#keep your hopes up bc im fighting college

[baksokon]

YOU ARE SO COOL ANS AWESOME I LOVE YOUR ARTSTYLE SM

AHAHSHAGSGGS THANK YOUUU <333

THANK YOU SMM THIS MEANS ALOT TO ME, it makes me happy to see someone liking my artstyle this much :'D

also your tags on my art!!! rlly made me smile!!! ty!!!

[prodsh00ky]

from the cradle to the grave

pairing: vampire!seonghwa x reader

warnings: use of words probably, crying, mentions of blood, death, war and violence, seonghwa creeps the reader out by breaking into their house, deja vu era seonghwa look combined with 2023 long haired hwa bc this should be a warning, some angsty stuff, fluff if u squint really really hard, past lives (sort of), reader is referred to using they/them pronouns but i might have left something that suggest they’re female/afab in the way; please let me know if there’s more

wc: ~4.6k words

notes: i tried to finish this in time for halloween (it was sitting in my drafts since 2021...) so this was supposed to be a spooky season fic. it didn’t work but here it is anyways! hope you guys like it. im a big vampire enthusiast and a bIG seonghwa enthusiast which makes me the biggest vamp!hwa agenda supporter so lets gooo

well, at least your gut feeling was probably right.

these last days have been… weird, to say the least. every time you’d go back to your apartment after college you felt like you were being observed, maybe even followed. it was like there was someone always behind you or around the place you were in a way that made you feel like you were never alone indeed, and you didn't like the shivers you got from it. to top it off, the whole thing was giving you even more bad nightmares than the usual; the most recent ones involved big mansions from the eighteenth century or something, a lot of fighting, blood and a pair of piercing eyes staring into your soul. the worst part was that you always forgot in the course of your day that you were having them, only remembering when waking up in a cold sweat from a new one. your friends told you it probably was due to the time of the year since spooky season just began, and you thought it might be it; a scary vibe was nothing less than expected from fall.

but the tall figure standing behind your favorite armchair that welcomed you home seconds ago after you locked your apartment’s door told you otherwise. you automatically move to grab your floor lamp to defend yourself.

“who are you and what are you doing here?” 

“so you’re feisty. i should keep track of that.”

his voice is deep but also smooth. he’s probably a head and a half taller than you and wears a white shirt with a v cut, black trousers paired with a black blazer and his neck is adorned with a sole silk ribbon. when he turns to you, you get to see that his long black hair would probably reach his silver pendant earrings if it wasn't tucked into a fancy hairstyle with a silver pin holding the front and that his eyes are sharp and piercing (and strangely similar with the ones in your recent nightmares, but this time they feel familiar and not frightening as usual), just as the rest of his facial features. he is probably the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. but you still have no idea of who he is or how he got inside your house, so you quietly get your phone and dial 911.

“i'm going to repeat it just once more. who are you, what are you and how the fuck have you gotten inside?” he seems too entertained eyeing you from head to toe for some seconds, but he quickly wakes from his apparent trance and answers you.

“right. i'm sorry for the rudeness... and for the invasion, for that matter, although this apartment was virtually 100% accessible for me. oh, and for the last few days too, but i'm afraid the observing was necessary. i’m park seonghwa, one of the royal eight, and deeply pleasured to know you.” he bows lightly and opens his mouth to continue and it shows you a glimpse of long sharp canine teeth. it makes you interrupt him.

“so you’re the one who’s following me? know what, it doesn’t matter actually, i’m calling the cops.” you turn to open the door and get outside, however the keys aren't in the door handle anymore. with the lamp still in your hold you try to open the knob forcefully, adrenaline beginning to fill you due to despair, but the jittery sound of the keys dangling makes you turn to the stranger once more. he holds the keys with his left hand, the right one leaning in the armchair.

“forgive me for my ways, but calling the police won’t be needed and after you listen to me you’ll see why. i’m not here to hurt you in any way, it’s actually… quite the opposite. i was following you because me and my brothers needed to reach you, and after i finally found you i wanted to know who we were looking for. if you’re willing to give me some of your time, i’ll be happy to explain everything i can for now. please?”

considering your options, either you jump out of the window into a 65 feet fall or listen to him. but you still want to be sure someone is keeping track of you, so you move to open the window hoping today the old couple and the friendly lady who lives in the building next to yours and are always inviting you to spend the holidays and have dinner with them are gaping inside your place as usual and turn on the localization device in your phone.

“you have ten minutes.”

“thank you for considering my offer.” he answers, seemingly more relieved, and starts talking. “i’m not sure how to address it correctly… there probably isn't a correct way to do it, so i’ll be plainspoken. i’m a vampire, such as my brothers, and we need your help because you hold powers that can save our empire from the mass attack it is suffering right now.”

you huff, because it’s the only thing you feel like doing.

“you really invaded my house to fool me into a halloween prank? who made you do it? oh, it must have been yeonjun and kai, right? i'm calling the bastards right now, this is way off limits.” you manage to grab your phone in your pocket again but, just like your keys, you see it appearing in the guy’s hands.

“it’s not a prank and your human friends have nothing to deal with it, swear with my long gone soul. i am indeed a vampire, as you can verify by my teeth. vampires exist, such as some other ‘magical creatures’, as your people like to call us. i’m park seonghwa, the second vampire emperor, or prince, whatever you’d prefer, and am here to plead for your help because my empire is perishing and the eight of us can’t do much without you.”

the serious way he’s speaking almost convinces you, but it still sounds so crazy and nonsensical you keep yourself skeptical. you can't avoid some classical questions, though.

“why aren’t you burning or shining in the sun, then? and i don't see you sweating due to the giant amount of garlic in my kitchen. there’s no proof to your allegations, fang boy.”

seonghwa finds it really hard to suppress a smile. you were much more fun (and cute) than he thought, and seeing you being so doubtful only added to the feeling he had.

“because not all the tales you humans like to tell about us are true. garlic does not affect vampires at all, i have no idea where this... thing came from. we only get paler in the sunlight, as you may perceive.” he moves closer to your window, and you can see his slightly tanned skin turning paler and paler until his veins start to become proeminent and dark blue in his skin. it’s almost as if he's like a living canvas full of paint.

“i don’t believe you.”

“do you expect me to prove my identity then? because the only way to do it is by feeding, and im afraid you’re the only human in the nearer 260 feet at least.'' he steps closer and while he’s talking you see his fangs getting longer. and sharper. he touches his pointer finger with his teeth and his skin rips easily as if a needle had been dragged along it. when you look into his eyes they’re rouge as… blood. fear creeps into you and you step back, moving your head no.

“y-you can go on! i will hear you, i p-promise. i'm not exactly doubting it anymore.” you say, voice weak with fear. you move to your couch slowly, eyes still fixated in his every move. “i-im going to sit because this doesn’t sound like a conversation i’ll be able to take in while standing. feel free to sit too.” he moves to sit in the same armchair he’s leaning, but you start to talk again before you forget and his eyes move up to you again. “oh, but i want my keys and phone. you’ll not be getting my help making it look like you want to keep me in captivity.”

he nods, putting your phone and keys in your center table. you grab them almost immediately murmuring “thanks” because well, look where you are. he nods again and waits until you stop moving to talk.

“i’m shall start from the beginning since you have no familiarity with the vampires situation, right?” you nod, asking yourself what a vampire situation would mean. “the… ‘magic’ realm, i’ll call it this way for now because it’s easier, is hidden from human eyes. we have our own rules that exist to ensure mainly two things: that we won’t reveal ourselves to you with ease and that we will have peace, or anything closest to it, within us. some centuries ago people lived in balance and each kind had their own inside rules and organization besides these two major ones, but a riot some of the folks started created chaos and eventually a war. it was a slaughter; many villages were destroyed and many creatures, killed. it’s one of the darkest chapters of our story.

“wait, what do you mean by ‘creatures’ and ‘folks’? you’re not saying…”

“witches, elves, mermaids and sirens, gnomes, fairies, fauns, they’re all real. at some level, at least. i say this due to the fact you humans love to fantasize about their characteristics way too much, as you could testify with me and the sun belief you had. the majority of things you assume you know about them or about ur are probably inaccurate.”

your frown, “and what is the truth about all of you, then? what is wrong in the things i’ve been taught?”

there’s hints of a smirk in his lips, but he tries his best to keep neutral. “curious, aren't’ we? i’d love to share it with you, but it’s best that you learn it by yourself.” your eyebrows raise and he gets the sign to keep talking. “we’ll get there, do not worry.”

he takes a deep breath, a shadow of something gray crossing his sharp features. “after the war finished, pretty much all that was left was chaos. in an effort to save the survivors, an assembly was arranged so we could fix new rules and try to establish things. it happens that the vampires were the race that had the fewest deaths and casualties during the war and managed to better organize ourselves for that to happen, so it was decided by majority that we would rule all races from then on.”

“holy crap-” you tap your mouth, using the best of your self control skills to not laugh in his face, “this sounds like a bad fantasy book or a fanfic i’d have read when i was twelve. how did you guys manage all the power? and you said majority, not unanimity. there was someone against it, i suppose.”

seonghwa allows himself to smile, happy to observe you notice things rather quickly. you try to suppress your own reaction; if he was already handsome poker faced, it felt like his smile alone could convince you about anything he was saying and more. “we accepted it, since it was what most wanted. some begged, even, at some point of the discussion. it was never easy, though. we have faults and committed many mistakes, some worse than others and some… unforgivable, if i’m being honest. but i assure we hardly did then out of personal selfishness, the weight of keeping things in place is always something that humbles us down. and yes, you assumed correctly, there were people against it.”

he pauses abruptly, looks at you and laughs quietly, which confuses you. the fact that his laughing warms you inside has nothing to do with it, you reassure yourself.

“what?”

“if you thought the previous facts i’ve told you sounded like a… fantasy book or so, you can’t wait for the next bit.” he tries to dwell his laughter down to answer you, but you can see he’s struggling. “guess who disagreed with us being in power?”

it takes you less than a millisecond to reply. “no shit it were the werewolves.”

he starts laughing again but freely, not trying to refrain himself, and this time you can’t control the shocked smile that creeps onto your face along with your eyes widening.

“jesus fuck, seonghwa-” you have to pause for a second to recompose yourself, because you started laughing too hard along with him without even realizing, “it was already hard to believe the whole vampire convo and all, now you’re saying that not only other species of magical creatures do exist but the rivalry between vampires and werewolves is real? how do you expect me not to think this is some sort of twilight remake?"

“oh, no, not that movie,” he says while trying to stop laughing, “i’ve never watched it but it has caused enough misunderstandings already about us.”

you eye him up and down, “have some respect, it’s a masterpiece! i’m sure you just have never watched it because you know you’ll get inferiority complex since you’ll never be edward cullen.”

“i’ll pretend i know what you’re talking about and agree.” you laugh but on your own this time, and he can’t avoid admiring the wrinkles in your face when you do it. “resuming, the werewolves were never exactly comfortable with the idea of us in power in the first place, but as i said it was what the majority wanted. it has been like this for over eight centuries, and everything was going peacefully until around the nineteenth century. the werewolves started a rebellion against our empire, and to do it joined forces with each and every wrongdoer in our realm. they managed to have each and every single creature that had committed horrendous crimes as their allies, which caught us by surprise. we’ve tried to talk to them in the beginning, but it didn't work; they started to kill vampires and pretty much everyone that agreed with our power. it has been like this since then, and we were succeeding in controlling the war until one century ago.”

“oh.” nice way to react, you think. but what would be a great reaction for a narnia x game of thrones crossover of sorts? “i’m… i’m sorry, i guess. i’m not sure how to properly react to all of this, and it’s harder to conceive it as true. and what does it all have to do with me? swear i’m trying not to be a jerk or so, but why are you telling me all of this? why did you come after me?”

seonghwa, once again, has to control a smile creeping in. “because you, y/n, might be the key to saving everything.”

your brain short circuits. “what?” you freeze, wanting to laugh in his face, but the serious and hopeful look he gives you indicates he’s telling the truth. then a detail, a tiny but important detail comes to your mind. “wait- how the fuck do you even know know my name? i haven’t said it to you until now, there’s pretty much no mail you could get that from and most of my friends call me by nicknames, how do you know it?”

despair flashes through his eyes, but it’s only for a second. “well, here's where things start getting… interesting. or complex. i know it might sound crazy but… there’s… you… you’re…”

its the first time he seems uncertain or insecure and maybe even afraid in his speech if you squint, but the next bit that comes out of his mouth makes everything really sound like a big joke.

“i’m afraid there’s no easy way to let you know this, so i’ll have to be straightforward. you’re a living amplifier to any type of supernatural being. this amplifying power is given to a human in earth as a blessing from whatever force that keeps the universe balanced from time to time, but there are always at least a few centuries that part the amplifiers’ births. the last amplifier was a friend, an ally of ours that helped - or rather lead us vampires to our victory and was the sole reason why i and pretty much all of the survivors are still alive. i know your name because it was one of the last words he said before passing after sacrificing so much to guarantee peace amongst supernatural folks. i’m here to ask or rather plead for your help, because although we have more resources and ways of fighting now we’re afraid that it might not be enough for the challenges we might face.”

you blink once. twice. then you sneer.

“you know, i was almost believing you. i’m ashamed to admit it, but it was almost getting to me. but after this i'm afraid i’ll have to call kai and yeonjun and tell them to stop fucking with me every halloween season because this is way off limits. you’re a great actor, though,”, you say, reaching for you phone, “i’m sure you’ll go the distance or so. your costume is very well made too, i have no idea who thought about the eye mechanism but is sure surpr-

he takes your hand with his extremely cold one before you reach your phone.

“please. me and my brothers don’t have much time to deal with your doubts properly, and i’m sorry about that, so i beg of you. it probably sounds way far from your human rationality, but have you never felt anything different? any other type or force or liveliness different from what others feel? have you never seen the way some people thrive when they’re by your side? how they go higher than they probably would if they weren’t close to you? how it’s so easy for your to really connect to the people you love and how pleased they seem to be to love you back? have you ever felt observed? have you never seen that there are beings trying to put their eyes on you all the time, specially in nightmares?”

you head starts to spin. yes. he actually had a point. your presence around people you liked seemed to bring them more joy and great opportunities for some unknown reason, and it has been this way since ever. your childhood nickname was “lucky” due to this; the games and toys were funnier and happier when you were around, even if one of your friends got hurt - it would be fine, after all, right? the foster home you grew up in started to receive more donations after you arrived, and your foster dads were able to house even more children. your presence became a must in problem solvings while you grew up, because, for some reason, the fact that you were there made it all calmer and somehow easier. your friends would get higher grades, nicer positions in the school teams, greater opportunities and happier memories if you were involved or cheering for them; you were a walking lucky charm all over your life. your parents, your foster siblings and the few real friends you have always said the love they feel towards you is different than any type of love they’ve ever experienced. kai and yeonjun even like to joke that you have some type of magic on your blood or something, because they feel that your friendship will undoubtedly last for the rest of your life, no room for doubt.

and the nightmares. they were way more intense and frequent when you were a child. creepy and lone places, destroyed cities, dark alleyways stained with blood, desolated ghost-like faces, cries of help you never knew whom they belonged to. but the worse ones were the ones that had eyes around aware of your every move no matter what you did. they were the ones that offered your nights of sleep no mercy and made you wake up crying hard and shaking up from despair for years. funnily enough, they always seem to happen again frequently each spooky season. 

“i-i suppose you’re right in some way, b-but-”

“have you had a time where you painted a lot? maybe when you were a kid?”

that’s what breaks you.

“h-how the fuck do you know this?”

his lips curve up, a sad smile reaching his eyes. “eden, the last amplifier, was a painter. probably one of the best ever seen in the whole world, if i have a say on that. an amplifier born will always have and nurture the last amplifier’s talents for at least some time, specially during their childhood. if you took on his talent, i bet your paintings were astonishing, even more for a child.”

your memories flash in front of your eyes: how many paintings have you made for your parents’ office? how many times did you spend your early sunday mornings painting in order to gift your siblings? how many of these were still with them, in their houses, becoming part of the scenery of their lives until nowadays? and why the fact you abruptly stopped doing them when you were nine or ten had never made sense until now?

“i’m- i’m sorry, but- this must be some type of misunderstanding or bad taste joke, that’s ithe only explanation, that's it-”

“as said before im deeply sorry that we don’t have more time to do this with ease but…”, he huffs, looking down and then to you again, “this is what will have you believing me. i’m really sorry.”

he stares into your eyes for one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight seconds straight.

and then it all hits you.

flashes of some of the places you saw in your nightmares, but this time live, in person, because you were there; a giant castle with an art studio, your beloved art studio, where all your creativity flew through the canvases, where life seemed to make more sense. flashes of people you never met; unfamiliar smiles in their faces, but the lingering feeling there’s no physical building that could carry your conception of home more than they could; nights together singing by the moonlight, but also serious conversations and arguing and fighting but always making up because, in the end, they’re your family; war and horrible battles and you standing in all of them offering everything this force inside of you could because things had to end in peace; crying, seeing red and hearing their last words for you. darkness, solitude, happiness, yearning, melancholy, bliss, doubt, joy, frustration, hope, all types of feelings that weren’t and were yours at the same time.

you snap out of it with the feeling of seonghwa’s cold thumbs drying the tears you didn’t realize were streaming down your cheeks.

“i’m sorry this is so unfair to you,” he whispers, “i really wish this could happen naturally, without demanding so much of you and shattering the world you know with such violence, as it has always been with the others who got to know. im really sorry...”

for a while, you just allow him to hold your face and caress it, too overwhelmed by everything that’s flooding your brain. after what could be some seconds, minutes or even hours, you’re not sure at this point, you move away from his touch and he lets you go, something heavy in his eyes you are not able to decipher due to your state.

“you need time to digest it all, and you’ll have it. i’ll make sure that no nightmares or even visions plague your mind in the next days so you can rest. but i’ll have to come back in a week or two to ask you to come with me and help us if you’re willing to do it. i promise that i’ll answer any of your questions then and that more understanding of what you’re capable of will make it a bit easier. you can share all of this, but be sure to do it only with trusted ones and with as fewer people as possible.”

he gets up and turns to the door, but before heading in that direction seonghwa leaves a black business card in the table in front of you, just a single phone number written in red ink in it.

“if you need anything, do not hesitate to call this number and talk to me. i’ll do anything in my power to help you.”

he opens the door, turning to look at you for one last time. ”we’ll see each other again, y/n.”

seonghwa closes your apartment’s door and in a couple of minutes he’s walking in the street again. he takes his phone, dials a number he knows by heart and waits. the voice that answers him is curious, yet patient.

he huffs before replying, “as well as you would expect, hongjoong. they didn’t hit me with a broom or tried to shoo away with garlic, but also didn’t believe me until i forced them to see.”

“hey, are you fine? how did it go?”

“unfortunately. humans got way too used to believe we’re bedtime stories, specially in this century, so it wasn't something i didn't expect, but i-”

“so you did have to hypnotize them?”

“you’re not entirely comfortable with doing it too, i know. by the way, how did you feel? since it all probably got stronger, was it okay for you?”

seonghwa hesitates for a few seconds. “it was ecstatic, joong. i’m not sure i’m able to fully translate it into words. the more time I spent there and the more I understood about who they are now the more it became hard to let go. this is nothing like anything else that i ever felt, and it’s only the first time i saw them. i feel so goddamn lost but also as if i had finally found something very important inside me at the same time. i… have no idea of what to do.”

“no way. it was hard enough for them to believe the whole thing, it would be twice as hard if they knew- if i told them things probably would have been even harder. they’ll know when the right time comes.”

“maybe telling them, if you already didn’t?”

“sure, then. it’s your choice. are you already coming back?”

“yeah, i’ll call for the car in some minutes.”

“great. thanks, hwa. i know this was probably tough on you. come home safely.”

seonghwa replies with a hushed see you soon and hangs up. he knows his friend just wanted to be sure, but they knew each other well enough for hongjoong to presume nothing of the matter would have been said to you by seonghwa.

because how could he? right after stealing the truth you had been living until and shattering it into pieces? it sounded too cruel for him, he felt it in the moment he laid eyes on you today.

time would say when he’d tell you that besides your name, eden also said that the next amplifier would be his soulmate, and that this would allow to change things forever.

©prodsh00ky 2023. no crossposting or translations allowed.

[reidreaders]

Girl's Night Out

Poorly Kept Secrets: Part 3

Summary: Part 3 in which Penelope accidentally spills Spencer's secret (you) to JJ and Emily!

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: kissing, use of y/n, established relationship, semi-secret relationship, not proof read, idk this is pretty much just straight fluff but lmk if I missed anything!

A/N: I'M ALIVE BITCHESS I took some time off writing bc college is hard but im back!! I had so many requests for part 3 to this story so I hope y'all enjoy!!

Part 1 Part 2

Things had quieted down around the BAU in the weeks since Hotch, Penelope, and Derek found out about you and Spencer. The three of them had agreed to keep Spencer’s secret, seeing as how he wasn’t ready to share you quite yet, which was massively relieving to him. The team hadn’t been called out on many cases lately, meaning that Spencer had more free time than ever to spend with you. You and Spencer had only been dating for a couple of weeks, so you were still in the getting to know each other phase of your relationship, so it was tough that he was away fighting crime most of the time. All that to say, it was a nice change of pace for the both of you. You spent your nights taking turns cooking dinner and choosing which movie to watch, you spent your weekends introducing each other to your favorite hobbies (you had a new found love of chess), and lately, you had spent your mornings waking up next to each other. 

You and Spencer had yet another dinner and movie date planned for that night. When he arrived home from work, you were already in his kitchen getting dinner started. 

“Hey, Spence!” you shouted from the kitchen, as you heard the familiar footsteps enter the apartment.

Spencer rounded the corner into the kitchen with a confused look on his face, “Hey?” he questioned, “what’re you doing here so early?”

“I thought it might be nice to have dinner ready for you when you got home! Plus, I might have missed you a little bit.” you grinned as you moved to be closer to him, throwing your arms around his neck as he moved to put his hands on your waist. 

“Well that’s really sweet of you,” he blushed, “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t missing you today too.” he leaned in and closed the gap between the two of you. The kiss was soft and tender, yet full of passion. 

Spencer pulled away with a puzzled look on his face, as if something had just occurred to him, “How did you get into my apartment without a key?” 

Your eyes widened, guilt evident on your face. You had hoped that the imminent promise of dinner coupled with the fact that you were so excited to see him would be enough to distract him from the fact that you were seemingly breaking and entering. “Um…” you delayed your response, trying to figure out what to tell him, “I may or may not have bribed your landlord to let me in…” you winced, hoping he wouldn’t be too mad.

“Well, I’m gonna have to have a word with her about that.” He chuckled, leaning in for another kiss. 

You moved back to the stove to finish up cooking dinner, while Spencer set the table. The two of you sat down to eat and began what had become your usual dinner table conversation. You asked about his day, which he welcomed the opportunity to ramble on about. You didn’t mind when he rambled. In fact, you enjoyed it, hooked on every word that came out of his mouth. He asked about your day, and to be honest, you rambled just as much, happy to have someone in your life who seemed to genuinely care about how your day went. Needless to say, you guys had gotten much more comfortable around each other than you were the first time you had been invited over. Of course, it didn’t help that the two of you had been busted by his boss in desperate need of a babysitter.  

After you had finished eating, Spencer did the dishes, while you picked out a movie to watch with him. When you had first started dating, it quickly became very evident that Spencer had never seen any of the blockbuster movies you loved, nor had you seen any of the foreign films he held so close to heart. So, movie night became a tradition, taking turns showing each other your favorites. In the spirit of fall, you had chosen ‘The Fantastic Mr. Fox’, a childhood favorite of yours. 

You had raided his closet before starting the movie, desperate for something comfy to wear. You had chosen a pair of soft, flannel pajama pants and CalTech sweatshirt that smelled just like him. When you returned to the living room, Spencer was already laying down on the couch. You snuggled into him, squished between him and the couch, with your head on his chest and an arm thrown around his stomach. One of his hands was lovingly rubbing your back, but made its way up to your hair as he got more engrossed in the movie. This was your sweet spot. Nothing could put you fast asleep quicker than someone playing with your hair. You began to doze off, and Spencer, exhausted from a long day of paperwork, wasn’t far behind you. 

What the two of you did not know was that Emily, JJ, and Penelope had just finished up at a wild girl’s night out. The bar they had chosen was located conveniently close to all of their houses, and coincidentally, right down the street from Spencer’s apartment. The ladies had just begun their walk home when tragedy struck; JJ had to pee. 

“Oh c’mon can’t you just hold it?” Emily asked, anxious to get home.

“Yeah, we’re so close to your house Jayje!” Penelope chimed in.

“Guys, no! I’m seriously about to have an emergency. Now, can we please just find someplace to pee?” JJ begged, clearly desperate.

That’s when Penelope had a light bulb moment. “Oh! Why don’t we just pop by Spencer’s place real quick? I’m sure he won’t mind!” She said, excited to have found the solution to JJ’s ever growing problem. 

“Sounds good to me!” Emily said, followed by a “Thank God!” from JJ. 

As Penelope led her friends to Spencer’s apartment, she had completely forgotten about the secret she had promised to keep. She wasn’t used to Spencer having girls in his apartment, after all. 

When they finally arrived at Spencer’s place, JJ frantically knocked on the door, but got no answer. The two of you were fast asleep on the couch inside, with the movie drowning out any noise from outside the apartment. 

After knocking for several minutes, and receiving no answer, Emily decided to take matters into her own hands. She pushed past JJ to the door and tried the handle, revealing that it was unlocked. JJ raced down the hall to the bathroom, not noticing what the other girls had. 

“Oh no.” Penelope whispered to herself.

“Who is that??” Emily said a little too loudly for Penelope’s liking.

“Shut up! You’re going to wake them up!” Penelope whisper-yelled.

JJ had finally reached the bathroom by this point, slamming the door shut behind her. Spencer jolted awake at the sound, which in turn stirred you awake, too. He looked around for the source of the sound, but instead found two of his coworkers staring at him with wide eyes. 

“What are you doing here?” Spencer said exasperated, as he jumped up from the couch.

“Spencer, I am so sorry. I totally forgot about Y/N and that she’s a secret and JJ really had to pee and we were right down the street so I brought them here and I’m really, really sorry.” Penelope spat out, practically at the speed of light. 

You sat on the couch, barely awake and trying to process what was going on. You sat up to get a better look at the intruders and realized that you had seen them before in photographs. 

“So, are you gonna introduce us to your dirty little secret, Reid?” Emily smirked.

“She’s not my dirty little secret. She’s my-she’s just-” Spencer was cut off. All of the sudden you were next to him, extending your hand to Emily.

“I’m Y/N. Spencer’s girlfriend.” You said it proudly, even if the two of you hadn’t entirely agreed on what you were to each other yet. 

This statement elicited what was quite possibly a world record blush from Spencer. He was so happy to hear you call yourself his girlfriend that he had to restrain himself from grabbing your face and kissing you. 

Emily and Penelope introduced themselves to you and the four of you made small talk while you waited for JJ. You were happy to get to meet some of the friends you had heard so much about, even if the circumstances were less than ideal. 

JJ finally made her way out of the bathroom and noticed you for the first time, “Woah, what did I miss?” she asked.

Spencer jumped into action mode, determined to spare himself from another awkward explanation of why he hadn’t told anyone about you yet, “Nothing!” he said quickly as he began to usher the girls out of the apartment. 

You giggled under your breath at him. It was so endearing how determined he was to keep your relationship away from the prying eyes of his profiling friends, to give the two of you the space to figure out your feelings for each other, to spare you from yet another strange and unexpected encounter with his coworkers. 

As Spencer walked them out, you couldn’t help but eavesdrop. You listened to the girls asking him all kinds of questions about you. It was incredible how much they managed to ask him between the living room and the doorway. Once Spencer had finally gotten them out of the apartment, you heard him speak. “Can we please just keep this between us. I really, really like this girl and I don’t want to put too much pressure on her by introducing her to you guys already.”  They all agreed to keep his secret, solely because he did seem to really like you. 

Spencer shut the door and made his way back to you, “I’m really sorry about that,” he chuckled, embarrassment evident on his face, “I seriously have to talk to the team about them showing up here like that.”

“No it’s okay,” you assured him, still swooning at what he had said to his friends, “It was kind of nice actually.” you smiled.

“Oh yeah? How’s that?” Spencer asked, genuinely curious about what you could have possibly enjoyed about that encounter.

“Well, I get to officially be your girlfriend now…” you said sweetly.

Spencer blushed again, thrilled that you were excited to put a label on your relationship, “Yeah,” He giggled, “I guess something good did come out of all that chaos, huh?” he said before leaning in to kiss you, your first kiss as an official couple.

hope y'all enjoyed! I had so much fun writing this one, so I think part 4 will be up sometime next week! ALSO my requests are open so send me something to write :)

MASTERLIST

[p-oisn]

let's get positive ! (⁠ʃ⁠ƪ⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠）

(the content below the cut contains mentions of sensitive topics such as implied su*cide & sh so pls scroll if you're uncomfortable w those !)

this is a long rant about life basically .. 💩💩

i was going to make a post like this sometime later anyways bc i felt .. like a nice person ... but i made it a bit earlier than i expected bc i saw a post from oomf that really made me think .. so here u go

this comes from my own PERSONAL experiences and this is js my point of view yk !!! im no expert on any topic HSHSJ this is js the way i cope plz dont come for me in my asks ... i am aware that it isn't the same for everyone but , i hope this message can be helpful to some extent </3

if you feel like like life is leading nowhere n you feel like giving up I PROMISE it will get better bc i felt the same for two whole years n i will say that i have improved a LOT since . yes , it took me longer than i expected but i didn't give up and you shouldn't either ! it was hard n there were times i felt like i wasn't making any progress / improvement but in the end , it still got better

be kinder (to yourself, first) ☆

i think the first step to loving yourself is to forgive yourself .. its okay to try over n over again , you're still human n i think ppl tend to forget that often bc they're so tough on theirselves . let's not forget that your body is actively trying it's best to keep u alive , your WBCs for example ! (let's appreciate these little guys for trying their best 🎉🎉) your body too , deserves to be loved back , for fighting so hard just for YOU! so pls don't hurt yourself in any way </3

appreciate yourself for achieving even the smallest of tasks because even if it wasn't something big , YOU DID IT ANYWAYS ! every small achievement of yours deserves to be appreciated . even if it's momentary happiness , appreciate yourself while it lasts . i understand that sometimes even small things could be such a hassle but you can always reward yourself later ! i personally like to buy donuts everytime i finish something (this could come in handy when you're really craving something if you get what im saying ..)

It's okay if you're going at a slower pace than other people , what matters in the end is that you get it done ! everyone is not the same so it's unfair to put yourself down for such things .. also applies to comparing yourself to someone because in the end you'll still be you .. even if you don't like it .. that makes you unique ofcourse , there's only one of you in this world so embrace yourself for that !! you're one of a kind (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

oh, but, life's the same, it's boring ... ☆

yes , a lot of days could end up being the exact same because like , there are 365 days in a year so you can except most of them to be similar .. but as a new year starts , ofc many things change without you even noticing it , you grow older ofcourse , and you could be starting a new year in school , you meet new people and so on ! if you compare your life from a year ago or even a few months ago to now , you'll surely notice a few differences atleast so .. life is not reaaaaally the same right .... everyday is a new experience ! literally anything and i mean anything could happen the next day , you could even win the lottery who knows 🤫

when i felt like everyday was the same , i tried changing my patterns .. (my current favourite thing to do is go on a walk ! sometimes i take my dog w me , it's super fun) i would do small things that i dont usually do like sketch ! or i attempt cooking something new .. but obviously there were a LOT of days where i did nothing , sometimes even weeks , and that's okay ! we all deserve days where we do nothing ESPECIALLY if you're someone who is working or js in school / college everyday .. you deserve that break

i think a big factor is being unproductive ? don't get me wrong , i still am my same unproductive self at times unfortunately , n sometimes they do get so bad that they lead to a terrible burnout .. n i went through a rly bad burnout not long ago n trust me you do not want to get this far :( how do i deal with this ? (let's take studying as an example here) well i always start off with small portions , even if it's just a page or two . n then i slowly keep increasing the amount of pages i read .. n yes ofc , i understand how brutal burnouts can get sometimes n that's why it's important to not overwhelm yourself by attempting to finish a big portion of your studies in one go .. just take it easy , let the information marinate in your head for a bit before you move on to the next topic .. so basically what im trying to say here is don't overwhelm yourself with big tasks especially when you're already burntout

friends .. they're great ☆

the thing that honestly improved my life by a mile is getting good friends .. I've had my fair share of bad friend groups so trust me when I say this , it's better to be alone than with people who drain you mentally because . you deserve someone who treats you the way you actually want to be treated .

"but it's hard to make friends" i completely get this because i am a very shy person myself </3 but i think you could start by trying to make friends online ! its easy to find someone with similar interests on the internet .. so when you feel down atleast you know that there's someone on the other side of the world who cares for you ..

but this doesn't change the fact that solitude is AMAZING too (tbh i could go on for a really long time on how i love being by myself but this is already getting super lengthy ...) you can be your own friend too ! (okay see now this seems insane but if it makes you happy WHO CARES AMIRITE) i personally enjoy my own company like omg .. she can get a good laugh out of me sometimes ... you can do whatever you want when you're alone ! you can dance to your favourite playlist or experiment with a bunch of stuff ! if you get bored you can watch your favourite movie or consume your favourite piece of media that no one gets like you 🤫 so , as much as making friends sounds great , let's appreciate solitude too !!

ah, life can be beautiful sometimes? ☆

one of the biggest reasons i go on walks almost regularly is to remind myself how beautiful the world can be sometimes .. (atp half of this is me convincing you all to go on walks) i live in a beautiful neighbourhood n there are a lot of different flowers and fruits that grow here and that makes me really happy . going on early morning walks especially is soo fun , the world is so quiet then and you can even watch the sunrise 🥹

another thing is buying myself things i like ... especially clothes ... if you think you would look good in something then js go ahead and buy it ! don't mind what other people think because like ... YOU are wearing it and if people around you have a problem with that then i think they should close their damn eyes and not look at you if it bothers them that much 🤦 you deserve to feel confident and comfortable in your own skin , you deserve to dress the way you want to ! so if you feel like dressing a particular way would make you feel better .. GO FOR IT !!! this applies to other things you like, maybe accessories, merch or stationary that look cute .. it's okay even if people judge you for your style because in the end they're the ones who are boring and miserable because they spend soo much time hating on others 😒

life is soo much more fun when you take care of yourself trust me ... you deserve to be taken care of !! so spoil yourself once in a while i promise it's okay as long as it makes you happy <3

to sum it all up .. yes , good times don't last forever but so don't bad times , and you and i both can get through a bad day because life is still going on (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ bad times too , will pass . so please believe in yourself and hold on !! i love you

again, this is all how*I* like to cheer myself up so pls don't take anything here in a bad way 😖 all of this was made with good intentions and im so sorry if i still ended up hurting anyone in any way ..

[likesunsetorange]

I’m a e2l fan so I want anything you could give us about it like characters likes /dislikes ? Small snippet (sorry Im so excited for this fic I’m asking for alot :,(no pressure though <3)

love you hope you’re doing good

hiii! you're so sweet, ily2! i'm mostly good! a little stressed bc school but i'm keeping it pushing haha

and you're not asking for a lot!! i've actually been talking a lot about this au with a few of my moots lately so i've been itching to share about it so honestly go crazy with asking about it!!! since i haven't gotten as many asks about this au i guess i'll make this ask kind of long and just kind of dump some of the stuff from my notes into it? and i have a tiny snippet i can share too!

so i'll just go on a long ass tangent below lol

okay, so first thing about this au, the one thing i really want to emphasize (without spoiling) is the whole thing about this au is that their breakup reason is important, but also that nobody in particular is at fault. sometimes life just happens, and things happen, and sometimes you just need to take a step back and re-evaluate yourself, your goals, and what you really want! it's about coming back together and choosing that person in the end because you realize not being with them is worse than whatever drove y'all apart!

tbh a lot of this au is partially inspired by my own breakup & how the experience of me getting over it! i was in my early 20s for the first time being single after being in a relationship since i was a teenager and i was like woah wtf idk how to be single/without a partner. so that's a big focus of that! learning how to find yourself and realign your goals and all that!

but we can get into the characters now!

eren:

definitely is a bit more obvious about missing mikasa, but tries to act like he doesnt (he has her highlight still up lol, not doing a good job at it)

mostly just works a lot while they're not together

after they breakup, mikasa moves out of their apartment, so he's stuck seeing all their stuff all the time

the first time they see each other its messy, they get into a big fight lol, they aren't allowed to hang out together lol

but he realizes pretty fast that he regrets the breakup, but he sees that mikasa seems to be doing okay, so he wouldn't wanna intrude on that

he gets armin in the breakup basically (mostly bc he sees armin more, but armin still talks to mikasa, just not as much as he does to eren obvi)

he picks up some of mikasa's hobbies bc he misses her so much lol he's down horrendous

at the very least does miss mikasa at least as a friend

mikasa

after their breakup, because she's kind of trying to spite eren, she starts going out a lot to cope—her "hot girl era" essentially lol

she definitely starts prioritizing herself a lot more, and spends more time with her friends and figuring out what she wants outside of eren

but she definitely misses eren, she's just better at hiding it lol

she partially thinks he just doesn't want anything to do with her anymore (a lot of this is just them being fucking idiots lol), and she basically doesn't try to stalk him or see what he's up to bc she doesn't wanna know out of her own peace of mind

she has very bad flight anxiety so when they fly to italy, she lowkey kind of hopes that eren doesn't change his flight (he does bc he has to do something not even to be petty), and she has a very terrible flight experience and all she wishes is that eren were there

and here's a little snippet! this takes place the day after they break up!! sorry for rambling LOl but hope you enjoyed my little tangent! :)

“Damn, Mikasa,” Gabi called out from behind her, only causing Mikasa to turn around. “We didn’t know you went out on weeknights.” 

Gabi, one of the college freshmen who worked at the gallery, had a tendency to say whatever was on her mind, never bothering to filter herself. Even if Mikasa had grown rather close to her since she started working at the gallery in August, sometimes she wished Gabi would just shut up.

Mikasa scoffed, confused as to what even prompted her to say that. “What are you talking about, Gabi? And don’t cuss so loud, especially where guests can hear you.”

“Your eyes, they’re all red. Not to mention how bad your bags are,” she said, pointing to her eyes. “Seems like someone was a victim of Sunday Funday.”

Mikasa lifted a finger to touch her eye—still puffy, but from tears, rather than drinking.

“Gabi, you’re not supposed to say stuff like that—it’s rude,” Falco chimed in.

“Hey, it’s not my fault she can’t handle her alcohol,” she shrugged, turning back toward Mikasa. “It’s okay, Mikasa, the prettiest girls are always the biggest lightweights. But anyway, are you feeling okay? Does our favorite party girl need some Tylenol? A Liquid IV, maybe? Even a Gatorade?”

Was she supposed to answer honestly? Tell them that she had spent the entirety of her night crying because she and her boyfriend had broken up. That she was sure that the cops almost got called by their neighbors from how loud they were yelling at one another? That Sasha couldn’t even understand her when she called, telling her she needed somewhere to stay because she stormed out of their apartment, not even giving Eren the chance to finish his sentence, somewhere after one of them had uttered the words, “We shouldn’t be together anymore?”

She had been doing so well, pushing the thoughts to the back of her head, trying to get through the entirety of her shift without thinking about everything—about him. She only had an hour left in her shift, but all of her efforts had been to no avail.

It was as if the wind had been knocked out of her, she suddenly lost the ability to breathe, and she felt all the blood drain from her face.

We aren’t together. We aren’t together. We aren’t together. The words playing in her mind on loop.

“Hey, Mikasa. Are you okay?” Falco asked, his eyes flooding with concern as he looked over Mikasa’s current state.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” she said quickly, before running off to the bathroom.

But maybe just this once, Mikasa was lucky for Gabi’s inability to shut her mouth—at least being hungover was a good enough cover for sobbing her eyes out in the bathroom.

[bitchinbarzal]

https://www.tumblr.com/bitchinbarzal/725892258138898432/i-need-to-hear-more-about-sex-tape-anon-her-bf

HI IM BACK AND IM AWAKE. also to the anon that sent this, dump that situationship, if he wanted to, he would. so like idk what y’all wanna know so i’ll tell all. we’ve known each other since we were kids, he’s my brothers best friend since diapers (our moms met at a lamaze class and became instant friends) and im 2 years younger than him. i had a crush on him when i was 7 despite the fact he always teased me (not in a bullying way, but like he’d tug on my hair if he liked the style of it idk why, now he does it nsfw way) uh i still had a crush on him when i entered hs and he was dating someone (his ex who gave his brother 🧠) and that relationship lasted about a year, and then when they broke up he turned into a fuck boy and i started dating another guy who ended up cheating on me, he beat the dude up and comforted me post break up and we got closer, he became my fav person to hang out with and eventually he asked me out, i was weary bc he was a fuck boy and i had just gotten cheated on, he understood and we took it slow. he eventually went to college, i was so scared bc i was so insecure and thought he’d cheat on me, we got into lots of fights bc of it, turns out he was insecure too and thought i’d cheat on him. but we’re still 2 years strong, going on 3. i’m 18 and he recently turned 20. uh idrk what to say tbh that helps us maintain our relationship cause there’s a lot i think? we put each other first and listen to each other, trust and honesty is big for us, he was always my friend before my lover and im so grateful for that because i think it made our relationship stronger. he’s been my safe space since i was 15. make your partner feel comfortable and safe around you, don’t keep secrets, don’t act superior to them or belittle them. don’t be afraid to put yourself first and do what’s best for you, there have been so many times over the course of our relationship where i needed a few days for me and bf always respected that, and if your partner doesn’t, dump them. when he gave me my promise ring he told me i was the first thought on his mind when he woke up and the last when he fell asleep and he plans on it being like that for the rest of his life, even after he calls me his wife (ik that mf didnt come up with that quote idk where he heard it but it’s literally so cute),. uh, i hope this gives you guys some insight to our relationship

- sex tape anon

(yes i cried while writing this)

🥺

[6kate1bishop6]

okay so aaron got into stunt work bc tilda left him at a lot of free clubs when he was a kid im thinking like salvation army type things and they did like a little over the holidays we'll teach the kids a play to perform and teach them incredibly rudimentary drama stuff like stage combat and they learn how to do pretend punches and stuff and then aaron realises he enjoys acting and he does drama at school but hes always better at the stunt stuff like choreographing fight scenes etc so when he goes to college he gets a scholarship for a drama school and learns how to work in stunts

meanwhile andrew learns acting in juvie thanks to pig higgins and because its juvie they dont teach stunts / stage combat but andrews really good at acting and higgins works to get andrew into a drama program, he goes back into the foster system when he leaves juvie but keeps up the acting thing mostly just high school stuff, when he ages out of the system and graduates high school higgins pushes andrew to continue acting and he ends up doing community theatre shows where he ends up meeting neil who keeps pushing him to continue acting with him

fast forward and theyre like 25 ish or smth and andrew is an up and coming actor whos just been cast in the leading role of like an a24 film or smth, theyre trying to keep andrews identity underwraps before the film is finished so they just send out a casting call for a short blonde stunt double and of course aaron answers the call

he gets on set for a screen test and queue the 'sir youre needed with angela in make up, lucas wants you to run some lines for a moment, neils just arrived in your trailor, rachel wants your opinion on the camera angle for the next scene' etc etc and whilst aarons being tossed this way and that andrews finally turned up on set late, he makes his way to whatever area hes needed and through a sea of people he spots him. not a him that is dangerous, a him that haunts his nightmares; not a him that he is dare he say it looking forward to seeing, anticipating though hed never say the words out loud. no thats... him. andrew is seeing himself standing next to stanley from the writers room

theres an expression on his face that he doesnt recognise. confusion maybe? but that cant be right because andrew hasnt been confused in decades, or at least hasnt shown it so blindingly obviously on his face since he was young and didnt know any better

and suddenly his face is looking up, his eyes are meeting his own and it all comes rushing to him. a life separated, on either ends of a system that purposefully tore them apart, a system that never cared for its children but tossed them around for whoever passed an arbitrary test first. his face shows a devestation that he had never wanted to see again, a world that shouldnt have been able to be turned upsidedown ever again

and aaron is looking at a mirror image. but one thats distorted, one that he can see in his worst moments, the haunted look in his eyes that says that one more bad day and he wont be able to come back to himself the same. it should be impossible. like a scene out of one of the soap operas hed worked on, where hed been on set for a day before hed had to throw himself out a window and hope that he calculated the angle just right so he didnt snap his neck

aarons shuffling through all the possible answers whilst he takes a step forward. maybe... he never knew his father, genes were an extraordinary thing, maybe-- but up close, this man has the exact same mole under his eye, the same angle on his eyebrows, hell even some of their old acne scars are the same

it doesnt make sense, none of it is making sense.

needless to say filming does not continue for that day. filming does not continue for a week in fact

aaron is introduced to andrews boyfriend waiting in his trailor. andrew is told in turn about aarons girlfriend katelyn. a stitled conversation is shared, a brief overview of all the years they seemed to have spent apart without ever knowing

aaron learns of andrews time in the system and he starts to think of tilda. she would have told him, right? she would have said something if he was adopted, wouldnt she? he thinks of her heavy hands, the times hed burnt his hand on the stove because she was high in the other room, unnoticing of her son trying to cook his own dinner when he wasnt tall enough to completely reach the pan

they make their way back to his childhood home. aaron hasnt seen his mother in years, they share the occasional pleasantry over the phone but she doesnt seem to feel the need to see him and hes past the stage of trying again, happy with the life hes made outside of her home

when they step through the threshhold her face pales as if shes seen a ghost

as they demand the truth from her, andrew is careful to watch how aaron flinches when he comes within her reach, how his whole body tenses when her voice raises, how anger seems to be simmering beneath his bones but he keeps as much of it as possible under lock and key

andrew has no such qualms.

they leave the house and aaron notices that andrew refuses to look back.

the stunt team calls aaron with an offer, ecstatic that they wont have to cgi andrews face onto him, that they are essentially working with a lead actor who can do all his own stunts, but as two separate people. aaron gets to set the next day and andrew is there immediately.

"the position has been filled." he says. aaron knows its not the truth, but he remembers the first time kate came to set and how she clung to him that night after watching him fall down a 30 storey building. he thinks, just this once. theyve only just learnt what they are to eachother, just this once he will relent and politely declines the job offer

except its not just that one time. andrew tries his best to bring him into the fold, of course. they live in the same city, opposite ends but theyve managed to be just within arms reach for all this time. andrew doesnt ask aaron round for a family dinner every sunday, but he does extend an invite for a weekly pub quiz, he turns up at aarons door and gives him a box of takeaway hes never tried, they sit silently but companionably and watch f1 on the massive flatscreen in andrews apartment

but aarons noticed hes having a hard time finding jobs. andrews film has just come out, and he seems only to be gaining more and more connections, but all of aarons appear to be shrivling up. hes still making a living, but for a young and talented stunt double whos yet to earn an injury on set its bizarre for him to not be approached more often

then, one day, a few months off from the first birthday the twins will ever share together, he gets a call. "a car crash", they say, "faulty breaks" and aaron curses his mom because she never took her car to the shop and then suddenly hes crying and then katelyn is holding the phone and shes thanking the officer for telling them and aaron has a jolt when he realises hes not the only son she has, not the only person that needs to be notified

"moms dead." aaron tells him, and andrews only response is "ive never had a mother"

its cruel, harsh, and they dont speak for the next few days. aaron has to go tend to the funeral arrangements and he sends an invite in the mail to andrew, but its returned to sender

they both need space, so aaron doesnt push it

he goes to the funeral, he sees his uncle, sees his moms boss, sees their neighbour from the house on their left, but not the neighbour from the house on the right. its a quiet funeral, he hopes his own wont be the same

but he goes back home, he returns to his life, he goes back to pub quiz and tolerates josten when he gets annoying because he knows that he comes with andrew

the jobs are still scarce, but he manages to find a spot on some detective show still in its first season. he plays the murder victim, obviously. the techs walk him through the idea behind the scene, what theyre going for today

and maybe his mothers death is too fresh on his mind, but the car crash hits too close to home. he tries his best to brush it from his mind and does his job

when the episode comes out, a cast member texts him. he doesnt always watch his own work, but this show seemed interesting enough anyway. the episode comes out and he follows along the plot. some business dispute where a rival cut the breaks on the car

aaron doesnt know whats going on in his mind, he doesnt know why hes thinking this, but... he ends up at andrews house anyway.

their fight is loud. or, at least, aaron is loud. andrew takes the words as they come, but doesnt dispute any of the accusations. aaron feels sick, he cant believe his... this person has taken his mother from him.

safe to say pub quiz is indefinately cancelled.

aaron wont go to the police, theres no proof and neils super secret mafia connections would probably kill him before andrew was ever separated from him. he and katelyn move states when she gets a good job offer, the people here are more willing to hire him, theyre almost shocked at how sparse his resume is

and then one day its been four years since hes seen the twin brother he knew for less than one. or, maybe not seen, because he still sees his picture everywhere. that film theyd met on the set of had been a springboard for what was turning out to be an incredibly sucessful acting career

with the success theyd dug up andrews past, tried to contact aaron, though both he and andrew had shut that one down. thankfully they dont look too close, no one makes the connections to discover andrews revenge. its all aaron can hope for at this stage

hes on set for another film. its a crew of people hes been working with for years, friends even. they invite him to hang around set to watch the rest of the film being made. aaron is even happy to oblige them

its some cheesy sci-fi that he probably wouldnt have watched if given the choice. a sequel, maybe, because they keep talking about juno killing carsons father. the big villain of the last film, aaron deduces. and over the course of filming he manages to piece together the plot. juno is the sister of carson, who had been taken from his family as a child and raised by an evil overlord because a prophecy said that carson would grow up to kill him. he hadnt been a nice father, of course he hadnt he was leading an evil empire. but the prophecy had been wrong, it was juno who had killed him. the film drags on, as most sequels do, until carson realises that juno hadn't killed his father for her own reasons, but because she'd noticed the bruises dotting carsons skin

and its so silly, for aaron to watch it and think of his own brother. its just a film, it has nothing to do with him. but his phone is still in hand, contact details on the screen that hed never been able to delete

aaron doesnt call. he talks to katelyn. the months stretch on.

aaron doesnt call, at least not immediately

but as november nears, it gets harder and harder to stop himself

so, he doesnt.

andrew picks up the phone, by some miracle. theres sounds in the background, and aaron can almost imagine the little party hat sitting on andrews head, the deadpan expression that rests underneath it. andrew doesnt say anything, but he picked up

"happy birthday." aaron tells him, voice a bit too raw for what should be a joyous occasion.

"you too." andrew replies. they are quiet on the line. quiet for several minutes, before aaron hears a voice calling out to andrew and then the line goes dead

a week later, he receives an email. a request for a stunt double on andrews newest film.

okay AFTG actor au where aaron is andrew's stunt double

[artficlly]

face the music (chapter 2)

Music College Marvel AU - Chapter 2

!frat!musician!bucky x !frat!musician!steve x !musician!femreader

Warnings: angst, violence, mentions choking, alcohol, smoking, swearing, implications of previous abuse, ptsd, panic attack, victim blaming

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: this is kinda heavier than expected lol. hopefully more fluffy stuff to come bc im so hype for soft bucky n steve <3 not proof read

chapter masterlist | main masterlist

You should’ve known the moment that people whipped out their phones to record the fight that this would happen. 

You nervously pick at your nails, bouncing your knee as you sit outside Stark’s office. Silently cursing, you can only hope that you don’t lose your scholarship over this. Being called to the Head of the College’s office wasn’t promising though. To your side, you hear Steve huff, he seems more inconvenienced than anxious, while Bucky hasn’t stopped staring at you since you arrived. He obviously had something to say to you, but you had completely blanked him and diverted all your interest into nervously fidgeting. You’re not even sure why they were here, you could only guess it was because they had been the ones to split up the fight.

Bucky had told you to stay put last night and you had completely ignored him. After making a short call to Thor to come pick Loki up and take him to a hospital, you had ditched the party. It probably hadn’t been the best idea walking home alone sobbing, but in that moment you had needed to be alone. Loki was fine - thankfully - he would have to stay a few nights at the hospital to be monitored due to the hefty concussion he had received. You had woken up to a hundred concerned texts and missed calls. You didn’t have the energy to reply to them or to explain. You’d have to bite the bullet when you got to class though, you didn’t know if you’d be able to hold it together when they all crowded you. It was even worse now that you had been called to Stark’s office, making you late to your morning class. Sharon, Yelena and Kate were going to be on you like fucking bloodhounds. 

You jumped as the door to Stark’s office swung open, a disheveled John Walker emerging. He was sporting two black eyes, a broken noise and a split lip. Even if he had beaten the shit out of Loki, it was satisfying to see that Loki had got a few punches in. John eyes you with a look of rage. Not a good sign. All you can do is sink back further into your chair, heart pounding. Maybe it was just the anxiety, the familiarity of the bruises on your skin… but you couldn’t help but think John looked like him. The thought hung in your mind for a moment, you hadn’t thought about him in months.

“Keep going, Walker.” Tony Stark spoke as he waved John off. You could feel John’s glare on you even as you looked away. You were fucked. This was fucked.

“Alright. You three, in,” Stark said, you could hear the tiredness in his tone. Grabbing your bag, you stood, hugging it to your chest like it could protect you from what was to come. Expulsion? Your scholarship being revoked? 

“Mr. Stark, Sir. I don’t understand why Bucky and I are here-” Steve started only to be cut off. 

“Just get in the office, Rogers.” 

“Right. Sorry.” Steve replied sheepishly with a huff as you slumped down into one of the office chairs. Steve only arched an eyebrow at you, thoroughly unimpressed. He was probably blaming you for being dragged into this drama. You couldn’t help but notice how his eyes lingered on your bruised throat. You swallowed hard, pulling your sweater to cover it.

“You all know why you’re here, you’re not in trouble… I just need some, uh, clarity on this situation,” Stark spoke as he leaned back into his own chair. He looked like a fucking mob boss leaning back in his leather chair, dark polished wood desk separating the three of you from him. A cigar was still smoking in an overflowing ashtray, a half-drunk glass of whiskey to his side. Who could drink hard liquor this early in the morning? God. 

“Clarity on what, exactly?” Bucky spoke up for you, drumming his fingers on the arm of the seat he was seated in. You didn’t dare catch his eye, instead staring at your feet as your knee bounced nervously. The whole weekend you hadn’t been able to get his touch out of your brain. The way he wet his lips before speaking, the concern in his expression. The nickname? Siren. What was that supposed to mean, how were you supposed to interpret that? 

“I don’t know, Jesus. Just run through what happened from the beginning. I just need a statement from your perspective so I can move this along.” Stark wasn’t the best at being, well, a leader. A responsible one at least. He was a rockstar turned college head after his father’s death. He was only doing this meeting for reputation sake.

You felt all three eyes fall on you as you chewed the inside of your cheek. It was your story to tell, but you couldn’t help but feel afraid. Like this was a terrible, awful idea. Last time you had tried to get help… against him… they hadn’t believed you. Why would they believe you now? Group A hated your fucking guts, getting you kicked out would benefit them. Oh god, you were going to have to drop out with the way this was going. 

Exhaling sharply, you calm yourself. You just needed to speak, get your side clear. You could face the aftermath later. 

“I was in the kitchen, and uhm, John he pushed me against the island. He was really mad about the Annual Showing or something. He was so drunk I couldn’t really… understand what he was saying.” You start, voice wavering a bit in places as you contemplate your wording. All your brain was screaming was that this was a mistake. They wouldn’t believe you. A small part of you was silently glad that Bucky and Steve were there, that maybe they might back you up.

“What did he say? About the Annual showing?” Stark asked. Your gaze fell to your fingers as you fidgeted. Fuck. You really didn’t want to go over this - relive this. You could feel panic rising, but all you could do was clear your throat and keep pushing through. 

“Just that we - Group B - that we cheated. He thought we cheated, and that's why we won.”

“Cheated how?” Stark asked. You could practically feel Bucky and Steve tensing at that question. Had they overheard what John had implied? You couldn’t help but wonder if they knew because Group A were the ones spreading those rumors. You could imagine Natasha painting her nails, ranting and raving about how you ‘fucked your way’ into the school and to victory.

“Just… I don’t know. He was freaking out. He grabbed my throat, and I tried to fight back, to get free but I-” You voices cracks as heat rushes to your face. You willed yourself not to cry. You really didn’t want to fall apart right in front of them, you wanted to be strong. You had been strong before, you could do it again. You could do this. 

“That’s when Laufeyson punched John. To get him off Y/N.” Bucky cut in, catching your obvious distress. You hold back tears as you clear your throat again. Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry. 

“I don’t understand how it got to that? Did you say something? Provoke him into grabbing you like that?” Stark asks innocently, but you feel the entire world tilt. You’re stunned into silence, you don’t even notice the way both Bucky and Steve both tense up. An uneasiness grows into a feeling of sickness in your stomach. Provoke him? He was really going to suggest that you had asked for that? That there was something you could’ve done that warranted violence against you? The entire world spins, you have to grab the arm of the chair to steady yourself as you suck in a breath. Provoke him? How could Stark… 

“Excuse me, what?” Steve asks, jaw muscles tight as he assesses Stark with a look of rage. You can’t even process him coming to your defense, you can’t even process the way Bucky looks at you with an expression of concern and horror. You feel as if you might keel over at any moment. Bile rises in your throat, your clothes suddenly feeling two sizes too small. Your hand flies to your neck, pulling the fabric away. You were choking, suffocating. Everything was too close, too loud. It was like him all over again, it was like the police officers who regarded you as just another hysterical woman. You watch as Stark runs a hand over his face with a sigh of exasperation. 

“I’m just- shit that came out wrong. I just don’t understand why he started choking you?” 

"I don't know, maybe because Walker is fucking insane?" Bucky cut in.

You can’t take this, you’re going to throw up, you’re going to scream, sob, anything to let the pain out. All you can hear is him, his fucking voice. ‘Even if you told anyone, do you really think anyone would believe you?’. You can feel his fist, you can see yourself sobbing in the mirror, black bruising across your skin. Before you can even really process it, you’re on your feet and rushing towards the door. Your body doesn’t feel like your own, you’re on autopilot and your instincts say run. You can’t do this, you can’t be here right now. You’re trapped in a fucking memory, one that you had long buried. 

“Jesus, Y/N-” Stark calls after you, but you’ve burst out of the office into the hall. You can hear the rustle of clothes as Bucky tries to follow you.

“Leave her be, Buck.” You hear Steve say softly, pulling Bucky away from following you down the hall. You barely make it to the nearest bathroom before you empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. 

*

As you had expected, your class had practically swarmed you the moment you entered. Thankful for the cold weather, you had managed to hide most of your bruised neck behind your sweater. After a few moments, everyone got the message pretty quickly that you wanted to be left alone. 

Your dread only grew though, when your professor, Mr. Banner, announced that there was to be a quick meeting. After the incident over the weekend, Banner and Stark wanted to clear the air between Group A and Group B. Your class was practically guarding you like a pack of dogs, glaring at anyone who even dared breathe in your direction. 

Bucky and Steve seemed deep in some conversation with Scott, Clint and Sam. Scott kept glancing your way, worried, you couldn’t find the energy to engage with it. The sound of Clint rattling his drumsticks against a plastic chair was giving you a headache. You had spent about half an hour with your head in the toilet, before you had dragged yourself to class. Numbness had swept over your body, the panic from earlier replaced with a silent acceptance that you were fucked. John hadn’t come to the meeting, Sharon had muttered to you that he had been banned from campus until the situation was dealt with. 

Half curled up in your chair, you rest your chin on your knees as you hug them to your chest. You just wanted today to all be over, to get a break from this place. You still needed to visit Loki in hospital, you had been too upset over the weekend to deal with it. Jane and Thor had done most of the visiting and occasionally checking in on you. You had spent most of the weekend laying into your piano, trying to relieve the stress and upset that had gathered.

“Right, so guys. After, well, recent events-” Banner starts, you roll your eyes. You hated the way everyone danced around the subject. You didn’t know if it was worse referring to it as the ‘incident’ or just putting it plainly. ‘That time when John attempted to choke Y/N to death in a frat house kitchen’. Yeah, maybe that was long. And a fucking undignified death. You didn’t know if you felt angry, sad or afraid anymore. There were too many emotions and thoughts rushing through your head. 

“We want to - well - bring back that family spirit. There’s always been a bit of competition between the two groups, but you guys are supposed to be a family, right? Like we’ve probably encouraged the competition a bit too much-” Banner continues, only for Stark to cut him off. 

“We’re canceling the duet assignment. Instead, we want you guys to do a group project. We don’t care how many are in your group, or if you guys split into pairs. What we want is for the two groups to collaborate. So if there's a group of B’s, you need at least one A in your group and vice-versa. Got it?” A collective groan follows Stark’s words, Clint purposely slumping and falling out of his chair. Scott picks up Clint’s drumsticks and starts drumming on his head as he groans in annoyance.

“Come on guys! It’ll be fun!” Stark says, throwing his hands up. You can only exhale in annoyance, turning your head to stare thoughtlessly at the wall. You ignore the chatter as people excitedly or begrudgingly make plans. You could only wonder if this plan would end in bloodshed, the idea of Group A & B actually getting along was a foreign one. 

“You have two weeks to come up with a cover, or… original. Up to you, just present something!” Banner shouts over the chatter. As if afraid of the wave to come, Stark and Banner quickly abandon the room to leave the group to the organization. 

With a huff, you close your eyes. Head resting sideways on your knees as you try to zone out the conversation. You know that you’d have to eventually uncurl yourself and find yourself a group or a partner. Maybe you could snipe Scott, he was always relaxed and they could just smoke and procrastinate until the night before. You drum your fingers across your thigh at the thought, you could get Sharon in on it too. That would cause the least amount of drama, maybe you could get Peter-

“What do you think, Y/N?” Sharon chirps in your ear, interrupting your thoughts. 

“Huh?” You mumble, looking over to her where she regards you with a look of concern. You were getting a bit tired of those, you’d rather be invisible than pitied at that exact moment. 

“We were saying that later today, we could each do a group or solo performance for both groups. That way everyone knows each other's skills, so if a group has something specific in mind they can go off that? It might be easier than arguing over who is going where.” 

“Sure,” you reply with a sigh, beginning to unfurl yourself from the chair. Didn’t sound like you had much of a choice. “After lunch?” 

“Yup! The others were talking about doing that acoustic cover from our assignment awhile ago? You played the piano, but I’m sure you could do that and vocals-”

“You’re not doing vocals?” You question, cutting her off while reluctantly stretching out your legs.

“I mean, I wanted to do a solo. But if you want to do a solo it’s no biggy. It's about time you got a chance to show off-”

“No. It’s fine. I’ll do the group thing, or whatever.” You reply with a sigh, rubbing your face. Sharon gives a big smile, reaching over to pat your arm. This felt like walking on eggshells. 

“Just take it easy, if it gets too much or anything-” You cut her off.

“It’s fine, really Sharon. I’m just tired. I’ll have a coffee.”

“Okay.” Sharon replies, dropping the topic. In her eyes you can see that she is more concerned than she is letting on. 

CHAPTER 3

[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.  

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Honeysuckle

hi i have no self control and really really really love tattoo artist!jaskier so here we are again. this is a prequel to the nipple piercings fic wherein geralt is absolutely smitten from day one. not the same vibe but im telling myself thats to be expected bc these take place like five years apart lol

Warnings: tattoos. if they make you squeamish this is not your fic, swearing, mild anxiety, not much else

___________________

Geralt’s palms were sweating when he walked into the little tattoo shop above his favorite deli. The artist he booked was nice enough in the email, and the front desk gal was sweet on the phone, but he’d never gotten a tattoo before and his anxiety was telling him to run home and bury himself under all the blankets he owned. 

A familiar voice greeted him when he came through the door, “Hey! Sweet, you’re early! Jask is just setting up the chair!” 

The coily brown haired receptionist gestured to a black leather couch across the room and Geralt just barely caught a glimpse of tattooed vines from under her hoodie sleeve. He nodded and smiled, taking a seat and trying not to look so stiff. The receptionist called another artist over and Geralt was surprised when the taller, purple eyed woman wrapped her arms around her shoulders and placed a kiss on her cheek as they looked at the monitor. It was the good kind of surprise, Geralt decided, the kind that sets you at ease when you were gearing up for a fight. The receptionist caught his unintentional smile and winked at him before he suddenly found his nail beds fascinating.

“You Geralt?”

His eyes scanned over the man asking from bottom to top and nearly lost his ability to speak, “Hm? Thats me.”

He looked like he came straight form the Seattle grunge scene in the 90’s, but showered and with beautiful floral blackout sleeves up to the wrists on each arm. It seemed the only color over his whole body was the few yellow buttercups scattered through the pattern, ending in a bouquet of all sorts of plants and flowers and herbs at his collar bones, only slightly covered by his Heathers on Broadway tank. 

He flicked his wispy brown hair out of his unreasonably pretty blue eyes and smiled so brilliantly Geralt had to remember to breathe, “I’m Jaskier. Come on back!”

Geralt gave him a curt nod and stood to follow. 

“I hope you brought shorts, it might be a bitch to walk home in that.” Jaskier said, leading him into one of the rooms down a long hallway.

Geralt was suddenly regretting listening to Lambert. He wanted to melt into the floor when he realized he would have to say this to the beautiful tattoo artist’s face, “They uh… they zip away…”

“Oh my god.” Jaskier breathed, finally looking at Geralt’s knees, “I didn’t even know they made those anymore.”

“I swear to god, my brother wears them for work and told me to-”

Jaskier waved his hand, clearly holding back a smile, “No worries, Ron Stoppable.”

Geralt rolled his eyes but couldn’t keep from smiling, “Do you make a habit of making fun of your clients?”

“Only when I’m sure they can handle it,” he teased, “Now off with the hideous zipper pants, I gotta shave your thigh before I start the drawing.”

Once Geralt was shaved and positioned every which way on the table/chair contraption, he finally got to see the rough sketch. The marker felt cool and tickled the back of his knee, but surprisingly to him, he kept up a relaxed conversation, almost flirting before he thought better of it. 

“Do you like where everything is? Want any more grass? Or flowers? Now’s the time for changes, don’t be shy.” 

Geralt turned his leg this way and that, looking at the little blue and purple marks in a band just above his knee in the mirror, “You’re the professional, what do you think?”

Jaskier took a step back and reached for a roll of paper towels and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, “You said this was your first tattoo right?”

Geralt nodded.

“Okay, one less flower on the back then.”

“Why?”

“It’s one of the most painful places to get tattooed.”

“Keep it. I like it.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow, “Alright, Hot Shot. Face down, we’ll start there first.”

Holy fuck Jaskier was right. Geralt had a high pain tolerance, but this was a whole different kind of pain. He had his arms crossed under his forehead and was doing his best to take deep, even breaths but Jesus Christ, that little chuckle-fuck just kept going over what felt like the same spot. But hell would freeze over before Geralt tapped out, so he forced his breath out and kept going.

“Why honeysuckle?” Jaskier asked as he sat back to dip the machine in more ink.

Geralt took the opportunity to shift a bit and breathe easy before he lied, “Just picked it.”

Jaskier’s hands were back on his thigh, “You don’t have to tell me, it’s just not something I’m asked to do very often. Never for a first tattoo.”

Geralt’s smile turned into a grimace as the needles were back at his skin. Whether it was his sincerity, pretty eyes, or Geralt’s desperate need for a distraction, he bucked up and answered his question, “My- ah, someone told me to find a reminder of things I loved. My horse eats nothing but honeysuckle whenever we go on the trails.”

"That's so fucking cute," Jaskier sighed, still attacking the back of Geralt's leg, "Wouldn't have pegged you for a horse guy. What's their name?" 

The pain was easier to ignore when Geralt was rambling about Roach. Jaskier kept the conversation flowing, maybe indulging Geralt’s ramblings a little too much, but by the time he flipped Geralt over to do the inside of his knee they were joking and swapping disastrous college stories like old friends. They took a snack break where the purple eyed woman, Yennefer he'd learned, made fun of his zip shorts and Triss scolded her. It was nice, he felt oddly at home here with these people he’d just met. 

The front half of the tattoo was nothing compared to the back and Geralt was able to breathe and just chat. He did his best to convince himself that the feeling in his chest wasn’t disappointment when Jaskier finally finished and wrapped his leg in saniderm. 

Jaskier leaned on the front desk while they waited for Geralt’s card to run, "What are you doing after this?" 

Geralt's stomach turned with nervous excitement and he truly didn't know how he got his words to come out so casual, "Was just gonna get some ramen and watch reruns, why?" 

Jaskier worried at his bottom lip as he stapled the receipt to some paperwork, "There's a great ramen place around the corner and I don't have another appointment tonight…" 

Geralt positively beamed, "If you can stand to be seen with someone wearing zipper shorts in public, I'd love to."

[woozisnoots]

svt in college! | alex edition

° pairing: ot13 x reader ° genre: fluff(?), what my stream of consciousness finds funny, college!au ° word count: 1034 ° warning: slightttt violence ° a/n: i know i have requests to write >< but i really needed to write smth fun :( act as a shot of of serotonin into my veins ahahaha [insert fratboy emoji] disclaimer tho - this was ENTIRELY SELF INDULGENT and very very catered to me which is why vernon’s is unnecessarily long SO IM SORRY !!! i still hope you guys think its fun :D

° masterlist! 

seungcheol: a business major, minoring in international relations. has the slightest crush on you but suppresses it pretty well without you realizing because he knows you like someone else. he likes to take you on what he calls bestie dates to a nearby arcade or places to eat when you’re stressed.

jeonghan: a psych major, minoring in communications, whom you oddly spend a lot of time with because he asks for homework help every other day when you’ve only taken 1-2 psych classes in your entire life :P but he’s a good listener and subs in as therapist on the weekdays so you let him stick around. 

joshua: an english major. doesn’t know why and slightly regrets it but if it means he can keep the tinie bookshelf he has in his doom to make it look like he’s smart, then that’s motivation to keep him going. you tolerate him because you guys randomly go on trips at 2am and buys you food :D

jun: a childhood education major. the friend of a friend of a friend of someone’s cousin that happen to be your friend and so you see him at parties sometimes :) actually really fun to be around when you’re not too much into the party scene and play hopscotch or bean bag toss outside the persons’ backyard. 

soonyoung: the loud dance team captain that won’t give you 5 minutes of quiet time waiting for your chem professor to open the door to the lab room because he has his speakers on at max volume dancing to kelly clarkson,,,, he’s pretty chill otherwise, he’s in my math class. claims hes the eye of the tiger when he comes to class in leopard print

wonwoo: premed that’s somehow taking enough classes to graduate with a literature minor. he and cheol talk a lot because they’re in the same broadcasting club or something of the sort. you guys acknowledge each other’s presence and share a moment of tea together sometimes with cheol.

jihoon: double majoring in music composition and theory. says he absolutely hates it because he thinks the work he does is completely pointless. but then goes on to write you like 27484737 love songs within a week for a single assignment. denies to other people that you’re his best friend and that he hates your guts but you’re the only one allowed in his private studio on school days and can fiddle with his equipment sometimes :3

minghao: an art major minoring in history. eventually wants to be a gallery director so he can hold his own. you make him drag you everyone for his work when you’re bored or have free time bc he takes pictures for the school newspaper/website. you guys strike a negotiation that you drive and he buys snacks. 

mingyu: you only know him for playing in your uni’s (american) football team. his tall ass is like linebacker or some shit you don’t even know his major. you had to take a kickboxing class for PE credit and you swept him to the ground and put him a choke hold. you never let him live that down everrr. you also steal his lunch money from his bag when he’s at practice.

seokmin: a musical theatre major, minoring in music composition. you guys met through jihoon. you were absolutely FLOORED when you heard him sing as the lead for the school’s spring musical. it is now tradition that you guys get crepes after every show and make jihoon pay B) he hangs out with you and jihoon a lot and randomly make music together. and ahahaha people think jihoon and seokmin are fighting over you!! >:( that’s absolutely preposterous, seokmin is too good of a soul (you say this as you help him kneed dough for the pizza you guys are making together)

seungkwan: an education major, minoring in music because he wants to teach music to little kiddos ^-^ THE BESTEST OF THE BESTIES!!! like if you’re not hanging out with jihoon/seokmin or cheol, you crash at seungkwan’s apartment and raids his kitchen when you run out of groceries ;D he keeps making fun of you for your car until you remind him that he can’t drive. on the weekends, you guys love to bake muffin, cookie, or cake recipes to prep for the daycare on mondays :3

vernon: okay actually, he doesn’t go to college SHDJSJSHS you met him on the side of the road once when you decided to walk instead of using your car (silly you!) and you saw vernon doing some cool graffiti art (IT WASN’T VANDALISM!!!). which was a total coincidence because at that point, you were ready to take a bus and wait right at the bus stop where he set up. since it was a long wait, you guys talked and he kept you company. you learn that this is actually a big project he’s been working on and is finally getting paid big bucks for something he really likes doing. you learn that he’s a great conversationalist and you miss the bus first bus ride home and have to wait another hour or so whoops! this becomes more and more of a daily thing, slowly getting to know each other. fast forward months later and it’s your birthday :D and you don’t expect anything at all because how would he know, you don’t really like your birthday anyways UNTIL vernon surprises you with a spray paint drawing of your favorite animal! and then asks you out on a date and you guys fall deeply in love

chan: a linguistics major. yeah, he doesn’t know why either, he’s just rolling with it. says he’s liking it so far, but no one really knows if he’s lying or not, including yourself. you drag chan to college events like club fairs and rallies because you’re too embarrassed to go alone and no one else wants to go LOL he begs you to drive him places during your three day weekends because he always wants to go off campus and do stuff with you and the guy pals, but he doesn’t like the freeway :/ its fine though because he pays for gas. 

[mensobrush]

its like almost 12 am where im at but fuck it imma ask; if you don't mind do you have any show/book/series recs? most specifically art related bc whelp im just someone wanting to draw and your style is really clean and i lowkey kinda want to diversify my art so uh.

yeh.

Oh BOY have I got a list for you my friend

SHOWS: I'm not too sure about shows that would teach you art necessarily, but i know of a few that are ABOUT art and artists (forgive me because most of these are all anime lol):

1. Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken! - super cute anime about three high school girls working together to create an animated short film, there's a concept artist, animator, and manager and they have such distinct personalities! Highly recommend for anyone wanting to go into those fields 2. Blue Period - manga and upcoming anime about high school students trying to get into Japan's best fine art colleges. Lots of deep shit about what being an artist is about and delves into struggles like impostor syndrome and shit. Had to stop reading the manga because it hit too close to home and gave me nam flashbacks

3. Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki Kun - definitely less on the art side and more of a shoujo between a mangaka and his assistant - super cute

The next few are shows that aren't about art, but have distinct/outstanding art, animation, or cinematography and i highly recommend them for artists to watch:

4. Ping Pong the Animation - probably the most distinctive anime in terms of art style, definitely worth taking a look at!

5. Mob Psycho - highly mainstream but the animation for that anime is insane, especially for fight scenes!

6. Godless - live action western/cowboy limited series on Netflix, probably the show with the best cinematography I've ever seen

BOOKS

This I can probably give more info on! Keep in mind that most of these are geared toward concept art/illustration since that's what I mainly do, but all artists can benefit from having these:

1. Framed Ink and Framed Ink 2 by Marcos Mateu-Mestre - Books on composition, lighting, and storytelling! Must have for people interested in illustration and creating full pieces, and it goes into storyboarding as well!

2. How To Draw by Scott Robertson - THE book on perspective (disgusting, i know, but if you're a character person and you want to level up, perspective is worth learning)! It's definitely more on the advanced side, so I don't recommend it for beginners!

3. Stonehouse's Anatomy by Seok Jung Hyun - I don't personally own this one but I've heard VERY good things about it! I think it's also a pretty advanced level book, but feel free to challenge yourself if you wanna get it!

4. Bammes and Bridgman - Gottfried Bammes and George Bridgman are the people to go to when you're first wanting to get into human anatomy! They focus less on scientific latin muscle names or whatever and more on the gesture of the figure and simplifying body parts into simple shapes that are easy to put in perspective! You can get pdfs of their books for free online or buy them off amazon.

5. Any art book from games that you like - art books are literally a gift from amitabha y'all, they are so insightful into the concepting for games and some of them (coughs the Ghost of Tsushima one coughs) have ALL BANGER art in there and there's NO MISSES

The next ones are again, not necessarily art tutorial books but books with insane art in them:

6. Vagabond/anything by Takehiko Inoue - this man is a fucking god, a legend, his art is so fucking good and delicious and it never misses and he's cracked out of his mind and

SERIES

I don't really know what you mean by "series" so I'll just use this as an opportunity to highlight "series" of videos/channels that are highly helpful for artists:

1. 10 Minutes to Better Painting by Marco Bucci - Marco Bucci's videos are fucking awesome in general, but his 10 Minutes to Better Painting series condenses painting concepts into something concise and easily digestible, and they're incredibly helpful for general painting skills.

2. Proko's Anatomy Series - again, Proko is a great resource for everything art related but he specializes in anatomy and is probably the best resource for people starting out and wanting to jump into anatomy.

3. Draftsmen Podcast - Podcast by Proko and Marshall Vandruff, less direct art tutorials but more talking about artist mindsets (which is just as if no more important than practicing technique)

4. Sinix - not a series, but a channel on youtube! Sinix is great at condensing complicated shit into simple to understand, short videos! He also graduated from my college hehehe

5. Rossdraws - another alum from my school ;) I have many mixed opinions on Rossdraws, but he's pretty good for beginner artists! And his videos are fun to watch so there's that

I might add more onto this as i think of them but these are all I can think of off the top of my head! hope this helps :)

[blxetsi]

Hi! Can I please request modern au hcs for Armin?

tysm for requesting !!

modern armin arlert dating headcanons

lowercase intended !

college!armin arlert x gn!reader

- okay so

- i think in a college setting you and armin hit it off really well

- i think you guys wouldve just accidentally kept bumping into each other, whether it be around campus, at some coffee shop, in the library

- it gets so frequent you dont even know if its a coincidence at this point, yet you cant help but hope that you seem him whenever you go out

- after ALWAYS bumping into each other and apologizing before making small talk, armin makes the first move

- mf just says "are you following me ?" to which you reply "are YOU following me ?"

- that night ends in you two exchanging numbers 🤩

- you find out that hes a humanities major, and wants to be a psychologist some day

- you also find out he has a paid internship at a research facility near the university you attend

- hes super sweet but also super humble, so he tries not to keep the subject on himself for very long, just wanting to know more about you

- as you two get closer he gets more touchy (not in a weird way)

- he starts greeting you with hugs now, and likes to have a light grip on your wrist when hes leading you through crowded hallways of the school

- he introduced you to his bestfriends and roommates, mikasa and eren, and they were really accepting !! (they already could tell armin liked you even if he didnt know himself)

- you start developing feelings for him about two months after you exchanged numbers, and you honestly felt really weird

- because this beautiful boy whos so sweet and kind and intelligent is like,, wayyyy out of your league

- armin thinks the exact same thing

- he thinks youre so cool and fun to be around, you always have the best stories to tell and are so welcoming,, its HARD not to fall for someone like you !!

- finally he gets up the courage to ask if you can come to his apartment

- and there he confesses 😳💥‼️

- you sit there shocked for a couple seconds too long because now hes freaking out like "im so sorry i didnt wanna seem creepy i just wanted to tell you how i felt you can leave or i can walk you home- wait you probably wouldnt want that but-"

- you just kind of grab his shoulders and start shaking him. before you tell him you like him too.

- the apples of his cheeks turn pink before he smiles and gives you such a tight hug !!

- hes immediately planning a date with you for when youre both free

- takes you to the local aquarium 🤩 and kisses you in front of the moon jellies (u know those big tanks with the jellyfish that are like glow in the dark ?? and the whole hallway is pitch black except for the lights from the tank ?? yeah ❤️ he kissed you THERE and it was beautiful)

- has chapped lips 😐 sorry i dont make the rules

- has a habit of picking them when hes working or lost in thought

- doesnt mean you stop kissing him tho

- is the kind of guy that will genuinely get worried if you send an "sos" type message. gets out of his own class just to speedwalk (he isnt gonna break the rules and run in the halls 🙄) and come to your class just to see if youre okay

- looks at you like 😐 when you explain you just need him to get you an iced coffee from that shitty coffee place in the cafeteria

- does it anyway even though hes annoyed 😌✨

- will grumble about paying him back for the five dollars he just spent on you while you kiss him over and over again in thanks

- doesnt let you pay him back though smh 🙄

- loves to give back hugs

- will do it while youre working, or while youre doing the dishes

- if youre shorter than him he'll rest his head on your and just smell your hair

- if youre taller than him hes shoving his face inbetween your shoulder blades

- is such a lightweight drunk its not even funny

- none of his friends are tbh 🙄

- the first time you saw him drunk was when eren dragged you guys out to a party their friend was hosting (literally interrupted your cuddle time in armins bed to THROW OFF THE BLANKETS and say "you guys are coming with me 😁👍" and when you two said no he TURNED ON THE LIGHTS and ruined the vibe 😐 fucking asshole)

- anyways you two had to change back into your clothes at 9pm just to go to a shitty party that was gonna get busted by the cops anyways 😔💔

- you couldnt find him through the sea of people, and u got really worried until armin called you

- it was not armin on the other line 😁👍

- he said his name was reiner ?? and he said he was with armin bc he puked while playing beer pong

- the guy tells you where they are and you go to find them. theyre sitting on this couch in a backroom and theres only like,, five people in total there ??

- armin is SOBBING while reiner is trying to get him to drink water

- "reiner you dont get it,,, theyre so beautiful. i cant compete. i dont even think theyd wanna be with me. and you have to see them talk about their major. theyre so smart you dont understand." "okay buddy lets just finish this water okay ?"

- armin is leaning his shoulder on this GIANT of a man just going on about how much he loves you and how amazing he finds you. until you tap his shoulder. and then he realizes youve been listening this entire time. and then he starts crying because he doesnt want you to find him weird. and then you have to explain to him that you two are dating. where he doesnt believe you still.

- eren ends up giving you the keys to his car and saying "ill just call you when i need a ride back" and reiner CARRIES armin to the car 😭😭😭

- hes a real gentleman 😁👍

- that morning armin remembers EVERYTHING and is MORTIFIED

- calls reiner immediately like "did people see me puke ? oh god am i gonna be talked about ?"

- has very vivid dreams and remembers all of them ?? will literally tell you about a dream he had when he was five and WILL NOT forget a detail. its weird

- his family actually doesnt seem like they like you 😳 not because they dont theyre just very,, quiet people...... except for his grandfather

- doesnt even care who you are to armin, will pull you down on the couch with him to tell you about all his research and findings as an archeologist (before he retired)

- if youre ever feeling sad about anything, whether that be stress, family problems, or body image issues, armins taking you to his place 😁👍

- he'll cuddle you and whisper how much he loves you while you two are watching something on his laptop

- has acne scars on his shoulders. dont make fun of him for it pls

- loves getting back scratches though, the tingles make him feel really calm

- if you have like,, makeup brushes and stuff he likes it when you brush his face with them, no product or anything but the tingles he gets from it 🤤

- over time his parents warm up to you quiet a bit, and when his mom shows you baby photos and from him as a kid youre SHOCKED.

- he had this little bob cut from when he was ten to his teens 🥺🥺🥺🥺

- when you two are walking back home or wherever you cant help but go on about how cute he was and how healthy and pretty his hair looked (not that its not healthy or pretty now) and he just giggles before pulling you into his side and kissing your cheek while saying "okay baby, ill grow it out just for you then"

- also loves the petnames baby, angel, and love

- will gladly let you steal his sweaters. has a really nice knit one that his grandma made him before she died. that ones off limits.

- doesnt like to fight, but when he feels like hes in the right he wont hesitate to yell back when youre yelling at him

- just dont yell at him pls, it makes him sad

- it takes him a while (and by a while i mean like 30 minutes at most) before his texting you asking if you guys can talk about it

- its really easy for you two to make up, and immediately hes hugging you and just asking if you wanna do something with him

- also, cuts his own hair ?? and would cut yours if you asked. mikasa vouches for him "yeah he trims my hair all the time. why ?"

- every year on your anniversary hes taking you to the aquarium. and he always kisses you as softly as he did the very first time, in the dark hallway of the moon jellyfish tank ✨

a/n

THATS ITTT !!! thanks again for requesting !! i hope you all enjoyed. remember asks are open !! u dont have to request headcanons either !!! go crazy friends !!

[jean-kayak]

I Fell For You, No Literally

Summary: Your ex-boyfriend comes walking back into your life, causing a whole bunch of emotions to resurface

Pairing: Terushima Yuuji x black!fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of past relationships, like two handfuls of angst, real fluffy at the end, A LOT of dialogue at the end, Terushima being soft, brief mentions of sickness (like real brief), hurt/comfort, exes-to-lovers?, a huge misunderstanding, it gets really stressful at one point in this thing, implied past reader x oc, smut!, fingering (f. receiving), oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, squirting, overstimulation, little bit of aftercare, Terushima has a dick piercing LMAO, domestic things, mentions of alcohol consumption (reader gets drunk), it’s basically an emotional rollercoaster, Terushima being suggestive *sighs* i think i covered everything

Word Count: 12,881 (BITCH im sorry it wasn’t supposed to be this long)

A/N: This was originally going to be apart of the writing event that I was doing, but this was really long, and it took me a little bit longer than I thought so I figured I would just do it separately. And also I tried to do fluffy smut, I don’t really know if I did that lmao. But anyways, enjoy! 

P.S.: I also gave the reader a name bc this is really long!

All characters are 18+!!

"I think I have more lights in the back, I'll go get them," your best friend tells you, and you nod as you continue to hang up the lights on the top of your shop.

Although you realize your mistake when you lean over, and the ladder starts to slip. "Shit," you whisper, and you feel your heart drop, fear coursing through your body as you feel the ladder going down and not stopping.

You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for impact on the freezing cold concrete, but it never comes. "Oh, my God, are you okay?!" It's a deeper voice, and you open your eyes to see that you're nowhere near the ground and that you're in someone's arms.

You're still a bit shaken from the fear of the fall, but the voice and the scent are all too familiar and it brings you back fairly quickly. You look up and see a face that you never thought you'd see again.

"You know, I'd always say you'd fallen for me," he quips, and you roll your eyes as you try to squirm out of his grip. "Wait, where you going? I like holding you like this." You chuckle softly as you roll your eyes playfully, and he lets you down. "But seriously, are you okay?"

You release a deep breath. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for saving me, Terushima."

He takes a few steps closer to you. "Come on, baby, you don't have to be so formal with me." You scoff as you take a step back, fully taking him in.

Terushima Yuuji. Your ex-boyfriend. Your relationship lasted all through high school and your first year of college until things went rocky. You prefer not to think about the details, but you can't not think about how good he looks right now.

He's still blond, with the undercut, and piercings, and even through his winter clothes, you can tell he's filled out a lot since you last saw him. Matter of fact, how long has it been? Three, four years?

"Three and a half," you flinch slightly. Shit, were you thinking out loud? His eyes rake down your figure, and even in the cold, you can feel the heat course through your body. "You look good."

"So do you," you reply, not really knowing what to say. How are you even supposed to talk to your exes? You've had others besides him, but you haven't made contact with them since you called it off.

There's a weird tension in the air, and you don't know what to say to break it, but luckily Kiya comes out of your shop, her eyes widening when they land on Terushima. "Oh, now, this is a surprise," she says, smirking as she looks between the two of you. "What brings you here?"

"Oh, you know, just being her knight in shining armor and catching her from falling off the ladder," he tells her smugly, and she looks at you in horror.

"Via, what did I tell you about doing things on the ladder without me watching you?" she scolds, and you shrug as you kick at the ground.

"I'm sorry, okay? And besides, I think that's enough lights for the front don't you think?" you ask, looking at the front of the shop to take in your work. Kiya follows suit, taking in the lights.

"Yeah, they look good. And I would tell you good job, but you almost killed yourself in the process." You roll your eyes again as you scoff. "Thank you, Terushima," she says, and he waves her off.

"Any time." So he still has that smug, confident personality. That hasn't changed much. You clear your throat as you gesture to the door.

"Well, I should probably open up shop. Thank you, Terushima, I really appreciate you catching me."

"C'mon, what'd I tell you about the name?" You tilt your head as you raise an eyebrow.

"See ya around, Terushima." And you're walking through the door.

Kiya comes in behind you a few seconds later, and you just brace yourself for the conversation that's about to happen and is going to last at least twenty minutes. "Holy crap, he is still hot as hell." You sigh as you put on your apron. You don't respond, and she knows you're agreeing with her, so he continues talking.

"No, Kiya, don't even go there."

"What? What's wrong with rekindling the flame, at least a little?"

"You remember how we left off," you remind her, and you see her wave you off before washing her hands.

"Okay, that was a few years ago. People change."

You scoff. "Yeah, I doubt he's changed." The conversation is quickly put to bed as people start to come in, and you submerge yourself in your cooking.

This week was your shopping week, but Kiya had family things so you're at the store by yourself, collecting a ton of food to stockpile for the shop. You feel a headache coming on as you cross out another item off the list, your vision full of lines every time you look up from the crumpled piece of paper.

You also have to carry and put all of these groceries in your car, and you want to whine in annoyance, that headache starting to beat behind your eyelids, and the cold isn't helping either. "You look like you could use some help, m'lady." You sigh heavily, recognizing the voice immediately.

"You're not following me are you, Terushima?" you ask, playfully, but a part of you is serious.

"Of course not, but it seems that whenever you're in trouble, I'm always around." You let out a surprised laugh, but you don't turn your attention to him, keeping it focused on putting the groceries in your car. "Let me help you," he offers, already moving to grab a bag, but you stop him.

"I got it, it's fine. Thanks anyway," you quickly tell him before catching your breath and starting again.

"Via, seriously, let me help you." Your movements falter at the nickname. Even though everyone calls you that, it always sounded different coming from him. You want to scoff at how easily your body reacted to it. You don't have the energy to fight, so you scoot over, giving him enough room to help pile the bags in your car. "So, you have your own shop," he starts, and is he really trying to make casual conversation right now?

"Yeah, I do," you respond, deciding to partake in whatever this is.

"American, right?" he asks, and you hate how he still remembers, and you drop the bag into your car a little bit more aggressively.

"Yeah. We have Japanese as well, but Kiya knows more about that than I do." He helps you put the last bag in, closing the trunk shut and returning the shopping cart.

"Well, that's great. I'm happy for you," he tells you when he gets back, and you nod as you purse your lips.

"Thanks." And there's that awkward tension again. Why was he trying to act like everything was normal? Why is he talking to you like nothing happened between you two? "Listen, Te--" You're cut off by his phone ringing, and he quickly fishes his phone out of his pocket and grimacing when he looks at the screen.

"I have to take this, uh--"

You cut him off with a wave of your hand. "Go ahead, it's okay. Thanks again," you say, quickly signaling the end of whatever this conversation was. You don't give him another look, turning around and getting into your car, thankful that it's still warm. You crank the car up and you look out the window as you do, seeing Terushima walking away on the phone.

You rest your forehead against the steering wheel. What are the fucking chances that he out of all people would walk back into your life? You take another deep breath. Thinking about it too much will only make your headache worse. You give him one last glance before driving off, hoping that you're actually getting away from him this time.

~

"You saw him again at the store?" Kiya asks, her eyes wide as she sits up on the couch. You roll your eyes from exhaustion as you stab your fork into your takeout.

"Yes, he said it's like whenever I'm in trouble, he's always around." You stab your food again, but you don't know if it's out of annoyance or anger this time.

"Okay, Via, come on, this is like a sign, isn't it?" You give her a look before shaking your head. "Why not?"

"Kiya, you were there through all of it. He's...he's not--he's probably still the same," you say, trailing off quietly, and Kiya's face turns into concern as she finally sees that the hurt you've tried to push back down is now coming to the surface. She moves closer to you on the couch before wrapping an arm around you, pulling you into her.

"You're right. I'm sorry, I just thought, maybe this one could be different. Different from those other douches you were seeing." You huff slightly, a smile forming on your face as you remember everything she said about what she didn't like about every last one of your exes.

Some of them were just flings, others could've easily gone further, but they always broke it off. You don't really know the reason, but you've sort of come to terms with it. Maybe dating just isn't your thing right now. "Yeah, I know," you say, burrowing yourself further into her embrace. "It's just, I don't know, what if it happens all over again?"

"If that does happen again, then I'll actually kill him this time." Both of you laugh at her words before she speaks up again. "But, all that aside, it's up to you what you want to do. Don't listen to me, I'm just the crazy best friend."

Your smile grows wider. "Crazy, you definitely are."

"Hey!" she says, shoving you away playfully, and you both dive back into laughter as you finish your takeout and the cheesy rom-com playing on the TV.

You sigh as you wipe off the bar counter, the shop quiet due to the fact that you're about an hour and a half from closing. You usually enjoy the serenity, grateful that it's not a rush like it is during mid-morning, lunch, and dinner. Around this time, you and Kiya usually get a chance to sit down and take a break.

You finish scrubbing off a stubborn stain on the counter when you hear the door open. "Welcome, I'll be with you in a moment," you greet out of habit without even looking up as you turn around to throw the rag into the sink.

"The place looks great." The familiar voice almost makes you stop in your tracks, but you recover quickly, wiping your hands off on a towel before turning to see Terushima sitting in the middle of the bar counter. You walk over to him, standing right in front of the counter, feeling like the counter isn't a big enough gap between the two of you.

"Thank you," you tell him honestly as you plant your hands on the edge of the counter. "What can I get for you?"

He smirks at you before he answers. "We both know you already know what I want," he says confidently, and you want to punch yourself because of the fact that you still know what his favorite food is even after you've been broken up.

"Coming right up." You turn around quickly, getting started on his order so that you can get him out of here as fast as possible before Kiya can see him. Unfortunately, that isn't the case, and she comes waltzing in from her office, her eyebrows raised high.

"Oh?" she starts, her voice a whisper. "What's he doing here?" she asks, and you shrug.

"I dunno. He just walked in here like a few minutes ago." You turn your head to look at him over his shoulder, and you see that he's taken off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. You notice that he's got a tattoo on his left arm that snakes all around his upper arm. Yeah, he's definitely gotten bigger since you've last seen him.

He looks up from his phone, catching you in the act, and he smirks at you before flexing his muscles, and your face heats up quickly, your head turning back to what you're doing. "He actually ordered something?" Kiya asks playfully with a huff, and you return it as you flip the patty.

"Yeah, I was surprised too. I thought he'd be here to bother me again," you admit.

"Which is what you would've wanted, right?" she teases, and you shove at her which makes her laugh, and yours soon follows.

"You guys talking about me?" you hear him speak up, and you roll your eyes with a scoff as you glance at him.

"Yeah," Kiya starts, "we were talking about how we could've closed up early if it weren't for you," she tells him, and you chuckle softly as you continue cooking.

"Well, I had to try the food for myself," he responds, and Kiya hums as she nods, obviously believing that he's not telling the entire truth. She starts to walk away back towards her office, but not before she nudges you softly, wiggling her eyebrows at you. You give her a look before waving her off.

Once she's left, you shudder lightly, feeling his eyes on you. You know he's watching you and everything you're doing. His eyes never leave you, watching you as you move along through the kitchen. You can't remember the last time you felt so heated under someone's gaze.

But you do remember that it took absolutely nothing for you to melt for him, and you internally shake the thoughts that are starting to pool into your head. You finish his food, sliding the plate to him softly, his drink following shortly. "Enjoy," you tell him easily, and he starts speaking before you can turn around.

"Thanks, but I think there's something that I want that's not on the menu." You roll your eyes, knowing what he's implying, but you play dumb anyway, leaning forward on the counter, resting your chin in your palm.

"Oh, and what would that be?" you ask, and he's leaning in, his face dangerously close to yours. He moves his eyes from yours to your lips before bringing them back up to your eyes. You feel your breath starting to pick up, your mouth falling open slightly, but you don't move away from him. You can't.

And then he's smirking at you again, and your knees almost give out. "You."

There's a knock on the door, and you let out an exasperated sigh that echoes throughout the walls of your apartment. You grab the baby currently sitting on the floor in the middle of your living room as another knock comes from the door. "I'm coming! Just give me a second!" you yell, your thin patience starting to disappear.

You walk to the door, yanking it open, getting ready to yell at whoever is presently throwing a monkey wrench into your day. "What are you doing here?" you deadpan, blinking a few times in confusion as you take in Terushima standing outside your apartment. "Actually, how do you even know where I live?"

He has the actual audacity to look sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck as he looks down. "I may or may not have gotten it from Kiya." You roll your eyes. Of course, it would be her. You really are going to kill her. Your niece starts fussing and you sigh. You really don't have time for this right now.

"If you wanna come in, come in," you rush out as you make your way back into your apartment. You vaguely hear the sound of the door closing and some footsteps, but you pay the sounds no mind as you set your niece in her high chair.

The first thing Terushima didn't expect when the door swung open was for you to have a baby in your arms. That alone almost distracted him from how you looked. Your hair was thrown together in a ponytail, curls falling out of it. Your shirt is covered in all kinds of stains, along with the sweatpants you're currently wearing, but Terushima thinks that you look amazing.

He slips off his coat and his shoes, throwing his scarf over his jacket before slowly making his way into the kitchen where you disappeared to. He takes in your apartment, the decorating and furnishing matching your personality to a T. The sound of fussing brings his attention to the baby that you were holding not too long ago, and he hears you speak.

"I know you're hungry, sweet girl," you say, opening the fridge. "What do you want?" you ask her even though you know she can't respond. Terushima smiles fondly as he sits down next to her, resting his arms on the island in front of him. "You want bananas?" You lift your head to look at her, and when she fusses, you try again. "How about peas and carrots?" Both her and Terushima's face screw up, and you smile softly as you turn back towards the fridge.

"Let's see," you bend over to look further into the fridge, and his eyes zero in on your ass before he snaps himself out of it. "Strawberries?" you ask hopeful, and when she laughs lightly, you smile before pulling out the container and warming it up with your hands as you bump the fridge closed.

You walk over to a drawer, opening it to pull out a small spoon before bumping it closed with your hip. The movement makes your boobs sway, and Terushima can't help but notice that he can see your nipples through your thin t-shirt. "Eyes up here, perv." Your words jolt him out of his spell, and he smirks at you as he shrugs.

"What can I say? They're nice tits." You scoff at his words, trying to fight the heat rising in your cheeks that he was checking you out, and it dawns on you how you actually look right now. You feel a little bit embarrassed, but the damage is already been done, and could you really blame yourself? You've been watching a baby all day.

Satisfied with your reaction, he turns to your niece, leaning forward to pinch her cheek softly, which makes her laugh. "And who is this pretty lady?" he asks as you smile at the interaction before walking to stand at the opposite side of the island.

"This is my niece, MJ." You set down the container of mushed food, taking off the lid before swirling around the food. You look up to see Terushima hold out a finger which she immediately grabs onto, and she smiles widely at him. "She seems to like you," you comment, feeling conflicted at the way your heart skips at their interactions. "You wanna feed her?"

You push the bowl his way, and he picks up the spoon with his other hand, his finger on his hand still being held hostage by your niece's hand. He feeds her with ease, and she even seems to be accepting the food a lot better from him than from you. "Do you think you could watch her while I get in the shower?" you ask. "I'll be quick, I promise."

"Yeah, go ahead. We'll be fine," he tells you without even looking your way.

"Are you sure?"

He finally looks at you after wiping some of the food off of her face with the spoon. "I'm sure, Via. I can handle it. Go do what you need to do." He quickly turns his attention back to MJ, and you quickly dart out of the kitchen making your way to your room.

You've been in the shower for about ten minutes, and the only thing Terushima keeps thinking about is the water running down your naked body, and he keeps shaking his head, forcing the images out of his head.

MJ's already eaten all of the food, and Terushima lightly presses on her stomach, seeing that she's completely full, and he looks around to see all of her toys in the living room. He finds the baby wipes, cleaning her up before he takes her out of the high chair and carries her to the living room.

He sets her down on the blanket you have out for her, and she immediately moves towards one of the toys as he sits on the floor next to her. Terushima's plan was mostly to bother you when he came over, and the last thing he expected was for him to be babysitting. He doesn't mind it though, he'll take any time he can spend with you. He'll take as much as he can in order to try to get you back.

He doesn't really know why he came to America, but part of him knows it was because of you. He knows that after you both graduated college, you moved back here and started your own shop. He hates how things ended between the two of you, and he wants to fix it, but he knows he's going to work hard especially because of how bad he hurt you.

He's been punching himself for three and a half years because of how stupid he was back then. If he could back in time and punch himself, he would curb stomp himself instead. He notices that he doesn't hear the water running anymore, and then he hears a door open. And he thought the clothes you had on before made you look good.

You walk out into the living room, your hair damp from the shower, and you're wearing a tank top and shorts, and he's glad you have a bra on this time. You're definitely not the same girl he dated back then. At all. "She wasn't too much trouble?" Your words jolt him out of his trance, and he forces himself to look at your eyes.

"No, she was not," he says, standing up before picking her up. He plants a small kiss on her head, but she's preoccupied with the toy in her hands to notice. "She was an angel." You sigh in relief, and Terushima moves her higher up on his hip. "Were you cooking something before I got here?" he asks, recalling something smelling really good vaguely filling his nostrils. Now, that smell has been replaced by your scent due to the fact you're standing so close to him.

"I was," you say, turning to walk into the kitchen, and he follows behind you while MJ smacks him in the face. "It was a new recipe," you continue, opening the oven. Terushima almost delays his response, his eyes zeroing on your ass again, but he manages to catch himself.

"New recipe for what?" he asks, and he's thankful when you stand up straight even though it's not that much better. When you set the pan down on the stove, you glance behind you nervously before speaking.

"It was a new recipe for cheeseburgers," you say, and he almost misses it, but he smirks as he walks around the island to stand beside you. You'd been keeping the burgers in the oven to keep them warm, and he looks down at them.

"They look really good," he comments. "You weren't thinking about me, were ya?" He has to jab at you, loving your reaction as you glare at him before looking down. "Can I try it?" he asks, and you nod before getting a knife to cut the burger in half. You grab a piece, bringing it to his mouth, and he puts the whole piece in his mouth, making sure to wraps his lips around your fingers briefly before pulling away.

The action has you feeling things that you shouldn't, and the moan he releases while he closes his eyes doesn't help either. "Oh, my God, that is amazing."

You feel your heart flutter at the compliment. "Really?" you ask softly, and he looks at you like you're crazy.

"Are you serious? This is the best thing I've ever tasted." He grabs the other half, stuffing it in his mouth before you can stop him. "Wow, you really are an amazing cook." You hate how easily your face heats up at the praise, and you just respond with a shrug. He reaches for another burger, and you grab his wrist before he can grab another one.

"You can't eat all of these!" you chastise. "I can make you some if you want me to." He uses the fact that you're still holding onto his wrist as an advantage, yanking his arm forward which causes you to bump into him. He barely moves, just wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him.

"That sounds good. Thanks." You both lose yourselves in each other's eyes, time seeming to slow down as you feel your body going warm all over. God, you both missed being close to each other like this. You feel yourself starting to lean closer to him, your breaths started to mingle when MJ cries out, startling the both of you out of the spell you were in.

You jump away from him as you slightly shake your head. You did not almost kiss him. You quickly turn your attention to your niece, plucking her from his arm before walking back to the living room. Terushima sighs heavily as he puts the tray back into the oven, giving himself something to do to try to distract himself.

What would've happened if he had kissed you? Would you have kissed him back, or would you have pushed him away? He knows he's making some progress, but he doesn't know if kissing you would've ruined all of that. Do you want to kiss him? He sure wants to kiss you. He hasn't felt your lips on his in so long, and he wants to feel them so bad.

He forces those thoughts out of his head, and just as he's about to walk back into the living room, there's a knock on the door. "I'll get it," he tells you when he sees you about to stand up. He jogs to the door, and he opens it before almost being knocked down by two kids running past him.

"Boys, what did I tell you about that--Terushima?" The voice is filled with shock and confusion, and when he steadies himself, he looks at who's standing in front of him.

"Autumn?" he asks, and he steps to the side to let her in, closing the door behind him. "It's been a minute," he says, and she scoffs.

"It's been longer than a minute," she says almost in disbelief that he's standing in front of her. You walk to your sister with her daughter in your arms with your eyebrows raised.

"Aut, you wanna explain what this is?" you ask, gesturing towards the noisy boys running through your apartment. They run into your legs, both grabbing one, luckily you don't falter, still glaring holes into your sister.

"Auntie Via!" they both yell at the same time, Terushima wincing at the loud volume, and Autumn gives you a sheepish look.

"Look, something came up at the last minute, and I didn't know what else to do," she tells you, and you blink slowly.

"We have another sibling!" you argue, and she smiles at you.

"Yeah, but I don't trust him as much as I trust you," she says like that'll work, and you give her a deadpanned look. "I'm sorry, but I shouldn't be long, I promise. I owe you one," she continues, and you sigh as you roll your eyes.

"Fine," you give in, and she jumps up before giving you a hug on the side that isn't holding her daughter. She starts to head towards the door, and she waves goodbye to her kids, who really aren't paying her any mind, and she quickly slips out the door before they can see that she's leaving.

Your nephews are now focused on Terushima, prodding him with questions about his piercings and his tattoos. "I'm sorry about this," you tell him, and he looks up at you as he shrugs.

"I don't mind. I can stay if you want me to." He moves to go to the living room, but the boys jump on his legs, and he has to drag them to the living room as he walks.

"I can't ask you to do that," you say, smiling at him and your nephews.

"That's okay," he says, "You're not asking me. I'll stay," he concludes before sending a wink over his shoulder.

~

Turns out Autumn's "I won't be long" turned into five hours. Yeah, she definitely owes you. You're thankful that Terushima stayed, he was able to occupy the kids while you got stuff done that you had planned to do today. But you also hate how domestic it all felt, and it makes your heart do something weird. Like it doesn't know how to feel about the whole thing.

He even somehow managed to feed MJ while keeping your nephews distracted so that you could make dinner. You all eat in the living room, watching a movie that's more so for the boys, while MJ keeps herself entertained in her bouncer. When you all have finished, Terushima takes the dishes and even washes them before planting himself right next to you on the couch.

You notice that MJ is starting to get sleepy, she keeps rubbing her eyes and her bouncing is beginning to slow down. You grab her out of the bouncer, rocking her softly until she falls asleep. You're so glad that she doesn't fight sleep like her brothers did. You start to feel tired yourself, your eyelids feeling heavy, and Terushima seems to notice because he wraps his arm around you, pulling you into him.

You don't even fight it, his body heat pulling you further into sleep. As you're drifting off, you feel someone moving your arm, and you look down to see your nephews laying on either side of you and Terushima, laying down in your laps. You smile fondly as you rub his back before laying your head down on Terushima's shoulder. And before you fully fall asleep, you feel him kiss your forehead.

When Autumn uses her key to get into your place, she doesn't expect to see all of you asleep on the couch along with a questionable guy, but she can't help but smile as she pulls out her phone to take a picture. Once she's got them, she flicks your forehead. Your face scrunches up before you're blinking sleepily. "Oh, hey, you're back," you say, your voice filled with sleep. "Took you long enough."

She laughs quietly as she grabs MJ. "I know, I'm sorry," she whispers. "The twins weren't too much trouble, were they?" she asks, rocking her daughter back to sleep when she stirs.

"Then they usually are? No, not this time." You both exchange a soft chuckle before you carefully remove yourself out of Terushima's grip, not wanting to wake him, and you freeze when he shifts, but he just rolls his head to face the other way.

You help Autumn load her kids in the car, all of them still fast asleep. "I think they've only been asleep for about thirty minutes," you guestimate and she nods, but you know she wants to talk to you about the massive elephant in the room. You sigh. "Go ahead. Let it out."

"What the hell is he doing here? And in your apartment of all places?" You can hear a faint sound of disappointment in her voice considering the fact that you told her what he did to you and what led to your breakup.

You throw your hands up as you shrug. "I don't know. I didn't even know he was here. I found out when he caught me after I fell off my ladder." Her eyes go wide, and you wave her off before she can yell at you. "I didn't know he would be coming over here today either," you admit, and you sigh as you shove your hands into your jacket pockets.

"I just don't want you to get hurt again," she says, and you nod. "You've got nearly four years unaccounted for." You nod again, understanding what she's saying.

"I know, I know, but I don't know. He seems different now," you explain lamely, and you hear her sigh before you raise your head to meet hers.

"I know you don't want to hear a lecture from me, but be careful Via," she warns, and you nod firmly before moving in to give her a hug. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Text me when you get home," you tell her when you pull away. You watch her get in the car and drive off. You sigh again, watching the puff of air disappear into the chilly, night air before you make your way back to your apartment. You smile softly when you see that Terushima is still in the same position you left him in.

You take off your jacket, warming your hands up as you walk over to him. "Teru," you whisper, and when he doesn't respond, you tap him lightly. "Teru," you repeat, and you jump slightly when he grabs your wrist quickly, and he peels his eyes open.

"Your hands are freezing." You chuckle lightly as you see him look around. "The kids are gone?" he asks, rubbing his eyes with his palm.

"Yeah, my sister came and got them." He hums before he starts smiling widely, and your eyebrows come together as you look at him. "What are you smiling about?"

"You called me Teru." You feel your face heat up for the millionth time, and you scoff softly as you move to turn away, but he stops you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards him. He starts to stretch out on the couch, but you don't move, and he pulls you down with a little more force. "Lay with me," he murmurs, his body starting to drift off.

"You need to go home," you tell him, the nickname on the tip of your tongue, but you bite it back. He whines before pulling you down, making you fall onto him, and he traps you with his arms.

"I'll go home when I'm not tired." You chuckle again, situating yourself so that you're comfortable, and you notice that he's staring at you.

"What?" you ask, fighting the urge to shrink under his gaze. He brushes a strand of hair from your face before he rubs your cheek softly with his thumb, and you lean into the touch.

"You're just so beautiful," he whispers, and you huff as you look away, even your ears heating up at the compliment. "Hey." He turns your face so that you're looking at him again. "Can I kiss you?" There's something in your head that's telling you that you're already too deep and that doing this is a really bad idea, but it doesn't win.

You both lean in, and when your lips meet, you feel like you're back in high school, kissing him for the first time all over again. Tingles are sent all through your body as you sigh contently, and you feel yourself falling in love with him all over again. You know this is bad, but you can't bring yourself to care, blaming it on your fatigue.

He pulls away, a sleepy smirk on his face as he pulls you closer to him, your face buried in his neck. "Man, I've missed you so much." You feel your heart flutter at his words, and you're scared to respond with the same thing even though it's clear as day, but the soft snores filling your ears tell you that you don't have to worry about response right now.

Things seemed to do a complete one-eighty after that night. You thought when you would've woken up the next day, things would've been awkward, but to your surprise, you found yourself alone on the couch, and the smell of breakfast food filling your nose. He had made you breakfast, then sent you off to work with a kiss goodbye and a promise to call you later, which you wish you've would've let out when you were telling everything to Kiya.

"So, you guys are dating now?" she asks as she pours a cup of coffee for a customer.

"I don't know, I wouldn't call it that?" you say, unsure of where you both really stand right now. You serve two more plates to a table, and Kiya continues the conversation when you come back.

"But you guys have kissed?" she argues, and you respond with a shrug. "I don't know, from what you've told me, it seems like you two are back together."

"You don't sound very enthusiastic about it," you notice, and she replies with a pout as she tilts her head and you sigh. "Look, I know how things left off between us, but we'll talk about it," you try, and she holds her hands up.

"I'm not trying to tell you who to date or what to do. I just want you to be careful." You nod quickly at the repeat of words, and you really appreciate how much Kiya and Autumn care for you, and you smile as you nudge her.

"I know, thanks for looking out for me," you tell her, and she gives you a smile.

"Of course, that's what I'm here for."

Naturally, things are very prone to blow up in your face, and the blow-up happens about three weeks later. Everything with Terushima has been going pretty smoothly, both of you agreeing to talk about how things were left those years ago. He had been spending a lot more time over at your place, even more than you were spending at his. He'd been helping you babysit whenever your sister had to drop them off. It was like he had inched his way back into your life and planted himself there.

You decided to surprise him and make some of the burgers that he loved the first he came over. You can't help but bound happily to his apartment, the burgers in a plastic container, warm in your hands, and you finally get to his apartment, but just as you're about to knock, you hear laughing. Your hand stops midway as you lean in to put your ear against the door, careful not to alert anyone inside.

You assume it was the TV, but as you listen closely, you can hear Terushima's voice, but you feel your heart shatters when you hear a woman's voice coming from inside. You feel the tears forming in your eyes as you take in more of the conversation before you hear them erupt into laughter.

You finally find it in you to move, slamming the container on the ground before hurrying away from the door, your vision blurry from the tears. You were so stupid, so pathetic. You were so easy, that you fell for it. Again. And you thought that he had changed. You were dumb enough to think that things would be different this time around.

~

You don't tell anyone what happened, and you don't talk to Terushima. You don't even tell him what you heard, you just stop talking to him. It's not like you had time anyway. You and Kiya were hosting a Christmas party are your shop (her idea, not yours) and you barely had any time to really sit down and breathe. You both spent all day making the food, that you barely had time to sit down.

You luckily had enough time to run home and get in the shower to get ready. You came back just in time for the party to be in full swing, both you and Kiya's families here along with some friends. You've greeted everyone, and now you're just standing around, enjoying the atmosphere around you, while at the same time feeling a little bit insecure about the dress that Kiya made you wear.

It's a red sweater dress that's off the shoulder, but it hugs your body, stopping very close to the bottom of your ass with thigh-high boots. Why she had you wear this, you have no idea, but you decide that you're going to go change when she's preoccupied. "Via." You turn around, your heart dropping at the sight of him in front of you, and you hate how good he looks right now.

He walks closer to you, and his scent fills your nostrils, the way he fills out his suit should be illegal. "You look, wow," he says, shaking his head at a loss for words.

"Ridiculous, I know," you say, pulling at the hem of your dress and he scoffs.

"Gorgeous." You want to accept the compliment, but just looking at him makes you angry and upset at the same time. You mumble a soft thanks, and you're trying to find an excuse to get out of this conversation when he speaks up again. "You haven't been answering my texts or my calls," he starts, and you look away from him as you find an answer.

"Terushima, listen--"

"Via?" You turn your head towards the soft voice, and your eyes widen at the man walking towards you. He gives you a hug, and you reluctantly hug him back, disarray raging inside of your head.

"Kaleb! What are you doing here?" you ask incredulously, and he gives you a quick look of confusion before it's replaced with a smile.

"You invited me?" You raise your eyebrows. You did not invite this man to this party. You didn't even invite Terushima, and they coincidentally show up here? You internally roll your eyes. Kiya.

"I did, didn't I?" you lie. "Right, I'm sorry, I forgot, I've just been so busy." You haven't spoken to Kaleb in about a month. He was the recent guy you were seeing, and he was alright, but he really wasn't your type. You didn't even have his number saved in your phone. You sense even more tension in the air as Terushima and Kaleb stare each other down, and you definitely need way more alcohol.

"Terushima this is Kaleb. Kaleb this is Terushima." They both shake each other's hand, but the tension only seems to get thicker, and you feel like you're suffocating in it.

"If you guys would excuse me for a minute. I'm just going to check on the food," you rush out, not waiting for a response before darting off to find the culprit. When you spot her, you yank her to the side, and if looks could kill she'd drop dead on the spot. "You invited them both here?!" you yell, making sure to keep your voice lower than the music.

"Both? Who are you talking about?" You rub your forehead, feeling the stress really starting to hit you. This was the last thing you expected and you really don't need this right now.

"You invited Terushima and the guy that I ghosted a while ago." You sigh heavily, rubbing the back of your neck as her eyes go wide.

"Oh, shit. I did accidentally text a wrong number by accident, but I thought it was nothing." You give her a tired look, and she tilts her head in confusion. "I mean, it's gonna be okay, but you sound even more frustrated."

You sigh again. This really isn't the place to tell her, but you were going to tell her eventually. "I heard a woman's voice when I went to Terushima's apartment a couple of days ago."

"What?!" she nearly screams, her eyes wide before she slaps a hand over her mouth, realizing how loud she was. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. Because there was just a lot going on, and I didn't want to be sad during the holidays or ruin yours, but that plan has failed miserably." You laugh bitterly, feeling completely drained.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Via. I didn't know." She reaches up to rub your arm as you shake your head.

"No, it's okay. You didn't know." You close your eyes as you take a deep breath, regrouping yourself. "It's okay. We'll worry about it later, 'kay?" You don't let her answer as you walk off, ignoring her calls of your name.

You linger around the party, hoping you don't run into Terushima, but your eyes land on him talking to your mom like they've been friends for years, and it feels like someone ripped your heart out of your chest. How could he just go about his life knowing that he was playing you? Just like he did before.

"Via?" A soft voice and soft hand shift your attention to Kaleb who's come up next to you, and you smile despite the fact that you feel like complete shit and that you're tired. Physically, mentally, and emotionally.

"Hi, Kaleb, what's up?" you ask, and he hands you a drink which you gratefully take, almost downing the whole thing in front of him.

"It's just, um, you're standing somewhere pretty cool." You look at him in confusion before you glance up, seeing mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. Kiya must've put this in last minute. You feel your stress building up as you look at him, chuckling softly.

"I guess I am." You know he's going to kiss you, and you've never been so conflicted in your entire life. You don't really want to, but you want to, secretly hoping that Terushima's watching so that he can feel how you're feeling right now. But at the same time, you just wanna go home and cry yourself to sleep.

You've been quiet, your thought preventing you from answering, and you feel his lips on yours, and you feel your body sag slightly at the fact that you don't feel a spark from kissing him unlike when you kiss Terushima. When you pull away, you just happen to look to your right to see a very pissed off Terushima.

You see him shake his head before heading out of the door, and you hand your drink to Kaleb. "I'm sorry, I have to do something, I'll be right back." You rush to the door, disregarding your jacket as you follow Terushima out. "You got a problem or something?" you ask angrily, and he stops in his tracks, his back facing you for a few seconds before he turns around.

"Yeah, I do. You're over here leading me on while you're kissing other guys." You scoff at his accusation.

"Oh, like you're not doing the same thing," you spit back, and he raises his eyebrows at you.

"Excuse me? I haven't been seeing anyone else besides you, but you obviously have other plans."

"You know you have some real balls to accuse me of leading you on when that's all you did the entire time we were dating." He goes to speak, but you cut him off. "No! You entertained girls all the time, sometimes right in front of me. How you reacted to them is not how you're supposed to react when you have a girlfriend. Do you know how pathetic I felt?!" The tears are spilling, and you don't have any more will to stop them.

"I felt so stupid. You made me feel so...ugly." You see his face soften, but you don't wanna hear what he has to say. "And you're accusing me when you had a girl in your apartment a couple of days ago." His eyes widen at that, and he stops his trek towards you.

"What are you talking about?" You scoff as you throw your hands up. You'll have to spell this one out for him too.

"I went to your apartment to give you the burgers that you wanted, but when I went to knock on the door, I heard your voice laughing with another woman's voice." You see his face drop in realization, and he starts to wave his hands. "Did you both enjoy my burgers?" you ask, your voice cracking as more tears fall down your face.

Terushima recalls hearing something fall outside of his door, and when he opened it, he saw the burgers, but he didn't think anything of it. He should've been more aware. How could he be so stupid?

"Wait, Via, baby, that wasn't what it looked like, I swear--"

You chuckle bitterly. "You expect me to believe that?! Because that was the same shit you told me four years ago!" You're past done. You're exhausted. "Fuck you, Yuuji Terushima for being the same piece of shit guy you were four years ago! And for breaking my heart again." Your voice breaks when you say again, and Terushima feels his heart breaking into a million pieces. "I never want to see your face again."

You turn around quickly making your way back into your shop while Terushima stands there frozen, letting you walk out of his life once again. The words you just spoke to him the exact same words you said back then. He feels the tears on his face before he registers them. How could this happen? How did it all go so wrong so fast?

You walk back into the party, thankful that you didn't put mascara on as you wipe your face off, and Kiya walks up to you. "Girlfriend, are you okay?!" she asks you, concern etched all over her face as she pulls you to the side.

"No, I'm not," you tell her honestly. "But, this is a party, and we're supposed to have fun. So, that's what I'm going to do." For what seems like the tenth time tonight, you walk off without waiting for a response.

After everyone left the party, that's when you decided to get yourself drunk. You usually don't drink this much, but you couldn't bring yourself to think about anything else. Kiya takes you home, and she stays with you as you scream, cry, rant until you finally crash on your bed due to a mix of the alcohol and your emotions being all over the place.

She sighs worriedly at your figure, and sits next to you on the bed, brushing her hand over your head before your face which is stained with tear tracks. Your phone on your nightstand rings and Kiya picks it up, seeing that it's Terushima and she rolls her eyes before hitting the decline button. She sees that he's called you non-stop through the night, and she scoffs again. She's pretty sure she could get away with murder.

When the phone rings for the fourth time, Kiya angrily picks it up. "Via, baby, I am so sorry, please listen to me, it was just a misunderstanding--"

"Olivia can't come to the phone right now," Kiya cuts him off curtly. "She's passed out because a fucking piece of shit decided to walk back in her life and break her heart the same fucking way he did four years ago," she spits, and she hears him sigh heavily before he sniffles.

"Kiya, you gotta let me explain, please let me explain." He sounds completely wrecked, Kiya can barely understand what he's saying.

"I don't think so, Terushima. You barely deserved a second chance, and you definitely don't deserve a third. Goodbye."

"Wait, wait, wait! Please! Please let me explain!" He's practically yelling in her ear, and she knows that if she hangs up on him he'll just keep calling. But she's also never heard him like this before.

"Fine. You have five minutes."

It's been roughly a week since one of the lowest moments of your life, and you're not entirely healed, but you definitely feel better, and you swore off getting that drunk ever again due to the awful headache you had when you woke up the next morning. Right now, you were hanging with Kiya, which she fully insisted for whatever reason, and you assume it's just because she wanted to spend time with you before the new year.

"He proposed?!" you yell as you practically throw yourself off the couch. Kiya laughs as she nods. "What? Show me the ring!" you demand, and she holds her hand out which you quickly take into yours to examine her finger. "Woah, that is expensive," you comment as your eyes go wide.

She pulls her hand back as she agrees before looking at it again, her eyes full of love and happiness. You can't help the ping of jealously that stabs at your heart, but you push it away, replacing it with the happiness for your best friend. "So, I'm obviously going to be the maid of honor," you say matter-of-factly, and she laughs as she rolls her eyes.

"Of course you are. There's no one else I would want it to be." You both talk for a couple more hours, and you look at the clock on your phone.

"I should probably go. I don't want to implode on the newly engaged couple. He's going to be home soon, right?" you ask, standing and stretching.

"Yeah, but it's okay, you can stay. We won't mind." You shake your head as you start to gather your things.

"It's okay. I've got a bunch of takeout and some wine calling my name at home." You slip on your coat and your boots. That's mostly the reason why. The other reason why is that you really don't want to see any happy couples right now. That's just putting salt in a wound that's slowly healing. "Congratulations again, Kiya. I'll text you when I get home." She nods while walking you to the door, and she watches you walk to your car and drive off before closing the door.

You yawn loudly when you get home, kicking your boots off and throwing your jacket onto the couch. You decide that you're going to take a nap first, and then you'll eat, and as you walk to your room, you feel something under your feet. At first, you thought it was something weird on your sock, but when you keep feeling it, you look down to see rose petals?

You turn back to the door. You had locked the door when you left, and you just unlocked the door when you came home, so...

"Hello?" you call out into the quiet apartment, but you receive no response, and you follow the trail of rose petals, assuming that this is possibly the way that you're going to go out. The trail stops at your door, and you slide the door open, gasping when you see what's inside.

The lights are off, the only light being provided is from the vanilla-scented candles all over the room. There are rose petals all over the place, and there are vases of your favorite flowers spread out across the room, and standing in the middle of it is Terushima.

He's facing you, wringing his hands together nervously as he watches you take in the new changes made. "What is all this?" you ask in disbelief, and he steps forward before he speaks.

"An apology. I mean, I don't really think I can make up for the pain that I've caused you, but there's been a huge misunderstanding." You sigh softly as you look away.

"Terushima..." you start, and he startles you when he falls to his knees before grabbing your hands.

"Via, I'm begging you to let me explain. If you let me explain, then I'll be out of your hair. You won't hear from me ever again. And I know I don't deserve this, but please, please, let me explain." You only respond with a nod, mostly because of how he's acting right now. "For starters, I am so sorry for how I've made you feel. This year and four years ago. It was never my intention to make you cry or to break your heart, and I did both of those things, and so much more."

He takes a deep breath before speaking again. "Second, that girl in my apartment is not what you think," he tells you firmly making you roll your eyes, and he quickly starts speaking again. "I know, I know, but let me explain." He quickly pulls his phone out of his pocket like he's afraid that you're going to leave.

You watch as he brings up a conversation with a number before scrolling up to a certain part of the conversation, and he turns the phone to you. You hesitantly grab the phone, looking at him before bringing your eyes to look at the phone. You scroll through the messages, the messages themselves not outright telling you that he was seeing another girl.

One of them says 'it'll be ready in a couple of days,' another one says that 'you can meet me at my place.' That one's from Terushima. You hand him back the phone, not convinced at all. "You told her she could meet you at your place."

"And I should've realized how that would've looked. I was stupid, I wasn't thinking, and I'm sorry." You gesture to the phone.

"What was supposed to be ready?" you ask, your voice full of disinterest, and he quickly pockets the phone before reaching into his front pocket. Your eyes widen when he pulls out a box small enough for a ring, and he grabs your hand before you have the chance to move.

He opens it to reveal a small, simple ring with your birthstone in it. "Terushima..." you trail off, and he shakes his head.

"It's not what it looks like. It's a promise ring." A soft, surprised expression comes over your face. "It's a promise to you that I'm going to be better. Everyone knows that I don't deserve you, but this is a promise to you that I'm going to become the man that you deserve." Now you feel the tears coming, and he keeps going.

"It's a promise that I'm never going to hurt you again." He stands up quickly, your head now lifting upward to look him in the eyes. "Olivia, you mean the world to me. There's no else but you, there hasn't been, and there never will be." He takes the ring out of the box, setting the box on your dresser.

"I love you so much that it hurts. You're all I ever think about as soon as I wake up to the moment I go to sleep. Please, give me another chance. I promise I won't make you regret it." The tears are falling more frequently, and you wipe them away.

"How do I know you're not lying?" you ask quietly, trying to keep your weak resolve up. He steps closer to you.

"You know that I'm not lying," he tells you confidently, his gaze never wavering from yours, and you sigh knowing that he's right. He's one of the worst liars you've ever met, having tells for days. And none of them are showing. You're still fighting it in your head, looking down away from him, and he tilts it back up by your chin.

"Please. I will never make you feel that way ever again. I promise." He tells you firmly, his voice solid. Terushima feels like his heart explodes when you nod your head. He slides the ring onto your finger before wiping the tears from your eyes. He's so happy he could cry. He plants his lips on yours quickly, wrapping his arms around you, pulling him into him.

"Please, let me show you," he pleads after he pulls away, holding your face in his hands.

"Okay." That's all he needs before he's picking you up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he carries you to the bed, and he never breaks the kiss as you land on your back. He moves you further up on the bed before moving his lips to your neck, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses on your skin.

Your hands move to his hair as you feel him biting marks into your skin, and you know that you're going to look like a freaking leopard tomorrow. He pulls your shirt off, throwing it somewhere off to the side, your bra soon following, and he doesn't waste any time attacking your breasts, one hand stimulating one while his mouth is on the other.

He pulls your hardened nipples between his teeth and his fingers at the same time, making your back arch off the bed at the different feelings. After marking up one breast, he moves to the other, doing the same thing before he starts to kiss down your abdomen.

He looks up at you when he reaches the waistband of your sweatpants, and you nod quickly as he groans seeing how your pupils are blown with lust. He quickly gets rid of your sweats, groaning again when he sees the growing wet spot across your crotch.

He licks a broad stripe up your covered cunt, both of you moaning simultaneously as you squeeze his head with your thighs. He makes quick work of your panties, almost ripping them with how eager he is to taste you. He digs his fingers into your thighs, almost entranced by your naked sex, and he teases you a bit more by marking up your thighs, whining when he pulls the skin between his teeth.

"Yuuji, stop teasing," you whine, and he smiles wickedly before he spreads your legs.

"I gotcha, pretty girl," he coos before licking another stripe through your folds, the action so sudden that it makes you jump slightly. His hands press your legs into the mattress as he eats you out like you're his last meal. "You taste so fucking good," he moans, the vibrations only elevating the feeling, and the taste of you on his tongue and the sounds you're making are like heaven, and he's close to blowing his load that he has to force himself to hold back.

He moves up to your clit, running circles over it with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth, making the grip on his hair tightening just shy of painful. He prods a finger at your hole before slowly inching his way in, and he ruts against the bed to find some release. You already feel so good on his finger, so he can only imagine what you'll feel like when you take his dick.

He slides another finger in while continuing to use his mouth on your clit, stretching you out before sliding in a third. He curls his fingers, hitting that spot inside of you with ease, making you release a loud moan. "Teru," you gasp, and he smirks against you.

"You close, baby?" he prods, already knowing the answer. He keeps curling his fingers, the squelching sounds almost overpowering your moans, and he feels you pulling at his hair, this time painful, but he can't bring himself to care as he licks up your clit making sure his piercing strikes it.

You cum with a scream, and he moans when you clench on his fingers, but he keeps going, his fingers seeming to go deeper inside of you, and a weird feeling sits in your core, and you try to push him away, but he keeps going until you feel another release.

"Fuck. Holy shit, babe." You come down from your high, gasping for air as you watch him come up with your juices all over his face while he sucks his fingers clean. "You just squirted." You move to cover your face with your hands but he stops you. "Don't be ashamed. That was really hot," he admits, licking around his mouth to get some more.

He kisses you hungrily, and you moan as you taste yourself on his tongue and when his piercing knocks against your teeth. He hisses and breaks the kiss when you palm his straining erection through his jeans. "Do you want me to return the favor?" you ask, still breathless from your previous orgasm, and he lightly brushes your hand away as he shakes his head.

"Later, right now is all about you," he tells you, and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close to you.

"Then I want you to fuck me," you whisper against his lips, and he groans before making quick work of his shirt and his jeans. You can see a huge wet spot in the front of his briefs, and he gets rid of them quickly, his dick smacking his abdomen once it's free.

He stands at the edge of the bed, lazily stroking himself, and you feel your mouth go dry at how beautiful he is, so you tell him, and he responds with a soft chuckle, but you can see his face deepen with a blush at the compliment. "Nah, that's all you, baby girl." He smirks when he sees your eyes widening once they land on the pair of metal balls at the head of his length. "You like it?" he quips, and you just gulp, your eyes having a hard time looking away from the angry red tip dripping with pre.

His eyes drag down your figure, making you hot all over and he moves onto the bed, hovering himself over you. "You're so gorgeous. The prettiest woman I've ever met." You don't have time to feel flustered by his words because he leans down to kiss you, this one different from the previous ones.

This one is softer and filled with love, but still has the same amount of passion and hunger. "I have a condom," he tells you when he pulls away, and you shake your head.

"I wanna feel you," you tell him, lust dripping in your words, and he bites back a moan as he gives you one last kiss before guiding his dick towards your leaking hole. He pumps himself a few more times before sliding in, and you can't help the whine that falls from your lips.

It's been so long since you've felt him inside of you. And it's an addicting feeling you didn't even know you were missing until now. "Fuck, you are so tight. Shit." He bottoms out, stretching you in the best possible way, and he rests his head against yours.

"Move, Yuuji," you urge, and he nods while he pants.

"I know, baby, I know, give me a second. Fuck." He takes a few more deep breaths, and when he's sure that he's not going to bust just from how warm you feel, he backs up until only the tip is inside and he rams back into you, making the bed knock against the wall.

You cry out, your arms wrapping around his neck again as he repeatedly slams back into you, the feeling of the piercing rubbing against your walls foreign, but it feels so good. He keeps shifting his hips until he finds that spongy spot inside of you, and he grips the headboard, using it as leverage to piston that spot, and you feel like you're going to explode with pleasure.

You rake your nails down his back, and he feels it hit every nerve ending all over his body, and his hips falter just a tad when you clench around him. "Fuck, baby, touch yourself for me, please touch yourself," he spills out, knowing he's not going to last much longer.

You bring your hand down to roll hard circles on your bud, clenching at the sudden stimulation, and Terushima shudders. "Feels so good, Yuuji," you moan out, and he can't help but reciprocate it as his face scrunches up in pleasure.

"You feel too good, baby, oh my God." You can sense that he's close, so you clench around him again, and that's what send him over the edge, letting out a shout of your name as his hot seed shoots into you.

He doesn't stop moving though. He brings one hand down to your shoulder and fucks into you harder than he had before. He whines at the overstimulation, but he's determined to get you there. "Cum for me, baby, cum for me."

With one last hard thrust, you cum hard, back arching off the bed as you scream his name while Terushima moans at you coming undone under him. Your back meets the bed again, and Terushima rests his head on your forehead as you both catch your breath.

He pulls out of you slowly, wincing at the overwhelming feeling of pleasure mixing with pain before he gets up and makes his way to the bathroom the best he can on shaky legs. You feel yourself starting to drift off, and you jump when you feel something warm at your core.

"Sorry, I gotta clean you up," he tells you softly, wiping the mix of your juices away before putting the rag in the sink in the bathroom. He comes back, pulling the blankets down and getting in before pulling you into his chest. "I love you so much, Olivia. And I am so sorry. I won't make you regret giving me another chance."

You look up at him with a sleepy smile and sleepy eyes before sitting up to kiss him. "I love you too, and I forgive you, maybe," you joke, and you giggle when he pinches your side.

The rhythm of his heartbeat and the finger dragging up and down your arm lulls you to sleep fast, and the last thing you remember is hearing "goodnight."

~

Terushima wakes up before you, the sunlight bleeding in through the blinds and into his eyes. He takes a deep breath in and looks around, thankful that he remembered to blow out the candles before he went to sleep. He looks down to see you still sleeping peacefully, and he feels his heart do a somersault. He finally has you and he going to make sure that you don't leave. Not again.

He never realized what he was taking for granted until you broke up. He had slept with a few other girls, but they weren't you. All he could think about was you. He even got kicked out of a girl's place naked because he accidentally called her by your name. He pulls you closer to him, and you stir slightly, moving your head so that it's angled more towards his.

He thinks you look ethereal. The way the sunlight makes your brown skin glow almost makes him melt. He runs a finger down your sleeping face lightly before brushing the hair out of your face. "I'm sorry for being so stupid," he starts even know he knows you can't hear him. "I didn't realize what I had lost until it was too late. I wish I could go back in time so I could fix it or beat myself up, one or the other," he jokes laughing softly. "Probably both."

He rubs your back softly. "I don't even know if I have enough words to describe how much you mean to me. I should've never entertained those girls, like I said I was an absolute idiot, and to be honest, I didn't think you would've given me a second chance. I would've understood if you didn't." He holds you a little tighter. "But I'm glad that you did. I love you, and I'm going to keep saying it until you get tired of it, but I want you to know that. I want you to know that it's true and that I seriously mean it."

He takes a deep breath. "After the Christmas party, I cried so hard I almost threw up." He laughs bitterly, he doesn't really know why he's saying this, but he feels like he should get it off his chest. "That night it felt like my heart had been ripped out and stomped on multiple times. I only have myself to blame though. And I figured that must've been what you felt like because of me, and that happened to you twice.

"I was almost in hysterics. I kept calling your phone, but you never answered, and when I was about to give up, Kiya picked up the phone." He laughs again." And she almost hung up on me until I explained to her everything that happened and the huge misunderstanding that caused all of this. She held me put this whole plan together actually. She got you out of your apartment so I could do all of this."

He looks down at you again, giving you a kiss on your forehead. "I hope you stay with me forever. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You really are sappy in the morning." Your groggy voice makes him jump, and you smile as you struggle to hold back your laugh, peeling your eyes open to reveal a very red Terushima.

"You were awake?!" he asks, and you laugh fully as you nod. "You heard everything?!"

You nod again. "I did, I'm sorry. I thought you were talking in your sleep, but I realized it was too coherent for it to be sleep talk." You sit up, resting your hand on his chest and putting your chin on top. "Did you mean everything you said?"

He responds quickly. "Every word." You fight back tears as he pulls you in for another kiss, his hand resting on the back of your head softly. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Yuuji Terushima."

EPILOGUE:

"Teru, you're not taking me to the woods to kill me, are you?" you ask, looking around blindly due to the blindfold wrapped around your eyes. You hear him laugh as you feel him take another turn.

"No, I'll do that for our next anniversary." You laugh as you try to figure out where you are. Terushima had woken you up saying that he was going to show you your anniversary present, but then he blindfolded you and led you to the car. "Stop trying to figure out where we are with your weird powers!" he yells at you, and you nudge at him while playing with your necklace that he got for you after you both made up. It has his name on it, and he bought a matching chain with your name on it.

"It's not my fault I know this city like the back of my hand." You feel him take another turn, and you close your eyes as you try to narrow it down. "Are we in a subdivision?" You smirk when you hear him groan, knowing you guessed right.

"Can you please stop? You'll ruin the surprise."

"It's hard to focus on anything else," you admit, and you quickly go quiet when you feel his hand rubbing up and down your thigh.

"It is hard now?" he asks you, lowly, and you feel your core clench at his words and his actions. Now you can't focus on anything but his hand, but you're abruptly pulled from his actions when you feel the car stop. You hear him turn the car off and you hear his door open and close while you take your seatbelt off.

Your door opens, and he's guiding you out of the car. "You ready?"

You jump excitedly in impatience. "Yes, yes, hurry up!" He peels off the blindfold, and you blink a few times, letting your eyes adjust to the light before they focus on a two-story house. "A house?" You feel something cold touch your hand, and you look down to see a pair of keys in your hand.

"Our house." Your eyes go wide as you snap your head up to look at Terushima before looking back at the house. "Happy anniversary, baby."

"Are you fucking serious?!" you say, jumping into his arms, almost taking him out before you run towards the door, unlocking it as fast you can. Terushima smiles at you fondly as he follows you around the house as you tour it.

"This bedroom's kinda small though," he comments, looking around, and you step in the room, spinning around as you look at the room before stopping to face Terushima.

"I don't know. I think it's the perfect room for a nursery," you admit, and you see him shrug as he looks around again before the words dawn on him. He almost breaks his neck to look at you, and you smile widely as you nod.

"You're fucking serious?! I'm gonna be a dad?!" He runs to you, picking you and spinning you around. You both laugh loudly before he sets you down, pulling you into a loving kiss that leaves you breathless.

"Happy anniversary, Yuuji."

A/N: If you stayed this long thank you for reading, but if you didn’t, I don’t blame you LMAO

[stevesharrlngtons]

picking out the stitches.

roman godfrey x reader 

summary: after letha’s death; peter’s departure; shelley’s disappearance; and a brutal fight with subsequent break up with roman; you escape to the empire state for college and a fresh start. though, after thinking you have been given the space to move on with your life, your father’s unexpected death sends you back to hemlock grove. there, you are forced to confront the reason for your pained departure.

word count: 14.1k (oopies)

warning: mentions of an abusive father

a/n: this is a long bitch, with a possible part two (?) if this is enjoyed by you all! (: i hope the length of this makes up for it taking so long lol. also prob ooc roman bc i love him just being soft 

please if you read this and like it, know that feedback is greatly appreciated and i’d love to hear any thoughts you have!! also im bad at editing 

Tuna, turkey and swiss, BLT. 

No option offered sounded particularly tasty. You had come in search of egg salad sandwich, a surprising delicacy from the Hemlock Grove Grocery Deli that you had been craving since your departure months ago. It felt like comfort food, a way to make being back in town bearable. 

But the stockboys seemed to be sending you a message: there was no good reason to be back in town, and no sandwich was going to remedy your pain. 

“(Y/N)?” 

You flinched at the sound of your name as sweat prickled the back of your neck. The last fucking thing you wanted was to be recognized the second you got back into town. Being forced to interact with any of the waspy bitches or rednecks that attended your high school, especially now, seemed like a personal affront punishable with only your meanest of glares and most backhanded of compliments. 

But, who you found had called your name was not only a surprise, but a pleasant one. Not a bitch or mouth breather in sight. 

“Peter?” Your eyebrows perked up as you said his name, no doubt unable to hide your complete shock at his sudden appearance. 

“In the flesh.” He smiled. That same boyish smile that he always gave especially when you needed to see it. 

Your body worked on it’s own violation as you shot yourself at him, wrapping him in a tight hug. He thankfully returned the gesture, gripping the fabric of your dress in his fingers to keep you close. Peter pressed his nose to your temple and you buried yourself deep into the crook of his neck. It wasn’t until a voice cleared behind you that the two of you pulled apart. 

“Excuse me,” A man holding a wire basket interpreted, seeming less than pleased to have been forced to witness your reunion. 

“Sure, after you, sir.” Peter said, theatrically waving the man past. 

“Stupid fucker, couldn’t even go through another aisle.” He watched the man leave with a scowl.

“Shut up about inconiquestional people and tell me what the hell you’re doing back in town!” You said with a wide smile while slapping his chest playfully. 

“I think that’s a better question suited for me to you, don’t you think? Last I heard you fucked off to N-Y-C.” Peter said, leaning against the display of sandwiches. 

“Yeah? And who told you that?” 

“Destiny.” 

You smirked and rested your shoulder against the display, “She’s got a big mouth.” 

“Big mouth? Who cares if she does! New York is a big deal. NYU, even bigger.” 

You roll your eyes at the compliment. 

“Hey, no, I’m serious! You always were the scholar out of us. Fucking valedictorian while Roman and I barely managed C’s.” He continued. 

At the mention of Roman, you sucked in a sharp breath through your nose, eyes breaking from Peter’s only long enough for him to see your pain at his name. 

“You still haven't answered my question, you know?” You said, trying to seamlessly change the subject, fiddling with the ends of your hair to keep your hands busy. 

“Yeah, well, it isn’t a happy answer.” 

“Enlighten me anyway.” 

Peter gives a heaving sigh, a signature of his, “Lynda got pinched for some shit and was transferred out here... I followed.” 

Your heart sank. Lynda had always been exponentially kind and understanding. To you, Shelley and even Roman. 

“Shit, Peter. I’m so sorry. How’re you holding up?” You placed a comforting hand on his forearm. 

“As well as I can given the circumstances. I’m staying with D, so at least that’s good.” He gives a forced smile. 

“I’m glad you’re with family at a time like this.” You drop your hand and slouch against the display, matching his relaxed posture. 

There was a brief pause between the two of you, before Peter spoke again. 

“Usually, when one party enlightens the other, they are obligated to do the same.” He leans in ever so slightly to emphasize his point. 

“That is usually the deal, yes.” 

“So?”

“My dad croaked a few days ago. Heart attack.” 

“Holy shit, (Y/N/N),” Peter interrupted, face falling into a concerned frown. 

“No, no. It’s fine. He was a piece of shit,” You shrug. 

“Still, he was your dad.” 

“Yeah, he was my dad who hit me and my mom and loved booze more than either of us.” 

“He still was your dad, (Y/N).” He reiterated. 

You purse your lips and sigh.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I have to be all fucking weepy about the whole thing.” You say, grabbing a turkey and swiss from the display and pushing off to walk toward the register. 

“No one said you had to be,” Peter appealed as he followed behind you, “But don’t let everything get all clogged up in there.” 

He motioned to his chest and you roll your eyes, setting your sandwich on the conveyor belt for the cashier. 

“I promise you, the moment he is six feet under I will let all my emotions out. Mainly rejoice and relief.” You sent Peter a smile as your sandwich rang up. 

“Four forty, even.”

You reach into your purse, but Peter beats you to it. He hands the cashier a crumpled up five dollar bill. 

You give him a glare, “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“Of course I did. It’s gonna be my lunch too.” He snatched the sandwich from the bagging area and saunters to the exit, leaving you to gather the nickels and dimes. 

Parked in a gravel parking lot looking over the lake, you and Peter sat in the cab of his tow truck. Both eating a half of the mediocre turkey and swiss while sharing a warm cherry Coke from the center console in silence. After a brief session of catch up on your lives over the past few months, you were both happy enough to just sit quietly in each other's company. Simply enjoying the comfort of being in the presence of someone you love. 

“You ever hear from him?” Peter spoke up, mouth full of bread and slimy meat. 

“Who?” You at least have the decency to cover your mouth as you spoke. 

“You know who. Don’t make me say his name, you got all squirly last time.” 

You sighed as you finish chewing the food in your mouth, savoring what you could of the cheap flavors as you avoided Peter’s gaze. Once you swallowed, you took a long gulp from the Coke can before answering. 

“No. He’s been out of my life since that night. Really prefer to keep it that way, too.” You replied clippedly, not wanting to talk about him any more than necessary. 

Peter belows a raspberry in response. 

You looked over to glare at him, “What?” 

“I just find that hard to believe.”

“That I don’t want to see the man who broke my heart?” You snap. 

“No, that Roman has been able to keep his distance from you.” 

“I thought we weren’t saying his name.” You abruptly look away and out the windshield once more. 

“Apologies.”

“You don’t have to sound so sincere about it.” You scoff. 

“What happened between you two, anyway? Before I left I could practically hear wedding bells.” 

“Destiny didn’t tell you?” You press your lips together firmly, hoping Destiny had just made up a lie on your behalf to tell her cousin. 

“All she said was that you and Roman supposedly got into this huge fight and you left a few days after. Nothing more, nothing less.” He explained. 

“Yeah, well huge fight is an understatement.” 

“Then what happened?” 

You sigh deeply, reclining against the headrest and wrapping your arms around your middle for some misplaced search for security. 

“It happened a few days after you skipped town. It was his birthday…” 

Music echoed around you as you placed gentle kisses along the expanse of Roman’s neck. You ran your fingers through his hair gently, collecting grease and pomade on your fingertips and under your nails as you did. He had an arm securing you tightly to his side, the other had been holding you too, but he had retrieved it to light a cigarette. 

After the traumatic week you two had undergone, you didn’t fight Roman much when he insisted all he wanted to do for his eighteenth birthday was drink, watch a movie and have you sleep over. You were happy he at least let you buy him a cupcake to commemorate the day, but wouldn’t see to any more festivities. He told you that now more than ever wasn’t a time to be merry. You didn’t blame him, no matter how much you wanted to celebrate him today. 

So, you let him share his birthday cupcake with you in the bottom of an empty swimming pool and hold you in an uncomfortable lounge chair for as long as he wanted. Fortunately, this was as calm as you’d seen him in days and you hoped that continued; at least until midnight. 

Roman lulled his head on top of yours and placed his hand on your hip, making sure every part of you that could be touching was. 

The sound of a door opening resounded in the distance and the distinct tap of heels on tile followed. You felt Roman deflate next to you as you both recognized who the sound belonged to. 

In sauntered Olivia, in a beautiful floor length gown with a sparkler in hand, painting patterns in the dark with the fire illuminating her wicked smile. 

“Happy Birthday, my darling.” She chimed, looking down at the both of you. 

You and Roman both shifted under her unwelcome gaze, neither responding. You turned further into Roman’s neck and you felt his fingers press harder into the flesh of your hip. 

“It can’t be a party with just the two of you, can it?” Olivia said, dropping the sparkler to lay by her side. 

“Well, three’s a crowd. So if you’ll excuse us.” Roman waved his hand that held his cigarette dismissively.

“One is the loneliest number, but two can be just as bad.” Olivia replied in a musical lit. 

Again, neither of you respond. You busy yourself fiddling with the collar of Roman’s tank top.

“(Y/N), darling, you do look beautiful tonight.” She turns her attention to you after the silence she received. Something Olivia knew Roman disapproved of her doing. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Godfrey.” You reply politely, glancing at her briefly before going back to Roman’s shirt. 

“Is that the dress Roman bought you some time back? I remember hearing you tell Shelley about it over dinner.” Olivia continued. 

“What is it that you want, again?” Roman snapped, making you flinch at his volume increase. 

“I have a surprise for you. In the attic.” She gestured using what’s left of the dying sparkler at the ceiling. 

“Can’t it wait?” Roman said, wholly disinterested. 

“No, it cannot, Roman. It is your birthday surprise and I would like to give it to you now.” Her voice became more stern by the word. 

Roman moves to look at you and you do the same. His eyes are inviting you to a conversation Olivia isn’t privy too. An almost psychic communication you’ve had together since the day you first met. 

Do we go with her? Or wait her out until she leaves? 

Just see what she wants. Once she’s shown you we can get back to doing whatever you want. 

Roman pursed his lips before letting out a dramatic sigh, “Fine.” 

He got up from the chair before offering you his hand to help you up. 

Olivia watched as you both climb the ladder out of the empty pool and onto the landing. 

“Let’s get this over with.” Roman gave his mother a firm glare. 

He placed a hand on the small of your back and started for the door when Olivia stopped him. 

“I’m afraid, this gift is for Godfrey eyes only.” She looked at you with weakly masked distaste. 

You felt Roman’s fingers once again probe into your skin, “She is a Godfrey.” 

“Not in name or blood.”

“But she will be so it doesn’t matter.” Roman retorted, harshly. 

This wasn’t the first time he had alluded to your future together, and at the time, you didn’t think it would be the last. 

“Well, she isn’t yet, is she? When she is, then she will be welcome to engage in all Godfrey birthday present exchanges.” Olivia sneered.

“There is nothing you could show me that she can’t-” You placed a gentle hand on Roman’s chest before he could continue. 

This fight certainly wasn’t worth it. Especially not over a fucking birthday present. 

“It’s fine. I’ll wait in your room.” You offered. 

“Off the premise.” Olivia chimed in curtly. 

“Excuse me?” Roman spat. 

“(Y/N) can go home and see you tomorrow. This gift needs much explanation and discussion.” 

“This is beyond fucking ridiculous!” 

“Ro, it’s OK. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smile up at him. 

You didn’t want to leave him. Not now, not ever, but never with Olivia. 

“I’ll see you later tonight.” Roman stressed.

“Tomorrow would be-” 

“Let’s just call it a see-you-soon, then?” You cut off Olivia, never taking your eyes off Roman. 

He just tightens his jaw, so tight you’re afraid he might crack a filling. But he nods. 

“Fine. I’ll call you.” He says. And he says it with such sincerity that you know without a doubt he will, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He kisses your forehead and you kiss his cheek, not overly keen on giving him the proper goodbye kiss you wanted to infront of Olivia. As you walk away, you spare Olivia a last glance and the look on her smug face is one so self satisfied it made your stomach churn. 

Roman never called you that night, or even the next morning. The calls you gave him were left unanswered; texts and voicemails the same. 

You would have called Peter, Shelley or Letha to see if they’d heard from Roman at a time like this, but all were depressingly dead ends. 

Under the circumstances that you left under the night before, you took it upon yourself to drive to the Godfrey residence and find out what the hell was going on yourself. You didn’t trust Olivia as far as you could throw her, and you didn’t put any heinous act past her. 

Your worry beat out any common sense you had to stay away and wait for Roman to come to you. 

When you arrived and knocked on the door, several times to be exact, it seemed no one was home. Though, both cars were in the driveway and you knew neither Roman or Olivia would take a cab anywhere. With balled fists you slammed against the wood of the door, kicking your foot against it as well for good measure. You had been in your knocking rhythm so long, when the door finally opened you stumbled forward. 

You caught yourself on the knob and looked up to see who answered. 

Roman stood above you with expressionless features and down turned lips. 

“What?” He asked. 

“Don’t ‘what’ me! ‘What’ you! You never called and you haven’t been answering.” You said, straightening yourself out. 

“You’re not my fucking keeper,” Roman scoffed and turned his back to walk down the hallway. 

Your face screwed up in confusion as you stepped over the threshold into the mansion and slammed the door, then followed him through the house. 

“Excuse me? What is up with you?” You exclaimed. 

Roman had stopped in the kitchen, rummaging through the refrigerator while trying his best to seem unbothered with tense shoulders. 

“Nothing is up. I just didn’t want to call you.” He spoke into the crisper drawer. 

“Since when?” 

“Since now.” 

“What the fuck did Olivia show you? Must have been really messed up for you to be acting like this.” You let a humorless laugh through your nose. 

“Or maybe I was just happy to be rid of you and now that you’re back, I am pissed.” He slammed the door to the fridge, its contents rattling inside. 

Your surprised expression hadn’t wavered as Roman glared at you, his eyes dull and unfamiliar. 

“Ok, so, yesterday you’re talking about marrying me, and today I am some parasite you’re happy to be rid of? Is that right?” You took a step toward him. 

“I was never going to marry you, you delusional whore.” His first real hit, chipping away at your weak armour. The armour he had weakened himself with his love and care for years. 

“If I’m whore, I’d hate to know what that makes you.” You spat. 

“It makes me the fucking billionaire who mistakenly kept around some boring girl with a mediocre cunt.” His second hit. 

“Wow. You’re right, Roman. I am a whore, but I must be an idiot too! To stay with such a man who calls my pussy mediocre when he can’t even fuck me right.” You provoked. 

“Fuck you.” 

“Yeah? Why don’t you? Because for as long as I can remember I’ve been faking my orgasms just to get your pathetic little prick out of me. Is that why you cry after Roman? Because you know about that weak excuse of a dick between your legs?” 

You were being cruel and frankly, spinning lies. But he was hurting you and you wanted to hurt him back. 

“No, I cry thinking about all the other guys you let between your legs. Maybe that’s why daddy hits you, huh? Hoping that one day he hits you hard enough to rattle that whore brain so hard it kills you? So he won’t have to live with the shame? Or maybe he hopes if he hits you enough you’ll finally drop to your knees and show him that head everyone in town talks about.” The last hit, and the one that broke you. 

You close the last few steps between you and strike him as hard as you can muster across the face, cranking Roman’s head to the side with the impact. The slap rings loudly through the room, so do your sniffles. 

“How can you be so cruel? How could you ever say that to me?” You scream through tears. 

“Just speaking the truth.” Roman said smoothly, his head still rotated. 

“What is going on with you? What happened last night?” 

“I came to my senses, that’s what happened. I realized that I was sick of wasting all my time on a miserable little bitch when I could be out fucking real women.” He says through gritted teeth, “Real women who don’t need so much tedious validation from me.” 

“Are you done?” You snapped, your throat thick with tears. 

“With you. Yes.” 

You couldn’t think of anything else to say. Malicious words spun in your head, ready to fire off your tongue and tear him apart, but you knew you would never be able to get them out in one piece. You would stutter and sob and shake and it would give Roman even more satisfaction at seeing you crumble. So, you turned on your heel as fast as you could, holding your hand over your mouth to silence your cries and fled the Godfrey home. 

“Shee-it.” Peter said, looking sick. 

“Shee-it, indeed.” You nod. 

“So, that was it?” 

“That was it. I was there barely five minutes when it was all said and done… then I went home, cried my stupid eyes out and packed my shit. It was always the plan for me to do online courses and stay here with him, but, y’know, things changed... So, I left.” 

“I know that feeling.” Peter says, giving the river a thousand mile stare. 

“I know you do. Let’s not forget you abandoned me, too.” You said, far more harshly than intended. The topic of the break up having brought old wounds to the surface. 

A pained expression crossed his face, “(Y/N)... Fuck, I’m sorry. I am. I just… after Letha,” 

“You don’t have to explain. I’m sorry I snapped. I forgave you the minute you left, for the most part, anyway.” You shrugged. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” You sigh and look over at him, “If I had been in your shoes I would have hightailed it the second I could have.” 

He offers you a sad smile, “But you needed me, and I left.” 

“It’s really OK. Because you’re here now. And it all worked out.” 

“New York that good, then?” 

“Better than good. I’m alone and broke-.” 

“And that’s better than good?” He chuckles.

“Surprisingly, yeah. I’m learning and figuring things out on my own. I’m finding things that make me happy without having to worry about anything else. It’s just nice.” You smile as you speak. 

“That makes me happy. Man, it really does. All I ever wanted for you was happiness. I thought I had left you with the silver you had left of it.” Peter says, resting his temple to the head rest. 

“You did what you had too and so did I. I’m sure Roman did too, in his own twisted way,” You reply, “I don’t want to focus on the past anymore. I am purley looking forward to the future from now on.” 

Peter dropped you off at home after hours of milling around the streets of Hemlock Grove in his truck. You kept asking if he had to go back to work, but he would dismiss your concern each time. Telling you that he was spending time with you and he’d worry about towing later. As much as you knew you should pressure him to take you home, you were happy for the company, especially when that company was Peter. 

His reappearance in your life was unexpected, but wholly accepted and appreciated. You didn’t know the next time you’d be able to see him again, so you were going to enjoy his companionship while you had it. 

Hopping out of the truck and brushing residual crumbs from the turkey sandwich from your dress, you shut the door. The window rolled down and Peter leaned over the console to look at you.   

“Don’t be a stranger.” He smiles at you and you can’t help but return it. 

“Never again.” 

“If you have time, come by Destiny’s before you head back up north. I know she’d love to have dinner.” He proposes and your smile widens. 

“I’d love that, I’ll keep you posted.” You start to back up toward your front door. 

“And let me know if you need anything, anything at all. I know losing someone is tough.” His smile falls slightly as the funeral is mentioned again. 

You knew Peter was worried about you and he had good intentions, but he didn’t know your father like you did. You were going to this thing for appearances and to make your grandmother happy, if you had had a choice you would have rather stayed at school. 

“Got it. Thank you, Peter.” 

You wave him off and you watch as he double takes to look at you until he is out of sight, only then did you enter your house. 

The house isn’t much and it wasn’t the home you grew up in. When your mother finally left your father, she promptly moved you both into a smaller place on the west side of Hemlock Grove that was better suited for your new family dynamic. 

It was a dated burgundy one story, with bland beige carpets and no overhead lighting in the bedrooms, but with two bathrooms. That was helpful down the line when your mother began dating again and her multiple suitors would stay for weeks at a time. You never wanted to be alone with any of them, so that meant crossing the boundary into her room to use the en suite was always out of the question. 

Your bedroom was somewhere you always found solace and comfort, even now it felt more like home than anywhere in the world. It had a small excuse of a bay window that looked out over a small and shallow creek. One of your mother’s more involved boyfriends had built you a window bench years before underneath it, upholstered in red velvet. You had run your fingers over the soft fabric so many times, certain places were now rubbed raw and threadbear. 

Roman used to sit on your bed while you sat on the bench, reading to him from a litany of novels, some for pleasure and some for assignments. He’d look at you and tell you the light from the window haloed you like an angel. You’d tell him he was just talking out of his ass to get you to stop reading and fool around. Then Roman would smirk and shrug, like he wasn’t sure who was more right. His memory seemed to be etched into every detail of your bedroom, unfortunately. 

There was the small heart he had carved into your headboard with an unclicked pen, your initials carved around it. There was your small Ikea vanity, that was stained with nail polish from the time Roman insisted he could do your nails better than you could. There was your closet, just big enough to hold you both inside; where you would steal kisses when you first started to sneak him into your room at night. There was the faded paint on the wall in the shape of a rectangle, where a picture frame of you and Roman at your first homecoming together had once been. There was your fucking duvet cover, that you and Roman would hide underneath on bright mornings. Where he’d hold you and kiss you softly, whispering sweet affections until the muggy air between you became thick and he’d push your noses up over the edge of the blanket to take in giggling gulps of breath. 

Roman Godfrey had left painful reminders of himself everywhere. There were too many for you to erase fully. His memory was like a Hydra, repress a recollection of his and two more would pop into your mind in its place.

Now, all the bench held your small suitcase that you had packed early this morning for your short trip down to Pennsylvania. Just some toiletries, a few changes of clothes, a black cocktail dress and a few textbooks. Just because your father died didn’t mean your school work would lighten because of it. 

While it wasn’t very late, you had been up early to catch your train and hadn’t expected to be out all day with Peter. You excused your premature exhaustion and decided it was best to take a shower, have a snack and then go to bed. Tomorrow was to no doubt try your nerves, so a full night's rest was likely your best option. 

After your shower, you slipped into a pair of pajamas and went down the hall to see if your mother had left you any suitable food. She was still on vacation with her current boyfriend and wouldn’t be able to make it back until Monday, a full day after you were set to leave. So, all you could hope was that there was something edible left in the pantry. 

Tussling your damp hair in your hands, you padded through the kitchen to try and make something with the odds and ends your mother had in stock. 

As you settled on a half eaten bag of tortilla chips and a jar of salsa, there was a knock at the door. Your mother’s car was missing from the driveway and anyone who would drop by unannounced knew she was out of town. Assuming it was a solicitor or a package delivery, you ignored it and continued on with your pre-bed snack. But the knocking didn’t let up. 

Begrudgingly, you made your way to the door in the hopes of shooing off whoever was bothering you. Though, when you opened it, you debated simply closing the door like it nothing had happened. To just shut the door tight and pretend that you hadn’t seen who was standing on your doorstep. All six feet four inches of him. 

With his back to you and a large bouquet of roses in hand, Roman glanced over his shoulder when he heard the door open. He looked about as startled as you felt when he laid eyes on you. 

“(Y/N).” He blurted out, his body swiveling like an owl to face the same direction as his head. 

“Roman.” You gave him a forced smile, cursing that you had lost your opportunity to run and hide.

“I, uh, well, wow. I, these are for your mother,” Roman whipped out the bouquet from behind him, “I heard about your dad. I just wanted to see how she was holding up. I know they aren’t close or anything, but y’know, it’s still the father of her child.” 

You took the flowers from him carefully, making sure to avoid where his fingers lay on the stems. 

“She’s not here, but thanks. I’ll make sure to let her know you stopped by.” You continued your kind facade before moving to shut the door. 

But Roman was quicker as he placed a large hand on the wood to keep it ajar. 

“I’m sorry for you too, you know? I know how it feels to lose a father. So, I’m sorry.” He said, like he was trying to keep you in his company as long as possible. 

“Wish my dad would have eaten a bullet when I was a kid. You got lucky.” You joke, once more trying to shut the door. 

And Roman continued to keep it open. 

“Well, I know things ended… bad- But! I’m still here if you need me. For anything. Have all the preparations been taken care of?” He asked. 

“Yeah, my grandma and grandpa took care of it. Nothing to worry about. But thanks, Roman.”

Roman’s eyes widened and his mouth puckered, the way he always did when he had a million things to say and no idea how to say them. 

You began to notice his attire as he loomed over you, with no seeming intention of leaving you or your front stoop alone. 

He wore a thick winter coat over a black three piece suit, tailored to perfection. His hair was parted on the right and smoothed down with gel. It certainly wasn’t your favorite look on him, but your input hardly mattered anymore. He wore Oxford dress shoes that were spotless and without a crease. You realized just then that he must have come right from The White Tower to bring the flowers to your mother, and these were his work clothes. These were the clothes and fifty dollar haircut of a fresh faced CEO.

You had known that he was set to secede the throne of Godfrey Industries once he turned eighteen, but you never gave it much thought after you moved to New York. The Roman who haunted your dreams and took residence in your thoughts was always your Roman. The boy who wanted to smoke and dance and kiss and laugh. Not a business tycoon out for blood. 

“I didn’t know you would be in town. I would have stopped by.” He said, finally finding words to give him a reason to stay. 

“You already have.” 

“I know, but I would have made it more deliberate. More to see you and not to just give my condolences to you mother.” Roman explained, his hand still on the door. 

You snort, “Yeah, well I don’t know why you’re giving her flowers anyway. She doesn’t like you. Not after I told her everything.” 

“Yeah, uh, I didn’t know that.” He laughs uncomfortably, finally taking a step away and relieving your door of his hostage. 

“Well, it was nice of you to come by. I’ll see you around, Roman.” It was clear from your tone that this incommodious conversation was over. 

Though, Roman still was outwardly ignoring your brusque attitude, “Could I come in? I would love to catch up for a moment? For old times sake?” 

“I don’t know if that is such a good idea.” 

“I won’t be long, I promise.” He bargained

You watched him for a long moment, debating on what to do. On one hand, you craved his presence. You craved him after just one sighting and wanted him to come in, to talk, to listen, to heal. Because like you said to Peter in the car earlier, you did believe that Roman had done what he had for a reason, it was just no doubt a fucked up and selfish one. You couldn’t hate him forever, you didn’t want to. It would destroy you before it did any good. 

On the other, all you could do was hear his voice echoing in your mind, explaining his disgust for you. 

But, you wanted to look to the future. You wanted to free yourself of the burden of grudges and hatred. You wanted to forgive Roman, the best you could, and leave him and his faults to fester in the past while you moved on with your life. 

So, you pushed the door open wider with the tips of your fingers and walked back to the kitchen, while Roman eagerly followed. 

“I’ll have to find every vase in the house for these,” You quietly joked.

“I could buy a big vase to hold them tomorrow and send it over if you’d like?” He was following closer than you would have liked as you searched the cabinets for vases and empty jars. 

“No, it’s alright. I think I’ll like how eclectic they’ll look in mismatched glasses.” You said, “And then I could put them all around the house. It’ll be a nice surprise for my mom when she gets home.” 

You undid the thick satin ribbon holding the bouquet together and found a pair of scissors to cut off the ends.

“Want me to fill these with water?” Roman asked, nodding to the empty vases.

“If you don’t mind.” 

Roman nodded, shedding his wool jacket and blazer, depositing it on a chair. Then, rounding the island to stand next to you to begin filling each receptacle from the sink. 

He was closer to you now than he had been in months. You could smell his woody cologne that clung to his skin, mixed with cigarette smoke and the night air. He must have been driving with the top down. You hated that only his scent could send your heart into somersaults and make your hands quiver with need. All you could think about with him in such a proximity was looking up into his green eyes and him looking down into your (Y/E/C) ones. Looking down at you with that stupid fucking smirk. Then with that smirk, Roman would place a hand on your cheek and gently press it to your lips and you would be in heaven. 

Anything Roman did to you was heaven. 

Expect when he was hurting you. Which you had to remind yourself, he very much did. 

“So, where’s your mom?” Roman asked, placing a mason jar next to faux crystal vase.

“In Florida with her new boyfriend.” You commented. 

“Yeah, I heard she was seeing someone.” 

“You know if he’s any good?” 

“Nah, just that she was seeing someone. I keep an ear to the ground to make sure she’s doing alright.” Another glass filled. 

“You don’t have to do that, Roman.” You paused cutting stems for a moment to glance up at him. 

He was already looking at you. 

“I know. I want to. It’s the least I can do.”     

You hold eye contact for a few beats, Roman’s eyes boring into yours in that hyponic way that always left you weak in the knees. 

“Well, thank you. I appreciate it.” And you both went back to your tasks at hand. 

It was obvious that you were more than willing to work in silence, and it was clear that Roman wasn’t. 

“So… how’s NYU?” He prompts. 

“Good. I really like it.” 

“Enjoying your studies?” 

“Very much.” 

“And the city? Is it treating you alright?” 

“Yes, I think after I graduate I’ll stay for a while.” 

Roman only hums in reply. Like that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that you’re doing well.” 

“Thank you.”

The conversation lulls as the sound of water and sheers fill the room. 

Roman is chewing his cheek and bobbing his head, and you know he won’t let up his chatter anytime soon. 

“I’ve been working at The Tower. I took over a few months ago.” He says, eyes darting to you like he was looking for praise. 

“Oh,” You reply like you hadn’t already figured it out, “How’s that going?” 

“Fine. I mean, it’s a lot of work. A lot of stress, but I’m glad I’m doing it.” He sounds unconvincing as he rambles on about Godfrey Industries and Pryce’s lab while you focus on the flowers. 

“Do you ever wonder what you would be doing if you hadn’t been told your entire life that you would take over Godfrey?” You ask, somewhat out of the blue.

Roman stops talking abruptly, his hands pausing under the tap. 

“Not really.” 

“Isn’t there anything else you would have wanted to do? Like in a dream scenario in a perfect world?” You elaborate. 

Roman seems unsettled by your questioning, like these were things no one had ever asked him. Things he had never even asked himself. 

“I think in a dream scenario, I would be rich beyond my wildest dreams. And I already am, so why waste time dreaming?” You can tell he isn’t even satisfied with his answer.

You don’t reply, leaving the subject where it lay in the air to go back to working in silence. 

“So...” Roman begins again, refusing to let the conversation die down.

“You seeing anyone?” Roman tries to sound blase, but you know this question lays heavy on him. 

You barely withhold a scoff as you set your scissors down to look at him once more.

He double takes in your direction, not wanting to look at you for fear of your answer, “What?” 

“I’m just surprised you held off this long without asking the question we both know you wanted to ask the second you saw me.” 

“Not really an answer…” he murmurs. 

“Not really your business.” You counter. 

“So there is someone?” You could hear a twinge of anger in his voice. 

“Not that it is any of your business, because I want to stress that it really isn’t, but no. I am not seeing anyone.” 

“Oh.” Roman’s lip twitches into a smile that he tries to conceal from you. 

“Yeah, oh.” You roll your eyes and finish with your clippings and begin to arrange the rose into glasses. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me?” Roman, with his work now over, turns to look down at you, a smirk on his lips. 

“Ask you what?” 

“If I’m seeing anyone.” 

“I don’t care, Roman.” 

“Really?” He leans closer to you.

“Well, what constitutes seeing someone, to you? A one night stand? A hooker? An actual multiple date relationship? What is your definition?” You jeer. 

“How would you define it?” 

“Different from you.” 

“Oh come on,” He pokes, “Tell me.”

He was becoming far too chummy with you for your taste.

“I guess I would define it as multiple dates.” 

“By that definition, then no. I’m not seeing anyone.” 

“But if I defined it by hookers and one night stands?” You inquired. 

Roman doesn’t answer. 

You can’t help but laugh, “And you said I was a whore.” 

The air between you changes, then. It was calm, if not slightly awkward before then, but now it felt tense and uncomfortable.

“(Y/N), I…” 

“Don’t.” You reply before he can say anything else. 

“But I want to say this, I need to.” Roman persists, reaching out to grab your shoulder. 

You shrug off his advance quickly and take a few steps back from him. Roses and vases completely forgotten. 

“I need to apologize to you.”

“You need to apologize to me for what, Roman?”

“For that night, what I said-!” Roman starts. 

“No. What I mean is, are you apologizing because you’re actually sorry? Because you think that’s what you’re supposed to say to me? Or because you want what you did off your conscious?” You raise a single eyebrow. 

“Are you kidding? I’m saying this because I am fucking sorry! I hate what I said to you, it fucking eats me up!” Roman throws his hand in the air as he yells. 

“So it is option C.” You replied. 

“Jesus fucking- no! It’s not! It’s A! It’s fucking A. You think I wanted to do what I did? Huh? You think I wanted you to leave?” 

“Yes, I did. I do.”

“Then fuck you if you think that. Fuck you if you think that I wanted to say all those things. Maybe you don’t really know me at all.” Roman sneers. 

“I already concluded that.” 

He scoffs.

“Is this why you wanted to come in? Force me into conversation? Ask me if I’m dating anyone, give me a half assed apology and insult me?” You crossed your arms. 

“No! No, that’s not why I asked to come in.” Roman shot back. 

“Then why?” 

“Because I fucking missed you, alright? I fucking missed you and I needed to be near you, even if only for a moment.” 

Roman’s voice echoed in the kitchen, his words hanging in the air and ringing in your ears. You could hear them dance in your mind and slide down your back with a chill, taunting you and making your emotions tear in a million different directions.

“Roman, I think it’s time for you to leave.” You say, running your tongue over your teeth. 

“No! I’m not fucking leaving. Tell me you don’t miss me too.” Roman took a step toward you as he ran a hand through his slicked down hair, ruining it’s perfection. 

“I have to get up early, so I just really think you should go.” 

“(Y/N), tell me you don’t miss me and I’ll leave right now. You’ll never see me again, I swear.” 

You don’t respond, just cross your arms over your chest. You rub your hands over the skin of your arms, peaking your fingers beneath your shirtsleeves and gripping the fabric tightly. 

“Just tell me.”

You meet his gaze as Roman closes the gap between the two of you. He was close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin and the warmth he radiated. An unwarranted chill set through you. 

All hope of forgetting the past and moving on was gone, you didn’t care anymore. All you wanted was for Roman to leave. You wanted him to leave so you could wrap yourself in blankets and cry until you couldn’t see anymore.

“Roman, just go.” You whispered, your vocal chords straining to even do that. 

“It’s because you can’t say that you don’t.” Roman raised a hand a single finger tracing the features of your face and causing your eyes to drift shut. 

He traced your orbital bone and the angle of your nose and your eyebrow and ear. He traced your jaw and your chin and the shape of your ear and stopped to caress your lips. 

With each swoop of his finger tip, he was erasing hurt and anguish and pain. He was soothing you and giving you an old form of intimacy that you had craved. He was regaining his sense of self in your mind, reminding you that he could act like he had before that night. He was twining his roots back into your mind.

When his finger finally stopped, you opened your eyes and saw tears had gathered in Roman’s. They were threatening to breech from his lash line as he stared at you with a drumming heart. 

“Tell me why you hurt me first.” 

And Roman dropped his hand and said nothing for a long moment. 

“It’s a long story.” He replies, sniffling loudly through his nose. 

“I’ve got time.” 

“It’s not pretty.” 

“I don’t care.”

You had moved to the dining room for Roman’s story. You both sat on opposite ends of your mother’s old mosaic table that you had both eaten many meals at. It was covered in vintage tiles and you picked at the surrounding grout as you listened to him. You ground your fingernails between the titles, filing them into powder as Roman told you about his birthday and everything that had happened since the night you left him. 

Of Letha. Of the child. Of the razor blades embedded into his arms. Of his mother’s tongue. Of the bloodlust. 

Of the loss.

“This is some fucking Twilight bullshit.” You said once Roman had gone quiet.

“This isn’t fucking funny, (Y/N).” Roman replied, bouncing his knee and pinching his chin. 

“No, it’s not fucking funny at all, Roman. Not even a bit, but it is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard in my life.” You snort a laugh from your nose. 

“You don’t believe me?” 

“Oh, I believe you. After all that shit with Peter, of course I believe you. Doesn’t make it any less ridiculous.” 

Roman raises his eyebrows in understanding with a slight nod. 

“So, what? You saying all that shit to me was because you thought you were going to suck me dry, or something?” 

“Stop making jokes.” He growled. 

“I’m being fucking serious, Roman! What was it?” You stood from your chair to impose over him. 

“You deserved better. It would have been too much for you.” 

“Oh, don’t be such a martyr, Roman!” You fumed, “Since when have you ever got to decide what was good and what was bad for me?” 

“You don’t understand!” Roman pushed up from his chair with such force it tumbled to the floor, “I could barley fucking handle this, OK? I had been living a lie, I had become a monster overnight! I was fucking scared for you- scared for me. What I could do-” 

His voice began to quiver and his palms shook as he wiped his clammy palms on his slacks. 

“You would either have left me or I would have killed you. I don’t doubt that for a second, and I couldn’t lose anyone else. Not after Letha, not after Peter and Shelley. I just couldn’t.” 

“So, pushing me away was the answer?” You asked. 

“At the time, yes.”

You just shook your head, and collapsed back into your chair.

“I did it because I loved you.” Roman said, tears streaking his flushed cheeks. 

“Stop, Roman...” 

“I fucking loved you so much so I made you leave. I fucking love you more than anything.”

He spoke like he was taking his last breath and collapsed to his knees like a dying man, his bones smacking loudly against the linoleum as he crawled to you, tears still leaking from his eyes. 

“You have to believe that I’m sorry. I am, I am, I am.” 

Roman rested his head on your lap as he wept, his hands clutching your calves. 

You felt like you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think or speak. All your mind could comprehend was Roman’s deep and encompassing sadness and his wayward soul. 

You could barely grasp the story he told, so it was unimaginable to you how it must have felt to live it. Your heart ached for him so profoundly. 

Of course you didn’t agree with what he had done to you, not for a moment. He had resorted to cruelty out of fear and you hated it. It was inexcusable. 

But, you folded yourself in half and covered his body with yours anyway, and let Roman cry in your lap. You let him cry out the fear and sadness and the exhaustion he had felt these past months. 

You had let Roman cry himself dry before escorting him to the door. He held your hand on the way and you didn’t stop him. When you reached the door, Roman was the one to open it and step out into the cold Pennsylvania night. Though, his hand stayed intertwined with your own as he walked out onto your porch.  

“What time is the funeral?” He asked. 

“10 AM.” You replied. 

His skin seemed to glow against the night sky, his milky complexion contrasting beautifully to the dark nature behind him. 

“I’ll be there.” 

You shook your head, but squeezed his hand, “You don’t have to, really. It’s going to be long and boring.” 

“(Y/N),” He looked at you with a crisp sincerity, “I’ll be there.” 

You didn’t know what to say, because you weren’t entirely sure what you should say. You wanted to beg him not to come and make a spectacle at his attendance. You wanted to beg him to come and hold your hand and ward off the demons your father had sewn into your psyche. 

“Please, Roman, it’s not a big deal. I swear. I’m sure you have better things to do.” 

He pursed his lips back at you, like he was deciding if arguing with you on the matter was really worth it. Or if he would win or not. In the end, he said nothing. Just nodded and glanced over to his bright red Jaguar in the driveway. 

When Roman looked back to you, you both knew a goodbye wasn’t needed. Your love-telepathy coming back just for a moment to bid each other adidu for the night. An intimacy you didn’t even know you missed until now. 

Roman was the first to step away, pulling your hands apart as he did. You felt each finger detangle from his own, until your pinkies were the only things tethering you to each other. When they detached, your hand fell listlessly to your side and Roman watched you intently as he walked to his car, got in, and pulled from your drive away. Only looking away when he finally drove into the night. 

You smoothed the dress over your hips as you smiled politely at guests entering the church. They offered you watery smiles and condolences as they spread out into the pews.

You wanted to spit in their faces and scream. Scream and sink your nails into your skin and tell them that he had painted bruises on your skin and installed his hatred for you into your heart before you were old enough to know it was wrong. 

He wasn’t a good man. He was far from it. 

But no one who was crying tears for him and shaking your hand knew this, and if they did they didn’t care. He was good at hiding what he did, what he had become. 

You felt like your head was in a fish bowl with the more people who entered. Their faces blurring and distorting before you, their words muffled and useless. You began just nodding at everyone’s words, refusing to listen to anything else they had to say about Heaven and God’s good will. You wished you had a good excuse to leave and never come back. 

It wasn’t until someone wheeled in the casket that you found your escape from the line of mourners and made your way outside. Because the second you laid eyes on the box of shiny mahogany, your stomach dropped to your feet and bile threatened to spill from your lips. 

The man you had hated your entire life, the one who had hurt you, the one who struck you, the one who had belittled you, the man who hurt your mother. That man was dead. He was in that fucking box, seperated from you and the living by a few inches of wood.

That man was your father and he was supposed to love you and now he was filled with stuffing and had waxy skin covered in blush and a heart that would never beat again. A mouth that was sewn shut and would never speak again. To never yell, to laugh, to tell you he loved you. 

It was over. 

Then why were you so sad? 

Maybe Peter was right... maybe you’d even tell him. 

As you made your way outside, you sucked in as much fresh air as your lungs could take. You let the cold air chill your exposed skin and the grey skies calm your overstimulated senses. While gulping in the breeze and pressing your fingernails to your palms to ground yourself, you gazed out over the parking lot. It was then, that you shed your first tears of the day.

Because there, all in black leaning against his car was Roman Godfrey, looking right back at you.

He’d come. 

Because he cared. 

Because he loved you. 

You didn’t think twice as he ran down the church steps as fast as your heels could take you to him, needing to feel him. Roman did the same, rushing across the asfalte to you, wrapping you in his arms immediately as you collided with his chest. 

“You came,” You sobbed into his button down, “You came, you came, you came.” 

“Of course I did.” He cooed, nuzzling close to you. 

“I needed you and you knew and you came.” 

“I’ll always come, even when you don’t call.” 

As you both went back to the church, Roman stood with you to greet people coming in. His hand on your lower back and his grandiose stature and expression keeping people from dawdling too long to speak with you. 

The service was bleak and full of lies, but you mustered through it without a scoff or outburst for your grandparents sake. Roman sat next to you the entire time, his arm over your shoulder and his temple resting against your head. He’d occasionally place a gentle kiss to your hairline or stroke his fingers over your arm as a reminder that he was with you. 

And you loved him for it.

When it was all over and your father’s casket was being rolled away, everyone dispersed. Some to follow the hearse to the graveyard, some to just go home. You and Roman stayed in your seats. You had decided you didn’t want to see your father put in the ground. Not because he didn’t deserve it, but because you couldn’t handle it. You weren’t sure exactly all the reasons why, maybe Peter would know the answer to that, too.

You both waited until no one was left in the church, just watching the sun gleam through the stained glass windows at the ceiling and enjoying each other's company. 

“You alright?” Roman asked once he was sure everyone was gone. 

“I don’t know. I’m still figuring that out, I guess.” You said with a half hearted shrug. 

“It’s OK. You have time.” 

You gave a nod before leaning closer to him, resting your head underneath his own, letting Roman sit his chin on your crown. 

“I thought I would be overjoyed when this day finally came… but I’m not. I’m not really happy and I’m not really sad. I’m just here.”

“I think that’s just fine.” Roman replied, rubbing gentle up and down your arm. 

“Thank you for being here.” You remove yourself from under his chin to look at him, “It would have been so much worse without you.” 

Roman offered you a soft smile and placed his unoccupied hand on your cheek. 

You placed your own hand over his and shut your eyes, reveling in his soft touch. 

It was so quiet and all you could hear was the sound of your heart in your ears and Roman’s rhythmic breathing.

“What now?” 

“I’m not sure,” You open your eyes to see he’s already looking at you, “Where are you going?” 

“Wherever you are.” 

You smile, “Then take me there.” 

As you walked through Roman’s front door, you tried to hide a frown. The old Godfrey mansion had been so intricate and full of character. With crown molding and warm golds and rich browns, and history in every nook and cranny. Roman’s new home… it was sterile and bland and grey. It felt cold even with the hum of the radiator. It felt large and imposing, much like it’s owner. It was the type of home that echoed with loneliness.   

“So, what do you think?” Roman asked from where he stood close behind you. 

“I like it,” You said, “It’s very…” 

“You hate it.” 

You turned to face him and he was looking at you fondly. 

“I wouldn’t say hate. Just, not my style.” 

He nods and takes a step forward, “Yeah, I sort of knew you wouldn’t like it.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You always loved the old house. Said it felt like you were in a  victorian novel.” 

Your heart fluttered in your chest at his memory, “And you always hated it.” 

“I wouldn’t say hate. Just, not my style.” He grins at you and you can’t help but smile back at him. 

“So, you decided when you moved out you’d make your new place the antithesis of it?” 

“Something like that. Anything to erase the memory of my mother.” Roman says this with the cadence of a joke, but his eyes darken at the mention of Olivia. 

“I can’t say I blame you.” You reply before he quickly changes the subject. 

“Have a seat and I’ll make us both a drink,” He says, gesturing toward his large loveseat in the living room. 

You do so, and as you sit down, you admire him standing over the wet bar. He had shed his blazer from his suit on the kitchen table, and through the fabric of his button down (an expensive silk blend from the looks of it) you could so the movement of his broad shoulders and the expanse of the muscles in his back. 

The memory of running your hands across the peaks and valleys of his back stuck you. The memory of his smooth skin under your palms made your fingers burn with yearning and twitch with need to reacquaint yourself with the velvet that was Roman Godfrey’s skin.  

Roman had finished making your drinks. Both crimson in crystal tumblers. He walked to you and handed you the beverage, which you accepted with a thank you. As you took your first sip of your drink, you couldn't help but smile as Roman sat down next to you on his couch. 

“Vodka cranberry?” 

“Like I’d forget your favorite drink,” He says, smiling against the rim of his tumbler, “Well, second favorite. I don’t really have the ingredients for a Long Island iced tea.” 

“I think this works better under the circumstances, anyway. Drinking a Long Island iced tea after a funeral feels a little morbid.” 

“Yeah, but your dad would’ve hated that you were drinking one.” Roman pointed out. 

You chuckled, because he was right. Your father hated drinks where the alcohol was masked by chasers and sugar. He deemed them feminine and embarrassing for anyone to drink, ridiculing anyone (no matter their gender) if they ordered one. 

“That is true,” You take a pull from your glass, “He would have hated that you went to his funeral, too. Because, well he hated you.” 

Roman gives a wide smirk, “I can’t say that doesn't bring me some joy.” 

You could count on one hand the number of times your father met Roman during the years you dated. Though, everytime he had, he made his distinct dislike for your boyfriend overwhelmingly obvious. He thought of Roman like most other people in town did. A spoiled, rich, entitled, sauve asshole. But, for your father, he felt like he had a personal stake in hating Roman. He masqueraded like he didn’t like Roman simply for dating his daughter, but he didn’t give a shit about you or your well being. Your father, the pathetic drunk that he was, was threatened by Roman more than any man you had ever met. He was the one person who he couldn’t intimidate and feel superior too, because Roman didn’t feel intimidated or lesser to anyone in the world. 

“Me too.” 

You both drink in silence for a moment, and you pretend not to notice Roman as he inched closer to you on the cushions. 

“Do you remember,” Roman says, swallowing a gulp of his drink, “that time we snuck into that club in Philadelphia? And you and Letha, just got, like absolutely abliderated on Long Island iced teas?” 

You smiled at the memory, your lips parting with glee the more you remembered about the night. 

“Yes! Oh my God, I had totally forgot about that.”

Roman had paid off some bouncer to let the three of you into some club downtown and it had been a spectacular night. You and Letha were guzzling drinks like it was the end of the world. Roman was only encouraging your recklessness with jokes and bankrolling the bottomless teas. Letha had danced on the bar top while singing you an off key Elton John song while you drunkenly squealed with glee in a hysterical Roman’s arms. You had never seen Roman laugh so much until that night. 

You all danced and drank and laughed and smiled. You had all hid in a corner as you had fished out cocaine from a baggy with your pinky nail, and held it to each Godfrey’s nose like you were giving them communion, before blessing yourself. 

You distinctly remember hanging off Roman like a kola most of the night. Giving him sloppy kisses and groping him in the crowd with whispered promises of more when you were alone. You remember him smiling down at you and always having a hand on your ass. You remember Letha’s happy screams and giggles and how she was twirling so much on the dance floor she tumbled. 

“That was a really good night.” You said. 

Roman nodded, “It was. It was one of those rare times I could get Letha out of her shell.” 

The mood dipped from happy memories to grief as his cousin's untimely death was remembered. It was written clear as day on Roman’s face that he was far from healed from her passing.

“I miss her, too.” You placed a hand on his. 

“Yeah. Life isn’t far, huh?” You saw he was trying to ward off a wash of emotion, not wanting to wallow in her death, because it wasn’t an easy pit to push himself out of. 

“No, it really isn’t.” 

If life was fair, Olivia would have been long deceased. Roman wouldn’t have ever been coerced to do any heinous acts. Letha would be alive. Shelley would have never vanished. 

You didn’t dare bring up his missing sister to Roman, because that pain was almost worse than the wound Letha’s death had inflicted. For the both of you. 

You had learned from Peter the previous day that Shelley was still missing with no leads in finding her. You had nodded but said nothing else and he had let you. 

You had always been close with Shelley. She was so kind and sweet, and incredibly understanding and thoughtful. You were the only two women Roman truly loved and that bonded you in a way, to be the only ones to have his unfettered devotion. The thought of Shelley, out in the world alone, scared and labeled a fugitive made you sick. You couldn’t think about it for long without your nausea sparking and tears forming in your eyes. 

“What I said to you… that night? That wasn’t fair either. It wasn’t fair of me to hurt you like that.” Roman says, his eyes cast down. 

“Roman, we don’t have to do this again. It’s fine, no worries.” You said as casually as possible. 

“No, but it really wasn’t,” Roman shakes his head and rotates his body toward you. 

“I said those things because I was scared, not because they were true. You have to know that.” 

You swallow thickly and nod. Rationally, you knew that was true. After Roman had explained to you yesterday the reason for his vicious one-eighty toward you, you knew that he was only being cruel to push you away. But the words still hurt, they were still brutal enough to feel like there was an ounce of truth to them. 

“I was wrong, I can see that now, yknow? I was really wrong for all of that,” Roman lamented, “I fucked up.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). That’s what I really want to say, what I really want you to know. And you know me, probably better than anyone in the world, maybe even more than I know myself,” He huffed a laugh, “And you know that I don’t apologize. Because I’m not wrong. I’m just not. I don’t say I’m sorry, not to anyone… but this, I gotta own up to. Because I was wrong for hurting you, pushing you away.”

You listened to Roman with baited breath. 

“You were the only person who ever really saw me. Looked into my eyes and saw past the bullshit and accepted me, loved me… and the idea of you hating me forever killed me, fucking killed me so much. But it was better than you sticking around and seeing that all that bullshit was true, and maybe I was even worse.” 

“Roman,” You rasped, gripping his hand tighter, your fingernails biting into his skin. 

“I promised to never hurt you, to protect you, keep you safe. And I failed.” 

Roman had always been protective of his loved ones. He hoarded them like a dragon with gold, prowling in front of them with bared teeth and spitting fury. You still remember the first time he pledged his devotion to you, his undying protection and loyalty. 

It was after the first time he had met your father. A dinner at the Godfrey mansion with your parents, Olivia, Shelley, yourself and Roman. It was an evening requested by Olivia to meet the parents of the girl who had bewitched her son. 

She had been her typical elitist self, turning her nose up at your middle class parents with joy. You were sure she was vibrating in her seat with happiness that she could feel so superior to your average parents. Likely hoping Roman would see this too, and kick you to the curb. 

You mother had been aimable, mostly quiet. You always thought of your mother as a very charming woman, who could talk to anyone no matter the circumstance. But, Olivia would barely let her get a word in, so she took the hint. Though, you could tell Shelley liked her, and that warmed your heart. 

The night’s conversation was dominated by Olivia for the most part, regaling the Godfrey wealth and stories of her privileged life. When she wasn’t boasting about herself, your father would be the one to chime in. Either with an offensive comment or with his poor table manners. It was like having a wild boar in the Shangri La and you felt your face heat with consistent humiliation. You could see your mother twitch uncomfortably across from you whenever he would act, and you knew she was in the same boat. 

You were already planning your apology to Roman when your father spoke up. You had been too busy stewing in your mortification to follow the conversation being had at the time. 

“Well, I tell you something, Roman. This one over here,” Your father stuck his fork over to you, “Isn’t gonna be a good little wife, not like your mother is.” 

Your father threw a smarmy grin to Olivia.

“You’re gonna have to wipe her into shape. Always wants to back talk and cross her damn arms and stomp her damn feet at you.”

Your father laughs and nuges your mother with his elbow, like he had made a joke. Like he thought this joke about you as Roman’s meek little wife would please Olivia and your boyfriend. 

Olivia laughed along and made a comment about her predisposition to wifehood because of her upbring, while Roman seethed. You could see his jaw flexing and hear the sound of his ragged breaths through his nose. You discreetly placed your hand on his lap, doing your best to calm him, but it did nothing as your father continued to make comments about your disrespectful personality, all with the cadence of a joke. 

“Why don’t you go out for a smoke?” Roman said to your father through gritted teeth. 

“Excuse me?” You father said, stopping mid sentence and glaring at Roman. 

“I said, why don’t you go out for a smoke and cool off? And when you come back, be a little fucking nicer?” 

Roman’s eyes bore into your father’s as he spoke. Your father looked furious at this teenage boy’s demand, and you were sure there was going to be a fight. Both men were incredibly hot headed, that this evening might even end in a physical altercation. But, your father just pushed up from the table and left the five of you in awkward silence. Roman relaxed once your father was gone, taking your hand from his lap and intertwining your fingers together on the tabletop. Your mother soon struck up a conversation with Olivia about the antique chaise lounge in the living room. 

Roman held your hand for the rest of the night. When your father returned, he stayed silent. 

When it was time for your parents to leave, Roman offered to drive you home. Though, the minute both you were out of sight of his home and your parents, he pulled over.

“Roman, I am so sorry about-” You began, but Roman stopped you by placing his hands firmly on your cheeks. 

“Don’t apologize. Not for that fucking man.” He said, his tone turning venomous when he mentioned your father. 

“The fucking nerve of him,” Roman spat, his hands tightening on your face, “The fucking nerve of him to speak like that about you. And to me! To me in my fucking home. I’m going to kill him, I’ll fucking kill him.” 

Roman spoke sincerely and you wondered for a moment if you asked him to kill your father, would he? 

“He’s not worth it, he’s not even worth your anger.” You sighed, placing your hand on his wrist and stroking his skin with your thumb. 

“He isn’t worth shit. That fucking cunt.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle as you watched your boyfriend speak obscenities. 

“What?” 

“You look very sexy when you’re this mad.” 

You could see Roman’s face visibly relax. You knew he was still angry, but your comment had placated him.     

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” You grinned at him and began to lean in for a kiss when Roman stopped you. 

You looked into his eyes again and you saw this serious demoaner was back. 

“I will never let him say anything like what he said tonight to you again, OK? Never. I’ll never let him fucking touch you again,” Roman came to rest his forehead to yours, “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. I will keep you safe forever.” 

And you believed him. You believed him more than you had ever believed a single person in your life. There wasn’t an ounce of you in that moment that could argue with him. You trusted him fully. 

“Ok.” Was all you could say with the emotion that was brewing from his confession, before he finally pulled you to his lips. 

It was the first time you realized you loved him. 

“All I have ever wanted is to keep you safe.” He said it with the same vigor and sincerity that he had in his original vow to you in his car on the side of the road. 

And again, you couldn’t help but believe him. 

“I forgive you.” You really did. 

He was swathing you with the salve of love and honesty, healing the wounds he carved into your skin with his earnest. 

“You were scared, you had just had your life turned upside down… I get it. It’s OK. I’m not blameless either. I said some nasty things.” 

Roman looks up from where your hands are connected and gives you a signature fierce stare.

The weight of his gaze on you feels heavy as he leans forward to set his glass on the coffee table. His eyes never leave yours as he does. As he moves back to the couch, he uses his movement to his advantage to seamlessly reach out to cup your jaw, as he settled back next to you, much closer than before. 

Goosebumps bit across your flesh as the feeling of his broad palm engulfed your face and his breath began to fan across your lips. Roman was smooth, he was graceful and agile in everything he did. Everything including the set up to a kiss, especially a long awaited and important one. 

Roman glides his middle and forefinger up to cradle your ear, to anchor himself to you before using his thumb on the underside of your jaw to tilt your chin. You blood was rushing loudly through your ears and all you could think of was him as Roman’s other arm came to rest across the back of the sofa and ecase you in his arms. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip before he descended for yours. 

And you felt euphoric. A warmth in the pit of your stomach that only Roman would kindle.

Roman nuzzled his lips against your mouth, the tip of his nose brushing your own. Your hands migrated to lay purchase on his shoulders as you let Roman pull you impossibly close to his body. You could feel his heated cheeks against your face and you could feel his racing pulse beneath your fingers as he tipped your face up and opened his mouth into the kiss. His tongue dipped past your lips and you accepted him with a soft whimper. 

Your sound of pleasure surged Roman on as he began to kiss you harder. Sweeter. Messier. Hotter. Just like he always had. 

Soon, you were flat against the couch cushions, Roman above you as his hands explored your body. Your legs bracketed his hips, pushing the heels of your feet against the tops of his thighs to keep him snug against you. Your hands clutched his back tightly, the very same back you had been craving to get your hands on since you walked through the door. 

Roman’s lips detached from your own to drift to your cheeks, your jaw and your neck. To bite, to suck and lick with his sinful tongue. You keened and moaned at his attentions, your back arching into him. The spit he left in his wake met the air in a chilling exchange that cooled your fiery skin. 

“My baby,” He said to your skin. 

“My girl,” He groaned. 

“Mine,” He bit the junction of your neck and shoulder. 

“Mine, mine, mine,” 

You didn’t want to be present while listening to his possessions. You wanted to let them grip you and own you and continue to make your stomach flutter. You didn’t want to have to tell Roman right now that you didn’t know if you could be his again…

“You’re mine, always, always, always,” Roman moaned against you, his voice pornographically seductive. 

“Yes, please,” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but you just knew you didn’t want the feeling of Roman to stop. 

“It’s me and you, we’re together again, it’ll all be OK now,” He says before giving you another sloppy kiss. 

“Be with me, be here. We can make it work.” 

Roman goes back to attacking your neck with his petal soft lips, but you were finally snapped from your the haze of pleasure he had accosted you with. 

“Roman, hold on,” You pushed your hands on his shoulder, “Stop.” 

“What?” He pulled away from you quickly, chest heaving as he looked down at you. 

He looked so boyishly innocent. His lips flush from kissing and his once perfect hair askew from your ministrations. Eyes wide and questioning. He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. 

“I,” You took a pause, “I can’t stay here, Roman. I just can’t.” 

He looked like you’ve shocked him, stuck his finger in an electrical socket and watched. Roman pushed himself further up, but still hovered over you. 

“What do you mean you can’t stay?” He says your words back to you like they were a personal affront. 

“I live in New York now, that’s where my life is. I can’t just leave.” 

Roman’s jaw flexes and you watch him swallow. 

“What? So, this means nothing?” He gestures between your bodies. 

“No, of course not. Of course it means something.” You replied hastily. 

But, Roman was already getting up off of you and started to pace the length of his kitchen. You pushed up to watch him with concern. 

“I don’t know what you want me to do, I said I was sorry and I am. I really, truly am! So, why can’t you just stay with me? Be with me?” He argued. 

“I know you are! I do, but just because I know you’re sorry doesn’t change the fact that I have a life somewhere else now, Ro. I can’t just abandon it.” 

“Why can’t you? Just come home!” Roman threw his arms up in anger. 

“I don’t want to abandon it, Roman. I don’t want to leave. I like it there.” You move yourself onto your knees as you speak. 

“Jesus fucking-” Roman looked away from you and tugs at his hair, “I can’t believe you right now!” 

“Roman,” You sigh. 

“No! You know what? I have been declaring my fucking love for you for the past two days and that just means nothing to you? Because it doesn’t mean nothing to me.” 

“It means something-!” You begin, but Roman talks over you. 

“And that, that on the couch, that fucking meant something to me! Because you mean something to me, (Y/N). You always have and you always will.” He’s shouting now, if he had any neighbors you’re sure they would be able to hear. 

Your eyes filmed with tears as you watch him. 

“And fuck, while I’ve been going on like a bitch about how I love you, how I’m devoted to you, and you haven’t said shit! Not a word.” Roman’s eyes are beginning to wet as well. 

“Is that what this is? You don’t fucking love me?” His anger cracks as his voice quivers. 

“Roman, no!” You spring from where you knelt on the couch and rush to him, “I do, you know I do. I love you! I love you so much I ache.” 

You cry freely now as you try to clutch his face, but Roman brushes you off. 

“I love you, I have always loved you Roman. I always will. But,” 

“But what? How is that not enough!”

“I need you to love me enough to know there is nothing for me here.”

“Not even me?” His lip quivers. 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Your hands shake and so does your breath, “I mean there is not real life for me here. You have The Tower and that’s you life, but what about me? What could I possibly do here that would make me happy?”

Roman says nothing, just swallows a hiccup that threatened to burst from his throat.

“I need you to love me enough to let me leave.”

Roman’s face crumbles into a drastic frown as he fights tears, “I can’t. I can’t do that, not again, I can’t. I can’t let you leave again.” 

“Baby,” You choke out. 

“No! I can’t, I love you. So, please, just love me enough to stay. I’ll give you everything you could ever want, anything you could ever dream of to make it better here.”

“Roman, I love you. I do, I always will. But, maybe this will be good for us. Have time apart to be our own people. I think it might even be healthy?” You say your last words with a watery smile that Roman doesn’t return. 

“I don’t want to have time apart. I had time apart from you and I was fucking miserable.” He states. 

The thought of Roman all alone in this house, heartbroken and stewing in pity and anger makes your heart convulse with pain. You thought of all the nights you slept in your dorm room, silent tears streaking your cheeks as you held your hand over your mouth in hopes to not wake your roommate. You wondered if on the nights you cried for him, if Roman had cried for you? Had he cried at all? Or while you were pouring yourself into your studies to forget him, he was fucking whores to forget you?

“Roman, please just… I love you, just please,” Again, you had no idea what you were begging for. For him to let you leave? For him to convince you to stay? All you knew was that this day had been so catosphroticlly emotionally draining and all you wanted was to fall into his arms for comfort.

“Do you want to be apart from me?” He asked bluntly. 

“Roman, just-” 

“Answer me. Do you want to be apart from me anymore?” 

Your mouth was thick with discarded tears and phlegm. All you could do was look at him and hope he understood you. To tell him you didn’t. 

His eyes softened and you knew your mental tether was still intact. 

Roman takes a step toward you and moves his head to be level with your own, “Then we’ll make this work. I’ll convince NYU to let you take online classes from here, OK? I’ll build them some new buildings - hell! A new campus. I’ll be their new biggest donor, their new favorite fucking person. I’ll give them whatever they want as long as they give me you in return.” 

“I can’t ask you to do that, Roman.” You look down at your feet. 

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” 

You pierce your teeth into your bottom lip and look back up at him. Back at Roman with his pink, glossy eyes and hopeful gaze. 

“I love the city…” 

“Then we’ll fly up every weekend, no exceptions. I’ll buy us a loft in the heart of Manhattan.You can design it to your heart’s content. Make it will feel warm and old and us. The opposite of this place.” Roman says quickly like he knew that would be your next rebuttal. 

You gasp a sob and close your eyes tight. You feel Roman close the distance between you both and cup your face in his large hands. 

“And we will figure the rest out, whatever else is holding you back. We’ll find you your dream job or your passion or whatever you want.” 

You crack your pulsing eyes, to see Roman’s face now streaked with tears. 

“Just tell me you’ll stay.”

You knew this was a risk. You knew he was a risk. You knew leaving New York and NYU sounded naive and utterly foolish to someone on the outside of your and Roman’s relationship. You knew that you would fight with him, that you would get angry with him, that he’d work too much and that he would have to reschedule trips to the city. You knew you would get irritated with each other and you’d say something snarky and Roman would say something mean. You knew there would be nights you went to bed angry and days where you gave each other the silent treatment. You knew it would be hard. Most things involving Roman were. Expect loving him.

You knew that even with all the bad that came with a relationship with Roman, it was eons better than being without him for a moment longer now that you had him again. 

You had wanted to look to the future, to forget the past and forge a new way for yourself. Truthfully, you still did. But maybe you could start over with Roman by your side? Wash away the pain of his indiscretions and learn and grow and heal together? You hoped you could. You hope you weren’t letting your overwhelming love for the man in front of you cloud your judgements. 

So, you placed your hands on his neck and watched his face turn hopeful and said: 

“Ok.”

i really wish i could say i loved this, but i am really on the fence about if this story is even good at all? it was better in my head. but! i hope you enjoyed it anyway and pllsss if you did, gimme some feedback <3 it makes me happy :-)

[everlarkficquestions]

Sunday Stumped Day 35

It’s another Sunday Stumped Day!

Sometimes we straight out get stumped. So every few months we will pick a Sunday when we’ll post of a list of asks that we need your help on. 

In this round, we are focusing on asks for specific stories.   If your ask for a more general “type of” story is not included, it does not mean we are ignoring it, it just means we need more time to research and answer these asks. 

If  you know the answer to any of these asks please shoot us a message/  ask/  with the Post number and the fic details and we’ll add it and give you a shout out with our thanks.  Any links you can provide will also be super helpful.

Thanks!

Post 1 , Post 2 , Post 3, Post 4, Post 5, Post 6, Post 7, Post 8, Post 9, Post 10, Post 11, Post 12, Post 13, Post 14, Post 15, Post 16, Post 17, Post 18, Post 19, Post 20, Post 21, Post 22 , Post 23, Post 24, Post 25, Post 26,  Post 27, Post 28, Post 29 , Post 30, Post 31, Post 32, Post 33 and Post 34 can be found here - and there are still fics we need your help with.

576.  Anonymous said to everlarkficquestions:  Hi, I am searching everlarkfic that I read couple years ago in ff.net. Post mockingjay, Katniss and Peeta are getting married then when they’ll rebuild Peeta's family bakery, peeta got collapse and they find out that he was dying. In the end peeta died. Annie and Katniss's mother had to move Katniss to district 4 to taking care of her. In district 4, Katniss met with gale and they were slowly building relationships from there?

577. its-hopeless-romantic said to everlarkficquestions: Hey,I am looking for fic in which Peeta is Katniss's college professor (he is 10 years older than her) and they fall in love. He is teaching history of art and I remember he invited her to the opening of his galery. I remembre that he goes to Italy to teach for a few months and before that he introduces her to his family. I think it has 2 long chapters in second one there is his proposal. (It's called Lessons in Love or something like, but I can't find it)thanks 💕💕💕

578. alwayseverlark said to everlarkficquestions:Hi! Looking for a in Panem fic (I think no games) , where Peeta is working in the mines and an accident happens and Katniss is looking for him thinking he’s dead , but Gale thinks she wa s looking for him instead and when he realizes , he’s mad at Katniss.I am not sure if this is one fic... or if I’m mixing two different fics...Thansk!

579. stonyspideypool said to everlarkficquestions:I'm looking for a fanfic were I think katniss wants peeta to take control/be more dominant so she calls johanna and johanna tells her that peeta would never force himself on her and he has dealt with so much blue balls over the years that he's used to it or something (lmao) sorry that's all I remember 😅😅Love the page btw💙❤ literally its the only reason I'm on tumblr, thank you💕

580. amesielee said to everlarkficquestions:Hi I'm looking for a fanfic. It's either a one shot 2 shot or 3 shot and it's about Peeta and Katniss having sex. It's their first time and once it's over Peeta grabs a wash cloth for Katniss to help her out. She then gets mad and assumes he has done it before with Delly. I think Peeta didn't know it was her first time. And Peeta says maybe we are just good together. He then asks if she loves him. It's on Tumblr. I hope you can help xx

581. booksandeverlark said to everlarkficquestions:Hi there! Another story I remember reading but can’t think of the title. I know Leeta is older then Katniss. Peeta knew Katniss’ Parents and is their age. Katniss likes Peeta and Peeta keeps telling her he’s too old for her but she doesn’t care. They start to date and Katniss dad finds out before they can tell and eggs mad. I think Peeta also gets hurt protecting Katniss and how she reacts makes her dad see they are serious. Thanks so much for the help

582. everlark-always said to everlarkficquestions:Trying to find a fic...modern au where katniss is with her friends (Annie Johanna Finnick Gale madge....) at a party and they find her the next morning in bed with Peeta?

(582) This could be I Dare You (To Stay) by Thewritershae - thank you @allie-rose

583.��justanotherrandomaccount9999 said to everlarkficquestions:Hi! Do you know of a fic where it the story is about each time peeta ruins a cake? I read it before but forgot the title. The last time was when he made Katniss a cake for her birthday but dropped it when she said she was pregnant. Thanks for everything you've done for this fandom btw :)

584. pleasantturtletheorist-blog said to everlarkficquestions:Hi! So this might be a tricky one (bc I don’t remember much of the plot lol) but basically in this fic Peeta was like “don’t deny me post-sex cuddles” or something along those lines hahah. And I remember the scene being really cute but I can’t remember much else about it. I know this is very vague but if you could help I’d really appreciate it!! 🥺🥺

(584) This is possibly Blowout by Annieoakley1. - Thanks to @sunsetsrmydreams

585. yeeyeejones73 said to everlarkficquestions:Hello:) I was wondering if y’all know the name of a fic where it’s canon post mockingjay and everlark is growing back together slowly. I remember peeta gets a boner while Katniss and him are sleeping. I also think Peeta accidentally sees Katniss in only her towel after a shower and it’s super cute and awkward. I hope y’all can help and also thanks for all y’all do!

586. superpineappleenthusiast said to everlarkficquestions:Hey, I'm looking for a fic where the tributes of 74th games escape the arena. Thanks!

587. anonymous-loner95 said to everlarkficquestions:What the fic where Peeta thinks he's about to sleep with some random girl, which I think is actually is Jo, but is tricked into a room with Katniss?

588. thatgirl56834 said to everlarkficquestions:Hi! First of all, I love this blog! You guys rock! I’ve been looking for a one shot I used to read all the time. It was where Katniss and Peeta were friends in middle school and kissed after their dance but then Katniss moved away. Years later they ended up being neighbors and getting together. Peeta lied about who he was at first but then Katniss figured it out. If you know what this fic is, I’d love to read it again! 💗

588 FOUND!  Wishes Old and New by Peetasbunmyoven. Thank you, @sunsetsrmydreams and @allie-rose

589. neonsnail said to everlarkficquestions:Hey I'm looking for a fic where peeta meets katniss and she has some kind of vision that if she gets pregnant prim dies and tries to stay away from peeta but she fails and then she sleeps with peeta to try to get pregnant and fails then disappears and they meet again a few years later and become a couple

589 FOUND! The story ha been identified as The Fool by Myusernamehere but unfortunately it has been deleted by the author.  Thank you @katnissdoesnotfollowback​

590. everlark-always said to everlarkficquestions: what’s the fic where Peeta cheats (post mockingjay) on Katniss and because of this she ends up with someone else?

591. everlark-always said to everlarkficquestions: Peeta and Katniss are in highschool and Peeta goes to prom with Madge and Katniss goes with Gale. She wears a burgundy dress and at the pre prom thing she meets an old friend from home named Josh.

592. tributeintraining said to everlarkficquestions:I'm looking for a specific fanfic I read years ago. It's a modern AU where Katniss and Gale are in a band together. Katniss is the guitarist and doesn't sing. Gale is married to Madge but was having an affair with Katniss. The public finds out and she leaves the band. She goes solo and starts a PR relationship with Peeta. Her first solo performance is singing "Shake it out". That's all I remember. Thank!

593. supreme-doritos said to everlarkficquestions:Hi! im looking for a fic where the rebellion happens early and the capitol gets overthrown before the 74th hunger games by a tribute (then victor) from district 7. At one point katniss and peeta (who lost his leg in the bombing) look after haymitch but he ends up killing himself so they don't starve during a really harsh winter. Before he dies he asks katniss to give chaff a naked lady mug/glass (i cant remember the name lol sorry) Thank you! I really appreciate you guys <3

593 FOUND!  The Avalanche And Little Pebbles by Dyce - thanks to @eggplant8

594. entwodreiquatrocinq-blog said to everlarkficquestions: So i'm looking for this fanfic I read once on FF.net. Peeta and Katniss are intimate in the catching fire arena, and later in district 13, she finds out that she pregnant. Peeta is either in a coma or captured and one of his brothers survived. I believe there is a fight between Katniss and the brother, and he says something like "just because you f'ed my brother in front of the entire country doesn't mean....."  That's all I remember, I hope it's specific enough. :)

(594) Possibly The Sharp Edge of Memory by Titania522 - thanks @eggplant8

595. lettrsto said to everlarkficquestions:hi guys!! i can't remember for shit the name of this one shot, i guess it was written for promptsinpanem, where katniss dates gale, but haymitch hates his guts so k&g make a deal w peeta so katniss fake dates peeta while she's actually dating gale behind haymitch's back. can you guys give some help, pretty please? does it ring any light? thank you!!!!

(595)  FOUND by the asker!  Yours And Mine by Andthisisthewonder

596. jonerys-everlark said to everlarkficquestions:I remember a fanfic where Katniss and Peeta were in the 74th games when Katniss learns that Peeta is with the Careers, she remembers him telling her something (I think) but I know that she then waits until they are gone, and says to the audience something to the effect of , “I have something to say... he has not betrayed me, he is protecting me, as to his confession in the interview, I’m still trying to decide how I feel about it” or something like that, basically, she knows he is on her side an

Do any of these fics ring a bell? Please let us know!