#my love hate relationship w/ my body & face is THRIVING

[lostghoulie]

jumping head first into a tub of acid will cure all my problems :)) fr fr

[valzhanginator]

HOO CHARACTERS BIG THREE PLACEMENTS

~by an aspiring astrologer♡

pls keep in mind that these are my personal opinions, if you don't agree with these that's completely okay. this is based on my experience and knowledge not their canon birthdays. sun sign is our ego, moon sign is our emotions and relationship with our mother and rising sign is our physical appereance and how people perceive us at first glance.hope you enjoy!!`

-percy- leo sun cancer moon leo rising

sun: confident but insecure at the same time, extremely stubborn

moon: very good mother figure, mood depends on other people or the vibes, introvert but thrives with friends, hides feelings a lot

rising: charming presence, luscious hair, captivating eyes, gets attention without even asking

-annabeth- virgo sun aries moon cap rising

sun: needs structure and reliability in life, plans everything 5 years in advence bc "just incase", very understanding to others but too hard on herself

moon: dominant mother figure, resentment towards mother, good at making new connections, needs physical outlets for anger, jealous in love

rising: mature and reserved look, serious case of resting b face, doesn't realize she looks scary and gets offended when pointed out

-hazel- aqua sun scorpio moon aqua rising

sun: stands out and good with people but not very social

moon: very traumatic childhood/parent, very observant, hates being lied to or being deceived

rising: you'll notice her immidiately bc she looks like she doesn't belong, very much alien energy, ppl will say something's "off" about her but can never pinpoint what it is

-leo- sagitarius sun pisces moon gemini rising

sun: very fun, adventurous and energetic,

moon: really funny and good with words, prone to romanticizing toxicity or his pain, needs to feel loved to thrive, hard to really get to know him very good at acting/pretending

rising: fun and charming demeanor, amazing smile, long limbs short torso, really funky and uniqe sense of style

-frank- taurus sun taurus moon cancer rising

sun: extremely chill, avaoids drama like the plague, very reliable, enjoys luxury and finer things in life

moon: overbearing and overprotecting female figures, bullying due to body image in early ages, seeks comfort

rising: moon-like features, very emotionally expressive face, look like you can trust them w your social security number

jason- cap sun sag moon cap rising

sun: likes being in control but very fun once you get to know him

moon: feels better living abroad or with different cultures, seems opinionated and tough but is actually really understanding, attached to his hobbies, often misunderstood

rising: angular and sharp features, rbf, looks like has his life together but crumbling inside, hard to open up but funniest person once opened up

-piper- libra sun gemini moon libra rising

sun: very indecisive, witty and inteligent, has her way with words, flitrs without even meaning to

moon: can socialize with many different types of groups, too many thoughts, switches between shy and straightforward, nervous inside, very witty

rising: doll-like features, really pretty and sensual, infectious laugh, just overall really pretty and feminine looking, often feels unsure and confused

-nico- aqua sun scorpio moon scorpio rising

sun: doesn't really fit in, reads people really well

moon: same as hazel, also very secretive and private, sonetimes too perceptive or obsessive

rising: very intense eyes, mysterious and powerful presence, his mystery either draws people in wanting to know more or scares them away

-calypso- leo sun leo moon taurus rising

sun: basically the same with percy perfect hair, charming eyes except she DEMANDS attention and rest assured she WILL get it, wants to be in control of everything in her life and extremely stubborn w it, gets really dissapointed when thing don't turn out as she excepted

moon: needs to feel attractive and productive to thrive, prone to trust issues, clingy but won't show it

rising: looks best with no or minimal makeup, think brooke shields and gigi hadid love child, has a very nature-y type of look -idk if that makes sense-

-reyna- aries sun capricorn moon aries rising

sun: values her friendships deeply, very initiative, go big or go home, doesn't stand any bs

moon: had to grow up fast, too individualistic, the wounded healer, sensitive but hates seeking comfort, very creative and initiative

rising: angular and sharp features, athletic build, bold and confident presence

[elriell]

Two Mates? Elriel & (El)ucien Theory.

These are just a few of my thoughts compiled together regarding having two mates, the signs and breadcrumbs Sarah has incorporated. If you know me you know am a Lucien fan so this is nothing hateful towards him and we will be looking at his place within it all as well, that being said this will have bond rejection/misalignment talk so if that is not your cup of tea I understand and you can skip this! As always I would love to hear everyones thoughts so long as we are all respectful ♡

Let's start by discussing the where the two ships align and parallel mates behaviour, and then we will discuss where their arc's veer from each other...

“TOUCH HER, SMELL HER, TASTE HER– THE INSTINCTS WERE A RUNNING RIVER.” (Lucien in ACOWAR about the mating bond.)

“Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture.”

“Azriel's fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck.”

“They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. ”

“He prayed she didn't peer down. Prayed she didn't understand the shift in his scent. ”

“Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. ”

“He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like.”

“This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it.  

“Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. ”

Now you can easily parallel this to any of SJM's mates, like Feysand or Nessian. But for the sake of brevity I will leave you with the original link to the wonderful @suelky post where it was pointed out w/ Feysand quotes as well. [source]

Also "The instincts were a running river.” sounds a little like “Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea."

The Bonus POV has a lot of typical "Mates" behaviours manifesting between Elain and Azriel, and it would make sense this would be a extreme POV shift as we have never been inside either of their heads before so we were bound to have a major learning curve, especially with Az who is so reserved with his emotions.

“But Lucien’s attention went right to the hallway toward the back, his nostrils flaring as he scented Elain’s direction. And who she’d gone with. A low snarl slipped out of him—”

“So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck  someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her."  Azriel snarled softly.”

There are countless main trio parallels but most of you are aware of which one is my favourite...

“Knelt on those stars and mountains inked on his knees. He would bow for no one and nothing— But his mate. His equal.”

“Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it.”

"Every instinct in his body came roaring to the surface, so violent he had to choke them with a brutal grip or else he'd find himself on his knees, begging her for touch, for anything."

And on to where they go their separate ways from a textual perspective;

"Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.”

“Rhys kissed the hollow of my collarbone, and my core went utterly molten. “My brave, bold, brilliant mate.”

“You can give everyone that I Will Slay My Enemies look—which is my favorite look, by the way. You can keep that sharpness I like so much, that boldness and fearlessness. I don’t want you to ever lose those things, to cage yourself.”

“And he had the nerve once his powers were back to shove me into a cage. The nerve to say I was no longer useful; I was to be cloistered for his peace of mind.”

“Remember that you are a wolf. And you cannot be caged.” He kissed my brow one more time, my blood thrumming and boiling in me, howling to draw blood.”

I think finding freedom and power from within is something that the books have emphasized through Feysand and Nessian's journey's. Which is so interesting considering Lucien and Elain are both feeling tied to each other, as if in a cage of sorts.

Elain herself has been stuffed in to a box of other peoples making throughout most of the series, it quite prevalent she might feel caged by their opinions of who she is.

"Maybe she was never given a chance to be that way." I whipped my head towards him. "You think I stifle her?" Rhys held up his hands. "Not you alone."

“Nesta had been right. It was like a prison, this place.” [Graysen's Manor]

“Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

“She ignored me, and saw Elain as barely more than a doll to dress up, but Nesta was hers. Our mother made sure we knew it. Or she just cared so little what we thought or did that she didn’t bother to hide it from us.”

And as for Lucien I think his duty and honour to her is what is caging him;

“I can’t stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes. I can’t stand to be in this court and have your mate pay for the very clothes on my back.”

“Why are you here?” Cassian asked, unable to help the sharpness. “Where’s Elain?”

“I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words dripped with discomfort.”

“Why?” Not a flicker of emotion. “He is Elain’s mate.”

I waited. “It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him.”

Godbless Azriel for respecting Elain's privacy.

I think we would see/understand a lot more if we got a chance inside their heads but the one time we did see Lucien's POV we got a good glimpse at how he feels about his situation with Elain and it wasn't particularly positive and reminded me of Rhy's parents.

"She’d seen him not as a High Lord’s seventh son, but as a male. Had loved him without question, without hesitation. She had chosen him. Elain had been … thrown at him.”

“...to remember that she picked it. Picked me. That it’s not like my parents, shoved together.”

Not using the word cage per say but the implication isn't much better.

“You know them better than I do. But I will say that Lucien is loyal—fiercely so.”

“So is Azriel.”

I don't think the debate is really whether Lucien is deserving of her, or even Azriel for that matter, it is a question of who is actually right for her and vice-versa, who has she been consistently written to thrive and smile alongside. And that is Azriel.

Why does Sarah constantly put Azriel in the picture, from day DOT. She was screaming "hey look Azriel is here, and they would work magically together"

“And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.” I smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together.”

There are several instances/evens that occur throughout the series that set both Elucien and Elriel's relationships apart, and I think it is highly intentional on Sarah's part...

“I said quietly, “We will get her back.” But Lucien was watching me warily. Too warily.”

“From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

Or we can look at both Solstice's and the clear differences in how their relationships are growing, and also how well one and other know each other.

“Tell me when you knew,” he demanded, his knee pressing into mine. “That Rhysand was your mate. Tell me when you stopped loving Tamlin and started loving him instead.”

“He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option  of leaving if it became too much.  Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that.”

&

“I want to see her. Just once. Just—to know.” “To know what?” He hitched my damp cloak higher around us. “If she is worth fighting for.”

“Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.” Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.”

GIFTS REFLECTING THEIR RELATIONSHIP MILE MARKS

“Az ran a hand through his dark hair. “Are we …” Unusual for him to stumble with words. “Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?”

“I handed Elain the small box with her name on it. Her smile faded as she opened it. “Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.”

“Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way.” “And torn up by thorns,” I mused,”

“I didn’t dare mention that if she had been wearing the enchanted gloves Lucien had gotten her last Solstice, nothing would have pierced them at all.”

“He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

Not only is she visibly uninterested which is painful to watch, it also highlights how little he knows about her. SJM is creating a visible gap in their dynamic.

“The golden necklace seemed ordinary -- its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. “It's beautiful," she whispered, lifting it from the box. ”

“My Nesta. Elain shall wed for love and beauty, but you, my cunning little queen … You shall wed for conquest.”

“I painted flowers for Elain on her drawer,” I said, sawing and sawing. “Little roses and begonias and irises. And for Nesta … ”

“She plucked another figurine from the mantel: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. “He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.”

“Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

“I led her into the sitting room, where Cassian had a bottle of amber-colored liquor in each hand, Azriel was already rubbing his temples,”

“She hadn't bought her mate a present. But she'd gotten Azriel one last year -- a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he’d slept there.”

“Azriel unwrapped the box, glancing at the card that merely said, You might find these useful at the House these days, and then opened the lid.  Two small, bean-shaped fabric blobs lay within. Elain murmured, "You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you...”

See yet again a very thoughtful and funny gift on her part. Now at it's core even just simply comparing their general reactions says a lot about the story Sarah is putting forward.

"Silence again. Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous.”

“He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. "No wonder you didn't want me to open it in front of everyone."  

Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. "Nesta wouldn't appreciate the joke.”

“Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly."

"Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

“She hadn't bought her mate a present. "

The writing is nothing if not clear about the discomfort both Lucien and Elain feel in regards to each other, though they lay under different reasons.

We are given multiple incidents in which we are told about how mating bonds are not perfect and we are given clear examples of it repeatedly, about woman enduring out of obligation, and do not forget this is heavily discussed literally in regards to Elain and her circumstances.

“She’d been revealed as his mate, and endured the miserable union mostly from gratitude for her unharmed wings.”

“You said your mother and father were wrong for each other; Tamlin said his own parents were wrong for each other.” I peeled off my dressing robe. “So it can’t be a perfect system of matching. "

“She glowed with good health. Except … Her brown eyes were wary. Usually, that look was reserved for Lucien. The male was definitely in the family room,”

“Elain had already departed with Feyre, claiming she had to be up with the dawn to tend to an elderly faerie’s garden. Cassian didn’t exactly know why he suspected this wasn’t true. There had been some tightness in Elain’s face as she’d said it. Normally when she made such excuses, Lucien was around,”

“Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.”

VS

“That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this … I think the world needs more gardens.”

“Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room.”

What if ”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

“Can you truly fly?” He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, “Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.” “That’s very beautiful,” she said. “Is it not—frightening, though? To fly so high?”

“ I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.”

“This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.”

“Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.”

The romantic subtext is there and has been for quite some time, they prove it book after book when SJM continues to grow their bond and nurture it whilst breaking her connection with Lucien further apart, and for what reason?

“A mating bond can be rejected,” Rhys said mildly, eyes flickering in the mirror as he drank in every inch of bare skin I had on display. “There is choice. And sometimes, yes—the bond picks poorly. Sometimes, the bond is nothing more than some… preordained guesswork at who will provide the strongest offspring. At its basest level, it’s perhaps only that. Some natural function, not an indication of true, paired souls.”

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” [...]

“I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?” Rhys straightened his lapels before plucking an invisible piece of lint from them. “Fate, the Mother, the Cauldron’s swirling eddies …”

“What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

“Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them.”

“The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.”

It is remarkably interesting to me that we are told about what Rhys suspects/believes is responsible for mating bonds, paralleled alongside Azriel questioning it all, I also think it is abundantly clear from his answer to Feyre he doesn't truly know for sure.

We also have several lines of dialogue talking about the sisters and fate, their reason for entering the IC's life. Not only that but we get a glimpse at Azriel's personality and how despite the world (Rhys and the mating bond in general) telling him to despair, he still found it in him to have hope the Cauldron could be wrong.

This is so significant, and she has carefully woven his character throughout the series to make this incredibly plausible.

“If I had not met a shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make, not the one you are born into, that matters. I would not have known what it is to truly hope, even when the world tells you to despair.”

“And then he said to my sisters, “We have not known each other for long. But I have to believe that you were brought here, into our family, for a reason, too. And maybe today we’ll find out why.”

“All three sisters blessed by fate and gifted with powers to match your own.”

“Even after the bond is rejected, they see her as belonging to them. Sometimes they return to challenge the male she chooses for herself. Sometimes it ends in death. It is savage, and it is ugly, and it mercifully does not happen often, but …”

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you're pursuing her, he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including invoking the Blood Duel.”

As you can see even back in ACOWAR she was weaving the web for Elriel's journey and an upcoming Blood Duel/The threat of one.

“Many mated pairs will try to make it work, believing the Cauldron selected them for a reason. Only years later will they realize that perhaps the pairing was not ideal in spirit.”

I think it is pretty clear from all the quotes above that Lucien is no her ideal spirit and vice-versa to be frank when you put it side by side his budding relationship with Vassa or hers with Azriel they are clearly very different.

“On the continent, there are territories that believe the females literally belong to their mate. But not here. Elain would have our full protection if she rejects the bond.”

“Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut.  Offer and permission.  He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers. ”

Elain is choosing Azriel, choosing their bond over the one assigned to her time and time again... Back to mating bonds;

“The ancient healer jerked her chin toward Lucien. “See what he can do. If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate.”

“The mating bond. It is a bridge between souls.”

"She pointed at Lucien as she saw herself out. “Try sitting down with her. Just talking—sensing. See what you pick up. But don’t push.”

“Can you hear mine?” He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.”

Her too-thin shoulders seemed to curve inward. “No one ever does. No one ever looked—not really.”

"Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body. And without a word, he winnowed away. Mor watched the space where he’d been standing long after he was gone.”

“Should we—does she need …?” “She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien.

Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

“It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.”

“But Azriel nodded. “You knew,” he said to Elain. “About the young queen turning into a crone.” Elain blinked and blinked, eyes clearing again. As if the understanding, our understanding … it freed her from whatever murky realm she’d been in.”

Are you telling me that Madja saying a mate would know, would sense whatever is going on with her, and as it turns out Azriel was the one to sense and uncover it is solely what, a coincidence? Also to emphasize what she said about "A bridge between souls..." Where else have we heard that terminology? The Truth-Teller scene.

“I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.”

Not to mention this scene is simply iconic for a multitude of reasons, how poetic Feyre describes them, the clear soulmates/ying-yang subtext and him giving her something he has given no other but that's another story.

Azriel has also been displaying some very protective fiercely so mating vibes towards her,

“Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened. ”

“Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. “You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him.”

“Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.”

“Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea. “Where did Lucien go.”

I think there are some mixed opinions on Lucien and whether he deserves her (and vice-versa in this fandom) but I don't think that is what this comes down too, they are both handling it in the way they think best/following their instincts.

Lucien is hurting throughout this process as well, but I think ultimately it is honor and loyalty binding him to her not any genuine emotion for her as a human being fae. I think realising they are not meant for each other and supporting each other developing true bonds with other people will be their journey. And it would be a completely fresh and new view of a mating bond.

Smaller pieces of dialogue that need little explaining and a rather oddly specific choice of words in the latest book that is meant to set up the next one in the series:

“You’d know if she’d died,” Azriel said, pausing his work and looking up at Cassian. He tapped his brother’s chest with a scarred hand. “Right here—you’d know, Cass.”

“Elain and Feyre—that was the new status of things. The bond Elain had chosen.”

"I'd never do such a thing. you must be thinking of your other mate."

Honestly? At this rate I have no doubt Elriel are endgame and everything within canon text spells that out but I truly believe he will be her second mate/the will form a bond via some circumstance that shall arise due to these little hints.

I would love to hear your thoughts and/or additions because I by all means didn't do a massive deep dive and there are most likely tons more examples to add but I didn't want it to become overwhelming to read!

Hope everyone has a spectacular and magical evening <3

[hansolmates]

17 going on 27

summary; one second, you’re sobbing at prom because the most popular guy in school dumps you due to your relationship being a little prank to break your heart. the next? you’re a creative editor at Ego, the hottest young adult fashion magazine. as you try to figure out what’s the deal with this sudden time skip into adulthood, you come across relationships and friendships that are made to be cherished and made to be broken. pairing; photographer!jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; fluff, crack, future enemies to lovers, teenage and adulthood angst, time skips from high school!au to late twenties!au, 13 going on 30!au, all your romantic movie tropes come to life! a really big mess honestly, various movie and music references, mentions of sex, use of alcohol, everyone give jin and jimin a big ol hug, language, a surprise guest from the queen of england w/c; 22.6k a/n; it’s that time of the year baby! the time of the year where i binge watch the good ol’ early 2000s romcoms that make absolutely no sense! a huge thank u to @eerieedits​ for making this beautiful banner. vivi got the whole delia’s/claire’s vibe down to a t! 

if you enjoy this fic pls consider giving it a like and a share✨✨✨

March 19th, 2011

Thirty, flirty, and thriving!

You finger the dog-eared magazine, last month’s issue of a shoddy fashion magazine that featured top actress Jennifer Garner on the front cover. Her caramel brown highlights practically glow on the page, blown out and beautiful. You suppress a sigh, you long to be the radiant young woman on the cover. The headline is glittery, sparkly and just begging for attention. 

Swiping a hand through the pages, your eyes are crowded with over-stimulation. Colorful models dressed up in the latest designs, Chanel and Burberry suits you can only dream of, and happy women at the prime of their lives. 

Twenty-seven and in Heaven! You smile wryly at the cheesy rhyme that headlines the following pages, but nevertheless the happy model on the spread does indeed look like they’re in heaven. 

Sure, you’re no shrinking violet. Heck, you don’t even consider yourself painfully average. You may not be on the traditional spectrum of popularity in high school, but you get around and have a wonderful best friend and an even better boyfriend. However given the social classes that preside, you do get those moments where you second guess your life’s position. Good thing high school has an expiration date, and you’re close to the end.  

“Baby Bun, what are you doing?” the magazine is snatched from your grasp, thrown on the table without a care in the world. Jennifer Garner’s hydro-whitened smile gleams tauntingly at you, “reading that junk is gonna mess with your head.” 

Your boyfriend returns from his final suit fitting, his outfit for tonight all pressed and ready to go. He pouts at you, pulling you up by the hand to lead you out of the Men’s Warehouse. Jeon Jungkook. Captain of the lacrosse team, flying by high school with a sports scholarship already in the bag. Eats up attention like plants soak up the sun. Secretly loves taking photographs of his dog and watching Netflix animes at your house. 

“Aren’t you excited for prom?” 

“Excited to listen to LMFAO’s Party Rock Anthem on repeat?” you guaff, “as if.” 

He pinches your arm lightly, “You also forget that we’re gonna tear up the floor to Nicki Minaj’s Superbass.” 

You shrug listlessly, crunching the white plastic closer to your body. 

Before you can suck all the air out of the garment bag, Jungkook carefully extracts it from your grasp, easily holding it between his one arm so he can thread his other hand through yours. “I am excited! It’s just that… Jimin’s not gonna be there and we’re sitting with the Yearbook committee.”

Looking down at the floor you extract your hand from his, slipping into his parent’s Honda Civic. The yearbook committee, meaning you’d be sitting at a table with head editor Jennie and her group of friends. Friends that are popular and pretty, just like Jungkook. 

Jimin is currently on a flight back from Korea due to a family funeral, therefore leaving a seat empty at your prom table. It was only seat that you cared about, other than Jungkook’s. It’s no one’s fault and Jimin of course is doubly upset to miss prom, but without your best friend you’re not sure if you can survive the night. 

One of the few secrets you keep from Jungkook is the fact that Jennie and you aren’t exactly friendly to each other. You don’t know why, maybe it’s the fact that you don’t run the in same friend group or you always win the debate in Civics class, but Jennie clearly expresses her dislike for you as easily as she expresses her love for Jungkook. 

Which makes you incredibly insecure, but Jennie and Jungkook have been friends for longer than you and him have been together, who are you to intervene? 

Jungkook slips in the driver’s seat, but not before pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. 

Right. You’re Jungkook’s girlfriend, and that should matter more than his friendship with Jennie. 

But the smell of his freshly cleaned lacrosse jersey, his duffle bag overflowing with protein powder and unfinished assignments remind you that you have your world and he has his. A conversation about your insecurities could wait until tomorrow. 

“When’s Jimin’s flight?” Jungkook asks, one hand on the steering wheel and the other tapping on your thigh as he pulls out. 

“He’ll be back two hours into the dance,” you report, albeit glumly as you rest your head against the cool window. 

“That sucks,” Jungkook replies, a bit of sadness in his tone, “he has to miss out on his prom night.” 

You shrug, “Prom isn’t everything, it’s about the people you spend it with.” 

“Well then,” he squeezes your thigh, “I’m glad I get to spend it with you.” 

You only have a few hours to get ready until you meet Jungkook at his house for pictures, so when you get dropped off, you tell him that he doesn’t have to get out of the car to escort you into your home. But Jungkook is insistent, putting the car in park and getting out your dress for you with such delicacy that you’re positively sure there’s no wrinkles in the fabric. Taking the dress from his grasp you wish him goodbye and a promise to meet each other later. 

“Wait,” Jungkook is biting his lip, unable to let go of your hand even though you’re already up the stairs. You’re looking down at him, a rarity considering his tall frame. 

“What’s wrong, Kook?” 

“Uh, I was just thinking,” he’s scratching the back of his head, and you soften. The little quirk he has is a sign of insecurity, being the star player Jungkook is forced to exude confidence to a fault. “Maybe, we could skip the prom thing? You said so yourself that prom is about the people you spend it with.” 

Your eyes widen, clutching your dress tighter. “What? Jungkook, that’s ridiculous. Between the both of us we’ve spent a lot of money on the clothes and the tickets.” 

“Right,” he forces a laugh, and you put a hand on your hip to think it out but you can’t quite place what’s going on. “Sorry Bun, I just know how the finale of our favorite anime airs tonight.” 

“You’re so silly,” you chastise, reaching down to pinch his cheek. Normally he hates it, but you can’t help but melt when he leans into your touch a little more. “C’mon, I know suits are stuffy and stuff, but let’s just do this high school rite of passage thing. Afterwards we can go to McDonalds or something and watch the recording.” 

“You’re right,” his face is red, “what was I thinking? Can’t miss out on a night to see my beautiful girlfriend all dressed up.” 

He squeezes your hand one last time, a little too tight for comfort. With a half smile he waves, going into his car and driving off. 

You don’t have time to dwell on his weirdness (and trust when you say that Jungkook is plenty weird and it astounds you how the rest of your class has no idea) so you fly up to your room to get your hair and makeup ready. Your parents greet you excitedly along the way, telling you there’s a package left for you on your vanity.

It’s a plain cardboard box, already cut and unwrapped by your parents for convenience. The address shows it came from Korea, proudly displaying the name of your best friend on the return address. Inside is a beautiful compact, made of brushed gold and pink metal. The makeup inside is a loose glitter from a brand that you don’t recognize, but since it’s a gift from Jimin, you trust his taste. 

I have to be at prom somehow, Jimin’s note on the box reads, don’t overthink and have fun! 

You snort, reading the sticky note over and over in Jimin’s voice. Looking over the shade, you can’t help but grimace at the cliché name. Wishing Dust. The color is a little too white and silvery for your taste, but you’ll wear it in honor of Jimin. 

The dress, the hair, the makeup all come together little by little. You like the ritual of getting ready, building yourself up to the highest order and feeling closer and closer to the beautiful women in magazines. Surprisingly, your favorite part of getting ready is applying the glitter that Jimin gifted you. The puff enclosed is cloud soft, and surprisingly the color doesn’t look too ashen on your skin. The glitter sinks into your skin like a soft butter, accentuating your collarbones and cheeks as if you are glowing from within. 

You smile at yourself in the mirror. A little part of you wishes you could look like this everyday. You wish you could always look and feel this confident, and act mature and graceful. 

A buzzing on your desk stops your wishful thinking, and you frown at the message that lights up your phone. 

Jungkook: sorry bun, but the civic finally broke down and its on its way to car heaven. Could we meet at the party hall instead? We can take pictures there, jennie mentioned yearbook hired a photographer

Disheartened, you send a quick text back saying it’s fine. Any more explanation on your feelings would reveal your disappointment. You don’t know how you’re going to tell your parents that they won’t be taking pictures with your boyfriend anytime soon. So you suck it in and take solo pictures for your parents and some group selfies. This is just one bump in the night, the rest of it should be smooth sailing. 

But when your parents drop you off at the venue your eyes first land on a beat up Honda Civic. You’re pretty sure car heaven isn’t at the prom. 

The rest of your entrance is a blur as you go through every corner of the venue, searching for your boyfriend. You’re clutching his matching flower in your hand, a beautiful red rose with baby’s breath circling around it, all clutched together in a black silk ribbon. You wonder what kind of flower he bought you. 

But it’s nearly impossible to find him. Not at the photobooth, the appetizer buffet, or in the lobby. It’s not until you’re sweating at the brow and nearing the corner of the venue that you do find him.

Lips locked, kissing Jennie. 

The plastic encasing Jungkook’s boutonniere drops, clanging to the ground. 

Whispers of you circle the air, meeting your ears and confirming all your insecurities. 

“Oh my god, I knew Jungkook was cheating on her!” 

“Wow, how pathetic. She ran all the way to prom alone to see this?” 

“I thought his girlfriend was a smart girl. How did she not know that their relationship was a bet all along?” 

Jungkook and Jennie are on the balcony, looking picture perfect in matching formal attire and flowers. The sun is setting, not taking its time as it sinks deeper and deeper into the horizon. The sky darkens and the air is chilly, much like your heart. 

Jungkook's eyes are wide and in shock as he watches you from the balcony, but Jennie’s are sharp and satisfied. Satisfied, as if the whole thing had been orchestrated. 

While you can’t hear him because he’s so far away, you can see the ghost of your name on his lips. Your ears are ringing, numb to the laughter of the students watching and the pity that others are throwing at you. You feel dumb. You feel like throwing up. In a bout of anger your heel digs into the plastic of the boutonniere, crushing the innocent rose in its clear coffin. 

You don’t make it far out the door when one of your favorite teachers snatches you in concern. 

“Honey, any further and you’ll be running on the highway," Mrs. Song jokes, pulling you away from the entrance. 

You feel like a newborn deer in your heels and incredibly heavy in your dress as Mrs. Song drags you over to a staff bathroom. It's far, far away from the actual party. Mrs. Song doesn't say anything, and just gives you a sad smile as she let's you go into the single stall alone. 

Sitting on the toilet and not giving a care that your dress is probably getting soiled, you bury your face in your hands and finally let the tears flow. Fat, frustrated tears roll down your cheeks without a care in the world. 

"Mrs. Song please, I need to get in there." 

"Now Jungkook, I think you've done enough for today. Go back to the party and don't worry about it." 

You can imagine Jungkook now, he hated it when people told him not to worry.  It only made him more annoyed, fists probably clenched under his perfectly tailored suit and his cute teeth uncharacteristically gritted. He cared to a fault, at least you thought he did. He ruined your night, he made you feel so dumb and silly.

But the longer you stayed in the dim bathroom, you could care less. Thank goodness for Mrs. Song guarding the door. Why would he bother to follow you? It turns out all your insecurities are not in vain, and that you’ve been ignoring a gut feeling you’ve mistaken for your lack of trust. You shouldn’t have trusted Jungkook. You shouldn’t have been so tolerable of Jennie. 

Goodness, you feel so stupid. You hope that there are other bathrooms for staff to use, because you want to coop yourself in here until the last dance. Mascara drips on your sleeves, your hands swiping at your cheeks to stop any tears from staining your dress even further. 

The more you hear Jungkook and Mrs. Song argue, the more you want to disappear. You bury yourself on the floor, uncaring of how dirty the tiles are. Glitter smears across your cheeks and sticks to your hands, and you no longer feel like the thriving young adult you once felt when you walked out the door this evening.

All you can do is cry and pray you can get through the night. And the next day, and the rest of senior year. You don’t want to see Jungkook or Jennie until graduation, when they walk out of the door and permanently out of your life. You wish you could skip the rest of the semester, and fastforward to the life you’ve carved for yourself in your dreams since freshman year. You wish you could be like the woman on the magazine, who has her whole life put together. To be a woman who holds all the confidence in the world and doesn’t have to worry about stupid men. 

Just like the cover. Thirty, flirty and thriving. Just like the models in the magazines. Twenty-seven and in heaven. 

Just once, do you want to taste the feeling of having life on your side. 

March 20st, 2021

Your first thought is that you feel disgusting. 

Of course, falling asleep in a random bathroom stall will make you feel those things. Your dress clinging uncomfortably to your sweating form, lulled to the sounds of Mrs. Song’s temperamental voice and Jungkook’s arguing. 

But for some reason it’s a different kind of disgusting. The feeling is rotting in your throat, as if there’s a tang stuck to the roof of your mouth. You also feel impossibly dehydrated, as if you’ve run a marathon. And for some reason you’re sore? Especially in the crotch, and you don’t remember experiencing any cramps yesterday. 

Your hands come to your body, and instead of feeling tulle and taffeta your hands are greeted with a silky black negligee that hangs across your waist. Panic stings in your bones like a stroke of lightning. 

Eyes snapping open, your breath catches in your throat when you take in the room. You’re on a large plush creme couch, large enough to be a bed. The organza curtains are a shade of bottle green and are opened slightly to let the morning sun in. From your view it seems like this is the top floor of the complex, overlooking the city horizon. 

You feel the covers shift slightly, and you realize there’s a naked man sleeping next to you. You scream. 

The man screams back with an even higher pitch, falling off the couch and clutching the sheets like a lifeline. “What?” he panics, eyes darting back and forth across the room like he’s on a reality television show. “What the fuck? Is there something on my face! Why are you screaming so early!” 

The fact that he’s an adult man and you’re seventeen is even more terrifying, and you feel absolutely naked despite the fact that you’re nearly clothed. But what confuses you more is that this man looks awfully familiar. 

Familiar in the sense that you’ve seen him in one too many television sitcoms to count. This man in front of you looks like Kim Seokjin, the protagonist of your favorite television show: Sky City. He has the same plump lips and pretty face, only aged up. But last time you checked on Soompi, Seokjin is supposed to be twenty years old and filming the next season in New Zealand. Arguably he could be his older brother, but he never acted and you don’t think he’d be the spitting image. 

“Seokjin?” you taste the name on your tongue, “Kim Seokjin?” 

Seokjin relaxes considerably, and he finds it appropriate to return to the couch, placing a tentative hand on your thigh. “Right, were you really that drunk? You got my name right, but it seems that you’ve forgotten that the only name you called me last night was sex god…” 

His plush lips meet the ends of your earlobe, and you squeal at the strange sensation. 

You’ve had sex with this man and you can’t even remember it? Furthermore how can a peasant like you be in contact with a celebrity? What on earth happened last night? Shouldn’t you be calling the police or panicking more? Where’s the pepper spray and sharp knives where you need them? You can’t even find it in you to find a sharp weapon at your once cherished-idol, who’s apparently unfazed and drinking in your body like he has a taste of it every night. 

“What’s the date?” you push him away, looking around for any signs of where you are and how you ended up here. 

“It’s the first day of spring,” Seokjin says easily, stretching out on the couch. “I wonder when the cherry blossoms will bloom. Should we have a picnic with Bogum?” 

“Where’s my phone, I can’t find my phone!” 

Seokjin doesn’t bat an eye as he digs through the couch, pulling something from under him. He waves it in front of your face. “That’s not my phone,” you deadpan. 

“Okay I guess you were actually that drunk,” Seokjin rolls his eyes, forcing the large piece of plastic and metal on your palm. “When you went to the bathroom last night you dropped your old phone in the toilet. We picked up a new one on the way to the next bar. Good thing the new Samsung dropped last month!” 

Since when are phones this large? You carry the strange weight in your hands, confused as to why Seokjin thinks this is your phone. You own a beat up 2G that barely gets any reception in the school basement. But when you turn it on, the screen recognizes your face immediately and unlocks. Wow, since when do cell phones do face recognition? 

A selfie of you and Seokjin appears on the homescreen, looking totally happy. 

Is that you? 

No longer do you have acne lining your brows, or uneven skin texture. Your smile is high and prominent. Your visage is clean and done with minimal makeup, highlighting your beauty. 

The date flickers on the top of the screen. March 20th, 2021: 7:42AM.

You scream again. Seokjin screams again for the heck of it. 

“How did this happen!” you shriek, dropping your phone to step up to the window. You bask in your reflection, mildly impressed and even more so afraid of what’s in front of you. Your body has filled out like an adult, and considering it’s ten years into the future, other things have filled out as well. Experimentally, your hands go out to your chest, squeezing. Yep, those knockers were not there the last time you checked. 

“Well, you came back from work completely drained from a shoot and I just finished filming my Everyday Skincare Routine video with Vogue,” Seokjin comes up to you, blanket tied around his waist like a long towel. “We met at our usual bar and do what we usually do when we’re both stressed: bang it out.” 

You watch as Seokjin’s hands snake around your slick silk, hugging you from behind like it’s second nature. “Is this a dream?” you ask yourself, because it’s not unlikely that you’ve had a sex dream with Seokjin and this is the aftermath dream. 

“Nope,” you yelp when Seokjin pinches your butt, hard. It stings. “This is real life, baby.” 

“Are we dating?” 

You feel Seokjin’s grip tense, and he shoves your innocent question away with a coarse laugh. “You know both you and me don’t do serious relationships. It’s why we work so well together, you know that.” 

“Right,” you reply softly. That doesn’t sound like you at all, and it scares you considerably. 

“So, I gotta go,” you panic when he lets go and starts searching around for his clothes. Your face heats up at Seokjin’s perky ass staring back at you, and your eyes dart to a random spot in the corner. “I got a green meeting with Ellen, and lord knows I don’t wanna face her wrath if I’m late.” 

In seconds he’s fully clothed in a plain shirt and jeans, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Call me beep me, if you wanna reach me,” he sings, throwing a wave over his shoulder as he leaves you in the large apartment. 

The door slams with a hard smack and that’s when you collapse on the couch that feels foreign and strange, breaking into tears. 

The next time you wake up, it’s the next day. It’s a glaringly bright Sunday and for whatever reason you’re still in this aged-up body. Maybe time travel makes the body really tired. This isn’t a dream. You panic for the second time, walking back and forth around the loft that’s apparently yours. It seems like it’s yours, because the bills that linger on the coffee table have your name and the pictures in the one bedroom are of you and your family. 

But the refrigerator in the nook is digital and has fancy ice settings, something you could never imagine owning. Your closet is filled with brand named suits, and with every designer label you pass you mentally rack up the total of just one section. It’s enough to pay for your college tuition if your first choice accepts you. 

Wait. You’re apparently twenty-seven, college is long gone. 

Lying in your bed feels better, surrounded by familiar pictures of your cousins and family. Your favorite snacks are tucked with care in your nightstand, and it makes you feel a tiny bit better knowing that your favorite chocolate and chips will never change. 

What happened in the past ten years? Why don’t you remember anything and are you entirely sure this isn’t some strange fever dream? 

Time ticks slowly as you spend the afternoon, glued to your phone. It’s a 25 Note+ and it’s filled with multiple doohickeys and settings that make you feel technologically inept. You never thought you were bad with technology, but clearly these phones have a learning curve attached to them. 

You try to call your family, but according to the voicemail left they’re on a Disney cruise that you paid for. Your heart aches at the excited voice of your parents. Why are they on a vacation without you? 

The next thing you aim for is finding Jimin’s contact. According to Google Maps, you’re not far from your hometown and you know that Jimin’s always wanted to move to the city so he must be nearby. To your chagrin, his name isn’t on your contact list. Strange, he’s always number two on speed dial. 

Clicking on the internet browser, you go to the online Whitepages and search up Park Jimin. There may be a million ones, but maybe you could get a lead. When a picture and an address show up easily with one swipe, you scoff. The internet has no room for privacy ten years later, huh? 

The most casual thing you own in your closet is a Free People dress, reaching mid-calf with flowing bell sleeves. Heck, you couldn’t even find a single pair of jeans. You don’t care however, as you swipe your keys from the counter (you gape, you own a Tesla?) and race down to the parking garage. 

Jimin’s apartment is on the other side of the city. It’s strange, transitioning from high rises and shiny windows to quaint brick walls and lived-in patio spaces. You feel like it’s a race against time as you make it all the way to his room, knocking feverishly on the mahogany red door. 

“What? Who is it?” it’s clear that his room is cheap, the walls thin as you hear his voice shuffle throughout the room. Why are you shaking? It’s just your best friend. 

The door swings open and you and Jimin drink each other in. His baby fat has melted from his cheeks, revealing a handsome and charming jawline. His hair is no longer a natural black, but has been dyed to a sandy blond that suits his tan. His eyes, wide in surprise, are still a soft brown but not as bright as when he was seventeen. 

“Jimin,” your third round of tears hits you like a truck at the sight of your best friend, and you immediately run into his arms. 

But he doesn’t hug you back immediately. In fact, he doesn’t know what to do at all. Your name rolls off his lips like he’s seen a ghost. 

You pull away, as if you are burned. You flinch at the way Jimin regards you. “Is something wrong?” 

“I don’t know,” he looks at you, crossing his arms, “I don’t know what to feel when your old best friend suddenly shows up at your doorstep after ten years.” 

What? 

“Why would I do that?” you whisper, bracing your hand against the doorframe to steady yourself. 

“Well, after graduation you chose a college at the last minute. Decided to go to a prestigious fashion university in Europe. Shacked it up with some British guys and well, forgot about your past but I guess I can’t blame you.” 

“But I couldn’t have left you,” you know you’re not even talking to Jimin, but in fact scolding yourself for being so stupid these past ten years. “I was crying for you that night at prom. All I wanted was for you to be there and hold me!” 

That strikes a cord. Jimin pops his head into the hallway, looking back and forth to see if anyone is watching. He sighs when your tears turn into sobs, shaking your form. “Come in,” he mutters, ushering you inside.

Jimin’s apartment feels more like home than your apartment does. Cosy and warm with the scent of jasmine brewing on the stove. The pour of tea soothes you slightly as you relax on the worn leather couch. 

Jimin hands you a mug, sitting opposite you against the rickety living room table. “Are you okay?” he asks, showing genuine concern for the first time. 

“I’m,” you roll the muddy liquid in your grasp, watching the tea leaves tumble. “I just came back from the hospital, actually. Hit my head drinking last night and I’m suffering from memory loss,” you clutch your head for good measure, feigning injury.  

“Memory loss?” he gapes, unable to see through your lie. 

“Yeah uh,” you wince, “almost ten years of memory loss.” 

Jimin isn’t a man who thinks ahead, preferring to live in the moment. You figure he’s not going to question your excuse. Your former best friend nearly drops his tea in the process, hot drops burning his hand. He hisses, placing the plain mug on the table as he goes to his shelves, pulling out your class yearbook. 

“Ten years,” he shakes his head, looking like he’s just stepped into a Korean drama. “Is that even possible?” 

“Must be,” you sigh, not wanting to delve into the details of how you ended up in the future, “the first thing I did when I woke up was scream my head off. Then I woke up later and the first person I called were my parents who didn’t pick up, and then I wanted to call you but,” you squeeze the cup in your hands, “I couldn’t find your contact so I searched you up.” 

“Should we call the hospital or something? Maybe you shouldn’t be walking around like this.” 

“Don’t worry, they said the memory loss is only temporary,” you force a smile, knocking your head lightly with the heel of your palm, “I just gotta y’know, catch up a little bit. I thought you could help.” 

Jimin is patient, albeit a little nervous, watching carefully as your eyes glaze emptily over the old yearbook. You’re unfazed at the familiar faces and events that are described to you in detail, unable to recall what happened during the events that followed graduation. There’s barely any pictures of you, so it doesn’t help when he tries to explain as much as he can. 

You stop him at the sports section, pointing a finger at Jungkook being carried by his fellow teammates during the lacrosse championships. “What happened to Jungkook?” 

Jimin shrugged, “Blew his sports scholarship,” your eyebrows float to the top of your forehead, appalled that your former love would do such a thing, “decided to pursue his passion and went to an art school for a degree in photography.” 

So much has changed in the past ten years. 

“Hey, can you please stop crying?” 

“I’m sorry,” you warble, wiping at your sleeve as if the fabric didn’t cost hundreds of dollars, “I must be making you so uncomfortable by barging in. I’ll get out of your life—”

“No, not that. I just don’t like seeing you cry,” Jimin sighs, squeezing your knee, “of course I was upset when you suddenly upped and left town to study in another continent. But I was still happy for you. On the internet you seemed tons happier since highschool.” 

“I can say that’s no longer the case,” you mutter sadly, taking a long drag of your tea. The burn flows down your throat, digging you to reality, “I guess I just woke up and wasn’t prepared to be the person I ended up being.” 

“Well, what can your former best friend do to make it better?” 

Your eyes widen at Jimin’s uneasy stare, as if he’s wondering whether he said the right thing or not. 

“Um,” you bite your lip, “will you go shopping with me? I realized I don’t own any sweatpants or sneakers and I would really like to wear something comfortable right now,” you look despondently on your uncomfortable dress, swinging around the sleeves that seem to snag onto everything. 

“Okay,” he nods easily, “will you also buy me new sweatpants and sneakers? And dinner? I really want a New York Strip.” 

“What?” you furrow your brows, “can I afford that?” 

He chuckles to himself, pulling you up and wiping the tears on your face with a tissue from his pocket. You don’t even care to ask whether the tissue is clean, only focusing on the tender gesture that you’ve missed so much. 

“Honey, you’re one of the co-editors of Ego. I’m sure a couple pairs of sweatpants and steak will barely make a dent in your bank account.” 

You’re flabbergasted. Ego? The fashion magazine that’s on billboards and commercials? That Ego? 

After a couple checks through your bank account, and a triple check with a phone call and trip to the ATM, you’re sure the money is yours. It scares you, but also comforts you knowing that you’ve always been able to make it big. 

You barely bat an eye as Jimin tugs you around the city with a familiarity that has you reeling. You struggle to remember the streets you pass and the signs that indicate what part of town you’re in, all whilst Jimin basks in the fruits of your labor. You don’t give a shit, obviously. It makes you happy seeing Jimin slowly melt and grow more comfortable throughout the day. 

This is the kind of life you envisioned. One where comfort isn’t discarded for luxury, where the two cultures can marry. Jimin busts a gut when he sees you angrily shove your Free People dress deep in your shopping bags in favor of a black Adidas tracksuit that makes you feel like a soccer mom. Of course, he doesn’t know why you’re so aggressive with all your luxurious items, heck you even make him drive your Tesla, but nevertheless each passing hour brightens you up considerably.  

When you two arrive at a fancy steakhouse with a dress code, the manager doesn’t hesitate to chide you and suggest the Applebee’s down the street. 

You retort back that you’re an editor of Ego, and in seconds you’d have this restaurant swarmed with bad reviews. You know nothing about culinary review but you’re sure the manager doesn’t know that, and no arguments are placed after that. 

The evening puts you in higher spirits, and you’re almost convinced that you’re a successful twenty-something catching up with your former best friend. You’ve always been mature for your age, high school can do that to a person, and it makes it vastly easier to keep up with the new decade. 

“So,” you help Jimin get his bags up into his apartment. A little part of it feels like a bribe as you carry all the name brands on your arms, but you chalk it up to being compensation for the last ten years, “who are the people you hang out with now? Anyone I know?” 

“Well, Taehyung sometimes drops by if he’s free. He’s traveling the world now, he actually works with you,” Jimin provides the information smoothly, “only he works in the international business column. But surprisingly, the person I hang out the most with is—”

“Jungkook.” 

Standing face-to-face with your old high school sweetheart disarms you, and you’re sorely reminded that just you’re a seventeen-year-old in a twenty-seven-year-old’s body. 

Jungkook looks tired, and he rubs his eyes a bit as if to make sure he isn’t dreaming. You in the flesh, looking purposeful and confident as you hold three bags on each arm, each piece probably costing more than his rent. He’s filled out, what once was lean muscle and minor definition has turned into full muscle mass hidden beneath a large t-shirt and sweatpants that are two sizes too big. His face is still sweet-looking and baby-like, but his hair is overgrown and waving in front of his eyes without a care in the world. 

“Did I mention we’re neighbors?” you can practically hear the wince in Jimin’s voice, probably regretting that he hid that chunk of information from you. 

Jungkook tastes his name on your lips, and it sounds foriegn and strange coming from the both of you. “Good to see you,” he says, voice low. 

You barely formulate a response, replying with an equally nervous “right back at ya” and then you two resume staring at each other. While Jungkook hasn’t seen you in the last ten years, you saw him yesterday. Yesterday, where you started the day all peachy keen and it spiraled downhill shortly after. It’s jarring, knowing that your body doesn’t fit your conscience. 

“Well I uh,” Jungkook lifts his indicator to leave, a large garbage bag, “bye.” 

Jungkook shuffles out of the small hallway, and you get a whiff of his scent. It’s still the same, fabric softener mixed with his own musk. 

“I,” you start off slow, “maybe I should go talk to him?” 

“No,” he warns. “You and Jungkook are completely different people now, he’s just gonna think you’re pitying him if you go up and talk to him out of the blue.”

“But we’ve always been different people.” 

“You really think that?” Jimin shakes his head, “I know what happened at prom was rough but, I really didn’t think much of your relationship with Jungkook before that. It seemed like you were pretty compatible—”

“Up until the point he was kissing Jennie in matching flowers on the balcony like some kind of romance film?” you scoff, crossing your arms, “right. Super compatible.” 

Jimin sighs, as if he’s chastising a teenager. “Prom happened ten years ago, don’t act like it happened yesterday. People change.” 

You frown, because in your mind it did happen yesterday. 

Sleeping last night was hell. It’s one thing to be completely zonked out of your mind and unsure if you’re in a dream or weird coma, but knowing that you’re going to be stuck here for awhile is painful. Your loft is too big for your tiny body, your mattress cold and empty with just you in it. Without your parents to call and you feeling wholly insecure about your rekindling with Jimin, the only person you can really call is… Seokjin. 

And you really don’t want a repeat of your first night. 

So you suck it up, spend your waking hours in your office and quickly learning your tasks for work. You don’t even know what time you’re supposed to clock in, but from a sticky note attached to your MacBook it seems that you have a creative meeting at 10AM. You allow yourself two hours of sleep before you get moving.

The one exciting thing about your morning is that your outfit choices are virtually limitless. You feel like Cher in Clueless, all your outfits color-coordinated and organized by season. You pick out a springy Chanel number, a pale pink tweed skirt suit that has you feeling equally parts cute and an independent working woman. You even make time to buy yourself a coffee, because that’s what adults do right? 

Your office is gorgeous. Also located in the upper part of the city, the glass desk and high windows fit right in. You have an ideas board filled with various designs, fabrics and models to choose from. There’s a little frilly notebook straight out of the 2000s, all filled with phone numbers and special contacts all at your disposal. You even have your own cold press coffee machine complete with a mini-fridge. 

“You’re never this early, nervous for the meeting?” 

You squeal, nearly dropping your coffee as you take a tour around your office. You fight the urge to gape and point accusingly at the woman standing at your door.

“Jennie?” 

“In the flesh,” she gives you a cool smirk, holding her arms out for a hug. It really throws you for a loop, and you’re left stricken in your spot as Jennie closes the gap and squeezes the life out of you. Her grey pinstripe pantsuit crumples against your softer fabric. “You know you can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

“Jennie and you are practically besties,” Jimin sounds a little jealous while saying that, forcing you to scroll through your Instagram page to see the countless selfies of you and your high school rival, “I mean, at least that’s what the internet says. Went to college in Europe together and everything.” 

So it’s true. You awkwardly pat Jennie on the back, and she doesn’t seem to mind when she pulls away and tells you to meet upstairs. You mindlessly follow after her to the conference room, wishing a kind good morning to everyone that greets you. 

Once you make it upstairs, you flinch at the loud screech of your voice. “My favorite editor!” someone in a plaid red suit runs up to you and throws an arm around your shoulders. The editor-in-chief Jung Hoseok smiles brightly at you, leading you to a seat at the head of the table right next to him. You’re cosy with the editor-in-chief? This is crazy! 

“G-good morning Mr. Jung,” you stutter, trying to remain cool. 

“Did something happen to you this weekend?” Hoseok jests, pinching your cheek like a long lost sister. “You always call me Hobi.” 

“Oh,” you force a giggle, “you don’t even know how crazy this weekend was.” 

Hoseok simply laughs and gets himself settled for the meeting.

“I’m so jealous,” Jennie sing-songs, a manicured finger trailing over the back of your chair, “only the best of the best can sit next to the big boss.” 

The comment has you bristling. Are you really friends? Giving her a tight smile, she saunters to another corner of the meeting. On your section of the table is your itinerary and iPad, ready for note-taking. 

“One thing that we do at Ego is consistency,” Hoseok pulls up a projection of this year’s editions, all carbon copies of the same cover. “And while that is admirable, I want to put my top editors to the test and come up with the theme for next month’s issue.” 

Hoseok sends you yet another pearly white smile, and due to the sheer closeness you know that secret smile is only reserved for you. That makes you squirm in your seat, already feeling the pressure building in the pit of your stomach. 

“Take two days off this week to plan. Work out the days you’ll be out of the office with HR, those days you’ll be working in the city, finding ideas and inspiration for the issue. Remember, think outside the box!” Hoseok does a little fist pump, cutting through the air like his life depends on it. 

The whole lot of the group continues to stare at Hoseok, waiting for his next instructions. Then, the adults begin to panic, similar to a high school class that’s been told they have a pop quiz that’s worth half their grade. You sigh internally, you suppose high school never ends. 

“C’mon,” Hoseok urges, flailing his arms around, “get out there! Make moves, make money!” 

But the only moves you’ve made since 2PM are fleeting trips to the bathroom. 

Obviously you don’t have any memory of your degree or experience, so instead of feeling like an editor you feel more like a teenager playing dress-up. You couldn’t even sneakily ask Jennie for help because she deadpanned: “I’m not sharing any secrets, doll.” It seems that being backhandedly mean is a theme in your relationship, so after that you rolled your eyes and locked your door. Thankfully you packed a pair of sweatpants so you can comfortably lie down on the floor while you spread out your workspace. Magazines littered the hardwood, all sultry and sexy looking models staring back at you with the same half-lidded stare and overdone makeup. 

It makes you cringe, thinking back to the other day when you were jealous of these people. Now that you have this life, thriving and full of beauty, is that the only thing you want to show to your audience? How can they possibly relate to models who make triple their salary? What about the authenticity? The ingenuity? 

And that’s when it hits you. 

Scrambling to your computer, you search up a photographer that you know will be completely and utterly transparent. 

My Time Studios: Capturing the raw moment. 

You know exactly what you want for next month’s issue. 

Jungkook does not expect to see you through the peephole of his apartment, fiddling with the threads of your clothes and eyes glued to the ground. He mutters a curse under his breath, jamming his fingers between the metal double lock to swing his head out. He doesn’t even bother to open up all the way, just enough to stick his face out. 

“Jungkook, hi!” he still can’t believe you’re around. Jungkook winces at your tone, high and sounding like a teenager. He thought by now you’d be traveling the world, climbing to bigger and better things. Then again, the upper part of the city is certainly an upgrade. He just thought you’d want to be far, far away from him. “I b-brought you McDonalds.” 

You hold up a greasy bag of fast food, and his nose immediately responds to the smell of fresh fries and a quarter pounder (with cheese, of course.) It annoys him that you still know his weakness, but he isn’t going to go that easily. 

“Why are you here?” he asks a little too sharply, hands gripping the doorknob. 

“I wanted to offer you a job,” you get straight to the point, as if you know your time at his doorstep is limited. 

He scoffs, “You? Want to put my photos on Ego? You know my business extends to weddings and the occasional Bar Mitzvah. Why would you want me?” 

You frown, crossing your arms. He looks down at your attire, a nicely fitted suit on top, but the skirt is replaced with grey sweatpants. Comical, really. “I’ve always loved your photos,” you admit to him, “you know that. And they’ve gotten so much better since then.” 

The furrow between Jungkook’s brows softens a fraction, smoothed by the honesty in your voice. You’re right, you always made sure to tell Jungkook how much you loved his other talents. Namely, the photography, and sometimes his singing. He can still remember how easily you slept in his arms watching Sky City for hours, all at the melody of your favorite song. While his teachers and classmates loved to venerate his position on the team and his ability to garner attention, you encouraged him to work on the things that mattered to him the most, even in secret. 

Nevertheless, that was ten years ago. 

“I don’t need your charity,” he spits, “Jimin might be able to be bought by some designer clothes and an eighty dollar steak, but not me.” 

The pain in your gaze is glaringly evident, and you don’t even try to hide that you’re upset as the paper bag falls against your lap. If there’s one thing Jungkook knows he’s good at, is hurting your feelings. 

“You think this is charity?” you whisper, hurt delicately lacing your voice. 

“Are you kidding? Last month you got Xu Minghao to photograph your spread for Ego. He’s photographed the damn Queen of England,” if you notice that he’s babbling about reading your magazine, you don’t show it in your face, “the point is, I don’t understand why you’re trying to come into my life again. I don’t want to get involved in your fancy dinner galas or anyone else from high school. So please, just go back to your picture perfect life.” 

And without another qualm he slams the door in your face, effectively shutting you out. It doesn’t feel as good as he wants it to feel, clearly. He feels even shitter than before. His eyes glaze over to his rickety coffee table, cluttered with bills and credit card payments that should’ve been dealt with a long time ago. 

He slugs himself over to his couch, throwing his body over the couch that’s way too short. His legs dangle in mid-air, but it doesn’t stop him from throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the sunset. The bills can wait a little longer. Seeing you was too draining. 

The nap turns into a full-fledged night’s sleep, and by the time he wakes up the sky is dark and it’s the start of a new day. 12:08, the screen of his iPhone confirms. Feeling even crustier and worse than before, his stomach decides to harden the blow and go straight for the gut. He’s sorely reminded of the food you offered him hours ago. 

Quickly pulling on a large denim jacket, he grabs his keys and heads for the 7-Eleven down the park. Nothing like a frozen pizza to fill the gut, fast and cheap. Despite the fact that it’s dark and late, there're still some stray people in the park. A few homeless, some high school stoners who are meeting in secret, and you are typing away on your MacBook. 

Wait, what? 

You’re sitting on a bench in the park, typing away without a care in the world. Shoving soggy fries that he earlier refused in your mouth, you let a couple stray potatoes hang from your lips as your eyes succumb to the screen. You look positively silly, still in a pink blazer and baggy sweatpants. 

He must have been staring a little too long, because soon enough you turn your head, gasping at his figure. You quickly avert your eyes, but don’t make any move to leave the park. That interests him further. 

Shamelessly, he calls your name. His legs get to you in an instant, towering over your tiny figure. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Uh, I’m waiting for Jimin,” your eyes flicker to your open laptop, “and working.” 

At least one of those reasons is a lie. Last time he checked, Jimin always sleeps over at Yoongi’s house on this day. He knows it’s a lie, and you know he knows it’s a lie, but neither of you make the effort to correct it. 

“And what could you possibly be working on at 12AM?” 

“Finding a photographer,” you hunch over your laptop, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t have much time and none of my usual contacts are good enough. This project is… personal.” 

It makes him want to ask further, he can’t lie and say he isn’t intrigued in the kind of vision you’re going for in your next issue. “But why can’t you work at home?” 

“Don’t wanna go,” you reply casually, “it makes me feel lonely.” 

Lonely? You feel lonely? He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated at the display of nonchalance. Back in high school he always encouraged you to feel confident, but not like this. “Hey, it’s nice that you feel comfortable enough to chill in the park at 12AM, but it’s really dumb. You’re lucky you haven’t gotten mugged from all that money you’re carrying around!” he gestures to your fancy clothes and laptop, “and if you feel so lonely, call up one of your rich friends I’m sure they’ll—”

“Oh my god, Jungkook,” you slam your laptop shut, darkening the two of you. “I thought you wanted me to go back to my ‘picture perfect life’, so why do you care?” you get up in his face, standing on the bench so you’re nearly eye-to-eye, “why don’t you pester those kids over there? Tell them to drink their milk and go home,” you scoff, shoving your stuff in your bag. You don’t spare him another glance as you stalk off in the other direction. 

He groans, unable to untangle himself from the mess, “Where are you going?” 

“To a park where you’re not in!” 

Despite the exchange for sweatpants, you’re still wearing shoes not fit for walking. They’re little white pumps, not too tall but not remarkably comfy either. However, that doesn’t deter you from getting the heck out of there, seemingly walking in any possible direction to get away from Jungkook. 

“You’re being ridiculous,” he chastises once his hand clasps around your hand, pulling you around. 

There’s a little resistance, as you try to hide your face to no avail. Jungkook fumbles a little, not thinking you’d be crying. But tiny, shy tears are pooling around your eyes, looking flustered at your display of emotion.

“God,” you mutter to yourself, “I feel like such a kid.” 

That strikes a chord in the twenty-something man. The last time he saw you in the flesh was when you were both kids. Young, unbridled, and stupid. Well, only Jungkook was the stupid one. 

“Do you want me to take you home?” Jungkook offers, feeling guilty about his roughness. 

You shake your head. “No, I told you I don’t want to.” 

“Can I at least call you a cab? Or a friend so you won’t get lonely?” 

“Jungkook, if I had that option would you think I’d be here right now?” he’s trying, he really is. But you’re equally as miffed about this whole situation and at a loss. The two of you engage in a staring contest. It only takes a few seconds for you to crumble, and he frowns when you shiver in your thin blazer. 

Instantly, he rips off his jacket, pulling it over your body. It’s huge on you, swallowing your body and hopefully containing some of his residual heat. 

And finally, he relents. “If you want, I’ll come over and stay until you fall asleep.” 

“Okay,” your eyes widen in instant agreement, pulling something out of your pocket. “Will you drive?” 

His eyes widen at the shiny, minimalistic car key. Your sudden one-eighty has him second guessing his decision. “You drive a Tesla?” he gapes, taking your key like he’s holding the Hope Diamond. 

You got your license in February. One month ago, and only because the instructor felt pity on you since it was your second time retaking it. The fancy car terrifies you, and you’re sure Jungkook has much more experience driving (over ten years worth.)  

You shrug, “Not very good at driving. Haven’t had much practice.”

“Um, the car drives itself?” 

“It does?” you tilt your head, dazed, “wow, technology is amazing.” 

He shakes his head, putting a hand on your back so you can lead the way. You must be tired, because it seems like your head isn’t entirely there anymore. He takes charge, buckles you in and takes a couple minutes to fumble with the car settings. Nevertheless the drive home is smooth (and it takes all of Jungkook’s willpower to not squeal in excitement when the Tesla does in fact, drive itself.) 

You lead him inside your loft like a tiny zombie, throwing your shoes to one corner and throwing your jacket on the kitchen table. 

“Must be hungry,” you can’t even form complete sentences, “there’s food in the fridge, Kook. Sorry if it’s not to your taste.” 

Shuffling away to your room, Jungkook is left to gawk at your apartment. The baseboards of your walls are crusted in pretty pearl designs, swirling around the whole expanse. There’s a television that stretches the wall of the little living room, with a sound and video game system he’s only seen in movies. Your tables are meters and meters of granite, and he wonders how the floor of your apartment can hold all this weight. 

But he supposes it’s because there’s nothing much to hold. No pictures line the walls, only vague looking art to fill up blank space. There’s no touch of warmth despite the heating system under the floor that relaxes his toes. For such a big home, he can only imagine how small you must feel in it. 

Your fridge is just as empty, decorated with a couple of sad-looking salads and some protein shakes. He sighs, grabbing two chicken salads and a banana shake and bringing it to your coffee table. It’s a little two quiet for his liking, so he turns on the television real low just to make the room feel a bit fuller. 

Halfway through one salad he realizes he probably should’ve made you eat as well. Even though these salads aren’t remotely filling, they’re much healthier than some soggy fries. A piece of limp lettuce hangs from Jungkook’s mouth, suddenly feeling guilty for soaking up all of your amenities without inviting you. After all, it is your house. Wiping some sauce from his lips he dusts off his pants, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he makes his way to your room. 

Calling your name, the only reply is the whir of the heater. He only cracks the door a tad, but he sees you slumped against the edge of the bed, bare feet hanging from the end. You barely made it, your clothes strewn across the floor, an oversized t-shirt ruched across your barely covered thighs. Without a thought he quickly scrambles to move you closer to your pillows, and then wraps your body in your plush duvet. You’re out like a light. 

You’re sleeping, so Jungkook should go home. That’s what you two agreed to. He goes back to his late dinner (early breakfast?) mindlessly listening to an infomercial on rare dollar coins. He’ll leave after he eats. 

He didn’t leave. 

Jungkook awakes to a scream, your shrill voice echoing all the way down the hallway into your living room. It takes a second for him to register the empty white walls and the fact that he’s not in his apartment, but eventually it goes back to the point that you’re in distress. He jolts, scrambling off the couch to run to your bedroom. 

“What is it?” he exhales into your doorframe, socks sliding. 

Your hair is in a disarray, shirt rumpled and face scrunched in pain. You shove your phone in his face. “Since when did Iron Man die!” you cry, genuinely horrified at whatever entertainment article you’re reading. 

He slumps against the wall, running a hand over his dry face. “Since Endgame, obviously. That was literally two years ago. Is that why you woke me up?” 

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t know!” 

“Have you been living under a rock or something?”

“Or something,” you frown, throwing your phone across your bed, “I guess I should go get ready for work.” 

Jungkook watches as you shamelessly hop off your bed, uncaring that your shirt has ridden up, revealing the full expanse of your thighs and then some. You pull out a pair of sweats from a shopping bag, nicking off the tag to put them on your legs. 

“Do you have work?”  you ask casually. 

“Uh, no,” Jungkook coughs, crossing his arms. It’s been awhile since he’s had a solid gig. Two whole weeks have been spent doing more personal work which was fine, but at the same time his bank account could beg to differ. “I’m off today.” 

“Oh, alright,” you shrug, “do you know where I can buy a good camera?” 

“Why?” 

“Gonna go take pictures,” you snatch your wallet and keys from your bedside, stuffing it in a fanny pack. He watches you curiously as you zip your bag shut, muttering something about how you can’t believe that fanny packs are back in style. Swinging the strap over your back, you brush past him. “You can stay if you want,” you add pointedly, before you slip into the bathroom. 

Jungkook doesn’t understand as to why he’s slipping into sensory overload. The house is a shell of itself and the antithesis of a rainbow. Maybe it’s the fact that he woke up ten minutes ago or how you look completely peaceful and want to leave as soon as you wake up. Or how shocked you were that Iron Man has passed and you’ve completely missed Phase 3. Or that you’re not even thinking about breakfast or not wishing him a farewell, practically throwing him into your apartment like a second home. 

He wobbles back to the couch, trying to look as nonchalant as possible as he drapes the fuzzy blankets over his body. He flips through the channels, before finally settling on an old episode of Sky City. 

When you walk out into the living room, you scrunch your face in pain when you make eye contact with Kim Seokjin’s on screen appearance. Oh, how things change. Jungkook knew how much you loved watching Sky City, indulging in the protagonist's attractiveness. 

“Y’know,” Jungkook says over his shoulder, “if you leave me here, I could steal whatever I want.” 

“Go ahead,” you reply flippantly, already slipping on your sneakers. “There’s nothing of value here.” 

What is wrong with you? 

“Wait!” Jungkook throws all his pride at the window, unable to conceal his worry for you. Half your body is out the doorway, and you’re looking at him like he’s grown a second head. His voice takes up the entirety of the room, startling you. “I need to come with you,” he finally settles on, looking serious. “You’re going to buy the wrong camera.” 

“Okay,” you concede immediately, throwing the keys on the couch, “you drive.”

Jungkook must know something’s wrong with you. 

You don’t know how to act around him. Your heart is hurt and your body is a decade older than it was a week ago and everything in your life and mind is a complete wreck. It still aches to look at him, despite the fact that you want him around, all the time. You wish you could know a little more about your adult life, you feel like a proverbial Bambi sitting in a car worth more than your childhood home. It’s a wobbly, shaky road to adulthood, and you’re not having it. 

Jungkook sleeping over is the last thing you thought would happen last night. You didn’t even think he’d relent to coming to your house, since he was pretty hellbent on not being your photographer. 

But now he’s driving your Tesla again, after you instructed him to park the car where you parked it last time. That way, you can go back to the playground you were in the night before. You have a vision for the issue and it starts there. Fiddling around with the expensive camera Jungkook picked out, you feel his gaze burning into your shoulder. 

“Am I doing something wrong?” you ask archly, “I read the manual and everything. Or are you just being a perfectionist again?” 

“What’s wrong with being a perfectionist?” Jungkook shoots back, putting the car in park. As soon as the car stills in the parking lot, he grabs the camera from your grasp like a petulant child. “I’m just trying to make sure you don’t break it. Face it, you’re terrible at technology.” 

“Excuse me! I have a Samsung 25+ and a Tesla!” 

“Yeah? So why did I catch you struggling to use your pay feature on your phone when we grabbed coffee?” 

“It’s new,” you mutter under your breath. Everything is new to you. 

With a growl you snatch back the camera, and Jungkook for once doesn’t act like a baby with a sharing complex and relents. Of course, Jungkook manages to calibrate the camera and figure out the color balance before you could. This only annoys you further, wondering why Jungkook is still sticking around after all this time. 

“Alright,” you step out of the car, slinging the camera around your neck. “Thanks for driving me around, your apartment’s just down the street, right?” You dart your hand out, and Jungkook reluctantly hands over your key beeper. Maybe it’s because he seems to love the car so much, that he has a hard time giving it back. “I’ll see you around.” 

“Wait,” is that his word of the day? Wait wait wait. 

“What is it now, Jungkook?” 

He’s never seen you so full of negative emotions. You’ve been waiting for him to tire of you all day, from your clipped replies and unease ever since you two stepped out of your apartment. 

“Um,” he looks embarrassed, scratching the back of his head, “are you really going to take pictures? You always took really blurry pictures in high school.” 

The mention of high school has you icy, gripping the matte black digital camera to hold your feelings at bay. “Yes, I’m going to go take pictures because the photographer I wanted so rudely rejected me,” you revel in the way he shrinks, probably regretful already. “So if you’ll excuse me, I have a deadline.” 

He continues to follow you, all the way to the park. You make your way to a little garden, and start to take some test photos next to the little daisies that decorate the patch of dirt. You practically feel Jungkook breathing down your neck, feeling antsy everytime you click the shutter. Ignoring him is difficult, especially when he makes little noises of discomfort when you presumably do something wrong. 

“Jungkook, are you going to say something?” you seethe, not caring that the heavy camera strains your neck when it falls against your chest, “or are you just going to make me wait.”

Jungkook’s face is scrunched up, and finally he blurts, “I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry for what?” 

“For saying your life is picture perfect,” he sputters quickly, looking very sweaty. Jungkook always got sweaty when he did things a little too hard. Playing sports, thinking, campaigning on video games. “I—I didn’t mean it. I don’t know. I guess I was just upset at myself and I took it out on you.” 

“Well why are you upset at yourself?” 

“I’m upset because I—I don’t know, it’s complicated,” he plops down on the nearest bench, and while you follow him, you don’t let yourself sit next to him. If you do, you know your subconscious will want to wrap your arms around him and comfort him. That would probably be the worst possible action to perform. “I don’t really do the whole photoshoot thing. Like I said, I’m just doing some weddings and parties here and there. I shouldn’t have said those things about Jimin and how you’re only talking to us out of charity. It’s my fault for not considering how complicated your life could be too,” he looks down at the ground, shameful, “so if you still want me, I would really like to photograph for Ego. And I would also really like that camera back.” 

Unable to resist, you reach over to give him a pat on the shoulder. “I forgive you,” you reply numbly, thinking he was going to apologize for something else. You suppose he’s forgotten about that fateful prom night, just like everyone else. “It’s actually not for Ego, at least not yet. My boss is pitting us against each other, the best idea wins the cover theme.” 

“Don’t worry, we’ll win,” his face eventually breaks into a grin when you remove the camera from your body. “Come to daddy, baby,” he cooes, holding the shiny new camera in his hands like a newborn. 

“Gross,” you twitch, although you’re feeling all the more relieved knowing Jungkook will now be taking the visual reins. “You haven’t had a chance to look at the contract made up, but being paid five-hundred okay?” 

“Five-hundred a week?” 

“No, per day,” you correct, “why wouldn’t I pay you just like I pay the others?” 

Jungkook’s dark brows fly to his forehead. He practically chokes on his spit at the way you put Jungkook in high regard. A blush overtakes his visage, proud and pink as he rushes to get away from you. 

“You don’t even know my concept,” you called after him, chasing the midday sun. 

Jungkook is already in position, fitting the lens between two buildings. The afternoon sun looks like an egg yolk, melting between the clouds. “Well then is it?” he asks, bending down on one knee to get the perfect angle. 

“Well, yesterday when I thought of the idea I just wanted to be reminded of how easy being a kid was,” you don’t even know if Jungkook’s listening properly, given the rapid click click clicks of the shutter and Jungkook constantly moving around to get as many shots as possible. “I realized that not everyone can relate to the models or the clothes we advertise on Ego. Why would I want to see people I actually admire? Like, my friend’s older brother. Or Jimin, president of the drama club. Or even Jungkook, captain of the lacrosse team.” 

“So, nostalgia. The 2000s are back in style, I like it,” he replies simply, tilting the camera towards you, “pose for me.” 

“What? Jungkook,” you frown, holding a hand over your face. He doesn’t relent, continuing to snap you in different angles. 

“Oh! That was a nice one,” he turns the camera to reveal the screen of your furrowed brows, hand over your face, “looks super grunge. Totally a throwback look.” 

“Jungkook, I don’t model. I’m just the one who throws the ideas.” 

“Yeah, but. Wouldn’t it be cool if the readers of Ego could see the genius behind the paper and ink?” he gestures vaguely to your outfit, “and you’re wearing Fila. So that’s like, kind of designer?” 

“I don’t know,” you hug yourself, “I’ll think about it, okay? Let’s focus.” 

“Fine,” Jungkook stops buzzing around you, putting the camera down and following you as you walk back to your car. You don’t think you really need anymore park photos, and Jungkook seems to telepathically agree as well. 

“We need to plan some outfits and some backgrounds. I’ve already arranged a meet up tomorrow in front of our old high school with a couple of models. The school is on a grade-wide trip, so we’ll even have access to the track and field. I was also thinking disposable film? We could scan those.” 

“Alright, who are your models?” 

“Oh, you know. Just friends from school. I wanted it to be as authentic as possible. Taehyung flew back from Hamburg last night, so he said he’ll come. Jimin, obviously.” 

“Well you only had like, two friends in highschool.” 

“And you,” you clip on with a frown, “so don’t dress like a potato sack tomorrow, okay?” 

“I’m not modeling.” 

“Well, I’m still looking for a celebrity model to tack onto so. Don’t look like a chump.” you stick out your hand, while Jungkook pouts at your outstretched limb. If he feels sore that you called him a chump, he doesn’t comment on it when he clasps his larger hand in yours. “Partners?”

“Partners.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me your celebrity model was him?” 

“I specifically told you not to dress like a paper bag. Why did you continue to do so!” 

“You didn’t specify that your model was Kim Seokjin!” 

The current conversation is hushed, hissed between large reflective light panels and a parked car that held all your rented equipment. Currently, Taehyung, Seokjin and Jimin are huddled on the bleachers of your old stomping grounds, laughing at whatever funny video Seokjin has pulled up. They’re all dressed in variants of the same sweatsuit, a combination of Taehyung’s choosing since he’s one of the many color coordinators at Ego. 

But you haven’t started yet, and you would like to get some morning shots in before it gets any warmer. Jungkook is still petulant, pretending to buy time by balancing his tripod. He’s wearing his Birkenstocks, so old they’re definitely the same pair from highschool, and yet another black sweatsuit. 

“Seokjin’s like a big, fat cheeseball,” you assure Jungkook, who’s actually shaking from being in the presence of a celebrity. “No reason to be nervous.”

“That man has literally been part of our Sitcom Sundays for three years,” he gripes, “of course I’m nervous!” 

“Just go to the car. If you want to change I’m sure Taehyung’s brought something that fits you.”

“Well if they see me change they’re gonna see I’m trying too hard,” Jungkook pouts, he actually pouts. 

“I can’t,” you turn around, your Miss Frizzle-esque solar system dress whirling around your waist. The stars twinkle, glittering into Jungkook’s eyes. “Jungkook, do whatever you want. But we need to start in ten! No, five! I’m not paying you to try on Balenciaga and Off-Brand!” 

If Jungkook is shocked by your sudden snippiness or need to get things wrapped up, he doesn’t say anything to it. For once, he’s quiet about his needs and you’re thankful for it. Once he’s gone, you have a chance to breathe. It’s all wholly overwhelming to dive right into the job. Your brain is still in 2011 unfortunately.

“Babe, everything alright?” 

Seokjin appears behind you, having ditched Jimin and Taehyung after he saw you and Jungkook argue. He smooths his hands over your biceps. You’re still unsure over the exact nature of your adult-self’s relationship, but it seems that sans sex you two are relatively close with each other. 

“M’fine,” you mumble tiredly, trying not to stiffen under his hold. You suppose Jimin isn’t going to be the friend you confide into this lifetime. “I’m just nervous. We’re doing all this work and it can potentially go down the drain after this week. What if my idea’s stupid and we’re wasting time? Jennie texted me that her concept is going to be killer and now I’m scared this concept is too aesthetically soft and people don’t care about nostalgia anymore and I feel like simultaneously throwing up and crying—” 

“Whoa whoa, who’s replaced my confident editor and where did she go?” Seokjin decidedly goes with the notion that you’re definitely not fine. He swings his neck back and forth, peering behind the bleachers and over the football field. “My confident editor would never talk bad of herself like this! She commanded a whole crew of fifty within seconds when she did the Kim Taeyeon shoot in Milan! She never cowers under a challenge, the challenge cowers to her!” and in his gallancy you no longer try to shy away, in fact you even giggle at his silly way of comforting you. “And most importantly, she’d never compare herself to a wench like Jennie.” 

Seokjin doesn’t hesitate to swipe the moisture right under your waterline, making sure any traces of your crying are undetectable. ���W-wait,” you sputter, “you mean, me and Jennie aren’t actually friends?” 

He chuckles, pulling you into a hug. “Even now, you’re such a good actress.” 

You let Seokjin continue to hold you as the pieces in your empty mind come together. If Jennie is truly not your friend and you two have been faking it all this time, how serious is it? And if so, are you the competitive type? You know for sure Jennie is, and will she stop at nothing to make sure she gets the spread? 

This fear is combined with an equal amount of sadness. You were a little excited to have a lasting friend from college, but your mother always told you to never believe anything on the internet. You suppose those selfies of you and Jennie on your Instagram are nothing but a facade. 

But at the very least Seokjin’s care for you isn’t fake, and you’re thankful that you have at least one friend in this life. If you didn’t do this time skip, would Seokjin remain your only friend? You try not to think too hard about it, “Thanks, Seokjin. I really appreciate you.” 

“Will you appreciate me tonight then?” Seokjin makes a move to kiss your neck, and the moment is promptly ruined. 

Shoving him away you say firmly, “Touch me like that again and I’ll rip your dick off in front of this whole crew.” 

“I love it when you get feisty,” Seokjin melts, but salutes you like a drill sergeant as he runs back to the men on the bleachers. 

It’s then you feel a presence looming over your shoulder. Tall, dark, and emanating. He’s changed, in favor of some fitted jeans and a plain white shirt, paired with black boots. Jungkook is behind you, glaring over your shoulder at Seokjin. So much for showing off your professionalism. Crap, how much of that did he hear? 

“Jungkook, I–”

“Let’s start,” he mutters gruffly, stepping past you to get to the equipment. 

You slap a hand over your face. It’s going to be a long day. 

However, the hours following are probably one of the brightest hours of your life since you’ve appeared in your future-self’s body. At first Jimin was anxious at your invitation, despite being in the high school plays and being okay at public speaking, he didn’t know he’d have the potential to be a model. A couple test shots and some coaching from Taehyung, Jimin is a natural, his photogenic energy strong enough to compete toe-to-toe with Seokjin. 

You also have to hand it to Taehyung, who has been running back and forth between modeling and choosing outfits for the boys. Jimin and you didn’t run in the same group as Taehyung back in high school, but time changes things and if given the opportunity, you would’ve loved to be friends with him back then. 

By the time you are done for the day and you feel like all the possible shots have all ready been taken, you circle around the school. You previously went inside empty classrooms, posed in the cafeteria, even pretended to reenact your school rendition of RENT in the auditorium. 

Everything is mostly packed up and put into the car by the time the sun is setting, and you just wanted to perfect this one shot. 

The gymnasium looks a lot smaller than it did as a child. As a teenager, you constantly feared getting hit in the face by a stray wiffleball, or throwing up during the pacer test after the 100th lap. But now, it just looks like an old gym. 

“It smells like sweaty balls in there,” Taehyung curses, adjusting the patterned button down by smoothing down his chest. He jabs a finger in the boys locker room, where Jimin comes out with another new outfit. 

“I think the sandwich I left in senior year is still there,” Jimin adds, pulling the collar around his burgundy knitted sweater. 

The back of the gym is decorated in balloons. Overnight you managed to build a balloon ring off of Pinterest, one of your proudest moments as you made Jungkook haul the rainbow colored arc and shove it into the trunk. Seokjin is sitting directly under the arc, decorating a letter corkboard. It’s one of those cork boards all the teachers display in class, often decorated with some witty quote or a basic “Welcome to Mr/Mrs/Miss _____’s Class!” 

Jungkook is setting up the camera on a tripod, wanting to do it the old fashioned way. Aside from the freakout he had in the beginning when he realized he was photographing Kim Seokjin, he’s been quiet and strictly professional throughout the whole ordeal. It’s amazing to see this side of him, as he seamlessly transitions from shoot to shoot knowing exactly what he has in mind for each photograph. His direction is soft but impactful, and the boys have no problems following directions. 

“Okay boys, everyone under the arc!” 

Working like this is a rush you can’t even imagine. In high school the path you were in the process of choosing wasn’t clear cut up until this point, but now you know exactly what you want to do for the rest of your life. 

Seokjin holds the finished corkboard in the middle, a proud Class of Ego in white block letters. 

Jungkook only gets a few shots in before Seokjin bemoans, letting the corkboard fall in his lap. 

“Guys, this picture’s gonna stink.” 

Jungkook’s appalled, “Excuse me—” 

“Because you two aren’t in it!” Taehyung agrees easily, “c’mon, JK. Put your camera on timer mode and let’s have all of us in it!” 

A blush melts on Jungkook’s neck, all the way to the tips of his ears. “What? No, that’s silly Tae. I really don’t—agh!” 

The three men are in a controlled frenzy, aiming to get their mission done. Seokjin rounds the camera and makes quick work of enabling a timer and a burst shot. Jimin pulls you by the waist, tugging you ungracefully to the center of the arc. Taehyung is doing a pretty good job of hauling your muscle hunk of a photographer, pressing his shoulders across yours. 

And finally, Seokjin hands you the corkboard. “You should be holding it. After all, you’re the brains behind it!” 

At first it feels awkward, squished between new friends and old friends. First loves and last loves. Despite his warm bicep pressing against you, Jungkook is akin to a sheet of cardboard, arm-to-arm and stiff as a board. 

“Alright people, let’s move it!” Seokjin yells unnecessarily loud, the noise echoing throughout the high walls. “Last couple shots here, and we’re not re-doing it because I’m tired as hell! So look alive and pretend to like each other!” 

The first click of the camera stuns all of you, akin to many terrible school photos where the flash disarms you and your face twists. But that click suddenly gets Jungkook into gear, and you feel him slide a hand over your shoulder, squeezing you toward him so you’re pressed against the side of his chest. He still smells like floral fabric softener, and that makes you smile. 

And suddenly you feel like you’re seventeen again, surrounded with the people you care for the most. 

“So, the tabloids are true huh?” Jimin smirks, waving a flimsy fry in your face. 

“T-tabloids?” you sputter, dabbing the ketchup off your cheek. The greasy burger slips off your grip and onto your plate.  Your expression says it all, it’s painfully innocent and genuinely confused as you attempt to swallow the cheese and lettuce as fast as possible. 

The crew sans Seokjin is eating a very late dinner with you at the restaurant of their choice. They put it to a vote, while you desperately wanted some McDonalds everyone else voted for a more high end restaurant. After all, you’re paying. 

“Ah, don’t try playing coy with us,” Taehyung jests, “the office talks.” 

“Well, whatever you’ve heard isn’t true,” you huff, crossing your arms. “At least, not anymore.” 

“What?” Taehyung bugs out, “I thought you loved your no strings attached relationship with Jinnie.” 

“I guess I did,” you frown, deflating against the plush booth, “I don’t know. I don’t know what I liked back then.” 

You resume eating your burger, trying to ignore the worried look Jimin sends you. He reaches over the table to press his thumb to the little 11s in your forehead, a product of stress. “Does your head still hurt?” he asks. 

Jungkook’s chewing slows considerably. He’s been strangely quiet this evening, opting to order a handful of appetizers and gorging on every single edible thing on the table like a glutton. But at Jimin’s question he turns his head to look at you, “Why would your head still hurt?” 

“She hit her head when she went out drinking with Seokjin last week,” Jimin supplies, “messed with her memory.” 

“Chim,” you frown, gently shoving him off you, “I’m fine now. Pretty much caught up. Just reevaluating my life choices, okay?” 

“How could Seokjin let that happen?” Jungkook asks, putting his fork down. 

“He wasn’t even there,” you shake your head, trying to clear Seokjin’s name as fast as possible. After all, this lie is completely fabricated, a blanket to cover the magical properties your true nature being here has. “I’m fine, Jungkook. Don’t worry about me.” 

He huffs, resuming his meal. “Wasn’t worried,” he disarms, reaching over the table to snatch a mozzarella stick. 

You cover up your disgusted expression by wiping your chin with a soft blue napkin. Jungkook is really out here inhaling the whole table and being a bit of a jerk. 

“Well,” Taehyung claps his hands together, regarding all of you with a closed-lipped smile stretched so wide you’re worried he’ll break. “This is nice. I can’t imagine a time where I’d be reunited with you three. It’s weird. But a good weird.” 

“Ditto,” Jimin echoes, lifting his glass to clink with Taehyung’s. Throwing an arm over your shoulder he remarks, “could’ve never imagined my ‘ol best friend would’ve wanted to pursue fashion.” 

“What?” you glower, pinching his thigh, “I love fashion! I spent months planning my Clueless Halloween costume and our summers cosplaying!” 

“Right, Cher,” teased Jimin, “that yellow plaid suit that made you look like a bottle of mustard?” 

“You little–” 

Taehyung begins to laugh when you start to tickle Jimin in the sweet spots, causing Jimin to curl his leg around your ankle and pull you onto his lap for a hair pull. It’s all in fun and nothing hurts, but you’re so caught up in it you’re sure people are worried about your well-being. Even Jungkook is laughing, egging Jimin on while Taehyung weakly attempts to pull you away. 

If you could rewrite the last ten years of your life, this moment would define the remake. 

“Why are we here?” 

“For research purposes.” 

“Are you sure the actual purpose is because you don’t feel like working in the office?” 

“Jungkook,” you groan, tired of his infinite amount of negativity. “This was our senior trip! Of course I want to get a couple shots in before my big presentation.” 

“You’re risking my baby’s life,” Jungkook cradles the digital camera closer to his chest, swaddling it between its felt case. Ever since you purchased the camera, Jungkook has been unable to let it go. This adoption is both equal parts cute and strange, and you’re a little too scared to ask for it back. 

“I promise, no big rides,” you roll your eyes, “your baby will be fine.” 

The local amusement park is a fan-favorite amongst the city-goers, a reprieve from the hustle and a chance for you to spend your copious amounts of money on overpriced sugar and popcorn. The last time you went here was two weeks ago—in your mind. In Jungkook’s mind it was over ten years ago and he probably doesn’t even remember the time spent roaming the artificial floor and the infinite amount of bubbles that seem to eject from the air to add to the whimsical charm. 

Jungkook isn’t even paying attention, citing it as an artist block because he’s going through sensory overload with the amount of stimuli in the crowd. Screaming teenagers wailing under him from a nearby rollercoaster, the smell of sticky caramel apples pumping through the diffuser stands, and the amount of gaudy color that decorates every single logo of the park. 

He plops himself down on a nearby bench while you wait in line to get some food. It’s early in the morning and a weekday, so you figure this is the best time to get some photographs in without any passerbys. You figure Jungkook will get the hang of it once he has some food in his stomach. 

“A funnel cake?” Jungkook is bewildered when you return with the confection in hand, “it’s ten A.M.” 

You raise a brow, knowing how much Jungkook loves sweet foods. The funnel cake especially, he ate at least three when you went to your senior trip, one for every meal. But you’re an adult, or at least posing as one, and you shrug loftily, plucking a hot piece of fried dough from your plate. “Alright then,” you reply, “I’ll just eat the whole thing.” 

Once the cake touches your tongue, you can’t help but make an exaggerated moan in pleasure. You can feel Jungkook squirming like an earthworm next to you, either from the scrumptious smell of funnel cake or the way you’re so enthusiastically eating it. 

“W-wait,” Jungkook’s stomach growls at the perfect moment, “I want some. But I don’t want to get the camera dirty, pass me a napkin.” 

“I can just feed it to you!” you quip innocently, immediately ripping off a piece and shoving it between Jungkook’s pink lips. You feel a little slick in the finger, saliva briefly coating your digits before you pull away. You swallow, feeling a familiar tingle in your tummy and a sickening heat low in your belly. 

You fight back a sigh, wondering if your libido also did a massive growth spurt in your twenty-seven years of age. 

Jungkook is placated at the touch of food, and you take turns feeding yourself and feeding him while more customers trickle in the park. Confectioners sugar dusts Jungkook’s long-sleeved tee, the white color staining the dark fabric. You reach to pat his chest, ignoring the toneness that still remains from high school. 

“Alright, let’s ride,” you declare, pulling Jungkook up once you’re done eating. 

“Do we have to?” 

“What happened to the adrenaline junkie I once knew?” 

“He realized being an adrenaline junkie doesn’t make money and he should stay on the ground.” 

“Alright, Negative Nancy,” your reply has no bite to it, and suddenly you wished you invited Jimin or Seokjin before Jungkook. Jungkook may have the talent, but he certainly doesn’t have the attitude. You don’t even get why he’s still defensive, after all you thought he apologized in the beginning. It’s not like you’re the problem. 

“Gimmie your hand,” your thoughts cut out when Jungkook offers his large hand in front of yours, palm up. 

“Why?”

“C’mon,” he whines, settling for snatching your hand instead. His palms feel larger, rougher as they enclose your smaller hand. “Now hurry up and walk in front of me. I’m gonna take a picture.” 

You already have a feeling as to what this picture is going to look like, so you scrunch your nose. “That is so cheesy.” 

“It’s for the nostalgia factor, now hurry up and pretend we’re on a date.” 

You roll your eyes but relent, jogging a few steps ahead so you can get into character. This pose used to be a popular one, where the sweet boyfriend would be dragged around by the girlfriend’s hand, tugging him to wherever she wanted to go. It’s super cliche but if Jungkook figures it’ll fit your theme, you’ll do it. Eventually you forget that you’re holding his hand, and point ahead to some rides you want to try out. 

“Oh, Jungkook! Remember that one?” you point to a teacup ride, with guests spinning vigorously through their own seat. “Jimin got so sick he fell asleep in the car for an hour!” 

Jungkook doesn’t reply, so you turn around and face him. Click. Jungkook smirks at his little trick, which makes you rip your hand from his and walk further. 

“Hey, hey,” he chuckles, the first smile of the day. Food really does make him peaceful. “The shot looks good, you look good.” 

“Could’ve just asked me to turn around and pose,” you huff. 

“Then it would ruin the fun,” he replies, “now c’mon, let’s ride the teacups. For old time’s sake.” 

Ten minutes later and the both of you are soon regretting that decision. You’re once again slumped on the bench, this time unable to keep your head up so you rest it on Jungkook’s shoulder while he leans on your head. 

“Haven’t rode that since I was a teenager,” Jungkook moans, holding his stomach. “Remind me not to eat so fast before getting on that kind of ride.” 

You mirror his expression, feeling green. “Is this what late-adult life feels like?” 

“Yep,” Jungkook replies, unbeknownst of how shocked you are at how weak your body has become. “You wake up with back pain, pre-arthritis from all the typing you’ve done over the last decade, and a lot of stress. Definitely not the fantasy you’d imagine from your 20s.” 

“You think you’d be less stressed if you kept your lacrosse scholarship?” 

“Nah, I think I saved myself,” Jungkook shakes his head, “before I could be any more awful than I already was.” 

You refuse that notion, sending him a bitter smile. “Well, look at me. I became awful right after high school.” 

“I didn’t mean you—”

“I know,” you hold up a hand to stop him. The two of you follow a red path up the hill, leading to a simple cable car ride. It’s a slow travel ride, made to get from one side of the park to the other with a beautiful view over the lake. “But you see those tabloid articles. They must be true.” 

“I—I didn’t think they were all true,” Jungkook’s lying through his teeth to make you feel better, but you don’t care. “Why do you sound unsure?” 

You shrug, “Probably wasn’t sober for most of my bad decisions,” considering your friendship with Seokjin and his boisterous drinking attitude, you wouldn’t be surprised, “If they weren’t true, I believe Jimin and I would’ve stayed friends. I can’t imagine why I left my home like that. But I guess it doesn’t matter too much because I came back. And I mean, we’re here together doing work,” you gesture between the small space between each other, “I think that counts for something.”  

The two of you walk in silence for a bit, contemplating. The line to the cable car isn’t long but it’s slow, considering the cable only moves a couple meters a second. The take-off area is a risen slab of concrete, and the cars are continuously moving so you have to hop on one car as soon as another guest exits. 

There’s a little bit of space between it, a centimeter gap that could be nerve wracking if there’s no staff around. You think nothing of it as you fiddle on your phone, waiting for the staff member to let you and Jungkook in on the next car. 

Jungkook enters first, taking great care to cradle the camera in one hand so it doesn’t sway against the car. The car swings a little as well, and Jungkook holds out a hand for you to grab. 

Instead you focus on how the once bright glassy pink is sun-ravished, faded and rusting on the metal door flaps. The color is almost pearlescent, vastly different than the vivid color you saw two weeks ago. You almost want to reach out and touch it, wondering where that quality went. 

“Bun, be careful!” 

The tip of your heel nicks on the stepping stone, slipping like butter as you topple forward. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hauling you into the car just as the metal door locks into place. The hard plastic of the camera digs into your chest uncomfortably as you plop on top of Jungkook, between his legs as half his thighs rest against the uncomfortable seat. 

“Were you not watching where you were going?” Jungkook huffs, blowing his bangs over his forehead. 

Instead of an artful answer you blurt, “You, you called me Bun.” 

His eyes widen at your response, and his grip loosens around your body. His eyes dart anywhere but your face, his cheeks ruddied and stained coral as he moves to remove you from his body. “It was a slip of the tongue,” he coughs, turning on his camera and getting shots of the lake. 

You huff in response, sticking to your side of the carriage. “I missed it,” you murmur to the wind, although you make yourself loud enough for him to hear. 

You try to bury your sour expression in your sleeves, just to hide how absolutely childish you feel. You don’t even care that Jungkook is trying to take pictures of you looking out the view, only trying to eradicate the feelings that are still down deep in your blood. Even the twenty-seven year old Jungkook is charming, albeit in a completely different way. 

The grown, mature Jungkook toots to his own horn. He isn’t concerned about a team or an image, and gave it all up to pursue an art he loves. The lacrosse jerseys exchanged for bulky long sleeves, the sport for a camera, and a mask for his true image. 

“Let’s go,” Jungkook takes your hand again when the ride stops, not letting go until you’re on steady ground. You figure he must think you walk like a toddler barely on her first mile. 

Would Jungkook like you even as an adult? With all this money, this power and this confidence you envisioned as a seventeen-year-old, it still doesn’t feel enough for him. In fact, you feel like a sore thumb sticking out, decorated in silly rumors and expensive clothes that separate you far from your roots. 

“Hey,” Jungkook touches your arm, pointing to a basketball carnival game, “remember this one?” 

“Yeah,” forcing a smile, you follow him to the small crowd that starts to form around the basketball game. The baskets are a short distance from the player, but so high up that it’s hard to tell the shape of the hoop. “I tried to tell you that it was completely rigged. From an angle you can see it’s still oval-shaped.” 

“And I told you it didn’t matter if the hoop was an octagon, I’d get you that prize,” he jerks a thumb to the prize booth, where a blue Piplup plush sits proudly with all the other starter Pokemon. “And I did.” 

“It’s still in my room,” you reply proudly, even though Jungkook is acting almost immaturely smug. “I, I mean it’s still in my room in my parent’s house. It’s probably lonely because my parents have been on a cruise for almost two weeks.” 

He raises a brow, eyes drifting to the booth. “Should I win another one to keep your bed in the city warm?” 

“That sounded oddly sexual.” 

“You know what I mean,” and Jungkook’s rolling up his sleeves, handing you the camera. 

“Jungkook,” you whine when he pulls out a roll of bills from his pocket, as if he prepared for this moment, “Jungkook c’mon—I don’t need any stuffed animals. Ugh.” 

You swear that the majority of your day is spent watching Jungkook blow cash on a low-quality stuffed animal with packaging pellets for the inside. Turns out carnival technology has also enhanced over the years, and it takes both your whining and the clerk’s whining to stop Jungkook from blowing his entire wallet to get one basket in. Eventually the staff relents and lets Jungkook take a Piplup keychain instead, glumly handing it over to you. 

“I like this better,” you chirp, clipping the ring onto your car keys, “now I can bring Piplup everywhere.” 

A small, barely there smile appears on Jungkook’s face. 

The rest of the day melts away like that, and before you know it the sun is slipping into the horizon and you’re being dropped off at your apartment. Jungkook even insists to walk you to your door, because your prizes are heavy. (Yes, he went back for the oversized Piplup.) 

It’s all too familiar, the way the walk upstairs is achingly slow, as if the moment is stretching itself down the hallway. How Jungkook looks so prideful holding the fruits of his labor, following you with a tug of your hand because the prize is too big for Jungkook to see straight. 

At the same time it’s different. The way you wobble around the hallway because you’re a little tipsy from wine flights is noticeable, even cute. How easy it is to not feel nervous when you clutch at his hand. How you two look like a seasoned couple, coming home from an all-day date. 

It ends at the front door, and you crack it open so you can slip your prizes through the crack. 

“Thanks, Jungkook,” you hold up the SD card that held all the precious memories of this week. 

This is where you part ways. You’ll spend the rest of the night editing your presentation, while Jungkook promised to go to a bar with his friends. A little part of you hoped you’d be invited, but you knew that would be impractical considering you have work in the morning. 

“Break a leg,” he says, leaning on the balls of his feet with his hands in his pockets, “you’ll do great. You’ve always been meant to do great things.” 

The investment he lays on you is insurmountable, and you feel yourself flush with simultaneous excitement and anxiety. Unknowing how to calm your nerves, you give him a small “thank you” and put your hand on the knob to slip away. 

“Wait—” 

You blink, a deer in the headlights as Jungkook swoops down and kisses you. 

You’ve received kisses—kisses reserved for a twenty-seven year old, before. Seokjin is an eager lover, and you felt it that fateful morning and even during your photoshoot when he tried to be sneaky and pull you away. Fleeting bites, kisses to the neck that are wet and hot.

Jungkook’s kiss does not feel like that. It feels like home. It feels like coming home after a long day of work, wrapping yourself in an old afghan and a hot cup of tea. The feeling of hot laundry, fresh front the dryer and smelling of floral softener. It tastes like ten years lost in a void, returning to your senses and lighting you up.

He holds you as if you’ll disappear right in front of him. Large hands cup your face, like a precious thing he never wants to let go. Your hands can do nothing but grapple after his, nails digging into his skin. 

“Good night, Jungkook,” you send him a lovestruck smile, a puppy love face. 

“Good bye, Bun,” he replies simply, jogging down the hallway. 

Being twenty-seven starts to feel a little more like heaven. 

Jennie used to annoy you in high school, but now she just down right scares you. 

Her presentation is one straight out of a thriller, with red shadow lights and neon green splattered in the dark room. Her models are intense, her designs are beautiful but overwhelmingly chaotic, and the whole affair is rather grotesque. The headline Fashion Suicide glares at you in a morbid scarlet font. 

Hoseok sends her a tight-lipped smile, and presses a button on his desk. “I need my antacids, Krystal,” Hoseok deadpans. 

Nothing betrays Jennie’s wicked expression, in fact her smirk widens at Hoseok’s fear. 

You on the other hand, are cool as a cucumber when you walk up to the front of the conference room. In fact, you barely have to say anything as the presentation presents itself. Jungkook took the liberty of making a video compilation for you, one that they could use in YouTube and Instagram promotions. 

“This, is preserving our youth,” you declare proudly, letting the video play. The music that accompanies it is very coming-of-age, like a yearbook slideshow of all the pictures you took. Taehyung, Jimin and Seokjin hold their arms around each other in matching attire, looking like friends for life. There’s even some videos of you and Jungkook at the park, playfully arguing at each other. “I’m tired of seeing people who could care less about my life, who I can’t relate to.” 

“This issue is for the unsung heroes—my best friend’s older sibling, the captain of the football team, and the black sheep with a dream.” 

The video cuts to Jungkook, looking ultra cool at the camera while he’s dictating Seokjin’s moves. It was taken on your phone, and you’re zooming in on Jungkook’s serious face before it breaks into a laugh, eyes crinkling and bunny teeth showing at whatever stupid thing Seokjin said. 

And finally, the video fades into a mock cover. The five of you are beaming at the camera, cheek-to-cheek as you hold up the placard: Ego: Class of Youth. 

Needless to say, the issue is yours. 

You ignore Jennie’s icy stare as you leave the room to negotiate with the creative teams on a set schedule. However, it seems that you can’t get a bit of rest when Jennie waits for you in your office.

“Jennie, get off of my desk,” you frown, watching a coffin-tipped nail flicking against a photograph of you holding hands with Jungkook in the amusement park. It hangs on a corkboard, standing up with all the other ideas that you and Jungkook have spent the last week meticulously planning.The black enamel scratches at your smiling face. You are not having this, not after all your hard work and all the meetings that have just been planned. 

Her feet dangle in the air, kicking back and forth as she sings your name. “You’re still such a child,” she sighs dramatically. “In fact, I think your cute little-wittle idea would suit something more like Highlights or Disney Monthly.”

“You’re just upset I did better than you,” you cross your arms.

Jennie’s nail slices your visage in half. 

“You’re right,” Jennie turns a 180 and gives you a bright, candy-coated smile. “Your idea is so good, it doesn’t suit Ego. In fact, I’m sure the editors at Mono will pay a pretty penny.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Ugh, you are such a fake.” Jennie giggles, “now, did you send this idea to Namjoon yet? Their publishing date is two weeks before ours, so I’m sure they’re getting to work on this whole Throwback Thursday spread.” 

You can’t believe the words coming from Jennie’s mouth. Before all of this, just how awful of a person were you? How could you sabotage your company on the regular, just to get paid a little extra dough for a rival company? It makes you think about what could’ve possibly changed. Had leaving your friends without a care in the world made you into this lost adult, grappling at the seams for attention? In college, did Jennie coerce you into being manipulative and backstabbing, and because without Jimin and needing confidence in a friend, you reluctantly agreed?

The coffee from this morning starts to back up in your throat, but you immediately tamp it down. No, you can’t be pushed around like this. You can’t keep pushing people around. You don’t want a life like this, and if you ever return to your old life, you’ll damn make sure you’ll create a future without Jennie in the picture. 

“I’m not going to send anything to Mono, and I’ve already fessed up to Hoseok,” you lift your nose in the air, voice impeccably clear for someone who’s absolutely bluffing. But Jennie’s face hits the ground, immediately buying your lie. You suppose you did become a good actress after ten years. Maybe Seokjin taught you a few pointers. “So if I were you, I’d swallow your tongue before words get around. I worked it out but don’t be surprised if a pink slip comes your way.” 

Turns out that no matter what, high school never ends. There will always be backstabbers and freaks and geeks. A mean girl that you subconsciously try so hard to appease, a grade that defines your life, and drama up to the neck. 

“He doesn’t like you, y’know,” Jennie whispers, but the words are loud and clear and you know exactly who she’s talking about. “Never had, and never will.” 

“You’re wrong,” you hold your hands, clasping them together to keep them from trembling, “he likes me.” 

So you leave the office, determined to prove yourself. That kiss last night was nothing short of magical, and it took a lot of strength for you to not drive up to Jungkook’s apartment in the morning in the hopes for another one. You pick up a pizza near his place, filling it up with your favorite toppings on one half and his favorites on his. A bottle of peach champagne is nestled between your arms. In the bathroom while waiting for your pizza, you’ve wriggled out of your tight suit and into a blue hoodie and bicycle shorts. Tonight, you’re celebrating. 

You’re vibrating as you’re knocking eagerly on his front door, excited to tell him the news. You hear a rustle from the couch, and some blankets shifting about. He must’ve passed out after going to the bar, how cute. 

But when the door opens, the vision in front of you is far from cute.

A woman, with cat eyes and a slim figure, tilts her head at you. She’s dressed in a large white shirt, transparent enough to show her lacy black bra and panties. Bruises decorate her neck and thighs, like red and purple gems. Her long black hair swishes, slightly frizzy at the bottom. 

“Can I help you?” her voice is sultry and velvety. “Are you looking for JK?” 

It’s obvious as to what transpired. Jungkook dipped after kissing you and fucked another woman. A woman who’s the complete opposite of you. Someone flirty and sexy and willing to give Jungkook what he wants. You don’t know who you should be mad at. 

“Who’s at the door?” Jungkook calls from the inside, and you nearly drop your bottle at the sound of the rasp. They must’ve had a fuckfest if they’re just waking up now.

Your cheeks are burning. Your heart is aching. And the vile that bubbled up from Jennie’s tirade is now resurfacing. From the way your eyes are watering, you must look like a crybaby. 

“Say, JK,” the woman closes the frame tighter around her small head, preventing you from seeing inside and for Jungkook to peer, “do you have any pathetic ex-girlfriends?” 

“No,” comes the muffled reply, “come back to bed, it’s getting cold without you,” the pizza starts to burn uncomfortably against your grip, “why the random question?” 

“Dunno, seems like you’ve had at least one.” 

At that moment, your savior appears in grey jeans and a beige hoodie. Jimin walks up to the floor, clutching a bag of groceries. It’s not hard to put two and two together as he spots you looking incredibly small in front of the strange woman, trying so hard not to break down. 

Your tears finally fall when Jimin reaches you. “Wrong room,” you mutter under your breath, quickly following your old best friend when he shoves you in his apartment. 

No words need to be explained when Jimin leaves the groceries on the coffee table and he’s pulling you onto his lap. You clutch him like a koala, rubbing mascara and blush all over his clothes as you sob. He pats your back and soothes your hiccups by offering you a glass of water. The stages of your meltdowns are pretty cut and dry, even after ten years. He still encourages you to finish the whole glass. He makes sure you have something to eat. He cuts your pizza into little bite sized pieces and feeds you. He doesn’t pressure you to talk until you’re ready, although he has a hunch as to what’s going on. 

And when you talk, he doesn’t expect a firm, “Take me home,” from you. 

“O-okay,” Jimin agrees immediately, pulling you into a sitting position. “Uptown, right? We can call an Uber or something and order from a restaurant.” 

“No,” you reply firmly, “Home-home. I want to go back to my parent’s house.” 

“That’s fine too,” he squeezes your shoulder, accepting the fob you hold out to him, “it’ll take about an hour, but I think the drive will be nice.” 

So you two sneak off into the sunset, clutching twin slices of pizza as you roll away into your Tesla. Jimin is right, ten minutes into the drive and you’re soothed by his smooth driving and the scent of fried cheese and dough. Your friend has been calm all this time, so you figure this is the right time for him to pop off. Again, this is also part of your breakdown routine. 

“Say, does this thing do calls?” Jimin asks, fiddling with the settings on your steering wheel, “Tesla, call Jeon Jungkook.” 

“Jimin,” you say weakly, although the little malicious side of you wants to goad him on. You don’t bother to fight the best friend territorialism, you just watch as his hands clutch at the steering wheel as the speakers ring. 

Jungkook picks up on the second ring, “Hey!” he says brightly, and it makes your chest pang to know how oblivious he is, “how did the presentation go?” 

“Fuck you, Jungkook!” you cover your free hand on your ear at Jimin’s shrill yell, louder than the speakers that carry Jungkook’s voice. “Fuck you for breaking my best friend’s heart twice!” 

The silence is deafening. It’s scary, like you could slash a butter knife right through the tension. 

Jimin continues, “I can understand high school because you were a real doofus, but this! You fucking lead my best friend on, only to fuck another girl right under her nose! She came all the way to your apartment from a long-ass day at work to celebrate and you ruin that day! I thought you’ve grown for the better but turns out nothing has changed since prom night. You’re still the stupid, confused little boy that doesn’t want to admit how they really feel,” you gasp at the blow, watching Jimin’s gritted teeth as he zooms down the freeway on a mission. “Good fucking riddance, Jeon!” 

Jimin punches the “hang up” button. A couple seconds of heavy breathing, and he turns to you with a gentle smile. 

“So, you want to listen to Taylor Swift’s new album?” 

Your room is lost in time. The Hunger Games novels are stacked on your shelf, looking old and worn. A Glee poster hangs over your four-poster bed, the yellow and red faded and the corners hanging by a thread from the old tape. The sheets are a pale pink, ruffly and definitely not in style anymore. When you sit on it, it creaks uncomfortably. 

You hug yourself, tucking your knees in as Jimin marvels at the room with an equal amount of awe. 

“If you could, would you go back to high school?” Jimin asks, sitting at the edge of your bed. 

With a lazy shrug, you smile at your collection of polaroids that are hanging above your vanity. You’re still hurt, but the pain is no longer rolling in waves. “Maybe,” you reply, “probably would’ve taken you to Europe with me.” 

He chuckles, “Is that the only thing you would change?” 

“If I knew what I knew now?” you tilt your head, “I don’t know.” 

Jimin gets off your bed, pressing a kiss into your forehead. “I’m gonna raid the kitchen and see if we can make something for dinner, yeah? Since your parents are on vacation and your fridge is probably empty, don’t  judge me if there’s only Totino’s pizza rolls and nuggets in the freezer.” 

When Jimin leaves your room, you quietly close the door and lock it. You lean against the cracked wooden door, falling onto the carpet and letting the tears fall. Is this what the rest of your life is going to be like? Evading pain and working too hard and trying everyday to stay afloat? Is adult life always going to be this difficult?  

These past two weeks have been nothing short of a rollercoaster. Major highs and major lows, and after today you thought you reached the end of the ride. However, it’s looking like the ride has no destination in mind, rolling in waves and finding a new hill or loop to catch you off-guard. 

“Are you kidding—how did you know we were here?” Another corkscrew. 

“You’re a turtle on the road, Jimin. Now move out of the way.” 

Jungkook’s voice startles you, and you tense when you see the gold door knob jiggle. Of course as strong as Jimin is, he’s no match for Jungkook. You hear Jimin grumble to curse Jungkook out, and the sound of him stomping down the stairs. 

“Hey, open up. Please,” Jungkook’s voice is weak and strained, and you only hug yourself tighter as the knocks continue. “Or, don’t. It seems like you can listen to me perfectly from here. I can hear your breathing.” 

You don’t say a peep, preferring to let everything fizzle out. Hopefully Jungkook will give up, say a pathetic sorry and be on his merry way. You don’t know why he’s followed you all the way over here, why would he bother coming when the damage is already done. 

There’s a slide of fabric across wood, and you can feel the door shake against your back as Jungkook leans on his side out in the hallway. 

“Back in high school, Jennie proposed that I date you to get back at you for stealing Jennie’s sewing sample and getting the higher grade,” you close your eyes, letting the story unravel. “She wanted to build you up before breaking you down, and back then I was vulnerable and thrived on attention, so I thought nothing of it.” 

You hear a breathy exhale from his side, as if it pains him to continue, “But obviously, it wasn’t true and I only realized it until I was way too deep. I liked you, so much. Heck, I think I might’ve loved you. We were so wrapped up in this relationship I even convinced myself it was real, until Jennie said she’d crush you at prom night.

“I should’ve tried harder to convince us not to go. I should’ve told Jennie to fuck off. I should’ve come clean. I should’ve done something,” his fist bangs against your door, the vibrations of the impact thrumming in your back, “seeing you so beautiful in that dress all heartbroken because I didn’t act sooner. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Hearing him pour his heart out is like watching your memories in his shoes. The pieces find homes and paint a picture left unfinished. 

“And then when you showed up at my doorstep, I was so angry. I knew you felt it. But I wasn’t upset at you, I was upset at myself. I felt so fucking guilty. I hated how easy it was for you to let me back into your life. I hated how easy it was to fall for you all over again. I knew how much I didn’t deserve your forgiveness, but you gave it to me and I was too selfish to refuse. I had so much fun, the most fun I’ve had in awhile. 

“I’m sorry I kissed you. I didn’t intend for it to I just, I couldn’t help myself. And then I was so scared that I turned away and made the second biggest regret to date.

“But it proves that we’re not meant to be together. I don’t deserve you,” the last part is hushed, a nail in the coffin, “we can’t turn back the time, but if I could I would change it all. I would be by your side and make your world even better than it is right now. I’m sorry it’s too late.” 

You clutch your mouth, suppressing the cries that muffle through the door. You hear Jungkook get up from your old carpet, turn the other way and head downstairs. 

Your first love just closed the chapter for you. His words show how much he cared for you, but didn’t know how to express it. How immature he was, how he realized everything too late. And now, he wants to set you free. Even if it is a good thing, it still tears you to shreds. 

Moving to your vanity, you pull out the chair and lean your head on the table, eyes poking through your hair. You look awful. The skin under your waterline is puffy and your eyes are red and bloodshot. Your forearms feel greasy, and you lift them up to reveal glitter painting the entirety of your skin. Your eyes dart to the open glitter, the package that Jimin gifted to you that fateful prom night. The compact is broken in half and left on the table, probably a product of your younger cousins fiddling through your old room. 

Ignoring the sticky feeling, you let yourself continue to cry. You feel like you’re stuck in the bathroom of the prom venue, waiting for an opportunity to sneak out and go. 

But you want nothing more than to go back to that moment. As amazing as your twenty-seven year old life is, you’re not ready for it. You don’t want a life without Jungkook, or a life having to constantly catch up and mend your relationship with Jimin. You don’t want to be the backstabbing bitch that tips off other magazines, or the two-faced woman who messes around with others for the sake of pleasure.

You long to go back. You long to live and grow. To be seventeen and have time to grow in-between. 

When you lift your head from your vanity, you’re ten years younger.

You scream. 

Your parents dash to your room with a kitchen knife and a confused face. With a wary smile and a teary gaze you say that it’s only a pimple. Your mother giggles and drops the knife, hugging you and helping you conceal the invisible mark. The hug is so warm and so missed that you nearly sigh in content. You’ve missed them. 

It’s a little strange to think well beyond your years, your brain still reeling from the trip you’ve just had. Your hands smooth over your body, the previous curves and maturity hidden away in your skin. That’s okay, you don’t mind waiting anymore. There’s much more important things at hand. 

If Jungkook isn’t going to realize his mistakes until it’s too late, you have to speed up the process. 

Stealing your parent’s keys and hopping in your Accord, you drive off to Jungkook’s. Hair and makeup not done, and still in your plain shirt and jeans. An hour from now, Jungkook will text you saying his car is down and he’ll meet you at the venue. 

It’s still rush hour, so he doesn’t notice when you park a few houses down. He’s sitting on his front porch, looking out the road. There’s really nothing in front of him, he’s just staring aimlessly, probably nervous about what’s about to go down tonight. You suppress a sigh, engraving the vision to memory. He looks great in his fitted black suit and tie, a little silver pocket square on the breast to match your dress. 

He gets up quickly when he sees you, as if caught in the act. Staring at your plain clothes he asks, “Bun, why aren’t you dressed? Prom’s soon—”

“Jungkook, I want to break up.” 

You see it in his eyes. Vulnerability. No longer do you feel insecure, the future told you that Jungkook genuinely did care for you back then. Or in this case, right now. His usual cheery expression crumples at your feet, and his hands fall at his sides. It feels a little unfair, knowing that you have experience under your belt, and Jungkook’s experiencing these feelings for the first time, unprepared. 

“What?” he wilts, “why?” 

“I know about Jennie’s plan,” you say instantly, unfazed. You give him a tight-lipped smile when realization hits his face. “So I know this whole relationship is orchestrated. The sewing sample fiasco is wrong, obviously. But I’m not going to get mad at you, I know she played you as much as she played me,” you clasp the straps of your purse, stopping you from fidgeting, “we graduate in a few months anyway. We don’t have to see or talk about this ever again. You should go enjoy your prom night with your other friends.” 

The present-day Jungkook is still young and confused. He’s at a loss, looking like he’s on sensory overload as he absorbs all the information. You see his eyes flicker to where your Accord is parked, your prom dress hanging on one of the arm pulls. You never even pulled it out of the bag. 

“Here,” you pull his corsage from your purse, placing the white rose atop the porch. If you try to put it on him, you fear you may never leave. With a determined huff, you turn around in the direction of your car.

“Where are you going?” he asks, clutching the railing of his porch, “what about prom?” 

“I have other plans,” you shrug over your shoulder, “have a good night.” 

You don’t look back, although you feel Jungkook’s stare burning in your head. You take great care in going into drive and punching in a new destination in your clunky GPS. This time you have to do things one at a time, once you get your Tesla ten years from now, you’re sure this process will be much easier. 

Jimin’s family comes out of the airport, looking impeccable as always. Ten years younger, with puffy cherub cheeks and bright eyes. To your surprise (but also all things considered, it’s Jimin), your best friend comes out in a three-piece suit. It’s burgundy, and suits his dark hair well. He places his luggage into your car, hugs his family good-bye and waits for them to depart in their cab. 

“You are all dressed up, and for what,” you chuckle, driving out of the airport.

“Well, when you sent that voicemail that you’d be waiting for me, I changed in the bathroom,” Jimin quips, already fiddling with your radio to play some poppy overplayed music, “but why aren’t you dressed? I thought we were going to be fashionably late to prom. Spill.”

“Hm, let’s talk about it in the morning. I wanna enjoy my prom night,” and you reach over to ruffle Jimin’s soft black strands, “y’know, you’d look really sexy as a blond.” 

He pulls down your mirror, positioning it over his face. Pursing his plush lips, he tilts his head. “Yeah, maybe when I’m older,” he grins at his reflection, “so if we’re not going to prom, let’s go get pizza.” 

So the two of you get pizza. But not before you take your prom pictures. Your parents meet you at the park with their old digital camera, ready for your impromptu photoshoot. Jimin uses an old tarp to cover the car up while you change in the car, shimmying in your sparkly silver tulle dress. Your hair is held up and away from your face, looking clean enough to be presentable as you pose for the camera. The two of you pick yellow dandelions from the grass, matching flowers as last minute dates. Your parents coo and are happy for you, knowing that even if you don’t attend the actual dance, the pictures will last forever and you’ll smile at them for years. 

Eventually you tell Jimin about Jungkook and the whole fiasco (sans the ten year mental time jump.) The reaction is expected, Jimin says he wants to fuck Jungkook up. Surprisingly for him, he doesn’t have to do much to console you. In fact, you sip coolly from your smoothie and say Jungkook will probably let Jimin get a punch in even though Jungkook can bench press his tiny body in half. But you tell him you’re okay, and all you want to do is go home and binge watch. 

Jimin carries the pie in his lap while you pull up your driveway. The smell of toasty cheese and fresh dough fill your car. 

“I want to watch Sky City,” Jimin sing-songs, “Kim Seokjin is God’s gift!” 

You crinkle your nose, “He’s alright.” 

“What! You thought he was so hot like, last week.” 

“Things change.” 

Jimin makes it to your room first, saying he’ll take care of setting things up. He’ll probably steal all the available cushions and make a fort for himself while he puts a picnic blanket on the floor in front of your television. You can imagine him hogging all your stuffed animals, placing it on his side of the carpet while he rifles through your drawers so he can change out of his suit. 

Your parents tell you to take out the trash before you have fun tonight. Careful not to get your dress dirty, you hold it away from your body as you waddle out the front door. You make it two steps into the driveway before the soggy trash bag is whisked from your hands.

“I got it,” Jungkook says quietly, and it takes little to no effort for him to haul the large bag into the waiting trash can. His shoulders are slumped under his white button-up, his suit jacket probably stuffed somewhere in the back of the car. 

“Jungkook,” you reply, dumbfounded, “it’s only eight, prom isn’t even over yet.” 

“I know… but then I realized you weren’t gonna get your money’s worth if you didn’t go. I asked the waitress if she could get me a doggie bag for my date and,” he holds up a stapled bag, presumably the dinner that was supposed to be served, “it’s your favorite.” 

“Thank you,” you give him a small, grateful smile as you accept the bag. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re here.” 

He bites his lip, stuffing his hands in his dress pockets. “A-and you told me before you left that I should go spend prom night with my friends,” he ruffles his hair, blown out of the pomade and falling into his eyes, “and then I realized that you were right. Jennie and all those people out there aren’t really my friends. They like my rep and they like my attention, but they don’t like me.” 

You shake your head, “Jungkook, you’re very likable. Jennie and her group are just one bad bunch.” 

“But I don’t wanna be liked by my rep. I wanna be liked for the things I love,” he steps a hesitant step towards you, and he relaxes when he sees that you don’t recoil, “I haven’t told anyone this. But I want to drop that sports scholarship. I applied to an art school, and I got in.” 

Suppressing a grin with a bite of your lips, you cheer silently in your head. Things are changing. “I’m so happy for you, Jungkook. Congrats.” 

“And I’m sorry for all the fucked up things I did. Jennie may have manipulated me but I definitely was a big part of it,” Jungkook pulls the words out of the sky, finally having enough time to formulate an apology, “but please don’t doubt for a second that my feelings are fake. I really like you, and I wish we got to know each other under better circumstances.”

“I wish we could’ve,” you echo sadly. “But our futures—” 

“I don’t want to lose you.” 

“I liked you, so much. Heck, I think I might’ve loved you.”

You shake your head, frowning at his kicked puppy expression. “I’m considering a fashion school in Europe,” you reach for Jungkook’s hand, squeezing it. Letting him know that everything’s going to be okay. “You and Jimin can visit me during the breaks, Europe has some great spots to photograph.” 

Something in Jungkook’s gaze tells you that it’s not enough for him. He wants to be selfish and hold onto you tighter, but you know that’s not good for the both of you right now. “That’d be nice,” he says vaguely, giving you a pained smile. 

Jungkook rubs his thumb over your hand, relishing in the softness of your skin. “You look really pretty,” he says, looking forlornly over the dress. He can only imagine how ethereal you’d look under the fairy lights that decorated the venue, “I wish we could’ve had one dance.” 

You shrug, “The night’s still young,” you gesture to the space in the driveway, and the lights that overhead the garage. 

The slow Taylor Swift music that plays from his pocket is muffled, but it doesn’t deter either of you as he places his hands on your waist and you wrap his around his neck. You’re wearing your bunny house slippers and Jungkook’s neck is moist from his nervous sweats, but you know that this memory will be engraved in your brain for years to come. 

It feels good to know that from now on, you don’t have to be so concerned about the future now that you’ve had a taste of it. All you want now is to take it one day at a time. At this moment the, the only thing you want to do is focus on how you’re going to hold onto Jungkook for the last time. At least for now, who knows what will happen in the future. 

“I really want to kiss you, Bun,” he leans in, foreheads touching, “but I don’t deserve it.” 

“You’re right,” you tease, “you don’t.” 

He frowns playfully, “Ouch. But fair.” 

Yet you figure you’ve made enough headway these past few weeks, and you deserve to be a little selfish. One last kiss, you think to yourself. Your fingers flatten against the pressed material of his collar, meeting in the middle to clutch Jungkook’s slim black tie. Jungkook bites his lip, looking down at you for permission. With the tiniest of nods, you get on your tippy toe toes you lean forward and you can smell the apple cider lingering on his lips—

“Ohmygod—are you broken up or not!” both of you whip your heads up to see Jimin hanging over your open window, looking absolutely bored. His arms dangle over your sill, wearing a frayed high school jumper. “Either tell him to get lost or invite him over to watch television because I’m hungry!” 

You pull away from him fully, squeezing his biceps. “Want pizza?” 

He shakes his head, “I think it’s a trap. Jimin’s waiting for me to come up so he can rip my head off,” he gives a tentative wave to the second floor, but Jimin just scoffs and goes back inside, “but I’ll see you Monday.” 

“Okay. Good night, Kook.” 

“Good night, Bun.” 

Your heart pinches a little as you watch him drive away. Before, you knew what the end game was between you two. It didn’t end pretty. Now, you’re not so sure. At the very least, it isn’t ending on a sour note. 

Some time later.

“Your majesty,” you give her a practiced smile, taking careful measures not to brush the lady’s shoulders too hard in the fear she’ll whittle away, “emerald is an impeccable color on you.” 

The Queen of England (the McDuckin' Queen of England!) just laughs at you and waves you off. You can’t believe you’re photographing a real queen. This is like the childhood equivalent of meeting Malibu Barbie. You thank every single choice and mistake you’ve made in your entire life that has brought you up to this impeccable moment. She’s a vision, you could cry. In fact, you’ll cry later in the comfort of your hotel room. “Do you think the photographer will take long?” she asks, frowning, “I have drinks with my friends in an hour.” 

You smirk, pleased to know she’s still kicking it in her golden years. “Yeah, just so long as my husband doesn’t get distracted. Fifteen minutes, tops.” 

“I’m not distracted,” Jungkook huffs, pulling away from his tripod. He gives up on trying to stabilize the camera, instead preferring to go freehand for this one. He gives you an incredulous look, hands on his hips, “I have two queens in my viewfinder and I only got room for one. Get out of the shot, Bun.” 

With a playful roll of your eyes, you step away from the lady of the hour to let Jungkook do his thing. He’s right in his element, blurting choreographed poses and telling the lighting people to move at his beck and call to get the perfect angle. You stand a distance behind him, letting him take control. 

“I’m so hungry,” your whisper is low enough to blend between the jazz music, but loud enough for Jungkook’s ears to listen in, “please tell me you’re almost done.” 

“Oui, oui.” 

“Wrong language, Kook. Please don’t offend anyone,” and discreetly, you take one step closer in your Tory Burch flats, “did you get any candids of me and the Queen?” 

“Duh, Bun,” you can’t see his face but you know he’s grinning, “Jimin will faint.” 

"Oh, yes! Thank you, I love you," you gush, reaching over to discreetly pinch his butt. 

He shakes his head, looking over his shoulder to give you a brief smirk, "Show me how thankful you are tonight." 

So silly, you think. It's amazing how well you work together as two separate entities of a photoshoot yet share a brain cell in the presence of each other. In another world, Jungkook said if given the chance, he'd be by your side and make your world a better place. 

Ten years later, it's exactly that and more. 

[lavenderjacobs]

fluff alphabet - Sapnap

➳ wc; 2,1K (she’s a long one lol)  ➳ pronouns; gender neutral<3 ➳ song reccomendation; heart eyes - coin

A=Attractive (What do they find most attractive in a partner?)

nick’s an ass guy and you can’t convince me otherwise. he’s also just loves your thighs and your stomach. he loves how soft your skin is, and how good you smell. whenever he’s sad he just rests his head on your stomach while you tangle you fingers in his hair. 

B=Best memory (Their favourite memory of you)

he cherishes your first kiss so much. he just has such a soft spot for that memory. the moment he finally found out you felt the same about him, the moment he finally found out what your lips against his felt like. it’s just something he had looked forward to for forever, and to him, it was perfect. 

C=Cuddles  (What type of cuddles do they like?)

sapnap is a WHORE for cuddles. if it where up to him, you two would just lay in bed all day, tangled in each other’s arms. after a long day, he just wants to hold his favourite person and fall asleep with them, so he just wraps his arms around your waist while he uses your chest as a pillow. but if he’s in a chatty mood, he’ll just talk your ears off, ranting about something he finds interesting, while you’re all snuggled up in the crook between his neck and shoulder. 

D=Dirty mind (Do they have a dirty mind?)

I mean, come on. it’s sapnap. we all know he does. he gets *excited* very easily, which can sometimes get in the way when you two are just trying to cuddle. he just has such a soft spot for your body and has to have his way with you once certain ideas have entered his mind. 

E=Effort (How much effort do they put in the relationship?)

nick would definitely try his best. honestly you don't care if his plans actually turn out the way he intented them to, it's the thought that counts. and nick knows that. but theres just something about you that makes him want to spoil you and treat you like a princess. so prepare yourself for fancy dates, him making you your favorite food, all that type of stuff.

F=First date (What was your first date together)

arcade date arcade date arcade date. sap is super competitive and I feel like he would thrive in an arcade. he would play it off like he was just trying to proof how good he was at the arcade games. but he'd just love to see how hard you would be trying to beat him. obviously he'd let you win a lot, and when he collected enough tickets, he would get you the biggest prize he could find.

G=Gentle (How gentle are they with you?)

it....depends???? lmao. nick CAN be super gentle with you, he’s pretty protective of you and would never want you to get hurt, so he’s definitely very careful not to do anything to hurt you. but sometimes his instinct just kinda takes over and well, he can get pretty rough. 

H=Hands (Do they have nice hands?)

hmmm nick has like,,very manly hands,, if you know what i mean. i dont know, they're just so rough but yet so pretty??? and they're like really big compared to yours so when he holds ur hand, yours looks so tiny in his. and omg he won't shut up about it. "LOOK AT YOUR HANDS THEY'RE SO SMALL🥺"

I=Impression (What was their first impression?)

he just thought you were so ~cool~. like he immediately knew he wanted to be your friend. he was just so in awe of how funny, chill and charismatic you were. and it literally took two days for him to develop a crush on you. his friends would notice this right away and tease him about it so much omg.

J=Jealousy (Do they get jealous often? If so what do they do?)

YUP. nick gets jealous so easy yup yup yup. jealousy, protectiveness, possessiveness, you name it. you two would often get in fights about this, but most of the time you would just think it’s cute how riled up he gets. he doesn’t get mad at you (because you’re his precious little baby and can do no wrong in his eyes :D) but god help the souls of whoever tries to flirt with you, because they’ve got a hell of a storm coming.

K=Kisses (What type of kisses do they like/give?)

god nick’s such a passionate kisser. or at least he can be lol. he loves the way your face fits into his hands, and how soft your lips are. so he definitely is a fan of just some wholesome passionate kisses. but damn this man gets sloppy when he wants to. his lips constantly trails off to your jaw, neck and collar bones.

L=Love  (Do they show their love?)

i feel like his love language would be like a mix between words of affection and physical touch??? he’s definitely very verbal with his love for you. he doesn’t shy away from saying i love you or letting you know how much he appreciates you in any other way.

M=Memory: (Their favourite memory in general?)

there are certain moments where nick just sits back, watches, and realizes how amazing his life is. and how grateful he is to have you. for example, you were playing minecraft on his pc, and your house kept getting blown up by creepers, he found it adorable how mad you got every time. he just watched you play, while sitting on his bed. after a while, you looked over at him, and caught him staring. “what?” you asked after letting out a soft chuckle. he felt like he was gonna explode from how much he loved you. 

N=Nickname  (What nicknames do they call you?)  

i’m getting very strong “baby” and “doll” vibes from nick. he loves baby-ing you and smothering you with other loving nicknames. just any petnames that show how much he loves you he’s all for. he would also love calling you “pretty” or “beautiful” for obvious reasons. 

O=Over  (What happened the one time you ‘broke up’?)

nick HATES fighting with you, but once you two get into an argument he can get pretty carried away. he’s definitely the type to let his emotions get the upper hand on him. raising his voice a lot, stuff like that. but the second you leave to get some space he just breaks down. sliding down the wall and resting his face in his hands, just letting all the emotions out. he never meant to hurt you. when you came back to him, ready to be enclosed in his arms again, he had a hard time letting you back in. he just felt like he didn’t deserve you after he treated you like this. it took some convincing, but once you broke down his walls again, it was like he gave you all the love in his body. just smothering you with “i’m sorry”s and kisses. 

P=Parents (What would they be like as a parent?)

dilfnap dilfnap dilfnap  omg he’d be such a good dad. like just very caring and loving, but also strict and stern when he needs to be. he’d constantly be telling stories to the kids about the absurd adventures him and his friends would get into, and omg the dad jokes he’d make. idk maybe it’s my daddy issues but dad sapnap lives in my mind rent free. 

Q=Quirk (Something special about them)

he loves holding your hand. especially in public. if you’re in a crowded space, he just holds onto you very tightly as not to lose you. or if you two are just going on a walk together, his hands would just feel so warm and soft around yours. and omg he loves it when his hands are in his pockets, and you put your hands in there with him, and intertwine your fingers with his. hmmm he gets so soft when you do that.

R=Romantic (How romantic are they?)

i- uh- I MEAN HE WOULD TRY he really would, and again, that’s all that matters. I feel like he would be the type to try to prepare a whole surprise dinner, he would cook all the food himself, he would set the table all cute, with candles and shit, but just completely ruin the surprise by accidentally giving it all away by saying something or just behaving very obviously suspicious. 

S=Sad (What are they like when they’re sad?)

he just gets really quiet. he would never want to bother you or be a pain in the ass by complaining to you. but obviously you notice when something is wrong with ur bby boy. a sentence like “are you okay?” or “what’s wrong?” would immediately send him over the edge, burying his face in your chest, trying his best to supress his sobs. but he eventually calms down, and once he does, he’s able to just rant to you about whatever is bothering him.

T=Together (What are they like when you’re together?)

i feel like it would really depend on his mood, like he could be either SUPER chill, just wanting to savour the time you two had together. or he could be really hyper, constantly talking, wanting to do all kinds of activities with you. he’d be the literal definition of :D

U=Understanding (How understanding and empathetic are they?)

very. i just get such empathetic vibes from him. he’s such a good listener and he’ll just listen to you talk whenever you have something to be upset about. he never invalidates your feelings and omg he’d give the best advice. 

V=Value (What do they value most about the relationship?)

he loves that he can 100% be his self around you. there’s no part of his personality that he feels like he has to hide, or tone down, whenever he’s with you. you also aspire him to be his best self, he just wants to be the best boyfriend in the world. all his friends have noticed this too, you bring out the best in him.

W=Wedding (Would they want marriage? If so what would they like?)

eh. if you’re a person who really values marriage, he’d 100% do it for you. but it’s not like he HAS to. he gets a bit scared by the idea of this whole big event, where everything is about you two, he would way rather celebrate the love you two have in the comfort of your own home, just the two of you. the one thing he would love about a wedding, would be seeing you all dolled up, walking down the aisle, omg he’d be the proudest man ever to be able to call you his.

X=X-Ray (How well can they read you?)

the SECOND you start to feel sad or depressed in any way, nick notices immediately. he knows you better than anybody else, and he knows exactly what to do to cheer you up. it’s like his superpower. if you’re feeling anxious he’ll just wrap his arms around you really tightly, holding on to you until you calm down. and when you’re sad, and in need for something to cheer you up, he’ll take you outside for a walk in the park, or he’ll just sit in bed with you, watching your favourite show. 

Y=Yuck (What they would never want in a partner)

he hates when you flirt with his friend, even when you’re very obviously joking. his jealous ass can’t deal with that lmao. he also gets super pissed when his friends make flirtatious jokes towards you, they know how much it gets on his nerves and that’s really the only reason they do it. but omg he gets so pissed when it happens. 

Zzz (How do they sleep around you?)

nick would be the cutest sleeper ever omg. he doesn’t like to admit it, but he loves being little spoon. he loves resting his head on your chest, while you play with his hair, patiently waiting for him to fall asleep. 

[monokyokyo]

Hellish Delights | Woosan

Pairing: Sub!San, Top Wooyoung,

Warning: Overstimulation, Demon San, handjob, San refers to himself in third-person, slight pet play

Realistically, most would be afraid to start a relationship with a demon. Let alone be near one. Yet it was never something that turned Wooyoung away. San was sweet and one of the most caring people he had ever met. Though he had his moments of less than favourable tendencies, Wooyoung didn’t care. He adored his boyfriend, demon or otherwise.

For the most part, San was rather soft. He would never do anything to hurt Wooyoung and if he did do anything that may irritate him remotely, he would break out in a fit of apologies.

So it isn’t much of a surprise that Wooyoung’s often the one praying for some sort of attention. Of course, San was always willing to cuddle, but that wasn’t what Wooyoung wanted. He craved intimacy, to be touched and loved by his boyfriend. Yet San was always too afraid to do anything like that.

Though, that didn’t mean San didn’t have needs as well.

It was late in the day, around half past four, and Wooyoung was sitting at the desk in his room. He would sit in San’s but he had been acting clingy and knew he wouldn’t get much homework done if he stayed in there. The teen twirled his cherry lollipop in his mouth, pondering over the set of math equations in front of him. “Useless things…” He thought to himself, bitterly clutching his pen in his right hand while glaring at the paper.

The boy was too busy grumbling under his breath to notice his door slowly slide open. However, his attention was quickly driven away when he felt a pair of arms snake around his neck. Wooyoung’s surprise melted into delight when he realised who it was. “Sannie~” He whined playfully. “I told you I had a lot of homework to get done.”

“I know,” The demon replied, stretching the syllables of his words in a somewhat whiny tone. “But I missed you.”

“It’s only been twenty minutes,” Chuckled Wooyoung. “You couldn’t have missed me that much.”

“You’d be surprised,” Was the demon’s low response. His tone alone managed to send shivers down the younger males spine. Wooyoung knew all too well what he wanted.

“San, I’m busy.” He heard the demon hum, hands roaming his chest while his face lay just beside Wooyoung’s. He swore he would’ve melted right then and there from his touch. His hands felt so warm and his scent was just so intoxicating. He wanted nothing more than to let San do as he pleased with him. However, he was determined to stay firm in his stance. “No.” He stated simply, the single word startling San.

“No?” He repeated in disbelief. “But…”

“No, San. I’ve got homework to do. Maybe later, okay?” Now normally, that would be the end of it. San would leave the room, albeit a little moody, and Wooyoung would get on with things. Today though, the demon wasn’t in his usual mood.

He crouched to his knees and rested his head on the human’s thigh. “Wooyoungie~” The younger rose his brow at the way he whined, looking up at him with his big eyes. His heart churned at such a sight and he would be insane to deny him now.

So, Wooyoung sighed, gently taking the demon’s face into his hand and stroking his soft cheek. “So needy today~ What do you want, Sannie?”

“You, I want you, Woo.” That surprised the younger. Though he supposed he shouldn’t be so shocked based on the state the demon had slipped into. It’s just that usually, San was on top. Seems today may be the exception. Yet something about that made him smirk.

“Alright then Sannie, I’ll treat you well. Don’t worry. Strip for me.” San understood exactly what he meant and slipped out of his shirt. He kept his eyes on Wooyoung, eyeing his every movement while they undid their clothes. The demon would never get tired of seeing his boyfriend’s perfect curves of his plump ass, always begging to be grabbed.

That would have to wait for later though, as San had sat himself on the bed, awaiting Wooyoung’s next move.

What started as a gentle peck on the lips gradually fell into a messy battle for dominance that the demon easily won. San pushed his tongue past the soft barriers of Wooyoung’s mouth, savouring the sweet taste of cherry from his sugary treat. The blonde couldn’t help but moan into the kiss, soon whining when his lover trailed to his neck. “Mm, Sannie~”

“You like that baby?” He chuckled against the younger’s skin when a light gasp left him. The sound alone made Wooyoung grow flushed.

“I thought I was supposed to take care of you. What happened?” The almost pout San received made him laugh once again. With a shrug, he shifted to spread his legs, Wooyoung quickly catching on.

The blonde licked his lips at the sight of his member, sprung up proud, nearly salivating at it. “All for me~”

“Woo~ Hurry up! I don’t wanna w- hng!” The warm feeling of Wooyoung’s mouth engulfing his length zipped his lips within seconds, becoming weak the moment they made contact. “Oh fuck Wooyoung…”

The younger’s tongue slid across the base of his dick, eliciting a moan of euphoria from his boyfriend. San’s hand found its way into Wooyoung’s blonde locks, gripping them with every suck. He found himself wincing at how hard he would pull but didn’t have it in him to care. Not when he knew he was making his lover feel this good.

Fuck, he's so sensitive.

Wooyoung could feel the demon’s member twitch in his mouth yet continued to suck, regardless of how much he gagged. Even still, he didn’t want to see San cum just yet.

“Ah~ W-Wooyoung…”

Wooyoung detached with a light pop, plush lips glistening with the precum dripping from San’s tip. The smile on his face was innocent despite this, as he tilted his head to the side in an almost taunting manner. “What’s wrong Sannie? Want me to stop?”

The way the demon shook his head made Wooyoung smirk. It was entertaining how much power he held over someone who could destroy the city if he so desired. Yet here he was, panting and pleading for this human’s every touch.

It was delightful.

Kisses peppered San’s waistband, each lustful touch causing him to arch his back as he whined for more. These simple prods had him withering with impatience but more apparently, neediness.

He felt the way Wooyoung pinched folds of his skin between his teeth, sucking and licking every spot to leave a beautiful bruise for tomorrow.

San's cock, neglected and begging for touch, thrived on every action, sending shivers of pleasure down the demon's spine. He needed more.

“Wooyoungie~ Please~”

“Please what, Sannie?” Wooyoung replied, head now resting on the mattress. His sudden distance seemed to make San stressed, fearing he may be left like this - hot and unsatisfied.

“I need more~”

A thoughtful hum came from the younger. San tensed when he finally felt a hand wrap around his girth. The strokes were slow, painfully slow. "My Sannie is so needy, isn't he?" San nodded once more, whispering under his breath for Wooyoung to go faster.

He didn't. In fact, he went even slower, stopping almost entirely until he got an answer. "Y-Yes! I'm needy!"

Finally, Wooyoung giggled. He kept moving his hand up and down his boyfriend's length while he travelled to his neck. San couldn't help but moan from the vast amount of pleasure as he was jerked and as more hickeys were plastered on his body.

"Sannie is so sensitive too, isn't he?"

"Yes, S-S…" he bit his bottom lip, refusing to submit entirely. Yet this refusal made Wooyoung halt all action.

San hated being teased. He didn't like having to wait to get what he wanted and it took every ounce of restraint he had to keep himself from taking over Wooyoung's mind and making him continue.

Yet the pure look of apathy he received, caused something to shift in him. It was clear Wooyoung knew he wouldn't last. When the demon began to sniff, light tears of frustration running down his cheeks, the blonde smirked.

"So greedy. Sannie is so desperate for me, isn't he?"

"Yes!" He finally wailed. "Sannie is greedy! Sannie wants Wooyoungie to touch him so badly!" Those words alone were enough to have Wooyoung smash their lips together, barely giving him a moment to breathe.

San gasped at the way his cock was pulled, jerked at a speed that made him whimper. "Wooyoungie~" he moaned, earning nothing but another smirk from the younger.

"Does Sannie like this? Does he like it when I handle him this way?" The demon could only groan in response, fist clenching around the fabrics of the sheets to distract himself from the immense pleasure. "Cutie~ Sannie has so much power but is so weak for me."

"P-Please let Sannie cum! Please please please!"

"What a mess you're making," he softly scolded, ignoring the demon's request. Such a thing made San quiver. He pleaded for Wooyoung to let him cum but the other refused to acknowledge it.

All that pressure came piling over when the demon released in Wooyoung's hand. And though San sighed with relief, his boyfriend was less than pleased. "Did I say you could cum?"

"N-No but…"

"But nothing. That was very bad Sannie." The demon looked down, as if he were a puppy being scolded by his owner. Even with his adorable expression, Wooyoung didn't let up, despite how much he wanted to shower the older in kisses and praise. “Now I have to punish you.”

If San wasn’t whimpering before, he certainly was now. Wooyoung crawled over him, leaning over the taller and grinning at his lost expression. He hovered his rear just over the demon’s length, lining it perfectly. “W-Woo…”

“Shhh, relax puppy.” Sinking onto his member, Wooyoung hissed under his breath. Perhaps he should’ve prepped first. The pain would fade soon enough. He started slow, bouncing only slightly which still elicited light moans from the older, who felt Wooyoung clench around him.

However, Wooyoung slowed down when San pressed his face against his bare chest, hearing him sniffle. “What’s wrong, Sannie?”

“N-Not ready. Please go slow…” Wooyoung had to remind himself that this was meant to be a punishment. Yet San’s light cries made him soft.

“Okay Sannie, I’ll let you adjust first.” After all, it was the first time he had ever ridden the demon before. Even with their close contact, San craved more. His lips parted, insinuating their desire for attention. Attention Wooyoung gratefully gave him. Tongue pushing the plush barriers and snaking into the wet cavern of his lover’s mouth. San sighed into the kiss, hands moving towards Wooyoung’s waist. Knowing he was happily distracted, the blonde resumed his movements.

He broke their kiss to gasp, eyes clamping shut from pleasure. “Oh Sannie~” He groaned out. Instinctively, the demon’s hand travelled to Wooyoung’s ass, gripping and kneading the soft flesh to his content. Yet he was stopped when his arms were pushed back. “Punishment, remember?” The blonde rasped out. “No touching.”

“Wooyoungie~”

This time, he wouldn’t go soft. “No touching,” He repeated, tone much more commanding this time. “And don’t cum until I say so.”

Begrudgingly, San did what he was told. Keeping his hands to the side while Wooyoung bounced on his cock. The demon mewled beneath him, fueling the human to go faster. And though he moaned and groaned with every move, it couldn’t compare to the weak pants of San, who kept as still as possible.

He wanted to touch Wooyoung. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to hold him and smother him with affection. Wooyoung could see his restraint clearly, as the demon’s eyes brightened with their usual purple colour. So he made sure to praise him, just to make sure he wouldn’t become too frustrated.

“What a good boy you are Sannie, listening so well.”

“I-Is Sannie doing good?” Peeped the demon, interrupted by his own strained breaths.

“So good, baby.”

“Can Sannie get a kiss? Please!”

“Not yet,” A part of Wooyoung felt like being a brat. He knew he shouldn’t keep edging him on like this but he just couldn’t help it. He adored how submissive San would become for him. He relished in the idea that he had power over a demon. The thought alone had him aroused beyond belief.

It wasn’t long, however, before Wooyoung was reminded who had the real power here. Wooyoung gasped when a hand engulfed his neck, snatching him lower. He winced at the way San’s eyes glowed violently, his grip becoming tighter by the second.

The way he gagged had the demon grinning until he brought their lips together. Though Wooyoung was too shocked to even consider kissing back, their contact seemed to relax San enough to where he let go of his neck.

“No more teasing,” He whispered.

Wooyoung nodded at him, hand slowly tracing his disturbed neck, as it began to sting ever so slightly. He looked to his boyfriend, expecting him to take control and slowly attempted to move. Yet San kept his hips firm, much to Wooyoung’s bewilderment. “Please don’t stop,” He pleaded in a small voice. The kind Wooyoung knew he only used when he was a sub.

“You scared me for a moment, puppy.” Said the blonde with a weak chuckle.

“Sannie is sorry, Sannie is sorry! Sannie didn’t mean it! Please forgive him!”

Ultimately, Wooyoung cooed at his weak and adorable state, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “It’s alright Sannie,” He said softly. San giggled when he received yet another kiss. However, his smile fell at what Wooyoung said next. “But Sannie doesn’t get to cum again.”

“W-What?”

“You heard me. On your knees.” San obeyed and turned around, perky ass awaiting whatever Wooyoung had in store. He could hear the sound of a bottle of lube opening, where he kept it, San didn’t know; following the cold substance dripping onto his rear. Wooyoung chuckled at the way he flinched while he coated his fingers.

Even though he wiggled in discomfort, San soon adjusted to the way Woo’s fingers moved in and out of him, bringing forth a cry of thrill from him. He scissored his digits, stretching San to where he thought he was yet. The demon, however, was feeling impatient.

“T-That’s enough. Need something bigger~” Wooyoung slowly removed his fingers, carefully replacing them with his member a moment later, per his boyfriend’s request. San withered at the new area of length intruding on his hole, with Wooyoung grunting above, murmuring about how tight he was.

The cold, slick feeling of the lube allowed him the room to shift and after a few seconds for them to both adjust, San permitted for the blonde to move. With great care, his hips began to rock forward, eliciting whines from the demon within seconds.

“Woo~” He moaned. “Faster.” The younger grinned and picked up his pace almost immediately. Each time, he nearly drew out and railed into him at a quicker speed, smirking at the way San cried out in pleasure. His head fell, body jolting at every movement while his eyes fogged with tears.

“Aww~ Poor baby. Sannie just couldn’t wait, could he?” Muttered Wooyoung from above, voice both taunting and sympathetic for the demon. Though it was mostly meant to jeer to the older, as Wooyoung groaned at the building shame in his posture.

“N-No, Sannie couldn’t wait,” Whimpered the older. "Sannie is needy for Wooyoungie." His deep moans and whiny pants were music to Wooyoung’s ears, the only incentive he needed to go faster. “Mmph Wooyoung!”

This time, he laughed. “Your little hole takes me so well puppy~ So good for me.”

San’s pants grew uneven, moans becoming higher by the second.

“Aw baby, what’s wrong?” San didn’t respond. The demon kept his head down, biting his bottom lip to hide the exasperated breaths escaping them. Wooyoung could see his legs quiver and it didn’t take long for him to realise why. “Sannie wants to cum again, doesn’t he?”

San nodded eagerly, tears of frustration running down his cheeks from being just a few seconds from release. He didn’t want another punishment and waited with weary patience. “Go ahead then, Sannie. Cum for me.” The demon did as he was instructed, a loud moan escaping him as a copious amount of slick dripped from his tip to his leg.

He sighed with satisfaction, yet winced when he realised that Wooyoung was still going. “Cumming twice for me, hmm?” He snickered. San could practically hear his smirk. “So greedy, I haven’t even cum once today. Will Sannie be good and wait for me?”

The demon's dissatisfaction was shut with a single shush and allowed Wooyoung to pound into him with no questions asked. His painful overstimulation was either unnoticed or completely ignored as the dom only moaned in satisfaction. "Fuck Sannie, you keep clenching."

Back and forth, his body rocked with every hit from behind, like a rag doll being tossed by its owner. The thought tempted Wooyoung to go just a little longer, even if he knew the poor demon's prostate had been abused. He was a crying mess and it was beautiful. “So weak for me.”

“Wooyoungie, i-it hurts…”

“Just a bit longer Sannie...Oh fuck, fuck San!” Wooyoung filled him to the brim and San whined at the unfamiliar feeling.

Wooyoung made sure he was alright before carefully pulling out. The older fell against the bed with a ginormous sigh, with his boyfriend sliding next to him soon after. San cuddled up to him, wrapping his arms around his torso and pecking his lips. “My poor ass,” He whined.

“I’m sorry San, was I too much?”

“Never.” Wooyoung giggled at that, gently stroking the demon’s hair. “You should top more often. That was fun!”

“If you can go one round without choking me, then we’ll see.”

San nodded at him, smiling brightly as he snuggled closer. “I love you, Wooyoungie.”

“I love you more, Sannie.”

[fandomarchiveilyd]

You’re my Favorite Shouta Aizawa x reader oneshot

warning: Fluff

Word count: 1748

masterlist

When y/n agreed to teach at UA, she didn’t understand the exact amount of stress it would add to her daily life until she actually started the job. However, this is not to say that she hate’s her job. y/n thrived over helping students train towards their ultimate goal to heroism. Her bubbly personality is loved by all of her students and for the most part, her class enjoyed every lecture. She was always so engaging and hands on with her explanation, and she made sure to keep each individual students’ quirk in mind in order to help them push through their limitation.

And as much as she loved her job, y/n would be the first to admit that being a UA teacher takes a lot out of your personal life. She rarely has time to herself in order to remind her that she is more then just a teacher, but she is y/n, who had her own loves and hobbies outside of the UA walls. Ever since she had to move on campus and start nightly patrols, the rare hours to herself dwindled down to almost nothing.

That’s why y/n is so grateful to her work best friend Shouta Aizawa.

y/n has no idea how stoic, sleeping bag wear, stone faced, no emotion Aizawa became her best friend when she’s the exact opposite to him personality wise, but nevertheless, they kept each other sane at work. A feature that they need to survive their chaotic work environment, especially when you have to work with a living boombox and a walking BDSM master.

It was one of those days where y/n could barely keep her eyes open. The night occupied her time with grading homework and patrolling the campus. She was barely able to get two hours of sleep before she had to wake up to restart the whole routine. Her normally bubbly personality was lack luster as she treads through the day.

During her lunch break Aizawa plopped his sleeping bag at the table she was napping at. y/n shot up from her resting position.

“I swear I was not sleeping Principal Nezu!” She insisted, even though her eyes were barely open. Aizawa let out a single chuckle and sat at the chair in front of her.

“Yeah, you’re very convincing.” y/n groaned and tried to wipe the sleepys out of her eyes.

“What time is it?”

“It’s only been 10 minutes.” She groaned again. “How are you so awake right now? One more nightly patrol and I am going to pass out in the middle of class.” Aizawa looked at her in bewilderment.

“Have you met me before? I am never awake. I just mastered the skill to do things in my sleep.” y/n sighed. “I don’t think my body is happy with me being up for more then 24 hours.”

Aizawa gestured to the bright yellow sleeping bag that he laid on the table. “You can burrow my sleeping bag. There are a couple of filing cabinets in the back that you can hide between. I gurantee you that no one will notice that you were ever back there.” Aizawa suggested. y/n lifted an eyebrow.

“How many times have you done this?”

“So many times that there are already a couple of pillows placed on the floor. They have been here for about 4 weeks now.” y/n let out a shallow laugh. “Why am I not surprised?” Aizawa shrugged. He shoved the bag closer to her side of the table.

“Take the sleeping bag. You need to sleep.” y/n slowly shaked her head as she tried to will herself awake. “I have a class in 15 minutes.”

“It’s just study hall isn’t it? Let me cover for you.”

“I can’t let you do that!” She protested, “Next period is your lunch break.” Again, Aizawa shrugged. “I didn’t even bring anything to eat for lunch. I think I can live a day without my lunch break.”

y/n sighed as she can see that Aizawa would not take no for an answer.

“What would I do without you?” She asked as she gathered the bag in her lap.

“You probably would have passed out in the middle of the hallway and get trampled by a bunch of pre-hero students and died on impact.” y/n giggled as she got up from her chair. She walked towards Aizawa’s seat and unconsciously kissed him on the lips. Her head to foggy and eyes to drowsy to notice what she did.

“You know you’re my favorite person right?” Aizawa turned away from her to hide the slight redness spread across his face. Yes, it’s just redness, it’s hot in the room. Aizawa would never admit that he just blushed. He faked a cough as he tried to avoid eye contact. Unfortunately, he was not staring right at Hizashi teasing him and making kissy faces.

“Yeah, I better be.” Aizawa muttered.

When y/n woke up from her nap, she immediately wanted to punch herself in the face when she remembered what she did.

“I can’t believe you kissed him!” y/n muttered to herself in the comfort of her own room. “God what kind of idiot are you! He most be so uncomfortable with you now! How am I going to fix this?” y/n was pacing so much that she was sure that she had started leaving track marks on her wooden floor. She rubbed her face furiously and pulled at her own hair.

“There is no way that he doesn’t know about your crush for him now! Oh god Hizashi was there too! He is never going to let me forget about this! How can you single handedly ruin the best friendship you had just because you were tired?” y/n was really yelling at herself at this point. She was surprised none of her neighbors had come in and told her to shut up yet.

She nervously bit at her thumb nail as she tried to figure out how she can explain why she kissed him without revealing her massive crush on him.

“Maybe I can say I was so sleep drunk that I didn’t know what I was doing!” She theorized, “Or maybe I can pretend that I didn’t do it if he never brings it up.” She groaned and threw her hands in the air.

“No, y/n there’s only one way to save this. Say you’re sorry and move on and pray to whatever god is listening that our relationship doesn’t change after this.” She took a deep breath as she tried to come herself down.

“And if I want to say sorry, I will have to bring presents.”

And that is why y/n was attempting to make her first bento box at 2 am in the morning. 5 failed attempts at making a cute hotdog octopus later, she finally felt proud of her creation and anxiously waited for the right time to hand him her peace offering. Let’s hope that this was enough for him to forgive her.

y/n bit her lips nervously as she lingered outside the door that lead to the teacher’s lounge. She knew that Aizawa would be grading papers at this time. She knew that Aizawa had a habit of not bring himself lunch and he never had time to go to Lunch Rush, so she hoped that today he didn’t decide to deviate from his own schedule.

Her heart was pounding against her chest, the blood rushing to her ears was the only thing she can hear despite the bustling feet of students hidden in the background. She took a deep breath, letting the air escape through her mouth. You can do this y/n. Just go in there, and say sorry, and move on.

“Whatcha got there?” y/n yelped and jumped so hard she almost felt herself leaving her own body. She spun around and noticed Aizawa leaning down to look at her. Her eyes darted up to him. The hallways were clear and there was no one else in sight.

“W-what are you doing out here?” She asked. Aizawa squinted at her. “I was going to ask you the same thing. Why are you waiting outside the teacher’s lounge? I know I joke that you look like a student, but you know that you don’t need permission to enter right?” y/n chuckled nervously.

“Um, I was actually looking for you,” She admitted. He nodded. “Well you found me. What can I do for you?” He asked, crossing his arms across his chest as he leaned against the door.

God it has to be illegal to be that attractive. His tight black shirt clung to his toned arms. Aizawa left his scruff in class 1-A so you can clearly see the 5 o’clock shadow perfectly shaping his already chiseled face. His hair tied in a mess bun.

y/n swallowed hard as she tried not to imagine how his hair would feel if she carded her fingers through his locks—

“I wanted to give this to you!” She said suddenly, jotting out the cute bento box that she clenched in her hands. Aizawa looked down at it curiously.

“What did I do to deserve a bento box?” Aizawa propped himself back up as he grabbed the box, he opened the lid and smiled at the poorly cut hotdogs. y/n chewed on her bottom lip nervously.

“It’s a thank you for letting me burrow your sleeping bag yesterday. If I didn’t take that nap, I don’t think I would be able to walk home las night.” She explained, “I also wanted to apologize for kissing you yesterday. It was inappropriate and despite the fact that I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time, we’re co-workers and best friends. I don’t want to ruin our friendship and I understand if you don’t feel the same way—” y/n was not able to finish her sentence, however.

Aizawa gently wrapped his free hand around her jaw as he leaned down to capture her lips against his. It was weird at first. The kiss was sudden with no warning and their teeth clashed, and their noses bumped against each other. But when y/n’s mind can finally understand what was happening, she melted completely into him.

When they pulled apart, y/n took a minute to find her voice.

“So… does this mean you like me?” She asked stupidly, her mind dizzy from his lips. Aizawa chuckled lowly and nodded.

“I’ve liked you since day one.” y/n nodded.

“Good.”

[v-hope]

His fans love you

Pairings: OT7 x Reader

Genre: Fluff, is it even surprising anymore. Mayyyyybe a lil bit of crack?

Request: “Alright alright hear me out. Everyone knows the typical "angst / breaking up because of hate" fics. But what about a reaction where you and your relationship is actually really supported and well-liked by fans? Like you get your own memes and fan accounts and stuff? Just pure crack material right here 💥”

A/N: This was such a nice change tbh, so thank you so much for requesting it! It also reminded me I still haven’t made a second part for the break up reaction regarding this same topic lmao. I hope you guys like it 💞

Kim Seokjin

“What’s so funny?” you peeked your head inside the living room when you could no longer ignore your boyfriend’s signature windshield laugh.

Snapping his head in your direction, he smiled wholeheartedly, motioning with three pats to the spot next to him on the couch for you to go sit next to him.

“My fans are the best” he voiced out as you obeyed, taking a seat by his side.

“What’d they do?” you asked with a smile — his own being way too contagious to fight it.

“There’s this contest for the most attractive idol couple going on and they made sure we made it to the list”.

“But I’m not an idol?” your previous smile was replaced with a confused frown.

One that only grew more prominent when he amusedly threw his arms up and exclaimed:

“Yet we still won!”

With that said, Jin threw his head back to let a throaty laugh that sounded just like victory escape his mouth.

On your end, still being too stunned and not really believing his words, you snatched his phone away from him — seeing right then with your own two eyes that the both of you had indeed won such title.

“Is that even allowed?” you worried.

“Who cares” he shrugged, taking his phone back in his hands to excitedly check it one more time — eyes glowing at the sight of the number one right next to your ship’s name. “Ah, our power” a pleased sigh came out of his mouth, resting his head on your shoulder, “I love it”.

And well, not to be smug or anything but, in all honesty, so did you.

Min Yoongi

“How’d the fansign go?” you wondered after having opened the door to your place for your boyfriend, allowing him to press a chaste kiss to your lips before he made his way to your kitchen.

“It was good” he kept it simple, going to grab a glass of water. “A lot of people asked me about you”.

Well, that sure did catch your attention. “They did?”

Yoongi nodded his head. “Some of them even asked me to do a Vlive with you, but I’m pretty sure they only said that so they could see you”.

You couldn’t help but let out a little laugh at both his statement and the bitter tone he had said it with; later taking a few steps towards him. “Maybe I should do a live by myself”.

“Pft, please” he laughed tauntingly, putting the glass down on the table, “you wouldn’t even know what to talk about”.

“Oh, I already know what I’d name it”.

“Please enlighten me” Yoongi said with the same previous tone and a teasing smirk.

A smirk that was instantly mirrored by you before you said: “Spilling Yoongi’s most embarrassing moments”.

That was all it took for his smug smile to be erased.

“You wouldn’t”.

“Oh, I would” you affirmed, “starting with the time we went to that music shop you—”

“Yah” he cut you off in a scolding tone, yet the pink colour covering his cheeks let you know how embarrassed he was at the mere memory. “Now I get why my fans like your evil ass so much”.

And although he knew you would never actually do such thing to him, maybe he could comply to those people’s wishes and do a cheesy couple Vlive with you… you know, just to be safe you wouldn’t drag him too much.

Jung Hoseok

Being an idol’s girlfriend, you knew you wouldn’t really get full privacy whenever you decided to go out, and you had already managed to deal with that.

That’s why, when Hobi and you were walking around the streets during a date night and a couple of fans approached the two of you asking for pictures, you squeezed his hand to let him know it was alright for him to accept.

Getting an apologetic glance from your boyfriend, you smiled sweetly, moving aside so that they could all have their pictures — that being the exact moment one particular girl called your name.

“Wait, no” she put her phone down when you stared at her, “I um, actually wanted a picture with the two of you…” at that, your heart jumped and Hobi smiled the brightest, “is that possible?”

“Of course it is!” Hoseok confirmed with no hesitation.

Letting out a blissful giggle, he wasted no time in grabbing your hand to pull you towards his body like it was all too familiar by now.

And after taking more than one picture, since the rest of the people present also wanted a picture with the two of you, and, even more, after getting complimented on your beautiful relationship, Hoseok wrapped his arm securely over your shoulders as you resumed on your walking.

“You have now become my designated picture buddy whenever someone wants to take one with me” he giddily spoke after a while.

You shook your head in amusement, staring fondly at him. “Don’t expect everyone to like me, Hoseok”.

“I don’t” he confessed, pulling you even closer and pressing a tender kiss to your temple, “but I will take every single chance I get to have more pictures of your beautiful face”.

And as the time went on and more people started asking for pictures of the two of you and you would find your boyfriend gushing over them whenever he found them on Twitter, you knew he had truly meant it.

Kim Namjoon

“Oh my God”.

After hearing what was a mixture in between a groan and a whine come out of your boyfriend’s lips, you put your phone down, placing your eyes on his tall figure lying down on the other end of the bed.

“Something wrong?” you wondered.

Namjoon shook his head, putting his phone down as well before his eyes fixed on yours — not even a second later crawling to go lay down next to you.

“My fans are saying we are, and I quote: the clumsiest, most adorable couple there is”.

Now, the clumsy bit was no news at all, yet you still found yourself defensively saying: “I am not clumsy”.

“You sure?” he taunted you; a smirk beginning to take over his face. “Because they started this thing to keep track on every single dumb thing we’ve done and see who’s the clumsiest—”

Oh.

“—and it’s almost a tie”.

You rested your weight on your elbows, lifting your body slightly up from the mattress so you could take a better look at him.

“And who’s winning?” your voice came out uncertain.

All it took for you to know the answer was watching the way his head hung low.

Nevertheless, a triumphant smile curved up your lips when Joon confirmed through gritted teeth: “Me”.

With that, you let your head fall back down on the pillow, feeling your body relax as you sighed in content.

“I love your fans”.

And they loved you. Totally a win-win situation.

Park Jimin

Your eyes remained focused on the multiple papers scattered around Jimin’s bed, studying in absolute silence as you kept him company while he chatted with his fans on Vlive — smiling from time to time at certain things he would say or just the sound of his laugh.

He had answered a couple of questions regarding either you or your relationship, for he absolutely loved gushing about you, and you were actually pretty alright with that; even with him informing his wide audience about you being right behind him studying for one of your tests.

What you were most certainly not expecting, however, was for your boyfriend to turn around in the middle of his live and call for you to come over.

You shook your head no immediately, silently motioning to your books as an excuse not to go.

“Please, baby” he pouted, being too focused on you to notice the madness his pet name for you had just unleashed in the comments. “They want the two of us”.

And, you see, saying no to that cute little pout taking over his pretty plump was not really an option to you.

So, falling for it, you stood up from his bed and made your way over to him, feeling the heat reach your face when he gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you down on his lap, later wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder as you awkwardly waved into the camera.

Yes, maybe you had yet to get used to being so constantly put under the public eye, but, in all honesty, if you were getting all this attention nevertheless, you were grateful it was the good kind of it.

And Jimin? God, he was thriving to show you off to the entire world.

Kim Taehyung

“Can you believe people think I’m breaking up with you?”

Your heart jumped at your boyfriend’s sudden comment, feeling it drop for a second there before your eyes caught his — that being the only confirmation you needed to know he was indeed not breaking up with you.

“W-what?”

“Yeah” Taehyung snorted, moving closer to you on your bed and showing you his phone, “this delusional magazine made an article about me apparently wanting to break up with you” he explained, focusing back on his mobile and not being able to contain a giggle when he later added: “And we’re trending topic now on Twitter and my fans have started this petition for us not to split up”.

“They what now?” you asked again, this time feeling a smile of your own take over your factions.

“Yeah, see?” he practically shoved his phone in your face after having searched for the page. “So many people have signed it, it’s insane”.

A chuckle left your mouth as you shook your head in amusement; as if that would save your relationship if that was the case.

“I’m signing it” he stated before you could even speak up your mind, already starting to type on his phone.

You couldn’t stop a throaty laugh to escape your mouth as you threw your head back, biting down on your lower lip to help you stop it.

“Or you could just, you know…” you drew his attention, “not break up with me”.

Tae smiled sweetly — his eyes softening right before he leaned in to press a tender kiss to your lips. “I would never even dream of it”.

Jeon Jeongguk

“Jeongguk, are you… are you crying?” you worried as soon as you found him lying down on his bed with his eyes fixed to his phone as a couple of tears made their way down his cheeks.

Rushing to his side, you slumped down next to him, making him take his attention away from his mobile by gently yet securely cupping his face.

“What happened?” you softly wiped his tears.

“Nothing bad” he reassured you, allowing your heart to feel more at ease. “I just… there was this video linked to me…”

You waited a few seconds for him to go on, yet the only thing you got from him were his cheeks turning slightly red — biting down on his lower lip as he was clearly ashamed of the reason he had been crying for.

“Okay… so…” you tried to get something else out of him.

Jeongguk sighed, knowing well enough you would not let this go.

“It was a fanmade video about us” he finally explained, causing your heart to jump, “it was like, a compilation of cute moments of us and this stupid love song was playing in the background and the editing was just so beautiful and I—”

He shrugged, staring down as he did not really know how to end his small ramble.

You laughed under your breath out of pure affection, pressing a kiss to the tip of his red nose.

“Will you let me watch it so we can cry together now?”

Funny how you had said that to mock him, yet ten seconds into the video and with Guk’s body comfortably resting on top of yours as you watched it together, you were already crying, too.

[obeymeprompts]

Triangle Relationship w/ Diavolo, (M/C) and Lucifer

 (M/C) didn’t see this coming at all. When they first arrived at R.A.D., they started helping the Student Council as a club activity because they tought it could also ease off the ridiculous amount of tasks Lucifer assigned them. Unexpectedly, the Avatar of Pride was the one to get closer to (M/C), even if that meant knowing more about their job personality and what they hated while at work than their actual self.

Ironically enough, Lucifer also didn’t see Diavolo’s own way of making his approach. (M/C) started getting invited along their afternoon teas and dinners. Not only that, but they were put together in their secret D.D.D. chat group along with Barbatos! It was an unpleasant surprise when the Avatar of Pride started to feel jealous towards (M/C). He already had to hide angsty feelings towards the prince before, why Diavolo had to make more of those bloom within him?

Diavolo though didn’t show any hostility towards any of you them, even whenever Lucifer tried to state some kind of domination over that relationship. Actually, it seemed like he could like both of them at the same time, same amount, and that his cherishing for Lucifer could thrive his loving for (M/C) and vice versa. What actually got to him was seeing his closest friend in conflict.

The changing point of their relationship took place in the third day of the retreat in Lord Diavolo’s castle. While all the others went home, the wonder trio stuck together for some more and Diavolo’s taking seat next to (M/C) during afternoon teatime was what triggered Lucifer’s reaction. Upon being questioned on why he was acting so clingy, Diavolo surprised the Avatar of Pride beyond expectations.

“I’m not to steal them from you, Lucifer, the same way I’m not to woo you away from them. In fact, if only my affection could approximate us three instead of causing you to worry...”

After a long talk, you found out Diavolo’s way of loving is more towards a free manner than a traditional one. He doesn’t like keeping the ones he loves romantically in the way one would keep an object and also admitted having an issue with sex. Diavolo doesn’t like hookups, oh no-- he likes much more being able to touch and please a close friend than someone who has no meaning to him. Being like this, he doesn’t understand why most demons take the sexual act so damn serious, since it should be just something like kissing a good friend!

Lucifer took this all with a blank, unbelieving face. Deep inside, he could be despiting Diavolo.

...after chapter 16(no spoilers explicit!)

Only after everything, Lucifer could swallow the conversation from months ago, along with his ancient angst. He now understood his surprising innocent way of thinking and it made him appreciate his friend more like an actual demon/person than someone he’d obey without questioning.

“I’m glad we have came to a mutual understading, Lucifer~!” -- the wonder trio was back together, now with the creepy ass Barbatos always following them around as they strolled through Diavolo’s halls once again. Much to your relief, Lucifer asks him to bring something -- something he’d forgotten, and the weird butler is gone for just enough time for him to bring up the subject (M/C) tought was completely dead.

“You still like (M/C), don’t you? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t to them”, was enough to make the prince’s face fluster with both joy and passion. First thing Diavolo did was to wantonly grab his best friend’s face in a deep, long kiss that left Lucifer’s face completely red and puzzled.

While keeping a watch for Barbatos, he covered (M/C)’s neck in pecks while the hesitant couple first kissed. As Lucifer’s lips finally pressed against theirs, Diavolo smiled and ran his fingers through the Avatar of Pride’s pitch black hair. 

Needless to say, their dynamic consisted basically of an always excited Diavolo, a fighting dominant Lucifer and a sandwiched (M/C).

NSFW Bonus!

Their first time together was surprisingly natural. Diavolo was a perfect guide whenever any of the other two seemed the littlest bit lost. Both he and Lucifer fought dominance over the poor human, but didn’t lack touching eachother too a single bit.

(M/C) soon found out that when Diavolo is reaching his edge, his true form is activated without him even noticing. For some reason, this triggers Lucifer’s transformation as well, but he didn’t seem to mind.

It is much more practical to visit Diavolo’s room than Lucifer’s. Not only his bed is larger, but he doesn’t have to deal with pesky brothers. The three are hoping Barbatos doesn’t spread dirty rumors about this.

By the time the three are finished, (M/C) has their body clad in claw marks, loads of cum and sometimes dried blood. This is what they get for picking the literally two most powerful demons in Devildom.

[josephmozzerellaswife-blog]

Expecting the Unexpected Part 3

Sorry this chapter took so long, it is way longer than the others and I have been super busy so I could only write for a few hours a night.

Warnings: angst, tons of fluff, JOKES FINALLY, childhood illness/ treatment, vomit

Word Count: 5.2K

Summary: When Joe gets back from his recent business trip he notices something is up with your new little one. Can an urgent ER trip can change your lives for good?

*3 weeks later*

The sound of your pounding alarm could be heard all throughout the apartment. Your phone lit up and read 5:30 AM Treatment Day. It took you and Joe almost no thought that treatment was Scarlet’s best option and his mom helped you both decide the best course of treatment to take. The price didn’t matter to either of you one bit, nothing was worth more than your precious little girl, who by the way, was still sound asleep down the hall. Her first treatment was scheduled to be in Los Angeles because of the Oscars and Joe didn’t want to miss her first appointment. Joe reached over your exhausted body, tapping the snooze button on your screen.

“Five more minutes pleeeease.” he muffled, head face down into his pillow.

Mornings like these were some of your favorite, most intimate times with Joe. You sat up from the cozy spot you once laid, eyes stuck on Joe’s body. You were wearing one of his Yellowstone t-shirt’s that you had stolen from the laundry almost every week, it might as well be your shirt by now because he has like five. You couldn’t help but roll on top of him like a sack of potatoes, attempting to wake him up and make him laugh all in one.

“What on earth are you doing?” he giggled, trying to hold it in but couldn’t resist.

“Well what do you think i’m doing?”

“Mhhh... turning me on?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Over the past 7 years of your relationship and 5 years of marriage he still managed to give you butterflies. He rolled you over to his side, keeping ahold of your waist in his hands.

“Maybe.” you teased, his smile only growing larger by the minute.

He grazed your thigh as he pulled his hand up to your lower back, the other hand upon your cheek.

“Well why don’t you just kiss me already.”

You both fell into the most passionate kiss. One after another, melting into his touch, your lips never parting from his.

“You know I don’t HAVE to go to the Oscars tonight..” he said.

“Joe, you and I both know that isn’t true.”

“Well I can make it true, tell the boys that something came up.”

“You still haven’t told them have you. It’s been 3 weeks Joe.”

“I know love but I just don’t know how to tell them, it’s hard.”

You totally understood how he felt. It took you almost a week before you could tell your parents, afraid they would think you were a failed parent, letting this happen to your child. But in fact, it was the complete opposite. They were nothing but supportive, even offered to help cover the expenses although they knew it wasn’t necessary.

“Joe you’re going. This isn’t a discussion. It’s Scarlet’s first time watching the Oscars, don’t you think her daddy should be the one she is looking at on the big screen.” You tried to persuade him back into his original plan.

It wouldn’t be the first time she got to see her daddy on the big screen, well she probably won’t remember it but you went into labor the night before Bohemian Rhapsody’s big premiere at Wembley. As much as Joe didn’t want to leave your side, it was in his contract that he attend the premiere. So even though Scarlet hadn’t even been a day old yet, Joe wanted to make sure you got to see your husband on the big screen of a stadium, so he facetimed you, through the WHOLE movie, commentating with his own silly jokes when Ben or Gwil would appear on your screen.

Just before your lips part, you could hear Scarlet from the monitor resting on your side table.

“I’ll get her. After all I won’t be around much today now. I have to get ready before noon so I won’t get to stay for her whole appointment.” he pleaded with a saddened look on his delicate face, brows furrowed.

“Babe it’s ok, I will still be there and you will be there all but an hour. You don’t need to worry.”

“I know but darling it’s her first treatment and I don’t want her to think I don’t love her.”

“Joe are you serious right now? First of all she’s only 4 months old, secondly there is no way on earth she would ever think you didn’t love her. You give her and I the world Joey.” you comforted him, his doubts only crushed your heart. Why would he ever think these things?

You could hear the rustling from down the hall. Joe probably decided to just get her ready seeing as you both snoozed the alarm for almost 20 minutes. When he came back Scarlet was in the cutest outfit EVER. He had dressed her in one of her pale pink onesies with the most adorable lacy details on the back and a small pink hair bow to top it all off. He had brushed her beautiful auburn hair, just like his, to create the cutest curls off to the sides. Sometimes you felt like Joe had better taste in baby fashion than you, well beside the dinosaur costume he bought her for halloween later this year.

“Hi sweetie, daddy did a good job dressing you today didn’t he?” you smiled.

“Just today?” he giggled.

“Really Joey?”

“Hey i’m just saying.”

At that point you couldn’t help but laugh. Anything to lighten the mood was helpful in taking your mind off of the hours to come. While Joe took care of the rest of the baby stuff, you quickly threw on a floral cream cami dress and ran downstairs to get breakfast started. The stove top read 6:30 and only caused you to rush even more. Eggs were your last minute decision because you needed to leave the house by 6:50 to make it to the treatment center on time. As you poured in the raw egg whites into the scolding hot pan, you felt the familiar hands of your husband slowly grasp your waist, spinning you into his arms.

“You look absolutely stunning my love.”

“Joey I do not-“

Before you could even finish your sentence, his lips were pressing onto yours once again, the passion still thriving between you. It was almost as Scarlet’s diagnosis made you both realize how much the little things meant, although your love for Joe grew more and more everyday, giving you a new reason to fall madly in love with him all over again. A burning scent spread through the air, you turned only to see that the eggs you were so frantically cooking were now burnt.

“Crap I totally forgot that they were still on the stove.” you whined.

Joe quickly pulled you close to him again.

“It’s ok love don’t stress, we can just get something later.”

“I’m sorry Joe.”

“Babe it’s just eggs, i’m not mad.” he pleaded. He hated seeing you sad like this. He couldn’t tell if it was from the stress about Scarlet’s first treatment or just your anxiety taking control again.

“We should get going love, it’s already 6:55.”

By the time you gathered all the things you needed and Joe got Scarlet all buckled into her car seat, it’s was already 7:05. You hated being late, especially for something like this. What if just these few minutes affected the way the treatment worked for Scarlet? All this time was more precious than ever.

Joe could see the worry in your eyes as he pulled out of the driveway and past the front entry. Before he pulled onto the highway, he swiftly pulled out his phone and put on the playlist he made for you when he knew you were feeling anxious. The first song to play was something that would definitely lift your spirts and you both could rock out to for the whole six minutes, Bohemian Rhapsody. Fitting, seeing as the very replica of John Deacon was sitting just to your left. All doubts and worries quickly fled from your mind as you turned to look at Joe.

“You know exactly what I need just when I need it don’t you Mazzello?”

“That’s my job isn’t it?” he joked, causing you both to let out the loudest of laughs.

The famous Brian May’s Red Special rift flooded throughout your car and not long after were each of the Scaramouch, Galileos and Bismillahs. Just after that is when you looked to you husband only to see him head banging like no other with the biggest smile on his face.

Nothing really matters to me.

Any way the wind blows.

“Man, Roger can really hit that gong can’t he?” Joe laughed.

“Sure can Mr. Deacon, bass wasn’t too bad either.”

He gazed at you with his loving eyes, absorbing everything about you.

“If you say so Mrs. Mazzello.” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

The rest of the drive consisted of all yours and Joe’s favorite music and some of Scarlet’s too, after all she did have a great taste in music for a four month old.

Joe signed in for you while you ran to the restroom with Scarlet to quickly change her.

“You are gonna do so good today sweetie. You are such a brave little girl.” you expressed, your eyes never parting from your little girl’s.

You knew today was going to be hard for all of you, especially with Joe having to leave a little early but his mom offered to come and wait with you while he was gone. When you walked back into the waiting room Joe could tell that you were back into that anxious state again, but he could blame you. He was just as scared as you were.

“She’s gonna do great love don’t worry. She’s a Mazzello and Mazzello’s are tough.” he tried to reassure you.

You glanced at him, your eyes becoming glassy.

“I’m just so scared. I know that she is getting the best treatments possible but I feel so helpless not being able to help her.” you sobbed, tears now slowly running down your cheeks.

“We are gonna get through this love. All of us.” His words always comforted you, like a warm blanket of reassurance.

When the nurse finally called your names, the walk down the hall seemed forever, passing by each new chart or poster. She guided you all into a private treatment room where you would be spending the next few hours. It was painted in many fluorescent colors with butterflies and flowers running across the borders. She quickly asked Joe if he would sit on the bed with her while she got started. Scarlet never seemed scared, she always enjoyed being around people and loved the attention, but once the nurse cleaned her a with the cold rubbing alcohol, it was over. Scarlet just looked up into her daddy’s eyes with the saddest of looks on her face, tears quickly forming. Joe tried to keep her distracted while holding her arm straight for the nurse to place the needle carefully and quickly so your little one wouldn’t move. The needle didn’t seem to bother her much surprisingly, but it was soon after when the nurse started administering the treatment that made her cry, tears swiftly streaming down her face. It killed you and Joe, every inch of your hearts aching at the sight of your sad little girl, her pain clearly painted across her face. It took everything in you not to get upset but Joe had already started silently crying, no emotion from his face but tears falling from his cheeks. He held her so close to him, hoping her pain would soon suffice as she adapted to it. Joe gazed at you with sorrow in his eyes. You sat down next to him, gripping his hand as your placed your other against Scarlet’s little cheek, lightly kissing her forehead. She gave a small smile, knowing that you both loved her so much.

About two hours into her treatment, Joe was contacted by his stylist that he would need to come in. He hesitantly passed your now sleeping daughter off to you, hating that he had to leave you both. His mother had just walked in the door as Joe was gather his things.

“Hi mom, I was just about to leave.” he said with a sad frown across his face.

“Oh don’t worry dear, I’ll be here to keep them company. They will be fine.” she reassured him.

“I know, I just hate leaving them. They are my whole world you know.”

“I do Joey, that’s exactly how your father and I were. That’s how you know you both can last forever.”

His frown soon turned to a smile at his mother’s comforting words.

“Well I better get going, can’t be late for a fitting like this. Can you believe it, i’m actually going to the Oscars.”

You gazed at him with such a passion. Not only were you proud of your husband, but you knew so many other people were too. His family. His friends. His fans. He was finally getting what he deserved after all these years of hard work.

He walked over to you and placed a kiss upon your baby’s head, rubbing her back as he did. Then looked to you and you could feel yourself melting into his touch, a kiss filled with so much love, and then another. Just as he was about to walk out the door he turned around and whispered,

“How did I get so lucky to have such strong women in my life?”.

The rest of Scarlet’s treatment wasn’t as bad, she slept for most of it which worried you, always watching the steady rise and fall of her chest to assure she was breathing. Joe’s mom could see the paranoia right through you.

“Sweetie you do know that you’re allowed to rest too right? You’ve been watching her like a hawk for almost three hours.”

“I just hate seeing her like this. I hate not being able to help her. She looks so lifeless.”

“She just fine dear, the medication is supposed to make her tired. That means it’s working in her system.”

Her words of comfort only helped so much but your motherly instinct still couldn’t pull you from your state. You could feel your phone start to vibrate in your back pocket which gave you an instant feeling of comfort.

Hi sweet, I’m on my way back to the hospital, i’ll be there in 10. Love you.

No matter what was going on he always managed to put a smile on your face.

As you cuddled up to your little one, still sound asleep, you hear a faint knock at the door. In comes your husband, all dressed in his Oscar outfit, the sparkle from his suit matching perfectly with his eyes. Your gaze never left his sexy body as he shuffled closer to you.

“Hi love, how’s she doing.”

“She holding in there, mostly sleeping the whole time. Also how can you just casually walk in here without warning me that my hot ass husband was already Oscar ready.” you both giggled.

“I wanted to surprise you. Seems like I did my job well.”

“Indeed you did Mr. Mazzello.”

“Anything for you Mrs. Mazzello.”

You could hear Joe’s mother laughing from the corner of the room. Soon everyone was laughing, but still trying to be quiet from waking the baby. You slowly passed Scarlet off to Joe so he could spend time with her before he dropped us off at the house after her treatment. You loved the way he would look at her, he looked at you the same way. His passionate eyes following your ever move as if it was his last time he would ever see you again.

When the nurse came in to remove the IV, Scarlet had been asleep for almost the full 4 hours, which caused you to worry.

“If you don’t mind me asking, is it normal for her to have been sleeping this much?” you worried.

“Yes, it’s completely normal. The medication is different for everyone but can cause drowsiness from the fighting of toxins.”

Her words eased your anxiety. As long as everything was normal, you could worry a little bit less.

The nurse quickly removed the needle and took a quick exam before we were free to leave. She said that Scarlet would probably sleep for a little while after and some side effects might kick in within the next 5-6 hours. Joe found comfort when he was with you, your perfect little mix of the both of you resting in his arms. He was quick to wrap his arm around your waist, your hand soon to cover his while leaning against him.

The drive to the aparment was quiet. Joe glanced over to find you sound asleep, your head resting against the window. His mother told him how you never left Scarlet’s side which made him worry for you. He didn’t need you getting sick from trying to help your daughter, but he knew you couldn’t help it. Mother’s instinct.

Just as he pulled into the driveway, a familiar buzz went off in the cup holder. It was Ben letting Joe know that they would be there to pick him up in an hour. He gently rubbed your thigh, trying his best to wake you. Your eyes felt heavy as you glanced at your adorably hot husband, his suit still shimmering from the sunlight.

“We’re home love.” he spoke softly.

He helped you out of your side and ran around the car to unbuckle Scarlet from her car seat. Your legs had been wobbly from how tired you still were and Joe was quick to hold your arm as he helped you both inside.

He refused to let you help him as he got everything ready for Scarlet that she might need for the rest of the day, bottles, medication, blankets, he even threw in a load of laundry. He always made sure that you both were taken care of before he left, even if it was just for the rest of the night.

As you lied on the couch, Scarlet sleeping peacefully in one arm and you lying back to be wrapped in Joe’s, you almost felt like you would fall asleep again. His warm body always felt like home, like a safe place where everything was ok. It was only until his phone buzzed that you knew this warm, fuzzy feeling would end.

“The guys are here love.” he said, gently kissing the top of your head as he rubs your arms. You didn’t want this moment to end, you didn’t want him to go again.

“I wish you could stay but I know you are gonna kill it out there babe. Go show those actors that sparkle.” you spoke passionately about him, like you always do. A smile quickly formed on his face just before he placed a tender kiss to your lips, a feeling that you never wanted to part.

You walked out with him to the car, Scarlet lying snug in your arms while Joe had one arm around your waist, gently rubbing your side.

“No Oscars for you two tonight?” Gwil said with a puzzled look to his face.

“Nope not tonight, this little one has been a bit uh- tired lately.” you hesitated, remembering that Joe had yet to tell them.

“It’s a shame really. I’m sure you would have looked incredible.” Ben quickly flirted.

“Are you hitting on my wife again Hardy? Don’t make me go get Cardy B because he can be my plus 1.” Joe was fast to snap back, laughter soon filling the air.

“What can I say. You did good Joe.”

“I know. How did I ever get so lucky?”

He cupped your cheek as he placed another kiss between the two of you, and another soon after causing you both to fall deeper into each other.

“Uhh don’t mean to interrupt but we do have an award show to attend.” Ben blurted.

“Oh shut up you weasel. Let them have their moment.” Gwil shoved Ben from the front seat.

Joe placed a quick kiss against Scarlet’s head, and your lips once more before jumping into the backseat.

“I love you Y/N.”

“We love you to Joey. We’ll be watching all night.”

You watched them drive off until their car soon became just a small speck before walking back inside. Joe had set up a travel crib in the living room for you to be able to see Scarlet while watching the Oscars. He knew you would worry about her so he ensured that she would be close to you all night.

Just before the red carpet was about to start Scarlet had finally woke up from her nap and you both began to watch all the amazing outfits of the night. Scarlet didn’t quite understand but you kept your eyes peeled for that sparkling husband of yours. You did however spot Lucy and Rami walking the carpet and noticed something so touching to your heart. They were both sporting tiny gold ribbons pinned to the designer outfits in support of childhood cancer. It didn’t take long for the tears to fall from your cheeks. Looking down at your child, she was absolutely adorable as usual, so in love with all the colors on the television, and decided to take a quick snap for instagram considering you and Joe have been so private lately.

You soon spotted Joe with all his cast mates as they strolled up to the next interviewer.

“So Joe are you the spokesman of the group?”

“Umm no I think we’re all pretty good at this.” he giggled in reply.

He seemed back to his normal self once he hit the carpet and that made you feel so much better. You both had been having a really rough time with all of this.

“So Joe any news we should know about? The hospital photos for example?”

You could see the hesitation in his eyes. You didn’t want the whole world to know, especially before the boys.

“That was just a normal check up. Scarlet’s pediatrician is based out of that children’s hospital.”

The boys looked a little confused noticing the hesitation from Joe. It was quite unusual for him especially during events like this because he was a natural during interviews. They knew something was up. That was the last you saw of them.

“Joe what was that back there?” Gwil asked.

“I can’t talk about this here.”

“Talk about what Joe?” Ben chimes in.

Joe felt the vibration of his phone in pocket. It was a text from you.

Joe it’s the baby. She won’t stop throwing up and I don’t know what to do. I didn’t want to bother you with this but I can’t get ahold of anyone. I can’t get her to stop what should I do!!

A rush of panic flooded his body. He quickly grabbed both the boys arms and dragged them into an empty room in the building.

“Listen, Scarlet she- she has cancer. That’s why we went to the hospital. That’s why she has been so tired. That’s why Y/N couldn’t come with me tonight. It’s why i’ve been so distant and I’m sorry for that. I just didn’t know how to tell you guys and-” he was quickly cut off by Ben.

“Joe i’m so sorry mate. Is there anything we can do.”

“Yeah Joe you guys don’t have to go through this alone.” Gwil continued.

You could tell the news was heartbreaking for Ben and Gwil. They both loved every bit of your little one.

“It’s been really rough guys. Today was her first treatment and I couldn’t even be there the whole time to support my girls because of all this Oscar prep and now Y/N just texted me telling me that Scarlet can’t stop throwing up and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help them.” Joe was sobbing at this point. His heart breaking into a million pieces as he finished his last sentence.

“Joe you should go be with them. This isn’t as important as them even if it’s the Oscars. I know being here is killing you, we could tell all night.” Gwil convinced Joe.

“Yeah Joe, we hate to see you go but family is more important and we understand. Bri and Rog would understand. We are all here for you buddy.” Ben pleaded.

Joe didn’t think twice before wrapping them both in a tight, well-needed hug and running of to catch a car back to your apartment.

“Good luck guys! Don’t party to hard without me ok? We’ve got this!”

“Love you Joe. Kisses to the baby and Y/N for us!” Gwil yelled.

Paparazzi must have caught you running off the property in a hurry because it didn’t take long for a story to come out.

“Joe Mazzello seen running out of the Oscars in a panic. Another hospital visit ahead?”

You got the notification as soon as it hit the press. Thousands of messages poured into your dms all worried about you and Scarlet. You had finally gotten Scarlet to stop vomiting and gave her a quick bath to help sooth her discomfort. Her poor eyes still red and puffy from all the previous events. You didn’t even bother cleaning yourself up, all you cared about was Scarlet and making sure she was ok. You could hear the Oscars playing in the background, hoping Joe was still there enjoying all the winners. You soon collapsed into the couch before feeding Scarlet a bottle so she would fall asleep easier. After she finished and had dozed off, you felt yourself soon follow.

Joe frantically opened the door to find his two girls sleeping sound on the couch. He smiled in relief as he shuffled over to scoop Scarlet from your arms, careful not to wake you. Just before he went to put Scarlet down in her crib, he draped your body with your favorite blanket and placed a light kiss on your forehead, slightly waking you from your sleep. When he came back, he found you lying on the couch covered in baby vomit and clearly exhausted.

“Hi love, I came back as soon as I could.” he whispered.

“Joey you didn’t need too. I just didn’t know what else to do, I’m so sorry.” you wept groggily in his arms, tears sinking into his suit.

“Love it’s ok. You both are so much more important to me than some silly award show.” he tried to reassure you.

“Come on lets go jump in the shower and get you cleaned up.” he quickly guided you down the hall and helped you undress as you held his body close.

“Join me? I need the company.”

“How could I refuse?”

You both climbed into the shower, the warm water quickly running down your back. Joe insisted he help you wash your hair, his gentle touch massaging your scalp with both the shampoo and then conditioner. Your kisses consistent with every move. The passion you two shared never failed to shine. Your love growing stronger with each and every moment you spend together. The warm water pulling you both closer, almost inseparable.

He grabbed you a towel and wrapped it around your body, kissing your shoulders then up your neck to your lips as you guided his hands to yours. It didn’t take long for you to throw on one of his old hoodies, which he didn’t mind. He loved seeing you in his clothes, seeing the comfort they brought you, making you feel closer to him. When you ended up in the living room again, the Oscars were still playing and you decided to finish watching them with Joe. Your back leaning into his arms with your knees tucked close to your chest. His hand sliding up and down your arm while the other remain across your waist. The final award of the night was up, best actor.

“He’s gonna win I know it.” you said to Joe, he just smiled at you, amazed at your every move.

“And the Oscar for Best Male Actor in a Drama film goes to... Rami Malek in Bohemian Rhapsody.”

Brian’s guitar solo surrounded the entire room as Joe looked to you.

“He did it. I always knew he would do it.”

You loved the friendship they shared. The support they both gave one another.

Joe held you tight as he kissed your lips. The both of you having your own little celebration of kisses. He quickly ran to put We Are the Champions on the record player and lifted you off your feet. His hands wrapped around your waist as he guided you into a slow dance, your head swift to lie on his shoulder. A sudden familiar buzz hit the side table once more. It was Brian.

“Dearest Joe and Y/N, Rog and I have just heard the news. We can’t image the pain you both must be going through during this time. If you need anything don’t be afraid to give us a quick phone. I believe that your little one will beat this bully of a disease. She is a strong one after all, she gets it from her mommy. Lots of love to you all. XX -Bri.”

Joe read the message aloud to you. You both fell into a moment of sadness again. Tears not yet showing from your faces. Brian’s words were comforting to the both of you though. His soul almost connecting with yours. Maybe that was his intention, after all he was the legendary Dr. Brian May. He could do just about anything.

Joe could feel you begin to fall asleep in his arms. His eyes locked onto you. He delicately picked you up bridal style and guided you into the bedroom. He slowly placed you under the covers and set a quick kiss on your forehead before he went to brush his teeth. When he came back you were all snuggled into the comforter before he soon came to cuddle with you. His arm became encased around yours, his lips placing light kisses across your shoulders.

“I love you Y/N. I love you with everything in me.” he whispered, not knowing you were still slightly awake.

“I love you too Joe. More than you could ever know.” you whispered back.

For a day filled with many emotions, this was the moment you had been waiting for all day. To be loved by your husband, your child sleeping soundly down the hall, and all you could ever want lying right there next to you, holding you close and never letting go.

Taglist:

@onehystericalqueeen @queens-n-roses @soberandfurious @sevenseasofky @toger-raylor @sincereleygmg @mrsmazzello @myfreakydeaky @readdyyfreddie @mr-stank-i-dont-feel-so-dank @misterbrianmay @heartsarecompatible @ixchel-9275 @benmeadowstaylor @slutfordeacy-mazello @winnielinleigh @everybodyplaythegame @radioxtaylor @deakyspuff @okiegirl24 @imagines-xxx @classypaintercolorcowboy @super-heros-are-my-life

I hope you all enjoyed Part 3! I put so much into this chapter.

Also it might be a week or so before the next chapter because I am very busy right now!!

Send in Request for more stories!!!

[cncobby]

Fluffy ABC’s series: Joel

happy new years my loves! i hope 2019 is good to all of us (its still 2019 in california but eh close enought)

so this is a new series (maybe) that i’m thinking of starting!! i got inspo while browsing through tumblr and i saw a couple other fandom writers for marvel do this so I wanted to do it for Joel at least bc he my baby but if you guys like this i’m thinking of doing it for the rest of the boys?? lmk what you think!!

i thrive on positive (or any) feedback so hearing what you guys think motivates me and lets me know how i’m doing so i can write more!!

A = Attractive: what do they find attractive about the other?

For you its definitely his hair, you love running your hand through his curls and playing with his hair while you guys are all cuddled up. He loves your smile, the way it lights up the room when he makes you laugh and how your nose scrunches up just slightly when one of the boys tells a bad joke.

B = Baby: do they want a family? why/why not?

He most DEF wants a family with you. We know homeboy wants seven (why this specific number I have NO idea) but he always daydreams about this all the time. Sometimes you guys will just be sitting on the couch, cuddling and watching Netflix or something when he’ll suddenly be like “so when we have kids do I have any say in their names?” And you’re jokingly like “boy who told you I’m giving you kids” he’s like “um duh we’re having seven. Three girls and four boys ... We’ll have to buy a big house since they’re not gonna wanna share when they’re older.” 

C = Cuddle: how do they cuddle?

Like a fucking koala. Literally wraps you around him like a blanket. His head below yours so you can play with his curls. This is his favorite when you guys are lying in bed, trying to fall asleep, or just waking up. He’ll hold you against his body if you try to leave “five more minutes baby, then we’ll get up”

D = Dates: what are dates with them like?

They're super lowkey, but that doesn’t mean they’re anything less than special. You both love nights in since he doesn’t get to spend much time at home with you, so any chance you guys get to cuddle up and catch up on tv while eating your fave foods is always a good time. Its also a good idea so you guys don’t end up getting mobbed/bombarded by fans or paparazzi. Even though most of your dates are at home, he goes out of his way to make them special and surprises you every time. Whether it be ordering food from you favorite restaurant, or hiring a private chef, or sprinkling rose petals on the floor, he knows exactly how to bring a smile to your face.

E = Everything: “you are my ____” (e.g my life, my world…)

“You are my sunshine.” He always compares your smile to the sun. 

“Why do you always say I’m like the sun?” 

“Because you’re the biggest star in my solar system” 

“that was so cheesy” 

“yeah but you love it”

F = Feelings: when did they know they were falling in love?

I feel like it’d be super random and unexpected, like he was having a bad day so you spammed him with goofy pictures and videos and he just felt his heart burst with this overwhelming amount of fondness for you. He looked at your face with that stupid filter on it and just thought at how sad he’d be if he wasn’t able to see that everyday.

G = Gentle: are they gentle? If so, how?

I feel like during sex he’d def be more the slow and sensual type. He loved taking his time with you and seeing all the different sounds and expressions you made when he’d kiss you in certain places. Not to say he wouldn’t be rough at certain times, but I feel like he’s the more gentle love making type.

H = Hand/Hold: how do they like to hold? how do they like to hold hands?

He likes to hold your hands, but a lot of the time he’ll grip your waist while your arm is slung around his. He likes the closeness of this since he doesn’t get to walk around like this with you all the time.

I = Impression: first impression/s

So you were a low-key super fan of them, like running a blog about them super fan but when you saw him randomly at a coffee shop you were like “oh fuck do I ask him for a picture?? Do I respect his privacy?? WHAT DO I DO” but u ended up like just sitting there and not picking any solutions. 

He saw you sitting there alone and was like hooooly who that be. A part of him hoped that you recognized him and were a fan and wanted a picture so that you’d come a talk to him but after he stood around for a few minutes he was like “fuck she has no clue who I am” so as he was walking towards you someone accidentally ran into him and his drink spilled. All . Over . Your . shirt. You were like “holy fuck” and his brain went into panic mode and was like omg I’m so sorry are you ok?? Here take my jacket and legit stripped off his jacket and put it around you.  

And then it was like a really awkward period where you were like silent and petrified and he was panicking bc “oh fuck i spilled a drink on the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.” But then you eventually were like “...well this wasn’t how I was gonna ask my favorite singer for a picture, but...” And he feels such relieft bc OMG she doesnt hate me. You end up getting your picture (and his number!!) and leave smelling like coffee, but with a cute new hoodie and potential boyfriend.

J = Joker: are they into pulling pranks?

He’s not that big of a prankster. The only reoccurring prank he does is surprise you by showing up randomly at your work/school/house when he’s supposed to be on tour. He prob tells super corny jokes ESPECIALLY when you’re having a bad day so you smile at how bad they are.

K = Kisses: how do they kiss?

Lots of quick smooches, one quirk is that he loves to kiss the back of your hand. Every so often, he’ll steal your breath with a slow, deep kiss that leaves you dizzy.

L = Love: who says I love you first?

Well after he realized that you were a fan he knew that you loved him but you were afraid to say it too early out of fear that he’d think it was just fangirl admiration. You don’t officially say it until he does, but he hears you whisper to it after you thought he had fallen asleep.  

M = Memory:  their favourite moment together

When he brought you home to his family for the first time, and you just fit. His mom loved you (thank god you were both freaking out over this) and his brothers instantly bonded with you as if you were their sister. His brothers teased him to no end, but were happy they finally had a sister to love and care for.

N = Nickel: do they spoil? 

He looooves spoiling you. But not only materialistically, even though he loves to buy you gifts. He knows you prefer smaller more meaningful gifts than extravagant ones, so he’ll always buy things with your name on it from all the countries he visits, or sends you one of his hoodies with his cologne sprayed on top so it’s like he’s home with you.

O = Orange: what colour reminds them of their other half

For some reason, he has a habit of buying you things that are yellow. Once you asked him why, and he said  that it reminded him of your smile, the way you light up a room when you laugh or giggle. Also goes along with how he says you’re his sunshine.

P = Petnames: what pet names do they use?

Lots of babe/baby, especially when he’s whining for your attention. 

“hey babe what hat should i wear?”

“baby come cuddle with me”

“look at how cute you are look at how cuuuute my baby is”

He calls you angel on certain occasions, like if you’re mad at him or when you’re having a bad day and he’s trying to cheer you up.

“angel whats wrong?”

“i’m sorry angel, you know I didn’t mean it like that”

“look angel!! this is how happy you make me”

Q = Quaint: what is their favourite non-modern thing?

He loves black and white silent movies. You guys will often call/facetime each other and watch these movies together, making stupid comments throughout the movie to each other.

R = Rainy Day: what do they like to do on a rainy day?

You guys loved to cook/bake on rainy days. Lots of reenacting scenes from your favorite musicals and doing lots of duets of your favorite songs together. (This results in lots of burned cookies)

S = Sad: how do they cheer themselves/each other up

Lots of times he’ll just call you because he’s on tour and will go on a long rant about whatever’s bothering him. But if he’s there with you, you’ll instantly be able to tell if he’s upset bc he’ll just look really pouty and in those times the thing he loves is when you lay his head down on your lap and just gives him a scalp massage while asking whats bothering him.

T = Talking: What do they love to talk about/hear you talk about?

He really likes it when you talk about school/your job because although he loves his life sometimes its nice to feel like a normal person. He likes to talk about all the dumb shennanigans the boys do when on tour and all the beautiful places he’s seen. 

U = Unencumbered: What helps them relax?

Sounds corny and predictable, but singing. He loves doing covers of all songs, and when he’s feeling stressed he likes to cuddle and serenade you.

V = Vaunt: what do they like to show off? What are they proud of?

He loves to show off your couple pics to all the boys. They often find him just scrolling through his photo albums looking at the pictures you guys took together. “Look guys, look how photogenic we are.” “Bro we know you’ve shown us that picture like a million times”

W = Wedding: when, how, where do they propose?

It was about two years after you guys started dating, and you were talking to him about which job offer to take, the current job you had allowed you to travel with him if you wanted to go on tour with him, but the new job you were offered was a definite step up from the one you had, but wouldn’t give you as much freedom. He obviously wanted you to take that one, but you were worried that it’d put a strain on your relationship since you wouldn’t be seeing each other that often and your trust issues started to creep into your mind when all of a sudden he was like “Well would being married make you feel better?” 

And you’re like “…did you just” 

A smirk starts to creep up on his face, “Did I just ask you to marry me? I think so, what do you think angel? Wanna get hitched?” 

You low-key wanna smack that smug smirk off his face but you’re too stunned and just nod. “Yeah I’ll marry you dork” 

Later you guys are cuddling after you ‘celebrated’ your engagement and you’re like ... “You do know your mom is gonna kill you for proposing like this though” and he’s like “FUCK you right”

X = Xylophone: What’s their song?

Sun and Moon from Miss Saigon. The lyrics represented your relationship so well, and you’d always ask him to sing this to you if you weren’t able to fall asleep

Y = You the ___ to my ___ (e.g the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)

He’s a dork so he’d prob make some corny joke like 

“You’re the bomb to my diggity” 

The boys overhear him say that to you and are like bro PLEASE never say that again

Z = Zebra: if they wanted a pet, what pet would they get?

We know his family already has three dogs so I’m sure he’d get another dog! Especially to keep you company when he’s away on tour or doing band stuff!! Bonus scene: I can so see him coming home randomly like “…I got us another dog” and you’re like 

“JOEL WE TALKED ABOUT THIS” 

“ok listen but I went to go get more dog food and he just looked SO SAD”

i hope you guys like it!! its longer than most of my headcannosn and is a different style but i had so much fun writing this and its dear to my heart so show her some love <3

[joon-bugs]

Erupt

“So you’re done talking. I point you out on your bullshit and you decide you don’t want to talk anymore!” You yell down the hallway after him. This is ridiculous. All of it was bullshit. When you two first started dating your arguments consisted of what flavor Doritos to buy or if you were going to watch Dragon Ball Z or Naruto. After spending so much time apart it was hard to relate to each other’s ways. He’d grown so much as a person and as an idol and you stayed your college student self, going with the flow but now you felt like you were in a constant battle to see who was more mature than the other.”

word count: 3333 

pairing: Namjoon/ fem reader

genre: angst and smut

warnings: profanity, dom!fem reader, face sitting, fem riding, sex (lol), alcohol

“Namjoon get the fuck out of my face.”       

The bass of the speakers consumed your anger, making you that much closer to erupting.

“I just don’t understand why you’re mad at me.”

“Will you ever Namjoon? If you want to talk we aren’t doing it in here.” You turned around taking another drag of your four loko, but before you could walk away he yanked your wrist turning you to face him.

“We’re talking now come on.”

“Kim fucking Namjoon I didn't come here to kiss and makeup. If you want to make an appointment with me later you’re more than welcome. Now if you can get in that's a different conversation but you know where to find me Joonie.” You whisper-yelled at him, gently smacking his cheek and leaving the potent trail of sour green apple in your place as you walked away.

You finished off your drink, letting the negativity soak away and the music come back to your senses and take over your body. You grabbed the neck of some random suitor, grinding into his pelvis. You could feel his eyes burning holes into your body as you danced but who gives a damn because drunk you sure didn’t. Three dancing partners later the lights in the apartment were turned on and sweaty bodies filed out the apartment. You pulled out your phone and pulled a successful drunken attempt to dial your little brother's number.

“Jeong-in can you pleaseeeeeee come get me?”

“What happened to Namjoon?”

“Ugh fuck that dude can you come get me please?” Before he could answer your phone was snatched out your hand.

“It’s cool Jeongin I got her. A sober and pissed off Namjoon hung up your phone and led you outside the humid apartment.

“Namjoon WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU DO THAT. Leave. Me. Alone.”

“Calm down.”

“You’re taking me to my house.”

“Not like this, I’m not. Your parents don’t care if you’re 23 they’ll still be pissed if you come home like this.”

“Like what exactly?”

“Y/N you look and smell like a hot ass mess.”

“And you wonder why I’m mad at you all the time.”

“Come on the Lyft is here.” It wasn’t long before you were stuffed into the back seat of a musty Hyundai Sonata. The long ride opted you to fall asleep.

You woke up in a familiar bed in your routine pajamas: a t-shirt and boxers. Of course, you’d end up at Namjoon’s after telling yourself you were done with his bullshit. To hide in his bed or to face the bitch. That was the question. You threw the duvet off of your body in anger and placed your bare feet on the cold hardwood. You stretched and shook out your disheveled hair and walked out to the kitchen where  Namjoon sat at the counter, working on his laptop while sipping on his coffee. His honey blonde hair fell flat on his forehead nearly dangling in front of his eyes.

“You ready to act like the adults we are?” He asked, most likely noticing your footsteps coming down the hallway. His annoying attitude caused you to throw a silent fit behind him. All you wanted was to have a free weekend but now the cheapness of the four loko god’s got the best of you once again. You answered him with the sound of the suction releasing from the fridge and grabbed the unfinished gallon apple juice you left there and chugged it, relieving you of the cottonmouth you woke up with.

“Oh so you want to treat me like an adult now?” you finally responded after wiping your mouth clean of apple juice.

“If you act like a kid I’m going to treat you as such.” Namjoon was still irritatingly deep into his laptop.

“See that’s where you’re wrong, I’m not childish you’re just a control freak trying to hang on to any last bit you can.” You rummaged through his cabinets on the hunt for good hangover snacks. He must have moved them since last week what an ass. You thought sourly.

“I haven’t been grocery shopping since Monday so I ordered our breakfast.”

“Ugh, my savior what would I do without you?” Every bit of sarcasm was laced in your response as you fake fainted against his broad back.

The constant arguing had just happened last month when he came back home for a break. Your free-spirited personality wasn’t as much of a turn on for him anymore and something changed as he felt like he needed to be more controlling. At first, you understood the fact that he didn’t have control of much in his life being that he’s a kpop idol, but as soon as it became a constant routine for him to father you around (and not in a good way), the more you grew irritated. Age wasn’t even an excuse for him you were a normal twenty-three-year-old adult with somewhat of a nine to five job and grad school to take care of. So what if you still thrived within the college night-life, you were a grown woman.

“You’re so fucking irritating.” Namjoon murmured under his breath.

“Then why’d you bring me here? Jeong-in could’ve driven me to my apartment and I would’ve been fine.”

“Because we need to talk Y/N, ignoring me for a week doesn’t solve anything.”

“I know it doesn’t but I needed space and  last time I checked I’m a grown ass woman and I don’t need a helicopter parent.”

“A helicopter parent? So you think me making sure you don’t make stupid mistakes because I love you is me being a helicopter parent.”

“Namjoon it’s not just that it’s you telling me to take off “all that makeup”, I’m a business marketing major I work in the makeup industry everyone looks like this at work. Or when you wake me up an hour before my alarm because you don’t want me to be late to work which I never am. Or is it when you try and to take my drinks from me the one night I let loose because you think I’ve had too much when I know my limits. I’ve known my fucking limits since I was 17 Namjoon. OR WAIT is it when you-” Your rant got cut off by a buzz at the door.

“Food’s here.” Namjoon calmly said before getting up from his almost monumented position. After a quick exchange with the delivery guy, he placed a giant brown bag and drink holder on the kitchen counter and started sorting things out.

“Sweet and creamy iced coffee and two cinnamon bagels with extra cream cheese… your favorite.” He gently slid your breakfast across the granite countertop. A ping of guilt drifted across your body.

“Thanks, Joon.” You two ate in silence kept company by the sounds of knives against bagels and spoons against bowls.

“You know I act like this because I care about you right?”

“I know Joon, but I don’t need a manager”

“Oh and I do?”

“Namjoon you’re a fucking kpop idol of course you do. There’s a difference between your fame and my normal lifestyle.”

“I just don’t understand how I’m controlling.”

“There’s a fine line between being a caring boyfriend and a controlling boyfriend and you’ve been wearing the fuck out of it.  Joon I’m an adult I can take care of myself. Half of these responsibilities you think you have in our relationship you took on yourself because you’re so used to being a leader that you don’t even rest when you get home. There’s two of us in this relationship you don’t need to do everything.”

“So in order for you to get this off of your chest, you had to get drunk at a house party and dance on four random guys?”

“Jesus, Namjoon you are impossible. Dancing doesn’t mean anything if you were paying attention which I know you were, I didn’t even let them touch me. It was just dancing. I’m sorry it wasn’t the most mature way to react.”

“Whatever.”  He quickly collected the trash off of the counter and walked away to his bedroom.

“So you’re done talking. I point you out on your bullshit and you decide you don’t want to talk anymore!” You yell down the hallway after him. This is ridiculous. All of it was bullshit. When you two first started dating your arguments consisted of what flavor Doritos to buy or if you were going to watch Dragon Ball Z or Naruto. After spending so much time apart it was hard to relate to each other’s ways. He’d grown so much as a person and as an idol and you stayed your college student self, going with the flow but now you felt like you were in a constant battle to see who was more mature than the other.

“Namjoon we aren’t done talking.” You pushed open the bedroom door to find him at the edge of the bed with his face in the palms of his hands.

“Namjoon come on. I know we both have stuff to work on. We need to talk about it.” The bed sank under as you sat next to him.

“I’m tired of fighting.”

“I am too. I hate fighting with you.”

“Than stop being so petty.”

“You stop being so damn controlling and we got a deal.”

“See Y/N its shit like that. The way you respond is childish.”

You could feel the anger in you start to rise, it wasn’t long before you erupted into a profanity-filled rant. He knew more than anyone else how to piss you off. He was like a constantly nagging mom that you could never make happy anymore.

“What part of we both have things to work on did you not get?” You threw your anguish filled body on the bed.

“So guys aren’t the only thing you throw yourself on. I’ll take note.”

With those words that left his mouth the last straw was placed on the camel's back. The yell that was about to burst out of your body was a new level of pissed off he had never seen. After being together for two years. Two years of teaching each other how to not only love yourselves but each other. Two years of learning how he likes certain things, things not even the craziest of fans would know. Two years of what must have been the honeymoon stage were about to break into a madhouse. The boy you loved had your blood boiling deep within. And finally, you snapped.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD, I’M THE CHILDISH ONE BUT YOU WANT TO BRING UP OLD SHIT I APOLOGIZED FOR. HAVE YOU BEEN LISTENING TO ME THIS WHOLE TIME OR DID YOU TUNE ME OUT BECAUSE IT’S NOT WHAT YOU WANT TO HEAR?!” You reached back and grabbed the dense decorative pillow from behind you and threw it at the back of his head.

“HUH NAMJOON? HAVE YOU?!”

As soon as the pillow made contact with his skin, he had you pinned underneath him. You could feel the temperature of his wrath radiating off of him, his face centimeters from yours. The sweet scent of his coffee breath flowed into your nostrils.

“Throw something one more time and see what happens.” He nearly growled at you. Your contracted pupils met his, neither of you had ever been this angry with each other before.

“Get off of me.” Your once angry and emotion-filled voice was calm and still.

“You know what?” Namjoon said as he flipped himself off of your body

“Leave.”

“LEAVE? If you want me to leave, tell me you don’t want me anymore and I’ll go.”

Silence filled the room as his body was angled away from you, he was staring blankly at the wall before him. You sat up and waited for his response still in his shirt and boxers. You could hear the occupants of the apartment above you rummaged around. The silence turned into a countdown and it went off once again.

“Great answer Namjoon, I’ll leave!” You grabbed your dress and heels off the nightstand and stormed through the bedroom door.

“I didn’t even say anything!” He said chasing after you. “Well, you didn't answer either. Communicate.” You turned around to face him and argued back, poking him in the chest with every syllable. “Y/N…. stop.” You continued antagonizing him. “You want me to stop because you want two years to go in the trash right? You want me to leave right?” “STOP.” He finally gave in and raised his voice, shocking you when he firmly grasped your upper arms.

“Just fucking stop. Stop jumping to conclusions.” “You were thinking it.” His hands slid up to your face and he brought his forehead to yours.

It felt like the sound of birds chirping after a storm. Emotions didn't subside and evidence of the storm was still there. A new blanket of calm fell in the room.

“No, I wasn’t... I’m sorry I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want you to change. I don’t want to throw us in the trash. I’ll stop.” His lips grazed yours and as he pulled you into a passionate kiss you could feel him towering over you, power still in his stance. You broke away from the kiss.

“You don’t get to be in charge anymore.” You pulled his hands off your face and pushed him against the door returning your lips to his.

“Pick me up.” You managed to get out in between breaths. He groaned into the kiss picking you up. Now it was you that towered over him. Using his neck as support you ground your body onto his abs before giving him more directions. Trying to get any sense of affection he could, he placed sloppy kisses on your neck, causing you to throw your head back as your body was taken over by lust.

“I didn’t- say- you could do that.” You grabbed the hair at the nape of his neck pulling him away and bringing yourself back.

“Walk to the couch.”

Namjoon walked over to the couch with you still in his arms. He stopped in front of the furniture, waiting for his instructions. You slowly moved your mouth along his collarbone up to his ear, trailing your hot breath along the way.

“You’re so good, baby… now sit.” Your bodies fell against the black suede couch. You pulled the giant shirt off of your body and went back to kissing any of his exposed skin you could. Large hands began to dance across the waistband of your borrowed boxers. Coming to a harsh stop your dark eyes met Namjoon’s as you yanked his hands off your body.

“Shirt off. Now.” You watched in awe as his long torso was exposed. You slid off of his lap and began kissing along his waistband, his legs opening in response. Teasing him you moved up his chest, leaving the area that needed your attention the most. You could feel his hard-on against your exposed breast as you left hickeys on his chest. Noticing that, you stood up and bent over so your face was back in front of his.

“Odd of you to assume that you would get some before I got mine. Oh, my sweet boy.” You clutched his jaw in your hand bringing him nose to nose.

“Namjoon baby? Lay down.”

He shifted his body on the couch barely fitting but it was good enough. You began to strip yourself of the boxers, realizing that you didn’t even have your own underwear on.

“Look at Joon doing my work for me.” You taunted, before randomly tossing the boxers somewhere in the living room. The cool air hit your core making you notice how aroused you actually were.

“Mmm Namjoon baby I need you to show me how fast your mouth can actually move. Can you do that for me?”

Not even giving you a chance to say the last word he answered in an instant.

“Of course baby.”

“Good.” You crawled on top of his face planting each knee on the sides of his head lowering yourself onto his mouth. The relief of tension was instant as he moved his mouth harmoniously against your heat, his tongue painting stripes across your folds and his lips sucking on your sweet spot.

“Hold me.” You commanded and his hands gripped your thick thighs bringing you down further on to his mouth. His face was completely buried inside you as you rocked on top of him begging for more. You grabbed onto his honey locks, as the pleasure was so intense you knew it wouldn't be long before you’d try and run from it.

“How do I taste baby? Am I good?” You asked tauntingly. His response was lost, muffling against you, causing vibrations to push you further.

Closer and closer to the edge you were pushed as he showed off his talented mouth.

“Keep going baby I’m so close.” You whimpered, praising his talents. His fingers dug into your thighs as he quickened his pace. A shock was delivered throughout your body suddenly, sending you to an enamored release.

You slid off of him your legs shaking as you stood.

“Baby you’re so hard. Want to take these off?” You pulled at the waistband off his sweatpants, knowing they were the only thing he had on. He nodded, a look of intense need in his eyes.

“Okay. Strip.” His body slithered as he shimmied off his pants not getting off of the couch. His dick sprang free as he rid himself of the pants, precum already dripping down the head.

“You got that turned on from me riding your face baby? Oh, c’mere.” You sat on his lap ignoring his hard-on, but bringing him into a sloppy open-mouthed kiss, not caring if he touched you with or without permission at this point. Lost in the moment you forgot that you never even relieved him. Not that you cared. Dry humping his pelvis you felt his dick brush against your ass reminding you that he was still hard.

“Stop.” You commanded sternly before getting off of him.

You held on to his broad shoulder as you climbed on top of him once again hovering above his dick. Digging your nails into his shoulder you stabilized yourself controlling your speed as you slid onto him agonizingly slow.

“Mmm you feel so good inside of me Joon.” You rotated your hips on him even slower than before, offering him the slightest amount of pleasure.

“Faster, please.” He groaned into your neck.

“Anything for you baby.” Picking up your pace your thighs began to burn, knowing you were going to cum again. How could you not? His hands slid from your thighs up to your back pulling your body closer to his, pressing you chest to chest. The close proximity caused your bouncing to slow down to a grind, pushing you both higher than before. You felt the absence of one of his hands from your back but soon felt it in between your thighs, his thumb massaging your clit causing you to lose focus. He took over and flipped you on to your back, switching positions to pound into you from behind.

“Make me cum again Namjoon.” You cried out, gripping the suede under you in tight fists. He quickened his pace, going at a much better rhythm than you were at. It wasn’t long before you were a moaning mess underneath him, quickly falling apart with him following suit seconds after you releasing into you. He released a long drawn out groan before twitching inside of you. His body weight fell on top of you as he collapsed, his sweaty skin flush with yours. Your hands moved up to his hair combing through it.

“See what happens when you let go and let me take charge Namjoon?”

Written by Jo

[kewltie]

Bc this is me we’re talking about, here are some infos about my non-existent hpverse bakudeku fic:

Mitsuki and inko are bffs (some even say soulmate), having met at Hogwarts and getting sorted into gryffindor in their first year they soon became fast friend bc mitsuki despite being terrifyingly beautiful (bc of her veela heritage) and powerful she wasn’t super popular due to mostly her temperament and force of personality but she does get her rapid fanclub. Inko was much adore by the student body and teachers bc how humble and kind she was despite being from a pureblood family, easily making her the head girl in her 7th year. Together the both of them were a force to reckon with, they were the talk of the school when they attend there and so much stories about their antics become legend bc mitsuki ‘the bad girl’ and inko the ‘good girl’ was such a weird combo nobody know how they remain the bestest of friends.

inko was from powerful magic family but she broke rank when she fell in love with a muggleborn (A SLYTHERIN MUGGLEBORN AT THAT). She like mitsuki is also a legacy Gryffindor so she was disowned for choosing her muggleborn boyfriend instead of a hundred of years of tradition. Mitsuki was the only one who support and stuck by her through it all and it’s kinda ironic to everyone that mitsuki is notorius as the rulebreaker in school but it is inko who turned back against everything to follow her heart. At least mitsuki married another Gryffindor pureblood but lol she didn’t chose her husband bc of that only bc her husband was the only one who was immune to her veela charm bc he was her soulmate.

ANYWAY, now on to the bakudeku who grew up side by side bc of their mothers and katsuki even as young as he was was extremely powerful. Maybe it’s bc of his blood line or maybe it’s his veela side but he always been blessed with powerful that seem bottomless while izuku for the first ten year of his life developed no magic at all. Everyone thought he was a squib bc of that and they whispered maliciously that is what you get for polluting the pure magic bloodline with dirty muggle blood :(((.

Katsuki knew at a v v v young age that izuku is his soulmate but bc izuku shown no sign of magic and katsuki as the spoiled much love son of an ancient pureblood family (WELL BOTH since his parents are both pureblood), he was arrogant and elitist thinking he was superior to izuku in everyway. He didn’t want izuku, THIS FAILURE, as his mate at all but no matter how much he fought it to his very core he can’t help being drawn to izuku by some greater force then he know how. Izuku never realize or find out that he and katsuki are mate. He just think he’s one of the few people who is immune to veela’s charm just like his mother.

Izuku finally get his magic power from all might later around the time Hogwarts start for them. All might was kinda curse/bless (???) with a spell that make his core magic to be able to pass down from one person to another. It has to do with AFO bc he’s the immortal dark lord who to helped his squib brother get magic power he STOLE it from others (AFO creating a spell that steal magic cores) and that’s how OFA was born. Izuku is the newest heir in the long line of people destine to face the dark lord who is v much ALIVE AND THRIVING in secret.

By the time bakudeku get to Hogwarts izuku and katsuki had a very tenuous relationship bc katsuki hated the fact that his mate is pathetic squib but then he suddenly developed magic and KATSUKI doesn’t know what to feel about it. On one hand that level the playing field b/t them a little bc izuku isn’t a pureblood and he got this idea in his head that muggle and wizards/witches are all equal despite their lack of magic bc he’d learned it from from his dad side when he got exposed to muggles and knows they aren’t all evil/weak. Bc katsuki came from a traditional house with thousands of years of magic and history at their back, katsuki grew up thinking he was superior to everyone else so izuku and katsuki often clash with their world/social views.

This make their relationship even more strain when katsuki (like the sorting hat barely touch HIS HEAD before it declare him a Gryffindor) saw izuku was sorted into hufflepuff instead of Gryffindor like him. It actually took the sorting hat one of the longest time to declare izuku’s house bc izuku share many strong traits from various houses (bravery, loyalty, smart, kind) houses that he could easily fall into any of them but in the end the sorting hat gave izuku a choice and he’d chosen hufflepuff bc that’s the house that often get overlook by others. AND IT’S ALSO THE HOUSE THAT KATSUKI HATES AND LOOKS DOWN UPON THE MOST. izuku admires katsuki deeply and would follow him anywhere but he realizes it’s time he carve out his own path and hufflepuffs are strong and noble just like the rest of the other houses and izuku will spent seven years proving to the rest of the school :DD.

With being from two diff houses, katsuki and izuku sorta STARTED an intense house rivaly b/t the two houses even though hufflepuffs lit get along with nearly everyone and never really get into interhouse fighting b.s. that other houses get. Katsuki immediately become one of the star of his house being that his family got a lot weight to throw around and that he’s also 1/8th veela. So many rumors and interest swirl around katsuki and he thrives on them, showing exactly how katsuki deserves to be one of the top students of the year. He’s particularly best at dueling & potion and placing in his house quidditch team the first year. Izuku, on the other hand, nobody really expected anything out of him but he consistent surprises everyone with being esp good at charm and transfiguration that outdo older students.

Izuku absolutely flourish in Hogwarts and is literally friends with many people in diff houses that izuku’s table is fill with other ppl from various houses bc izuku doesn’t really have strict view on house rivalry and who should hang with whom (his bestfriend ochako is from gryff and iieda is from ravenclaw; making the three of them the ‘golden trio’). People even whisper it’s like inko is back in school again and EVERYONE LOVES INKO. Katsuki is almost equal in term of popularity to izuku mainly bc he consistent outperform many people of his age group and even ABOVE in spellworks, power, and dueling. he’s also exceedingly attractive bc of his veela heritage so he always got a flock of fans wherever he go…. It’s just his prickly personality that keep him from being uh too popular lol.

Katsuki, SLOWLY and surely, spent the years watching izuku really grew into his own through many trials thrown at him bc izuku despite being a hufflepuff (a house that isn’t known for any notoriety) is a trouble magnet and get into ALL SORT OF HIGHJINKS. Followers of the dark lord attempting to kill/sabatoge/kidnap izuku bc of OFA and katsuki get pisser with every attempt bc HOW FUCKING DARE THEY TOUCH HIS MATE????!!!!!! It’s not like katsuki suddenly get over his bigot and elitist mentality but with exposure from his housemates and the rest of the school, he slowly understand how warped his world views was but it doesn’t make it easier for him to accept that izuku IS HIS MATE only bc katsuki hate the idea of anything being force upon him and that he can’t chose who he can be with and also THAT IZUKU can’t choose him either. The thought of alone keep him up some nights when he is plague with doubt that izuku would never choose him if they weren’t bonded with each other…

Izuku still doesn’t realize they’re mate bc katsuki never told him and izuku is… uh very oblivious but around their fifth/sixth year katsuki’s attitude slowly change around him. He becomes more attentive and careful with izuku which suprises him at first but he just thought katsuki wants to become friends again lmao. In katsuki’s case though, IZUKU nearly died in one run in way the dark lord and katsuki lost it when he thought izuku was dead and he never ever want to feel that helpless and utter despair again know that he know what it mean to him to lose izuku bc he had been in love with izuku all along. So yea IT’S TIME FOR VEELA’S COURTING BULLSHIT :DDD.

Veela despite their frail beauty is actually a magical creature that v v v much like a bird of prey; they’re fighters and volatile. Katsuki to show izuku that HE IS A GOOD THE BEST MATE, constantly show off in class and dueling (beaTing izuku in the process lmao) that he can provide and strong enough to protect izuku. HE gives izuku one of his feathers as a gift knowing how much izuku loves his wings ever since they were children even though GIVING FEATHERS pretty much mean I WANNA MARRY YOU AND MATE FOR LIFE but izuku didn’t know that.

The slow seduction/courtship of izuku was the most agonizing and difficult thing ever for katsuki. Taking on four dark lords would be easier than courting izuku bc katsuki does It in the most roundabout way possible; HE’S BASICALLY COURTING IZUKU W/O EVERY REVEALING THAT HE’S COURTING IZUKU and everyone to their friends and parents just sigh v v v v v deeply bc WHY YOU GOT TO MAKE IT THIS HARD. But katsuki wants to win izuku over through brute force of affection, gifts, and interest in him instead of some bullshit destiny thing like mate.

izuku loves katsuki since they were children but he ISNT’ IN LOVE WITH HIM until much later in their sixth year when katsuki risk it all to save him in the triwizard tourntament. IZUKu actually was selected as one of the champion (which pisses KATSUKI OFF SO MUCH but he’s older now and mature enough not to hate izuku for it) and in one of the trail izuku nearly lost his life once more and katsuki was the one who jumped in to save him WHICH IS HILARIOUS BC THAT’S THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN BC KATSUKI IS THE ONE WHO GOT KIDNAPPED AS HIS ‘MOST TREASURE PERSON’ which izuku had no clue about but once he realize how true that was.... it was game over for izuku bc he’s finally opened his eyes to what katsuki been LITERALLY COURTING HIM SINCE THEIR FIFTH YEAR lol.

[rivetgoth]

I keep wanting to talk about my stupid band OCs but when i try i forget what words are idk. theyre an industrial band called Heat Pit and there’s three members and they’re kind of an homage to all my favorite bands but really fucked up and stupid. the three members are E.C., Eris, and King Ramses.

E.C.’s name is Eric Christian & he’s from the deeeeep South. he loves trad goth and old school industrial and experimental electro stuff. he plays keyboards of all kinds. he’s extremely extremely shy and quiet and people mistake that for him being sweet and nice but he’s really just sort of a dick in reality. he’s very self absorbed and hates most people and is just standoffish and likes to be left alone. he bitches constantly on tour cuz he hates being stuck with his bandmates for too long and he never goes out and does fun things with them and he’ll disappear ALL DAY before a show and barely make it back in time. he’s very... detail oriented, he likes to construct weird little inventions and creatures with little scraps of things he finds because it entertains him, he likes puzzle solving, he really appreciates little in-the-moment things, he loves nature and stargazing and watching the clouds and shit like that. because he’s so shy he refuses to sing and hates his singing so his solo work is always purely instrumental unless he’s collaborating. he also tends to wear some kind of face covering on stage so he has this weird mysterious aura around him, he almost never does interviews and if he does its with a bandmate and he almost never speaks. he worked in a record store with Ramses after graduating high school because college was miserable for him and he went to the same high school as Eris so he’s a middleman between them because he knows them both.

Eris’ name is also Eric cuz I thought it’d be funny to have two characters with the same name as an homage to you-know-what -___- His music taste tends to be like, synth stuff, new wave, post punk... Eris was born in LA but his family were like devout intense Christians and they moved to some shitty small dirt town in the South cuz they said they were called by God or w/e so Eris was dragged across the country to the pit of Hell and it was miserable. He was miserable. He hates God and he has religious trauma xddd. He was a choir boy throughout school and everyone praised him for having the voice of an angel. He learned to play guitar and did low budget local Christian rock gigs in high school. everyone loved that. he didnt. He realizes he was gay and his life fell apart. goth culture provided a place of solace for him and he started exploring harsher scarier shit in part to get away from the whole “uwuw what an angel!!!!” rep he had with his ugly christian rock stuff. Eris’ original stage name was Eros but he changed it cuz Eris was edgier. He wears fucked up gothic pseudodrag a lot and he is very excitable and energetic and very unafraid to aggressively speak his mind, but he doesnt really know exactly who he is or what he wants to be, hence the frequent name changes, and he ends up struggling the most with drug abuse as the band relations get worse over time :(

King Ramses ends up changing his name to Anubis later in life and he’s a major character in my novel LOL. Ramses is into all industrial stuff and metal and especially industrial metal. he’s from Europe, Greece I think, he’s Greek and Egyptian and he moved to Britain to go to university there and get a philosophy degree. he was a poet his entire life and he was exceptionally good at manipulating people and presenting himself however would best suite him, he adopted a very very upper class british accent and made himself out to be this elite rich intellectual despite being a foreigner from a pretty poor home. he’s incredibly good at reading people and then conforming to what will suite him best in their eyes. he’s a control freak but he’s good at it. he’s fascinated with the occult, with spirituality, with art, with philosophy, and he comes to consider himself a neotranscendentalist. hes an attention seeker and a thrill seeker and he played multiple instruments so he decided to move to the US and become a musician. he needed a band because he thrives so much on leading others, being a solo artist bored him, so he convinced E.C. (who really had only wanted to do solo stuff) to form a band with him after they met while working together at a record store. Ramses becomes increasingly fascinated by body modification and performance art & by the time of my novel he’s gone through extreme extensive body modification but that’s a whole other story 🤗

Heat Pit ends up falling apart cuz frankly they’re all assholes LMFAO. They all hook up with each other at various points and whichever one isn’t currently in the relationship ends up being a really bitter third wheel. they’re all very much control freaks in their own way and very uncompromising. In the end the final instigator is another OC named Sugar who’s a goth macabre pop performance artist & model. he’s really into self mutilation in his work. he’s fucked up. he meets Ramses at a club and the two start dating and Sugar’s influence is abhorrent. things collapse after that. Sugar actually ends up killing himself eventually which sets Ramses down this path where he becomes fascinated by the art of death and death as art which is when he becomes obsessed with body modification stuff. E.C. and Eris eventually reconnect after not speaking to each other for a long time and start dating in a slightly healthier fashion but things remain awkward forever. Eris disappears off the face of the planet and is presumed dead for like a decade but he’s “fine”? Yeah. Shit happens. :/

[ramenfallsbutnotudon]

Twirling Around Earth’s Minerals – a (short) Erik Killmonger Fanfic

Twirling Around Earth’s Minerals – a (short) Erik Killmonger Fanfic (w/ some slightly added smut lol)

Word Count: About 2,300 words.

TW: Slight inclinations of co-dependency, murder/killing trigger, mind games, mental illness and depression. Sexual undertones. Not outright smut…

Possibly one shot? Idk lol

Synopsis: It’d been a few days since you (the reader) and Erik had really spoken. You hadn’t been fighting, but you hadn’t been really ‘connected’ either. There’s a lot of unsaid words hanging in the air, and a bit of sexual tension. You decide to break the tension by talking about rocks and Earth’s Minerals. Yes…that’s right. Minerals found deep within the Earth’s surface. And your feelings about Erik…

I seen a post here a while ago on Tumblr about a writing prompt generator. One of them was “Your character is prone to hair-twiddling when bored.” I meant to write a descriptive exercise with Erik twirling his hair but it turned into some philosophical bullshit and an (attempt) at exploring his psyche and whoever chooses to be in a relationship with him. I shouldn’t even post this. This is in the same universe as my [other fic]. So basically following the canon BP storyline this is a few months (or maybe more) before he goes to London.

If anyone wants to send me writing prompts, please do. I don’t think I can do T’Challa (I can’t relate to him/kind of dislike his character), but I can definitely do Erik and/or M’Baku. If the character is complicated & “messy”, it is a go…

-Ramenfallsbutnotudon

(Writing music this time was just “Focus” by H.E.R. on repeat. Then “Hallucinations” by dvsn towards the end. Hence the slight sexual undertones…)

I don’t know why he does that…

Erik was sitting across from you beneath a window, the light catching in his hair. A deep reddish tint cast his dreads with light golden undertones. His baby hairs were unkempt and his hair was due to be re twisted soon. Erik sat listless; twiddling his locs absentmindedly – deep in thought about something that seemed far off. He was here physically, but his presence was nowhere to be found. It’s strange, isn’t it? How a living breathing human being could be less than a yard away from you, but you suddenly feel all alone.

He’d been moody all morning. He was always moody. Or maybe you had just been too cheerful these days. You liked looking at the way the light reflected off of his skin. It was a beautiful chestnut brown color when the sun shone on it.  The shadows cast mahogany undertones. Or maybe Sienna would be a better way to describe it. He reminds me of minerals deep in the earth. Hard to find, but precious and valuable once they come to light. But the earth buried so many secrets. So many things that could take ions and innumerable centuries to recover. Darkness breeds secrets and harbors things only those in those circumstances would understand. That is Erik. That is how he is when he is like this. I don’t know if I am the crane pulling him from the dark place, or another lost gem hidden amongst the dirt. Something that was here all along but is treated as foreign and alien – yet prized for its beauty and uniqueness.

Erik was sprawled out sideways in a purple armchair. His legs dangled and danced over an arm rest anxiously. You thought the armchair was kind of gaudy but he said he was “feeling it” when he seen it online. It had a very wide back and looked like some shit you’d see out of The Jetsons.

Some futuristic shit.

On the flip side, maybe it looked a bit like the wicker chair from that iconic Huey P. Newton photograph that hung in Erik’s room for years. Erik had always been into photography and all that other artistic shit. He loved going to indie photo exhibitions wearing glasses with a coffee in his hand. He always choose a different small Black-Owned business to support each time. Of course though, he didn’t always return. Sometimes the coffee was just that shitty despite his need to support it. You tried them along with him. However, your tastes sometimes didn’t match. He liked bitter coffee with a tiny drop of sugar and hardly any milk or cream. You liked too much milk and cream and even sugar. Sometimes it was just like that, loving someone who purposefully drank bitter things. Someone who didn’t want sweet things all the time because he knew that life wasn’t always sweet.

You stand up and slowly saunter over to him. Not in a provocative way, but in an airy almost dreamlike state. You didn’t know why, but you always felt a bit nervous around him. He didn’t scare you or intimidate you. You knew he’d never harm you…he was just too damn unpredictable. Not in an “I-am-walking-on-eggshells-because-my-partner-is-a-loose-cannon” type of way, but an “I-want-him-to-open-up-to-me/don’t-spook-the-deer” type of way. Is that even a thing, “don’t spook the deer”? I don’t think people would even think he was a deer. They’d think he was the jaguar. After all, he does have golden fangs.

But it’s true – he is a bit of both. But how can one be the predator and prey? Can a person be two people at the same time – two shifting dynamics melding into one?

Maybe it is the issue of the outward appearance vs the inward self. Erik has this bravado about him – like he’s Robin Hood or the Hood’s Daddy or some shit but other times he just seems scared. Unsure of himself and his actions. I don’t even think he notices that sometimes when he’s trying to be guarded – he’s completely transparent.

You lower your body down and rest its weight on your hind legs. Crouching in front of Erik’s body you tenderly caress his leg.

“Erik?”

He shuddered before turning his head to acknowledge you. In one swoop he lifted both of his legs and rested them between your frame. His boots made a light thud as his feet touched the wooden floor.

You look up at him and slide to your knees.  You felt like his eyes were looking right through you. They were dark, like newly formed chunks of obsidian after a volcanic eruption.  His eyelids seemed heavy, like he’d been up all night. Thinking back, you weren’t even sure if he slept fully the entire night or just lay silently next to you so you wouldn’t worry. There were so many little things you seemed to miss about him, and others were as apparent as the day was long. But then again, even the days take a break in winter and let the darkness yield over. Erik seemed like winter and fall and you felt like the spring. You met in summer and since you were spring you could handle the temperatures of fall. But not winter. It was a bit too cold and dark for you but he seemed to thrive in it. He pursed his lips before letting a smile break over his face.

“Hey, Princess” he said in a husky voice.

“Princess? When did I get that upgrade?”

His smiled seemed to fade a bit. You only meant to tease him.

“It’s always been yours. Just because I never said it, doesn’t mean I never thought it.”

You rose to your feet and looked down at him. He followed your body up and gazed wistfully at your stature now towering over him. His eyes then traveled down past your breast and to your navel. He leaned in and let his forehead rest on your womb.

“Hey…” you started, unsure of how to start the conversation you’d been having in your head for the last half hour.

“Hmm?”

You felt the vibrations of his voice mix with the rhythms of your body. Your heart beat. You felt your palms start to get clammy.  

On a seemingly queue, Erik reached for your hands and encircled his arms around your hips.

“I’m-I’m sweaty”

“I don’t care” his muffled voice indicated coolly.

You felt the weight of his head and the warmth of his body. It felt nice. Just standing here, in this moment.  You looked around his apartment. The living room was a bit bare, but there was an abundance of natural light. You watched dust particles lightly dance in a breeze coming in from an open window. He didn’t seem to enjoy being alone at home much. He mainly stayed at your place often…that is when he wasn’t out of the country or “on a mission”.

Your head started to throb at that word. Mission. You hated when he left. But you understood that he needed to find closure, even if his way meant sometimes killing people.

Erik kills people, but I still love him. What type of person does that make me?

You hold onto his arms. The grip in his biceps are tense.

Does he expect me to let go?

You decide to move closer, your heart beating out of your chest. You slide down onto his lap and position yourself in the sideways manor he was initially sitting. He exhales deeply and shifts himself in the chair. You feel a growing bulge between his legs. You angle your bottom over it sideways and smile at him. He beams back at you before attempting to kiss you. You turn away and let his lips brush against your cheek instead. A confused look passes his face for an instant before he sags his shoulders and reclines back in the chair.

You instantly feel bad.

Back to square one now.

You shift in the chair again and you see him close his eyes. He inhales deeply; you rest your head on his shoulder.

“You teasing me today, huh?” he says in a gruff voice.

He sounded frustrated, but you didn’t feel like it was about that.

“No” you chime innocently, reaching a hand over his face to stroke his bristly beard. He needed a shave as well, he’d been in a mood the past three days and hadn’t really done much. Then again, you were on a five day old wash n go so you couldn’t really fault him there. Maybe both of you were in your feelings, and not talking about it had made things worse.

But despite the tension hanging in the air, it didn’t feel uncomfortable. It just felt like you were vibing on each other’s energy, waiting for the other to make the first move; Afraid of saying the wrong thing and creating an environment that takes a turn for the worst.

He closed his eyes and you reached your face down to his lips. His breathing stopped in anticipation for a kiss. You licked his lips like a cat and his eyes flung open before smiling.

“What was that?” he asked, now starting to giggle. His eyes lit up with a brightness that reminded you of metallic stones.

You put up a hand and curl it into a paw.

“Meow” you say while patting the paw across his chest.

Your eyes meet and you both burst into laughter. He wraps his arms around you and you kiss his forehead. He then leans up to kiss yours.

Maybe now.

“If we were stones, what type do you think we’d be?”

He holds your gaze for longer than usual, still smiling.

“Babe, sometimes you have some weird shit on your mind” he said before laughing again.

“Here I thought you were mad at me for some shit I couldn’t think of-“

“-I thought you were mad at me?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. He swallowed hard before trying to make himself smile again. He thought you didn’t notice, but you did. You pull away from him and he stiffens up. He readjusts himself to sit up straight, the swell in his pants semi-stiff.

“Erik” your voice begins to crack “what is going on with you lately?”

Erik looks away from you and over his right shoulder. He licks his lips. You felt him grow hard beneath you. You raised your eyebrow.

“So you noticed….I guess I have been acting out of pocket, huh?” he said in a clearly forced calm voice.

I guess he thought that was convincing. His breathing is uneven. Maybe I shouldn’t say anything.

He lifted his shirt up over his head and took it off. There were shadows cast on his scars. You also noticed that there was a fresh black and blue mark on his shoulder blade.

“Erik…when did…” you tried to begin but were at a loss for words. He always at least hinted at when something like this happened. You had no idea. Had he hid it from you? Were you not paying attention?

“It’s two, actually…” he let his voice trail off after looking at your horrified face.

His eyes looked distant. He lowered them and nodded his head as he looked at something far away on the floor. His brows were scrunched together. His nostrils were flared. You could feel his heart beating in his chest. Fluttering, like butterfly wings.

You breathe in.

“…you…” you look into his eyes and he looks away. You grab his face. “When-?” your voice sounded breathless.

“A few days ago” he affirmed nonchalantly. Erik began to pick at the lining in the chair.

How could he be so callous about this?

You wanted to ask details but decided that maybe you didn’t want to know. You lay your head back on his shoulder and kiss his neck. He wasn’t hard anymore. You were happy about that.

He didn’t disgust you, you just didn’t understand him sometimes. Or understand the secrets he harbored deep within himself. You weren’t afraid of his truths, but rather his lies. Lies were capable of doing more harm than any truth could. At least that had always been your experience.

He closed his eyes and let you kiss his neck. You started to use your tongue, leaving wet marks across his skin. He shifted in the chair and let out a stifled moan. You moved up to his collar bone and left marks with your teeth. He wraps his hands around your body and picks you up to push you against the nearest wall. You both smile and you laugh as he goes up your neck with his lips. They feel soft and springy across your body. Like they are soaking up any doubts you held deep in your heart. You looked at him and caught his eye before closing yours again. He seemed troubled. The image burned in your mind as he slid off your clothes while cradling you in his arms. You tried undoing his clothing. He slammed you back into the wall hard and broke off a kiss to ask if you were alright. You held his face and nodded yes. Slowly, he slipped inside of you.

Obsidian and Praseodymium. That’s what we’d be. One was born from volcanic eruptions, the other a rare mineral found in the Earth’s crust. One is used to make tools for cutting but is brittle. The other is only completely stable in water. It has to be submerged to survive. Maybe that’s why I like him so much. He was born in waters only I can thrive in.

Obsidian and Praseodymium.

A/N: About the slight co-dependency…I was trying to target emotionally destructive behavior. I added this in because I think Killmonger would definitely exhibit some of this in his personality. Like yeah he’s confident and swaggering and sexy but he wouldn’t be like that 24/7 – or when he was alone with his thoughts. Also…I don’t know him personally or whatever – but it seems like MBJ might have a bit of this in his personality as well. I basically searched through his entire Instagram because I had an idea for another fic, and some of his posts seem kind of…lonely? Especially that “lost files” shit from 2016 and then posts after Black Panther he seems like a totally different dude. No more videos, cutesy photos, photos with actual friends…Which is understandable but at the same time it’s kind of like…dude what happened? It’s a visible shift. Then the whole lowkey thottie thing and Saweetie’s song 23 that talks about how he was really hung up on their last conversation then fucked her brains out in broad daylight…speeding down the highway high and she said they could have fucking died…I mean again I will probably never meet that man but if he hides his personal life and shit like this can be interpreted by the low-key actions we do hear about him? Unless I’m just projecting Lol, I fucking could be…

Really been in my feelings lately and it won’t go away, so I may as well milk it until I return back to “normal”. I’m also trying to decide on the journey to the ending for the last smut piece I wanna write that has now turned from a one-shot to a trilogy in my head lmao.

I also referenced photos of him as killmonger and one photo with that coon Donald Glover at the Met GALA on his Instagram for tone descriptions. That one has some weird lighting but it’s in line with what I was imagining lol. I wish I was better at describing skin tones, or more confident with it I should say.

[voltron-queen-140]

My Notes on Season 8 - Part 1 of 2

I'm writing them as I watch the series but they may not be in order completely. My opinions and whilst I know no one cares I'm writing them anyway.

Episode 1:

PIDGE WITH BUNCHES IS THE BEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN

The original Voltron is a TV show based on them?! Love it!

"I don't really sound like that, do I bae bae?"

Hunk is best bro/wingman 11/10 need a Hunk in my life

Okay I guess Allurance is happening. Good for Allurace shippers! I'm happy for you!

"Grounded? I wasn't aware humans could float" Romelle, I honestly love you.

Pidge is 15, nice to get an actual age

She's also grounded omg rip

"Apparently saving my brother and dad doesn't get me a pass!"

"We'll make sure she doesn't leave the ground once"

PIDGE NO, PUT YOUR NORMAL OUTFIT ON

ALSO STOP WITH THAT VOOOOOOICE

Keith and Lance bonding 😍 it's not what I was hoping for but I didn't expect it to be canon, I'll take what I'm given.

Ugghhhh I need more of Lance family dynamic!!!! Fanfic writing time.

Oh no no no, it's a little early in the relationship for "I love you" ugh I always cringe when people say I love you in shows and books when they've only been going out for like a day, no matter the ship.

Episode 2:

Baby/kid Lotor is cute

I like how he was named

Seeing how Lotor was raised I can't blame him for being a little... extravagant

OMG HE WAS ACTUALLY WORKING WITH THE PEOPLE ON THAT PLANNET AND IT GOT DESTROYED?! W O W THAT HAS TO HURT.

Episode 3:

Am... am I meant to remember this dude?

Oh? OH! So you're gonna insult Keith for being a half breed hu? And the Blade for accepting him as one of them? Hahahaha I hate you.

"Okay.... or we could just do this *hacks*" PIDGE MY QUEEN YAS

Rotten... food goo? If food goo can go rotten why didn't the food goo go rotten in the castle of Lions after 10 thousand years?

"I don't know what it's going to take to get it through your thick skull, but we are not your enemy" aaaahhhh I see the red paladin in my boy Lance now. I could jam to that all day, YES MY BOY. -right after that guy accused Keith of releasing the monster deliberatly, I know it means nothing but my Laith shipper heart will treasure it for years to come-

That monster hurt cosmo so I'm going to hurt it.

Of course the Galra and the Galra Half-breed are the ones locked in a room with the Galra hating monster. Of course.

Lance's face when Keith -and the other guy but shhhhh- gets locked in, has me in tears. My ship may not sail but I'll cherish these moments.

Also Pidge and Hunk's faces. I stan a paladin space family

"Keith!" "We're coming for ya!" I 👏 STAN 👏 ONE 👏 SPACE FAM 👏

KEITH'S BAYARD BECAME A GUN BLASTER THING OMG I'M SCREAMING

Episode 4:

Omfg Pidge's love of the olcary is so pure

"ThAt WaSN't ThE RhYMe!"

I was not ready to see my gal cry again. Please protect her

Pidge is a QUEEN

Episode 5:

Ha

GAY

That is all

Episode 6:

I missed Slav

Uuuuugghhhhhh guys I don't have the patience for an atlas and a voltron transformation

Oh thank Quiznack they skipped the Voltron transformation

Ezor's voice sounds different but idk

Zethred's techie is a m a z i n g I love him

"How do we fix it?" "for starters you have to TAKE OFF YOUR SOOOOOCKS"

Fucking Lotor's back

Episode 7:

Okay... kinkade is cute.

"You making a movie?! Cool. Can I be in it? No wait, if this is an action movie- is it?- I don't wanna be in it."

"I'm sorry I yelled at you. I'll make you some doggie treats later."

Seriously though who let bae bae come on this mission? Could she not have stayed with someone on earth? Is it wise to have a dog bouncing around a space ship that can turn into a mech and fights in battles?

"But... I like cooking."

"So... is this interview over?" "N o. Great. Now the talent is getting restless."

"The camera!" "Leave it! We need to go!" "BUT THIS IS GOLD" okay. Okay my love for these two is growing.

W- was that Sal from Vepit Sal's?

"Need to get someone more exciting in here" *cuts to Coran*

Okay so more Allurance, I'm happy for Allurance shippers, bet you guys are thriving!

"No that's private" Kinkade you're so sweet! Too good for this world.

Hunk is such a sunshine child I love him!

Episode 8:

Okay. Allurance is cute. It's growing on me.

"I better go find the arcade and... make sure it's safe" *noom* "uhhh me too" *noom* "me three" *noom*

*elongated sigh* Allura. You fell right into their trap. You still trust Lotor and now I'm feeling iffy about your relationship with Lance again right after it started go grow on me. You aren't over Lotor yet are you?

🎵Coran Coran the Non-Truth telling man🎶

Pidge is hitting coran as if she's been waiting to do it for a long time... what did he ever do to you Pidge?

"Okay that's a start! Did you get a good look at- it's me isn't it." I WILL NEVER NOT LOVE THIS BOY

🎶"Wadda we say? Clear day clear day clear-"🎶 "I've gotta get out of here" my BOY

"In that case you can get one of these shovels and dig yourself out of the hole you find yourself in." I STAN THIS GIRL CAN SHE BE MY FAVOURITE BACKGROUND CHARACTER?!?!

I call using a mechanical arm in an arm wrestling match cheating but kay. IT'S NOT EVEN ATTACHED TO HIS BODY WTF

Pidge puppy eyes!

Pidge and colleen bargaining on the photo is amazing! Yes.

So... is that chick Matt's girlfriend? Because I will happily add that to my mountain of Matt ships yes yes.

So clearly Allura still likes Lotor but she also likes Lance which is why she's so close to freeing that damned thing (I refuse to say entity becuase it's been said enough) when both of them talk to her.

Well FU-

Keith's having a mental breakdown. I can't blame him, could you imagine being stuck on It's a Small World for hours?

"THAT'S IT" *slices through bar with his Bayard and runs*

Once again, am I meant to remember this guy?

Shiro winning that arm wrestle because he looked at the team is the new "do it for them"