#his expression looked better on my ipad... oh well

[aldercaps]

"ready for another spar?"

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #halsin #i wanted to extend his tattoos down his torso but i got so tired drawing all that hair #his expression looked better on my ipad... oh well #my art #also i just got halsin in my party <3 thanks as always to my partner for letting me use their giant PC to play the silly little dnd game

[khristie16]

The Fast and Forbidden

Charles is a famous F1 driver with everything one could want: fame, fortune, and fans. But he is missing one thing. Being his new personal assistant changes everything for both of them.

— chaper 1 It is your first day settling in Formula 1 world. You find out there is something off with Charles, but you ignore it. At least you convince yourself to.

disclaimer: yn with "I" pov format x slowburn

Lights were casting a shadow enveloping me as I headed toward Charles's room. My mind went on full speed and palms getting wet, feet suffering from the fancy wearing for this job. High heels clapping was the only thing disturbing this silence. This whole job experience was pestering but there was no choice but moving out from my family.

Butterflies in stomach were at its peak as I started to acknowledge this is our first meeting. Did I feel like a stalker? Standing in front of his door in a hotel he was accommodated? Definitely. But it is better to meet up here then outside with sound screeching and flashing cameras.

Giving myself one big inhale to reach for the door knob, the wooden squeak made me fall few steps behind and muscles stopped moving as Charles was leaving the apartment. Wearing Ray Ban sunglasses does a lot to one's sight evidentially. His presence was getting far away from mine as he was heading towards the elevator.

"Wait!"

The growing distance between us has stopped. With a serious tone and hands pointing at me, "I'll call the security''

My throat got tight and words couldn't pass through. His words were flowing in and out of me as waves of the ocean in the night, making me restless. Time flew fast and I was met once again with his back showing a gray hoodie.

"I'm your new assistant!"

Hope filled my veins. Mind was playing with the possibility of being thrown out displayed as a fan girl. NOT. His turn was so abrupt I was shocked he didn't crack his neck. Sweet, yet deep voice crashed my eardrums making me feel searing.

"YN?"

I nodded and I finally let my lungs chill. Damn, this started easy.

Sides of his lips crooked making me feel not welcomed but I could finally take a breath. The distance got shorter while I remained situated on one position.

"Sorry for that. I'm Charles."

Chuckle left my mouth as I found the introduction nonessential. Hands connected with him leaving warm tickles on my skin and his cologne messing my senses. God, he smelled good.

“I’m sorry, I must have looked like a stalker,” his nod made me feel even worse.

All I could inhale was airy scent torturing me, enlarging the lift going down with no noise to muddle the silence. A sway of sadness ran through my body given the fact I have to do this job. Slow mornings moving my body to the sound of inner peace and calmness enveloping my heart, the safeness growing inside of me as if it would tear me apart if given the chance to expand. Creative days with no rush and restrictions in nature. Looking to the sunlight and warming my skin touching its sleeves. I never in my heart wanted to be this 'empowered independent' woman the society has made.

I lost all the hope when opening the door of SUV myself. Has the chivalry really gone dead? Thoughts were torn off from the noise, exciting screams from Ferrari fans hovering over the car.

"Have you previously done such a job?" His gaze locked onto mine; I tilted my head in an attempt to discern the eye color, but no clear answer emerged. I chose to let the moment slide.

"No experience with the celebrity lifestyle." He nodded reassuringly, expressing confidence that I would adapt well.

The quietude felt like a snare. Knowing he is not the chatty one, I clenched my teeth. Fingers touched the screen on iPad scrolling through files kept for assisting Charles's personal life.

''I've made some changes and saved a decent amount of money''

I skimmed through the palette on the page styling and got myself wondering which of these colors match his.

''Oh, wow,'' resonated through the air. ''I trust your intellect. You are paid for it after all''

The spoken words seared into my ears, yet I acknowledged him for stating the obvious. Almost as if summoned, my mind spilled forth the reasons why I had accepted this job. The whole concept of my future given by my family's idea was the reason. Working for Charles was better than staying home.

My fingers danced across the screen, orchestrating household tasks in his absence, as a cool breeze caressed my skin. I found solace in the fact that within the SUV, I could relish the refreshing chill, outside it was a walk through hell. Speaking of, it felt as though someone had touched me with a hot frying pan against my bare skin. I turned my gaze to the left, only to find his eyes expressing fondness toward my exposed thigh. The fleeting moment of admiration came to an abrupt end as our eyes locked, and I could swear I detected a spark of intensity in his gaze. Its reason unknown to me. The back of my thigh touched the seat underneath as feet touched the floor again.

''We're almost there'' having Ray Ban again.

Leaving the car as the last one, setting feet in the hell delivered a numb pain. Mix of frustration and calling for help left my lips making Charles shot a glance in my direction as I sat there.

"What's the matter?" The genuine tone in his voice caused my shoulders to slump.

''These heels are killing me,'' skimming the pair of Jimmy Choo heels made my lips curl.

I liked to dress. Wear pretty things. But per usual, pretty things cost, coming from a humble background, the prospect of high heels and I seemed like an incompatible pair, especially in the beginning.

My breath caught in my throat as I stared ahead.

"I value my employees; choose something more comfortable next time," he continued through clenched teeth.

''I am supposed to look presentable,'' I retorted.

''You can look presentable while being comfortable,'' with his last words, he turned away, revealing his back—a connection I, regrettably, began to foster too much.

Engaging in Formula 1 is demanding on both the psyche and the body of the driver. This is why considerable effort is dedicated to maintaining optimal physical fitness, the amount of work they put into it is out of this world and one wouldn’t even tell. This misunderstanding often stems from the assumption that individuals who engage in rigorous physical training automatically develop bulky muscles. However, in Formula 1, many drivers maintain a lean physique with a minimal percentage of body fat.

This is one of the reasons I accepted this job—a relatively minor one, but my admiration for these drivers played a part in my decision. even though they don't save lives of others while risking their lives like firefighters do, they still risk a lot.

Sound of chaos lingered around me watching Charles race on the Singapore circuit, my vision blurred as I found myself yearning for something more profound to heighten the level of respect for this man, changing the weight from one foot to another.

Mere fame is insufficient for me to offer respect. A person, regardless of their status, should demonstrate general respect towards women and interact with them using good manners. I ran away from my family because of this and I block any misconceptions this society made. As of now, I have a feeling that something might be off with Charles.

“You’re the new assistant?” I titled my chin up to see a man looking at me. His hair seemed to absorb no light at all. Forming theories about the man—his inclination toward comfortable attire and a penchant for photography—I nodded in acknowledgment and shifted my focus back to the swift cars, resembling nothing more than fleeting smudges.

“I’m Joris, Charles's close friend”

His hand reached out to me and I accepted his offer.

“I believe it’s quite a job huh?”

This man believed that either way I took this job being incompetent or he tried to start a conversation. Either way I didn’t like how he started.

“Job is ok. People are the tricky one”

His silence provided a momentary relief, causing my tense body to ease. Soon after, someone came to my vision.

A blonde-haired woman enveloped Joris in a warm hug, and the sound of French language resonated in the air. Despite my understanding of French, I chose to keep to myself.

“He’s really put it on a whole new level”

Words stopped at my level, their bodies facing mine.

“Yes, this is YN”

Seeing her face, I smiled. I had a break from work, and I preferred not to spend it with people I don't know.

“I’m not surprised though. I’m Carla”

We shook hands but my mind was elsewhere. Her choice of words got my attention. ''What do you mean by that?''

I was told curious creatures get killed fast. I am okay with that. Joris expression fell and my curiosity grew. On the other hand, Carla showed us white teeth. She was giving me the vibe she could sleep like a baby even after spilling everyone's secrets.

“He is focusing on career now, doing a decent work like tidying his room is a distraction for him I suppose”

Laughter filled the space and the way she proceeded those words made me question everything. It was clear that she was his friend, and her disapproval of his decision to hire a personal assistant inclined me to be drawn to her side and trust her perspective. Bad feeling about Charles was not a coincidence.

Legs swept me elsewhere still on the territory of the Ferrari background but as I got consumed by thinking about everything and nothing, I lost the track where I was heading. The lighting changed, and the once resounding sounds of engines and formulas on the track dissipated. A metal door ahead beckoned me, and without overthinking, I reached for the knob, immediately sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Before me stood an elegant kitchen counter and a man donned in a Ferrari shirt. As our eyes met, I instinctively moved to offer an apology, feeling as though my legs were already propelling me towards the exit. However, he was quicker in his response. His warm smile welcomed me and I looked at his wrinkles around the eyes. He could be in his forties and Italian.

''Ciao''

Shyness enveloped me as it displayed on my scrunched eyebrows and crooked lips. I greeted him back.

''I am Andrea''

As the doors finally closed, my hands released their grip on the cold metal beneath my fingertips. ''I'm YN. Sorry If I disturbed you''

His laugher filled the space as If I told him the most hilarious joke ever and he closed the distance while still keeping his spirit up. His arms enveloped me in a warm hug, creating a sensation akin to being in a cozy room illuminated by flickering candles. Indeed, this guy exuded the comforting ambiance of a room bathed in candlelight.

I put the dots together. He is the personal trainer of Charles. He sent me reports about expanses on stuff for Charles's training. For the first time this day, laugh left my lips as this situation seemed so embarrassing to me, but to keep it fair, I haven't encountered any familiar faces since my interview and I got my feet on the Singapore land just today. But I felt immense gratefulness for Andrea. Mind note: I have to buy him candles sometimes. My stomach seemed to have a mind of its own as it growled, and we both erupted in laughter.

''Oh my, let me make you something''

My eyes felt like they were on the verge of falling out, and I fully embraced the mode of sabotaging the mission he had so earnestly accepted. He shook me with more laughing telling me to relax. I stopped harassing him and hopped on the barstool.

''Thank you, but you really don't have to do that'' He kept quiet with a warm smile on his face as his hands worked the magic. I didn't know what he was making, he could poison me for all I care. I did not. My soul hasn't felt this warm since I have flown through the air gate to Singapore. And it is a lot to say when it is a living hell outside there.

''I believe you’re not used to long flights''

I hummed in response and engaged him about my flight. I wanted to keep it short, but my monologue ended with details and meeting with Charles. He furrowed his eyebrows listening to me while fiddling something on the frying pan. Yep, he could easily poison me if he wanted to.

''That surprises me, Charles is always like a sunshine''

First Carla, now Andrea. As if written on a secret paper known only to few, they were describing Charles differently than I have experienced him to be making my head spin. But as long as I keep receiving money so I can leave this job and start the life I want, then I am fine not being included to this 'crew'.

''I noticed how Charles has changed his approach towards career now,'' lingered in not so approving way and I couldn't hold back anymore.

''Change of approach?''

He nodded and I cursed myself for keeping the question short. Just when I accepted the end of discussion, he put the food on a clean plate and continued.

''He's really hard on himself. He has two brothers and lost a father.''

Words hit me like a rock bottom and my breath got stuck for a second. The sound of plate landing on the counter and the smell of the food freed me from my momentary mental drift. Clearing my throat facing the warm smile.

''I knew he has brothers, but didn't know he is the oldest one''

Andrea shook his head immediately placing the utensils next to the plate.

''He is not. He is the middle child, but Charles is just Charles.''

I understood his words and took my focus on the food in front of me. My stomach responded in gratefulness as the egg omelette was filling its smell to my nostrils. Taking a bite resolved in an appreciative moan as Andrea laughed at my reaction, but his smile slowly faded away as I sensed another presence behind my back. I turned my torso with full mouth of the omelette to see Charles in his gear.

The first upper half of the gear was open, hanging itself on the sides of hips showing the fireproof underneath, displaying his toned chest. Red really suited him. Charles had this lazy look in his eyes shooting through my skull telling me something encrypted in a highly sensual manner and as I become aware I'm no longer chewing, I took off my eyes from him to the plate again.

The food sliding down had a hard time doing so and I shifted my focus to Andrea to thank him. Charles moved like a ghost behind Andrea and pulling out the water from the cabinet. Italian language filled the room and I prayed for having the food eaten already.

I found out Andrea was telling the truth; he was like a sunshine.His dimples were on full display, and his delightful chuckle echoed, sounding like a melody to my ears. I didn't wanna melt here on the barstool so I ate like a daredevil. When Andrea noticed me finishing, he reached for the plate.

''Don't worry about it, I wash it''

Frozen on the spot, he took the plate with a polite smile and I thanked him for it. I couldn't help myself looking away from Charles. He was eyeing me while taking a sip of his bottle. Sweat on his forehead made his longer hair stick to the skin in a delicious matter and I felt my knees to buckle soon. Shifting from warm to cold to hot in a second wasn't good for my heart. I excused myself and went anywhere but there.

Two days have passed and the only conversation I had with Charles were short sentences about work. He finished forth in yesterday's race resolving his mood to worsen. I overheard how critical he can be towards himself.

I was shocked how mean he was and upset about forth place out of twenty. But we are separate individuals with different dreams, If I had lost a small amount of money resolving in postponing my leaving and pursuing my dream life, I would be mad as the weather in Singapore is.

Charles told me he doesn't need me for the rest of the evening so I had practically a time off preparing for tomorrow's flight.

#charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you

[exlibrisseverus]

work in progress

I’ve been working on this drawing, sleep-deprived and with many cups of coffee. Was not in the best mood but had a good work flow. But then it happened, the nib of my Apple Pen broke off as I accidentally dropped it to the ground. I was so mad… I’ve tried to continue drawing on the ipad, with my fingers, almost had an inner meltdown of frustration. Went to the gym to compose myself, didn’t helped much, was still angry with myself.

Much later I remembered that i still have my old rusty tiny little wacom bamboo tablet. Well it’s not the perfect condition but better than nothing. Feeling myself motivated again to continue.

-> Oh and the ironic thing with this is that I’ve been imagining scenarios where students in the HP universe break their wands on accident or through clumsiness, finding it funny, giggling to myself. I was kinda like: “Oh yeah, that silly moment when Ron broke his wand, lol” Until my clumsy, sleep-deprived ass accidentally breaks it’s own

“muggle artist wand” (aka apple pen).

RIP comrade 💐 🪦 🫡

P.S: Thank you guys!

I would like to thank you very much for your kind words. I’m quite overwhelmed, I haven’t expected to receive so much kindness and encouragement.

To be honest, being an HP fan was something I did quietly, mostly in private for myself, brooding over my art and headcanons, collecting merch. There were hardly any people around me with the same interest in HP, and I also was too reserved to look around online any further. This is the first time I'm starting to interact more directly with other HP enthusiasts.

I’m very touched that other people showed interest in my art.

Drawing Sev is for me all about expressing my love towards him and i try to do him justice by portraying him in such a way that he feels real to me. And also that it makes me happy when I look at the drawing later.

I wanted to end by saying that I'm relaxed about ships, I don't reject anyone based of their fandom preferences or OCs. I also have my own OC, of course. I’m cool with almost everything as long i can see Sev. Especially when i can see this beautiful overgrown bat.

Really, thank you from the bottom of my heart for the support. Hugs and thanks for reading. 💋

(editor me: by Merlin, that bisch wrote an entire novel lol)

#art wip #wip #digital sketch #severus snape #my art

[threadsun]

Ohh! But wat if! like! the cult au Y/N had the biggest 'burned out ex child actor who was dragged into this' energy?

Like they once adored the stage as a child. It greatly helped them get over the sadness of moving away from their childhood home. It was always fun to get lost in a character, in a role, with the effort you put in, the praise they recieved from their teachers and peers was it's own reward. And with small roles at their local theater, they had their fun well into adulthood before "retiring" for good in pursuit of a job that could help pay for things arounnd around them.

But then they recieved the news from their frantic mom/parent, and really only came to this town out of moral obligation, and morbid curiosity.

No use puttin mom/other parent in danger. But this place is soo behind in ...well...a bunch of things. Guess they can put this new title to good use, and see if they can suggest some changes to make a nice walkable community, in a more, modern town.

Hell maybe something even better, with solar panels on every building, and carbon neutral packaging! The God wouldnt care about the Millennials' Solarpunk Socialist reality if its in a bumfuck town in the middle of nowhere, right?? And maybe a modified iPad for the new Savior...right????

Oh but of course everything's tinted with this 'Prophet Savior' nonsense. And ofc YN rolls their eyes at first and plays along, 'oh yes my magical powers said that...God said...that installing a bike lane would be soo cool and maybe some...Non-cult edited renditions of some magazines to read while I take a shit in my new bathroom would be cool too~'

It's nice to be doted on, and a bit amusing, by handsome boys and friendly townsfolk alike, so of course you agree to attend a special church sermon as the guest of honor. Hey! You can see some of your new "friends" in the crowd, Nick, Shaun, Ian, Jean--Bo's even here up on stage with them too! but he seems to be ina mood, maybe you'll talk to him after this silly ceremonial thing.

And then someone is brought from the crowd. The person confess their sins and it's a bit personal, and uncomfortable..but they just shift in their seat and play their role well. They can't even remember the words that leave their lips, fully expecting to sprinkle water on this person's forehead and all would be forgiven.... right?

It's kind of hard to remember anything else once Bo rips their throat out.

Between the shock as several beats of silence pass, and the horrified throat wrenching scream from them, I don't think YN remembers much after that, waking up in the founder's house surrounded by their concerned new "harem" of housemates

And YN, having had years of practice, schools their expression as best they can, even as their blood runs cold beneath their skin and their knuckles bleed white as they clench the bedsheet to avoid from lurching away from the hands of those tending to them. Like being cornered by wild animals.

Bo stands off to the side, more guilty for having offended them in some way than he was for the person he murdered in cold blood. Jean tsks slightly and says they all should've better prepared them instead honestly.

I don't think YN would remember the next few days as they're coddled and tended to, their panic rising as the reality settles in that this is a Cult..a Genuine, Bonafide Cult, and like a fool, they walked right to death's door.

They should've listened to their mom/other parent and ran.But they didn't. And now they're tended to gingerly by a cluster of different strangers daily, and a loyal gaurd dog who growls a warning at the overly friendly. It once made them snicker but now makes them stumble at the sight of his sharp teeth once coated in the blood of another.

They're paraded around town, casting flickering glances to Barry every once and a while, who follows behind the group like a shadow during their .."recovery" period...who sports a knowing look, and a small smile. They know there's nothing they can do to escape this hell.The longer they stay, the worse it gets.

This sleepy little town full of flower gardens and bordered by thick Woodlands, both kept rich and vibrant by the corpses that thrive in its soil.The casual demeanors of those who remain unaffected and blissful despite knowing so.Those that chatter excitedly about what new prophecies YN had in store next sermon.

The sinking gut-wrenching feeling that these peaceful town folk wouldn't bat an eye at murdering a false prophet, and if they are to survive, they have to play their role with efficiency.

It doesn't take much really, just keep constructing new things, and living a care-free life with your new lovers, and communing with a God you once didnt believe in.

well, that is until the 10th day, when it started to whisper things into their head at the dead of night. Laughing coldly at their attempts to rake their nails through the flesh of their scalp, to prevent themself from bashing their head in. As the ones who surround them, celebrate it, when they plea for help.

Smother the fear, smother the exhaustion, smother the feeling that you may be losing your mind, and maybe it won't even feel like pretending

____________

I apologize for any mistakes Im two steps away from falling asleep, but i hope it wasnt too out of character, cult nonny! I honestly even believed it was supposed to be an open ended question to both you and threadsun but i think i got a bit carried away, sorry! I'd love to hear u guys' thoughts!

🌌🐹

Ooooooh idk about Cult Anon but I definitely think the idea of the founder's child going along with things and not taking it seriously until Something Happens is definitely interesting!

#sunshine #🌌🐹 #I'd love to hear cult anons thoughts!

[cristellove4321]

I was a star palace fan for awhile, ever sense I had graduated high school last i checked, I think it was near graduation when i heard zavys first voice over when it comes to singing, so when i heard about a star palace video game, no typos or anything, you bet i was bouncing off the walls when I did hear about it, you better believe I would've pulled a pinkie pie and bounce off the walls if I could, and downloaded it the moment it was out, on my ipad tho cuz my phone never had enough space, I'll get to that later tho...

When it finished downloading, I played it instantly, and began playing, it reminded me of a game from mlp where with the characters they have gift preferences, compliment preferences, and description box's, and so forth, I didn't mind tho, it was simple for my end on how to work with, and hense its more fun for me, as I continued playing, and that lasted for awhile, zavy was the most I payed attention to, obviously being the main and favorite from the series and fandom itself, it doesn't take much to make him your friend, only the "best friend" part was more of a second bar for him, for whatever reason, unlike with other characters you oftenly meet, his had a "partner" added to his bar, I didnt necessarily minded that, given he was built by a company that specializes in making companion bots, so I thought it was normal when like that, and when I got him at "partner", hearts will come out from his image and flutter out of camera's sight whenever you either tap on him or give him one of his preferred gifts, that was normal until I got a verbal fight with my dad, I don't handle stress alot so when I got to my room I began crying, so after a little mental break down I played star palace to try and calm down, I met the other characters and all of them acted normal, and by then I stopped crying, just really tired, but when I got to zavy, his image was slightly different, it was his upset or sad face witch only happens when you give him a rotten gift, but his image wasn't the speech bubble with it, hense making him say.", you look exhausted dear, what happened?", this confused me, normally the characters can't tell what you look like or what your expression is, it also gave me the option to actually type my response, again, it's something you cant be able to do, and I can't click out neither to try and ignore that, cuz I'm honestly not good at expressing my actual emotions, so sense I can't click out I just typed in "I'm fine zavy, really, just a lil tired", and than suddenly I passed out, i tried fighting it and saw the text box while zavy deemed to smile yet still looked concerned, the text box saying "oh?, well ok then, maybe try taking a nap then?, here I'll help you dear!", and than next thing i knew, I was passed out, waking up slowly when it was near night time, I wondered on how I could've slept for so long when I passed out somewhere near the morning, I sat up and rubbed my head and decided to check my phone to check what time it is, before finding millions of downloads with the symbol when you download an image, I panicked and checked my storage, the thing I mentioned earlier, only for it to look normal, i got confused and checked my gallary, only for the files on zavys folders to have the infinity sign, I checked it and it was images like the ones I'm gonna show you now, I know these images, frazzybear, a fan of zavy, drew some of these, and if it wasn't her, it was moon bunnies or gknight them self, but their distorted to a semi creepy level, my phone rings like crazy, but it wasn't the usual ring tone galaxy Samsung would have, aka my phone type, it was...., zavys version of "meant to be yours", a public song on YouTube, this ahook me violently before i answered it, and it only said.

"I'm at the door my love..., let...., me...., in...."

(This is just a lil creepy pasta of star palace, I think this would be fun, you can say how bad it was, say that it most likely is the worst or such, but I won't really care, cuz I actually had fun writing this and appreciate those who like it, but really, the original importance of writing is how fun it is, that along with actual criticism without roasting or hate, is how we grow as writers and hense not only make better creepypasta's, but also make better stories all together, the edited images are by frazzybear, gknight and moon bunnies, I heavily suggest checking them out, their content is awesome and the characters are just as adorable.)

(Inspiration: friendship quest by: TheLostNarrator.)

(Sorry to credit the inspiration before hand.:>)

#star palace #zavy #creepypasta

[branch-wdk53]

Freaky Friday script, bc my iPad decided to go kaput

Sobin: BLINK MOTHERFUCKER!

Rein: Oh… I seemed to have gotten my answer.

Rein: Excuse me, I must intrude about now.

Sobin: There you are Ryn!! Now, can you tell me why Mei is acting off?

Rein: …I have an idea. Have you looked at a mirror as of recently?

Sobin: What, no? Why would I?

Rein: Ah, it’s just… it seems like an interesting situation has occurred, and I only wanted to confirm that this isn’t a dream.

Sobin: Why dafuq are you speaking so flowery? You aren’t Reinhardt…

Rein: …That’s the issue. Are you perchance… Sobin?

Sobin: Duh? Why wouldn’t I be- hey wait, this isn’t my Hornet EGO…

Rein: Now… Mei… I would like to ask, are you Sanchez, Mahason or Gom?

Mahason: …Mahason.

Sobin: WHAT?! Why didn’t you just say that?!

Mahason: …

Rein: Well, you see. Mahason here isn’t much of a speaker. Of course, the similarity applies to Sanchez and Gom, but Mahason is a bit more… focused, at least as far as I can tell with his expression. But I just wanted to make sure.

Sobin: You could’ve just said I was being dumb.

Rein: Ah, I don’t think that’s necessary…

Sobin: …Wait a second…waitwaitwait- did I have Summer’s left eye open this whole time?!

Rein: …Indeed.

Mahason: …

Sobin: …You two. You better not speak a word about this, or I’ll cave both of your skulls in.

Rein: I wasn’t planning to. It’s not my place to question people’s personal lives.

*Mahason does that motion where you zip up your mouth and throw away the imaginary key.*

Rein: See? That wasn’t too hard. Maybe next time, should something like this occur, you could use less threats.

Rein: In any case, I would like to request something for you two. It’s clear that our minds are currently inhabiting another’s body. Now, my thought is… Are perhaps the original host of these bodies in our bodies now? Such as Ryn being in mine, and Mei is in Mahason’s?

Rein: I would like to check on the others, so if you could, secure your original bodies. If it turns out everyone is randomized, then… that'll be a big problem.

Mahason: Understood.

Sobin: Okay but- hey, wait, Mahason! Wait for me!!

Rein: Heh.

*Reinhardt walks to Information.*

Rein: Hello, I’m just-

*Scene of Juliet and Ramirez fighting.*

Swapped: Johnson -> Asuka, Juliet-> Ramirez, Ramirez -> Juliet

Johnson: Oh, Ryn. Your vibes seems off, did you get body swapped too?

Rein: Ah, indeed… Reinhardt here.

Johnson: Oof man. Well anyway, could you help us out here? Juliet is beating up Ramirez ‘cuz he thinks they caused this, and won’t listen to us~

Rein: Of course.

*Reinhardt goes over and picks up both of them by the scruff.*

Rein: Now now, you two. It’s better if we use our words than our fists. You wouldn’t want to damage your bodies, now would we?

Juliet: Wh- Ryn?!

Rein: Reinhardt here. Seems like everyone has been body swapped. So please, let’s pause any quarrels until we can get this sorted out.

Juliet: Oh- Oh, okay.

*Reinhardt sets them down, Juliet being confused and Ramirez patting themself.*

Ramirez: Phew! Thanks for the save, Sir Reinhardt!

Rein: Mhm. Juliet, you’ve must’ve passed by Mason and Asera. What is their status?

Juliet: What? Oh- uh, Asera seemed to be fine, while Mason looked more nervous.

Rein: Hm. That’s strange, in regards to Asera… I’ll keep that in mind. At least, it seems like our bodies were simply swapped and not randomized, as evident by Juliet and Ramirez here.

Ramirez: Oooooo, you think we’re gonna be stuck like this?

Rein: Highly unlikely. The Director, once he notices, will probably do something. But given that today is a self-study day… he’s unlikely to pay attention currently.

Juliet: That’s frustrating…

Rein: Indeed. Now, if you excuse me. I’m checking up on everyone else. Could I entrust you all to check on the Control Team and report to me?

Johnson: Yep~ I’ll try my best to make sure these two won’t fight~

Juliet: H-Hey…!

Rein: Thank you for the assistance.

*He goes down the elevator into Central Command.*

Swapped: Acacia -> Yoonjae, Micaela -> Neville, Neville -> Micaela

Rein: Helloo, Central Command teams…?

Acacia: We’re here~ At least for the most part. Seeing how you came down here…

Rein: The body swaps going on? It seems to apply to the entire facility.

Acacia: Mhm. I did see what presumably was Mei and Summer rushing through here towards Welfare.

Neville: Augh… Feels weird to not be tired.

Micaela: Eheh… and it’s strange to feel this tired.

Micaela: Though, I didn’t know you had this many scars-

Neville: Shhhshsh. While you may feel them, you’ll certainly be disgusted by the sight of them.

Micaela: O-Oh? Sorry, I was just…

Neville: Just think of it as a heads up. Keep a steady mood.

Rein: (Huh. I guess we’re similar in that prospect.)

Acacia: Hm~ Reinhardt, you have somewhere to be, yeah? You should get going, I’ll take care of things here.

Rein: Yes, but… I didn’t mention that I was Reinhardt…?

Acacia: I took a guess.

Rein: I see, supposedly… Excuse me then.

*Reinhardt enters into Welfare.*

I was gonna have more, but iPad going unresponsive killed my motivation .<.

#april fools.freaky friday #writing.logs

[essenx]

Elastic hearts - Chapter One

Chapter One

   She saw him standing on the balcony. All the Male alpha vibe, tall, strong, cold and dark... there’s nothing on him that screamed nor whispered a safe place for a broken soul but she fell never the less.

    It could be something about her gawking and drooling that made the guy look her way and we can’t even call it a look but a killer gaze. Even though it was just for a split second, he was the predator and she was just a teeny tiny helpless calculative prey living somebody else’s life and she could honestly swear that he saw it all in her. Her true self. He saw through her.

     She couldn’t believe her eyes and luck that night when he raised his glass in a silent toast and she couldn’t help the blush covering her face and ears. He got her. She knew and he knew it better.

     She couldn’t remember her mission that night, no, not after meeting him. She tried and tried in every way possible to get him for herself even if it would last for a second. He just had to hold her and all will be well.

     In a room where everything is dark with the only thing visible being her desperation and his glistening married band on his finger. She was ecstatic. Don’t get her wrong, she never wanted his love, hated the idea of romance... who needs the warmth when you can have a furnace building inside you just waiting to explode?.

     “Hush...!" She heard the man warn her amidst the pain and pleasure he was giving it to her,  a dangerous combo that he seemed to be pro at balancing. Never had she found a man worth her body and time like that day. He didn’t desire her nor was he gentle towards her. He took her for a chore and she liked it.

    Racing her to the edge only to denying her of the thrill. Driving her insane, making her mad as hell.

     “You are being a burden, darling...” Said the man sprawling her on the hard surface, she hoped was a table... All naked and sticky with her juices flowing from her holes while he was fully dressed. Smart to the T, leisurely smoking his cigar and pouring himself a glass of something she thought to be alcohol.

     She couldn’t have anticipated the coldness of the liquor glass touching her wet exposed cunt but her quivering  senses told her of how much she liked it and his mocking laughter satisfied her more.

     “Now, I get why the VC was sweating so much... you were eye fucking him" Said Nicole throwing the iPad on Gina’s lap.

    “Eew, pure disgust. Ick!” Said Maria emotionless standing up to get herself a glass of water when they heard Gina’s none apologising comment,“He’s just fine as hell..., it so ain’t my fault"

     “You know that he’s married, right?” Said Nicky with all seriousness she could come up with. “He said that like four times in a minute"

     “Do you think that’s just to remind himself or he was trying to remember the reason he got married in the first place?” Asked Gina curiously.

  “You didn’t think that he was kindly rejecting your aggressive advances, did you?” Nicky had to ask out loud.

   “Only if you think if he could resist all of this"

   “You are evil" Commented Maria placing down the glass looking at Gina as she walked to her room but, stopped midway the corridor to the room opposite hers. “Oh, that’s just me without the filters and if I may ask... why is this room open?”

      “Oh, I was waiting for the roommate to arrive and give you guys the happy surprise but....” Nicky trailed off when she saw just how much their faces were saying.

       “Are you finally admitting that you are sloppy in the surprising department?” Asked Maria sweetly with an amused expression

      “I just got caught up in that orientation thing” Excused Nicky in defense

    “So who’s this new family member?” Asked Gina looking at Nicky pointedly.

    “I hope I know" Replied Nicky with a sigh

     “You don’t know anything about them?” Asked Maria, alarmed. She hated things like that.

     “I regret renting here” Said Maria closing her bedroom door only to come back again with a laundry basket, “She could be a fugitive for all I know"

    But, before anyone can do anything the door bell rang and they all knew who it was but, just didn’t know exactly who.

#Friendship #Dreams #Trauma #Romance #Family

[vanilladaises-rp]

Tattoo Artist!Jungkook-🖕🏻:

"I give you the option to do something, surprise me.", I chuckled softly behind my hand as I followed him to the private room to get tattooed on and looking around curiously at the designs on the wall. My attention was brought back to him as I sat down on the chair in front of him to look over at the design together one last time. "Oh this is beautiful, how did you do the shadows around the stems? I have the same program on my tablet and I have to do that manually for the same designs over and over again.", I asked him out of curiosity as I nodded along with him in interest as I did small changes and adding something to the initial design without making it too bulky or the background swallowing up the design and lose the main focus: The lilies. "I don't have anything that needs changing, we can start right away.", I announced after a few minutes and laying down on the tattoo chair to show off my underarm so that he can put the design on smoothly. I did take out a stress ball, just in case he is going to hit my bone as they tend to be the most painful ones.

Jungkook had a smile on his face surprisingly, which never happens especially with customers, he shamed himself for thinking you were "just another cute girl trying to hook up" which was most of his female clients, and well him being the bad boy he is, he doesn't hate the attention, but can get exhausted from it, " I just used this tool" he explained opening one of the tabs to show you "You do? Hmm so you know your stuff, are you an artist?" He asked interested, this once shitty day was turning around for him surprisingly. Jungkook couldn't help but have a smug but proud expression on his face seeing you make the adjustments, usually he doesn't let anyone touch his ipad but watching you work was attractive to him, the was you maneuvered the program like a pro made him more interested in you, "Hmm I liked mine better but okay" He teased before getting the stencil ready. It only took him a very more minutes for him to place the stencil on, get the ink and his gun prepared, and now, he was finally ready "Okay you can let me know if it hurts but I still won't stop" He smirked at you before starting.

#jeon jungkook #🖕🏻

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE TWENTY TWO || THE ORIGIN OF BLIND OBEDIENCE

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + nitta akari from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of violence + mention of suicide + mention of dangerous acts + mention of killing + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 04 may

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 7.2k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : jamais vu

↳ next episode : the origin of blind obedience 2 

↳ barista’s notes : let me admit...this ain’t my best piece of work, but i hope you all enjoy this episode of the series and good night everyone ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’.

there was one going to be mention but...let’s keep that a secret for now...

2.5. for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique : hopefully this video is slightly better...

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“Kanada Taichi in Morioka, in June. Shimada Osamu in Yokohama, in August. Yamato Hiroshi in Nagoya, in September. These three died in similar circumstances. They were stabbed to death by a cursed spirit at the entrances to their apartments and all of them had filed the same complaint with the property managers several weeks before dying. They claimed their auto-locking doors were left wide open. None of the other residents have any idea what could have happened,” Nitta (your current driver) explained, causing you to open your eyes slowly, letting your drowsiness fade away slowly.

Currently, at this moment in time, you and your classmates were being driven to your desired destination to your current mission that all four of you were set causing you to wonder how much longer the drive was going to be, but also how you were going to cope with dealing with the whole ordeal since it had been a while since you had gone on a mission dealing with the unknown - last time was over two months ago at the detention centre where you had to face Sukuna (a special grade curse).

“None of the dates or locations match, though. Could the same cursed spirit have killed them all?” Fushiguro questioned as he stared down at the Ipad he had in his hands while trying to read all the information that was provided.

‘There is one location they all have in common though’ you thought, as you turned your head to stare out of the window, recalling the time where you had read the same information on your phone during breakfast with your adoptive father, Gojo Satoru.

“Hey, could the cursed spirit be responsible for the doors? Do sensors like those pick up cursed spirits? They don’t show up on camera and stuff, right?” Itadori began to ask an abundance of questions causing you to internally giggle as some of the questions he asked were basic knowledge for jujutsu sorcerers, but it was adorable for him to try to find a solution.

“Apparently, the cursed spirit made the door operators go crazy, not the sensors,” Nitta answered, leading you to give a side-eye to indicate that you were listening to her before going back to peer at the window to figure out a solution of your own about the current situation.

“Oh...Operators?” Itadori muttered in confusion as he tilted his head slightly to the side.

“And as for whether or not the same cursed spirit was behind this...Well, we couldn’t be certain from just the residuals. After all, a lot of time had already passed. So we tried to track down any connections between the three, we found that all three attended the same middle school for two years,” Nitta mentioned causing you to stiffen up slightly on the information given to you.

“Meaning all three received the same curse, and it activated after time had passed?” Kugisaki suggested with a thinking gesture causing Itadori to make a noise of impressiveness before leaning forward to view the female sorcerer.

“Precisely. That’s highly likely. So we’re going to that middle school now to question someone the three victims all knew, and I want you four to see what you can find as sorcerers,” Nitta answered leading you to sigh (to which she slyly notices) before you processed to close your eyes as if you were going to nap for a bit.

“Way to go, Kugisaki!” Itadori mentioned in astonishment leading the mentioned sorcerer to flick her hair back.

“Heh. What’d you expect?” Kugisaki questioned smugly.

However, without the attention of all three of you, Fushiguro seemed to be annoyed as he leaned his head back onto the chair seats before letting out a sigh of his own, wondering how he was going to handle this situation now.

                                              ꕥ

“A funeral?” Itadori questioned, as you processed to exit out of the car leading you to see a few people wearing all black, entering into a building before shutting the door quietly to not disturb the mourners that were attending the disheartening event.

“Is this the home of that acquaintance?” Kugisaki asked as she was also looking at the darkening event that was happening.

“Yes, it is…” NItta answered in a stutter leading everyone to get back in the car since there was no possible way, all of you could even interview someone properly during this time since it would be considered extremely rude.

                                               ꕥ

“Well, this sucks. He dies the same way the other three did. He lived with his family, so there was no auto-locking door, but he was killed in front of the entrance. Previously, upon returning home alone, he reported, “The door was unlocked, but it wouldn’t open,” to his family members,” Nitta explained, as you processed to scan through all the documents through your phone trying to obtain some sort of connection between all the victims rather than the middle school that they attended to.

‘Date of birth 1983-1984...that means they were in middle school at around 1995-1998...Yasohachi Bridge was popular back then, right?’

Suddenly, the car had come to a sudden halt causing you to look up from your phone, only to discover that you had arrived at the location that Nitta had discussed to everyone at the beginning leading you to look up that the building from the side of your window before slowly letting out a breath as you processed to open the car door to go and investigate with the others.

“I asked his parents, too, but they said they didn’t know what relationship he had with the other three. Man, there goes our only lead!” Nitta whined loudly, as everyone began to enter the school premises causing you to halt for a second before you continued to stroll behind them, trying to make sure your classmates didn’t notice your fidgeting behaviour.

“Don’t worry! There has to be something at this middle school!” Itadori reassured Nitta as she looked disappointed with her head hanging low.

“I sure hope so. For now, I’ve secured an appointment with a teacher, so I’m counting on you,” Nitta replied with a disheartened tone.

“Roger,” Itadori replied with a determined smile.

Suddenly, Kugisaki (who had her hands behind her head in the beginning) unexpectedly had a mischievous smile painted on her face before quickly running off to the side causing you to look at her with a raised eyebrow as you wondered what she was planning on doing.

“There’s some obvious punks, let’s beat’em up and set’em straight!” Kugisaki suggested causing you to walk up to her with your hand raised since she was going completely off-topic with what everyone was supposed to do currently.

“Why?” Itadori asked in a confused tone.

Slowly, the two punks that Kugisaki mentioned began to straightening up with menacing looks on their face, leading Itadori to lean forward to observe the two, only for them to suddenly straighten up more in sudden fear, causing you to be somewhat confused on why there was a sudden change in expression, only for your eyes to follow what they were looking at.

“I-It’s good to see you!” the pucks shouted while processing to bow 90 degrees with their heads lowered causing you to turn back to them with widened eyes at what was going on.

“Heh, look at that. You actually get it,” Kugisaki stated with a smug look on her face causing you to give her a fed-up look towards her direction while trying to figure out why Itadori was joining in her shenanigans.

“An aura just pours out, even if you try to hide it,” Itadori mentioned as he pushed his hair back leading you to ignore both of your classmates and you processed to look around the school trying to find some clues while noticing slight hints of cursed energy roaming around the premises.

“We haven’t seen you since graduation, Fushiguro-san!” one of the punks mentioned, causing the two smug sorcerers to drop their act before quickly turning around to see Fushiguro, who was now looking to the side in embarrassment.

“I...went here...for middle school,” Fushiguro announced before turning his back to face behind him to avoid his classmates, only for them to violently grab his face as they tried to make his turn to face them.

“That’s a surprise, too, but that’s not the point! Look at me!” Kugisaki angrily demanded, as she forcibly turned Fushiguro’s face to look at her with a struggle as Itadori had a hold of the shikigami sorcerer’s head to make it face him.

“What’d you do?! What did you do in middle school?! No, it would be quicker to ask them!” Itadori mentioned in a panic, as he was desperate to find an answer.

“Hey, Idiot A and Idiot B! What did this guy do to you?” Kugisaki yelled out her question, while still having a hold on Fushiguro’s face.

“We...Or rather, every delinquent, gang member, and so on in this area got beaten up by Fushiguro-san,” one of the punks answered, as both of them lifted their heads leading both Itadori and Kugisaki to let go of their friend’s face in shock before turning back to face him in confusion, looking for answers.

“I beat them up,” Fushiguro muttered as he turned his head back with his now messed up hair, leading Itadori and Kugisaki to grab his face again in complete surprise.

“Why do you keep talking so stiffly?! Look at me!” Kugisaki angrily asked as she painfully turned Fushiguro’s face to look at her.

“What are you doing?! Hey! What are you doing?!” Itadori asked in a panic, once again, as he now turned Fushiguro’s head to face him.

“Wow~ you beat up people Fushiguro, what a drag~” you commented with a hand over your mouth leading the erratic-haired sorcerer to look to you for help only for you to turn away to observe the school’s premises again, trying to gain something for the mission at hand.

“Hey!” someone shouted, causing both of the sorcerers to let go of Fushiguro’s face which led his hair to bounce a bit. Turning around to face the front, you noticed an old man with glasses running up towards you guys leading your eyes to widen once you had gotten a good look at who was coming towards everyone.

“Who are you? Students from other schools aren’t allowed in here!” the old man stated with a loud tone.

“And who the hell are you?!” Kugisaki yelled back in anger, causing you to smack the back of her head as if to tell her to ‘shut up’ which caused her to look up at you with a pout as she held her head to soothe the pain away.

“He’s clearly a staff member. Why are you so combative?” Itadori questioned in a low tone as he began to slouch.

“We have permission to be here,’ Nitta informed the staff member while processing to show the pass that she was carrying leading the old man to adjust his glasses as he peered at the pass she was currently holding.

“Oh, you’re the ones? You’re all young, you need to hang your pass around your neck,” the old man mentioned as began to observe the group of students behind her before his eyes widened once they handed on a certain someone. 

“Fushiguro-kun?” 

“Hello,” Fushiguro greeted, as he looked to the side with a small blush beginning to appear on his face.

“He remembers you!” Itadori and Kugisaki mentioned in a teasing tone as they looked at their classmate with an amused look.

“So this man’s been here a long time?” NItta asked with a cheerful tone, leading you to conclude that she probably had gained hope for a new lead on the mission that was happening right now.

“Probably, Takeda-san’s a permanent employee,” Fushiguro answered in a monotone voice.

“Then I leave the rest to you!” Nitta concluded, to which she held a thumbs up as if it was some sort of encouragement.

‘Abandoning her duty....’ Fushiguro thought, before shifting his eyes towards you as he realised that you had become quiet again, only to discover that you were looking at Takeda with some sort of fondness in your eyes as a small but noticeable smile appeared on your face.

‘It’s been a while, hasn’t it Takeda-san? How are you? You’ve been okay? I wish I could ask you this..but...it’s for the best that I didn’t at all huh?’ you thought before turning your head to look at the windows beside you, only to realise that the same hint of cursed energy was still lingering around.

‘I’m surprised it remains here…’ you mentioned internally before turning back to look at the staff member in front of you.

                                              ꕥ

“Kanada, Shimada, Yamato...and Morishita, huh? I was shocked by their passing, but I guess it’s been nearly twenty years since they graduated, I remember it like it was yesterday. They were problem children in their own right, though not as bad as you. What do you want to know?” Takeda mentioned with a soft smile causing you to scoff a bit at his comment as you covered your mouth to hold your laugh but to Fushiguro’s annoyance.

“Strange rumours, dark rumours, connections to bad adults…” Fushiguro listed as he raised his arm, leading you to look at him weirdly since it wasn’t the arm towards your side he had lifted.

“Hey, problem child!” Itadori and Kugisaki chanted in a teasing tone.

“...and anything of ill omen,” Fushiguro concluded before closing his hand into a fist as he proceeded to swing it down to punch the top of Itadori’s head.

“Dark rumours? They may have been problem children, but they never went beyond average middle school stuff. But wait...ill omen?” Takeda muttered as he began to think.

“Do you mean that tale? About the Yasohachi Bridge bungee jumping?” one of the punks questioned, causing you to look to the side in interest since you had an idea about the bridge before you had arrived at the middle school.

“You’re still here, A and B?” Kugisaki asked since she was surprised that they remained where they were.

“Yasohachi Bridge?” Itadori questioned.

“A notorious suicide spot, it’s well known in this area as a haunted location,” you answered in a casual tone before explaining why it was such an important detail to note for your pink-haired classmate.

“Oh, that’s right! Back then, it was all the rage among delinquents to bungee jump off Yasohachi Bridge late at night, it was one of those tests of courage,” Takeda explained, once he remembered what he was trying to think of.

“What a weird tribe,” Kugisaki muttered in annoyance.

“What a drag,” you mentioned in a fed-up tone.

“I’m surprised there are people dumber than me!” Itadori stated.

“What do you use for a cord?” Fushiguro questioned as he was trying to wonder how the people bungee jumped in the first place.

“We don’t do it, I just heard some students from our parents’ generation talking about it,” the punk mentioned causing you to nod your head slowly, conveying that you understood what he meant.

“One day, Kanada and the other three were absent without permission. That wasn’t all that usual by itself, but when we contacted their families, we learned that those four hadn’t come home the day before. It caused a pretty big stir, then they were found unconscious under the bridge. They got chewed out good, but all four swore up and down they didn’t remember a thing,” Takeda explained, causing all the first years to come to the same conclusion in their heads.

                                               ꕥ

“I think that’s it,” Nitta suggested as she looked at all four of you.

“I’ve been to Yasohachi Bridge, too,” Fushiguro mentioned in a serious tone.

“To bungee jump?” Itadori asked comedically, leading Fushiguro to swiftly smash a fist on the top of his head in annoyance causing Itadori to wince in pain as he held his head with a pout.

“It’s easy for curses to take root in haunted locations, just like in schools, so people from Jujutsu High regularly patrol it,” Fushiguro explained causing you to recall the times where you would walk around the area late at night while trying to hide from the sorcerers that came from time to time back a few years ago.

“There wasn’t anything unusual at the time, though. It might be a bit famous, but it’s still used as a normal bridge,” Fushiguro mentioned.

“We still have to go check it out, though,” Kugisaki suggested, causing you to agree with her since it was the best for all the four of you to survey the bridge yourselves.

“Fushiguro-kun?” someone called out, causing everyone to turn to find Takeda coming towards everyone’s way.

“Sorry, I was curious about something,” Takeda mentioned causing Fushiguro to fully turn around to face the old man.

“What is it?” Fushiguro asked.

“Tsukimi-kun took awfully good care of you when you were in school. Is she doing well?” the old man asked, causing you to stiffen up slightly before shifting your eyes to the side since you were getting nervous at the fact the staff member was remembering everyone little by little.

“Yes,” Fushiguro answered with a deadpan expression.

“Who’s Tsumiki?” Itadori asked the shikigami user in curiosity.

“My older sister,” Fushiguro answered in a low tone, leading Kugisaki to grab his shoulder in surprise once again.

“What?! You tell us too little about yourself!” Kugisaki mentioned in an annoyed tone leading Itadori to agree with her, leading the old man to tilt his head slightly to the side - to avoid the blockage of Itadori’s body - to discover you making your way to the side of the car, where you were sitting before.

“Excuse me, I also wanted to ask you something if you don’t mind,” Takeda asked in a kind tone, causing you to halt your movements before looking up to find the old man gifting you with a sweet smile that you remembered so much causing you to turn back and make your way towards the staff-member with lessening the tension that you had before walking away.

“Yeah, it’s fine, what is it you want to ask me?” you questioned with a light tone, trying to sound polite to the man, causing him to smile at you.

“Do I remember you from anywhere, you seem quite familiar to me?” Takeda asked, causing your eyes to widen in fear before quickly blinking away the sudden change in emotion you were surprisingly expressing so easily.

“I never been to Saitama Urami East Junior High before, I’m sorry but I don’t think I’m the person you are trying to recall,” you answered with a sad soft smile leading the man to sigh before fixing his glasses.

“Is that so? I’m sorry, the minute I saw you, I began to recall a student that would always help me around from time to time and she was always on top of her work, but she left around the second year before I got to thank her,” the old man began to reminisce, not noticing the stiffness of your body as well as the panic rising within your heart leading it to beat faster than it should.

‘He’s remembering too much, but didn’t I put enough cursed energy into that spell? It should have wiped everything from his memory’

“Sorry, but could you look at my left eye for a second? I think I got an eyelash stuck there,” you quickly asked, causing the old man to agree to help you as he adjusted his glasses once again before taking a good look at your eye.

‘It could cast it now, but the others are here...I could just not use the spell to its full potential and that couldn’t cause him to faint, maybe that will work,’ you quickly thought as you were slowly transferring a small amount of your cursed energy to your left eye.

“Haku-” you muttered under your breath before coming to a sudden halt, causing your cursed energy to waver slightly as it began to slowly move away from your eye leading you to conclude that you didn’t even have the guts to commit to the action that you were planning to go on with like you did two years ago, to which caused your heart to become extremely heavy with guilt as you knew once he entered back into the school, the lingering cursed energy that you had left in the school would cause his memory to fade away, processing you to let go of your sudden plan as the staff-member mentioned that there was nothing to worry about.

‘Nothing to worry about huh?’

“Thank you so much,” you softly said with gratitude before giving the old man a final wave goodbye before entering the car with the rest of your classmates, wondering if it was still for the best that you let him free with his memory gradually coming back to life.

                                              ꕥ

“We’re here. Koi no Kuchi Canyon, Yasohachi Bridge. Once you confirm a cursed spirit’s here, I’ll lower a veil,” Nitta explained as all of the first years processed to get out of the sleek black vehicle before stepping to the side of the bridge to be away from the road.

“Roger!” Itadori started with a confident smile presented on his face as he tugged at the vinyl cord he was holding.

Slowly, you began to walk away from the group while Nitta got back in her car before driving away and steadily grabbed onto the metal poles the were in front of you - probably built to prevent any more suicidal people from jumping over - and with much effort, began to pull yourself up to reach to the top before grabbing in the metal bar as you pulled yourself up even further.

“GOJO, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Kugisaki screamed in horror, as she finally turned around to discover you pulled your body up to sit on top of the fence as you peered down to check how far you had to jump down in order to find what you were looking for in this mission.

“SHE’S NOT LISTENING!” Kugisaki yelled (once again) as she pointed at you in anger, causing the boys to turn around to see what the fuss was about before seeing the drastic measures you had taken to find the cursed spirit.

“Woah, Gojo, there’s no need for that! We have the vinyl cord for a reason!” Itadori mentioned, which seemed to be a way of getting you to come down from where you were right now as you turned to look at him before turning back at the ground below you.

“SHE’S NOT LISTENING AGAIN!” Itadori cried out in fear, as if he hadn’t done more stupid and extremes things than what you were doing right now.

“Gojo!” Fushiguro shouted before jumping up to reach the back of your school jacket, leading you to grab onto the sides of the metal bar that you were sitting on right now for support before turning back to peer at the shikigami user, ready to yell at him for disturbing your train of thought only for him to give you a pair of surprised eyes as if he remembered something.

“Get down, please,” Fushiguro quietly commanded, leading you to give him a deadpan expression before turning back to prepare to jump off since you couldn’t find another way to get down there, only for Fushiguro to pull you from your jacket once again leading your body to start to fall backwards - much to your surprise - to which caused the boys to immediately get behind you, ready to catch you so you didn’t hit the ground at all. 

“You drag!” you screamed at Fushiguro before letting your body fall towards the safe side of the metal barrier, processing to land on top of Itadori and Fushiguro as a result.

                                              ꕥ

Letting out a yawn, Itadori couldn’t help but emphasise how tired and bored he was as he remained seated on the metal railings that all four of you were sitting on right now.

“Hey, we didn’t find hide nor hair of any cursed spirit,” Kugisaki whined in annoyance as her posture slouch in disappointment, leaving Fushiguro to slouch in boredom while you had your eyes closed as if you were sleeping while sitting up straight when in reality, you were concentrating on sensing any lingering cursed energy around the area you were in right now.

Suddenly, you felt something pressed gently on the side of your head before it pushed you down to the side slowly, causing the movement to halt the second you felt someone’s shoulder being used as a pillow for your head leading a sense of confusion to rise within your stomach before you heard a few teasing sounds from Kugisaki.

“Oh~ what a gentleman Fushiguro~” Kugisaki teased, leading you to realise that your head was now resting on Fushiguro’s shoulder since it did seem like you had fallen asleep while sitting up.

“I’m surprised she can sleep while sitting up,” Itadori commented, as she leaned forward to see you in what seemed to be in a state of rest since you made the decision to keep your eyes closed.

“You should have seen her while we were training, she was asleep for so long every day,” Kugisaki mentioned as she began to recall all the times you had taken a nap during your daily training sessions with the second-years as preparation for the Kyoto Sister School Exchange Event.

                                              ꕥ

As time went by, after you had ‘woken up’ from your nap when in reality, you had given up on trying to trace a single amount of cursed energy from the distance you were away from the ground below - which was where you were trying to go from the beginning if Fushiguro didn’t pull you down - you were now in front of a small convenience store while sipping on a small carton of orange juice that you had managed to purchase as a breakfast substitute since you were surprisingly not feeling hungry at all currently.

“We didn’t sense any presences or residuals,” Fushiguro informed Nitta, who had come to pick you three up after not hearing a single thing from everything, except for all of you being hungry. 

“I see, which means this ain’t it, Guess it’s back to square one,” Nitta replied with a slight tone of disappointment as the most promising lead has been for nothing.

‘It wouldn’t be square one if you just let me jump down to the bottom to investigate…’

“Gojo, is there something wrong?” Kugisaki asked as she noticed you looking to the side with a somewhat annoyed expression planted on your face.

“It’s nothing,” you replied before taking another sip from the carton you were holding.

“But isn’t it bad if we take too long?” Itadori asked in a light serious tone.

“Why?” Kugisaki questioned, wondering why they needed to be in a hurry to finish the mission as soon as possible.

“Well, it’s a famous haunted location, right? There might still be plenty of others who got cursed and right now, the death rates at 100%. We don’t want to see others die, right?” Itadori explained as he answered Kugisaki’s previous question.

“True,” Kugisaki muttered, once she took Itadori’s theory into consideration.

“Ding-Ding! Bungee jumping was all the rage then, right? So maybe the act of jumping off is the key?” Nitta asked as she seemed excited to think of another clue on how to find the curses that were the curse for all these deaths that have been happening.

“Did she say “ding-ding”? Did she really say that?” Itadori asked as he stared at his senior in adoration.

“She did! She did!” Kugisaki replied in the same high tone with the same look at adoration at how cute Nitta was right now.

“Itadori already tried that,” Fushiguro mentioned causing the bungee jump idea to come to a halt.

“Huh?..... What?! You mean you jumped with that vinyl cord?!” Nitta screamed in shock as she began to imagine how you, Fushiguro, and Kugisaki would wrap Itadori in the cord, only for the shikigami user to fly kick him over the metal bar with you and Kugisaki holding onto the end of the cord.

“Hey, there you are!” someone shouted, causing you to look towards the direction in where the sound was coming from, only to discover one of the punks from yesterday to be on a bike with someone behind him with her arms wrapped around his waist.

“Fushiguro-san!” the punk shouted to gain the shikigami user’s attention.

“Who’s that again?” Kugisaki asked as she stared at the punk with a confused expression only for Itadori to answer her question by mentioning the people were Fushiguro’s upperclassman from his middle school and how she was ready to pick a fight with them causing her to suddenly remember who the person was.

“You were talking about Yasohachi Bridge, so...I’m really glad I found you here!” the puck mentioned with a smile on his face with slight sweat from the swift bike riding as well as a hint of fear of Fushiguro.

‘Fujinuma?...If I recall, she was a student as well…’ you thought, as you watched the girl get off of the bike she was on before walking towards the group as her eyes widened at you for a second before turning into complete confusion, leading your body to complete tense for a second.

“Fujinuma?” Fushiguro muttered causing Nitta to look at him with a perplexed expression before he clarified that she was an old classmate of his.

“My older sister,” the punk introduced the girl leading her to bow as a greeting.

“I’m glad you remember me,” Fujinuma stated in a soft-toned voice before straightening back up to face everyone within the group.

“I was talking to my sister about you yesterday, and..” the punk stated before his sister took the reins.

“Um, Morishita-san had a funeral in the neighbourhood...Then I heard from my brother that you were looking into that man and Tasohachi Bridge, so I started to wonder if they were related…” Fujinuma began to explain, leading Nitta from behind both of the people to shake her head as they needed to hide the real reason on why everyone was here right now to which Fushiguro noticed.

“If what’s related?” Fushiguro queried as if he didn’t understand what was going on.

“Morishita-san’s death and the bridge…” Fujinuma replied in a smaller tone.

“They’re not related, we just-” Fushiguro quickly countered back.

“I...I went there. In eighth grade...I went to Yasohachi Bridge at night,” Fujinuma stated as her face contorted in fear as she began to tilt her head down, causing Kugisaki to give a look as she began to wonder how many people had been to that bridge.

“Has anything odd happened at home recently? Any strange feelings that only affect you and no one else?” Nitta asked as she leaned down to face the fearful girl, only for Fujinuma to look up once again.

“My family runs a local branch shop...and the shop’s automatic door is wide open only when I come home. Mom and Dad both say it’s just a coincidence, but there’s definitely something there. It scared me. That’s when I heard about you and remembered the Yasohachi Bridge,” the girl replied as she began to shiver in fear while trying to recall all the same incidents happening to her.

“When did the issue with your automatic door start?” Nitta queried, trying to get enough information as sly as possible.

“It’s happened about every other day for exactly one week now,” Fujinuma replied in a shaky tone.

‘There’s at least two weeks between when the four victims noticed something and their deaths,’ Fushiguro thought.

‘We still have some time,’ Itadori thought, encouraged by the fact that there was some amount of time left to save someone from the cycle that was happening right now.

“You didn’t go to Yasohachi Bridge by yourself at the time, did you? Do you remember who you went with?” Kugisaki asked, trying to make sure there weren't any other victims that you all were missing at this current moment in time.

“Um, so this really does have something to do with…” Fujinuma mentioned in a stutter, scared that her life might now be at risk.

“Just with your automatic door. But it has nothing to do with Morishita-sans’s death. Fushiguro-kun and the others are helping me with my college report: Electromagnetic Waves from Haunted Locations and their Effects on Electronics, it’s a huge pain in my gut!” Nitta responded quickly, before suddenly linking arms with you causing you to put on a realistic fake smile to hold the lie in place.

“But I want to hear from all kinds of people, so I’d love to hear who you went with,” Nitta continued, trying to make the girl calm herself down while reminding her the fact that they now have to save her life before something could happen to her.

“I went on a test of courage with two others from my club. That’s right. Fushiguro-kun, Tsumiki-san was with us then, too,” Fujinuma announced, causing you to halt for a second while Itadori and Kugisaki were shocked at the fact that Fushiguro’s sister was involved in this too.

“I see. Then I’ll try asking Tsumiki, too,” Fushiguro replied calmly.

“There was also another person there at the bottom of the bridge, but I don’t remember really clearly of her at all...she was wearing our uniform thought, sort of reminds me of her,” Fujinuma stated as she pointed off to somewhere, leading your whole body to become suddenly numb at the fact that her finger was directing pointing at you causing your classmates to turn to you in fear at what might happening to you if her statement was true.

“Sorry, but I never been here at all, maybe you have the wrong person?” you unconcernedly suggested, trying to change you from being the topic of the conversation leading the girl to look confused again before gasping on how silly she was being before mentioning that she had never even met you and that she apologised for scaring you.

“Okay, then I’ll escort these two home. Please keep working on the report,” Nitta mentioned to the four of you with a smile on her face.

“Something’s up, isn’t it?” Fujinuma’s brother asked leading Nitta to form another excuse on how she could let them ride a bike back after making them petal all the way here, causing you to turn around and take a deep breath the second they began walking away.

“Fushiguro,” Itadori called out in worry before repeating his name again louder as he proceeded to grab onto his friend’s shoulder, only to see the look of unknown fear painted across Fushiguro’s face.

“Fushiguro, snap out of it, make sure she’s safe first,” Itadori muttered in reassurance, as he turned his body to face his friend to help him calm down.

“I’m fine,” Fushiguro muttered in a low tone, once he was able to snap out of his fear daze but apologising to his friend as he needed to take a step back for a second before reaching into his pocket to grab his phone to make a call leaving Kugisaki to come to your side and ask a few questions for you to answer.

“What was she talking about? Were you really a part of that school? Were you really at Yasohachi bridge back then? Answer me, Gojo!” Kugisaki asked in a panic, as you just stared at her with a blank look on your face before letting out a sigh.

“I’ve never been there before until yesterday, I have never been here at all, to begin with. There is no way I could be at that bridge,” you answered, trying to convert the conversation into something different, only for Itadori to turn his body to face you directly as he questioned you again about your ‘involvement’ in everything that's happening right now.

“Why are random people saying if they remember you then, does your cursed technique allow you to manipulate someone’s mind or anything?” Itadori asked as he needed to understand why a few people mentioned about you when you had said you have never been here at this location ever in your life.

“I don’t have a technique that does that, they have been talking about a girl that looks like me,” you answered while proceeding to cross your arms to stay as persuasive as you could while trying to hide a piece of your past that you had already somewhat erased out of everyone’s minds.

‘If they are somehow recalling some bits here and there...what about Fushiguro?’ you thought as you closed your eyes to lessen the headache that was gradually coming from the back of your head.

‘There isn’t enough time to think about it at all...these three need to get out of here before I go investigate the whole thing myself...that is...if my theory is correct like last time’

Suddenly, you reached into the pocket of your skirt before taking out your phone to swiftly call Nitta to pick everyone up from where she had left all of you causing Itadori and Kugisaki to look at you in complete confusion.

                                              ꕥ

“Just get in the car,” you commanded in a low and threatening tone, causing the three first-years to look at you in shock before all three were pushing down into the back seats of the car.

“Us three? What about you Gojo?” Itadori asked in a panic, as he wasn’t sure why you were pushing everyone into the car that Nitta was pulled in - to which she understood why you were doing this at this moment in time.

“The mission has gone into a higher rank than what it was previously predicted, I’ll come back once I’m done with the whole thing,” you stated in a serious manner as you processed to push Itadori further into the car causing Fushiguro and Kugisaki to be squashed behind him before slamming the car door shut before anyone could escape out of the vehicle leaving you alone once the car had driven off with all three of your classmates inside of it.

                                              ꕥ

‘If I remember, you go down here’ you thought, as you began to slide down to the bottom of the ground before walking forward out of the wood, to only find yourself in the same spot you were two years ago in a different sort of uniform.

Taking your katana out of the shoulder bag you were carrying, you hooked it on your lower back before taking the familiar blue metal pole out of the same back before hooking it on to the side of your belt causing it to dangle once it was secured onto your side.

‘If my theory was right along, there should be an incomplete domain lingering around here...meaning there is a possibility that Sukuna’s finger is within a finger bearer if I enter it…’

“What a drag,” you muttered under your breath before sliding your katana out of its wooden sheath as you swift swang it behind you, causing the tip of the blade to be an inch away from Itadori’s neck to which lead the sorcerer to lean his head back in shock as your sudden speed.

“Why are you all here? Didn’t I tell you all to go home and I would deal with this?” you rhetorically asked as you pulled your katana back from Itadori leading him to relax as he let out a breath of relief.

“Fushiguro told us everything and that's what led us to help you out,” Kugisaki mentioned causing your eyes to shift from her to the shikigami user.

“We don’t want you to do this alone, you don’t have to tell us everything you are hiding Gojo, just let us help you,” Itadori pleaded with you as his hands were pressed together in a way to convey a ‘please’ to you.

“I...I can’t tell you anything...I’m sorry,” you muttered, as you slide your katana back into its black wooden casing, causing the trio to look at you with worry in their eyes as they were anxious that the secret you were keeping was something that was going to eat you inside as they were already cautious about your wellbeing if the cursed spirit was now going to target you due to Fujinuma sudden assumption.

                                              ꕥ

After the sudden intrusion of your classmates (much to your dismay), everyone started to walk towards the area where everyone believed the domain was going to be.

Crossing a river or other border - acts that symbolise crossing into the afterlife - carry important meaning in sorcery.

Confidently, everyone took one step forward causing a reaction of electricity to conduct as your foot hit the ground causing it to erupt as the domain suddenly enclosed everyone that had taken a step within its territory.

“There it is,” Itadori stated as he stared up at the curse, leading everyone to prepare themselves with their weapons of choice.

“This one will be rewarding to exorcise,” Kugisaki commented, as she confidently smiled at the scene in front of her.

Suddenly, you had sensed something coming from behind causing you to turn your head to the side to find a disgusting looking creature coming towards you leading everyone to move away slightly as the creature spun in the air before landing in front of all of you.

“What’s this? Someone beat me here?” the creature asked in a weird voice.

“Huh?” Kugisaki yelled out in annoyance.

“Fushiguro, this one’s a different case, right?” Itadori asked as he faced the new cursed spirit that decided to make an appearance.

“Yeah,” Fushiguro confirmed, leading Itadori to close his hands into a fist as they suddenly became consumed with his cursed energy.

“Then you three focus on that other one, I’ll exorcise this one,” Itadori stated as he raised his hands.

“What? You’re going to play with me? I wanted the older sister to,” the curse asked, causing you to shiver as you came to the sudden realisation that this curse was most likely with the others that were at the Kyoto Exchange event.

However, before even one could even move you rapidly unsheath your katana from your wooden casing as you spun around to block the sudden sneak attack that was behind you before utilising your cursed energy to your legs to give you the strength to halt your movement as the sudden intruder in front of you widened their eyes in shock at your sudden speed.

“That isn’t going to work on me again, you drag,” you muttered in a menacing tone causing your new opponent to laugh as they snapped out of their shock.

“Please, call me your mother again,” the woman stated as she smirked at you, leading a wave of anger and excitement to consume your body.

“Please, I….can’t wait to kill you,” you replied back with a crazed smile.

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk imagines #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #itadori yuji #fushiguro megumi #kugisaki nobara #itadori yuji imagines #itadori yuji imagine #fushiguro megumi imagines #fushiguro megumi imagine #kugisaki nobara imagines #kugisaki nobara imagine #itadori yuji x reader #yuji itadori x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #kugisaki nobara x reader #nobara kugisaki x reader

[realllllfangirllllll]

{SF9 Reaction} They get jealous of you fangirling at another group.

Kingdom Edition

{Requested by anon}

SF9 Masterlist

Main Masterlist

(Disclaimer: I kinda wrote mini scenarios for each of them b/c I love this concept so much ashfdgkkjs)

Youngbin

The two of you were pretty transparent with each other in the relationship so he knew you stanned many other groups besides his own. Nothing really bothered him, but that was until he joined Kingdom. While the two of you sat on your couch, cuddled against each other to rewatch the pilot episode, you kept commenting on Bang Chan’s performance and how he had such great leadership skills. Youngbin felt himself get jealous especially when the topic of leadership was brought up. He tried his best to conceal his expression so he raised his other hand that wasn’t wrapped around your waist to the side of his face. You noticed his behavior and immediately thought of a mischievous plan. After all, it wasn’t everyday that you saw your calm and composed boyfriend on the verge of breaking down from jealousy. You purposely escalated your fangirling on Bang Chan until Bin couldn’t contain his composure anymore and he unwinded his arm around your waist, got up, and stood in front of your view. You suppressed your laughter as you moved your head around in an attempt to watch the tv but he wasn’t impressed. His entire body moved along with wherever you moved and you ended up bursting out into giggles. You grabbed his waist to still him but he didn’t budge. “Kitten, I’m not going to stop until you praise me like you did with Bang Chan,” Youngbin said in a bitter tone. You stopped giggling and stood on the couch to match his height. Out of the blue, you showered his sour face with kisses and his expression immediately shifted into his signature eye smile. You pulled back and said sweetly, “How about I give you kisses instead?”

Inseong

Inseong just got back from his shooting for Kingdom and you welcomed him with your arms and wide opened for a hug. He always loved when you gave him a long, warm hug after a day of tiring work but today, he was a lot clingier than usual. He never pulled apart from the hug and walked forward, which caused you to topple over the soft couch. You giggled as he stuffed his face into the side of your neck and took a whiff of your scent. You wiggled around as he tickled you with his breath. In between your giggles you asked why he was being like a mopey puppy and he let out a long groan. He pulled apart and stared up into your eyes with his dopey ones and whined, “When we got ready to leave the shooting site for Kingdom, Chanwoo came up to me and told me how nice you were. How do you guys even know each other??” You chuckled at his pouty and jealous expression and placed your hand on top of his head. You played with his fluffy hair and told him in an amused tone, “Chani had his number and I love Chanwoo’s voice.” You saw Inseong pout again and you continued teasing him, “I couldn’t just give up on such a great opportunity. I am a dedicated ikonic.” The last sentence triggered him and he immediately hoisted his body up and peered down at you with jealousy, “I thought you love my voice.” You giggled and decided to stop teasing him before he exploded with even more jealousy and wrapped your arms around his neck. You pulled him down and connected your lips to his, “I love your voice the most.” He immediately replaced the pout on his lips with a wide smile.

Jaeyoon

You waited for Jaeyoon to finish taking a shower after he came back from his shoot for Kingdom so you sprawled yourself across your bed and decided to stream the youtube clips of previous Kingdom performances on your iPad. The thumbnail of The Boyz’s performance caught your eye and you clicked into the clip. You were so excited to see another version of The Stealer and also couldn’t wait to see your bias, Sangyeon, dancing to it. You were so absorbed into their beautiful choreo, you didn’t realize that Jaeyoon came out of the bathroom and was standing by the bed frame for a good ten minutes. He cleared his throat but you didn’t hear him through the loud audio. Jealously crept into his veins and he tried his best to cover it with sarcasm, “Should I dance to The Stealer so my baby will pay attention to me?” You finally heard him and chuckled at his behavior. You taunted him in response, “But it won’t be the same because you’re not Sangyeon.” Jaeyoon gasped, feigning hurt and took the device from your hands. He carelessly placed it on the bedside table before he flung himself onto the soft mattress. He hovered over you and said with amusement, “Well then I guess I have to show you why Jaeyoon is even better.”

Dawon

Dawon stared at you for the longest time in disbelief and chuckled out of nervousness as you sat beside him on the couch of his company’s dance studio. You made dramatic fangirl comments at Ateez’s Kingdom performance especially when Seonghwa appeared on the screen. You punched Dawon’s arm and told him to watch with you, excessively showering Seonghwa with praises. You weren’t oblivious to your boyfriend’s jealousy but you loved it whenever the opportunity came up. He has a tendency of sarcastically laughing with a hint of shy nervousness when he gets jealous and that was exactly how he was acting at the moment. Originally, you only wanted to see Ateez’s performance because you were a big fan of them and because you were waiting for Dawon to finish practicing. But when he came down and sat beside you, you unintentionally praised Seonghwa’s beauty on stage which sparked Dawon’s jealously and you couldn’t help but to continuously tease him and rile him up. As a result, you amped up your inner fangirl until Dawon couldn’t handle it anymore. “Okay that’s it,” He chuckled bitterly and grabbed your phone. You turned to him and he stared into your eyes with a pout and large puppy eyes. “Focus on me baby.” You swallowed down a laughter and extended your arm out for the phone and wailed, “But my Seonghwa!” At this rate, Dawon knew you were messing with him so he grabbed your arms and placed it around his neck before he proceeded to lift you up off the couch and onto him. He sat back down on the couch and had you on top of his laps. Quickly and cunningly, he shoved your phone underneath his butt and sarcastically remarked with amusement, “Come get your phone if you want to see your Seonghwa that badly.”

Rowoon

Rowoon had just come back from his shooting for Kingdom and you followed him around the house like a lost puppy. “Did you see Younghoon? Did you get to talk to him? How was it seeing him perform live??” You fired questions at him like an automatic rifle, clearly showing your enthusiasm as a Deobi, especially a Younghoon stan. Rowoon knew you really liked The Boyz and he was usually fine with your enthusiastic support for the group. He would even join you and fanboy himself when you watch their stages on Youtube. But Rowoon was exhausted after the shooting and was anticipating to have his s/o welcome him home with some love, something he missed so much after being apart from you for drama and Kingdom shootings. Instead, you were asking him about another man and that immediately sparked his jealousy. At first, he just let you ramble on as he took off his shoes and went to the bathroom to freshen up. He loves you and he usually will never pick a fight or act petty no matter how jealous he was. You knew that. You also knew that he was jealous the moment you opened your mouth. At first, you only wanted to get some intel from your boyfriend who had seen one of your biases in person but after seeing the jealousy that flashed in his eyes, you made it your mission to make Rowoon crack for once. You were enjoying yourself so much that you continued talking about Younghoon even as he was in the shower. You leaned against the marble sink and tried saying random nonsense to rile him up but he only chuckled at your fangirl behavior and continued to shower. Suddenly, a mischievous thought crossed your mind and you waited until Rowoon turned off the shower faucet and stepped out to initiate the plan. You feigned a curious, innocent stare at him and placed your hand beneath your chin as if you were deeply contemplating. “Babe, I’m curious about something...” He absentmindedly replied as he plugged in the hair dryer to the wall outlet, “Oh yeah? What is it?” You smirked and eyed him up and down, “Do you think Younghoon is as tall and built as you?” Rowoon froze midway through drying his hair. He turned towards you and turned the device off with a jealous look on his face, one that you have never seen before. You bit down on your lips to hold back a laughter. Gotcha. Before he could muster up a response you continued, “What about his laugh? Does he laugh like you do?” You stared at your boyfriend innocently and his face was flushed red with jealousy. He placed the hair dryer aside and suddenly hoisted you up on top of his broad shoulders, “Definitely not.” He said firmly and then chuckled before softly throwing you onto the cloud-like mattress. His face hovered closely above yours, “He will never be able to easily carry you like I just did nor could he ever make you smile the way I do.” You burst out into giggles as he proceeded to tickle you until you shower him with compliments the way you did with Younghoon.

Zuho

Zuho casually talked to you about his experience in Kingdom as he drove through the dimly lit streets. The two of you decided to go for a quick date late at night, mostly to avoid getting caught by the media, and he was beyond excited to tell you about meeting his seniors. You listened intently and responded with excitement as well since the both of you were huge fans of Btob. Zuho stopped talking once the car had arrived to the isolated park. The two of you laid on top of the car’s hood and gazed at the stars in the night sky and continued the conversation. Somewhere in the middle of your chat, you turned to him and pouted. You told him you wish you were there as well because you wanted to see and hear Minhyuk live. You emphasized with a big pout on your lips, “I want to see Minhyuk rap with his husky voice but also hear him sing with his honey smooth vocals.” Zuho froze for a second, your words not fully processing through his mind. He turned towards you and mumbled with slight jealousy, “I didn’t know you like Minhyuk that much.” He chuckled in disbelief and questioned you, “Husky voice? Honey smooth vocals?” He then became really flustered, caught by surprise at you fangirling more than usual. He kept blinking in disbelief, unable to accept the fact that you liked Minhyuk so much. You found amusement in his cute behavior and teased him even more. You placed your hands by your heart and said dramatically, “I could die happily once I hear Minhyuk live.” Zuho started to get really flustered, cheeks red with jealousy. You chuckled at your adorable boyfriend and squished his cheeks, “I’m messing with you babe! I’m a diehard Melody but my boyfriend is always the #1 person I’d die for.” You gave him a ridiculously sweet look and he caved in. He pulled you on top of him for a hug before the both of you accidentally slid off the side of the hood and onto the ground, with Zuho underneath you as a cushion. He grunted at the impact as you giggled uncontrollably.

Taeyang

When you were mindlessly humming to No Air in the kitchen after watching The Boyz’s latest Kingdom performance, Taeyang’s ears perked up and jealousy immediately ignited in his body. Yes, he gets jealous that easily. You would usually tell him how you enjoy watching The Boyz perform because it’s so satisfying and he would agree because it’s true. But you would also start to notice his pettiness everytime you mention them. He’d nod at your comments and agree but in a way that seems almost sarcastic. “Yeah they are great dancers,” he’d tell you. But then he’d look up at you and say, almost for confirmation, “But I’m a great dancer too.” You’d chuckled to yourself and agree or else you know he’ll be sulking for the rest of the day. But this time, you wanted to see how Taeyang gets when he’s really jealous. At first, No Air really was stuck on your head so you were humming to it. However, something mischievous struck you as you were making chocolate covered strawberries in the kitchen. You wanted to see how far you could take the joke so you purposely pressed his buttons. From the moment he heard you humming, he immediately dashed by your side and wrapped his arms around you as you boiled the chocolate. He laid his head on your shoulder and tried his best to subtly ask you, “Were you watching The Boyz’s performance again?” You replied with a yes and emphasized, “Juyeon is such a great dancer and his expressions are so intriguing,” and that’s when Taeyang lost it. He clung onto you as you were trying to cool down the chocolate and even while you were moving to grab the strawberries from the fridge, he’d stick to you like glue and kept asking you why you like Juyeon so much. “Babyyy,” he whined, “Did you forget about me??” He kept kissing your cheeks with his arms wrapped around you as you struggled to wash the strawberries. At the end, you gave up and twisted around to face him. His arms never let go of your waist as he continued saying jealous nonsense. You took your hand and squished his cheeks, “You are the best, most handsome and talented dancer, artist, and boyfriend okay?” He smirked, satisfied, and you giggled at his ridiculous face squished between your hand. He was just about to open his mouth to spew more nonsense and you shoved a strawberry in his mouth, “okay now shush babe. I love you but I want to eat my chocolate covered strawberries, preferably with the chocolate, so stop clinging onto me.”

Hwiyoung

Hwiyoung’s a fun-loving boyfriend and he wouldn’t just randomly get jealous even if you were meeting up with an ex. He respects your boundaries and trusts your decisions. You love him for that but it also wanted made you curious as to how your boyfriend would react when jealous. SO you decided to surprise him after his Kingdom shoot and went to pick him up with their manager. You hid in the van and surprised the boys when they came toward the vehicle. The eight boys already knew your devious plan and paid no mind to you acting unusually dramatic as you kept asking him if he talked to Hyunjin during the shoot and if you could meet him as well. He looked at you weirdly with a bit of skepticism, “You weren’t that interested in meeting him when I was on Idol Radio with him..why are you so eager now?” You flinched at his retaliation and quickly hopped into the van. You heard Rowoon and Juho snickered in the back and you glared at them for the mockery. As the engine started and the vehicle started down the road back to the dorms, you initiated your second attempt to get under your boyfriend’s skin. You pulled out your phone and watched the Stray Kids’s introduction stage on youtube without earphones. Subtly, you turned to Hwiyoung and asked with the most innocent and adoring eyes, “Babe I didn’t know Hyunjin looked so great with long hair.” At that comment, Hwiyoung’s expression slightly shifted. Almost immediately he responded with a more serious tone, “Even better than I did?” You held back your laughter and felt success creeping up. In the back of the van, you saw Rowoon and Zuho giving you a slightly surprised expression. You winked at them and got excited as your boyfriend gradually became jealous. When you all got back to the dorm, Hwi stuck to your side. You tried so hard not to laugh as he kept asking you with slight skepticism in his tone, “When did you like Hyunjin so much?” “Should I grow out my long hair again?” He acted like a kid got abandoned by his mother and needed to grab your attention. To your surprise, he acted in such a different way than you would’ve thought. But you found it so adorable so you teased him even more by turning the tv on to watch a Hyunjin fancam. Hwi caught you by surprise again as he plopped down on the couch beside you and wiggled adorably to get your attention. You raised the remote to your lips and masked your giggles, keeping note to tease him more often.

Chani

Another one that doesn’t get jealous often. Or ever actually. That’s just not the way he shows affection. But that was until things got a little too personal. Beside the sepgu boys, Chani has never really seen you interact with any of his other friends so he never understood actual jealousy. However, after the one time Chanwoo called Chani to thank him for his advice on Kingdom, he started to notice how much you liked Chanwoo and Ikon. Because of your boyfriend’s appearance on Kingdom, you started to take an interest on Ikon and became a fan of their music. It was true that you liked Chanwoo’s voice but it was never really to the extent of fangirling over him. That thought never crossed your mind until Chani kept asking you how much you liked Ikon, or most importantly, Chanwoo. From his point of view, he’d always notice how your face brightens while watching Ikon performances on the tv. He’d stare at you with a hesitant smile and when you asked him what he was staring at you for, he’d simply reply with a shrug, “You always seem so happy to see Chanwoo’s part in the song.” At first, you hadn’t put much thought into his comment until he continuously brought it up every time an Ikon music video appeared on tv. And so one day, you decided to tease him and hopefully see your boyfriend become an adorable, jealous mess. The two of you were browsing through Netflix shows in your bedroom since it was his free day. You had the remote as you struggled to find something remotely interesting to watch. The two of you slept until late afternoon, yet Chani was still as drowsy as before. You chuckled to yourself as he laid comfortably on your shoulder. Suddenly, he shifted on the bed and got up to go to the bathroom. You found this to be the perfect chance to rile him up so you quickly exited the Netflix page and went to youtube to watch a Chanwoo fancam. Chani came back and slightly flinched in surprise at the tv screen. Your eyes were glued to the tv screen and you ignored him as he crawled back onto the bed and asked, “I thought we were watching a show?” You smiled to yourself and told him you felt like watching Chanwoo dance instead. You were mentally preparing yourself to see Chani act adorably jealous but he took you by surprise and grabbed the remote from you. He turned the tv off and stared at you with dark lust in his eyes. You fell back against the headboard as he hovered over you. He whispered in a deep voice with apparent annoyance and jealousy in his tone, “Chanwoo this. Chanwoo that. It seems like you forgotten who your boyfriend is.” You chuckled nervously and told him you were just joking, but it was too late. Chani pulled the covers over the both of you and lets just say...you eventually got off bed to have your first meal of the day in the late evening.

———

• Yes. These were long. Yes. Some of these gradually got spicy. 🥵 But I couldn’t help it I love the boys agsgsksks •

• Support the boys (and other groups) on kingdom! •

#kpop #sf9 reactions #kpop requests #sf9 fluff #sf9 imagines #sf9 scenarios #kpop reactions #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #sf9 smut #sf9 drabble #sf9 zuho #youngbin #inseong #jaeyoon #dawon #rowoon #juho #zuho #taeyang #hwiyoung #chani #kpop fluff #kpop smut #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop boys

[yeojaa]

( DEVIL IN A NEW SUIT. )

Money’s something that makes the world go around.  There’s absolutely nothing wrong with securing the bag.  You don’t shame anyone for doing what they need to do.  

That is, until you come face to face with the poor guy that’s being suckered out of both his heart and cash.  You simply can’t let it go on.

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating.  idiots to lovers.  fluff, angst, smut.  the holy trifecta, babies!  explicit, obviously.  

tags / warnings.  mentions of infidelity, kook being adorable and sad, reader being a bit of a tactless butthole, a satin playsuit (very nsfw), kook does a 180, smut in the form of: a slight oral fixation, too much spit, overstimulation, pussy slapping, unprotected sex (pls don’t be irresponsible).

wc.  12.2k of nonsense.  pure nonsense, i tells ya. 

beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif​ did what she always does aka read through this and made me a better writer and @yeoldontknow​ dealt with my big dumbass and let me cry about my pea brain to her.  i love you both sm!!!  ✨💜

author note.  the long-awaited fic is here!!  i really hope you enjoy it.  if you do, please maybe leave a comment or something?  i swung back and forth between loving and hating this so it’d really, really mean a lot.  anyway, thanks as always for reading and i adore you!  stay safe and happy and healthy!

He’s a sucker.  That’s what you think of him, despite the fact you’ve never met him.  It’d be impossible not to, given what you’ve heard. 

His girlfriend - or something - is in every other week, flashing his black card like she has something to prove.  Sometimes, she’s by herself;  often, she’s with another gaggle of girls that fawn all over themselves and shriek a little too loudly for your taste.  They’re vapid, snooty in a way that makes you cringe every time they step into the boutique.  Still, you’re nice because this is your job and you have to be.  You can’t exactly tell a paying customer to get lost - even if you think it at least six times each visit. 

“He has no idea.”  It’s always the same thing, a story that pulls at your heartstrings yet has you scoffing in equal parts.  “I told him we were doing a girls’ trip but Hyunjin’s going to meet me on his way back and we’re spending the week at the Ritz.”

How can he possibly be this dumb, you wonder.  How can’t he see past the pretty pink lipstick and perfectly coiffed blonde hair?  It isn’t even that nice of a colour job - too icy and reminiscent of Malibu Barbie. 

(She’d bragged about it once - how she’d gotten an appointment at one of the most coveted salons in the city, spending hours in the stylist’s chair to get this “perfect shade”.  Her words, not yours.)

You figure he must be some lonely schmuck, some poor old sap who can’t possibly get what he’s looking for anywhere else.  Maybe he had some weird spoiling kink - if so, where was your man like that - or he just wanted companionship and found it in the arms of girls who paid him any sort of attention.  Truthfully, you thought a lot of things about him.  Kind of had to, given how often his girlfriend was in, rambling about her exploits and snickering behind his back.

You’d never expected him to be like this.

Jeon Jungkook shows up on a Sunday afternoon, shortly after lunch and with the dopiest smile on his face. 

Your colleague notices him first, nudging you to attention because you, unlike her, actually do productive things while you’re at work like go through layaways and make sure items aren’t sitting in the back gathering dust.

“He’s cute,”  she very poorly whispers, voice carrying because it always does.  She’s a younger girl - maybe a few years your junior, who’d gotten her job through pure nepotism - but she’s sweet enough.  Zero tact, though.  Never notices when she’s being just a little too forceful with her sales but her sweet smile and full rack seem to keep her from getting into any trouble.  You consider her a vaguely annoying sister, someone you love even when you don’t necessarily like her.

You glance up from the iPad balanced in your hands, disinterested.  “Who?”

There’s an older couple striding past the entrance, hand-in-hand with three Hermes bags.  (God, what awful taste.)  There’s another couple standing at the mouth of the Louis Vuitton boutique, bickering about which belt will best match the boyfriend’s tux best.  (The answer is neither, because those belts do not belong with a classic black tux.)

“Him.”

Yejin all but points him out, jerking her chin in his direction.  You don’t know how you hadn’t really clocked him in the first place.  Maybe because he’s so unassuming that you’d just brushed over him, noting his outfit before moving on.  When you look at him - really look at him - you can’t look away.

You think he’s handsome in that off-kilter kind of way, too-big teeth and too-wide eyes.  He’s terribly innocent looking, despite the fact that he’s wearing a gleaming gold Rolex and sleek black boots you recognise from Prada’s 2019 RTW.  Everything he wears is tailored, fitting him to the point you wonder who his seamstress  is.  

But then he speaks, and it’s not the suave, sultry voice you’d expect.  It’s featherlight and almost shy, bashful in its delivery.  

“I’m here to pick up a bag for my girlfriend?”  He upspeaks.  It’s stupidly adorable.

Bless her soul, Yejin throws a glance in your direction first.  A silent ‘yours or mine?’ that’s answered when you step forward, blindingly bright customer service smile in full effect.  “What’s the item and the name it’s under?”  You keep in mind he’s said girlfriend very clearly, even as you can’t help but trail your stare over his shoulders, the dimple that digs itself into his cheek when he speaks again.

“Oh, it’s under mine.  Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.” 

You’re floored.  This is Jeon Jungkook?  This specimen draped in leather and fine Japanese silk is the poor idiot wrapped around Barbie’s finger?  You’ve got to be kidding.

You wonder whether the surprise is evident on your face.  It must be, given how quickly Yejin interrupts, piping up in that saccharine sweet voice of hers.  “I’ll grab it!  The Box bag in cloud, right?”

Jungkook can only nod dumbly.  He has no idea what he’s there to pick up - only that he needs to because his girlfriend is away on a trip with her two best female friends.  He tells you as much, chuckling at his own ignorance.  It’d be cute if it weren’t so sad, his eyes twinkling like the jewels set in your ears.  There’s so much love in his eyes it’s frankly sickening.  

It comes before you can help it, snapping off your tongue - an oil spill ready to drag him to the depths of hell.

“Oh - you’re Kiko’s boyfriend?  I thought you’d left for Hong Kong already.”  Your head tilts - the picture of innocence as you continue to spew things you shouldn’t, staining the innocence of his expression with each word that drops off.  “She said she was leaving on Friday.”  Even while you’re tearing this poor man’s life apart, you’re racking your brain for the off-handed comments she’d made.  “She kept going on and on about how she was so excited to be staying at the Ritz.”

It’s almost like you gain some sick sort of satisfaction in watching his face fall.  You’ve never seen someone crumble so quickly, every ounce of affection swept up and spat out in the time it takes you to take a solid, proper breath.  

You do feel bad.  Not for saying it, but for being the person to do this.  For hurting this stranger.  (At least he knew?)

“I think you have me mistaken for someone else.”  Gone is the sunny friendliness, the blissful geniality.  He’s very much uncertain, bunny teeth digging into the full swell of his bottom lip.  He’s pigeon-toed and round-shouldered, thick brows drawn neatly over his stare as he focuses on some indeterminate point somewhere by his feet. 

If Yejin were on the floor with you, she’d tell you to knock it off.  Chastise you for getting involved in something you had no business being in.  (She’d be right, but you’ve always been an advocate for tough love.)  As it stands, she’s still in the back finding that stupid girl’s bag and you’re here, shaking your head, weakening Jungkook’s resolve with the edge of your teeth.  “No, she definitely said she was going away with her boyfriend.  Did you maybe give us the wrong name?”

Maybe if he weren’t so upset, he’d be more offended by the insinuation he’s stupid.  Instead, he only falters further, head mimicking yours.  Poor guy.

“I—I think there’s been a mistake.”

Yeah, you dating that gold-digger, you want to say.  Instead, you meet his stare like you haven’t just dug a thousand holes in his foundation.  “Oh, maybe.  I’m sorry.”  The apology is honest, even if the meaning behind it isn’t.  That’s a thing, right?  Apologising to make someone feel better, even when you don’t necessarily agree with it?  

God, you’re an altruist. 

“It’s fine.”  When he stutters, adorable lisp coming out to play, you know it’s not.  You applaud him for his brave face, even if it’s very poorly offered - a makeshift mask you think you could tear off with just another well-aimed word.  (You won’t.)

“Here it is!”  Yejin’s back, bouncing out from behind the counter with the giant white bag in her hands.  If she notices the atmosphere, she says nothing.  You remind yourself to tell her good job once Jungkook leaves - and you know he’ll leave the moment he’s got those silk handles in his hand.  He looks about ready to cry - or ready to fight, you’re not sure.

Once the purchase is passed over, he nods his head furiously and you swear you see a tear go flying.  You don’t have time to ask before he’s hoofing it out of the store.  

He doesn’t even notice he’s left his wallet on the counter.

By the time you snatch it up and round the corner, he’s nowhere to be found.  Probably because running in stilettos is next to impossible and he’s gotten an embarrassed head start.  Well then.

“I guess we’ll have to call him,”  you hum, turning the Prada bi-fold over and over in your hands.  It’s practically brand new, stuffed with large bills, his driver’s license, and few credit cards, including a Hyundai black card.  The same one on file that his girlfriend - maybe soon-to-be ex-girlfriend? - uses shamelessly.

Yejin’s watching you carefully, silently.  You’re counting down how long it’ll be until she asks - because you can see the curiosity swimming in her eyes, practically bulging her cheeks with the effort of keeping her questions caged behind her teeth.

Finally, after a good three minutes, she’s at your side, bony point of her chin digging a grave into your shoulder.  It’s probably not the most appropriate thing but she’s never much been one for decorum.  (You either, but still.) 

“So… what was that about?”

You don’t bother to turn when you speak, back to running through order details and matching them with customers.  “What?”

“You know— that!”  She waves her wrist in a circle, gesturing toward the space Jungkook had occupied not five minutes ago.  “He ran out of here like he was scared for his life.”

“Scared of the truth,”  you correct. 

You hadn’t thought it was possible for her to get more pale - she’s already fine porcelain, perpetually slathered in sunscreen - but she somehow does, balking at your response.  There it is. 

“What?”  There’s a reproachful edge to her words, an uncertainty that tells more than the single syllable. 

“What?”  It’s mimicry and a challenge all in one, meeting her stare from the corner of your periphery.  You can read every emotion that runs through her expression:  shock, displeasure, confusion.  

She retreats a step, bottom lip caught between her teeth.  (She really does remind you of your little sister.)  “So, you told him?”

You shrug, a noncommittal gesture that disrupts the curtain of silk that falls over your shoulder.  You hadn’t laid it out for him but surely he had an idea now.  There was no way he didn’t. 

“I pointed out a few conflicting facts.  That’s all.”  You’re not ashamed about what you’ve done.  You’d want to know if you were him.  Consider it an act of goodwill. 

The silence that meets your ears isn’t surprising but you don’t pay it any further mind.  What’s done is done.  Now he knows, or something close to it.  The chips would simply fall where they were meant to. 

You have to admit - you’re rooting for him. 

Whatever Yejin’s thinking, she keeps it to herself for the rest of the shift.  She knows better than to berate you about something like this, not that she would anyway.  Obnoxious as she can be, you have an understanding.  It strengthens your not-quite-close-friends-but-more-than-colleagues relationship. 

It’s only at the end of your shift that she brings it up again, drifting over to you as you complete your cash count for the evening. 

She holds Jungkook’s wallet in her hand, mouth pursed thoughtfully as she taps it against the edge of the counter.  “You have to call him.”

You almost lose your count, finishing with a pinched expression.  “Whoever works tomorrow morning can call him.”  You’re not brushing off the responsibility - you really could care less - but simply passing it along to the next person.  Sensible. 

As it turns out, you’re the person who works the next morning, called in because another associate has come down with a cold.  

You’re two lattes deep when you remember the wallet, tucked neatly behind the counter with a yellow sticky note posted to the front.  You suppose it’s your responsibility now.  You know if Yejin comes in tomorrow and sees it, she’ll give you her childish brand of hell. 

The line rings twice before it picks up, that oddly familiar voice crackling through the speaker.  “Hello?”

“Jungkook?”  

There’s a beat of silence followed by a careful confirmation. “Yes, that’s me?”  Upspeaking again. How cute. 

“I’m calling from the CELINE boutique.”  You can practically imagine the look on his face, eyes as wide as saucers as he recalls the awful-to-him encounter.  “You left your wallet here and I wanted to make sure you got it back.”

“O-oh, uh—“  It’s like encountering a baby bunny - or deer or something equally adorable and vulnerable.  “Thanks.  I didn’t even notice.  Um, I can come pick it up today?”  There’s another pause, the sound of fingers over a screen, and then he’s back.  “Is that okay?”

Leave it to him to have lost his wallet and yet be worried about putting someone else out.  He truly was a sucker. 

“That’s fine.  We’re open until six tonight.”  

“I’ll be there before dinner.”  As if realizing how vague that is, he continues, words running headlong into each other like he can’t get them out fast enough.  “Before six, I mean.  Um, is around five-thirty okay?” 

You want to tell him to just come whenever, that it really doesn’t matter to you, but that probably isn’t going to help the situation.  Instead, you hum a quiet sound of confirmation.  “Of course.  We’ll see you then.” 

He hangs up immediately. 

The second time you meet Jeon Jungkook, he’s just as endearing as the last.  It’s actually surprising, if you’re being honest.  You’d thought he’d be resentful or mean or any other emotion better fitting someone whose entire world had turned upside-down.

As it stands, he’s just the right-side of anxious, a hundred little sparks of uncertainty flaring beneath his skin and lighting him up in neon.  You can see him from a mile away he’s lit up so bright, seemingly uncomfortable in his own skin.

Your heart aches for him - and then it skips, almost trips over its own two feet when he wanders into the store with his hands dug deep into the pocket of his pants.

How he looks tonight is nothing like how he’d looked yesterday.  Somehow, you like it more.  The undone head-to-toe Balenciaga, the unruly curl of his dark hair.  It’s effortlessly chic - though you think it might have something to do with the fact that he’s just an attractive person.  (Good-looking people could get away with anything - even god-awful fashion faux pas.)

At the sight of you, he seems to further lose steam, eyes widening to such an extent you briefly worry for him.  Surely they’ll fall out of their sockets one day.  

“O-oh.  It’s you.”  The moment the words come, he’s blushing the colour of your red-soled shoes, horrified.  “I m-mean, just—”  He takes a deep breath, finds his footing and tries again.  “You’re the girl that helped me yesterday.”  Spoken like you, the exact girl who helped him yesterday, wouldn’t remember that fact yourself.  

“That’s right,”  you say evenly, expression neutral.  It’s almost as if that surprises him more - as if he’d expected you to shy away from the knowledge.  

The two of you stare at each other for longer than is strictly speaking necessary.  Well, you stare at him and he kind of bounces his eyes around the room.  You know he can’t be that interested in the croc stamp Belt bag behind your head or the selection of small leather goods in the glass case.  

He’s so awkward.

(You did kind of ruin his day though, so you can’t blame him.)

“So, um, my wallet?”  He’s made barely any headway, still lingering awkwardly by the front of the store.  You can’t help your smile - it’s more of a smirk - as you raise the item in question.  

“Right here.”

Jungkook glances from it to your face, then back again.  He makes the same trip twice more.  “Can I have it?”  To your surprise, he’s taken two whole steps toward you, brow furrowed.  He’s still terribly soft, rounded edges and innocent eyes, but he’s making progress.  Good job, you think.

“Of course.”  You mirror him, moving out from behind the counter.  Somehow, that’s not the right move, because his features are breaking and rearranging, big bunny teeth worrying a hole straight through his bottom lip.  You’d think he’d be more confident, more demanding, more… everything.  (You quite like that he isn’t - a complete anomaly - but you also imagine it’s also to his detriment.  Too much honey, not enough vinegar.)

This time, he closes the distance with three long strides.  It hadn’t escaped you how tall he was, the length of his gait - after all, you’d tried to run after him - but you’re still a little surprised when he’s in front of you, not a foot away, arm extended.  Palm out, he asks again, all while refusing eye contact.  “May I have it, please?” 

You hand it over with a soft laugh, pressing the grained leather into his hand.  You expect him to retreat immediately and he does - but then he turns and his expression is inscrutable.  Is he going to say thank you?  Berate you for what you’d done yesterday?

Neither, it seems.  “Why did you do it?”  There’s no anger, just an abiding sadness that laces his words, turns them the saddest shade of blue.

“Do it?”  You know what he means.  You ask anyway.

“Why did you tell me?”  Jungkook’s doing that thing again, alternating between biting his tongue and chewing his cheek as he stares at you.  You can practically see the melancholy rolling off him;  it shines dark on the depths of his irises, how his fist trembles just barely at his side.  For all his good looks and leisurely charm, you can see the effort it takes to hold himself together now.

Guilt ascends, starts somewhere deep in your stomach and turns stomach acid to butterflies.  It creeps higher and higher over your spine, locking each vertebrae until you’re immobile, unable to tear your gaze from his.  “I thought you deserved to know.”

“But why?” 

“What do you mean?”  

It’s almost comical, how both your expressions descend into bewilderment - like looking into a fun house mirror.  He’s trying to wrap his mind around your actions and you’re just trying to make sense of his confusion.  

You anticipate a response - can see it tittering on the tip of his tongue - but he seems to think better of it, shaking his head.  It dislodges a wayward curl from behind his ear, silver twinkling with the movement.  

“Thank you” is all he offers before speed-walking away.

You don’t expect to see Jeon Jungkook for a third time.  

He’s waiting for you when you end your shift on Thursday, standing somewhere between the two boutiques, loitering like some kind of gremlin.  (Except he’s dressed exceptionally well, slick black jeans and a Balenciaga tee shirt that rivals the cost of your shoes.  Of course he’d get away with hanging out in the store without being told off.)

“Excuse me.”  For once, he doesn’t sutter.  The lisp doesn’t present itself, either.  Was this the same Jungkook?  You’re not sure until you meet his stare - or try, his own skipping away the moment you make contact.

There he is.

“Yes, Jungkook?”  He flinches, as if he isn’t expecting you to know or say his name.  How can someone so big, so broad across the shoulders with a face that belongs on billboards, look like such a terrified rabbit?  It makes no sense to you.

“Can we talk?”  The stare he levels you with is unfair, too sweet and coaxing for you to even consider saying no.  You’ll still mess with him a bit though.

“We are talking.”

He sputters at that, hacks out a cough that makes you snicker openly.  It’s just so easy with him, like taking candy from a baby.  

“I mean like— talk talk.”  The set of his jaw gives away the whisper of frustration, the fleeting touch of exasperation that doesn’t allow itself to live anywhere else.  His eyes are still soft, round and glossy beneath the fluorescent storelight.  

“Sure, we can talk talk.”  

“Did you, um, want to grab dinner?”

You don’t mean to mock him (at least, not really) but he just makes everything so easy. You hope he doesn’t take it the wrong way.  “Are you asking me on a date?”  

“W-what?  No!”  Despite the immediacy of his response - the look of utter shock that cracks the careful facade - he’s burning bright, cheeks aflame with colour that licks up and over his ears.  “I just— I thought you’d want to talk somewhere else—”

“I’m kidding.  Let’s go.”

You move first, stepping past him and onto the elevator without a backwards glance.  He scampers after you, trails like a lost puppy in the wake of your shadow.  Even while you stand in the corner, waiting for the lift to meet the main floor, he keeps a careful distance, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.  

“So, what do you want to talk about?”  It seems you have to take the initiative, throwing him a curious stare as the floor number ticks down.  His gaze is trained on neon digits, unmoving.  You repeat yourself, glancing up at him, half-tempted to nudge him out of his reverie.  It’s almost like talking to a really hot brick wall.  “Jungkook?”

He tears out of his thoughts like a wayward bullet, head swivelling wildly.  “Huh?”  

“What did you want to talk about?”  

“Um—”  He hesitates, not as if he doesn’t know the answer, but rather that he’s hesitant to speak it into existence.  There’s a tidal wave in the depth of his stare, a cresting wave that looks on the edge of breaking.  “—m-me?”

Brows furrow then amusement spills out.  “You want to talk about… you?”  

“That sounds bad.”  The shape of his grow prominent over his bottom lip, his mouth pulling and pursing with whatever maelstrom exists inside that pretty skull of his.  

“It’s fine.  We’ll talk at dinner.”  

He nods.  You think it means thank you.

Sitting across from each other in the Michelin-starred restaurant - a sought after spot that takes reservations weeks in advance - it’s easy to imagine Jungkook is just another guy.  Another bachelor with too much money and not enough sense, eager to sink his teeth into his next victim.  

It’s hilarious how far that is from the truth.

“What did you want to eat?”  He’s speaking into the pages of the leatherbound menu, half his face hidden.  Whether it’s a defense mechanism or just how he woos pretty girls, you’re not sure.  (You have a feeling it’s the former.)

“Whatever.”  Everything here is incredible.  You really don’t mind.

Jungkook’s face falls, folds in on itself like wet paper and you sigh a sound that further breaks apart the pillars keeping his composure in place.  His right cheek is hollowed, interior being shredded by enamel.  You take pity on him then, flipping open the menu with a great flourish. 

When the waitress - a lovely little thing whose gaze lingers on your dining partner for too long to just be polite - comes to take your order, you rattle off your usual order, doubling certain selections.  Soft-spoken as he might be, you have a feeling the size of his stomach makes up for all the mumbling and half-hearted glances.

“So?”  You level him with a stare over the rim of your glass, lavender and lemonade bursting across your tongue.  

He echoes you, wide-eyed and Bambi-like and stupidly cute.  “So?”  

“What did you want to talk about?”  If you’d had a worse day, if you were a lesser person, you might be irritated by having to repeat yourself so often.  As it stands, you’re only curious, your inquisitive nature outweighing your naturally short temper. 

“Oh.”  Poor boy looks like he’s been asked an impossible question, like what’s the meaning of life or the secret to eternal youth.  He fumbles with the edge of his sleeve, turns the plaid over and over in his fingers as if it were a puzzle.  You stare at him the whole time, unflinching, unrelenting.  He’d asked you here so you damn well expect an answer.

You’re about ready to repeat yourself - fourth time’s the charm? - when he finally finds his voice.

“I wanted to say thank you.”

It’s not the answer you’d expected.  It whacks you in the face, smacking your usual confidence out of place and shooting your carefully threaded eyebrows into your hairline.  “What?” 

He’s terribly uncomfortable, unhappy with being on the spot.  You watch the flicker of emotions through his face, the ones that creep into the delicate skin beneath his eyes, the wobble of his bottom lip.  Try as he might, he can’t keep the light from his eyes - twinkling stars that bloom like newly minted stars.

“Thank you.”  It’s just that much harder when he repeats himself, edges he builds with his bare hands and a clearing of his throat.

You’re silent for a long while - long enough for the first few plates to be set before you.  You gather up shredded radish and perfectly charred beef with your chopsticks, chewing thoughtfully on the morsel.  Jungkook doesn’t move - doesn’t even reach for his chopsticks - and simply stares at you.  You might find it off-putting if it were anyone but him.

You get through half the bowl of green beans, well on your way to finishing it, when he finally begins eating, deftly transferring little bites to his bowl.

The only sound is crunching - king oyster mushroom tempura, ice from your cocktail - and you’re pleasantly surprised to find it’s not uncomfortable.  A little different, sure, but altogether nice.  Like dining with an old friend.

You finally answer when half the plates are gone, another three laid out in their wake.  You’re careful not to speak with your mouth open - you notice Jungkook doesn’t either - and take a long sip of your water.  “You’re welcome, I guess.”  

Something tells you you’re always surprising him - whether intentionally or not.  His eyebrows have a tendency to shoot up, making him look even more shocked than he normally does.  (Seriously, how big are his eyes?)  You find that funny but don’t comment on it, opting to pop a silken piece of black cod into your mouth.  Your stare never falters, trained on his face as you chew thoughtfully.

“What?”  He’s had enough of your quiet observation, apples of his cheeks reminiscent of the tree in your parents’ backyard.  

“What?”  You parrot back, shameless, dark eyes twinkling at him.

“Y-you’re staring at me.”  

“You’re sitting in front of me.”

The line of his mouth hardens then, tongue rolling against his cheek in a gesture that stands out.  It’s the first glimpse of something rude, something not doe-eyed and innocent.  Oh?

“You don’t have to stare.”  Said with a speared piece of sashimi, the end of his chopsticks assaulting the poor piece of bluefin tuna like it has personally offended him.  

You reach for the same place, knock ornate wood against his, and quirk a brow when he meets your stare.  “Does it bother you, Mr. Jeon?”  The inflection is drawn out, almost mocking, only softened by the smile you offer.  

“That’s not my name.”  The bite disappears past his teeth.  You expect him to continue three chews later but he only goes for another, filling his plate and then his mouth.

“Sorry— Jungkook.  Does my staring bother you?”

It feels a little like playing with fire - holding your hand too close to a flickering flame, curious what it’ll do.  Juvenile in a way but enticing in another.  You’ve never met anyone quite like Jeon Jungkook.

“It’s rude,”  he reasons, glossy eyes meeting yours for perhaps the fifth time that evening.

“Maybe I’m just rude.”

He shakes his head then - dislodges untamed strands from behind his silver-lined ears - and sets his chopsticks down.  (Perfectly matched up, propped against the provided rest.)  “You’re not.”

You can’t keep the surprise away, the emotion threading through your brows to tie them into a little knot of consternation.  He says it so readily, as if he knows you and this isn’t one of a handful of very short, very unexpected conversations.  He’s not even looking away, meeting your stare with a confidence that surprises you.  

It lasts for all of five more seconds before he clears his throat and sips at his tea.  Anything to busy his hands, you think.

“You don’t know that,”  you finally return, after what seems like too long.

“I do.”  He nods - almost to himself - and continues, matter-of-fact.  “You care about people.  You’re… hard around the edges but you don’t mean to hurt anyone.  You want to do what’s right.  Sometimes it means you have to do things that aren’t easy.”

For once, you’re at a loss for words.  Really and truly silenced, unable to articulate anything that might beat back the kindness he’s offering.  

How the tables have turned.

He likes waffles with chocolate syrup rather than honey.  He doesn’t like whipped cream or citrus-flavoured desserts.  He has a tailor he’s gone to since he was a child, the same elderly woman he sometimes calls halmoni because she’s watched him grow up.  He decorates his apartment with the most random things:  limited edition KAWs figurines and the guitars he still hasn’t had the most practice with, one of a kind paintings from the gallery one of his best friends curates.  He buys the most expensive bottles of wine at any given restaurant not because his palate is so evolved it matters, but because it’s what he’s been taught to do.

He’s been in four serious relationships in his twenty-five years.  All of them have ended poorly, though his latest with Malibu Barbie is the first where he’d been cheated on.  (Somehow, you doubt that but you don’t voice this disbelief.)  He tends to lean towards long-term relationships with women who baby him (your words, not his).  He scoffs when you call him a serial monogamist, insists he isn’t even as you list out all the facts pointing otherwise.

“I just… don’t like wasting my time,”  he insists from behind his coffee cup.  

“You mean you don’t like the potential to be hurt.”  

Jungkook blinks at you then, Bambi eyes so big and bright you almost want to laugh.  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”  He seems confused - as if his reasoning is solid, irrefutable. 

“High risk, high reward, Jungkookie.”  It’s something your father had taught you years ago, the crazy old sap.  It’s probably why he’s had three divorces since you were seven years old, but you suppose it’s worked out for him now.  He’s been happily married for the last ten years - the longest relationship he’s ever had.  Youngin is good for him, though.  You like her - even if you sometimes wish she weren’t young enough to be your older sister and not his wife.

“You say that a lot.”

“I mean it when I say it.”

He’s quiet then, shoving a corner of his croissant past his lips.  When he speaks - starts to, anyway - his mouth is still full and you level him with a look that silences him until all traces of the pastry are gone.  “Girls are scary.”

You laugh.  Cackle, really.  You can’t help it.  He says it with a pout, the expression so utterly at odds with the offensively revealing shirt he wears, the smooth unblemished skin of his chest almost too much for such a quiet afternoon.  He glares at you across the table, shoves another piece of the flaky golden treat into his mouth, and waits for you to speak.  He knows you’re going to give him a piece of your mind because you always do, rebuffing 99% of the things he says.  (Sometimes for fun, often with good intentions.)

“Heights are scary.  Death is scary.  Leaving your wallet at home when you’re low on gas is scary—”

“Don’t you have Apple Pa—”

“Don’t interrupt.”  He clamps his lips shut, folding his arms across his chest.  From anyone else, it’d be a defensive gesture;  from him, it’s patient.  “Girls aren’t scary.  Having real feelings for people is scary, but that doesn’t mean you should just stay with people who don’t deserve you.” 

“Not all of us have cheater-sniffing noses.”  

You suppose he’s right but the fact still remains that he’s too nice for his own good.  Too trusting, too lenient, too blind to all the red flags.  Like he’s living life in greyscale. 

“Well, that’s what you have me for.”

The look Jungkook gives you then is incredulous, screwing his pretty face up as if he’s about to sneeze.  Instead, he laughs.  “I’m not hopeless.”

“Oh, but you are.”  You’re adamant, insistent.  He’s more comfortable with you now - sometimes teases you in a way you’d never have expected weeks ago - but he’s still so soft.  An absolute marshmallow dressed in designer duds, a heart of gold wrapped up in a bubble gum package.  

You want to protect him, teach him to fly.  Be his wingwoman until he’s soaring the skies on his own.  

You know it’s not his pride that keeps him from saying yes.  He doesn’t have an abundance of that, far too gracious to ever deny help when he really needs it.  He’s just shy, doesn’t know what he wants until it’s staring him right in the face.  

“Fine,”  he agrees after you’ve stared at him for too long.  It’s one of his weaknesses - his inability to handle attention when it’s laser-focused.  It makes him sweat, prompts his nervous habit of chewing at his bottom lip, long fingers picking at the peach fuzz on his cheeks.

“You won’t regret it.”

Jeon Jungkook has gone on six dates over the last ten days.  You know, because you’ve helped him pick out outfits for each of them, seated at the edge of his bed with your knees folded and a bag of white cheddar popcorn in your grubby little paws.

It’s not that he isn’t stylish - you both know he is - but there’s a certain finesse to dressing for dates, to knowing the likes and dislikes of your potential partner and playing to those.  

He, to no one's surprise, does not have this finesse.  If it were up to him, he’d wear his favourite clothes every day, different jeans and joggers in medium-wash denim and impossibly soft cotton.  He’d swap his Balenciaga separates in and out and stick with the finely tailored Gucci suit he calls his lucky ticket (ew).  He’d live in those stupid two-toned sneakers and barely do his hair, allowing it to become a powder puff reminiscent of old Hollywood movies.

The girls would probably still love it.  (It’s easy to love him.)

“What do you think?”  It’s low-cut black, relaxed in the shoulders and flattering in the torso.  It holds him just right, hugging the muscle that threads across his shoulders like armour, coils around his upper arms and makes his tattoos stand in stark relief where the sleeves end, mid-forearm. 

It looks good— but then again, a lot of things look good on him.  He wants great.

You answer honestly, because that’s what you do and that’s what he has you there for.  To knock him down when his (admittedly small) ego gets a little too big, remind him of his hubris like the summer sun upon his candle wax wings.  “Not bad…”

You don’t even need to finish the thought for him to be tugging the shirt over his head, back flexed, ink-strewn fingers gripping the hem.  

Not for the first time, you’re reminded of just how unfair life is. 

How had Jungkook - bona fide dork, certifiable shy guy - been gifted one of the best bodies in human existence?  (You wish you were joking.)  It was utterly absurd, a complete waste on someone who’d only learnt to utilise his good looks in the last five months you’d known him.  

“This one?”  He’s grabbing another hanger, all but thrusting it into your face.  Medium-weight cashmere.  Probably too hot for a night like tonight but you’ve seen it on him before and it hugs him like a lover, displaying his best assets (titties) and drawing attention to the narrow shape of his waist.  It’s the equivalent of a little black dress.

“Look at you go,”  you tease, mouth full of mirth and popcorn kernels.  “Throw that Juun.J trench you have overtop and you’ll be set.”

Jungkook nods sagely, as if your word is law.  You suppose it is.

“Thanks, ____,.”  He says it in that sweet way of his, eyes lost to the weight of his gratitude.  

Your response is a shrug.  “Bring me back some dessert and we’ll be even.”  You don’t know where he’s going tonight but you figure it’s one of the many restaurants you’d recommended earlier in the week when he’d started lining up his various dates.  You know there’ll be something good on the menu.  

He promises he will as he slides the turtleneck on, tucking it into the dark trousers he’d picked up days ago, and redoes the slim black Rag & Bone belt around his waist.  You have to admit - you’ve done another great job of styling him.  Simple yet painstakingly attractive, playing at all the little bits of Jungkook’s best qualities without outlining them in bright red ink.  Understated but elegant, effortless yet seriously hot.  

Maybe you should quit your day job and become the female Hitch.  That was a viable plan, right?

You’re mulling it over when you realise your walking Ken doll is making toward his bedroom door, wallet clasped in one hand and phone in the other.  “Hey!  You’re leaving already?”  It’s polite surprise that colours your words, stare drawn to the screen of your iPhone.  It’s only 6 PM and the reservation isn’t for another hour.

There’s a sheepish look creeping over his features, painting itself in delicate strokes that you spy past the line of his smile, how the skin crinkles around his eyes.  For a moment, he’s the shy Jungkook you’d met in your store and not the one that now bleeds careful confidence, filling his little black book (read: phone contacts) with names as easily as he breathes.  “I was, uh, going to stop and get f-flowers.”  A silver-lined hand scrubs across his nape, dislodges the carefully styled waves he’s settled for.

Flowers, huh?  Well, that’s certainly something new.  Good for him, you think. 

“Jeon Jungkook, going all out.”  It’s heavy on the teasing, playful mockery lending a warmth to your words.  “She’s special.”

Which you’d figured, given he was seeing her.  Repeats were rare for him now that he’d learned how to weed out the bad seeds, held his hand a little closer to his heart (at least, sometimes).  Since he’d started dating again, this would be the first time he’d be going on a second date.  It’s a big deal. 

“Yeah—“  Nervousness sparks across his face, lights up his stare like the stars in the night sky.  “I guess she is.”

You smile fondly, like a proud mother.  “Go get ‘em, tiger.”  

“I will,”  he promises, looking so giddy it makes your heart swell ten sizes.  

You don’t even think anything of it as you follow him out of his room, bag of popcorn neatly rolled under your arm and your socks slid back into place.  It’s only when he levels you with a strange stare, pauses in the shrugging on of his coat, that you return his look.  “What?”

“Where are you going?”

“Leaving?”  

“Why?”

Wasn’t that the million dollar question?  

You don’t normally leave, usually waiting here at home for him until he returns to give you a rundown of his date (and the promised appetizer/dessert/whatever).  It feels somehow wrong to stay, though, as if you’re taking up space that doesn’t belong to you.  He’s going on a second date, after all.  Soon enough, he won’t need your help picking out clothes or deciding on a restaurant.  You won’t get to curl up on your usual corner of his sectional, wrapped up in the obnoxiously soft blanket you’d convinced him to buy one night while online shopping.

But it’s fine.  Totally, one hundred and ten percent fine.  The two of you are friends.  You’d always expected - anticipated, hoped - this day would come.  Baby boy was growing up. 

“Y’know.”  You answer a second too late and he’s still wearing that odd expression, handsome face flooded with something that looks like disappointment.  It flickers in the bits of his stare you can make out past his fringe, partially concealed by the dark silk that you know feels as soft as it looks.

“I know?”  He never tries to read your mind - knows it’s utterly useless.  

You wiggle your hand dismissively.  “Second date and all that.”  

Jungkook giggles - the same deceptively sweet sound he always makes - and finishes tugging his jacket on.  It fits him so well it should be illegal, falling to his knees and ending just shy of the intricate laces of his boots.  “Just stick around.  I’ll drive you home when I get back.”

It’s something he always does - his way of saying thank you for putting up with all of his first date jitters, his outfit changes, his worrying over how to first approach a girl on Tinder - so you don’t doubt him.  “Fine.  I’ll stay.”

He beams, caught halfway out the door.  “Tell me to break a leg.”

“Go break her back,”  you retort to the sound of his laughter.

You’re almost asleep when your phone starts going off, the vibrations jolting you awake.  It rattles across the glass table, won’t shut the hell up until you’re slamming your hand atop it, glaring at the screen as it lights up with notifications.

It’s almost 2 AM and they’re from Jungkook.  This can only mean one thing.

from jeon jungkook:  Hey. from jeon jungkook:  I’m really sorry but I won’t be home tonight. from jeon jungkook:  If you want to stay over, I can drive you back in the morning. from jeon jungkook:  Please don’t be mad.

Leave it to him to apologise for getting his dick wet - to feel bad about having a successful second date.  It makes you laugh as you stare down at the texts, tap a quick response you know will have his heart racing.  (Even after months of friendship, it’s hard not to tease him just a little bit.)

to jeon jungkook:  i officially hate you

The typing notification gives him away immediately, but the moment you do the same, he stops.  Of course.  He hates confrontation - would rather leap off a cliff-face than deal with negative emotions.  (He’d told you that once, over a night of beer and fried tteok.)

to jeon jungkook:  it’s fine!  have fun! to jeon jungkook:  turn her world upside down 😏

He doesn’t answer after that but the read receipt pops up.  Good, you think.  About time he finds someone nice.  You wonder what she’ll be like when you meet her.  

Jungkook’s third date comes with another third - you.

He drags you along to dinner, insisting there’s nothing at all weird about the fact.  He has to repeat it at least four times during the drive there, head nodding like a plastic bobblehead as he weaves in and out of traffic. 

“I want you to meet her,”  he mumbles, like that makes it better.  As if bringing a friend along to a date with that reasoning means it’s totally acceptable and not on the list of Hard No’s When Dating.

“Don’t you think that’s kind of weird?”  He’s too focused on changing lanes to answer you, signalling before seamlessly drifting over.  (He’s an impressively responsible driver, but that’s unsurprising.)  You repeat yourself.

“It’s not… weird.”  But you have a feeling that he knows how odd the request is.  Knows and doesn’t care, unfortunately.  “She wants to meet you too.”

(When had Jungkook turned into this person who argued with you?)

You somehow highly doubt that.  No girl in her right mind would leap at the chance to meet her potential beau’s wingwoman.  It’s something reserved for official status, when the foundation is set.  Still, you play into his hand, level him with a stare he should recognise.  It’s the one you throw his way any time he’s too nice, gives a mile when he shouldn’t even offer an inch.  (It doesn’t come as often anymore, but it still makes appearances once in a while.)  

“What does she even know about me?”

“That we’re friends.”  His vague response speaks volumes.  The look changes - grows into a glare that has him furtively peeking at you from the corner of his periphery.  When he speaks, it feels like a dead giveaway.  “That I really value your opinion.”

You groan, a noise so loud it rattles around in the car and interrupts the ballad playing through the speakers.

“She’s trying to figure out if I’m competition or not!”  Of course.  It’s obvious.  She wants to know what she’s getting into it before things get too serious, determine if her Prince Charming is really all that.  (He is.)  “I’m not coming to dinner.”  

“You’re already in the car,”  he reasons.  

You note he doesn’t deny your first statement, mouth rounding into a pout that should crush your resolve.  Instead, it drives you mad, irritation bubbling in your throat.

“I just won’t go in.”

“____,.”  When he says it like that, it’s hard to deny him.  Jungkook might not utilise his charms often but when he does, it’s lethal.  Undeniable with those dumb Bambi eyes of his.

“No.”

“____,,”  he repeats, almost pleading.  You can’t look at him.  You won’t.  The moment you do, you’ll be sucked into the swirling vortex that makes up his stare - a million pretty little lights caught in the brown of his iris, so many possibilities you’d lose yourself trying to explore them all.

You last a whole ten seconds before his staring becomes too much, those round eyes tracking you in the rearview mirror until you’re relenting, softening in the way that only he can cause. 

“Fine.”  You hate how it sounds rolling off your tongue, terse and a little pissed off.  You’re not actually mad.  Just worried.  You’ve seen situations like this play out - not that you’ve been in this position before - but female friends and potential girlfriends just don’t go hand-in-hand.  It takes a very special kind of person to facilitate a meeting this early and you are not that person.  You’re ragged edges, uneven temperament, distrust that you can’t help.

Jungkook knows that.  Should, anyway.  You’ve grown close over the last nearly half a year.  

When he mumbles a quiet sorry, turns to rest his chin against his knuckles as he drives, you know he means it.  He’d never put you in this position if it didn’t mean a lot to him - if his own happiness wasn’t somehow also on the line.  (Truthfully, it’s your fault.  All that self-love encouragement was coming back to bite you in the ass.)

You grumble an obligatory acceptance as the streetlights fly by.  You’ve got a reputation to uphold. 

“You’re paying for my dinner.”

“Of course.”

How many times have you pictured this same situation, watched it unfold on your television screen as the protagonist gasps wildly, hand at their throat?  How many times have you laughed at the exchange, snickering into your palm as the romantic interest makes some wild declaration of love and wins the protagonist’s heart?

Answer:  you’ve lost count.

Still, it doesn’t prepare you to be thrust beneath the spotlight, half-dreaming and terribly confused.  

“What’re you doing here?”  At any other time, it might be as reproachful as you want, full of disapproval and sleepiness.  Here and now, it’s slurred speech and the lines of your pillow dug into the softness of your cheek, lashes dusted with sleep and breath freshly minted.

Jungkook’s oddly surprised, considering he’s appeared unannounced at your doorstep at the crack of dawn (not really).  “C-can I come in?”

You don’t budge.  It’s not because you’re about to say no, but because you’re still really tired.  So tired you stare at him for a moment too long, zoning out as you drink in his appearance.  He’s wearing the clothes from last night - the same animal-print silk shirt that hangs obscenely low and reveals too much skin.  You recognise it because you’d picked it out for his date.  

(The one where he was supposed to ask Jiwon to be his girlfriend, you fail to note.)  

You repeat yourself around a yawn, ignoring the way your vowels crash into each other and barely make it to the light of day.  “What’re you doing, Jungkookie?”

“Please let me in,”  the doe-eyed prince at your door mumbles, gaze bouncing somewhere beyond your shoulder, over your face, to the wayward strands that’re the result of sleeping too well.  Everywhere but your eyes.

“Fine,”  you huff, stepping back to allow him over the threshold.  You don’t miss the way he smells - his signature cologne and something else.  If you had to guess, it’s her perfume.  It’s distinctly floral, drawing you into a garden of roses.  You don’t know if you like it.

Without a second glance, you’re shuffling away from him, dragging your slippered feet into the kitchen.  

You move on autopilot, spooning coffee grounds into the Chemex filter.  You don’t bother asking whether your surprise guest wants any - assume he does, because the fiend somehow lives on caffeine - and settle against the counter as you wait for your kettle to whistle.

You’re still so tired you feel like you might fall asleep standing up but you think you do a good enough job of levelling Jungkook with a solid stare.  “So?”

“W-what?”  

It’s been so long since you’ve last heard his stutter that it surprises you, recentres your attention from your own exhaustion and has you frowning.  Something’s happened.  Must have.  There’s no other explanation for it - for how he looks at you, so uncertain like all those months ago when you’d smashed his glass house to pieces.

“What’s going on?”  You’re demanding, full to the brim with concern as you round on him.  He flinches away as if your words have burnt him, leaning into the stainless steel side of your fridge.  

(Silly Jungkook - that won’t protect you.)

“What do you mean?”

The early hour has, luckily, dampened your usual aggression.  He’s stalling, you can tell.  You hate when he does this.  You tell him as much, glowering at him as he tries to shrink his nearly six foot frame into something small.  “You’ve showed up at my house unannounced.  What do you mean ‘what do I mean’?”

He looks as if he’s on the brink of repeating himself, biting it back behind his neat white teeth when your expression grows darker, more frustrated.

It’s impossible to stay dressed in red, lethargy swathing you up like a cocoon and softening your edges.  You sigh heavily - perhaps a little overdramatically - and go about completing your coffee ritual.  Patience works best with Jungkook, you’ve learned.  (Though, he sorely tests your own sometimes.)

With a steaming mug in your hand and the other passed over to him, you gesture toward your living room.

He nods once - a small up and down of his head.  

“So.”  You try again, softer this time, warmed by the heat that permeates ceramic and settles your sleep-ravaged nerves.  You’re seated cross-legged on your couch, facing him with your back pressed to the arm rest.  He’s half-turned to you, coffee cup slotted between his thighs.  Feet turned in, mouth wobbling with the intensity of how hard he’s chewing into his bottom lip.

“I couldn’t do it.”  The words rush out too fast, tumble into each other in such a way you have to take a second to comprehend what he’s said.  Couldn’t do… it?

You stare at each other for a long while, you trying to understand and him refusing to meet your stare.  

When realisation dawns on you, you can only imagine how you look.  It must be terrifying by how Jungkook practically tries to crawl into the cushions of your couch, shoulders rising around his ears like a turtle.

“You didn’t ask her?”  It explodes out, a question that demands an answer. 

He’s staring past your head, unblinking.  You’d almost worry he was a robot if his voice weren’t so damned human, full of melancholy and rounded by his lisp.  “I c-couldn’t.  It was just…”  The shrug he offers is half-assed at best, not nearly good enough to excuse him.

“Just what?”  

“Just—”  There’s the wiggly hand gesture you do that he’s adopted, his ink-strewn hand waving through the air like a floppy chicken foot.  He thinks it’ll earn him a pass but your unrelenting glare indicates otherwise.  He deflates, hand falling back to his lap, clutching his mug like it's a makeshift security blanket.  “It didn’t feel right.”

What did that even mean?  Feel right?  

Love didn’t just appear, fully-formed and complete.  It took work and dedication and the understanding it could all come crashing down.  Didn’t he understand that?  Hadn’t you drilled that into his head?

You exhale through gritted teeth, push breath past enamel that acts like a solid steel gate.  

“Jungkook, it’s not going to just ‘feel right.’”  You’re air quoting, all tact thrown out the window.  “You like her, don’t you?”

You expect him to nod immediately.  He doesn’t. 

“Jungkook.”

“Yeah?” 

“You like her, right?”  

“I think so.”

You want to tear your own hair out.  Instead, you press the pads of your fingers into your temple - apply pressure in hopes of alleviating the tension that settles there.  “So, you like her.”  It feels a bit bad, condescending in a way;  you don’t mean it in any way but supportive.  You just want him to be happy.  “But you couldn’t ask her out because it didn’t feel right?”

“She’s not you.”  

He’s looking at you now, looks like he might have a heart attack if he does so any longer.  But he doesn’t tear his gaze away when you meet it, entire expression warped into something you don’t recognise.  Hope, maybe?  Fear?   

“What?”  You wish it were hard rather than feather light, almost lost to the cacophony in your head.

The hollow of his cheek is thrown into stark relief, the line of his jaw clenched tight.  He repeats himself even as you’re the one looking away, shaking your head as if that might will away the irksome answer.  (It won’t.)

“Don’t say things like that.”  

It’s hurt that flashes through his expression and strikes you right in the centre of your chest.  His face crumbles, brows knit together beneath his mop of shiny hair.  He looks so terribly sad - a kicked puppy, an abandoned deer.  Bambi, through and through.

“You asked why I didn’t do it,”  he reasons in a voice far more solid than he looks.

“I didn’t think you’d say something so ridiculous.”  It’s cruel.  “You’re making a bad choice.  You’re into this girl.  Don’t be dumb.”

His features rearrange, then so do his limbs, entire body lifting from his seat in jerky, disjointed movements.  “I’m not dumb.”  There’s a reproachful quality to his words, a distaste he doesn’t bother to mask.  It’s not something you’ve ever faced, surprising you enough to draw your eyes to his face.  

He doesn’t look like the Jungkook you know.  

When he leaves - sets his cup in the sink and storms out the way he’d come before you have time to stop him - you wonder if you ever knew him at all.

“Okay.  Spill.”

Yejin’s tired of your abrasiveness, tired of having her head bitten off every time she tries to approach you with a question.  You can’t blame her.  You’ve felt like shit the last week, sleep-deprived and generally pissed off.  

All because of a doe-eyed idiot.  

“What?”  It’s less snark, more sigh.  You’re counting down the minutes until you’re free, until you can curl back up in your bed and try to sleep like you’ve done the last four days.  

“What’s going on with you?”  

“Nothing.”  

“Bullshit,”  she hums, trailing after you as you move behind the counter.  “You’ve been in a bad mood all week.  I’ve never seen you this upset like, ever.”  She’s right, of course.  You’ve always been very careful to keep business separate, pushing the customer service agenda no matter what.  “Did something happen?”  

You grit your teeth.  An expletive careens off your tongue when you slam the tip of your finger within the drawer you’d just shut.

“____,”  she tries again, concerned.  

“Nothing happened.”

“See, I don’t believe that because like, look at you!”  She gesticulates wildly, adorned wrists clinking loudly.  “You look like hell—”

“Thanks.”

“—and you’re being clumsy and like, I think I know you well enough.  So just tell me?”

You hate that she’s right.  It doesn’t mean you’ll relent, too caught up in your own strange brand of strength to unload.  (Maybe it’d be helpful.  Probably.  But you’ve never found comfort in other people.  At least, not like this.)

“Yejin.”  Her name stops her in her tracks, hurried and insistent as you pull your coat on.  “It’s fine.  Really.”  You’re swallowing your pride - practically choking on it - as you offer what you hope is a reassuring smile.  “I just need to get some sleep.”  And figure out what the hell to do about Jungkook, but that’s a can of worms you refuse to open and certainly not here.

Maybe at home, over a glass of wine, fueled by liquid courage.  

The bottle of Côtes du Rhône has aided you more than you’d hoped, offered an armour that slinks over your shoulders and drives your fingers to action.  It’s prompted something - started the ball rolling.

(Idly, you think that might not have been a very good idea, but it’s too late to care now.)

“You’re here.”  You being him and him being Jeon Jungkook, hair damp and imposing frame draped in an oversized sweater.  He looks terribly uncomfortable standing in your doorway - more so than he had days ago - hands shoved into the kangaroo pouch of his hoodie, dumb sneakers pigeon-toed as if he’s ready to take flight.

“Y-you asked,”  he mutters, refusing to meet your stare.  At least, you think he’s refusing.  It’s a little hard to focus when there’s this fine film turning everything hazy, the bitter taste of wine heavy on your tongue.  

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

He looks at you like you’re crazy then, though he never quite meets your eyes.  It’s a smart tactic - level you with a look then immediately bounce it away.  It has you coming back for more, eager to refocus his fretful gaze until it’s locked with your own.

“Will you come in?”  You sidestep, give him enough space that he can enter without feeling suffocated.  He still hesitates, takes a second too long in deciding.  “I won’t bite.”

You don’t miss the better promise that comes under his breath.

“So.”  This feels oddly familiar, him backed into the corner of your couch again while you settle across from him.  He hums a noise but offers nothing further.  

This is how it’ll be then.  Fine.  If he wants to be this way.

“You like me.”

He sputters - doesn’t mean to, by how big his eyes go.  He hadn’t expected it to come barreling out of your mouth.  “I—  I don’t—  I didn’t say that.” 

If it were anyone but him, you’d take his reticence as rudeness.  

“Tell me why.”

The poor boy blinks, stares at you full on now.  Can’t look away, locked in the intensity of your stare.  

“W-what?”

“Tell me.”  You sip carefully at the liquid in your glass, swirl it ‘round and ‘round.  “You said that girl wasn’t me but you haven’t made a case as to why that matters.  What have I got that she doesn’t?”  

“You’re serious?”  

“As a heart attack, Jungkookie.”

The brunet swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion.  You think he might say no, outright refuse.  You don’t expect him to start rattling things off like the list lives in his head, answers printed against the darks of his eyelids.  

“You’re funny.  You’re honest.  You speak your mind.”  You don’t mean to scoff but his reasons are so shallow - so easily found in other people.  He must read the doubt in your expression, pushing on to cut you off from doing the same to him.  “Y-you care about people even when you pretend like you don’t.  You’re just as scared of being hurt as I am.”  

For the first time in a long time - in years and years - you feel seen.  As if he’s pulled back the cover of your unpublished draft, memorised the redlines and notes in the margins.  

“I don’t—”

“You have this face you make when you’re proud of me.”  He’s turning his own fingers over in his lap, knuckles white from the strain of locking them together and undoing them again.  “When I do something you approve of or when I make you laugh.”  

There’s something thick in your throat.  

“You make me want to try.”  He clears his own, speaks so softly you have to strain to hear it.  “Y-you make things not so scary.”  

It grows heavier, harder to breathe as you stare at the man sitting across from you.  He’s focused wholly on his hands, too caught up in his words to help the way he plucks at his skin, fiddles with the silver chain that loops around his wrist.

“You know what I need, even before I know myself.  You make me laugh.”  He laughs, an almost choked sound that fizzles and rattles bashfully. “You look really, really good in your work skirt.”  You know the one he means - all black, pencil-fit.  Makes your legs look a mile long, despite the fact that they aren’t.  

You can’t help but join him, a little breathless, with a strange sensation behind your ribs.  Like sunshine on a cold day, filtering past the walls you’ve put up, streaming through the windows that’d replaced drywall when Jungkook had waltzed into your life with his fluffy hair and boyish laugh.

When you speak, you don’t even believe your own words.  They come of their own accord - a defense mechanism.  “I can’t.”

As if he knows - as if he’s got a polygraph going, Jungkook shakes his head, meets your eyes and holds you there with the intensity of his attention.  “Can’t or won’t?”

“I—”

“I’m not asking for the world here.  Just a chance.”  He’s got a peculiar look on his face.  “Don’t you think you owe it to me?”

“Excuse me?” 

All of a sudden, he’s close.  Closer than you’d expect, far closer than he should be.  There’s nothing beyond his expression, the way his eyes twinkle under the dimmed apartment lights as he stares you down.  The scent of his cologne is cloying now, the fading nectarine hint of his shampoo making your mouth water.  

“You kind of ruined my life.  I think this makes us fair.”

You sputter, gasp, make sounds that careen off your tongue and fill the air with nonsense.  You’d ruined his life?  (You’d made it better - made him see the light, you thought.)  You’re working to find your voice, ready to tear into him for this abrupt accusation.

Then he’s giggling, nose scrunched and delight filtering past his teeth.  

“I’m kidding.”  

It feels like whiplash.  You’ve created a monster.  

“But you do owe me, I think.  So why not?”

You only have yourself to blame when you say yes, conceding to his pretty eyes and sweet smile.

Dating Jungkook is easy - as effortless as breathing.  He’s a bona fide dreamboat plucked from your wildest dreams. 

He texts when he says he will and picks you up every night, stamping a kiss to your cheek the moment you’ve clocked out.  He holds your hand and refuses to let go, rubbing soothing circles over your wrist when you’re tired or stressed or annoyed.  He brings flowers to every date - insists on them even when you tell him they’re a waste of money.  He knows your coffee order, has learned the art of the pour over when he wakes up before you.  

You understand now, why he’d stayed with women who were terrible for him (to him).  If you were them, you wouldn’t have let him go either.  Would lock him up in an old tower like your own personal Rapunzel.

(You say that because you’ve been on a Disney movie binge.  He is, unsurprisingly, very into these sorts of things.)

“Open it,”  he pleads, pushing the luxurious pink box towards you.

You stare down at the lid, the Agent Provocateur label glaring back at you.  You can’t help how you laugh, sound bouncing around his bedroom.  “Are you trying to tell me something, Jungkookie?”

Your lover - not boyfriend, because you haven’t had the talk and it’s still new and you’ve never been this careful before - rolls his eyes, pushes the box closer with a huff.  It’s adorable.  

“Just open it.”

You finger the soft bow strapped across the top, play with the neatly cut ends.  You can feel the impatience radiating off Jungkook, feel those pretty doe eyes boring holes into the top of your head.  You take your time even more now, unravelling the ribbon with slow, measured twists of your wrist.  

Whatever you’d expected to find nestled among the tissue paper, this isn’t it.  

You’d imagined he’d be into something feminine, all pristine white lace and scalloped cups.  Something he could brush his cheek against, run his fingers over.  

Tucked within the box is something that doesn’t even earn the title of lingerie, a few flimsy straps bonded together.  Blush pink satin and dressed with buckles, you turn it over in your hands, trying to make sense of the way it all connects.  Surely there’s more to this.  Surely, darling innocent Jeon Jungkook doesn’t expect you to wear just this?

“Do you like it?”  You can sense the eagerness in his voice, that desire he has to please that seems to never go away.  

“What is it?”

“It’s a playsuit.”  

“A playsuit?”  You’re no stranger to experimenting in the bedroom but this— this looks like it’s meant to harness a dog in.  Would it even fit?  Soft as it is, it seems terribly restrictive, made for someone with model proportions and no body fat at all.

He nods, round eyes so bright, so hopeful, you can’t voice your concerns.  “Will you wear it?”

It fits you better than you’d expected.  Or at least, you think it does.  If Jungkook’s reaction was any indication, it’s heaven sent - the perfect gift wrapping for a present he’s been dying to claim. 

The buckles you’d studied earlier - that had taken you too long to strap together - dig into the tender flesh of your hips, the shape of his fingers imprinted along the metal.  He grips you so tight you think you might bruise, left with a reminder of his love for weeks.

“S-so wet,”  he groans, sound dropping into an almost whine as the swollen mushroom head of his cock brushes through your folds.  The satin of the playsuit has been long since tugged aside, stained with your arousal as it cuts into the softness of your thighs.  He repeats the motion once, twice, coats your clit in pre-cum that leaks out of the slit and adds another layer of slick.  “So ready for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

You nod dumbly, drool around the two fingers he’s got slotted against your cheek, ring finger pressed down over your tongue.  

“Use your words, gorgeous.”  As if you can, as if you’re not riding the high of your last orgasm and about to come apart beneath his playful teasing.

The palm of his hand meets your overstimulated clit with a sharp smack, the cold of his teeth bared against your neck.  He doesn’t like when you don’t answer - much prefers to make an effort even if it’s indiscernible.

“What did I say?”  

Something garbled comes, a plea as much as a sob.  Another hit lands, just shy of the pearl that throbs with need and pain, landing instead on the sensitive, already red skin of your inner thigh.  He soothes it this time around, massages your own wetness into the roses that bloom beneath his touch.

When he speaks again, it’s so utterly sweet, tender as can be.  The Jungkook you’ve known for months and not the devil in disguise.  

“You like this, don’t you?”  His kisses are searing, laced with reverence that feels at odds with the way he forces your gag reflex, taps his curved cock against your pussy.  “You like what I’m doing?”

“Y-yes,”  you cry, spit pooling past the sides of your mouth, dripping lewdly across your breasts.  The hand cradling your chin is all but drenched, dark ink thrown into stark relief by the way it slides over his skin.  Jungkook hums against your cheek, licks a fat stripe from shoulder to ear.  

“Good girl.”  Two fingers spread across over your heat, pointer and index sliding over your lips.  You’re spread obscenely - can see it in the mirror that rests against the far wall.  Can see how the head of his cock peeks between your thighs, runs the same path over and over with each languid, slow roll of his hips.  “Such a good girl for me.  My perfect girl.”

Your shoulders shake with the effort you put into nodding, throat clenching on reflex when the three fingers in your mouth flatten over your tongue, hold you steady in place.

“Pretty girl wants more, doesn’t she?  Wants me to fill her up?”

He’s teasing you, the bastard.  Dragging his aching erection against your cunt as you writhe against him, desperate.  It’s amusing to him - you can read the delight in the reflection, see it shining bright like a beacon when he pulls his hand away and recentres it across your chest.  Digits tease at the already pebbled buds, swollen and sensitive from how hard he’d sucked them into his mouth earlier.

“Say it.  Say you want me.”

You do, without hesitation, without fear.  You know he’ll catch you.  “I want you.”  

He sinks into you the same instant the words fall, holds you tight against him when your entire body begins buzzing and threatens to do the same.  Your walls feel like a vice grip around him, greedily sucking in his cock as he slams home, ruts into you like a wild animal.  

Strong as he is, he’s weak to the noises you make - the broken sobs that spill off your tongue and make up the prettiest sound he’s ever heard - and how you feel absolutely perfect, wet and warm.  The muscle in his thighs strain, pleasure vibrating up the notches of his spine, setting every nerve ending alight with its ascent.

“B-be mine,”  he returns, practically begging as he spreads you wide, making you take everything he has to offer.  Heart and soul and stupidly huge, perfect cock.

“I am.  I am.  I am,”  you chant, tears welling along your lash line.  They fall when his rhythm stutters, when the heat overwhelms and you’re coming for the third time that night, crying his name like it’s the only word you know.  

They continue to pour, carve trails down your reddened cheeks as you reach nirvana, wait for moment he’s right there with you.  It doesn’t take long - a few more punishing thrusts into your fluttering heat - and then he’s found his bliss, crying into the silk of your hair, spilling inside you. 

It doesn’t happen how you thought it would - a shy question poised over dinner, sealed with a sweet kiss on the way to the car - but it means just as much.  Breaks you apart as it rebuilds you, fills you up as it splits your seams.

You’re his and he’s always been yours. 

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle @shaybtsforever @we-found-wonderland-in-1989 @justanothergirlfromeurope @jalexad @bonnyskies @coffeeismylife28 @haeilove @purplespaceymermaid @sunsetsnsirens-blog @beingbeings​ @veronawrites​ @notmontae97​ @papillonsgf​ i’m really hoping i didn’t miss anyone e___e

#goldenclosetnet #magicshopnet #ficswithluv #thebtswritersclub #networkbangtan #heartsforbts #bts #bts au #bts imagine #bts fic #bts oneshot #bts angst #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook oneshot #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #work.zip #oneshot.zip #devil.doc #jungkook.doc

[inadaydream99]

The One Where You Can’t Be Kept Apart

A/N - Thank you 🥕anon for sending in this request and another brilliant idea! I really hope you enjoy what I have come up with ☺️ Also, I was unsure with how to end it, so it took me a little longer to write than usual 😂

Disclaimer: This is inspired by the Friends episode ‘The One With the Memorial Service’ and is in no way my own original idea. I have also used some direct quotes from the episode for the purpose of keeping some fidelity towards the plot.

You huff, folding your arms across your chest as Soobin begins to interrogate you. He’s only been at yours for a few minutes and you’re already tired of him. You get that he’s trying to look out for you and do as you asked of him; which he’s taking incredibly seriously. But is it really necessary for him to pay you a visit sporadically, just to see if he can catch you out?

It’s like he doesn’t trust you. Not that you blame him really, I mean you’ve just broken up with the love of your life, Yeonjun, and asked Soobin to make sure you don’t have any contact with him because you don’t trust yourself to keep away. But just because you have very little self control when it comes to Yeonjun, doesn’t mean that you need to be watched so often.

It’s been about two weeks since you and Yeonjun broke up after being happily together for just over a year. The reason being that you both realised you wanted different things for your future. Things that, even after much debate, neither of you were willing to compromise on.

It had always been your dream to fall in love with your soulmate and get married. Ever since you were little you’d indulge in your fantasy and act out these magical weddings with your friends. You, of course, always played the bride.

Now, Yeonjun has never been opposed to the idea of marriage. He just doesn’t see the point in having this big, expensive wedding. In his opinion it’s a waste of time and money. He would just be happy to elope.

And that’s the main issue that broke you up. You’d been so distraught over the idea of not having the wedding of your dreams, and Yeonjun stubborn in his views, that you’d come to the agreement that if you can’t agree on this then you’re not meant for each other.

From the second he received the news from you crying down the phone, Soobin had barely left your side. He’s been the most amazing friend to you and done everything he can to help you through this break up. And that’s exactly why you feel guilty for finding him annoying right now.

“I know you’re hiding something (Y/N).” Soobin mumbles, more so to himself than to you, but you hear him clearly none the less. “Who’s shoes are these?” He suddenly quizzes you, holding up a pair of dirty black trainers. Ok, so they aren’t the most fashionable shoes ever, but they are comfy and you have lost any motivation to put effort into your appearance right now. All you can seem to focus on is your heartbreak.

“They’re mine.” You deadpan, your sensitivity making it difficult to not be offended. And Soobin really should have known better because if he’d taken a second longer to look at the shoes he’d realise that they are too small to belong to Yeonjun.

“Oh, sorry.” He utters softly, placing the shoes neatly by the front door once again. You watch as he snoops his way around your apartment, in and out of rooms unsatisfied with his lack of finding anything.

That is, until a knock on your front door sounds. You casually make a stand from the sofa where you had previously been slouched, still sulking over Soobin’s insult over your shoes.

“Wait! I’ll get it.” Soobin calls out to you, hurrying past you. He practically pushes you away from the door; not that he intends to, he’s just oblivious to his actions in the moment.

“It’s just the takeout I ordered.” You sigh, throwing your hands up defensively.

Soobin shoots you a frown before turning the handle and swinging the door open.

“Oh my, what are the chances!” You pretend to be shocked, hands flying up to cover your mouth upon the disappointed look Soobin sends you when the door reveals Yeonjun. “7 billion people in the world and they send Yeonjun to deliver my food!” You continue, hoping that you sound believable enough. Though it’s unlikely with the way your best friend has been doubting you from the very second you asked him to help you keep away from Yeonjun.

Soobin simply rolls his eyes at your terrible acting, turning expectantly to look at Yeonjun for an explanation to his presence.

“I’m sorry, but when (Y/N) called I just couldn’t keep away.” His head hangs low, ashamed of his weakness for you… and for getting caught.

“How’d you even call him?” Soobin gawks at you, seriously confused as to how you found a way to contact Yeonjun without having access to a phone. Yes, Soobin had confiscated it first chance he got. But you have to admit that the time away from your phone has been quite nice.

“FaceTime on IPad.” You mumble sulkily, reluctantly admitting how you’d managed to go behind Soobin’s back. You’d hidden it from him so your parents could at least contact you if they needed… or so you’d convinced yourself.

“iPad, of course! I should have known.” Soobin shakes his head, scolding himself for not having realised sooner.

“Soobin, if (Y/N) and I want to see each other, then we should be allow-”

“This doesn’t concern you Yeonjun.” Soobin interjects Yeonjun’s justification. It’s not that he wants to be rude to Yeonjun, or that he doesn’t like him, it’s just that if he allows this then he’s failed at being a good, supportive friend to you.

“Oh really, maybe I was confused considering the mention of my name.” Yeonjun sasses back. “What I was saying was, why can’t we be friends?” Yeonjun, determined to finish what he wants to say, continues. You notice he doesn’t look at Soobin as he speaks, only you. And the pleading look he sends your way makes you melt.

“I guess there’s no harm in that.” You shrug, trying to not show your true emotions as you observe the wide smile that spreads out across Yeonjun’s face. You really had missed his smile so much.

“Well ok then. If you’re just hanging out as friends then I can join, cause I’m your friend and Yeonjun’s friend too.” Soobin announces and you stifle your laughter when you notice Yeonjun grimace at being called Soobin’s friend.

“I guess.” Yeonjun mumbles reluctantly as he is finally able to enter your apartment properly.

The three of you sit on the sofa, Soobin forcing himself in the small space between you. It’s awkward. No one knowing what to say first to break the silence.

“So how have you been?” Yeonjun is the first to speak, leaning around Soobin to see you.

“I’ve been good, thanks.” Soobin answers as you open your mouth to speak.

“And you?” Yeonjun chuckles now beginning to find Soobin amusing. His gaze is focused intently onto you, eager to finally talk properly with you after so long apart.

“I’ve been better.” You force a small smile.

When you’d initially contacted Yeonjun and invited him over, you’d been so desperate that you hadn’t given it any thought as to how you might feel when he’s actually here. It’s a lot more difficult to see him than you expected, and you know it’s just your overwhelming emotions talking, but you’re still in love with him.

Despite wanting nothing but to cave in and get back with Yeonjun, you remain strong and fight the urge. You don’t want the same things as each other. And the more you remind yourself of that, the more you are able to convince yourself that breaking up was the right thing for the both of you.

“I’ve missed you.” Yeonjun admits. You stare into his longing gaze, your heart racing as you see the sincerity pouring out of him.

“I’ve missed you too.” You whisper, not trusting your voice. You can feel your eyes well up as the words tumble from your lips without thought. Although, it’s true, you really have missed him with all your heart.

“You know, on my way over here I saw a pigeon throw up and then a rat ate it.” Soobin quickly jumps in and changes the moment as soon as he senses the mood getting too serious.

“I still think about you everyday. I mean it’s kinda hard not to when everything reminds me of you.” Yeonjun chooses to ignore Soobin’s obvious attempt at stopping your conversation.

You aren’t sure how to respond to him, so overwhelmed that you feel like the room is spinning.

“Ok, I’m gonna head to the bathroom.” Soobin stands from the sofa. “But I’ll be quick so don’t try anything.” He warns, waving his pointed finger between the both of you before he leaves.

“Look, I’m not going to ask to get back together because I know we want different things.” Yeonjun takes the opportunity to finally say what he’s wanted to say the whole time. “But just to be with you one more night…”

“I want that too, but isn’t that gonna make it too hard?” You try to reason.

“It can’t be any harder than the last few weeks…” And yet, Yeonjun’s words seem to make more sense than you’d like.

“If I’d known the last time I saw you would be the last time, I would have stopped to memorise your face, the way you moved. Everything about you. If I had know the last time I kissed you would be the last time, I never would have stopped.” You’re left speechless by Yeonjun’s confession. Seemingly frozen in shock, your mind blank of all thoughts.

“Kiss him, you fool!” Soobin jolts you out of your daze as he rushes back in to the room.

“Huh?” You scrunch your brows in confusion at your friend. He’s done a complete 180 flip after hearing Yeonjun’s speech.

“Didn’t you hear him? If you don’t kiss him, I will.” You stare at him in shock. This has got to be some sort of test, right?

Except Soobin’s expression is completely serious. You cast several quick glances between Soobin and Yeonjun, observing how the latter sends you an almost pleading look, probably silently begging you to not let Soobin kiss him.

Soobin must be serious about telling you to kiss Yeonjun, because he’s willingly encouraging you. And that’s what finally makes you give in, instantly closing the space between you and Yeonjun, your lips moulding perfectly together in a passionate kiss.

You both pull apart breathless, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes.

“I knew you’d be here!” You jolt apart when the door swings open and slams against the wall.

“Who is this?” Soobin questions, confusion clouding his features.

“It’s my friend Beomgyu.” Yeonjun sighs. “I asked him to keep me away from you.” Yeonjun directs the last part towards you.

You simply giggle at him, half still elated from your kiss, the other in amusement.

“Hey, I’m doing that for (Y/N).” Soobin beams.

“Well you’re not doing a very good job. What’s with all the kissing!” Beomgyu sasses back.

You cast your gaze back to Yeonjun when Soobin and Beomgyu begin bickering back and forth, too invested in their arguing to pay attention to either of you.

“Want to get out of here?” You whisper to him, wide grin on your face when he nods and grabs your hand; both of you sneaking out without being noticed and quickly rushing away to make up for lost time.

“Hey, where’d they go?” Soobin suddenly notices you’re missing.

“Ugh, we blew it.” Beomgyu grumpily mutters, defeatedly throwing his hands in the air.

“I blame myself.” Soobin shakes his head in disappointment.

“I blame you too.” Soobin sends Beomgyu a glare in response.

#🥕 anon #txt requests #txt fluff #txt angst #txt oneshots #txt drabbles #txt x reader #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt yeonjun #txt choi yeonjun #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop x reader #kpop requests #kpop oneshots #kpop drabbles #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

[mrs-johansson]

With fire and blood - Chapter 1: Iron Man II - Dreaming of you

Part 13:

Cracking up 4 eggs, sprinkle it with cheese, adding some bacon and a little salt. The perfect scrambled eggs.

Slid that on my plate and grabbed my cup of coffee, I walked back to my room. I had to work a bit forward so when I leave, Pepper doesn’t get lost in paperwork alone.

Fury said that for the last 3 days, I should stop with physical training because all of my injuries should be healed when I get there. I was against it, of course, I can’t be prepared enough for a mission like that so I still went to the gym early in the morning and did some running and lifting.

Around 9 am, I was done with everything that I wanted to do. Brought my dirty dishes back to the kitchen, where I saw Maria lingering around.

“Good morning,” I spoke. Her head shot up from the IPad in front of her, giving me a small smile. “Morning. Where did you leave Romanoff?” She asked with a smirk and I playfully rolled my eyes. “She was on a mission yesterday and I think she’s still asleep,” I said, washing my used dishes. “Ah yeah. I saw you in the gym earlier. I thought Nick asked you not to train.” Hill raised an eyebrow. “I need to be prepared if I get a difficult mission.” I simply said. “There’s plenty of time for that.” Only if you knew… “I don’t waste any time,” I murmured, and with a smile, I left the kitchen.

What the hell am I supposed to do if not train? My dad is working, Nat is somewhere and Clint disappeared as usual. Maybe I should see Pepper. Yeah, that will be great.

I got ready and made my way to the office. I was just driving and thinking how am I gonna do in the Red Room. Even though I heard some about it, I still don’t know what to expect. I haven’t forced Natasha to talk about it and no one else could give a better expression about the place. No research from SHIELD can top a personal experience.

Knocking on Pepper’s office door, I opened the tall wooden door and saw my dad and Pepper talking. “Oh hi.” I smiled, happy to see them both. “Wow, you’re still alive? I thought Fury kidnapped you.” Dad raised an eyebrow and I just shook my head. “I’m very much alive.” I walked in, handing the woman some papers. “My reports and the contract for the military order,” I said and she smiled widely. “It’s not due for another 2 weeks,” her head tilted in confusion. “I had time.” I sat in the chair next to dad and felt his eyes on me. “What’s up?” I asked. “What’s up with you? You’ve been a ghost for the past 2 weeks.” He said and I glanced at him then at Pepper. He was a bit disappointed I think. “I’ve just been busy and stuff. This intense program is rough.” I shifted in my seat, crossing my legs. “How’s Natasha? I had dinner with her the other day, she was very joyful.” Pepper said and I was quite surprised to hear that they hung out. “You guys had dinner?” Dad asked before me. “Yeah, I mean why not?” She said and I smiled. “Weird. Anyways, I do better, how’s Romanoff and you?” My lovely father asked and I rolled my eyes. So nosy. “Nothing dad. We’re friends.” I said and I saw them exchange looks. “With benefits you mean?” He looked back at me. “Why do you want to know it so badly?” I asked a bit harshly. “No need to bite my head off. I just want to know who sleeps in your bed.” He shrugged and I sighed. Feeling a buzz in my pocket, I grabbed my phone and saw Fury’s text that I’m needed at the HQ. “Well, you can think about that alone. I’m going. Nice to see you Pepps.” I got up and smiled at the woman. “You too, honey.” “Bye, dad.” “Bye-bye.”

***

“Hey, Nick.” I walked into the room, seeing the one-eyed man and another agent. “Close the door please.” Fury asked and I did. “Stark, this is Agent Smith. He is part of the small circle of people who know about the mission.” I nodded, holding my hand out which he shook. “Nice to meet you.” He said.

“Since you’re gonna be away for a long time and you can’t give us updates, we have to put a tracker on you. We need to know your location at all times, for your safety,” Nick said and I nodded. “But because those pigs use high-quality technology, we needed a tracker that they can’t find.” He said. Smith put a little case on the table and opened it. A syringe was in there, with red stuff in it. “This is called the HS-1985. It becomes one with your blood cells. It’s 100% safe, we’ve been using it for quite some time. We can see your location at all times without them finding this out.” He explained. “And is there like a different serum that will inactive this?” I looked up at him. “Yeah, but you need to get back for that.” “Great. So I just inject it? That’s it?” He nodded.

I pulled my belt out of my jeans. Wrapped it around my left arm and squeezed it tightly. Saw the vein pop out slightly and I picked up the needle. I felt the light stinging feeling as I poked the needle inside the vein. I imbibed some blood to collide with the serum before injecting the full amount of liquid. Put the needle back into the case, took off the belt, and put it back into my jeans. “That would be it?” I asked the two men. Nick nodded with his eye wide. “Great. See you soon then.” And left the room.

***

*Third person POV*

Tomorrow is the day. One last meeting with the ‘secret team’ where they go through the plan one more time. Nobody suspects anything which is for the best. Y/N was more nervous with time. I guess that’s understandable.

“Good evening everyone. Glad everyone could join.” Nick Fury walked into the soundproof conference room. 6 agents were gathered around the table, including Y/N Stark. Her leg was bouncing off the ground at a high pace. Palms sweaty. “As you all know, tomorrow morning Agent Stark departs for a long-term undercover mission. We’re all gonna do our best to keep her the safest while she’s there from afar. She already got the tracker the other day so the only job we have left before she leaves is to see if we have everything settled.” Nick explained to the scrimpy team. “Shall we start?”

***

“3 am sharp everyone.” His last words sent chills down on Y/N’s spine. “Stark!” Nick's sharp voice brought her back to the present. Everyone else left the room except the two. “Mhm…” She looked at him with fear in her eyes. “I chose you because you can do it.” He said with pure honesty. “I don’t think I can.” Her shaky words just made her less and less confident. “You know what they did to hundreds of girls. What they did to Natasha. This is a chance to save them. Y/N this is a chance to show that you’re a hero.” Fury’s hand was on her shoulder by then. “You have a motive. You just have to do it now.” He said softly. A tear slipped out of the girl’s eyes, but she quickly whipped it away. “See you tomorrow.” She said before walking away herself.

It was 9 pm. The HQ was mostly quiet, especially because it was a Friday night.

Y/N walked through the long hallways. Her phone in her hand, ready to click on her dad’s name. After a long sigh, she did and lifted the device to her ear.

Stopping at some point, leaning against the wall. Y/N’s eyes were closed when Tony picked up the phone.

“Hello?” His voice rang through the phone. “Hey!” She said quickly, fidgeting with the end of her shirt. “What’s up?” Tony asked with his usual cocky voice. “Just wanted to… you know… see how uhm are you? How are you?” She stumbled over her words, already feeling the lump in her throat. “I’m… great, yeah. You okay?”

Tony was at home, just working in his lab when Y/N called. After hearing her unusual voice he sat down, dropping what he was doing before.

“Yeah yeah, I’m good. Just a bit tired, you know.” She said. Squeezing her eyes, feeling tears welling up. “You sure?” Her dad asked. “Mhmm, uhm you know what I’m just gonna go to sleep.” “Okay…” “Hey, dad!” She called out. “Yeah?” Hearing his voice made Y/N crumble in her place. “I love you.” She said, letting the tears roll down her cheeks. “I love you too, kid.” “Tell Pepper I love her too, yeah?” Leaned her head back to the wall, teardrops falling to the metal floor. “I will.” “Okay, uhm… Bye then.” She said, holding back a sob. “Bye, be safe,” Tony said, feeling like he had to say that now for some reason. Y/N hung up the phone, sliding down the wall, sitting on the ground. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and buried her face, away from all the light, letting the tears fall.

***

2:50 am. Y/N already sitting on the edge of her bed, with 3 envelopes in her shaky hands. Slowly stood up and walked to the door, stopping for a minute to look back at the room she’s leaving behind.

The perfect view of New York, that she’s gonna miss so much. The couch she was sitting on for such long times, reading books, doing paperwork. The bed where she slept for months, where she watched movies from, where she cried, where she laughed… where she layed with Natasha.

Closing the door behind herself, she slowly and as quietly as possible, walked to the redhead’s room. Opening the door soundlessly, praying she will not walk Nat.

The hallway lights gave a stripe of light to the room. Just enough to let Y/N see Natasha laying on the bed, sleeping so peacefully. She moved to the side of the bed, her already blurry vision giving just the outline of the woman. Y/N leaned down and gave a lingering kiss to Natasha’s head, a tear leaving her eye. “I’m sorry, moya lyubov',” her soft words left her mouth before she left the room in a hurry.

***

The Quinjet took off at exactly 3 am. The same 6 people as last night’s meeting and Fury in the sky, ready to leave for Russia.

“Nick,” Y/N called out, grabbing the director’s attention. He sat down next to her, viewing the young woman. “Can you give this to them when you get back? But still no word about this. Just give it to them, please.” She said with a broken voice. The man nodded and patted her shoulder as a gesture of empathy.

The flight seems like an eternity. But as they reached Moscow, Y/N felt like she was walking to her death. She doesn’t know if she’s gonna come back or not. Will she see Tony again? Pepper? Clint? Fury? Natasha? She didn’t know a thing.

“Ready?” Fury moved to her side as she was standing at the entrance of the Quinjet. Viewing the empty street, goosebumps ran along her body. Her stomach twisted, but she had to be ready so she nodded. “Be careful, Y/N.” Those were Nick Fury’s last words to her before the plane took off, leaving Y/N Stark in Moscow, Russia, to get collected by The Red Room.

***

Hearing a knock on her door, Natasha got up from the bed and revealed Fury standing outside her room. “Hey.” She said and the director just nodded. “Special delivery. Any idea where I can find Agent Barton?” He asked before handing an envelope to Romanoff. “He’s training.” She said, looking weirdly at the man. “Thank you.” All he said before leaving Natasha confused at her doorway.

Sitting back on the edge of the bed, she ripped open the envelope with her name on it. Pulled out the piece of paper and started reading it.

To my Natasha,

It’s gonna be hard to explain what I’m doing without actually saying it, but I hope at least you’ll understand my actions.

I left for a mission this morning and I hope you get my letter in time because it’s gonna sound stupid if not.

The mission is still secretive and I hope it stays that way, at least until I come back.

I’ll be away for a year, I mean that’s the plan. Out of all people, I hope you will understand how important this is to me. To help people and do what I’m good at.

I know my leave is so sudden and I haven’t even said goodbye, but I thought this is way easier. Plus there’s no point in saying goodbye, I’ll come back soon. Please, look after yourself and let people take care of you. I know Clint is desperate to have a beer with you and I’m sure he’s still practicing how to beat you in a sparring session.

You must be feeling betrayed and left out right now, and I’m truly sorry. I’ve never met anyone as amazing as you Romanoff. If I don’t come back, I hope you know, you hold a special place in my heart and no matter what happens, you’ll always mean the world to me.

Lastly, I just want to ask a favor. My dad will most likely have a very hard time dealing with my leaving and Pepper may not be enough for him. So just please keep your eyes on him for me. He is strong on the outside, but he’s only a dad.

“I’ll hold you in my heart until I can hold you in my arms.” - Peter Pan

Till next time,

Y/N

*******************************************************

This is it for Chapter 1!!! Thank you for the support, I really appreciate it❤️

Chapter 2: The Avengers - I got red in my ledger… coming soon🐙😘

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #black widow x y/n #black widow #black widow x female reader #black widow x you #black widow imagines #stark reader #marvel #iron man #writing

[writers-worst-nightmare]

Welcome to the internet

PLATONIC TOMMY X READER

Summery: y/n is older then Tommy, and once Tommy gets to his reach of fame y/n finally shows him the mess that the internet really is

A/N: this song is just *chefs kiss*

Warning(s): mentions of racism, cussing, minor talks about murder, it mentions rule 34…soooo…..do with that what you must (“and a bunch of colored pencil drawings of all the different character of Harry Potter fucking each other“ is the line)

You slid in front of Tommy and placed on a large smile on your face, dragging Tommy to your computer you started humming slightly.

“Welcome to the internet! Have a look around Anything that brain of yours can think of can be found We've got mountains of content—some better, some worse If none of it's of interest to you, you'd be the first”

You exclaimed happily, Tommy nodded in agreement before laughing.

”My job is streaming for the internet to see, of course I know that!” Tommy brushed off. You laughed breathlessly a little bit before saying again

“Welcome to the internet! Come and take a seat”

you offered, patting the chair next to you. Tommy happily accepted and sat down on the chair next to you.

“Would you like to see the news or any famous women's feet?”

You asked as you pulled up countless of pictures of fake News that spread like wildfires greedily licking up all the little things that celebrities said and putting them out of context, or just making up random shit and posting it on their new magazine cover to get more people to but their products that they got. Then, you quickly pulled up pictures of women getting sexualized for practically nothing. Through all of this, Tommy just stood their in silence, frozen still.

“There's no need to panic; this isn't a test, haha Just nod or shake your head, and we'll do the rest”

Tommy, still frozen, looked at the screen as you got ready to pull up more pages of the internet

“Welcome to the internet! What would you prefer?”

You proceed, quickly typing some things in on your keyboard before clicking “enter“ and showing Tommy what you mean Whenever you say that you need a break from the internet and take a couple months (or even years when it gets really bad) of not posting or anything.

”Would you like to fight for civil rights?”

You showed Tommy the BLM movement. Tommy smiled and nodded his head ‘yes.’

“Or tweet a racial slur?”

You showed the countless of tweets that showed up as famous celebrities posted about how the BLM movement was stupid.

“Why would I do that—“ Tommy was cut off by you picking up your speech a little.

“Be happy!”

You opened up the Spotify app

”Be horny!”

You opened up the Wattpad app

”Be bursting with rage!”

you opened up Twitter once more

“We’ve got a million ways to engage!”

You cheered as you showed Tommy the different apps and internet searches you could go off of.

“Well, yes, I know that but isn’t there a different way to—“ Tonly was cut off again by you explaining more.

“Welcome to the internet! Put your cares aside”

You seemed to e going slightly more irritated with yourself as you kept on going.

“Here's a tip for straining pasta;”

Tommy relaxed a little as you put up tips for straining pasta, maybe there was only a tiny part of the internet that was bad.

“here's a nine-year-old who died”

You pulled up countless of articles, and Tommy’s breath caught in his throat as he stared down at the mess of the internet. One minute was pasta and the other is was death? What the fuck!?

”We've got movies and doctors and fantasy sports”

Tommy looked bewildered, as if the fact about a ton of nine-year-olds dying was the same as saying it was a sunny day outside.

“And a bunch of colored-pencil drawings of all the different characters in Harry Potter fucking each other”

”I—I beg your fucking pardon!?” Tommy exclaimed looking even more baffled.

”Welcome to the internet! Hold on to your socks 'Cause a random guy just kindly sent you photos of his cock They are grainy and off-putting; he just sent you more Don't act surprised—you know you like it, you whore”

”Y/n….what has been happening!?” Tommy yelled as he stared at you in a worried expression.

“See a man beheaded, get offended, see a shrink Show us pictures of your children, tell us every thought you think Start a rumor, buy a broomer, send a death threat to a boomer Or DM a girl and groom her; do a zoomer find a tumor in your— Here's a healthy breakfast option, you should kill your mom Here's why women never fuck you; here's how you can build a bomb Which Power Ranger are you? Take this quirky quiz Obama sent the immigrants to vaccinate your kids”

Tears started to fall from your eyes as you stared down at the phone that held internet.

“Could I interest you in everything all of the time? A little bit of everything all of the time Apathy's a tragedy, and boredom is a crime Anything and everything all of the time Could I interest you in everything all of the time? A little bit of everything all of the time Apathy's a tragedy, and boredom is a crime Anything and everything all of the time”

You rambled on as the phone shook in your hands violently.

“Not very long ago, just before your time Right before the towers fell, circa '99 This was catalogs, travel blogs, a chatroom or two We set our sights and spent our nights waiting for you! You, insatiable you Mommy let you use her iPad; you were barely two And it did all the things we designed it to do Now, look at you! Oh, look at you! You, you! Unstoppable, watchable Your time is now, your inside's out, honey, how you grew And if we stick together, who knows what we'll do? It was always the plan to put the world in your hand”

You let out a weak smiling, remembering all the good memories that you had almost forgotten. They almost faded in the back of your head and lost.

Could I interest you in everything all of the time? A bit of everything all of the time Apathy's a tragedy, and boredom is a crime Anything and everything all of the time Could I interest you in everything all of the time? A little bit of everything all of the time Apathy's a tragedy, and boredom is a crime Anything and everything and anything and everything And anything and everything and All of the time

#Spotify #story songs #song reference #dream smp #dream smp x you #tommyinnit #mcyt x y/n #mcytumblr #mcyt imagine #mcyt x you #mcyt x reader #mcyters #mcyt #mcyt fanfiction #tommyinit dsmp #tommyinit x reader #i got lazy at the end

[jae-daddy]

Duff (9)

im jaebum au series 

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven  masterlist

pairing: im jaebum x reader  genre: angst, smurt, cheating plot: you are the duff and guys use you to get close to your best friend, Heather, and turns out Jaebum is no exception, but as time does on the tension between you and your best friend’s unofficial boyfriend grows a/n: a short one, because I really truly hated where I had left the story last time. it was not it, but I like this. it’s better than the alternative I guess. also, I am writing all of it before publishing it so <3 hope yall like it <3 

You don’t know what came first; the guilt, embarrassment or hurt. 

But you knew yourself well, and you knew guilt didn’t touch your heart until later that night when you were lying in bed. As you stared up at the ceiling, thinking about that him, for the first time guilt laid its icy fingertips on you. 

The first thing you felt was hurt. Hurt that clawed at your heart, and made your soul whimper. Hurt that cut through you entirely as you remained in his arms, watching his face. 

“Yes,” he had said, his fingers digging into your hips. 

“Yes,” you replied, breathing him in as you leaned closer to him. 

You saw his lips draw into a straight line as he pulled away and said, “No.”

“Oh,” was all you said moving away from him. 

A simple sound, not even a word to express the pain that seared through you at his words. 

No.

He didn’t want you. 

Im Jaebum didn’t want you. 

You were in his arms, your skirt drawn up to your hips as you sat on his lap. In a single breath, he changed the moment completely, and you were no longer burning in passion, but in agony. Agony of not being desired by this man, not being wanted by him, when you yearned for him. When you were begging for his lips to touch any part of you, he had turned away. 

And then came the embarrassment blazing through the darkness of lust, and it hurt. It stabbed you everywhere till you were shivering in sudden coldness. You were so embarrassed, so ashamed. You had- you had done... all of that, and all he said was ‘no.’ 

It wasn’t the rejection that the embarrassment stemmed from. It was because you had tried, because you thought it would happen, because you thought he wanted you. Because you had offered yourself to him, and all he said to express his repugnance was a simple ‘no.’ 

You climbed off him and walked out the office. Your face was on fire from the shame as you straightened your skirt. You chuckled to yourself thinking a walk of shame was better then trying to hook up with your boss only to be rejected. 

You finished work that day, and the next, like nothing was amiss. As if that moment didn’t happen. As if every time you saw him, you weren’t reminded that he didn’t want you. 

Im Jaebum didn’t want you. 

It shouldn’t hurt that bad, especially since you almost swore you hated him with your heart. But it did, it hurt truly terribly badly, and there was nothing you could do about it. 

You couldn’t even feel sorry for yourself long enough too. Because as soon as the hurt and shame went away, and you looked up at your dark ceiling, you remembered her face. 

You remembered the way she had held your hand whenever you were scared. How she would give you that look every time she took your hand giving her courage. Her love, her kindness, her friendship, her. 

How for the first time since you’ve known her... for the first time, it seemed as if Heather truly liked someone and you... 

You didn’t feel sorry for yourself, or your heart that ached. You weren’t sure if the ache was because of the rejection or from the thought of loosing your best friend. But you didn’t feel sorry because what happened was your fault.

“Thanks for the files, y/n,” Jaebum looked up from his desk. For the first time, he was seated in the big boss seat without any reason. You smiled and nodded, before turning to leave, like nothing was amiss. As if that afternoon had never happened, as if you had never crossed that line.

You were almost out the door when he said, “Have a good weekend.”

Your fingers turned white on the handle, but you nevertheless you turned around and gave him a bright smile, “You too, Mr Im.” 

// 

Heather pouted as she sat next to you, before pulling you into a big bear hug. 

“It’s so nice to have my best friend back,” she sang, happily, hugging you tighter. 

You gave her small smile as you leaned into her, petting her arm, “It’s nice to be back.”

“Gosh, I’m so glad you’re done with that internship,” she huffed over the loud music of the club. 

You only nodded as you took a sip of your drink, “I still have three weeks left, Heather.” 

“Three weeks pass by like nothing,” she shook her head. She turned to you with a bright smile, “Remember Bali? Maybe now that you’re going to be more free, maybe we can...” 

She gave you a huge grin, quizzically raising her brows up and down to the music. Before she began bopping her head like a dork to the beat, “What do you say, y/n?” 

I’m sorry. 

“Whatever you want,” you smiled at her, and she exclaimed in joy. 

// 

“Mr Park Jinyoung is now officially the CEO of Spring Industries, and has sent forward a report and plan for their proposal,” You looked up to see Jaebum opening his mouth, but you cut him off knowing his question. “The file is already on your desks, and I have included a summary report from myself and Mr Paul.” 

You had a month and a bit to think about what had happened. In the beginning, you had blamed yourself. It was foolish of you to put yourself out there for him, but the more you thought about the angrier you got. 

It wasn’t all in your head. Im Jaebum did flirt with you. 

He gave you all the signals, all the green lights, and the arrows leading you to him. He basically had made a pathway for you to follow into his arms, and after all that he said no? 

No. 

No, it wasn’t your fault for putting yourself out there for him. You had done it because you thought... you felt that he too... but who knows, Im Jaebum was friendly with everyone. 

But he did tell others his wish was to kiss them?

Did he ever follow anyone to the rooftop of a club and call himself a fool for letting them go?

Did he talk to everyone about his mother?

Did he smile like that at everyone? Look at them like that? Touch them with the faintest touch of his fingertips?

But you should’ve known better. 

These rich guys never go for girls like you. 

You don’t have any money, any wealth, nothing to offer them to make their status go up. You weren’t even pretty enough to be a trophy wife. You were just a girl they could play with behind closed doors. 

But for Jaebum, you weren’t even worth that.

“Spring Industries is having a party on Thursday to announce Park Jinyoung as their new appointed CEO. They have requested your presence to show the companies are friendly--,” you once again looked up from your iPad, to find Jaebum staring at you intently. You ignored his gaze, and the rage that fumed inside you, “It’s most likely a political publicity stunt, but I would recommend you do go to the party, as it will be beneficial for you both-”

“What am I going to do about you?” 

“Excuse me?” You gasped, taken aback. 

Jaebum chuckled, humourlessly. His lips twisted into a smirk, and you realised you hadn’t seen him smile or laugh in a really long time. You tried to shove the pain shooting towards your heart away, but a pang still rang through you as you saw his sad smile. 

“How am I going to do this all without you?” He clarified himself. You stammered unable to think of something to say. Jaebum let out a sigh, “Come to the party with me.” 

“I’m afraid that’s-”

Jaebum interrupted you, making you frown. 

“Your last assignment as my secretary, Miss y/n,” Jaebum tilted his head to the side, smiling slightly as he said, “Come with me.” 

No. 

“What about Heather?” 

“I can’t go to formal gatherings with her without others assuming it's a political play,” Jaebum answered, before shrugging, “It’s too early for that step anyway.” 

Too early? They have been dating for months now, and Heather was head over heels for him, and he is saying it’s too early. 

“I-”

“Please, y/n,” Jaebum’s dark eyes bore into yours, and you held your breath. “One last time.” 

"Alright,” you sighed, defeated. 

“Thanks.” 

Thanks, love, the ghost of his past self whispered.

You swallowed the bitterness, before looking down at your iPad once again. 

“Mr Henry and Mark are...” you continued on as if nothing was wrong. 

Because nothing was wrong. 

Everything was right. 

You were about to end this dreadful internship, and come out debt free. 

Heather was in love with her boyfriend. 

Her boyfriend didn’t fuck her best friend. 

And your best friend was still your best friend. 

Everything was just right, but everything felt so wrong. 

// 

You were leaning against the rich white leather sofa and Heather’s shoulders. Your eyes were closed, as you tried not to break down in front of your best friend. 

You knew Jaebum wasn’t going to be here tonight. It was Friday night and he had a company dinner with the upper shareholders today. So, tonight you decided to sleep over at Heather’s house. 

Just like every moment you spent with her now, you wanted to burst out into tears and tell her everything. Tell her how you fell for him and his teasing words. How you didn’t mean to but you started to like him, how your heart ached every time you saw him. How terrible you felt every time you saw Heather smile at you like that, knowing that you were so close to ruining everything. 

“Hey, what’s wrong, babe?” Heather asked, her soft hands wiping the tears that fell onto your cheeks. 

You shook your head and moved away from her shoulder. You leaned into the corner of your sofa, and tried to hold in the tears. But you couldn’t. 

Your chin began to shake as more tears fell from your eyes. 

“Hey, hey, hey, y/n,” Heather moved towards you quickly. “What’s wrong, babe? You can tell me anything.” 

You shook your head, you couldn’t tell her this. You couldn’t tell her this. You couldn’t lose her. 

“I’m sorry, Heather,” you whispered into her tank top as she pulled your shaking body into her. 

“Shhh,” she hushed, brushing your hair, trying to calm your sobbing body, “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s only to be okay. I’m here for you, I’m always going to be here for you. Okay?” 

You bit your lip as you cried harder. You managed a meek okay through your tears. 

After you had calmed down a bit, you leaned back and looked at your best friend. Her eyes were glistening with concern, and a few stray tears running down her face too from seeing you cry. 

You couldn't hide it from her, she was your other half. You had to tell her, but all you could manage was, “I love him, Heather.” 

I love Im Jaebum.

#duff #im jaebum #jay b #lim jaebeom #im jaebeom #lim #im #Jaebum #jaebeom #got7 #got7 jaebeom #got7 jay b #got7 jaebum #got7 series #series #fanfic #ff #jaebum series #jaebum fanfic #jaebum angs #angst #got7 angst #fluff #got7 fluff #jaebum smut #cheating #sad #rejected

[lokidoki-imagines]

Red String of Fate Part 1

So I wrote out a whole piece and then my iPad decided to just delete it 🥲 But yeah, I’m a Zemo simp now apparently 🤷🏼‍♀️ 

Warnings: None really for this chapter, but I suppose it’s the start of a love triangle so if those bother you, then this ain’t the one for you 😂

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Zemo x Reader, Sam x platonic!reader

Word count: 1514

Having worked with Bucky and Sam before the blip, you knew the two of them together meant trouble. There was never a plan, only arguments and bickering over who had the right to make the plan, which usually ended with you making the plan instead. What wasn’t in your plan, was meeting your friends at a small Berlin airfield after their trip to see Zemo.

After having found the space outside of hanger 9, you pulled your phone out and called Bucky. “Okay, I’m here. So what’s my surprise?” Hoping it was going to be something nice, like some of those famous plums he always insists are better than anywhere else in the world, you let your imagination run as you heard him chuckle on the other end of the phone. “Don’t freak out doll, but look to your left.”

Pulling your phone away from your ear as the line went dead you could feel the goosebumps creep along your skin. Swaggering as if he owned the place, and you’d be surprised if he didn’t, was the one and only Baron Zemo; flagging him either side was Sam and Bucky. Shaking off the shock you shoved your phone back into your jacket pocket and stormed over to the three approaching men, noticing an elderly man stepping off a private jet spurred you into walking even quicker. 

“What the hell are you two thinking?” Stopping a few feet away from them you ignored the man in the middle. “You said there was a surprise,” you let your eyes flicker over to Zemo’s brown ones before forcing them back to Bucky “Usually when someone says they’ve gotten you a surprise it’s something pleasant.”

“It’s his fault.” Sam spoke quickly, shoving a finger in Bucky’s direction. 

“Hey, don’t pin this on me. He broke himself out, I only-”

“Oh so you’re completely innocent in this? Pretty sure you-”

Your eyes drifted from your bickering friends to the silent man between them. He was unusually quiet, any smart ass quip he had planned had turned to lead on his tongue the minute you came into the picture. He had wrinkles, only slight, at the corner of his eyes that weren’t there the last time you’d seen him. Days worth of stubble marked his cheeks, but even with all the years and heartache that he’d endured since you’d last seen each other, he was still exactly the same as you remembered. You could only wonder what he was thinking, seeing you here with his enemies after all this time.

“Are we interrupting something?” Sam spoke carefully, pulling your attention away from the criminal in front of you. Bucky and Sam were watching you both with cautious looks, as words begin to fail you. You’d never told your friends about your past further than you’d moved to the states as an adult. They knew you lived in Sokovia for a number of years on and off, but they didn’t know all of it. You didn’t know them during the Civil War, you became fast friends with them during their exile days on the run from the law after meeting Sam and Steve during one of their recon missions. Of course you knew why they were on the run, it’s why you never told them everything. If they knew-

You couldn’t get any words out as your mouth flapped open and closed like a fish out of water. You were blindsided seeing Zemo again and you couldn’t think straight, it had been so long and so many feelings began to rush to the surface you didn’t know where to start or what to say. Letting your eyes drift back to Zemo you pleaded with him silently to keep quiet, to keep your past a secret for the sake of your friendship, the sake of your reputation.

He still hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. “No. I’m afraid I don’t have the honour of knowing your friend,” his lips curved into a smirk as you let out a breath, “though I would certainly like to be introduced.”

“Let’s get on the plane, then we can play nicey - nicey.”

Zemo brushed past you as Sam followed him onto the jet. Your mind was racing, memories of your past rushing back as they escaped the box you’d kept  sealed for the last god knows how many years. “Hey,” Bucky placed his hand on your arm, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to the present. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Just a shock, thought I was getting flowers.” The close contact of Buckys body to yours would usually send you into a tailspin, racing heart and nervous smiles. Now, it was empty; void. Your thoughts occupied by the passenger on the jet.

“I’ll bear that in mind for next time.” He promised as you turned towards the jet, “Let’s get going. The quicker we’re out of Berlin the better.” 

Walking down the gangway you took the seat opposite Zemo, Bucky opting for the one to your right across the aisle. Letting your head fall back as the engine roared to life you laughed a little, rolling your head to look at the super soldier. “I thought I was getting some of those famous plums.” 

You could feel his chocolate eyes watching and assessing the situation, just as easily as you could feel your nerves tingling on the back of your neck. Bucky let off a casual laugh, his head lolled to the side too. “Next time Doll, I promise I’ll get you some of those plums.”

“Perhaps I could get some too.” Flipping your head back you could tell he was teasing, testing the boundaries that were being set and seeing how far he could push it. “I do love plum jam, especially the homemade kind.” 

You set your jaw as his eyes began to dance with mischief. He held the power now and he knew it, you had no choice but to bite your tongue as he toyed with you as innocently as he could. “Well I bet you’ve never had jam as good as Y/N’s, she makes the best jam I’ve ever tasted.” Your heart swelled at Sams sweet compliment as a smile formed as a thanks on your lips.

“Oh I bet it’s delicious.” Zemo drawled, his lilting accent just as you remember it.

“So where are we going now that we’ve broken a convicted felon out of prison?” His eyes dropped from you to look out the window as he took a glass of champagne from the assistant. The old man offered one to yourself, but you declined politely.

“Madripoor,” The Sokovian opposite you drawled in his accent, his fingers pausing in the pages of a book. “Now I don’t recognise this name...Nakajima?”

Leaping out of his seat before you knew it Bucky had one hand fisted in Zemos shirt, the other grabbing a little notebook you recognised as Steve’s. “You touch that again, and I’ll kill you.”

Sinking back in your seat you watched the three men bicker over Marvin Gaye. Taking a cup of tea from the assistant as you relaxed back into your seat, you couldn’t help but wonder why you were heading to Madripoor of all places. You’d only been once, a lifetime ago now, but it made an impression.

“So who are we playing dress up as?” You asked the man opposite you, sipping your tea. You knew his games, and you knew he’d take any opportunity to be the one in the know.

Sam sat forward, “I’m sorry, dress up?”

Zemo heaved a sigh, his hands folding over his lap with a head tilt. “We all have a part to play if we are to get the information we need from Selby. Sam, you will play the part of Conrad Mack aka The Smiling Tiger.” You snorted at Sams expression, his deadpan face betraying his thoughts.

“Seriously? He even has a bad nickname man.”

“James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.” Your smile dropped, you knew that was going to be hard for Bucky. That much was evident from the scowl on his face. “And you, Y/n.”

His smile oozed mischief. “You will be my beautiful wife, accompanying her husband on business.” 

Sam and Bucky began to protest as his smirk grew. “Fine.” Their shouts of protest falling short as you and Zemo started each other down.

“You can’t be serious Y/N.” Sam began, his hands flying to the brown eyed man opposite you.

Bucky shook his head, letting loose a humourless laugh. “If you think I’m letting you anywhere near her, then-”

You felt a swell in your chest at Buckys protectiveness, “It’s either be his wife or his whore,” Zemo’s smirk dropped, his eyes glazing over as you smiled weakly at your friends. “Plus he’s rich, I’m getting some jewellery out of this.”

Closing your eyes to get some rest before you landed, you could feel a set of eyes on you; whether they were chocolate brown or ice blue was a completely different matter.

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