#he made wear pink with him and put glittery makeup too

[g0blinh0urs]

the barbie movie just came out in my country so me and my brother just went to see it. i loved it! i could go on for a while on how well the movie got how societal expectations for both women and men suck, or how i loved the set design, or how the small scene with the old lady on the bench made me emotional BUT my favorite part of this entire experience was going to the mall and seeing almost everyone wearing pink. like, 90% of the people there wearing pink shirts and short dresses and puffy jackets, like! i lost count on how many guys wearing hot pink i saw today. while we were on the line waiting to get tickets, we heard so many people excitedly talking about their expectations for the story and the music and i dunno, i just felt so happy seeing so many people at the same place all with the same purpose of seeing this silly pink movie and. dunno. it made me happy.

#text post #barbie #barbie movie #also seeing my brother so happy to see the movie was great #when the trailer was announced he almost died of excitement #he’s been waiting for WEEKS for this day #this movie was literally made for him #he made wear pink with him and put glittery makeup too #the things we do for the people we care about….

[imthebadguyyy]

Hey, hope you’re doing well? 😌✨ I saw you opened requests for Lewis and I thought about one where reader and him are out somewhere at an event and the subtle physical affection they have. They’re both rubbing the inside of each others arms at different moments and they’re also smiling at each other when the other isn’t looking 🤭 I miss seeing fluff so that’s why I’m requesting it 🤣😭😭

Sugar Sweet Kisses and Velvet Caresses

pairing : lewis hamilton x reader

fandom : f1

synopsis : lewis can't quite keep his eyes off at you at the fia prize giving, but little does he know you can't keep your eyes off of him either.

requested!

a/n : thank you sm for requesting and interacting it means the world to me!! and i hope your enjoy it ☺️ also this image of lewis goes so well with this prompt

warnings : tooth rotting fluff

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

while lewis did generally enjoy galas because it meant he could go all out and dress up to the t, the prize giving gala was just plain boring.

it was the same droll jokes and mildly tense atmosphere as both toto and christian made petty speeches, that had him rolling his eyes and downing shot after shot of the non alcoholic beverage that had been provided for the table he was sharing with valterri, and his girlfriend tiffany.

he was mildly placated by the fact that you had accompanied him to the awards show, finding time out of your busy schedule of recording and touring to join him, looking etheral beside him, albeit bored out of your mind as the both of you exchanged quiet murmurs of sarcastic comments and disguised smirks.

as the ceremony unfolded, you had also exchanged discreet yawns and shared amused glances behind the veil of forced smiles with valterri and tiffany, who also did not enjoy the formalities of the ceremony. you found yourself becoming very good friends with the finn and the aussie, and you had spent many a race in matching mercedes caps with tiffany, cheering on your merc boys.

even after valterri joined alfa romeo, your close bond remained, and you found yourself in the alfa romeo garage when the mercedes one became too unbearable.

muffling a deep sigh, your fingers couldn't help but fidget with the silky material of the pink Versace dress you had chosen for the night, eyes taking in the dimly lit room and all the people in it.

from the table next to you, susie shot you a sympathetic smile, and you smiled back, giggling when she rolled her eyes and pointed discreetly to the stage.

you missed the way lewis' eyes were resting on your figure, a soft smile gracing his lips as he took in the wide smile on your own lips, the way you seemed to glow like a flickering candle, glimmering softly in the chandelier light. he couldn't help but feel a warmth rise to his face as he took in the curve of your nose and your long eyelashes, glittering with the sparkly mascara you had worn, to the outline of your cheekbone melting into your round cheeks, and the curve of your lips, painted in a glittery nude that suited you to perfection.

he took in a sharp breath, feeling mildly winded as he saw the way a stray strand of hair framed your face, slipping out of the neat bun you had elected to don, to the way your skin shimmered softly from the highlighter your makeup artist had put on you.

he took in the sight of your bare arms, the matching butterfly tattoo you both had on display on your forearm. his eyes trailed down to your hands, nails done in the same shade of pink as your dress, and fingers adorned in multiple rings, many of them gifts from him.

he took in the sight of the deep pink dress you were wearing, hugging every curve of your body like a glove, eyes softening as he took in the roll of your tummy in the dress and the way your it highlighted your collarbone, letting him glimpse into the dots that formed constellations on the bare skin.

he followed the trail to the way your leg peeked out of the slit in the dress, to the heels that adorned your feet, and shook his head softly with a smile as he saw that the heel on your left foot was dangling off your toes, since clearly his earlier warning of aching feet had come true.

he smiled as he recalled the way you had raised an eyebrow at him, and pursed your lips into a pout, and told him "i can't, not wear these heels babe, i got them just for this event!"

he felt his heartbeat quicken as he thought to himself for the millionth time, how in the hell had he gotten lucky enough to be with the goddess of a woman sitting beside him.

of course mr smooth wasn't as smooth as he thought he was because soon enough you felt his eyes delicately tracing the expanse of well, you, and you had to hide a blush at the thought.

lewis was snapped out of his daze when george and his girlfriend, carmen, came over to talk to him as the proceedings took a break.

as he turned to talk to them, his hand reached for your leg, resting on your thigh, gently squeezing it reassuringly.

as he engaged in polite conversation, he missed the way that your gaze settled upon him, taking in the sight of him in all his glory.

he had opted for an all black outfit , and he looked nothing short of jaw droppingly stunning. you took in the slightly crooked curve on his nose, smiling softly as you remembered many a night of pressing soft kisses to it, to the gentle smile he wore, a contract to the rough beard he adorned, to the little gap in between his teeth that you so adored, that flashed when he grinned at people.

you took in the silky black suit he was wearing, compliments his features so well, and the Cartier pearl necklace that he loved so much. the v cut of his suit allowed the necklace to gleam, and his tattoos to perfectly compliment it.

you took in the sight of his hands, littered with tiny tattoos that held so much meaning to the rings that rested on his fingers, many of which were gifts from you, some silver some gold, fingers intertwined with your own.

you took in the sight of his hair in a bun as well, a few loose braids framing his face making him look godlike.

you could feel your heartbeat flutter as you questioned how exactly you had gotten lucky enough to be with the man who sat in front of you.

lewis' hand trailed up from your thigh to gently grasp your arm, rubbing it softly, making you smile.

it was your way of reminding each other that you loved each other so much, when there were others around, since neither of you were really keen on pda. after all, as taylor swift had once said, "romance isn't dead if you keep it just yours"

the both of you were the definition of 'private, not secret' everyone knew you were together since about the beginning of 2020, and you two showed up at each other's races and shows, galas and awards shows. but it was a rare occassion where you were blatantly affectionate in public. you were shy, and lewis respected that and kept public displays of affection to hand holding and feather soft kisses after wins.

as alex and lily joined the six of you, you moved your chair closer to tiffany's, and lewis moved his closer to yours, so the two of them could sit as well, and lewis found himself reaching for your hands again, thumb tracing your knuckles and bringing your hand up for a quick kiss to your knuckles.

you couldn't help but flush at the chuckles from the others, while reaching out to gently rest your hand on his arm, while your other hand remained interlocked with his on his lap.

it was no secret that the both of you were absolutely head over heels for each other, and everyone knew it. they saw it in the way lewis' looked at you, as if you had hung the sun stars and moon in the sky, and how you looked at him, as if he was the softest sunset and the brightest sunrise.

they could see it in the way he spoke about you on the rare occasions he did, with nothing but awe and admiration for the woman he loved.

they could see it in the way you wrote about him in your songs, how you called him a gentleman in a world of boys, or how he was as handsome as a mansion with a view.

so when the camera panned to the both of you, showing the both of you gazing at each other with lovestruck gazes, eyes sparkling softy and sugar sweet smiles gracing your lips, and when the world champion was announced and lewis' name resonated on the speakers, it only felt right to press your lips to his.

your lips met in a sugar-sweet dance, a delicate blend of tenderness and warmth. it was a kiss that tasted like stolen moments and whispered promises, leaving a lingering sweetness on your mouths—a delightful confection of affection that resonated long after your lips parted.

his hand squeezed yours softly as he got up to get his prize.

you couldn't help the proud tears that sprung to your eyes as you watched him get up and accept the trophy for his eighth title, marking his place as a race in a league of his own.

everyone stood up as he made his way to the stage, and to your surprise, everyone stood up and clapped, and ginger spice even mouthed a sweet "congratulations!" your way.

as lewis began his speech, you couldn't help but snap a picture of him earning giggles from everyone around you.

"today, I stand before you not just as an individual but as someone profoundly indebted to the unwavering support and love of an extraordinary woman. my heart is brimming with gratitude as i attempt to express the depth of appreciation for the incredible person who has stood by my side through thick and thin.

to my dearest y/n,

In the rollercoaster of life, you have been my anchor, my steady compass guiding me through stormy seas. your unwavering presence has been the bedrock of my strength, and your love, the fuel that propels me forward.

in moments of joy, your laughter has been the melody that serenades my soul, making the highs even more euphoric. and in times of despair, your comforting embrace has been the sanctuary where my troubles find solace.

together, we've weathered storms, faced challenges, and celebrated triumphs. your belief in me has been a constant source of inspiration, pushing me to reach for the stars even when the night seemed impenetrable.

you, my love, deserve the glory of this moment just as much as I do, because without you pushing me to be the best, i wouldn't be here. thank you for being my confidante, my partner in crime, and my greatest supporter.

to the woman who has turned ordinary days into extraordinary memories, thank you for being the sunshine in my darkest hours and the reason for my brightest smiles"

as he ended his speech, you could feel tears dripping down your face and watery laughs from all around you, as carmen lily and tiffany all hugged you and wiped tears away from their eyes. you couldn't help the happy sobs leaving your lips, mouthing a quiet "i love you" to lewis, who was making his way back to your table.

as he approached, you couldn't help but kiss him again, hands gently resting on his chest as you kissed him deeply.

as the ceremony wrapped up and everyone began to get ready to leave, your hands remained interlocked, even as toto and susie suggested getting dinner with all the mercedes members present at the event.

you were content. you were happy. and you were oh so in love.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : i hope this is what you were looking for!! as always likes reblogs comments opinions etc are appreciated!! ☺️

TAGS

f1 : @superlegend216 @ivegotparticulartaste @moon-enthusiast @ssararuffoni @theonly1outof-a-billion @ihateyougunthersteiner

all : @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird

TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST SEND ME AN ASK OR A DM SPECIFYING WHICH FANDOM ❤️

#lewis hamilton #lewis #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton smut #f1 fanfiction #f1 imagines #f1 #lh #lh44 #f1 x reader #f1 drivers x reader #fluff #lewis hamilton x reader fluff #lewis hamilton imagine #mercedes #mercedes amg f1 #imthebadguyyyasks #asks #formula 1

[hapinesbuterfiy]

this is probably so random but imagine rafe taking his girl to the eras tour and she dresses him up to match her outfit and he’s pretending like he would rather be anywhere else but he lowkey loves it 🥺

this is so terribly me coded (rafey pls buy me miami eras tix so i can see taygracie again i beg you) <3 this is very s!3 rafe to me, ultimate daddy energy.

. ༘⋆⭐🪩🫶 ⋆˙

your a swiftie. a hardcore one for that matter. being a swiftie, however, tends to be an expensive hobby. luckily for you, your trust fund baby of a boyfriend rafe cameron came in clutch with two floor seats to the eras. and luckily for him he's getting the full eras tour experience!

rafe, being used to your antics already, made you well aware that he was not dressing up from the second he bought you the tickets. "'m not puttin' on a stupid costume for this alright? you do that. you're not ropin' me in this time." you inevitably ignore his protests, and come to a compromise. maybe he isn't wearing a full-on costume but, he cannot look boring in the presence of the taylor swift!

it's the morning of the concert. you of course begin getting ready at 10am, you had to prepare for a busy day of instagram photos, friendship bracelet trading, and screaming your favorite songs alongside your favorite people, your boyfriend and taylor swift!

it's only fitting that you opt for a couples costume. you couldn't get him to the heartbreak prince as you originally planned for, so instead he simply wore a white t-shirt with "KARMA" printed onto it in big pink letters and his signature ray bans. you, however, are completely decked out! a taygracie cowgirl hat sits pretty on your head alongside your glittery makeup, "karma is my boyfriend" rhinestoned baby tee, sequin pink mini skirt, and cowgirl boots.

"rafey! you look so cute. you studied the setlist right? i cannot have you making a fool out of me in front of mother." you chirp, squeezing onto his bicep as you walk into the stadium. "mother? you're insane. yes the setlist is memorized didn't wanna deal with your complainin' ass when this shits' over." he pretends that he's not going to have fun, but you know he will, being that you caught him listening to all too well 10 minute version in the shower while he thought you were asleep. at least he put the work in!

he's in a typical rafe mood, brooding and boring with a firm grip on your hand, following you around like a lost puppy with an irate facial expression while you make your rounds trading bracelets. that is until, taylor finally comes on stage.

he's videoing, singing along, and smiling. who is this man and what did he do to rafe cameron? since when did he know the lyrics to tolerate it? why is he wrapping his arms around you and swaying you back in forth during lover? he's entered his swiftie era, and you could not be happier.

#💌 #♡ rosie writes ! ୨🎀୧ #fangirl!reader <3 #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron fluff #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fic #taylor swift #eras tour

[pluto-00]

Matching

geto xblack!fem!reader

established relationship, pet name;baby, reader is implied to be a girlie-girl, fluff, shopping, no cursed energy, reader is described feminine

a/n; totally self indulgent. just thinking about suguru going shopping and spoiling his s/o. also not proof-read

“Cmon, sugu! The stores about to close!! I wanna buy something before we go.” She whined slightly, tugging the long haired boy with her. His boots made big stamps into the snow-covered sidewalk as they walked through the strip market.

The area was newly built, having new clothing shops, cafes and bakeries scattered around. One store in particular, was still open. Despite most of the stores and cafes putting up a “we’re closed.” sign

“I know, i’m just a bit tired.” He said softly, giving a chuckle as he looked down at her. They had been out for hours and now it was starting to get colder.

“What are you tryna buy anyway?” He asked as his hand gripped the door knob, and opened the door for her.

“Mmm, nope! It’s a surprise, you’ll love it..probably..” She said excitedly, as she walked into the large store. Suguru looked around, as he followed behind her.

Filled with expensive dresses, the latest couture items, platte makeup and clunky hair accessories. It was very on brand for his girlfriend, who was obbessed with fashion and cutesy things.

“Don’t worry baby, we will be in and out. I just wanna get us something!” She explained to him, as she could tell he was tired. She gave him a soft smile and planted a kiss on his cheek, her glittery gloss and brown lip liner making a clear imprint on his face. As she turned to go look for what she was wanting.

“Suguru, I found it, c’mere!” She said giggling, pulling up the hot pink scarf.

“That’s cute..but why are you getting two?” He asked, as he looked at her with a slight eyebrow raise. “You don’t wanna be matching?” She frowns, lifting up the scarf. Although it was pink, glittery, and bedazzled from head to toe, It was in the perfect size for him too.

.

.

.

.

“I.. mean, i’m not against it..but, It seems kinda-” He said with a sheepish grin, a light red tint brushing his cheeks.

“You don’t have to wear this color if you don’t want to…” She ran her hands through the rack of different scarf colors.

“They have one in black! C’mon it’s so adorable!” She said trying to convince him to let them be matching for the winter. “We can match! Me having pink and you with black.” She smiled warmly trying to convince him. He gave a soft smile and then a nod. It’s like he couldn’t say no to her, especially when all she wanted was to match with him.

“EEEE! Thank you! Thank you!” *She squealed excitedly, wrapping her arms around him. “It’s going to be sooo cute! It’s worth it, promise!”

He chuckled lightly at her reaction, his lips tugging into a smile. “Alright, Alright.. Here.. lemme pay for it.”

#geto suguru #jjk #black!reader #geto x black!reader #black fem reader #pluto 00 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ #black writers #jjk geto #geto x reader #geto x black reader

[fl3shm4id3n]

Bₑᵢₙg ₐ 'bᵢₘbₒ' ₐₙd ᵢₙ ₐ ᵣₑₗₐₜᵢₒₙₛₕᵢₚ wᵢₜₕ: ₑₑₜᵤ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴇᴇᴛᴜ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: mentions of humans and that's it.

Masterlist

Who would of thought Eetu would end up being with a human. The first time he saw you, he thought you were a flower. How could he not? You were decked out in pink and somewhat blended in with the flowers. That's how he began to call you syulang, because you his flower.

For a long time, Eetu disliked humans. For the harm that they've done. Who wouldn't? He thinks that humans destroy everything they touch, but when you came into his life, he had a change in mind. Maybe not all humans are evil like the RDA. After all, you were from the resistance.

Eetu has never had a mate, so this whole relationship thing is new to him. Specially being with a human, he knows nothing about humans, but he is willing to learn about you. He loves to learn new things, specially when it comes to you.

He likes to watch you do your makeup. You had to explain to him what makeup was. He thought it was human war paint, but when you explained the difference, he understood. He loved watching you apply on your glittery eyeshadows, blush, eyeliner, and put on your fake lashes.

Half of the time, he is asking what product was what. He really likes highlighter for some reason. He asks if he could put it on you. At first he tried using your makeup brush, but it was too small for him to hold, so he just used his index to put on your face. He couldn't help but feel his tail wag every time he does.

Another thing that he likes, if how your lipstick stains on his skin when you kiss him. On the lips, cheek, or forehead. He loves it. Sometimes he asks if he could get a kiss on his forehead. He'll be walking around with your kiss stain in his forehead, right between his face paint. It might be small, but he loves it. He's careful in trying not to smudge it. But in general, Eetu loves your hugs and kisses. He is very affectionate lover and so are you. Both you and him can't keep your hands away from one another. Literally.

When it comes to your outfits, he likes to see what you're planning to wear. You give him a little fashion show and ask if you should wear whatever outfit you had planed on wearing. He'll give you his honest opinion, he'll also compliment you on your outfits. Whether is a dress or your pink track suit, but what he'd really love to see you wear, is his clan's attire.

Since he knows that you have a love for pink, he tried to find you or make you stuff using pink materials. If doesn't mind, he loves to make stuff for you. He made you a songcord, normally na'vi have them, but he thought that you should have one. Its made out of various pink colors, from the string and beads.

Along with giving you pink or similar colored flowers. He loves seen how your cute little face lights up the sight of him bring you flowers. It makes him happy hearing you do that cute little squeal of excitement.

To his surprise, Zomey likes you. At first it worried Eetu that she'd try to eat you or hurt you, but turns out, she likes you. A lot. That made him very happy, his two girls getting along. He's seen how you treat her, he finds it cute when you tie little bows on her antennas or on her headpiece.

He loves to take you on flights, specially when you've been copped up in the lab all day and are in need of fresh air. If you're scared, don't worry, he's holding you the whole time and Zomey is also cautious.

When you and him are in the forest, he likes to help you get around. He know that you're able to get around, since you've been around the forest for many years. But he still likes to lend out a helping hand. He doesn't help holding your hand or even picking you up. Sometimes he gets you to hop on his back, while he climbs high places.

He loves to take pictures with you, he's not familiar with human technology so might teach him how the camera works. His favorite part is when he gets to keep the pictures of the two of you. Your smile being his joy.

Another human thing that he learned, was about music. He grew interested, learning about the many kinds of music the humans made. He'll listen to whatever music you're into, whether is pop, punk, metal, rap. He'll listen to it no problem. He'll even try to learn the lyrics to your favorite song, so that he could sing with you.

Since Eetu had learn things about humans, you also decided to learn more about his clan. It made his heart warm up, seen you learning the Aranahe Clan. He's becomes your teacher in a way, he loves teaching you everything that you wish to learn.

#eetu x reader #eetu x you #eetu x y/n #eetu x fem reader #eetu x female reader #eetu x human reader #eetu headcanons #eetu imagine #female reader #female y/n #feminine reader #feminine y/n #bimbo reader #bimbo y/n #cereza's writing #cereza's headcanons #cₑᵣₑzₐ'ₛ wᵣᵢₜᵢₙg #cₑᵣₑzₐ'ₛ ₕₑₐdcₐₙₒₙₛ #𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔷𝔞'𝔰 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 #𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔷𝔞'𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰

[fyod]

self indulgent, leave me alone. he dresses in lolita!!! aryu does too!!! written in hc form, excuse any errors. rbs are appreciated.

sub chigiri hyoma + dom nonbinary reader. (no prns used)

content: dollification kink. heavy feminization. crossdressing. anal penetration. that’s it, i think lol.

the dollification of chigiri hyoma. he already had the beautiful aspect as a doll with beautiful features, beautiful hair, beautiful skin and a beautiful body. everything about him was beautiful. however, he was so fucking stubborn. he had a hard time following directions, didnt like to be told what to do and couldn’t shut up. it took a lot of time, patience and effort to break him in. but when you finally did?

doll chigiri that genuinely enjoys wearing whatever you buy him. you just make him feel so handsome, so pretty when you dress him up, take him out and/or have a photoshoot with him. bonus points if you dress up as his counterpart.

doll chigiri who sits quiet and still when your dolling him up. he’s staring at himself in the vanity, hoping you don’t notice the corner of his lips flick up. chigiri’s excited, he can’t help it.

doll chigiri that was taught to speak only when spoken to. and when he does speak, he speaks with clear sentences and an evenly delicate voice. on special occasions, you take over the reins, talking for him. it’s really nothing to him, sitting there all cutely and dolled up while you order his favorite meal at a cafe.

doll chigiri who’s being manhandled on whatever surface there is to get played with because you can’t handle how delectable he looks with lace ruffled thigh highs.

doll chigiri that can’t help but flinch when he feels you intruding, lubed up and stretching him opened. you fill him up in a matter of seconds, until chigiri swears he could feel you in his stomach. the stutter of his breath doesn’t go unnoticed.

doll chigiri who orgasms keeping his noises stifled in his chest.

doll chigiri that tries his damnest to keep all of his expressions at bay but, sometimes he can’t — not when the heat in his lower belly fester the more you touch him there, and there and there. he has to work on keeping his expressions he knows.

doll chigiri who’s heart rate picks up when you start praising him. “the prettiest doll crafted” “made from porcelain” “my good boy” “the one and only princess” while you use his body which ever way you’d like.

doll chigiri who’s always clad in white, ruffled panties. his skin is the brightest pink when when you flip up his underskirt to see a darkening splotch on the front. you can’t help but coo at your doll, pleased. fuck now he’s even more flustered.

doll chigiri with the prettiest moans and prettiest whimpers on earth whenever you give him the permission to. oh and when he cries? like an angel singing a lullaby. cheeks rosy and swollen

doll chigiri who’s spoiled completely rotten. he usually get whatever he wanted. you let him get away with a lot, lashes clumpy with mascara, glittery eyeshadow, peachy lips. all he had to do was tilt his head.

doll chigiri that looks forward to being ruined by you, his maker. makeup ruined, outfit ruined, hair ruined. because when you ruin him, you put him right back together again.

doll chigiri who bites back his cries when you ignore his stiffening cock in favor of worshipping every other inch of his body. he needs it s’bad but he keeps it to himself, knowing how upset you’ll be if he broke character.

doll chigiri who’s favorite pastime is you cleaning him up. bathing/showering him, washing his hair and following it’s routine, lotioning him up, dressing him for bedtime — surrounding him in all kinds of sweet scents.

doll chigiri who won’t ever admit how fucking good it feels to get into his role, to stop thinking, that makes him feel so fucking warm and fuzzy.

#this was getting so long omsgsj #chigiri hyoma smut #chigiri smut #sub bllk #sub blue lock #blue lock smut #bllk smut #chigiri hyoma x reader #chigiri x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #dom reader #dom!reader #sub character #chigiri hyoma.

[hopefuloverfury]

What the Bachelor/ettes Would Dress Up as for Halloween

Here’s a short one for today. Happy Halloween, everyone!

No cut because it's relatively short. Mentions of fake blood. Enjoy <3

Sam

Used a werewolf costume but is supposed to be the Big Bad Wolf

Probably cut up one of his flannels for the costume

Jodi is very upset about that, it was a nice flannel!

Has a full wolf mask that opens when he talks

Vincent screamed bloody murder when Sam came out of his bedroom

Apparently Sam was unaware that Vincent has a phobia of werewolves

The More You Know™

He felt a little bit bad about that, but thankfully was able to calm down his little brother eventually

Seb

A wizard Rasmodius is amused

Probably was going to wear it for a cosplay to comic-con years ago but ended up not being able to go

He’s got a full gray beard, with long billowing robes and everything

Probably has a scepter that he made himself out of paper mache and clay

Definitely wears a wizard hat, too

But the robes are so long that he almost lands on his face multiple times throughout the night

Eventually he resorts to holding up the ends of his robes like a princess

Abigail and Sam cannot stop laughing

Alex

Dressed up as Ken

Didn’t want to bleach his hair blonde, but the spirit is there!

Probably has a pink neck tie and a pink button up polo

Takes his role very seriously

Probably learned the choreo for “I’m Just Ken”

Also got Dusty a glittery pink collar for the occasion

Calls literally every woman in town “Barbie” for the whole night

George is weird about it, but Evelyn is having a blast lmao

Elliott

Dressed up as Mark Twain

He carries around a fake raven skull for the bit

Waxes poetic about death and mortality

Probably quotes a few of Twain’s books but only the very obscure bits that only another “Twain connoisseur” would recognize

Leah tries to comfort him as best she can when no one recognizes him

Even though no one recognizes her either

Shane

A mummy

Wrapped himself in toilet paper and called it a day lmfao

Jas makes a stink about not matching with him though

She has a gorgeous fairy dress and was going to wear her bunny-jewel slippers

Marnie was going to put glitter in her hair and everything

But nope

Uncle Shane was going as a mummy, and so she wanted to be a mummy

It’s the cutest thing in the world

Shane is cheesing the whole night, and the rest of the town is terribly endeared by the two of them

Marnie doesn’t even mind the money spent on Jas’ original costume

They look too happy to be upset about it, anyway

Harvey

Dressed up as a homicidal/mad doctor

He’s not terribly creative, and he’s already got all of the costume pieces anyway

Everyone asks him why he didn’t dress up

He is very perturbed by that

Of course he dressed up! Don’t you see the fake blood on his coat?

What about the wild hair and the dark circles??

No? Seriously?

Maru

A robot!

Goes all-the-fuck-out

Has fully functioning extra limbs, probably a voice manipulator as well

Spent months on her physical costume, and Penny helped her with the make-up on the day of

Bought colored contacts that make her eyes look mechanical

Probably also built a candy dispenser into the suit so when Jas and Vincent run around getting candy from all of the villagers, she just presses a button on her wrist band and her stomach opens up to reveal a bowl of candy

The kids love her

Penny

She dressed up as Red Riding Hood, but with a twist!

She’s also a wolf!

Her and Sam are doing a duo costume

So she’s got the little dress and the hood, but the edges are tattered and she’s got insane costume makeup on

No wolf mask for her, unfortunately, but the effort she put into every other aspect of it makes up for it

Is horrified to find that Vincent is terrified of her

She probably feels bad about it for a few weeks after that and vows never to touch a wolf costume ever again

Abigail

Abigail dressed up as a skeleton

Got a few black clothes and drew an anatomically correct skeleton on them with bleach and paintbrushes

It’s wildly impressive

The sweatshirt she used will 100% be worn again, even when it isn’t Halloween

Got a face paint palette and made her face look like an actual skull

Probably pinned her hair back under a black wig cap or something to keep it cohesive

When she shows up for the festival, no one actually knows it’s her because she’s covered head-to-toe

Also has full-eye contacts that make her scleras black

Confuses the hell out of the skeletons Marlon has in those old cages, also confuses Marlon for like half a second before he realizes that it’s a costume

Haley

Barbie. Obviously.

Her and Alex are also doing a duo costume!

Has her hair in a high ponytail 

Everything is glittery, sparkly, and pink, pink, pink

Did her nails even pinker and sparklier

Probably has a little purse with a stuffed chihuahua in it

Abandons that idea when she sees Dusty, though

He looks so handsome with his pink collar, you know?

She posts pictures of their costumes on her socials after the night is over

Leah

Dressed up as Leonardo Da Vinci

Everyone thinks she’s just some old French Noble or something

Which breaks her heart

And not just because Leonardo was Italian

Oh, except for Haley!

Haley knows who she is right off the bat, and compliments her costume very genuinely

Leah feels a little better after that, until she has to run away and comfort Elliott

“I’ve got a raven skull and everything!” / “I know, I know.”

Someone save her lmfao

Emily

Made her whole costume from scratch

She’s a strawberry fairy!

She makes a gorgeous pink tulle dress with embroidered strawberries and fairy wings sewn to the back of it

And she made a headband with some poseable wiring and green cloth to look like strawberry leaves

Her shoes are some chunky pink mary jane “flats”

Also probably made strawberry charms to clip onto the straps

Has a basket full of strawberry candies that she passes out to everyone

Haley helped her do her makeup, and she’s got painted freckles on her cheeks to look like seeds

Altogether she’s the cutest fucking thing anyone has ever seen

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv headcanons #stardew headcanons #halloween #emily #leah #haley #abigail #penny #maru #harvey #shane #elliott #alex #sebby #sammy #happy halloween #not a request this time! #I just wanted to do something themed for the holiday #enjoy #lmk what you think they'd wear #only if you want of course

[violet-1atte]

Kinktober Day Twenty-Four: Crossdressing - Jisung/Chan

Tags: Feminization, petnames like princess, baby girl, good girl, mentions of alcohol, fingering, anal, top!Chan, bottom!Jisung

AO3 Link

Fewer things in this world were more beautiful than Han Jisung. Specifically, Han Jisung when he got all pretty for Chan–when he put pretty hair clips in his hair, smeared pink shimmer across his eyelids, touched up his lashes with mascara, and emphasized his plump lips with a red, sticky lip gloss. When he would put on his favorite pink corset top and a pleated mini-skirt that barely covered his ass, stocking clad thighs leading to feet slipped into Barbie-pink pumps that made him at least three inches taller than Chan. Sometimes he even put on a wig.

Chan wanted to make that makeup run. He wanted to smear his lipstick across his face and watch his mascara flow down his face. Jisung always looked so pretty like that, tiny waist, soft thighs squeezed by thigh-highs, his gorgeous makeup all messy. He would whine and say Chan was messing up his hard work, but he loved it all the same. 

When Jisung got home after a lunch out with Felix, a million and one scenarios of how Chan wanted to ravish him ran through his mind. He was wearing that outfit that he loved so much, the one that made him look especially girly and emphasized his tiny waist and curvy hips. His hair had been growing out lately and he’d gotten it curled so it fell in pretty waves around his face. Chan watched him like a hawk as he hung up his purse and bent over to take off his heels. Chan’s mouth went dry when his skirt rode up, revealing the underside of Jisung’s ass. While his whole outfit was pink, the panties he was wearing wear baby-blue. A color that looked gorgeous on Jisung’s tan skin. 

He swallowed thickly as Jisung straightened up and headed over to Chan with a bright smile on his face, socked feet padding against the floor. Chan opened his arms for him and he collapsed against him with an “oof!”

“How was your time out?” Chan asked, running a hand through Jisung’s hair. He only then noticed that he had gotten a few glittery extensions. Cute. 

“It was really good. Definitely ate too much food and Felix ordered a bunch of sweet drinks so I may have gotten a bit tipsy, but Changbin drove us back so we wouldn’t have to call a cab but I’m sober now,” he said, all in one breath. Chan chuckled and tucked his hair behind his ears. 

“Yeah? I’m glad you had a good time,” he said softly. 

Jisung hummed and nuzzled against Chan’s neck. Chan shivered and his hands went to hold Jisung’s dainty waist. “Mhmm, me too,” he mumbled against his skin. Chan shifted, trying to keep his arousal at bay. “I missed you though.” 

“I missed you too,” Chan agreed. In more ways than one , he didn’t say. 

Jisung pressed a soft kiss to his neck then and his breath caught in his throat. “I miss you a lot . And I saw how you were looking at me when I walked in, hyung. I’m not blind,” he said, pressing his soft lips to Chan’s skin again. Chan could feel the lipstick stain that was left behind and he took a deep breath. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “You’re just so…fuck you look so pretty in this outfit.” 

Jisung giggled softly. “It’s okay, hyung. You can say that you wanna fuck me. I know you like it when I dress up like a girl,” he said teasingly. Chan felt his blood rush south. 

“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, Sung,” Chan said lowly. He squeezed Jisung’s waist as a warning but Jisung only smiled. 

“Oh I know exactly what I’m getting myself into. I wouldn’t have said anything otherwise,” he said sweetly. He sucked on the skin beneath Chan’s jaw and Chan inhaled deeply. 

“You promise you’re sober?” 

“Mhmm. Just a pleasant buzz. I want this. Was thinking about you as I was getting dressed this morning. May or may not have fingered myself in the shower this morning too.” 

Chan tongued his cheek and clenched his jaw. “Fuck. Okay. Let’s go to the bedroom then,” he said. Jisung giggled happily and wrapped himself around Chan so that he could pick him up. Chan wrapped his hands underneath Jisung’s thighs and carried him to their bedroom with practiced ease. He tossed Jisung onto the bed but was still gentle enough to make sure he didn’t get hurt. 

When Jisung reached down to begin taking off his skirt, Chan shook his head vehemently and reached out to still Jisung’s hands. “No. Keep it on. I’m gonna fuck you in this outfit, yeah? Wanna see how pretty my princess looks in his outfit while I fuck him.” Jisung nodded and chewed on his bottom lip to bite back a whimper. 

“Yes sir,” he responded softly, letting his hands fall limp at his side. 

“That’s a good girl.” The whine Jisung let out was music to his ears.

Chan quickly went to grab the lube and a condom and then crawled between Jisung’s spread thighs. He ran his hands up from his knees to the edge of the stockings and pinched the soft flesh that spilled over the edge of them. Jisung gasped and bent his knees slightly as he spread his legs further. There was a small tent in his skirt where the fabric rested over his dick and the sight made Chan’s cock pulse. “So fucking pretty, princess. Wonder how many people were staring at you when you went out.”

Jisung shuffled on the bed as Chan continued playing with his thighs, his grip bruising even as he pushed his hands under his skirt to grab his inner thighs. “I-I don’t know,” he said shakily. “Was only thinking of you.” 

“Even when you were with your friends?” Chan asked. He flipped up Jisung’s skirt and his breath hitched at the sight of Jisung’s hard cock trapped inside his blue, lace panties. 

Jisung shivered as the cool hair hit his cock and he whimpered. “Ye-yeah,” he stuttered. “I–the reason I got off in the shower was so I wouldn’t be thinking about you the whole time I was out. So I wouldn’t imagine you reacting like this to my outfit. But it didn’t help, it wasn't enough. Wanted your cock.” 

Chan practically growled in response, a groan getting trapped in his throat. “Shit, you’re so fucking sexy, Jisungie. How did I get so lucky?” he asked as he moved his hands to hold Jisung’s hips. He brushed his thumb over the tip of Jisung’s cock where it was leaking into his panties and Jisung moaned. 

“ Hyunggg ,” he whined and then he huffed. “I want you, please.” 

“You’ll have me,” Chan said. “What, I can’t take my time with you?” 

“You can but not now ,” Jisung insisted. “I dressed up so nice and you don’t want to take me apart right now?” 

Chan chuckled softly and leaned over Jisung so that he could kiss him softly. But Jisung immediately wrapped his arms around Chan so that he could kiss him deeper and he parted his lips to run his tongue over his lips. Chan smiled against his mouth and huffed but allowed Jisung to have the kiss he wanted. It quickly turned passionate and messy because Chan could never get enough of his Jisung and his mouth tasted sweet, like lipgloss and sugary alcohol and dessert, and so entirely Jisung that he never wanted to stop kissing him. 

Jisung was quick to grow impatient though and after a minute he pulled away with a gasp. “That was enough time. Now fuck me, please .”

Chan grinned as he looked down at Jisung. He already looked disheveled, his wavy hair fanning out across the pillow and his lipgloss smeared across his lips. Just like he loved. “Whatever my princess wishes,” he said. Jisung’s eyes lit up with excitement and he smiled as Chan sat back on his heels. 

“I don’t need much prep, ‘m still loose,” Jisung said. A faint blush spread across his cheeks and Chan’s heart skipped a beat. He was so beautiful it was unfair. 

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he decided. “Lift your legs for me, baby.” 

Jisung held his thighs up and bent his knees toward his chest so that Chan could get a good view between his legs. He hooked his finger in the panties and pulled them to the side, revealing Jisung’s pink, fluttering hole. It was still a little swollen from fucking himself earlier in the day and there was a bit of wetness left from the lube. Chan bit his lip. 

He opened the bottle of lube just to be safe and coated his fingers with his. Jisung never took his eyes off him, his eyelids heavy and pupils blown. Chan pushed a single finger in at first to test the waters and when he was met with no resistance, he pushed a second finger in alongside the first. Jisung’s eyes fluttered, his eyelashes fanning across his cheeks. “Fuck, you really are loose. How many fingers did you use?” 

“Th-three, for the most part,” Jisung managed, swallowing audibly after. “But I added a fourth at the end.” 

“Shit,” Chan mumbled. He spread his fingers and Jisung’s body arched as he mewled. 

“Hyung!” he exclaimed. “Please, more. I can take another, please don’t make me wait. I’m your good girl, right?” he asked, doe eyes pleading as they held Chan’s gaze. He clenched his jaw and his cock twitched in his pants. He loved when Jisung got like this, falling into the role of Chan’s baby girl as easily as he pulled on a skirt. It made waves of arousal shoot through his stomach. 

“Yeah, you are,” he said. He pulled both fingers out just to thrust three in at once. He pushed them deep and searched around before he found the little bundle of nerves in Jisung’s hole. He grinned and rubbed over it with the tips of his fingers just to watch Jisung writhe under his touch. 

“Oh fuck– hyung please,” Jisung whimpered. Chan’s fingers continued moving but he took a moment to look up at Jisung. Holy shit, he already looked so fucked out. His cheeks were fiery red and there was hardly any color left in his eyes from how big his pupils had gotten. 

“Yeah? Please what?” Chan asked, tilting his head. He curled his fingers and Jisung’s back arched. He rolled his hips down to push Chan’s fingers deeper and when he hit his prostate again he keened. The ties on his corset top stretched across his chest as he took deep, heavy breaths to calm himself, but it didn’t seem to be working as Chan continued to spread his fingers and abuse his prostate with every thrust. 

“Ah-ahh–st-stop, I’m gonna come,” Jisung said. “Wanna come on your cock, I’m ready.” 

Chan hummed and stroked his free hand up Jisung’s thigh. “Alright, I’ll give you what you want,” he said softly. He bent down and kissed the sliver of skin that was showing between Jisung’s corset and skirt and removed his fingers as he did so. It was tempting to tease Jisung more, really make him beg and cry, but Chan was a weak man. Jisung really didn’t have to do much to get him to cave, especially looking as pretty and pliant as he did. The pink of his clothes matched the flush spread across his skin. He looked edible.

Chan made quick work of tugging his pants off and his cock bobbed up, achingly hard. Jisung didn’t even need to touch him to get him like this. Just seeing him walk in the door before was enough to make him hard so now he was throbbing . 

He reached for the condom, but Jisung whined. “Nooo, I wanna feel you.” 

“Are you sure? It’ll make a mess,” Chan said, but Jisung nodded. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. Don’t care if I get my clothes messy. I just want your cum inside me.” 

Chan groaned and cursed under his breath. “You’re unreal. Fuck. So perfect, princess.” He tossed the condom aside and got back between Jisung’s thighs. He tossed his legs over his shoulder and pulled his panties aside again to line himself up. “I’ll fill you up good, yeah? You don’t have to worry.” 

Chan began to push his cock past the rim and Jisung tossed his head back, muscles rippling under his tanned skin. “ Ahh , yes, yes, yesss ,” he moaned at the feeling of Chan’s cock filling him up. He clenched around him and Chan clenched his teeth, inhaling sharply. 

“You gotta relax, I’m gonna come too fast if you keep doing that,” he warned and Jisung took a couple deep breaths. Chan soothed his hand over the side of his thigh and brushed his thumb over the seam of his stockings. “Yeah, that’s it, that’s my good girl.” 

Jisung whimpered, going lax against the sheets. “Hyung, please,” he whined, fingers flexing against the sheets. Arousal heated Chan’s stomach. He could never get over hearing how Jisung said hyung. He didn’t consider himself to have a hyung kink, but something about Jisung saying it, his usually caramelly-deep voice multiple pitches higher than normal, dressed in all pink, that made Chan dizzy with want. 

He pushed all the way to the base, his hips flush against Jisung’s ass. He gave himself and Jisung a second to adjust before he started moving, but Jisung was quick to insist, “ Move.” So Chan pulled all the way out until just the tip of his cock was pressed against his rim, and then he slammed back in, the slap of their skin together resounding across the room. 

Jisung moaned wantonly, ah, ah, ahs spilling from his lips as Chan picked up a steady rhythm, fucking into him with abandon. His skirt was flipped up over his stomach because of his position and his stockings began rolling down his thighs as they slid along Chan’s shoulders. Chan felt his whole body quiver around him as he pushed his knees further back towards his chest and angled his hips to hit his prostate head on. “So fucking pretty, so pretty like this,” he gritted through his teeth. 

“Th-thank yo-ou,” Jisung hiccuped. His hole clenched around Chan’s cock as he pounded into him and he moaned pathetically. Pleasure pooled in Chan’s stomach at the feeling of Jisung spasming around him and he took a deep breath to calm himself. He needed to make Jisung come first. 

“That’s it princess, you’re doing so good,” Chan praised when Jisung let out a strangled moan. His eyes were unfocused and his mouth was opened, producing a pretty litany of moans. A light sheen of sweat covered his skin and it shimmered under the light which emphasized the tensing of his muscles. 

“Hhhh, f-fu-uck, hhhyung ,” Jisung moaned, twisting against the bed. “ Harder .” 

“Harder? Want me to–mm fuck–want me to split you in half, princess?” Chan asked breathlessly. He snapped his hips harder and Jisung cried out, eyes rolling back. 

“Yes, yes, yes, ohhh fuck.” Jisung bit his lip and his chest heaved. “‘M gonna–I’m gonna– ahh, ah! Hyung, there, yes! ” 

Sweat dripped down Chan’s face as he fucked into Jisung and he could feel his own orgasm approaching. Jisung was like a vice around him, clenching so tight he could barely think. “Yeah, that’s it,” he said, squeezing Jisung’s thighs. “C’mon, come for me, let me see how pretty you look when you come.” 

Jisung whined and his back raised off the bed. “Sh-shit,” he hiccuped. “I’m c-coming, hyung.” His cock, which by now was poking out of his blue panties, twitched and spurted cum all over the underside of his skirt. He moaned long and loud and Chan clenched his jaw at how tight his hole squeezed around him. He looked fucking gorgeous as he came. The pleasure was written all over his angelic face and the sight alone was enough to bring Chan to the edge. 

His whole body buzzed as he gave a few final thrusts and finally came inside Jisung, making a mess of his hole. Jisung moaned as he was filled and the sound was the only thing Chan’s brain registered for the next few moments. 

When his orgasm finally finished, he let Jisung’s legs slip from his shoulders and he exhaled. He fell forward, collapsing on top of Jisung and he grunted. “Hyung, you’re heavy,” he complained weakly. His voice was so soft Chan could barely register it. 

“It’s all those muscles,” he mumbled against Jisung’s chest. Jisung rolled his eyes. 

“Whatever,” he said playfully. He wiggled a little under him. Chan hummed softly and wrapped his arms around his slim waist. 

“Let’s lay here, I’m tired,” he mumbled. 

“No, my skirt needs to be washed!” Chan closed his eyes and pretended to snore. “Hyung! I can feel your cum dripping out of my ass.” 

“Okay, okay,” Chan responded, groaning. “You know, you aren’t being a very good girl right now.” He poked Jisung’s cheek and laughed at the way his face lit up red. 

“Shut the fuck up, oh my gosh.” 

Chan cackled as he stood up. “Alright, fine. Come here, let me carry you to the bathroom like the princess you are.” 

Jisung pouted but held his arms around for Chan anyway. “Mhm, that’s right,” he said with a nod as Chan wrapped his arms around him. He smiled softly to himself and pressed a chaste kiss to Jisung’s lips as he held him. Wow, he loved this boy.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober day 24 #crossdressing #smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #jisung smut #chan smut #bang chan smut #han jisung smut #chansung #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #skz fic #fanfiction #skz fanfiction #skz fanfic #feminization kink #pet names #top!chan #bottom!jisung #dom!chan #sub!jisung

[scarydeadlavender]

꧁༺ 𝓘 𝓪𝓶 𝓪 𝓑𝓪𝓻𝓫𝓲𝓮 𝓖𝓲𝓻𝓵 ༻꧂

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Daniel: Oh no, I refuse!

The boy rapidly waved his hands in front of him as a sign of protest, looking at his friends with a sadistic smile holding a pastel pink dress with cute strawberry motifs on it.

Daniel: No, no, no, and again, no!

Ivy: Come on! We didn't slog through revising just to get a good grade on the potion assessment for nothing!

Daniel: I-

Tp cleared her throat and took out a parchment from her crossbody bag.

Tp: I quote, "Daniel Page, on this day, April 4th at 2:00 PM, declared: if you manage to score higher than me in the next quiz, I'll do whatever you want for a day!" Right here, here's the signature!

Tp turned the paper towards Daniel to show him the image proof. He grumbled.

Daniel: I should have revised more... But as for you all! He gave them a cold look.

Daniel: My revenge will be terrible...

Tp: Yeah, yeah, now give it a shot! Tp placed the dress in Daniel's arms and then did a high five with Ivy, who shivered while letting out a small joyous laugh!

Ivy: I forgot something! Without delay, she went off to search for that 'thing' and returned with a pair of white strappy ballerina sandals with a small heel, paired with matching pink socks. She slipped them under the curtain of the dressing room.

Daniel: No way!

Ivy: A deal's a deal, Daniel!

The boy groaned.

Daniel: I'm not stepping out.

Tp: Come on, don't be a spoilsport!

Daniel: Never, I'm staying in here until nightfall-

Ivy: Daniel Page, get out of here!

A sort of growl was heard, and a somewhat magnificent Daniel emerged, wearing a cute pastel pink dress with strawberry motifs, puffy tulle sleeves, a boat neckline, a bow tied around the waist, and Ivy's choice of shoes made it all even cuter. Daniel's fists were clenched, and his gaze was fixed on the ground, his cheeks as pink as a child caught red-handed stealing candy. Snap! Tp had taken a picture with a magical Polaroid that brought the images to life.

Tp and Ivy couldn't hold back their laughter.

Daniel: H-Hey, stop it!

Tp: Ivy, do you think what I'm thinking?

Ivy: Oh, absolutely!

Daniel watched his two friends, displaying a sadistic smile. He backed away in fear when he felt the cabin wall behind him. He knew it would be over then... He swallowed hard before being pulled by his two friends towards a seat in front of a white marble table with a grand golden mirror, several makeup tools laid out – colored nail polishes, mascara, eyeshadow palettes, lipsticks... too many things that gave him a headache.

Tp: So, what are we doing with you, Daniela?

Tp placed her hand on her chin, pondered for a moment, and then smiled. She grabbed a palette of colors and whispered her idea to Ivy.

As for Daniel, he sank into the chair, hoping to disappear from the world. But when he saw a brush with pink powder on it, he flinched.

Tp: Don't worry, everything will be fine!

Daniel: Do you think I'll believe you with that smile?!

Tp: Close your eyes, or I'll put this in your eye!

He wasn't quite sure what was happening, but he obeyed Tp. He just felt a brush on his eyelids, and when he could open his eyes again, he saw Ivy with pink glittery nail polish. He quickly pulled his hand away.

Daniel: Don't even think about it!

Ivy rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand, applying the polish much to his chagrin. ... This went on for 15 minutes, and when he finally saw how they had transformed him, he blushed with embarrassment. His hair was styled in a bun, with strands escaping, pink eyeshadow, pink glittery lip gloss, pink nail polish... he looked at himself in the mirror and saw the bespectacled boy staring. He wore a red checkered shirt with a black t-shirt underneath.

Daniel: Is it normal for that guy to stare at me like that?

Tp and Ivy looked behind him and noticed the boy quickly looking away. Tp leaned towards Daniel with a sly smile.

Tp: Looks like Daniela has admirers.

Tp stifled his laughter while giving him a friendly pat on the arm. Ivy signaled to the mysterious boy, who came over to them.

Daniel: Wh-what are you doing?!

Ivy: A romantic rendezvous.

Daniel: WHAT?!

He tried to escape, but Ivy held him back. The more the guy approached, the more Daniel panicked. This guy arrived in front of them, flashing a smile that could compete with Ken's.

Guy: Hey, ladies, what's up?

Tp: Oh, um, yeah, shopping day!

Guy: I can see that...

His gaze didn't leave Daniel, much to his despair. So, he tried to avoid his gaze, noticing that Tp was gently pushing him toward the guy.

Tp: Excuse her, she's shy. This is Daniela!

Daniel's entire body jolted at that name... she could have been more creative...

Guy: Oh, nice to meet you, doll. The guy draped an arm around Daniel's neck, causing him to shiver from the cold sensation that ran down his back. Daniel forced a smile, sending a glare that could kill to his two friends, who were barely holding back their laughter.

Ivy: Oh, I've got an idea! What if you two went for a walk? We'll meet at 5:00 PM to retrieve Daniela!

Daniel glanced at Tp with pleading eyes. She just shrugged.

Tp: Yeah, why not! Come on, Daniela, it'll be fun!

She gave him a look that said "I'm going to get you for this!"

Guy: Perfect, then! Let's go!

The two headed for the exit, and Daniel hoped against hope that he wouldn't see anyone he knew. He gave his friends a final helpless look and walked away, leaving only a glittery lip gloss mark on Tp's cheek as a farewell...

Oh, how he missed his potion books! This boy named "Maxime" was not interesting at all! And he clearly didn't have all his marbles!

There was just one hour left—just one hour with Maxime in a cafe. Daniel's head rested in his hand as he sighed, knowing he couldn't stay a minute longer. He couldn't take it anymore! All his energy to tolerate Maxime had vanished. So, he came up with a little lie that could save him from the situation.

Daniel: Um... I need to use the restroom.

Ignoring whatever Maxime was saying, he got up and headed towards the restroom, hoping Maxime would look away so he could escape.

Hiding behind a few people, he waited for the perfect moment to make a dash for the door. For some unknown reason, he felt like he was seeing a divine light in front of it.

And when that moment finally arrived, he sprinted as if his life depended on it! Even though he was walking rather quickly, he could feel Maxime following him like a lost puppy. How did Maxime notice? He didn't know, maybe that pink dress made him less inconspicuous among the people dressed in darker colors.

So, when he finally got that opportune moment, he ran like there was no tomorrow! Even though he was walking rather quickly to avoid suspicion, he could feel Maxime trailing behind him like a lost pup. How he noticed, he didn't know. Maybe that pink dress made him stand out among the people dressed in darker tones. The two of them left the café, heading towards the clothing store.

Maxime: Daniela?

Daniel: I'm leaving.

Maxime stopped.

Maxime: Your voice sounds weird...

.

.

.

Daniel sighed before massaging his temples. He turned to Maxime.

Daniel: Listen, Maxime! I'm not Daniela, I'm Daniel, yes, Daniel! I am not a girl!

He raised his collar slightly to show that he didn't have a chest, causing Maxime to blink repeatedly, not understanding the situation.

Maxime: Wait... can you switch genders? Like, are you an alien?

Daniel looked at him, shocked by his stupidity, and slapped his palm to his forehead. He just wanted to get away.

Daniel: Yeah, sure, if you want...

He was too tired, continuing on his way. But then he felt Maxime grabbing his hands, and he shivered at the contact.

Maxime: Wow, Daniela—or Daniel—you're amazing! Please, take me to your planet!

Daniel: Ugh!

Too clingy, too persistent, in his opinion. He shook off Maxime's grip.

Daniel: Stop it!

Maxime: But I love you!!

Daniel: Well... I don't! I already have feelings for someone else!

He thought that would finally make Maxime go away, but no... Instead, Maxime grabbed Daniel's shoulders and kissed him. Shocked, he violently pushed Maxime away, wiping his lips and leaving traces of gloss on his hand. Disgusted, his stomach churned a bit. He hadn't consented to that, which made him even angrier. His blood was boiling, but... if he wanted to get out of this situation, he had to play along.

Maxime: Daniela...

Daniel: It's Daniel... Listen, Maxime, can't you see that our love is impossible? You just broke a rule from my planet! Oh, Maxime, forgive me, but farewell!

He struck a dramatic pose, pretending to cry, and then he started running towards the path back to Hogwarts.

.

.

.

On the seemingly endless path, he hoped not to bump into anyone, as he'd die of embarrassment and might never want to go back to Hogwarts. He looked around frequently, checking if anyone was following him.

?: Hey, beautiful!

He jumped, freezing in place. His hair stood on end as he turned his head towards the sound of the voice, hoping it wasn't Maxime.

But to his great surprise, it was Tp who blinded him with a camera flash. He rubbed his eyes, where small black spots blinked.

Daniel: Tp! You nearly gave me a heart attack!

Tp laughed, then handed Daniel a brown paper bag. Daniel looked at it suspiciously but took it anyway.

Daniel: What is it?

Tp: Relax, Daniela. They're just your clothes. You left them at the store.

Daniel: And whose fault is that?

Daniel shot a cold look at Tp, who laughed, turned, and leaned against a tree to give his friend some privacy to change.

Without further ado, he removed the dress and FINALLY got back into his clothes. He looked at his fingers, where the nail polish sparkled. He sighed, walked over to Tp, and tossed the dress at her. Tp was surprised but ran over to join him, heading towards Hogwarts. Tp seemed a bit sad.

Tp: Aww, Daniela is gone...

Daniel: Oh, shut up...

Rolling his eyes, he tried to remove the makeup while Tp laughed, seeing the colorful mess on Daniel's face.

Daniel: What?

Tp: Nothing, come here!

Daniel was too tired to argue, so he approached Tp, who took a small tissue from his pocket and began wiping his face. Daniel groaned a bit, withdrawing like a scared cat, his face turning red.

Daniel: I swear, next time we make a bet, I'm setting rules.

Tp: Alright, alright, Barbie girl.

Tp held back his laughter, seeing Daniel's adorable panicked expression at the nickname.

Daniel: W-what did you call me?

Tp: Barbie girl—

Daniel: Oh, you!

Tp couldn't help but laugh as Daniel clenched his fists, his cheeks as red as his hair.

Tp: Come on, Barbie, let's go party!

Daniel: Stop that...

Tp: I am a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world, life in plastic, it's fantastic, you can brush my hair—

Daniel: Shut up...

Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose, watching his friend enjoy singing the famous song. And for some reason, he leaned in and planted a kiss on Tp's cheek. That stopped Tp from singing as they blushed, hiding their face in their hands. As for Daniel, he headed towards the castle without a word, leaving just a trace of glittery gloss on Tp's cheek as a goodbye...

...

The next day arrived quickly, and it was no surprise to see Daniel Page with pink nail polish still on his nails. He received curious glances from other students and good-natured teasing from his friends

Frey Twins: hey, Barbie girl?

Daniel: Oh, shut up!

Deep down, he knew that the only person who could call him that was Tp...

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Word number : 2303

L'idée vous est venue après avoir regardé le film Barbie ; c'est vraiment bon, je le recommande !

#daniel page #hpma x reader #harry potter magic awakened #daniel page x reader #hpma mc #hpma daniel #fanfiction #barbie movie

[sinkingteethinwhitenoise]

Limoncello - Chapter 12

Pairings: Nick Folio x OFC, Bad Omens x OFC

Warnings: Talk of injuries, tears, fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

Series Masterlist

A/N: Hello! Thank you so much for reading Limoncello! This is the last chapter and it means so much to me that you've stuck through this whole thing! If you enjoyed this story, keep an eye out for an announcement coming soon.

“I want to find your smile in the epilogue.” - Ghost Atlas, Tomato Red

For two weeks after the attack, Nick and Maeve were inseparable. Thankfully, Maeve was able to get someone out to fix her window the day after it had been shattered. Nick stayed by her side the entire day as it was repaired. She didn’t speak much that day, exhausted and shocked from the events the night before. Throughout the day, they occasionally talked to the window repair team as needed. When they weren’t doing that, Nick was watching Maeve as she tried to figure out the most efficient way to cover the large bruise spanning across her neck. She tried for hours to cover it with makeup, Nick around for support and encouragement. She ended up crying in Nick’s arms when she couldn’t cover it fully with makeup. Nick held her as she sobbed into his chest, rubbing her back and kissing her head. When she stopped crying, she was able to find a white linen scarf buried deep in her closet that she ended up wearing around her neck for a week until the bruise faded. 

They slept at Maeve’s house that night. No funny business. They just talked about anything that would distract her from the soreness of the knot on her head and the bruise on her neck; anything to distract from thinking about the previous day’s events. They spent every night together, switching between her house and his house with the guys depending on when the band had practice. When they did have practice, Maeve sat in the garage, perched pretty on a stool with earplugs in, watching and listening, with her delicate linen scarf tied loosely around her neck. 

By the second week, the bruise on her neck had faded into nothing and the knot on her head was no longer. It was a celebratory occasion in Maeve’s eyes when she didn’t have to put the scarf on. She walked out of the bathroom after getting ready for the day to see Nick sitting on the bed, on his phone, waiting patiently for her. “Hey,” she said softly, holding back a smile. 

“Hey,” he chirped, looking up from his phone. “No scarf today?” he asked, an eyebrow raised as he smiled at her. 

She allowed herself to smile. “No scarf!” She beamed. She strode over to him and plopped down onto his lap. “The bruise is, like, gone.” 

He instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist and his small smile turned into his signature, goofy grin. “I think that calls for a celebration, don’t you?”

“You read my mind,” she giggled. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. She laughed a bit when she pulled back and noticed the shiny, slightly glittery, pink tint from her lip gloss had transferred onto his lips.

“Let me take you to breakfast,” Nick murmured, pecking her lips again. 

And that’s what they did. They had a date every day that week, even on the days when the band had practice. He made the time. By the end of that second week, he’d fallen even more for Maeve than he thought possible. He was happy. He wanted to hold onto that happiness for as long as possible.

“I’m gonna ask her if we can make it official,” Nick said to Noah as he watched Maeve tend to her flower beds through the kitchen window. 

Noah chuckled, “You aren’t already?”

Nick glanced over at Noah and shrugged. “I mean, no? Not technically,” he sighed. “I just- I want to be with her. She makes me really happy. I hope I do that for her too.” 

Noah clapped Nick on the back. “Folio, if you’re worried she’s gonna say no, I don't think you have anything to worry about.” 

“I hope you’re right,” Nick stared out the window once more. 

“I know I’m right,” Noah said, following Nick’s gaze. “How are you gonna ask her?”

Nick shrugged once more. “I’m not sure,” he hummed. “I just know it has to be special, though. She deserves that.” 

“If you need help coming up with something, I’ll call a band meeting,” Noah suggested. “We’d be happy to help. I mean, we’ve been routing for you two since you two shook hands when she came over to introduce herself.” 

Nick furrowed his eyebrows and glanced over at him, “Really?”

“Yup,” Noah nodded. “Love at first sight if I’ve ever seen it.”

Nick suppressed a smile as he looked back out the window. “Right, okay.” 

“Dude you’ve literally got heart eyes watching her pull fuckin’ weeds,” Noah laughed and rolled his eyes. “Want me to call that meeting?”

“Yeah,” Nick murmured. “Please do.” 

A plan was in place after a quick band meeting. Nick wanted to carry it out as soon as he possibly could. He couldn’t wait. Immediately after the meeting he got ready and left to go run some errands, while the guys kept an eye on Maeve. It took Nick until the late afternoon to get back with everything he needed. Nicholas walked outside after hearing his truck pull in. 

“Need help with anything?” He asked, walking over to Nick as he stepped out of the truck. 

“Yeah, just grab some bags and help me take them to the backyard,” Nick said. “Where is everyone?”

“Jolly and Noah are learning how to make limoncello across the street,” Nicholas chuckled.

“Perfect,” He breathed. 

They unloaded the truck pretty quickly and got to work decorating the backyard. When they got done it looked like something straight out of a disney movie. There were soft, glowy fairy lights on every surface they could put them on. There were flower petals scattered all over the patio floor. A beautiful bouquet of sunflowers and greenery wrapped in brown paper sat on the patio table.

“Yo, what’s this?” Nicholas questioned, picking up a small, dark green, velvet jewelry box. “You’re not fuckin’ proposing already, are you?”

Nick turned to him with wide eyes. “Oh, no way dude,” he said quickly. “It’s a necklace.”

Nicholas let out a sigh of relief as he opened it. It was a thin gold chain with a dainty letter ‘F’ hanging from it. “F for Folio?” he asked, glancing up again. 

“F for Folio,” Nick repeated in confirmation. “I’ve heard that some girls dig wearing their guy’s initials. Let’s hope I got that right.” He let out a shaky sigh. 

Nicholas set the box down next to the bouquet where it had previously been. “Hey man,” he clapped his shoulder. “You’ve got this.”

“Thanks,” he sighed. 

Jolly and Noah were helping Maeve clean up the kitchen when Jolly’s phone pinged. He dried his hands to check it and then cleared his throat. “Maeve,” he said looking up from his phone. “Folio’s home if you wanna go see him.”

She set down the cutting board that she had been washing and quickly dried her hands. “Let’s go, then. These can wait,” she motioned to the dishes in the sink. She quickly made her way to the front door, Noah and Jolly close behind. When they were all outside, she locked the door and they all went across the street. Maeve was the first one inside. She hadn’t seen Nick all day, and to say she was excited to see him was an understatement. 

“Hey,” Nicholas greeted from the couch upon seeing her. “Folio’s in the backyard.” 

“Thanks!” She chirped before walking to the back door. 

She opened the back door and stepped outside. Her eyes widened and her jaw went slack when she processed the scene around her. Her eyes finally landed on Nick, holding the bouquet of sunflowers. “What’s all this?” she asked, her voice quiet and awe stricken. 

He walked up to her and handed her the flowers. “These are for you.” 

She took them from him and smiled. “They’re beautiful,” she whispered. “But really, what’s all this for?”

He reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Her breath hitched as she stared at him. “Ask away.”

He took a deep breath, looking into her eyes. “Can I be your boyfriend?”

Maeve’s smile grew to the point where her cheeks started to hurt and her eyes crinkled. “Um, absolutely,” she giggled, it was nearly a squeal. She threw her arms around his neck, still holding the flowers, and pressed her lips to his. 

Nick couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. In fact, he kept breaking the kiss because he couldn’t stop smiling. The kiss was slow, sweet, joyful, and so loving. 

“I have one more thing for you,” Nick grinned when they finally pulled away from each other. He reached into his back pocket, pulled out the green box, and flipped it open to show her. 

Maeve felt her eyes well up with tears. “Nick, that’s beautiful,” she whispered. She looked up at him, “F for Folio?”

He nodded, that huge goofy grin adorning his face. “Yeah, doll. Do you like it?”

“I love it,” she sniffled. “Will you put it on me?”

He chuckled, “Of course, baby.” He lifted the necklace out of the box and set the box to the side. He walked behind her and moved her hair to the side so that he could put the necklace on her. Once he fastened the clasp, he stepped back in front of her. “Wow,” he whispered. “That sits perfectly.” 

Maeve set the flowers down and wrapped her arms around Nick, hugging him tightly. “This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” she sniffled into his chest. “Thank you.” 

Nick hugged her tightly, as if she would disappear if he didn’t keep hold of her. “You’re worth it,” he murmured into her hair. And he meant it. She was so fucking worth it. 

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #nick folio fanfiction #nick folio fanfic #bad omens fan fic #bad omens fan fiction #nick folio fan fic #nick folio fan fiction #nick folio x ofc #bad omens x ofc #sinkingteethinwhitenoise #limoncello series

[xxcookiecrumbsxx]

Valentine’s Day Wenclair drabble!! Wednesday proves how much better of a Valentine she is than Ajax.

Wednesday was surprised when Enid came back from her date with Ajax seemingly disappointed. She cleared her throat as Enid got ready for bed.

“Did Ajax do something special for your Valentine’s date?”

Enid sighed. “No. He said he forgot it was Valentine’s day. We just had dinner. It was fine, I guess.”

Wednesday frowned a touch more than usual. “Did he at least appreciate the glittery monstrosity you spent all afternoon preparing?”

“No. He said he didn’t want the glitter to get in his food so he hid it underneath his plate, but then he left it there. He didn’t even open it.”

Enid seemed to almost perk up at how Wednesday’s fist clenched in response. “You still can’t hurt him,” she added.

Wednesday sighed. “If you insist. I must at least tell you that even with my limited knowledge of adolescent relationships he seems to be a less than desirable paramour.”

“Yeah. He has his flaws.”

Wednesday stopped the typing she had continued during their conversation thus far. She turned to look at Enid, who turned her head to glance back.

“You deserve better, Enid.”

Enid looked away to hide the tears in her eyes. “Yeah. Maybe I do.”

one year later

Enid came back to the dorm to find her girlfriend of 11 months putting the finishing touches on a fancy dinner, set up on a table in the middle of the room. She gasped quietly, causing Wednesday to turn.

“You’re late. I had hoped to give you time to get dressed, but I had no choice but to plate the food.”

“Sorry, Yoko and I were talking. What’s all this?”

Wednesday stepped closer to her, her heels clicking as she approached. “It’s Valentine’s Day. Did you forget?”

Enid opened and closed her mouth twice before responding. “No, I didn’t forget. I just didn’t know we had plans.”

Wednesday pushed a strand of hair behind Enid’s ear. “I wanted it to be a surprise, but I thought you might suspect. It is a holiday, after all. Your favorite one, no less. Besides Christmas.”

“You’re just too good at outdoing all of my expectations.” She leaned forward to kiss Wednesday’s cheek. “What should I wear?”

Wednesday’s eyes moved to a garment bag hanging from Enid’s closet door. Enid grinned wide. “You got me a dress? Babe,” she dragged out the term of endearment. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Wednesday started back towards the table. “You deserve it. What’s the point of a family with money if I can’t spend my extensive allowance on you?”

Enid melted. “Wednesday.”

“Go put it on, the food will only stay warm for so long.”

Enid obliged, taking the garment bag with her int the bathroom. She gasped when she saw it, a dark pink and silky dress with colorful embroidered flowers covering the sleeves and top. She tried not to rush too much through her makeup but was soon making her way back to the table. Wednesday couldn’t take her eyes off of her.

“You look ravishing, mi amor.”

Enid blushed. “Thank you. It’s an absolutely gorgeous dress.”

“I thought you might like it. It’s having the desired effect on me, at least.”

Enid giggled. “Good. And you made dinner?”

Wednesday nodded, lifting the metal cover to reveal a chicken dish.

“I have Thing’s assurance that I haven’t used any unusual ingredients.”

Enid laughed. “Great. It looks delicious.”

After dinner and light conversation, Enid snuck to her side of the room while Wednesday cleared the dishes. When she returned Enid presented her with an envelope.

Wednesday took it with a quirked brow. At Enid’s grin she ripped it open to find a card. An elaborately drawn and intricately colored grayscale bee was inside, along with, in Enid’s careful hand, “Will you bee my Valentine?”

“It’s not as fancy as your stuff, but I hope you still like it.”

Wednesday looked up. “Nonsense. I love it. It’s perfect. And yes, I will be your Valentine if only you will be mine.” She took Enid’s hand to press a kiss to the top of it.

Enid blushed. “I will be your Valentine.”

Wednesday gave a rare grin. “Excellent. I have one more thing for you.”

“You’ve already done so much—“

“Nonsense. It’s nothing fancy.” Wednesday pushed towards Enid a polaroid camera that looked suspiciously familiar.

“Isn’t this mine?”

Wednesday gave a curt nod. “Yes. I am allowing you to take a picture of us together for you to put in the case of your phone. I request you take two.”

Enid’s smile covered her whole face. “You’ll let me take a selfie of us? When we’re all dressed up?”

Wednesday nodded again. “I can’t promise a smile, but if you’d like I will kiss your cheek, so you won’t see the lack thereof.”

“Okay!”

Enid quickly set up the shot, smiling wide while Wednesday pressed a kiss to her cheek. She pressed the button twice. When they came out she handed one to Wednesday, looking closely at her own copy. If you looked close enough you could still see the smallest of smiles on Wednesday’s face.

-

A few days later Enid stopped in her tracks when she opened the dorm room door. There was something new hanging on the wall above where Wednesday was typing at her desk.

“What’s that?”

Before Wednesday could reply Enid approached, finding her Valentine’s card and the photo pressed in a frame. She went quiet for a moment.

“It’s from Valentine’s day. Once we’ve been together for a few years perhaps I’ll get a scrapbook. But for now the wall will do.”

“You…you framed it?”

Wednesday turned to face her, looking slightly confused. “Of course I did. It’s special to me. You made it. I want to see it as often as possible.”

Enid didn’t reply, just leaning down to hold Wednesday’s face and press a slow kiss to her lips.

“You are an excellent Valentine,” she whispered.

Wednesday grinned, her eyes still closed from the kiss. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

#wenclair

[sketchy-rosewitch]

Discovering Eden

Description: Two stories about Eden’s first kisses and discovering her identity.

A/N: Accidentally stayed up all night last night to write the first part. Just finished writing the second.

Warnings: Ignorant thinking, Transphobia, misgendering Eden (cause she’s not out of the closet).

OC Info page

Eden always had a hard time as a child. Growing up if Bo wasn’t around she’d be teased by some of the town’s younger boys for “wearing girl colors”, and these boys would also soon find out she always volunteered to wear dresses and makeup for her mother. They’d tease her for that too. This always lead to Bo threatening to beat these kids up, Bo would threaten to beat up anyone for his siblings, younger, older, didn’t matter. Now the town girls, well, they liked Eden for this, they used her as a doll, always telling her their brothers never let them do stuff like this.

Even though they saw her as a boy, she couldn’t get over how special they made her feel. Glittery makeup stolen from their mothers and beautiful baby blue or pastel pink dresses for Eden to wear. Mother’s would coo at Eden and thank Trudy for raising such a nice young man, while grandma’s sneered at how disgusting it was having a boy dress like that.

Now, not every family treated Eden this way. There was a family that lived near the pet store, a grandma, dad, and son. Eden and Lester hardly got to see their blood grandparents so they when they visited they called the grandma, Meemaw. Meemaw let Eden dress pretty all the time and her son never complained about Eden to her parents or lectured her saying “Boys don’t dress like that!” He even gave her judgmental glances, Eden and Lester called him Mr. Hirsch, they liked him more than their own parents, but not as much as they liked Bo. Last in the family was Mr. Hirsch’s son, Ezra.

Eden only ever called him Ezra, not Ez or Ezzie or any other nickname. He didn’t like nicknames, he liked his name, and his name was Ezra Theodore Hirsch, he always shouted it or corrected people, he was proud of it, as if he came up with it himself. So, that’s what Eden and Lester called him. Well, they only called him Ezra Theodore Hirsch when they greeted him, then when they’d play he’d go by Ezra, then when they’d say goodbye they’d call him Ezra Theodore Hirsch again.

Eden liked Ezra. He was strange, yet he somehow managed to make everyone in town like him. If any kid didn’t like him it was only gossiped about and it wasn’t like Ezra cared. Ezra, he always had better things to do than worry about people.

That’s why right now Ezra was yelling at random people from his roof while he was waiting for Eden and Lester to come over for a sleepover.

“GOD IM GONNA NEED A BARF BAG JUST LOOKIN’ AT YOU GEORGE!”

“SHUT THE HELL UP YOUR LUCKY I DONT BEAT YOUR ASS!”

“YEAH WHY NOT CHICKEN HEAD?”

“EZRA THEODORE HIRSCH GET BACK IN THE HOUSE!”

Ezra looks down to see his dad with his hands on his hips, looking up at him. He purses his lips and crawls back up towards his window, falling into his room. Minutes later two sets of feet are heard thudding up the stairs. Ezra smiles just as Eden and Lester burst through the room.

“Hello, Ezra Theodore Hirsch!” They say in unison. The twins take their backpacks off and set them by his closet.

“So, what do we wanna do? Meemaw said dinner is at six, so that’s like an hour and a half, then we can play more and we’ll have not one, but TWO movies to watch! Indiana Jones Raider of the lost Ark and Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom! My dad rented both of them!”

“Wow, your dad’s the best.” Lester says, Ezra nods.

“Let’s go down to the creek. I got things I gotta show you.”

The kids go down to the creek and Ezra shows them a small shelter he set up.

“I tried to make everything clean as I could in here. I know you don’t like bugs and dirt Eden.” Ezra puts his fists on him hips proudly and smiles.

“Thank you.” Eden blushes a little. She didn’t know if she had a crush on Ezra or if Ezra had a crush on her. But hun doing these small things to accommodate her made her feel happy to be around him.

“So we’re gonna play now, Eden gets to be the princess cause he likes girly stuff. Lester, you and me get to be cool pirates who dig up treasure for the princess. Cause you and I like to get dirty.” Ezra explains. Lester nods and solutes making Eden and Ezra laugh. “I made a chair so you don’t gotta sit on the ground.” Ezra gestures to a log close to the shelter, it has a small blanket which only had leaves and twigs on it which the kid quickly wiped off.

Eden sat on the log and watched as the boys dug around. She always liked watching and observing. Very few times she got in on any action.

-

By the time it was a quarter to five the boys had dug up only a few bone fragments from what looked like a squirrel, Lester was quick to go down to the water and wash them then bring them back up to Eden, then she’d set them next to her.

“We should go back before Meemaw comes yelling for us.” Eden says looking at her watch. Ezra and Lester agree and make their way back up to the house.

“Did you guys have fun?” Meemaw asks as soon as she hears the storm door creak open.

“Yes!” A three of the kids say before making their way to the bathrooms to wash their hands. Eden makes her way to the kitchen sink and washes them there before helping Meemaw set the table.

“Such a sweetheart, always.” The old woman compliments, ruffling the girl’s short hair. Eden smiles and sits down. The boys come running in after, then Mr. Hirsch.

Everyone says a prayer and begins eating the spaghetti Meemaw made.

Ezra made disgusting slurping noises causing the twins to laugh while Mr. Hirsch sighed, glaring but smiling at his kid.

Once they finish Mr. Hirsch begins setting up the living room with sleeping bags and pillows. The kids run upstairs and get changed into pajamas. “Guess no more playing?” Lester asks.

“No, didn’t think about the fact that two movies is like forever, so we can just play tomorrow.” Ezra sighs sadly.

-

The second movie ends and Lester is passed out next to Eden. Eden sits in the middle of the two boys with her hands folded on her lap. Ezra goes to rewind the tale and ejects it putting it back into its case.

The two stare at each other, Eden blushing lightly. It can’t be seen though as the tv turns off. All that is seen is the silhouettes of the two kids.

“Do you think you’re a boy or a girl?” Ezra suddenly asks, Eden sucks in her breath and looks down.

“I’m a boy. Everyone says so.” Eden declares. Though she doesn’t sound sure.

“Well, you dress like a girl, wear all those dresses and pinks, your hairs growing out, you like hanging out with girls a lot. Oh you really like makeup too. Makeup is icky though.” Ezra retorts. One thing about Ezra was he hated being wrong. For some reason he knew he wasn’t wrong here. “You’re a girl.”

“I- Ezra. I just like that stuff cause it makes me happy, not cause I’m a girl. I was born in a boy body it makes me a boy.” Eden huffs and Ezra is quick to answer.

“I just don’t think that you’re a boy. I think you’re a girl. You’re okay with everything that girls do even if people say something about it and stuff. Meemaw thinks you were just born in the wrong body. I think she’s right, and I never think wrong.”

There’s a moment of silence before Eden sniffles a bit. “If I’m a girl you can’t tell anyone about it. Cause even though Bo usually handles it I don’t wanna cause more trouble than I already have okay?”

“Okay… well if you’re a girl, which you are. We should kiss.”

Ezra’s mouth always opened before he could even think about what he was going to say. But he never regretted anything he said, even if it embarrassed him.

“What?”

“We should kiss. And just like I won’t tell anyone that you are actually a girl, we won’t tell anyone we kissed. It’ll be a secret. But only if you wanna.”

Both of the kids shuffle and kneel and sit on their calves.

They both lean in and Eden pecks Ezra quickly before pulling back and hiding her face. Ezra bites back the shit eating grin he has before taking and hugging Eden.

“Was that okay?” Eden asked, Ezra nodded and laughed.

“Yeah, you’re cute Eden.”

“Shut up.”

-

Eden’s second kiss was her first kiss from a girl. This was 3 years after her first kiss.

Eden sits in the back seat of a pickup truck heading back into Ambrose, her friend Sidney Wallace sits beside her. She’s a year older than Eden but Eden managed to get into the same English class as a bunch of Sophomores. In the front sits Sidney’s sister a cheerleader named Tabitha and her boyfriend, a band kid named Nick. They were both seniors.

It was a Friday night and they were heading back from a football game, the windows down as country music played softly on the radio. Eden would sleepover at Sidney’s, though she wouldn’t tell her, she had a crush on Sidney.

The small down comes into view, lights from the street shine down like small ufos. Nick turns into the Wallace residence and everyone gets out.

Sidney is quick to grab Eden’s hand and take her into her bedroom, shutting the door and turning on her stereo, it plays softly in the background as Sidney rummages through her closet for pajamas.

“Wasn’t that fun?” Sidney asks taking out shorts and a button up pajama shirt for Eden to wear. Eden shrugs and begins taking her clothes off.

Being in large crowds wasn’t her style, but at least she got to see her team win instead of hearing their amount of losses as gossip between students.

“Yeah, I guess. Just didn’t think people got so crazy. Which is silly because I see how they act when my dad watches football.” Eden laughs a little and buttons up her shirt, Sidney lets out a snort and slips a dress on.

“Yeah happens every week. But if you wanna go to one again we don’t have to be in the student section. That’s usually where they act up. Some weeks I go sit with my parents.” Sidney admits, she slips under the blankets and holds them up for Eden to get in too. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary but Eden still got flustered when Sidney would ask.

“Wouldn’t mind, as long as I get to hang out with you.” Eden admits, Sidney giggles and touches Eden’s arm lightly making Eden want to curl up from being so flustered.

“You’re so cute Eedee.”

Eden looks at Sidney, her heart swells up and stomach bursts in butterflies. Sidney looks up at Eden and runs her finger down her straight blonde hair to her chin.

Not knowing what to say Eden speaks the first works that are in her head. “You’re cute too Sidney.” Eden attempts to look away but Sidney’s thin finger moves her face back towards the black haired girl.

“I wanna kiss you.” Sidney whispers softly, Eden’s breath catches in her throat, she can’t speak, instead she nods.

Sidney leans up and kisses Eden softly, her lips are smooth with cherry chapstick. It smells lovely. Sidney pulls away for a second and looks into Eden’s blue eyes, Eden stares into her brown ones.

“Was that okay?” Sidney asks, Eden nods and goes in for another kiss.

#sprout writes #eden sinclair #slasher oc #house of wax oc #house of wax 2005 #house of wax #bo sinclair #lester sinclair

[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! 

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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. 

#jungkook x reader #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts fluff #bts angst

[mysticalrambling]

Love Conquers All (The Originals)

Epilogue

(Y/N) means your name and (Y/LN) means your last name.

Warnings: none. Angst and fluff all the way.

Summary: Dad!Klaus. (Y/N) finds out that you are pregnant and runs away from Klaus. After five years of avoiding him, Freya discovers your secret and it will all be revealed in time. At last, love will conquer all.

._._._._.

“Hope, you need to be really good.” There was a very good chance that your hyper active daughter will get distracted in the end. But if this plan works then it would be one of the best day of your lives.

Your first daughter was an accident (no regrets there) but after you married the love of your life, you wanted to expand your family. Both of you have been trying from the past year but were met with disappointment at the end of every month. This was going to be so much different from your first pregnancy because your partner will be by your side this time.

“Love, where are you?” Calling out from the hallway, you could hear Klaus’s footsteps coming towards you.

“Hope, I am going to distract your dad. Just remember your part please and finish your drawing quickly.” Intercepting your husband midway, you started talking to him about Hope’s upcoming play in her school and both of your participation at the ticket booth. Klaus protested because he found all the other parents annoying. The great Klaus Mikaelson had a reputation to uphold. But you just giggled quietly because you remembered him in a pink tiara acting as a princess with Hope just last night.

When you thought that enough time had passed by, you gently ushered Klaus in the room. “Surprise!” Your voice died down in your throat when you saw the startled face of your little munchkin smeared in yellow frosting.

“What is this? ‘E are pect?” The writing on the mini cupcakes was destroyed by the little devil perched on the coffee table.

“Hope! I told you I would give you the cupcakes afterwards,”

“Mommy, Mr Fluffs ate the icing. I told him not to.” She hid her hands behind her back and gave you her puppy dog eyes.

“What’s going on?” Klaus interjected before you became distracted by the argument.

“I will deal with you later but now show Daddy your card.” She slowly hopped off the table and extended her card that now had yellow imprints on it. Klaus always savored moments like these because he had missed a huge part of her life. And soon his little girl will transform in to a moody teenager who is too cool for her old man.

He recognised the three stick figures that were hastily drawn on the pink paper but there was another small one on the side of the paper.

“Who is the fourth one, baby?” He bent down to her level and tried to decipher the glittery mess.

“Read the card, daddy!” She pointed her chubby, little finger towards the end of the paper. As his eyes skimmed over the scribbled handwriting, a gasp escaped his soft lips. Written were the words, “I am going to be a big sister”.

“Is this-? You are-?” The Klaus Mikaelson was reduced to a sputtering mess and when he saw tears in your eyes, he immediately lifted you off the ground, “We are going to be parents again.” Klaus’s happiness knew no bounds and you both were just basking in each others presence.

Munching sounds from somewhere behind you took you out of your bubble. “Hope Andrea Mikaelson, stop eating the cupcakes!”

“It’s okay, (Y/N). Let her enjoy this moment as well.”

“She will get a sugar rush and I am not dealing with it.” Your pregnancy hormones were going haywire and you already knew that this baby will be a lot different from your elder daughter.

“Okay, darling. No more sweets for the whole week.” Picking his daughter up, he took her to get cleaned up and easily slipped in to his dad mode. This baby was going to be a new chapter in your lives and you were excited for it.

--------1 and a half year later--------

“Hope, stop trying to put glitter on your brother.” Klaus was running after his two munchkins but Hope had a mind of her own. She put a freezing spell on James and dumped the pink glitter on him. Little Jamie was terrified the instant he couldn’t move his chubby little feet. The nine month old let out a piercing wail and blasted her sister across the couch.

“What is happening here?” You came in the moment you heard your children crying on the top of their lungs. They both had been a handful from the very start and their powers are uncontrollable now. Sure, Freya is helping them rein their powers but it was not helping.

Klaus was rocking Hope gently in his arms while nursing the cut on her forehead. Immediately, you went to your sobbing infant and picked him up. The glitter transferred to your clothes as he clinged on to you like a Koala. “Hope, why would you do this?” You asked flustered.

“He destroyed my painting for Daddy.” Exclaiming it with tears flowing through her eyes, she laid her head on her father’s shoulder.

“Mistake.” Jamie hiccuped and you gently rubbed his back. Slowly, Hope’s cut healed and your husband let out a sigh of relief. He can not bear to see anything to happen to his family. One time, he went ballistic on Freya when James got stung by a wasp. She just shut him up with a sleeping spell and boy, was Klaus mad.

“Honey, give me Jamie. I’ll shower him while you both go change.” Klaus took charge of the situation because he knew that they were all going to be late for the fourth of July dinner at Kol’s house. He would rather send some alone time with his family but you insist on socialising.

“I have left out his red and blue onesie on the bed.” You called out after your two boys and a soft giggle was sent your way.

You all got ready with Hope wearing a blue white striped summer dress with her pink pumps and you in a maroon dress with intricate lacing. Klaus had opted for a simple white button down with khaki pants. And the casual look just made him more appealing.

The kids went in to the living room to play with their toys, the feud between them long forgotten. Klaus took you in his arms as you were giving a final touch to your makeup. He gazed at you through the mirror while you gently laid your head on his shoulder.

“I am so lucky to have you. You are my saving grace and thank you for the two little munchkins.”Klaus was truly thankful to have you in his life and the thousand years of misery has finally paid off.

“I am just as grateful for you, trust me.”

“I love you, baby and this all is going to stay the same.” Gently, he turned you around and pecked your lips.

“I love you too and is that a promise, Mr Mikaelson?”

“Always and Forever. Now, let’s get going.” You both went out and strapped the kids in to the car for the long 30 minutes ride.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

._._._._.

A/N : This series has officially come to an end. Really enjoyed writing this. When I first came up with the plot I really didn’t wasn't sure if I wanted to complete it. Thank you to each one of you for giving your love and support to this series. Hope you like this. Let me know what you think.

P.S. If you want to send blurb requests based on the series (dad!Klaus) I'm more than eager to write so send me your ideas. I would love it❤️

Like, comment and reblog.

._._._._.

#rachelleblodgettwrites #my writing #creative writing #writing community #tumblr writing #wattpad #short series #series #tv shows #tv series #netflix #the vampire diaries #the originals #legacies #klaus mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus x female reader #klaus x y/n #klaus x you #klaus x hope #klaus x elijah #rebekah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #hope mikaelson #freya mikaelson #james mikaelson #kol mikaelson #davina claire

[peachbearies]

Pussy Fairy. E.Jaeger

𑁍┊synopsis: something about y/n with pink glittery eyeshadow made him go feral, now all he wants to do all day is lay in between her thighs.

𑁍┊Genre(s): Smut

𑁍┊Pairing: aged up(21)!Eren X F! Reader

𑁍┊Warning(s): Face Sitting, Overstimulation, praise kink, fingering, body worship, hair pulling, squirting, minimal spanking, dom! eren modern au eren.

𑁍┊Proofread: Yes / No. (to my best abilities)

Eren asked y/n to hang out with his friends, just an infrequent hangout he reckoned, he didn’t think something so modest would make him so fragile in his knees. Y/n was sitting at her vanity feeling empirical she grabbed her favorite eyeshadow palette along with her pressed glitter, getting an inspo from a fairy core post on her timeline she concluded to imitate this look. A delicate pink glittery eyeshadow look paired with soft peachy blush from cheek to cheek, soft orange highlight on her nose, and cheekbones. Eren was trying to contain himself when she got in his car smelling like sunflowers and clementines, so simple but effective.

Eren was at an expense for utterances. Y/n chuckles before pecking his lips “what happened love?” eren positions his hands firmly around her inner thigh “you” is his straightforward alibi “me? Did I do something wrong? Is my outfit not okay?” y/n started to become subconscious, but that's not what eren denoted, quite the contrary actually “no, you look intangible darling you eternally do, just this reliance of you trying new things has my heart scampering like when we first kissed” saying no more he puts the car in drive to meet Armin and the rest of his friends at an arcade.

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Once they made it to the arcade, Armin told them to just walk in they've paid for their cards with fully loaded chips on them, eren holding her hand tightly kissed her knuckles as they walk to find his friends. Y/n was only close to two of his friends and those are the ones he mainly hangs with. Armin and Mikasa. In the beginning, she thought Mikasa hated the idea of her hanging with eren, but come to the realization she was just overprotective of his wellbeing. Sliding in the booth eren throw his arm around her snuggling her close to him.

Whenever they would hang out with a group of his friends he knew how anxious she would get and always kept a hand on her to remind her he's there and that nothing will hurt her. “You guys came later! Was eren taking too long to get dressed?” jean poked fun at him.

Their relationship was always fun to watch. It was either they cursed and quite literally fought each other, or they were giving tough advice and playing like competitive brothers. Eren scrunched his eyebrows giving jean a cut-throat stare to which jean chuckled “quite the opposite” y/n answered “I was doing my makeup” Jean looked back at her giving off a genuine smile “it looks good, you look like a fairy” smiling y/n informs him that's the look she was going for eren removed his arm from her shoulder to go get a drink.

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The emotion in his head was making him dizzy he felt jealous, lust, love everything all at once like a booster shot. His mind was shortly interrupted by a hug around his waist, the aroma clouded his mind yet again. “Hey darling” he expressed, using his two fingers to remove the hair from her lipgloss. “Hi! Baby” she smiled eren was caressing her face so delicately as if she was a glass vase. She was perfect in his eyes compared to the shit he's done in the past, she's innocent like a bunny.

But she's changed him for the better, grabbing her hand he twirls her around seeing her skirt follow in sync with her body the combat boots she wore with the lace socks popping out the blue glitter-laced tank top she was stunning today. Eren dipped his head into her neck leaving soft wet kisses onto her now burning skin, her fingers petting through his long chocolate locks. “I love you” eren repeats on his skin “I love you too” his emerald eyes sparkling under the led lights of the arcade. Eren forgot about the beverage he ordered until it was sat right in front of him.

“What did you get?” she asked, eren sips his drink trying to remember what he ordered under impulses “I think I ordered a jolly rancher drink, with vodka” she looked up at him as he tried a few more sips to conjure his memory. “Yeah, that's what it is” she tried to grab the straw to taste but eren just kissed her lips over and over.

“That's all you get to taste I'm not letting you drink” eren smirks when he sees her pout face, with his free hand he grabs hers telling her to lead them to the game she wants to play. Seeing a ghostbusters game she drags him in the booth. He loved the excitement on her face it meant he was doing an amazing job has a boyfriend and a friend to her, and that's all he ever wanted. “Baby, this is my favorite game, I used to play this all-time mainly by myself cause my old friends didn't like this game” Eren's blood started to boil at the mention of her old friends.

They were toxic, but y/n wanted to see the good in people even though it was hurting her deep inside. Eren couldn't sit and watch them destroy the person he loved, even though they were friends at the time. “Your old friends were walking disappointments, dare to look down upon someone else when they're no better” cupping his cheeks in one hand, she kissed him softly before softly tugging his lips between her teeth. Though he knew she meant it innocently to calm him down, it made him wanna swerve on the highway to get home.

“Calm down babe, I know you hate hearing about them, but trust me I'm happy with y'all” her smile gave eren goosebumps, every time he saw that smile he thought to himself ‘is it humanly possible to fall deeper in love? Even though you're wrapped around their finger?” eren kissed her forehead in response. “Cmon get ready for us to win” his competitive voice commended.

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After winning the ghostbusters game, here they were at a claw machine where eren was determined to getting y/n a plushie. “You know you don't have to right?” she reminded him but everyone knew, with eren video games and arcades meant competition in his mind. Even when he was courting y/n it was a competition in being a better person for her, changing his old ways. To stop drinking so much, missing out on college parties even though she told him he could. He loved her and wanted to be the best boyfriend he could. Watching as the claw landed on top of the smiling corgi with a strawberry hat on she gasped when it was dropped into the box.

“I remember you wanting this from last time we came here” smiling she stands on her toes to kiss him softly. “Thank you, baby” after all the fun was done y/n was sitting on Eren's lap in the booth while they ate nachos. Jean looked over Eren's shoulder to see an old friend of theirs also known as y/n’s ex. But eren was too busy talking about his college class with Armin. But y/n had a keen eye so she followed his and landed on the source, she knew better than to let eren find out so she turned back which caused eren to caress her thigh over his large hand. “Something the matter love?” he asks her “no baby, I just saw a motorcycle game that looked cool, but I'm getting tired now” she started picking the piece of cotton from his shirt out of his hair.

“Yeah me too, let's go home y'all” jean suggests, they all begin walking out of the arcade bidding goodbyes to everyone just what she was avoiding her ex parked right next to Eren's car. She looked up at him but his eyes were burning holes in his chest and her ex wasn't backing down either. “Hello, eren and y/n, you look beautiful y/n why didn't you dress like that when we were together?” he questioned, eren gave him a sharp knife gaze to which her ex chuckled.

“Take it easy, I can't compliment her? Is that a crime?” he jokes eren smugly leaned against his car and across his chest “no, but to watch you suffer I'd gladly catch a case” his devilish smirk cascaded across his face. Her ex started to tremble at the expression on her boyfriend's face y/n grabbed his hand “can we go home?” she asked politely “yeah, let's go home dear” the aggression in his voice sent rivers in between her legs and shivers down her spine. Opening the door for y/n she got in after letting out a soft sigh, ‘how long was I holding my breath?’ she thought to herself.

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Eren cranked up the car placing his hand on her inner thigh, but close to her weak spot, she didn't say anything just thinking maybe he was doing it by accident, but she didn't mind either. She was comfortable with eren she trusted him. His fingers slowly crawled up her thigh to the waistband, of her panties snapping them across her warm skin his fingers were frigid against hers, a low gasp left her lips when his fingers slipped into her fabric as two of them disappeared into her slit. Her eyes lolling back before he's done anything. “You know how patient I've been?” eren mumbles, y/n looks at him in utter confusion, all she could see was his firm sculptured jawline, the stubbles from his beard coming back.

“Since you came out that house, wearing this beautiful outfit, and your elegant makeup, I wanted to cancel on them and drag you right back into the house” removing his hand from her needy core he spreads her legs open with his free hand, before removing her panties and throwing them in the back seat. Her wet core exposed to the cold air made her squirm to feel anything as if eren could read her mind his index finger slid up and down her core feeling her walls clench in anticipation. “Pretty girl, got all dressed up you look so lovely, dress like this more often and ill reward you hm?” eren pinched her clit between his two fingers making her body twitch the gasp in her throat quickly turned into an air pocket. “You're so beautiful my dear, you want these fingers inside of you?”

“Please?” y/n begged, without further ado, he preps his two fingers coated in her lubrication before sliding them into her needy hole. Her short gasp fueling his desire for her. “Look at you, baby, a beautiful mess for me” eren looks in her direction at the red light to further pound her with his fingers, the palm of his hand slamming against her clit “faster..” she begs her body heat getting warmer by the second “your wish is my command babygirl” eren knew what he was doing saying that word. It was her weakness, eren sped up his fingers as he curled them inside her sloppy hole. The broken syllabus of her saying Eren's name, seeing her squirm next to him fueled him, even more, to just get home fast.

“Eren—I'm coming” her legs were shaking too close but eren pulled out followed by her whine, his glossed fingers smack her inner thigh “keep them open for me pretty girl hm?” he placed his fingers on her tongue as she sucked her flavor off his finger. “Okay,” she whines “good girl” eren praises her. His fingers engulf back into her hole the tender buzzing between her legs resurfaced and she was on edge again. Eren was fingering her faster than he was a moment ago, his left hand gripping the steering wheel as he speeds home to ravish her. “Fuck—” she whispered “you're going to come for me princess?” he asked, she whimpered a small yes feeling her legs trembling to his touch.

“Come for me beautiful” eren decrees, her body shuttered under the drastic sentiment of his fingers coddled inside of her. She couldn't keep her eyes open due to the shock going through her body. His fingers swiped her clit left and right to procure another orgasm out of her, her whimpers twisted into short pants brandishing his wrist with both of her hands after riding out her second orgasm he discarded his hands from her pulsing clit and walloped her essence off his fingers, her legs fastening right after. “Taste as good as you look, princess, you did well for me” smiling at her broken form he just couldn't wait to ravish her at home.

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Getting home eren wasted no time holding her over his shoulders making her giggle at how needy he is for her. Getting a vigorous glimpse at his leather seats they were lustrous but he didnt have the time or thought to do anything, that all she had to do was wear glittery eyeshadow to get him pungent and irked. Throwing his metallic keys in the receptacle he kicked off his shoes and omitted hers simultaneously. “I love you, you know that?” Eren murmurs before positioning her on the bed “yeah, and I love you more” he cupped her face as their inflamed lips adjoined for each other her nails stroking his stern arms before coiling them in his chocolate locks, strands of his hair mashing against her forehead making her smile into their fervent session. “You’re perfect” Eren mumbles in her neck, vacating humid elegant kisses on her susceptible skin, the forlorn pants and stubble weakness for attention made him sneer against her skin.

His fingers draped around her throat holding her in place as his lips suck softly on his skin, Eren wasn’t an aficionado of hickies, but he did cherish to give soft bites and pulls from his lips on her skin, every time he did it gave her goosebumps. His free hand floundering to get her bra off he latched it off in a matter of seconds, he enables her out of her clothes the nimble air blowing on her body as he clasped his hoodie from the peripheries and over his head. Y/n was enthralled by his sculpted body, his abs defined all the way down to his v-line. “See something you relish princess?” His tongue cascade against his lower lip. “I see something I love” Eren grins “you’re cute” grabbing her by the ankles he heaved her towards the edge of the bed both of her legs upon his shoulder.

Frittering no time Eren hauled his tongue up her folds teasing her, while her head inundated in the pillow reaching out for his hands. Clutching her hand into his, while his tongue swirled around her folds already feeling unstable. Eren invariably said he could devour her for weeks and would never get depleted, now he was eating like he was famished weaving his tongue between her folds his green eyes looked Into her eyes with ardor and fascination, her legs coercing to close when he altered the pattern of his tongue to quick flicks.

She strived to say his name but was ceased by his lips engulfing her clit as he executed zigzags her mouth agape for seconds before she divulged all down his chin fidgeting for something to mellow her down. Eren wasn’t going to let her run away from her fourth orgasm so he dragged her in closer and inserted his fingers into her slowly. “Good girl princess” he gripes across her thighs, sweet kisses to her trembling thighs made him smile, hoisting his head up his fingers swirl inside of her repeatedly peaking at her g-spot. “Going to give me another one princess? Or better yet how about I make you squirt hm?” His eyes drifted darker, they were no longer a sour apple, they resemble the pine trees. “I can’t—“ she smothered grabbing his wrist with both of her hands.

She could feel the knot expanding in her stomach the pressure and feeling to squirt all over his hand along with the overstimulation made her shiver to the touch. “Yes, you can beautiful” Eren cupped her face in his free hand placing endearments on her lips and crown of her head. “Let me see that luxurious face as you soak up the sheets, let daddy discover it baby” his free hand encircled around her neck adding no pressure just to hold her in place. The tones of his palm slapping against her throbbing weak spot. Her pants were getting abrupter and tighter but her moans enhanced almost screaming out Eren's name and some mishandled cursed words. Her liquid soaking up Eren's v-line and mattress.

“Look at you, baby you’re so stunning darling” her drowsy face as her eyes started to cross, as she could see through her hooded eyelashes was Eren coming to land soft kisses on her forehead. Her body felt paralyzed she never knew she could do that. And Eren was the only one to get her to do it. She senses the weight of the bed sink next to her grinning she whirls over, solely to maintain his hand on her midriff and her thighs by his ears. Her hand striking the headboard for support, she didn’t know what he was doing candidly she thought he was complacent, not announcing she wasn't.

He pulled her waist sitting her down on his face, his tongue grazed over her folds making her twinge, “Eren..” she let out desperately “I may suffocate you” she weakly notified him, all distress left her mind once his hand clashed with her ass. Biting her lower lip she sat on his face thoroughly as he rumbled in happiness. She snickered at how much he’s enjoying this, it’s something new for the both of them. Trudging her folds on his tongue she glimpsed down at him seeing the fulfillment in his eyes she extracted the fringes of his hair from his glossy forehead. The traction drove her eccentric she needed more from him, placing his fingers on her bud he stimulated her at the pace she was moving. Which made her more frantic.

Her head lolled back desperately wanting more, she sped up for rhythm as Eren followed in pursuit, becoming greedy with his touch, she was approaching her now fifth? Sixth? Orgasm? She lost count after she left the car. Her forehead firmly pressed against the headboard has she comes undone. Eren cleaned her like a dinner plate he didn’t want any of her Essences to drop. Helping her up he lays her on her stomach, perching her ass up to him. He knew this would ultimately destroy her after they were through but he didn’t care.

She looked beautiful today. His tip taunting her entrance she moaned for him, “I hear you babygirl” his hand collided with her ass leaving a stubble print, her fingers grabbed purchase of the sheets when he rammed himself in without reluctance her toes spiraling until she fully adjusted to his expanse. Sex with Eren was either arduous or delicate, with no in-between. “Look at you taking all of me, lovely girl” fastening his hands around her waist the pitches of his low wails made her clench around him, his waistline hitting against her. She was a whimpering predicament underneath him as he demolished her for what felt like the tenth time.

Skin to skin colliding with the mixture of Eren's dirty talk, and her soft moans she tried to comprise, Eren wanted her to be loud, damn what their neighbors said he wanted to give it to her till she couldn’t fight it. “Cmon baby, utilize your words” he roared at her through his clenched cheeks, the repulse of his body denouncing against her as he continued to ravage her, “let me and the neighborhood hear those delightful little moans” he grabbed her hair placing her head on his shoulder for support as he placed delicate kisses upon her forehead. He slowly placed her back on the bed before he completely drilled her endlessly, she was now on the horizon of crying out his name out, her moans were boisterous than before, if someone didn’t know better they would’ve thought she was shouting for aid.

“Atta girl” Eren facilitated her, her body was simmering as the beads of sweat crept down her shoulder and onto the bed, he adored that face she makes when he ignites her into subspace, he hoists her fully one time holding his length inside of her, she gasped for air as her body started shuddering at the pressure. “Fuck..” was all she could let out as she came undone.“Pretty girl, you’d let me know if I’m being too harsh right?” Eren inquired out of serendipity, all y/n could do was nod. His lips kissed her temple down to her lips in a delicate manner “promise? I need words princess” he uttered in her ear. “Yes,” she let out in the form of a hum.

“Good, I don’t wanna hurt you, or get greedy just because you’re not saying anything okay? I love you” Eren soothed her, “I love you more” y/n responded. Eren slid his length out slowly as she whimpered from her high “sensitive aren't we?” He quips she turns over on her stomach to throw her arms around his neck he kissed her lips softly to savor every feeling he has right now. She wasn’t emigrating anywhere but he certainly kissed her like she was leaving tomorrow. Feeling her hand traversing to his member she brings in closer until he’s halfway inside of her. “You didn’t come” her eyes sparkled into his, the fingertips that were on her cheeks were now In her hair.

“This isn’t too much for you?, honestly just made this about you and how beautiful you looked today” Eren questions her, followed by a short ramble. “this is just perfect, this about us baby I love you” y/n giggles, Eren pressed his forehead against hers “m’kay, I love you more” Eren took the more vigorous approach, soft but drilling strokes, as much as he rushed it now he wanted to admire her. The way her eyebrows pleated when he strike the right spot, the way her lower lip fit merely prudent in between her teeth, the way she nestled his face in her hands, the strings of her hair attaching to her forehead he loved it, he’s never cherished someone as much as her. Picking up the momentum slowly his pants inaugurates to become in unison with hers the smirk on his face when his fingers flickered her bud his nose dusting against her neck.

“Come with me goddess,” he said in her neck, her nails digging into his back, she held on for dear life, her face plunged into his neck as she came, and he withdrew and did the same. Once his eyes were now on her she titters at his handsome crisp green eyes “Eren you’re so beautiful” he derides before kissing her temple. “That’s my line, I may have to litigate you” his craggy voice echoes from the bathroom, with her eyes close she shook at the touch of a calm cloth. “Shh, no ones here” he kidded, y/n smacked him with a pillow before giggling “such a fucking cocky bastard” Eren climbed on top of her “and you love it” he kissed her nose before presenting her his shirt as he put on sweatpants.

“Danger!” She screamed, Eren swiveled his eyes knowing precisely what she meant “don’t fret I’ll take you in the shower darling” y/n eyes enlarged as he pulled her back into his chest “respectfully of course” Eren gleamed in her hair before closing his eyes. “Maybe I should do red glimmer for the party on Wednesday”

“You’ll have to cancel right now if that’s your scheme, cause you’re not leaving you know how red gets me” he laughed, but his tone was far from a hoax “maybe I don’t wanna go” she chortles turning into his chest her nose prickled his collarbone, “deal” he smiled smoothing her shoulders in a circular motion.

“I love you Eren” she grumbled

“I love you more y/n”

♡ ·  ·  ·  · ────•.°本°.•──── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

#eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager x reader #attack on titan eren #snk eren

[zonna-c]

Something Special

This continues after Perfume Disaster and Overprotectiveness Might Be A Bad Thing…

warning: soft/safe vore story

Mammon had taken Zonna words of heart and back off and everything felt normal again, Zonna could almost forget about what happened but she still got flustered when Beel or lucifer stomach growled. She could hang out with everyone again with mammon only popping in every now and again and easily shoo away, she finally could have a nice long talk with Asmo which was pretty much him begging her to forgive him while he promised not to loss control of himself like that again crying and whining worried she hated him. And how mean Lucifer had been confiscating the perfume from him and Diavolo banded it so it couldn't even be made anymore!

“It's ok really Asmo no more tears.” Zonna said patting his back she had never been good with crying people even though he wasn't balling, more like waving his hand close to his eyes looking up at the ceiling trying not to cry in between apologizing she really couldn't tell if he was faking it or really trying not to cry...

“No it’s not, let me make it up to you!” Asmo whine dramatically pressing his wrist to his forehead like an overacting drama queen actor. “Oh how about a makeover! Oooo and a nice bath, a cute outfit and then let's hit the town!” Asmo said excitedly

Zonna frowned so this wasn't a real apology, he was just trying to get her to go out with him again “really?” Zonna whine frowning at him

“Oh come on please? If you don't like it then.. We don't have to go out.” Asmo whined his light orange fire-like eyes staring into her hazel ones

“Asmo…,” Zonna said leaning closer to him making him chuckle lightly

“Yes.” he purred his hand gently resting on her shoulder

“Your eye trick doesn't work on me.” Zonna sighed, flicking his forehead “bad horny dog.” she grumbled trying to get up

Asmo yelped, holding his forehead not like it hurt him, but it only hurt his pride that she could so easily shrug him off “wait! Am sorry” he whined batting his long eyelashes giving her his best puppy dog eyes

“Asmo.” Zonna sighed looking back at him

“I wont do anything, so please i want to hang out with you Zonna don't you like me?” Asmo whined that she would never hang out in his room for long and flinched away from his touch; it was a big blow to his self-esteem.

“Of course I like you.” Zonna said

“Then let's take a bath together!” Asmo said happily “AWWWWoooooo i was kidding!” Asmo whined as she flicked his forehead again “but I did get a new hypoallergenic sensitive skin bath bomb that smells really good and I thought it would be good for your skin!”

“Really?” Zonna said skeptically

“Yes I even checked the list Satan made, it's safe!” Asmo said happily “and you can use my bath of course then I can do you nails, hair, ooohh you have to let me do your makeup!” Asmo said happily

“Let's just start with a bath.” Zonna said. She’d caved to Asmo this time plus she could use a nice warm bath… she had to push Asmo out of the bathroom after he put the outfit he wanted her to try on, on the counter. Saying he would scrub her back for her if needed as she slammed the door with a sigh nervously that he somehow magically opened the door, it was his bathroom it wouldn't be too weird to think he had a key. She walked over to the bathtub and looked over the bath bomb wondering what was in it. The bright pink color worried her, she'd kill him if it stain her skin. She gently put it in the water watching it foam and changed the water to a soft pink color. The smell of pumpkin spice filling the room. The color didn't match the smell, not that she minded as she relaxed into warm water hair tied up in a bun to keep it from getting wet. She stay in the bath tell the water was to cold slowly, reluctantly getting out looking over the outfit “no” she said to herself as she change back into her normal clothes she was not going to wear the glittery pink dress no way in hell she walked out, Asmo frown see that she hadn't even tried on the dress “pink is not my color.” she said with a shrug

“Oh…. Well, let's do your nails!” Asmo said happily as he pulled out all the different colors he had “pick one.”

Zonna ended up picking a dark almost black purple that had glitter in it. she would have liked to paint them black but didn't want to match Diavolos nails, though he probably love it if they did match

“Pink would look better or green.” Asmo whine

“Then I would match yours.” Zonna said with a laugh

“Ok we have the color now we just need to cut and shape your nails.” Asmo said taking her hand

“Don't cut them!” Zonna almost shouted closing her hand up into a fist as he grabbed the nail clippers

“It's really long, I mean it's like you got claws.” Asmo huffed, staring at her long perfectly white natural nails.

“Please?” Zonna begged

“Fine but I have to shape them!” Asmo huffed putting away the nail clippers getting his glass nail file she didn't have a problem with that just hated the sound it made, finally he was able to paint them the dark purple did go well with what she normally wears he admitted to himself. If only he could get her to wear something that wasn't a dark color. “Ok now the feet to match.” Asmo said happily

“What? no, I don't wear open toe shoes, I don't need them painted.” Zonna said with a wave of her hand looking a little nervous

“No, they have to match.” Asmo said

“Asmo no I don't want my toenails painted.” Zonna huffed Asmo smirked as he texted someone “Asmo...:no” Zonna said nervously trying to get up to leave

When mammon stopped in the check on Zonna he found her half on the bed half off Beel holding her legs at the ankle and Asmo with a bottle of nail polish carefully holding her foot still as he painted them. Well Zonna shout at them about how they were going to regrets this and how she was going to get them back for this in between laughs and giggles as she wiggled like a fish out of water as she tried and failed to pull her legs away from Beel grip, turns out her feet are incredibly ticklish much to Asmo amusement as he messed with her while painting her toes “what the hell going on!” mammon shouted

“Just trying to paint her toenails.” Asmo said like it wasn't obvious “Mammon do you need your nails painted again?” he asked not looking up

“Asmo promise to take me to hell’s kitchen if I helped” Beel said as he looked over to mammon then back to Zonna making sure he wasn't holding her leg to tightly but also not loose enough for her to slip free and mess up her freshly painted toenails

Mammon stood there for a while not really knowing what to do before just slowly backing out of the room closing the door he check in later….,

Asmo finally finished painting her toes and Beel let her go she glared at both of them “sorry” Beel mumbled softly looking away from her

“You fine Beel it’s Asmo that made you do it.” Zonna grumbled knowing beel couldn't say no when food was involved

“But look out how pretty they are! And your feet are cute, you should wear open toe shoes!” Asmo said as he put the nail polish away checking her hands making use she didn't mess them up somehow “ok now the hair.” Asmo said happily like she was not glaring daggers. “Oh come on rabbit it wasn't that bad.” Asmo huffed

“Am not a rabbit!” Zonna grumbled letting Asmo lead her to the bathroom as Beel left. He happily pulled everything he needed out, having her sit in his chair in front of the mirror before he undid her messy bun, letting her long brown hair down, it was almost to her elbows. He slowly brushed through it as the curling iron warm up

“So I never got the juicy details of what happened after you got away from me.” Asmo purred as he gently worked out all the tangles in her hair before taking a small section of her hair from the font and braiding it, tying it with a small rubber band leaving the rest of her hair down.

“When….what are you talking about?” Zonna asked hoping it wasn't what she thought he was talking about

“You know with the perfume, you went running to lucifer.” Asmo said as he grabbed the curling iron

“Nothing happened.” Zonna said trying hard not to blushed at the memory

“Liar, liar come on spill it's going to take a while to curl all your hair anyway.” Asmo said as he stared to work on little section at a time spraying it with something to it would hold the curl humming to himself

“Really nothing happened.” Zonna mumbled

“Then you wouldn't be blushing honey bunny.” Asmo purred whispering in her ear “come on i can keep a secret.”

“Not when you're drunk.” Zonna huffed

“So it IS a juicy story. I knew it! Know you have to tell me!” Asmo whined and just wouldn't shut up

“F-fine.” Zonna grumbled halfway through getting her hair curled, she just couldn't take it anymore of Asmo begging and he was waving the curling iron around as he whined giving her a heart attack “BUT Asmo, you can't NOT tell anyone not a human, demon, angel, ghost, not a soul!” Zonna growl Asmo yelp the pact taking hold

“Y-yes master Zonna…., But that's not fair!” Asmo whined wanting to gossip

“Well then, i could just not tell you then.” Zonna said with a shrug

“NO, now you have to tell me!” Asmo whine and so Zonna did her face aflame as she did so Asmo didn't say a word and happily curled her hair even when she had to stop a few time to flustered by remembering what lucifer said to her to continue she did feel a little better tell someone about it, little did she or Asmo know that mammon was on the other side of the door, listening to the story he didn't mean to overhear! He just wanted to check on Zonna and now he couldn't walk in or just leave! He grumbled as he heard what Lucifer had said to her to get her to agree it pissed him off just how smooth his big brother was. He quickly snuck off when she finished the story before he got caught “well you got to see a different side of lucifer, am glad he didn't just gulp you down but i must admit I'm a little jealous..” Asmo whined

Zonna gave him a look that said drop it or she would leave now so Asmo shut up and started to get the makeup together, he stared at her face and he didn't know what to do. Her freckles were beautiful but he couldn't do a full face of makeup with them so he covered them up…. And was almost finishing when he decided he hated it she look like a completely different person without her freckles a absolutely beautiful person, but he decided i like her freckles more than a clean face look, so he wiped it all off and did a lighter makeup some highlight and dark eyeshadow to make her hazel eyes really pop and red lipstick...little bit of blush there perfect. “Thanks.” Zonna said as she looked at herself in the mirror she never wore makeup so she was glad he didn't put layers and layers of the stuff on.

“Now we just need a dress and some shoes.” Asmo said happily as they walk back to his room and he pulled out a ton of dress how he knew she size she didn't want to know she really didn't want to try all of this on so she pick by color, a pretty dark green dress caught her eye she tried that one on it was a sweetheart neckline with small sleeves a little longer than her knees a little black belt around the waist the skirt puffed out from there. “That's perfect! And i have the perfect shoes” asmo said pulling out 6 inches black stilettos heels

“No thank you, I wear my boots.” Zonna said as she put on her black boot that had a 5 inches heel on them

“B-but stilettos!” Asmo whined looking at the shoes in his hands

“Do you want to carry me home in two hours and face Lucifer wrath because of the blisters I’d get from those shoes?” Zonna asked

“No..” Asmo whined

“So drop the shoes.” Zonna grumbled

“Fine.” Asmo grumbled as he messed with his hair a little, spraying some perfume on himself before turning to her holding the bottle

“Asmo.” Zonna said sternly

“I know, I know but, this is a safe one. Just walk though it?” Asmo asked spraying it into the air in front of Zonna she grumble walking though rose smelling perfume cloud getting some of it on herself but it wasn't strong enough to make her sneeze and know she smelled like asmo

“Alright, all ready to go!” Asmo said happy as Zonna snatched her leather jacket and phone before he pushed her out of the room trying to make a run for it to the door before Lucifer noticed only to find him waiting at the door.

“And just where did you think you two are going?” Lucifer asked, arms crossed as he looked down at both of them, a little startled to see Zonna in a dress, sure she wore some dress for gathering a Diavolo castle but never to just go out. She looked like a little girl and smaller than normal, in that form fitting dress but she was as confident as always staring up at him. He always forgot just how small she was since she wore baggy clothes and her jacket

“Just to The Fall.” Asmo said happily

“No.” lucifer huffed

“But! Please we promise we won't be gone long! Just a few drinks!” Asmo begged “l want to show Zonna off!”

“You ended up leaving her alone in the club.” lucifer growled

“One time! It was one time and nothing happened! Please, it won't happen again! Give me another chance!” Asmo begged

“Please lucifer? I could always call you if he does take off.” Zonna said with a shrug she had got through all the trouble of letting Asmo dress her up why not go out?

Lucifer sighed, rubbing his forehead “fine, but be back by curfew.” he huffed and Asmo quickly dragged Zonna out the door before he could change his mind

“What the hell lucifer!” mammon growled, stepping out of his hiding spot “I tell ya what Asmo plaining and you just let him go with Zonna!”

“Then why don't you go after them mammon? Swooping in when Asmo wanders away, would save me the headache.” lucifer grumbled

“Like I wasn't going to do that anyway.” mammon growled as he walked passed lucifer

“Have fun.” Lucifer said as he walked back to his office back to his stacks of paperwork.

Zonna and Asmo had fun dancing to the loud music, having drinks for about an hour and a half before a group of Asmo followers found them and sweet talked Asmo away for a fun time when Zonna had gone to the bathroom. So when she walked back out into the too loud club she caught a glimpse of Asmo disappearing into one of the back rooms “well that lasted about as long as I thought it would.” Zonna huffed, having to do a little jump to sit in the too tall bar stool ordering one more drink on Asmo tab before she’d call mammon to rescue her. Not like he was far she had spotted him close to the front door about 10 minutes ago, how long he had been there was anyone guess but she felt a little safer with him watching from the shadows she smirk to herself “he properly thinks he is being so sneaky.” she huffed

“A blue rose, mysterious and achieving the impossible a little on the nose there do you think?” a demon asked as he sat down beside her staring at the rose tattoo on her wrist trying to make small talk

“It also symbolizes unattainableness, love at first sight, impossible love, and a new beginning. It's a beautiful rare somewhat impossible flower with many meanings, it’s complex unlike you.” Zonna grumbled shooting that demon a glare she didn't want to play his game

“You sure know your roses.” the demon said with a laugh not getting the hint to back off, too drunkenly brave so he kept talking to her “So why it upside down?” he asked leaning closer

“Cause I wanted it to be, leave me alone.” Zonna growled looking around the club see mammon signature snow white hair almost glowing in the black light coming closer fighting thought the crowned that was when the jerk leaned in closer

“So what is the seven lords human pet doing all dolled up all by itself here, they got bored of their little pet?” he growls, making her turn back to him making eye contact with him, he smirks trying to charm her. “Maybe I could take you somewhere fun after you finished your drink, pet?’ he asked his hand hovering over her back just about to touch her when she picked up her drink like she was going to drink it only to toss it on him.

“Fuck off.” she growled as she got up trying to walk to mammon as the demon sat stunned hair dripping wet from the sticky alcohol drink for a second before rage filled him and he jump up grabbing her wrist spinning her back around to face him but before he could say or do anything she felt a warm gentle hand grabbing on her shoulder pulling her backwards tell she bumped into his chest, devilish no.5 and the hint of cigar smoke filled her nose. She watch the other demons face pale quickly dropping her hand backing up till he hit the bar she could hear mammon wings move stretching out as he let out a low deep guttural growl it send a shiver down her own spine, he growled all the time but this was different and everyone knew it the club went silent only the loud music breaking through the silent tension, mammon huffed as the demons fell to the ground hand up apologizing curled up under a bar stool

“Mine.” Mammon growled holding Zonna close and walked to the door, everyone moving quickly to get out of the way making plenty of room for Mammon his wing pushed any who were not fast enough out of his way onto the floor. Zonna had to walk quickly, almost falling down to keep up with him, his hand never leaving her shoulder as they exited the club back into the quiet streets of devildom.

“Thanks for the save.” Zonna said as she hear him sigh in relief

“Just what were you thinking! Ya want to get into a fight?” mammon grumbled spinning her around to face him he looked mad but seem to be more worried about her than anything else

“No…, just pissed that he called me a pet getting all close to me and I saw you coming. Your hair looks cool in the club.” Zonna said with a shrug mammon grumbled glaring at the door looking like he debating going back in before looking back at her

“Come on, let's go home.” mammon said holding his hand out to her

“What? But It only 9…” Zonna mumbled

“Well what do you want to do?” mammon huffed crossing his arms

“Oh I don't know, I am all dressed up thanks to Asmo, and now he has abandoned me... Oh, What’s a girl to do?” Zonna said dramatically hoping mammon would get the hint

“Well, I guess we could, walking around, see a movie or something maybe?” mammon mumbled as he change out of his demon form blushing lightly

“Sounds lovely.” Zonna said with a giggle as they started walking mammon slowly down, staring at her back. Zonna stopped as she noticed she was a little ahead of Mammon “something wrong?” she asked looking back at him

“No, just never got a good look at you back to notice all the freckles before.” mammon said as he looked over the brown dot they were bigger than the ones on her face doting her pale skin

“Yea of course all the pretty ones I can't see.” Zonna said with a shrug “come on, quiet staring your making be nervous.” Zonna huffed, pushing him in front of herself “so did you win big?” she asked as they walked

“What are ya talking about?’ mammon huffed

“I smell cigar smoke.” Zonna said with a shrug

“I didn't smoke nothing!” mammon said sniffed his shirt worried he knew Zonna hated strong smells. She had avoided him for almost a whole day when he came back for a poker game, not only reeking of cigarettes from the smoke-filled room he had been in, but he smoked a few cigarettes himself! Not knowing that it would cause a problem and couldn't get the smell off tell Asmo help him out with some strong smelling shampoo that kill the smell but was also to strong for zonna and it took a whole day for the smell to ware off so that she would allow him to come close to her. He hasn't smoke a cigarette since and would asked to crack a window when gambling in smoke-filled rooms

“It's not strong, like you were around someone who was smoking.” Zonna said with a shrug

“Knew I should have changed my shirt before leaving.” Mammon growled “I didn't win big but I did make a little, it's not too bad right? I could go buy a new shirt if it is.” mammon asked looking over at her

“No, it's fine.” Zonna said as they ended up a Majolish well outside of Majolish there was one of those claw machines with different color dragon plushies inside

“Oh so this is where Diavolo found that dragon plushie?” mammon asked seeing Zonna staring

“No, that one is a little different than these.”

“Which one do ya want?” Mammon asked as he walked over to it

“What? This game is impossible to win.” Zonna scuffed

“You doubt the great mammon! Pick one.” mammon grumbled

“The black and white one.” Zonna said not only was it the one on top but it wing where almost exactly like Mammons

It took a few tries and mammon almost breaking the game, when it dropped the dragon just before it went into the little shoot, he finally got it happily holding it out to Zonna “Told ya i could get you one.” he smile with a big grin on his face

Zonna took the little dragon from him before hugging him tightly “I shouldn't have doubted you.” Zonna said, pulling back to kiss him on the cheek “thank you.” she said as she looked over the dragon fixing his little white mane of fur that ran down its back

“Yya welcome.” mammon mumble looking away blushing “so what are you going to name it?”

‘Hummm mini mammon.” Zonna said happy hugging the plushy well Mammon seem to loss it she had never seen his face so red

“Www-why?” Mammon asked

“Cause it has your wings and you got him for me.” Zonna said like it was obvious

“Oo-of course ya want to name a toy dragon after me the great mammon.” he said with a laugh as they started walking again only to run into Luke and Simeon just outside of hell kitchen mammon tried to walk quickly but of course the little chihuahua notice zona and started barking

“Hey Simeon, Luke what are you guys doing out here?” Zonna asked as Luke came running up to her

“Just getting some food Solomon tried to cook again almost burned the dorm down.” Simeon said with a nervous laugh

“Zonna! Why are you all dressed up?” Luke asked, making Simeon chuckle “I think they're on a date.” Simeon explained “WWWHAT? That's not true is it Zonna?” Luke whined

“More or less?” Zonna said with a shrug “Asmo wanted to give me a makeover, but left to be with his fans so it's just me and mammon.” zonna explained

“That does sound like something Asmo would do, it's a beautiful dress.” Simeon said as mammon wander off going into hell kitchen knowing the angels would keep her safe for know

“What a cute toy.” Luke said seeing the little dragon Zonna was holding

“Yea mammon got him out of the claw machine at Majolish for me. You could go try your luck if you want one too.” Zonna said with a laugh as Luke begged Simeon to go try and get one.

When mammon came back he had a small to-go bag. He took Zonna's hand and said “Come on.”

“Ok” Zonna said, waving goodbye to Luke and Simeon before following him “just where are we going?” she asked as they started to walk out of town almost back home

“I want to show ya something.” Mammon said as they kept walking he pulled her off the stone path into the forest “watch your step” he said blushing as she grabbed his arm holding it tightly as they walked on the uneven ground using her phone as a flashlight. “Alright we have to jump over this little creek.” mammon said pulling his arm free from her grip easy jumping over the little stream of water Zonna look a little worried “come on i'll catch ya if you fall” mammon said arm open wide

“Am in heels and a dress mammon not the best stuff to hike in.” Zonna grumbled looking over the small gap taking a step back trying to jump it, good news she cleared it, bad new mammon didn't think she could jump quite that far and she pretty much jumped into his arm making him fall back into the grass with her on top of him with a loud ouph

“W-why do ya always have to land on top of me!” mammon whined

“Not my fault this time, and it's not like I'm that heavy.” Zonna said with a laugh just glad she didn't end up in the little creak as she got off him, helped him up and picked the grass out of his white hair “so how much longer are we going to walk?” she asked

“Almost there.” Mammon said with a chuckle covering her eyes with his hands making her walk a few more steps “ready?” mammon whispered in her ear

“Yea.” Zonna said and he slowly drop his hand from her face she blinked and gasped there was a stunning crystal clear lake in front of them reflecting the stars beautifully

“Ya said you like Levi room so i fingered you like this, it nice and quiet no one to bug ya.” mammon said

“So this is your hiding spot?” Zonna asked looking back at him

“Yea, ya could say that.” mammon nodded sitting down Zonna sat down beside him “can ya guess what in the bag?” he asked waving it around

“Smells like something chocolate…. Brownies?” Zonna asked hoping she was right

“Na just any brownies, they're freshly baked brownies!” Mammon said cheerfully as he opened the bag letting her grab one watching her wiggled in place as she happily nibbled on the brownie with a big smile on her face “aren't you going to have one?” Zonna asked looking over at him

He blushed looking away “umm no, don't really like sweets...no i mean i don't want them.., right now… I am not hungry.” mammon mumbled glaring at his middle when it growled in disagreement Oh she got it know, he took her to a nice place, got her a snack so this was his ‘something special’

“The stars are beautiful tonight ” Zonna asked leaning against his shoulder acting like she didn't know what was going on yet, setting the little dragon on her lap “but it's a little chilly.”

“Y-yeah...mmm Zonna?..,I umm.. No…, never mind it's nothing.” mammon said, wrapping his arm around her letting her snuggle into his side, blushing hard wishing he could just come out and say it! They sat watching the lake in peaceful silence for a while as he tried and failed to work up the nerve to ask.

“So was Asmo taking me out part of the plan or was that a happy accident?” Zonna asked as she knew he was back out of his plan, so why no let him in on the fact she knew what he was planning

“What? What plan? i didn't have a plan, don't ya what you talking about” mammon grumbled

“Whatever you say mammon, but it's getting cold shouldn't we start heading back?” Zonna asked with a shiver

“No, just a little longer.” mammon whine holding her close changing to his demon form wrapping his wing around her to keep her warm as he grumbling to himself

“What are you grumbling about?” Zonna asked gently petting his wing making him shiver

“It's just! Lucifer he got to eat ya and then Beel did right under my nose! But I- I want to, too but” mammon mumbled lowering his head “ya...ya not scared of getting eaten right?”

“Of Course, I am terrified of getting eaten….” Zonna asked, letting out a sigh as he whined holding her closer “I'm terrified of getting eaten by a random demon, or getting stolen away by one….but.” Zonna said gently, making him look up, meeting her glaze, “but, letting one of my boys hold me close away from everyone where no one can steal me away? What could be better?” Zonna said ruffling his fluffy white hair kissing his forehead.

“So i-i can? Mammon asked face aflame

“Yes, mammon, you can eat me.” Zonna said, rolling her eyes. Hating that she had to say it out loud but mammon wasn't going to push her and she rather have a nice warm somewhat damp bed that no one could get to, then her own cold bed after pissing the demon off. She giggled feeling his wing tremble though if it was from excitement or nervous she couldn't tell, as he said the two spell Zonna shut her eyes pushing the dragon plushie off her lap not wanting it to get shrunk with her, when the dizziness disappeared she look up at him from the ground a little shock she was way smaller that both the other two times she had been eaten only about 7 maybe 8 inches tall. Which meant mammon looked huge.

He very slowly reach out to her holding his hand flat to the ground she stared at it for a minute before slowly walking over trying to step up only for mammon to flinch her heels felt so weird on his hand, making her fall her hands and knees into his palm “sorry,” he said softly as he brought her closer to his face looking her over slowly moving his other hand gently pat her head running his fingers down her back petting her gently as she move to sit more comfortable on his hand “ya ok right?”

“Yes mammon, I'm perfectly fine, I am not so fragile that a little stumble would hurt me.” Zonna said with a laugh knowing that was not what he was talking about he grumbled to himself looking her over again, as she study his hand amazed at how big they were and his silver rings

“So my brothers, they didn't really let ya hang out and have fun being little and all, since they just wanted a snack so ...is there anything you want to explore first?” mammon asked nervously his wings twitched

“Yea, actually I really want a closer look at you horns.” Zonna said

“My horns? Sure but let me lay down first.” Mammon mumbled carefully moving to lay on his belly keeping his head level as he brought his hand and her closer to his black horns, mammon flinched when she hopped out of his hand into his thick white hair. “Yo i didn't say ya could climb on my head!” mammon growled

“Please? Your hair is so soft and fluffy!” Zonna whined as he felt her sit down next to his left horn patting his head before looking over it over the spiral horn gently running her hand over the smooth black horn

“Fine but just cause ya look so cute like a little doll.” mammon chuckled gently poking her

“Am not a doll.” Zonna grumbled trying shoving his finger away from her face

“Na, I know, but with that pretty dress on you look like one. I am surprised Asmo got ya to wear something like that, it is not really your style.” mammon said fight the instinct to look up or move his head at all as he felt her lay down rubbing his head around his horn making him purr

“You don't like the dress?” Zonna asked looking down at the pretty green dress

“i-i didn't s-say that! Mammon said shaking his head freezing up when she yelp and roll a little and that was the end of her little adventure as mammon gently pinch her waist picking her up off his head placing her on his hand moving her close to his face looking her over worriedly

“Asmo would be so mad if he knew the dress was going to end up getting covered in drool.” Zonna said with a laugh “I can just about hear him shrieking about it now.”

“Then maybe he shouldn't have left ya all alone.”

“Yea, but then you would have been so bored hanging out by the door like a bouncer waiting for your moment to steal me away.”

“H-how! When ya notices?” mammon mumbled

“Your white hair makes you stand out like a road flare with the black lights and your sunglasses on top. Who else could it be?” Zonna said with a chuckle, Mammon grumbled “and you're not that sneaky.”

“Yo! am plenty sneaky when I want to be! I just wasn't trying that hard.” Mammon growled flashing his sharp white teeth glistening in the full moon light wings opening wide flapping once making a cold breeze that made her shiver and blew her hair back.

“Sure ya are.”Zonna huffed mimicking his accent crossing her arms

“The great mammon is sneaky. I'll prove it to ya I'll sneak into the house right past lucifer, and he won't have any idea am there or that I ate ya!”

“If you ever eat me that is.” Zonna said with a smirk as mammon blushed stuttering

“I-i was getting to that!” Mammon grumbled but didn't move her close to his mouth he just stared face aflame as she looked up at him “i-i can't do it with you staring at me like that!” mammon whine covering his mouth with his other hand “close ya eyes or something...so ya don't get scared the great mammon is not nervous at all!”

Zonna burst into a laughing fit as she shrugged off her leather jacket shivering at the loss of warmth the jacket provided, then pulled off her boots and thought about it a minute before pulling her sock off to stuffing them into one of the boots “think you can hide these in one of your pockets?” Zonna asked putting the jacket and boots away from herself

“Yea, I can do that.” Mammon mumbled as he took them, stuffing them into his pants pocket before looking up at her sitting on his palm hugging herself tightly “Ya were not even ready!” mammon huffed his warm breath washing over her

“I didn't want to take my jacket off to tell YOU were ready.” Zonna said with a shrug, looking at his mouth as he moved her closer but instead of opening wide he gently kissed her before giving her a little licking, humming thoughtful as he pulled back “what are you doing?” Zonna asked, wiping some of the drool off her cheek only to get another small lick like he was psyching himself up or something?

“Spicy coffee.” mammon said with a smile licking his lips

“W-what?” Zonna asked blushing as he licked her again looking at him like he had two head as he hummed happily

“Ya taste, like coffee, but spicy.” mammon purred happily

“You mean bitter?” Zonna asked, confused about the spicy, how is coffee spicy?

“Na, more like sweet vanilla cream coffee with a hint of spicy….something.” mammon purred licking a little harder covering her in drool knocking her back to lay down in his warm palm

“Guess you like the way it tastes though.” Zonna said, shaking her drooling cover arm off blushing as he nodded vigorously leaned closer for another lick she giggled as his tongue tickled her side trying to push it away as he happily licked her a few more times it was almost like he was trying to tickle her. “Are you just going to sit here licking me all night or are you going to let me in?” Zonna asked as she tried not to laugh as he licked her side again he froze closing his mouth, she whined the warm drool cooling off fast she pushing against his closed lips with a soft whine, ever so slowly opened his mouth, but he didn't push her in just let her sit there looking into his mouth on his palm. She started at his big fangs gently running her hand over them before lending in putting her hands on his tongue, it immediately attacked her arms making her face plant into it, his lips closed around her middle as he purred gently licking her face and bare arms before pushing her legs into his mouth only her ankles and bare feet left in the cold outside air as he purred, lick and pushes she around inside his mouth carefully keeping her away from his teeth though. And almost sucking on her at times having to pin her to the roof of his mouth gulping the gallons of drool that threaten to drown her. Zonna rubbed his tongue when she had the space, liking the way his purr and got louder when she did so. She yelp when he tilted his head up his finger gently grabbed her ankles pulling her back out into the chilly night air she shivered wrapping her arms around herself, hanging upside down looking down at him with a string of drool connected her to his lips he stare up at her eyes half close a goofy grin on his face as he gulps loudly one more time slowly licking his lips before talking.

“Ya taste really, really good Zonna….ya ready?” mammon asked

“Yes! Before I become a popsicle would be nice!” zona grumbled with a shiver as he open wide again the moonlight illuminating his mouth sharp canines and teeth framing his mouth, his warm pink tongue coving her bottom teeth as he lower her back down but he stop gently licks her face before close his mouth to speak again again

“Thanks, for letting me, for trusting me to eat ya. Love ya Zonna.” Mammon said, giving her a quick kiss before quickly opening wide, stuffing her inside again before she could say anything. Purring and licking her a few times letting drool ran down his chin before he gulp loudly rubbing his neck at the bulge she made as she slowly slipped down disappearing pass his collarbone his fingers traced her path down into his chest as he slowly leaned back before laying in grass, resting his hand on his stomach purring feeling her move around “ya ok in there?”

“Yea, I'm fine. It's just different being smaller.” Zonna mumble

“Bad difference? I could make ya bigger if you like.” mammon asked rubbing at her

“No, no it's just different, it's a lot roomer it here, feels softer too.” Zonna said petting the walls around her making him shiver and purr hugging his middle

“Good, I'd like to make ya bigger but I can't have the others finding out, ya all mine tonight.” mammon purr he belly glowing a bring beautiful yellow

“I'll let you be greedy tonight” Zonna huffed rubbing and kneading the walls making mammon purr and a wiggle around he even chirped a few time as he rubbed his belly feeling for her with his fingers eyes closed he blushed when Zonna said in a sing song voice like someone talking to a dog “who my good boy? Who is the best boy? Who is too overprotective for his own good?”

“Me?” mammon purred as she kneading to the warm wall making him chirp

“You are yes, you are my good overprotective puppy dog.” Zonna said with a chuckle as she continue to rub and praise him

There little bit of alone time came to an end, as mammon phone started buzzing the alarm Zonna had put on his phone for curfew, he had 30 minutes to get back before lucifer set curfew so with a sigh he turn it off and got up “well my delicious little reckless human it's time to head home.” he said patting his belly before changing out of his demon form picking up the little dragon plushie and bag of brownies from the ground

“Ok, don't forget mini mammon!” Zonna shouted pawing at the front wall

“Course not, I got him.” Mammon huffed looking at the little black and white dragon over “I could shrink him and eat him too if ya want him to snuggle?” mammon asked looking down at his middle as he started to walk

“No, then I have to try and get the drool off him! I have a hard enough time washing it out of my own hair.” Zonna said as she curled up getting comfy for the walk home mammon shrugged tucking the little plushie under his arm and Zonna was slowly rocked to sleep with the sway of his steps

Mammon snuck in and got to his room without lucifer noticing or so he thought, as soon as he started getting ready for bed lucifer walk in making him jump out of his skin his hand protectively placed over his belly

“So?” lucifer asked lending against the door noticing how mammon’s hand hovered over his belly

“So what?” mammon asked trying to act nonchalant

“Do I really have to say it?” lucifer sighed mammon frown looking down at his belly grumbling cause he had been caught but Zonna was asleep so.., she didn't have to know about his failure

“It was... fine.” Mammon mumbled quickly, looking away from his older brother. As he gently rubbed his belly absentmindedly “she's already sleeping.”

Lucifer smirks, throwing a small box to mammon “to stop your snoring hopefully.”

Mammon easily caught the box, looked down at the nasal strips then back at Lucifer “t-thanks?”

“I can't have the exchange student walking around like a zombie tomorrow even if it’s not a school day. She needs her rest, so you need to be quiet.” lucifer huffed

Lucifer moved to open the door when Mammon spoke up again “and I think you're right...she does like...this.” mammon said licking his lips getting i little hint of her coffee flavor from his lips making him purr

“Yes…, unfortunately it does appear that way. Diavolo would not be pleased to know that she is being eaten so not a word of this to anyone got it?” lucifer growled

“Of course I am not telling, I don't need any more competition for belly cuddle rights!” Mammon growled as Lucifer left, leaving his brother alone for the night, now he just had to wait for Asmo to sneak home… Later that night Asmo thrilled drunken screams could be heard throughout the house.

#safe vore #soft vore #shall we vore #mammon vore #my wriitng