipsy, sorry about that sir, you shall make yourself at home. After all, this is your home y'know!"

Damien nodded, watching Benjamin disappear behind the crowed. Damien wasnt normally the drinking kind, but tonight, he was ready to let loose.

Damien huffed as he pushed passed the people, trying to get to the table, Mark wouldn't mind if he took a bottle.

Damien grabbed a bottle of wine, and started pushing passed more people, he headed up the stairs, less and less people crowed around him, and soon he made it to the balcony, but only found Mark and Celine out there.

"Oh bullsit! You can't fuck someone by mistake!" Mark yelled, and Damien tensed up, maybe this was a bad time.

"Fuck you! You're always head deep in your work!" Celine yelled back, and wiped her eyes, her attention turning to Damien, making her huff.

"Damien? How long have you been standing there?" Celine asked, her voice quieting down, but her face getting angrier.

"I-" Damien didn't get any time to answer, becuase Mark was storming up to him.

"Did you know about this??? What Celine did with William??" Mark asked, his eyes welling up with tears.

"No! no! You've got it all wrong!" Damien yelled, and Mark grabbed him and shoved him to the ground, grabbing Celine's arm and started dragging her away.

Damien hit the ground, but luckily his bottle was still fine. Damien sniffed and drank some of the bottle, he was done in ln all honestly, he just needed to get away, he didn't want to be put into this mess.

"Bully. Mark looks mad, what did ya do?" A familiar voice asked, making Damien look up and over at William.

"William!" Damien shouted, quickly getting off the ground and let the bottle drop, happily running into his arms.

William stumbled back with a laugh, making Damien cry softly, he hasn't seen William in months, but it felt like years.

"Calm down, Damien, I'm not a dead person walking around," William spoke with a smile, and Damien nodded, pulling away from the hug.

"is... Is it true you... Slept with Celine...?" Damien asked, and William immediately tensed up his shoulder shaking.

"Let's talk about this outside, shall we?" William mumbled, grabbing Damien's arm and dragged him outside.

Damien swallowed thickly, thinking he crossed a line, he shouldn't have said anything. "Im sorry- you dont have to talk about it."

William paused, letting go of Damien and let out a shaky breath. "You know... When... When... downtown there was this thing, and you could cross dress?" William asked, his eyes staring into the sky.

Damien shifted with a nod. "Yeah, a choke months ago, it was the day before you left," he shuffled up to the side of the balcony, his elbows resting against it as he stared at William.

"i went with Celine... I got.. a little drunk," William explained with a smile, and Damien laughed.

"You were all over the news, you got really drunk," Damien mumbled, and William shoved him with his elbow, making Damien stumble with a laugh.

"Anyway," William mumbled and cleared his throat, his hands glueing together tightly, "I uh... I.. slept with Celine... Becuase... Becuase I thought she was you."

The two sat in silence, Damien could swear he went deaf. "What .."

William nodded, and turned to Damien, his hands slowly reaching out and grabbed Damien's. "I... I really like you, Dames..."

Damien happily smiled, and started to cry, making William tense up and quickly start wiping away his tears.

"sorry- sorry! I knew I shouldn't have said anything!" William yelled, and Damien laughed.

"Tears of joy," Damien hummed, and stepped on his tippy toes, his hands going to Williams cheeks as he lightly pecked Williams lips, "I like ya too. Even if you slept with my sister."

[jinnyu]

Number 51 with Bede and a male/enby reader? :O! I rarely find anyone who's willing to write for non female coded readers so im really glad I found your blog!

Used artwork credit here

A/N: i got the name of the prompt wrong but we dont speak of that— ANYWHO, im glad i could get the chance to write this for you then, anon! Yeah i rarely came across blogs that are gender neutral about their imagines too :/ hopefully you'll enjoy this though!

(7,915 Word Count!)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Bede wasn't quite the type to show his concern over others, even when he got close to you and developed feelings for you. He's not used to express his emotions other than being cocky and looking down upon others. But this time, it was different.

You promised him that you'll help him out for the day at his gym, considering its the time where numerous of challengers comes barging in the stadium, asking for the badge that'll get them to the next gym leader. Bede didn't mind them, he never did. It was just that some of them were starting to get to his nerves; challengers bringing their toxitricity to the stadium and using sound based moves, blaring right in his ears— oh for Arceus's sake, let the battle end already, the poor boy's ears are becoming somewhat sensitive if they kept doing that repeatedly.

That being said, he waited and waited for you to come, but eventually, you never did. He pondered over what happened to that awfully irritating (yet lovable) rival of his as he walked out of his gym, telling his assistants to close it for the day and inform the challengers to screw off. He got better things to do than to listen to those damned pokemon singing and spatting poison out of their mouth, hurting his little fairy friends.

"Oh whats with you today" The white haired boy murmured under his breath, looking at his rotom phone and deciding to call you. Sure he has thought of the many possibilities of you being busy due to your new Champion of Galar title, but never even once you bailed him like this— or so he thought.

A heavy string of huffing was heard on the other side of the phone, which makes Bede rise his eyebrow and question about what in Galar are you doing at the moment. His mouth stayed shut while waiting for you to ramble out your explanation, well, an explanation he deserves to know.

Why you ask? Because beneath that smug exterior of his, he's deeply concerned when it comes to you. Tell him a fake information that you've been defeated by some random kid and he'll immediately abandon his gym, looking all pissed and irritated as he stomp his way out of the place. Oh what he wouldn't do just to see your smile.

Though, would he admit that? No, even in the name of Arceus, he wont.

Then, finally you answered with voice indicating that you're slightly tired, "Oh, uh, B-Bede!!" You exclaimed, trying to sound as alright as you could. He could hear you dusting your clothes as you speak, Cinderace in the background chirping with other pokemon playing around the area. Oh boy, you have a lot of explaining to do.

The white haired boy tapped his foot against the ground , waiting for you to finish your sentence. He also asked his Galarian Rapidash to track your scent down, and lead him to you, in the most quickest way possible. You're probably having trouble with your pokemon again, or getting surrounded by your fans, one of the two.

Still, its most likely you're experiencing the first scenario, looking at how you're more active in the wild area rather than in cities. "Enough said, im going where you are right now," Bede said in a stern tone, making your eyes widen a tad bit. You didn't even get the chance to explain to him! You only greeted him and yet he's going to visit where you are right now? Holy Suicune, you're a mess.

"Stay there, dont move"

A sigh slipped past your lips as Bede hung up. Better get going and make yourself somewhat decent then. You were chasing a Galarian Zapdos, one of the legendary bird trio and it didn't go well. The lightning avian clearly lived up to its name by having a lightning speed under it's wings, which made you tumble down your bike a few times while trying to get close to the said legendary pokemon.

It's worth it though, now Zapdos is right infront of you with a soothe bell tied loosely around it's neck, lowering it's head down waiting for you to give it affection. Its cute really, and you wondered if Bede will like this newly captured pokemon of yours. On the other hand, he might not like the scratches you got from falling off your bike, and tripping over baby pokemons— no worries, no pokemon were harmed during this process of capturing Zapdos.

Of course it hurts when you tried to patch your wounds up, some of it were caused by the legendary electric bird itself as you were trying your best not to harm the said pokemon in the process of capturing it. Zapdos did express concern over you when it saw you slightly in a pinch trying to capture it though, and it tried to make you feel better by occassional nuzzling against you, sparking electricity in your hair.

Its never a dull moment in the wild area, Really.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Half an hour passed and your said knight in shining armo— i mean Bede- Bede finally arrived with his Galarian Rapidash.

His eyes widened the moment he saw you visibly being a mess, not minding about the legendary pokemon thats taking a seat beside you as an act of cheering you up. He looks irritated, annoyed and slightly pissed when he saw you not taking care of yourself properly— you never did, you're careless, the wounds will heal anyways and your pokemon will help it heal, thats why you didn't mind it much.

The fairy type gym leader immediately makes his way to you as his Rapidash follows close behind him, incase he needed assistance.

"You...What happened?"

Bede lifted your left arm up as you faced him while he was examining your wounds. You stayed quiet until he looks up at you again, Violet eyes locking with yours for a brief moment.

You didn't answer his question and you simply gestured at the legendary bird pokemon beside you, no other explanation can be better that that anyways, and you're not in the mood to waste your energy by talking too much.

Bede blinked a few times as he finally recognized that you have captured a Galarian Zapdos, the Galarian Zapdos that's said to rule over thunderstorms and making a nest between the electrifying clouds right before a storm starts. Basically the Zeus of Galar, if you will. He was quite amused to say the least, though he didn't expect less from the Champion, but risking your life just to capture a legendary? Yup, thats his rival alright, you and and that reckless stubborn head of yours, not to mention you're often oblivious to Bede's acts of care and affection, resulting in the white haired boy blushing intensely.

A sigh slipped past Bede's lips as he rubbed a potion over your wound, followed by a hiss of pain from your side. You wanted to yank your hand off his hold, "Bede, its alright, i can take care of myself" you muttered as you watched the male infront of you carefully spreading the healing liquid over your wounds, trying his best not to hurt you by doing so.

His Violet eyes looked up at you, then looked back down on your wound, not caring about your complaints.

"Let me take care of you," He said as he was preventing the subtle blush from slowly dusting his milky white cheeks; his fingers that were gently massaging that one specific area on your arm stopped before he checked for your other arm- which, you obliged and gave him your other arm to inspect without any hesitation.

What surprised you the most is that he muttered out those six specific words. The words that you thought would never leave past his lips whatsoever, and yet here you are sitting on a giant rock with him treating your wounds from before as he insisted on taking care of you.

Why does he care so much?

"Bede i said—" before you could continue his sentence, his grip on your arm suddenly tightened by a bit, afraid of you yanking your arm off.

"I want to take care of you." the tone he was using was so sweet, so kind and sincere as if its not Bede who said that; it was slightly shaky too, probably caused by him gradually becoming even more flustered by his honest feelings. This only made you smile warmly, seeing how well Bede is taking care of you— you just remembered that you two are supposed to be in the Fairy Type gym by now, helping the said gym leader with handling the oncoming bundles of challengers.

You, being the oblivious Champion that you are, laughed softly and nudged your cheek against his in an affectionately way while saying a light-hearted thank you along the way. You let the boy take care of you and your wounds as Zapdos stayed quiet by your side, observing the two of you and your actions. You're completely calm and amazed by Bede's knowledge when it comes to potions and healing stuff. Maybe you should learn a few things from him after this then.

Bede on the other hand was a complete mess. Oh how the tables have turned. Your little action of nuzzling against his cheek made him turn beet red; various shades of red covering his cheeks and spreading towards his ears. He avoided any eye contact with you, he knew better than to say anything and embarrass himself even more on the spot, so he stayed quiet, and let you do your silly little affectionate actions. He enjoyed it anyways— not that he'd admit it.

"D-dont do that so sudden next time."

He managed to croak out, voice slightly different from before caused by the amount of blood rushing to his face and ears, not to mention his heart thumping loudly in his chest. Arceus- this feeling is so sickeningly lovely, he hated it, and yet he also loved it. You replied with a soft 'Mhm' before he continues to treat your wounds.

Oh its never a dull moment with you.

[your-daily-dose-of-fandoms]

hey can you please write something about like.. Haganezuka x a reader whos from a noble family with close ties to the Ubuyashiki family and has beauty relative to a goddess? i know its super dumb. im really glad to see other people like this character and the way you write with him is amazing!

Thank you for requesting! As you can see I got a little carried away by this, I hope you don't mind that! I hope you enjoy, and if not, feel free to request again!

Hotaru Haganezuka x Noble! Reader

You're beautiful.

You've been told that by everyone for your whole life. Those taunting words, been following you since you were born.

For a woman it is better to be seen than heard.

Would your father say, during the dinner, as you'd spoken too much.

Well, aren't you pretty.

Would the men in the village say to you, while putting their finger under your chin to make you look at them.

You're pretty, pretty, pretty.

But you were so much more than that. You wanted to study, explore and see the world. You wanted to be so much more than just an another decoration on the prize shelf. You didn't want to become like your mother, just a wall rose, treated like another accomplishment for men. You needed a goal, or otherwise, you would lose yourself. You didn't want to learn the etiquette for your whole life, and then marry off to some old man in exchange of money. You wanted to choose your own fate by yourself.

So that's why you started to train. Train like your brothers, train like your father, train like every men in your family, train to your eventual death. You see, your family was a trusted bloodline of Ubuyashiki's family. For decades, your family's men have been fighting for the better world, fighting against the demons that once were one of us. You didn't want to just watch your brothers march up to their deaths without you. Maybe that was your excuse, but actually, you just wanted to prove yourself.

Luckily you were able to get help from Ubuyashiki. He, and the pillars taught you all the basics. They taught you how to breath, and along with all the fighting techniques and ways to keep your head calm, they taught you how not to be the slave of the etiquette. They taught you how to find yourself, from the mess they called a mind.

It was hard to keep your training as a secret, but it was even harder to break it up to your family that you'd be leaving for final selection. The last march of many young men and women. You don't remember much of it, only the fact that in the end of the day, you didn't have a home anymore.

As you got ready to take possibly the last steps of your life, Ubuyashiki gave you a gift. A simple fox mask, a habit he had picked up from Urokidaki, as he bid you a farewell as his daughter. And on you went on your journey, that was still in the beginning. But now you knew that you had something to fight for.

And this is why you were here now, looking at a man explaining about the handmade sword enthuastically, refusing to have any tea before he had explained every last bit of the said sword. You fixed the mask on your face, so any of your face wouldn't be seen, as you listened to the man's excited rambling. Hotaru Haganezuka, you've heard rumors of him, but you never believed them to be so accurate. The man was here to deliver your very first sword, and by the looks of it, he had done it pretty well. Finally, he finished his rambling, and took a good look at you.

"I wonder what color your sword will change to.. I hope to see blue or indigo-gray!! What style of breath are you?? Let's go inside! We must see the color it's going to turn into!" The man in front of you exclaimed, as he ran past you, almost hitting you, and head towards the indoors with the sword wrapped in clothing in his hands. He was bold on his actions, and you were taken back from it. Rarely no one who knew who you were treated you with such an ignorance and boldness.

Right, he didn't know who you were. Realizing the fact, you felt a wave or relief wash over you, as you realized the life you were about to take the first step towards to. The life where people didn't appreciate you by your looks, but your skills. You chuckled and made your way after him.

*

You held your breath, as the nichirin blade in your hands started to switch color. You stared intently at the sharp blade, it reflecting your fox mask on it, as you gasped. Instead of one color, the blade had now turned into two. Blue, and white, the top being blue and then slowly fading into white towards the handle. You gasped.

"Gahhh?!? Why do I always get the weird ones?!" You could hear Haganezuka yell in annoyance, as you turned to look at him, confusion written all over your face, not like he could see it though. He was fuming, the smoke coming out of his mask, as you smiled nervously. You didn't want to upset the short-tempered man.

"I-I'll go make some tea!" You stated, slowly leaving the nichirin blade on the floor, as you sprinted to the kitchen. As you had made it to your destination, you took off your mask, set it on the table, and held your face in your hands.

"What.. what just happened?" You could only question, as you slowly started to gather the ingredients for the tea. You were currently living in Ubuyashiki's spare house, which he had for some reason, but by now you already knew where everything was. Once in a week, when you were home, the kakushis would come and bring you some essentials. Ubuyashiki was taking a good care of you.

You were boiling some water, as Haganezuka stepped into the kitchen, now cooled down. You sighed in relief, but then you realized that you didn't have your mask on and panicked, grabbing it quickly and putting it back on.

Haganezuka deadpanned you, walking past your nervously sweating form, and taking a cup of tea for himself. He didn't mention anything about your face, even though he probably had already regognized you. You felt your heart thump.

"So that's why you were wearing that stupid mask", He stated, and you turned to look at him with a shocked look. He was drinking his tea, slightly lifting up his mask to drink it.

"Excuse me?! You're the one to talk!!" You stated, pointing at his ugly mask, that was probably covering even uglier face. You weren't sure how to feel about this man. He hadn't said anything about your face, but instead offended you by mocking the mask Ubuyashiki himself had made for you.

"Well at least I'm not trying to escape my past, by covering my face", He continued, taking an another sip. He was provoking you! What did he want to accomplish by that?

"But don't worry", He continued, placing his tea cup on the table, as it was already empty.

"I'm not interested in your background, nor in your face, I only want to make my swords", He finished, and you stood there, frozen in your place. You mouth was wide open, as you gaped at the swordsmith in front of you. You could bet he was smirking under that god damn mask of hi-

Before you could realize what was going on, you had already done it.

You had snatched away the man's mask, as it fell on the wooden floor with a loud clonk.

Time felt like it had stopped as you were now staring at sharp eyes of a shocked man. A long black hair was neatly pulled into a man-bun, few strands of hair framing his sharp features.

You gulped. This man was insanely handsome what the duck.

Not to mention, now you were fucked.

But before you could sprint away and yell for help, in hopes of someone hearing, or even dying before the man could catch you, you could only stay still and watch as Haganezuka raised his hand and grabbed your mask. You didn't have a chance to react, as he had already taken it off from your face, now getting a proper look of your face as well.

"Now we're even", He told as he picked up his mask from the floor, and turned around, about to walk out of the kitchen and towards the outdoor.

"Wait!" You called after him, and he turned to look at you, raising his eyebrow, as he adjusted the mask back on his face to hide his handsome face.

"When.. when will we meet again?" You asked, fiddling with the sleeve of your kimono. He shrugged in response.

"Probably when you've broken my blade and need a new one.." He started, stared into distance and then turned to lock his eyes with you.

"And that's not gonna be a pleasant meeting", He told, and you gulped and nodded. Then he left from the kitchen, leaving you to stand there stunned. This man really loved his swords more than anything. But you would have to break them to meet him again.. You sighed and held your head in your hands. This was going to be a troublesome situation.

[stormcrawler75]

For the prompt thingy, Reluctant Caretaker With Janus and Infant!Patton? (Aka sunshine pure baby and unqualified papa)

Characters: Janus, Patton, Virgil, mentions of Logan, Remus, and Roman

Warnings: Coma, drunk driving, bruises, stitches

“Unnnnnnnnn’caaaaaaaaa, ‘Anu!”

Janus groaned, cracking his eyes open and rubbing at his eyes sleepily. He glanced at his alarm clock and after blinking a few times, he groaned again when he saw just how early it was. “Fucking- ugh,” he muttered, rubbing his hand down his face. He sighed and got up, slowly walking out of the room.

“Unnnnnnnnn’caaaaaaaaa, ‘Anu!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Janus muttered, yawning so hard that his jaw clicked. He walked into the room that had been nothing but a guest room a few days ago - when things had still been normal and Janus didn’t have to worry about raising a baby - and to the old crib that he had gotten three splinters setting up. 

His nephew was standing up in the crib and looking up at Janus with wide eyes and a bright grin. He bounced up and down and made grabby hands at Janus. “Un’ca ‘Anu’, up! Up!”

Janus yawned and picked Patton up, bracing him against his hip. “Yes, Uncle Janus is up now. Though, the fact that either of us is up at four fifteen is a crime,” he told the one-year-old seriously. 

And in return for the great wisdom that he had given his nephew, Patton reached up and grabbed Janus’ nose. Well... Janus supposed that he had gotten worse feedback from people who he had given advice to.

“Alright now, no playing games now,” Janus hummed sleepily, gently moving Patton’s hand away and walking out of the used-to-be-a-guest-room. He glanced out the window and sighed. The stupid sun could already be seen peeking up over the horizon. “Are you hungry? Is that why you woke me up?”

“’anna ‘ee Daddy,”

Janus froze right at the top of the stairs, feeling like he had just been slapped. He had been so good pushing back and ignoring the heart-crushing grief, confusion, and helplessness that the last few days had brought. And with three words, his one-year-old nephew had almost completely toppled all the walls that Janus had put up to try and cope. Janus took a shaky breath, eyes burning with unshed tears. “I’m afraid that you can’t see your Daddy right now,” he said softly, walking down the stairs. “You’re living with me for now, Patton. I... will explain in the morning, okay?”

Patton gave him a look with so much of Virgil’s stubbornness that Janus almost let out a sob. Virgil had barely had Patton for a year and his son was already so much like him. 

“For now, let’s think of better things,” Janus said with forced chipper in his voice. He walked into the kitchen grabbed a small box of cheerios from his cupboard. “Even though it’s far too early to be up and awake, five o’clock is also the time when the old cartoons come on. I used to watch these shows with your daddy when I was just a toddler and he was your age.” He managed a weak smile as he walked into the living room. “Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“Yes,” Patton chirped, grinning at Janus widely that wrinkled the stark white bandaid that he had gotten at the hospital. “Yes!”

Janus chuckled, sitting down in his favourite old armchair, shifting Patton so he was in one arm so he could open up the box of cheerios. “Did you watch these shows with your daddy? Or did Mr. Lawyer show his son more serious shows? Educational programs?” He got a blank stare in response and decided that it was far too early in the morning to use big words with his nephew. So instead he just switched the channel until he found old reruns of ‘The Bugs Bunny and Tweety Show”.

Besides, Patton’s excited cry of, “T’eety!” made Janus think that maybe this wasn’t the first time he had watched these shows.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Janus’ shoes clicked against the hospital tiles, the only sound in the eerily quiet hallway. He could hear distant coughs and the quiet sound of people talking but here, in the long term care section of the hospital at eight o’clock in the morning, there wasn’t much noise. And it made Janus so sad. His poor baby brother didn’t belong in a place like this.

He stopped outside the last door in the hallway, knocking gently at the half-open door. “Good morning,” he said softly, walking in and draping his coat over one of the chairs. He sat down with a sigh. “I’m sorry that I’m here so early but your son woke me up at four AM. I left him with my friends so I can come to see you. Please don’t worry about your son, Virgil. Logan and Remus are good people and they already love Patton." He took off his bowler hat and put it in his lap, tapping his finger against it gently. “Do you have anything to say about that?”

Of course Virgil didn’t. Though, Janus supposed that he couldn’t be too upset with his brother. It was rather hard to speak with tubes down your throat. And the fact that Virgil was in a coma made it even harder, Janus was sure.

Virgil was lying completely still on his hospital bed, looking strangely peaceful. He didn’t seem bothered at the dark purple bruises on his cheeks or the stitched-up cut on his forehead. And then Janus remembered how he had looked a few days ago when he had first been brought to the hospital and had to look away.

“Your friend Roman came to my house the other day,” Janus said, forcing himself to continue. He had to speak talking. He feared what would come out of his mouth if he didn’t. “I must say, Roman may not be as interesting as his brother but he is a good lawyer. He’s pushing me to press charges and he is assuring me that I would have a very good case.” He snorted and shook his head. “Though, I suppose that you don’t have to be a good lawyer to know that driving while is against the law.”

When there was no response to his words, Janus sighed and reached forward, gently putting a hand over Virgil’s bruised one. “Do you remember how happy I was when you made me Patton’s Godfather,” he whispered softly and with a slight tremble to his words. “Well, I change my mind. Virgil... I have no idea how to care for a baby. You have to wake up so you can raise your son. Please.” He laughed and blinked, vision turning a little blurry. “I am begging, Virgil. You have to wake up. I can’t do this. I don’t know how to do this.”

The only response Janus received was the steady beeping of Virgil’s heart monitor. It looked like Janus was on his own for now.

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