#my heart beats for the middle left ring HONESTLY

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Married hero x villain

When villain just comes to hero’s rescue right after they’ve been severely tortured by supervillain (or superhero, whichever one is fine), and hero breaks down bc they lost their wedding ring during the fight and villain is like “baby that ring is nothing compared to your own life and safety, plus I can always buy you a new one.”

“Fuck, your stats are horrible,” the villain noticed. They still stared at the calibrations their little device offered, refusing to believe that the hero was in such a bad condition and still conscious.

Then again, the hero wasn’t quite human.

“I’m so sorry,” the hero whispered. The tears wouldn’t stop and the villain’s heart splintered with every drop.

“It’s not your fault,” the villain said. They tried to be rational, to shut off their emotions and concentrate on the hero instead of their anger. The villain knew they would take care of the supervillain later and they knew it wouldn’t be pretty. Carefully, they wiped the tears and blood from the hero’s face. “You’re safe now.”

“I can’t really breathe,” the hero said.

“I know, your left lung collapsed.”

“Has that ever happened before?” the hero asked. The villain could tell they were in immense pain but refused to show it.

“Yeah, a few months ago. It wasn’t this bad, though. Now, come here.” The villain pulled up their spouse but they noticed too late the hero’s ankles were broken. The hero moaned — nearly screamed — and the villain picked them up immediately, just like on their wedding day.

The fabric of the villain’s suit twisted in the hero’s hand.

“Shit, I scanned you all over, how did I miss this…?”

“Scan probably crashed. Happened to me when I tried to scan a dead person. Too much info. They really messed me up this time,” the hero whispered. The villain felt them shake in their arms, felt blood soaking through their own suit.

“Hey, it’s okay,” the villain said. They tried not to hold their spouse too close. They didn’t want to cause any more harm.

But despite the villain’s plan, they felt their own sanity slipping away. They had to swallow a sour taste in their mouth, had to blink away tears.

The villain needed to be strong for their hero but deep down, they knew how this was breaking them. How all of this was made to break them. Stealing their spouse in the middle of the night, torturing them, hiding them, playing with them; all of it happened because the supervillain wanted to toy with them.

Panic was an old companion and the villain was sure they would meet them soon enough. And if that happened, panic would beat the living shit out of them.

“Let’s go home,” the villain said, their voice shaking.

“Honey, I need to tell you something,” the hero said and the villain held onto them a little tighter, protective and worried. Their spouse was doing pretty well for nearly dying. No doubt, their superpowers made them harder to kill, but the hero was dangerously good at pretending they were fine.

The villain risked a look down at them in their arms and there were even more tears on the hero’s cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” they sobbed and the villain had a million horrible suspicions running through their mind. What had happened to their hero? What had they done to them? The villain was losing it, was going to murder the supervillain with their own hands. “They took my ring.”

The hero’s tears wouldn’t stop, in fact everything got worse. The villain could tell they tried to swallow their tears. But their lips trembled and their eyes were red.

“Honestly? I’m just glad you’re alright.” One crack, then two. The villain’s voice gave up and so did the villain. They let the little wall in their mind crumble completely and let emotions take over. Everything broke down and the tears followed. They held the hero close, shaking.

Likewise, the hero stopped pretending and let the tears fall.

It was a curse. Pretending to be alright, so you wouldn’t worry your significant other. The villain hadn’t planned this but they couldn’t help it. Maybe the hero was the only person they could be their rawest self with. Maybe the hero was the only person who truly, deeply knew them.

Someone who had seen all the ugly parts, all the disgusting parts, all the faults and mistakes, all the imperfections and unpleasantries. Someone who, despite all, stayed.

“Oh god, my love,” the villain sobbed between tears, “god, I thought you were gone.”

“You’re not mad?” the hero asked and the villain shook their head, lost in complete despair. They needed a second to gather themselves.

“It’s just a ring,” the villain whispered. The hero wiped tears off the villain’s cheeks and the villain had to smile softly. “Marriage is so much more than one ring. All I ask for is your safety.”

The hero leaned their head against the villain’s chest. They seemed calmer as their fingers went over the villain’s forearm.

“I can always buy you a new one,” the villain promised. “But first, we have to get out of here.”

For the next few months, the villain didn’t let the healing hero out of their sight.

#bro stop talking and get outta there yall are dumb fuck u #ugh disgusting couples yuck (sarcastic) #NOT PRROOOFREADDD #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request

[nburkhardt]

💘

Ooohhh let’s see what I can do with this!!

💘 fake relationship / mutual pining / dared to kiss (I’m skipping the fake part of this)

~

“This is a terrible idea,” Robin mumbles under her breath as Steve threw another bag of chips in the basket, “A really terrible idea, Evie.”

Steve shook his head, pushing the basket towards where Eddie and Jeff were arguing over something. “Bobbie, it’ll be fine. I’ll be fine”

Robin sighed, grabbing his arm to pull him to a stop. Putting both hands on his face to force him to look at her, “Steven Marie-“

“Not my name”

“Doesn’t matter, Steven Marie Harrington, you should not get high with the guy you have feelings for!” She hisses, concern written all over her face, “you and I know how loose your lips get when high, the minute you’re looking at him, it’s gonna come out!”

Steve rolled his eyes, pulling her hands away before turning away to grab the cart. “That’s why we’re grabbing movies after this. You’ll sit next to me, I can keep my mouth shut!”

She shakes her head as he walks closer to the others, “i’m ditching if you end up sucking face together.”

He held up his middle finger behind his back at her.

‘This is all Robin’s fault’, Steve thought to himself as he slides down the door with shaky hands. Suddenly a lot more sober than a few minutes ago.

Both movies sucked and when a giggling Eddie jokingly suggests some dumb high school party games, they all jumped at it and sat around in a circle to also keep the joint passing easier.

Then Jeff suggested truth or dare.

It was going fine too. They learned Jeff’s first kiss was in middle school with some girl who held his hand during some emergency drill. Robin had to balance a bottle on her head. And Eddie admitted he doesn’t actually hate all sports.

“Dare,” Steve’s mouth spoke before his brain even processed the words, hazy from the joint making it hard.

Jeff snorted as he handed the joint over to Robin, eyes flickering around before landing back at him, “I dare you to kiss Eddie”

Without missing a beat his body automatically moved and pressed a soft kiss to Eddie’s lips before it fully registered. It only hit him when he sat back down and then, he immediately jumped up and out of the room.

That’s what led him to right now. Mind racing, heart racing and panic rushing through him.

His ears are ringing and as he closing his eyes, there’s fast knocking on the door.

“Go away, Bobbie!” He sighs, leaning his head back on the door. There’s only a second before there’s knocking again, “this isn’t the time for a bathroom visit”

“Can it be an Eddie visit?”

Steve’s eyes go wide, “Please tell me this is Robin finally perfecting her Eddie impression”

There’s a surprised laugh, a laugh that makes his already fast beating heart go a little faster.

“Sorry Sunshine, it’s not your best friend.” Eddie knocks against the door again, wiggling the doorknob, “just Eddie here and I think we should talk”

He sucks in a breath before standing up and facing the door. Staring at it for a moment, hoping he’s not about to get hurt.

As he pulls the door open, taking in Eddie standing there with a small smile and a fading blush. He also has one hand behind his back, “May I come in, my liege?”

A startled laugh settles him as he looks over and finds Robin and Jeff giving thumbs up at him, he throws panic eyes at Robin before closing the door.

“Did you know, I once dared Jeff to kiss Frankie? It was during the first official corroded coffin band practice,” Eddie waved his hand around, “we were riding an adrenaline rush from finally figuring out how to get a good rhythm going. Gareth’s cousins stopped by and honestly I’d like to think it wasn’t my idea for the game. But” he shakes his hand before look directly at Steve with a smile, “decided to pass a beer around and all of the dares had been boring up until I pulled out the kiss dare on dear ol’ Jeffery”

Steve’s panic slowly left as confusion floods him instead. Eddie must see it, as he shakes his head with a smile.

“Okay, now that panic is not all over your face,” Eddie smiles wide and takes another step closer, “Jeff wasn’t really trying to,” he waves his hand around clearly trying to figure out the right words, “he wasn’t going after you, Stevie. I promise and I’d like to say sorry if it hurt you. And”

“and?”

Eddie stood still, movements slow as he grabs Steve’s hand, “and, I’d like another kiss. Because, babydoll, I really, really like you.”

All Steve can do is a soft laugh before closing the gap between them.

I’m not sure it turned out as well as I wanted or can picture in my head but I think like it.

Also! If you send any heart from this list I’ll write a little something ☺️

#heart ask game #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #jeff stranger things #nburkhardt writes #Jeff and Robin were playing match makers btw #they’re the best friends and clocked steddie liking each other immediately

[leclercenjoyer]

uh

"pierre?" charles says, voice small, "are you still awake?" the arm she has around pierres middle tightens, pulling them closer together. shes warm against pierres back. 

"what is it, squid?" 

"how did you know you were into guys?" and the question is so unexpected it throws pierre for a loop. theres layers to that question, she knows, ones that her sleepy brain isnt equipped to process at the moment. 

"dunno," pierre answers honestly, "probably some actor I thought was hot. or, you remember that drummer from that band i was really into-" 

"yeah but i mean like. actual guys. guys in real life." and charles sounds a bit frustrated, like pierre isnt getting it. 

"darling, what is this about?" Pierre asks, and grabs charles hand, strokes her thumb across the back of charles' hand, aiming for soothing. 

"i dont know if i ever… got that. you know that 'oh shit, hes hot' moment. i always thought everyone was exaggerating, or playing it up because they were supposed to. i thought i was supposed to." 

pierre thinks of teen nights spent in charles' room, reading girly magazines, how charles had never seemed quite as enthused now that she's looking back with the clarity of hindsight. she squeezes charles' hand, urges her to continue. 

"but now, with you, its different," and pierres heart thumps in her chest, but charles continues, "like, i get it now." 

"get what, angel?" pierre prompts, and she has an inkling of what charles is getting at, but she wants her to say it, knows itll help to put it into words. 

"what its supposed to feel like."

pierres breath hitches, and she curbs the urge to roll over and kiss charles silly, knows its probably easier for charles to get it all out like this, with pierres back to her. 

"i thought it was normal, just. you know, regular best friend stuff. i used to… god, this is fucking stupid, but i used to compare them to you. like, how i felt around them, versus how i felt around you. and they never matched up, not even close." 

and thats not something charles has ever told her before. theres so much, just in that statement, so much charles is trusting her with. 

"but it all makes sense, now," charles continues, "because with them i used to feel. i dont know, awkward. in the way. like i was playing a part and i didnt know my lines."

pierre laces their fingers together. 

"but with you it feels. right. you make me feel wanted. sexy, even. i never got that. before."

and the way charles is saying all this, pierre can tell shes been thinking about this a lot, knows her well enough to know shes been putting the lines together in her head, scripting it out as a way to put her thoughts into order. she squeezes charles' hand again, pulls it up to her mouth to press a tiny kiss to her palm, to the delicate skin of her wrist. 

"basically what im trying to say is, ive never felt like this about anyone, before you. and its a little scary but also not. because its you." 

and pierre cant take it anymore, has to kiss her right now, because she can, so she lets go of charles' hand and turns around in her arms, feeling around with her hands in the dark until she finds charles' soft cheek, finds the corner of her mouth with her thumb and leans in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. 

"ive never felt like this before, either," she says, voice earnest and choked, "like, ive been attracted to people. but ive never been in love before." 

and the words left unsaid in that statement ring loud in the silence, before, before. before now. charles freezes, and pierre freezes, heart in her throat, barely daring to breathe because shes laid it all out now, theres no going back, and she has a moment to worry shes fucked it all up, before charles pipes up:

"i think im a lesbian," she blurts out, and theres a beat of silence before she breaks into wheezing giggles, the sweetest sound pierre has ever heard, and fuck, but pierre loves her. 

"fuck, im sorry, im sorry, if i didnt say it now i was never gonna get it out," charles chokes out between wheezes, "hang on, hang on," and she takes a deep breath, trying to get herself under control, and pierre cant help her own little laugh. 

"easy, squid," she says, stroking her thumb across charles' cheekbone, waiting for her to calm down. it takes her a few moments, a few false starts where it seems shes gotten it under control before she breaks again, and pierre waits, because no. matter what, she will always, always wait for charles. 

"i love you," charles says finally, when she can catch her breath again, and its nothing they havent said to each other before, except, "im in love with you. youre it, for me." 

and pierres heart squeezes in her chest, lighter than its ever felt before, and she leans in to press another kiss to her lips. 

"youre it for me, too," and pierre is pretty sure its been coming for a while, but to have it laid out like this feels like. she doesnt have a point of comparison. theres nothing like this in the world, shes pretty sure, tripping headfirst into love with her favorite person in the world, and knowing she'll match her every step of the way.

"and congrats on the lesbianism," she adds, because she wants to hear charles' bright peal of laughter again, matches it with her own before she muffles them both with a kiss. 

#dont WORRY about what time it is. #anyway. #my fic #clpg #i have girls on the brain.

[hes-a-rainbow]

Heaven And Hell (Part Two) ~ e.m.

A/N: I’m not really sure if anyone is actually reading this, but if you enjoy, please share! I will be updating every Wednesday 🖤

Summary: After Noah's run in with Steve and Robin, she reminisces on how she ended up back in Hawkins. 

Warnings: self loathing, Steve being a babygirl, talks of body image (specifically after childbirth)

Word Count: 2k

(Divider by @silkholland​)

Part One

“You absolute dingus! Those were the chips!” Robin seems more concerned with the party snack food than the absolute bombshell she just dropped on Steve.

“Hold on a second,” He grabs Robin’s shoulder to prevent her from picking up the fallen bags, ”Did she tell you that was Munson’s kid?”

“Tell me? She didn’t have to! I have eyes!” Robin points to both of her eyes to prove her point even further. Steve can’t help but put his hands on his hips and roll his eyes, “You’re gonna have to do better than that, Robin.”

“It adds up, doesn't it?” Again, Steve can’t help but shake his head in confusion.

“How old do you think that kid is, Harrington?”

Steve’s whole mind is running wild and he gestures his hand in the air, “I don’t know like…two?”

“Wrong, my niece just turned six and I know a toddler when I see one. She was at least 3 or 4.”

“So? What’re you suggesting? Eddie’s been sneaking up secretly to New York to see Noah and he just never told us?” Steve swears he has no idea where Robin’s trying to go with this.

She throws her arms up in the air, and then mocks Steve’s stance, putting her hands on her hips, squinting up at him, “You really are just a pretty face, aren’t you?”

“Okay, uncalled for,” Steve goes to pick up the chips from the ground, hoping they're not completely dust by now.

“Okay, let me spell it out for you: Noah left Hawkins four years ago,” Robin sticks out her pointer finger as she begins her checklist, “She shows up four years later with a tiny little kid who just so happens to have a head full of brown curls, and big ol’ puppy dog eyes,” She sticks up her middle finger as she continues, “And I know you didn’t pay much attention in biology–”

“I passed, didn’t I?” Robin pushes her hand in front of Steve’s face, now adding her ring finger to the mix.

“9 months, Harrington! Which means, if my math is correct–”

“Which it usually isn’t,” Steve interrupts but Robin doesn’t miss a beat. “Noah could’ve easily been pregnant when she left.”

Steve’s eyebrows rise on his forehead, “You can’t seriously be suggesting…”

“I’m just stating the facts,” Robin’s hand drops down to her sides as a sullen look comes across her face, “But the timeline adds up, doesn’t it?”

Steve shakes his head,“No, there’s no way!” He runs a hair through his short locks in frustration, “She would never do that to Eddie. She loved him. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Look, after everything we went through,” A phantom twinge of pain shoots through Steve’s neck as he goes to place a hand at the base of his neck, the scar no longer physical but the memory remaining all the same. Robin notices, because of course she does, and she places a calming hand on Steve’s forearm, “We all dealt with the trauma differently…” Again, Steve outwardly cringes and massages the base of his neck; flashes of memories fill his head of how they all dealt with the aftermath of the Upside Down.

“Maybe–maybe she got scared and–and couldn’t handle being around here anymore. I honestly can’t blame her for not wanting to raise a child around here after everything she’s seen.”

Steve’s head still shakes, “No, no, absolutely not.” His eyes met with Robin’s again, “She wouldn’t do that to Eddie! She wouldn’t break his heart and then not tell him that she was having his kid. That’s not who she is. Or was or–or I don’t know!” He rubs his hands over his eyes. He can already feel a headache forming behind his eyes, something that had happened frequently for years due to the many beatings he took as a teenager. Robin moves her hand over Steve’s forearm, trying to offer him any sort of comfort.

“I know, and maybe I’m completely wrong and talking out of my ass but…”

“Yeah, yeah…” The pair have no more words to express as they both fill up the trunk of Steve’s car with the remainder of the groceries.

Steve shuts the trunk as Robin climbs into the passenger seat. When Steve clambers in, he pauses a moment before shutting his door, “We should tell him right?” He looks over his shoulder at Robin who is clicking in her seat belt.

“We don’t even know if she’s his.” Robin’s hand pulls the top of the seat belt as she tightens it slightly, hands urging to mess with something.

“No, I know, but we should at least give him a heads up that she’s back and coming tonight.” Steve finally shuts the door and leans his hands on the steering wheel, “And that she has a kid. He can come to his own conclusion. It’s a conversation they need to have together.”

Robin nods her head as Steve buckles in his seat belt. He can tell this whole thing had brought her down a few notches so he pats her knee lovingly, getting her to look at him again, “Hey, it’s your birthday eve! Let’s not worry about other people’s problems for once and have fun.”

A grin spreads over Robin’s face, “Let’s get fucked up tonight.”

“Oh we are so getting fucked!” Robins screeches before Steve can even realize his mistake. “Fucked up, I mean getting fucked up!” He turns the key over and the engine roars to life. He’s about to put the car in reverse when he turns back to Robin, “You know what? No, we are getting fucked tonight! It’s your fucking birthday!”

Robin claps before rolling down her window to announce to the parking lot, “It’s my fucking birthday!”

“Fuck, I look fucking stupid.” Noah whispers to her empty bedroom. Her hands smooth down the red dress she’s wearing as she examines herself in the mirror. She feels like an idiot. She should’ve never come back to Hawkins.

But she didn’t really have a choice did she?

After she moved with her parents to New York, she finally got accepted into a writing program at a college in New York City. She had always loved creative writing, spending much of her free time writing short stories about other worlds and mystical creatures. It was one of the first things that had drawn her to Eddie first. They were paired up in English class during their (his first) Senior year, the project was to write a short children’s story detailing the dangers of drug abuse. She had almost laughed when Eddie’s name was called after hers because everyone knew of his side business. She still remembers looking over her shoulder during class as the names were still being paired up around them. He had looked up at her from the back row like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. It was the first time she had really looked at him and she had always wondered why she never really noticed how handsome he was before.

But no matter how exceptional of a writer she was in Hawkins, Indiana, it didn’t compare to all of the talented people in New York City.

Life started to spiral pretty soon after she had left. The trauma of the events from the upside down followed her no matter how far she went. But it wasn’t until a few months after leaving Indiana that her life truly changed.

Scarlett was born on a crisp spring morning and Noah’s entire world had changed. She suddenly had another person to take care of and who she was responsible for. Everything she did from there on was for Scarlett. It was hard being a single parent, and she very quickly realized that she would have to leave the city and move upstate with her parents.

She had quickly stopped writing, not having much inspiration (or sleep) to really concentrate on a story long enough. She worked odd jobs, temporary secretary positions while bartending at night, or flipping burgers at a local 24 hour diner.

No matter how long she was away for, her heart always lingered in Hawkins. She thought about her friends everyday, wondering what they were doing and what was going on in their lives. But mostly she thought about Eddie. His smile, his laugh, his overwhelming personality.

She suffered from nightmares frequently, the events of the Upside Down playing out differently every night, but they had always ended the same; with the light leaving Eddie’s eyes as she held him. It terrified her even all these years later. Even when she knew he was alive and healthy in Hawkins. Her frequent phone calls with Pops had usually ended with a whispered  ‘how is he?’. Pops never needed to ask who she was referring to.

But the universe really does have a way of tricking you. Her mom had gotten the call from Pops that he had broken his leg and Noah jumped on the chance to head back to Hawkins. There was nothing keeping her in New York anymore. She would swear she only came back because Scarlett barely knew Pops, only seeing him when he came to visit for holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas, but she knew deep down that what she really wanted was to go home.

And now here she is, 9pm on a Friday night back in Hawkins. Except now, she doesn’t have to sneak out of her window to hop into the beat up van parked at the end of the street. She knows Eddie will be there tonight, because why wouldn’t he? He was as close to Robin as she was.

A big part of her fears that he will take one look at her and berate her, saying all the things she has secretly thought about herself over the years. She knows he would never do that, and knows her brain is just messing with her but intrusive thoughts have a way of sneaking in, don’t they?

Her right hand automatically goes to the only ring she wears on her left hand. It’s a silver skull; mouth open almost as if it was taunting her. Eddie had slipped it on her finger as they both recovered in the hospital. His wounds were more severe than hers and she was discharged soon after having her arm stitched up and face cleaned off scratches. But she had stayed on the pull out next to Eddie’s bed every night.

It wasn’t until the third night as they laid side by side, watching some shitty tv movie on the hospital tv, that he took her hand and slipped the skull on her ring finger without a word. He had huffed out a laugh when it had fit her tiny fingers perfectly.

‘Would you look at that?’ He had whispered, ‘It was meant to be.’ She had looked over at him silently, his eyes closing slowly as she noticed his pain meds finally kicking in. She had thought it was a fluke, something he had said while high out of his mind but that next morning he held her hand and his thumb traced the skull silently. She was about to tell him he could have it back, had even moved slightly to tug it off but his hand had grabbed her wrist to stop her.

‘It’s yours now.’ His voice sounded confident but she had felt the tremble in his hand, ‘Think of it as a placeholder.’ She hadn’t known how to reply, simply leaning over to place a loving kiss on his lips.

It was less than two months later that she would break his heart.

She had planned on getting rid of the ring, the memories it came with breaking her heart all over again every time she looked at it, but she couldn’t find it in herself to get rid of it. It somehow felt like that would be the definitive end of her and Eddie and that was too much for her.

So she kept it. She moved the ring to her middle finger now, feeling like that was somehow slightly better.

She stares down at the skull ring now, her heart beating just a little bit faster as the memories whirling around in her head. She has played out every scenario in her head of what she would say to Eddie if she ever saw him again, but she also knows that Eddie is as unpredictable as they come and however their first meeting again goes, she wouldn’t be able to practice for it.

Noah takes a deep breath, again pulling down the edges of her dress just a bit more as if it would magically become longer. Her body looked a lot different than she had when she was younger; growing a human inside of you could do that to a person. Her hips stick out a little more and her stomach never really went back to how it was before Scarlett. As grateful as she is for her wonderful gift of a daughter, she is also very aware of how much her body has physically changed. It also didn’t help that she hasn’t gone out since Scarlett was born; she feels like a mockery of her former self as she stares at her reflection.

She sighs, grabbing her faithful leather jacket off the foot of her bed. It may almost be June but the spring nights in Hawkins have a habit of still whipping around the winds of winter.

She checks on Scarlett one last time, the toddler fast asleep in her tiny bed, before shutting the door quietly and heading down the hallway. She can hear the tv playing from the living room before she gets there as Pops sits comfortably on his recliner.

“I put Steve’s number on the fridge, so please call if you need anything. I’ll be home right away.” She leans down to place a kiss on Pops’ forehead. The older man looks up at his granddaughter, pride flashes through his old eyes, “Look at you! You look beautiful.”

She rolls her eyes at him, not being one to take compliments so easily, “Thanks, old man.” He scoffs and turns a little more towards her, finding difficulty with the giant cast on his leg.

“When was the last time you’ve gone out?”

“Oh probably…” She humors him as she knows exactly how long it’s been, “3 ½ years.”

He points at her, replying, “Almost four.”

“Almost four.” She repeats the words Scarlett has been saying for the last few months.

“Well have fun tonight, kiddo. And don’t worry so much, you may have forgotten but I’ve raised a few kids quite successfully in my day.”

Noah chuckles, recalling her mother and her uncle, “Well one out of two, isn’t bad.”

“Eh, you’re lucky I like you so much.” She gives his hand another squeeze before heading to the front door.

“I mean it,” She sees Pops’ head move over the side of his trusty recliner, “Have fun tonight. You’re only 25 and you still have a whole life ahead of you.” He turns back around to watch whatever tv program that was on tv. Noah snorts, Pops always had a way of saying something very profound than acting as if he just told you what the weather was outside.

“Love you!” She calls out before gently closing the door behind her.

…..

Steve’s house hadn’t changed much in the past four years. It looked like his mom had added some new bulbs around the garden, but other than that, everything looks exactly as it did in 1986.

Noah locks the car behind her, a habit she obtained from living in the city, and heads up the walking stones to Steve's front door. She’s only an hour late but it sounds as if the party is in full swing already. She can feel the vibration of the newest pop song pumping under her feet as she reaches the porch. She raises her hand to press her finger against the doorbell but pauses as she feels a wave of anxiety wash over her.

Taking a step back, she stops, mind filtering unrealistic reactions everybody might have when she walks through the door.

They’d hate her. She had left the people who had fought the literal end of the world with her. Surely, they wouldn’t be so quick to forgive her.

And yes, she had stayed in touch with them at first but she could hear the hurt in their voices even all those miles away. Steve and Robin had definitely told everybody about Scarlett already, and even if they hadn’t, small towns had a funny way of spreading gossip around.

Would they be mad that she didn’t tell them? Would they even want to hear her side of why she didn’t tell them?

She shakes her head, trying and failing to also shake the thoughts out of her mind.

She should leave, she should go back home now before anyone sees her. She’ll call Robin tomorrow, wish her a happy birthday, tell her Scarlett was sick and she couldn’t come out, maybe offer to take her out to lunch.

No, no she couldn’t do that. She had already retreated from them four years ago, she couldn't do it again, it wasn’t healthy.

Her internal struggle is cut significantly short when the front door swings open.

The man who she had thought about every day for the past four years swaggers out onto the porch with an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth. He looks up, quickly noticing someone else on the porch.

It takes his brain a millisecond to process exactly who he’s looking out and Noah holds her breath before his imminent reaction.

But Eddie is anything but predictable as he pulls the cigarette from his mouth and a large smirk comes across his face.

“Hey Slugger.”

#I love writing himbo steve #heaven and hell #Eddie munson #Eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson fanfiction #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson blurb #Eddie munson smut #Eddie munson one shot #Eddie munson oneshot #stranger things #strangers things 4 #st 4 #stranger things fanfic #Eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson x oc #Eddie munson x oc fem!reader #Eddie munson angst #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

[docwritesshit]

Who needs a soulmate when I got you?

Authors note: Have Shoji on the mind today, wanted a cute little soft fic to read back to. Honestly, one of my favorite works. I am weak for this man.

Warnings: Mentions of bullying, homelessness.

Type: pure and sweet fluff.

Paring: Mezi Shoji x Kusari (OC) (let me know if you want her backstory and timeline I have planned out)

Soulmates. The ones we were going to stay by our side no matter what. The ones who were our ride-or-die, who we dreamed of meeting since the symbol appeared on our left ring finger the day our quirks finally manifested.

Soulmates. The empty promise of forever if yours doesn’t imagine you would be the one they end up with. The crumb this society gives you so you could slave away to make the feast for it to feed on. The red string that remind you of selfish hope that maybe they will find me, maybe they will care for me.

I hate to say that was my reason to keep on going while I was in the streets days after my family kicked me to the curb because of my quirk and it’s ugly “things”, meaning the lines if chains curved around my body. I would run miles to find who I was connected to on my and his birthday, and it would always be the same indigo haired boy with deep purple irises, playing with a cat that resembled the one on my finger. It gave me hope, hope he’ll be the one to care for me.

That dream was pushed aside when i got caught up with the Shie Hassaikai and Kai Chisaki, tasked with caring for Eri along with him and that whole shit show with her blood and the raid. The raid haunted my dreams, the evil look Chisaki gave me as I summoned chains around him to give the heros time to escape after blocking the bullet headed for Eri.

I met with my soulmate again after I was offically enrolled in UA, switching between both hero classes to get a feel of different quirks and so each had a chance to fight with a ‘villain’. I wasn’t that mad about it, I was with Eri and I had stable food and shelter, all I could need.

But my heart still skipped a beat when I saw the boy who was my soulmate walking the halls. His indigo stood up at all sides, and his beautiful violet eyes were now paired with dark eye bags. That just made him stand out more. I subconsciously rubbed my gloved finger where my symbol was.

Honestly, I tried. I tried to strike up a conversation. At lunch, in the halls, hell even walking back to the dorms. He gave walked off and gave me a glower. It took me five separate times for me to just give up.

The final nail in the cofffin was when walking past all the rumors and gossip that was being thrown around of me suddenly appearing in the hero course during lunch, he joined in, laughing with his friends I was in a psych ward until my parents money got me out and into UA, taking his spot in the hero course.

Fuck him, i hadn’t needed him while I was thrown ou, on the streets, or even in the fucking yakuza, who says I need him now?

I focused more on my few found friend in the hero course, all already knowing the story and brushing off the rumors. But one person compelled me out of them all.

Shoji was similar to me in some ways, we both covered the physical consequences our quirks take out on us, his mask and my insistence on wearing leggings and gloves during a heat wave. He even made me more comfortable touching people without my restraints so I didn’t accidentally glean some guilts of unsuspecting people. He was just what i needed after the shit show that was my childhood on the streets and a gang.

Which was why I was standing in front of his door in the middle of the night, after following a red string, only to hear low cries and sobs coming from the other side. I brought my gloved fist up, rapping my knuckles on the wooden door.

“Shoji? Are you there? Can I come in?” I asked, trying to keep my voice low. The crying stopped.

Shuffling, and footsteps getting louder.

The door creaked open to find a dishelved mess of a hero student, hair unruly, eyes red and puffy, and his tank top looking like he hadn’t changed in the last few days. It was clear he just frantically pulled his mask on as well.

“Umm, hi.” He said, his left hand fidgeting with the end of his mask. I smiled, casting my eyes into the room. He got the hint, moving away from the doorway. The rooom stood as bare as the day he moved in, a bed palette and a small table with a mat.

I fully faced the man, taking his hands in mine. He stiffened as I rubbed my thumbs on the top of his hands, feeling the roughness even through the gloves.

“Breathe with me, ok?” I suggested. He nodded. I closed my eyes as I inhaled, peeking a bit to check if was doing the same. I held it in a bit before exhaling with Shoji mirroring my actions. We repeated a few times, me leading him to the palette on the floor and sitting both of us down.

“Ok, do you want to talk about it?” I asked. He looked down at me, the height difference making it so. He nodded after awhile, taking one of my hands and fidgeting with it, an action I did when we were hanging out with the others and just needed to calm down.

“It’s… my soulmates birthday today. And… she hasn’t tried to…” He chocked up, a few new tears pooling in his eyes. I got on my knees to wipe them away before they could stain his mask. He took a shallow breathe, and continued.

“I found her early on, she was following the string to me in the playground, and screamed. She ran off, and every time I would see her after, she would just cower in fear. When we got older, she stopped being afraid, and instead, she was disgusted. Pulling my mask down in front of everyone in the cafeteria and laughing. She would spread rumors, and gained sympathy as who wouldn’t for the girl destined to be with the monster?” He swallowed, taking a few breaths. I bit back my frustartion of the audacity of cruel children. I dealt with a few in school who made fun of my markings before my parents pulled me out and locked the door on me.

“I just.. wanted her to show she cared, even just a little bit.” He let go of my hand, head hung low as tears fell before I could wipe them. I bit the inside of my cheek, throwing caution to the wind. I held his shoulders and lowered his head to my shoulder hoping he couldn’t feel the thumping of my heart in my chest, running my fingers through his hair, trying to style it to it’s normal state.

“She is missing out,” I whispered,” She doesn’t see how much of a great person you are. She doesn’t look past appearances, and that’s someone I personally wouldn’t want in my life.” I started rambling without even realizing it.

“You are in Class 1-A, the clas that went through the most shit and pulled through. So she doesn’t see your resilience, your strength.” My other hand started to trace his shoulders.

“She doesn’t see these ‘monstrous’ shoulders constantly hold the weight of the world during missions. How they can’t break, no matter how people try to.” I traced his biceps.

“She doesn’t see these ‘freakish’ arms as the ones that scout to make sure everything is safe and people can do as they please. The absolute talent it is to control each and every limb to make it do what you want. Even then, they are the ones that give the best hugs on the worst days. These arms that lift your friends up and spin them around just so they could laugh.” I held his hand, fidgeting with it like I always do.

“These hands that you let me play with so I could calm down, the ones that get me my favorite dinner. The hands that lift everyone in this class up, the rocks of this class.” I locked eyes with him, wiping stray tears.

“These eyes that witnessed horrors unimaginable, and still find the good in this world. The eyes who saw my past actions through phots and videos, who saw me still and still looked at me with kindness, fully aware of his other friends apprehensiveness. The eyes I stare at and know I’m safe with you. They eyes I imagine to get me out of my guilt trips. This man in front of me is not a monster, but a gentlemen who is the sweetest person I have ever met.” I finished everything with a smile, his eyes so big, so full of… something i couldn’t pin point. He sat up, taking my hands again.

“Do you mean that? He asked, eyes narrowed. I bit my lip and nodded. He let go of my hands, his creeping up to his mask. I tilted my head, was he really?

“If you’ll allow me, I feel… like I can more comfortable doing this.” He said, fingers hooking under his mask. I nodded, letting him continue. When his mask fell around his shoulders, I took in the view. His mouth was marred with scars, his mouth it self was jagged and wide. I smile, placing my hands on his cheeks and tracing some scars.

“And now I know another thing she couldn’t see. The smile that now brightens my day.”

Shoji’s face relaxed, and gave me a toothy grin. What surprised me was him grabbing me by the waist and lifting me up off the floor as he got to his feet, spinning me around. I yelped in surprise, and tried to stifle my giggles as it was late at night still and I knew Bakugou was on this floor.

Shoji put me down after a bit, wrapping his arms around my waist and nuzzled his head in my neck, his breath ghosting over my skin, causing goosebumps to rise and my heart to beat faster and faster.

“Why couldn’t we be bound?” He mumbled, the soft question making his chest reverberate.

That made a light bulb go off in my mind, and I smiled up at him.

“Who says we need to be with our soulmates?” I asked. He stiffened, pulling away and placing his hands firmly on my shoulders.

“Kusari, no. You still have your soulmate out there-“ I stood on my tip toes and help a finger to his lips.

“Yes I do, and I found him.” I say. He started to back away, but I held his hands in place. I’m out letting him push me away. Who needs that dipshit? I found my true soulmate.

“He doesn’t care for me. I stopped caring for him when I heard him take part in the rumors and laughing with his friends. But we found eachother. We know each other, and we care for each other. Who needs those damn bullies? They can have each other, I want you.” I stated, pulling him back in, and hugged as tight as I could.

He stood frozen for a spilt second before reciprocating, deep chuckles coming low and deep in his chest, the most beautiful noise I could hear. That I was blessed to hear.

“Promise me you’ll keep that energy if your soulmate comes crawling back after he’s seen what he’s missing?” He asked, smile evident on his lips. I smirked, looking away in mock thought.

“I’m not sure.. he is handsome?”

“More than me?”

I grinned, and shook my head, “Nah, your handsome both in and out, his soul is just straight garbage. But promise me the same. You won’t go back, even if she pleads?” I asked.

He looked over to his table, walking over and reaching under it. He pulled out a photo, coming back over and gave it to me. I took it, seeing it was a printed school photo of his soulmate. She was stunning, her face sharp framed by straight black hair and wide eyes that were filled with diabetes inducing sweetness.

“I think I found a better soulmate anyway,” he said, taking the photo and ripping it up. I smiled, collecting the scattered pieces from his hands, stuffing them in my pocket.

He grabbed my hands once again, looking me in the eyes in permission. I nodded, and he slid the gloves off, another arm forming a hand to grad the discarded gloves. I saw the guilts I have seen so many times before, kids shrieking in terror at his attributes. But those same things that made him be called a monster were the ones showing me such affection, taking my hands up to his lips and leaving sweet kisses along the knuckles. I smiled, taking his hands and mimicking his actions. I reached for my gloves, but he held them over his head.

“Nah, not yet. You have one more kiss left.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, but got the hint when his other hands lifted me up a bit and he leaned his head down. I closed my eyes and let it happen, relishing in his softness. He was so gentle, making the kiss linger long after we broke away. I smiled dumbly, and hugged his neck

“Oh my dinosaur,” I whispered. He snorted at the childish nickname I gave him a few weeks before.

“I think I like this better than our original plans the universe had for us.” He said.

“Yeah, me too.”

#mezo shoji #mha #my hero academia #shoji

[satinsatan420]

Love In The Darkness PT.2

TW: Fem!MC, MC!Melissa(My MC), Cussing, Infidelity, NSFW (MINORS DO NOT ENTER!!!), Drinking.  AS ALWAYS LEMME KNOW IF I MISSED SOME SHITTT :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sat quietly as I waited for Diavolo to return to the garden. I finished off my glass of wine, and decided to pull my D.D.D out to see if anyone had messaged me. And of course, I had missed calls and messages from Lucifer. Honestly, I was surprised he hadn’t shown up yet. 

I decided that I was going to go home and finish the conversation Lucifer and I were having before I left. I pulled up our messages and started typing.

Melissa: Lucifer, I'm going to be coming home tonight. If you want to talk, I expect you to be in your study when I get there. If not, then that’s perfectly fine.

Lucifer: I will be there, you have my word.

Lucifer: Melissa?

Melissa: Yeah?

Lucifer: Thank you.

As I put my D.D.D up, Diavolo came running out of the house. “I got it! Here, this is for you.”

He handed me a beautifully wrapped box, with black wrapping paper and a golden ribbon. “Geez, Dia. You make me not want to open it with how beautiful it looks.” I giggled. He smirked and replied “Please, it’s nothing. Now. Open it!” I chuckled and shook my head. 

Once I opened the box, my heart sank. “D-Dia…” I whispered. He had given me a beautiful golden ring, with a heart-shaped black diamond in the middle and black diamonds going down the sides of the ring.

“Well? Do you like it?” He asked. I looked up at him and smiled. I quickly stood up and wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “I love it, Dia. Thank you. Thank you so much.” I whispered into his ear. He wrapped his arms around my waist and returned my hug. He dug his face into my neck, placing small kisses.

“My treasure…” He sweetly whispered into my ear. “Hm?” I replied, perfectly content being in his grip. He let go of my waist and pulled me back to look me in the eyes. As he looked at me, he had such love in his eyes. “These past few months have shown me what I’ve already known…. I love you deeply, more than I’ve ever loved another living being. I want to ask you… Will you be mine forever?” I looked up at him with tears in my eyes.

I stretched up to lock my lips onto his. Hungrily, yet passionately. We stayed like that for what felt like forever. When I finally pulled away, he looked at me and smiled.

“Dia… I love you too. But…” The smile on his face dropped into a look of confusion. My heart started aching seeing him like this, but I had something I needed to do before I became Diavolo’s forever. 

“There’s just something I need to do first. But I promise, I’ll be back in the morning. Okay?” He gave me one last kiss. “Okay, darling. I respect that. I shall send Barbatos to bring you back here when you wake up.” I smiled and nodded to him, then walked out the door, with Barbatos of course.

Once I arrived at the House of Lamentation, I made a B-line to Lucifers’ study. The alcohol in my system and the adrenaline making my heart beat faster and faster. I didn’t even stop to talk to Mammon as he was calling my name when I walked in. 

Once I got to Lucifers’ study, I heard his shoes hitting the floor as he paced back and forth, possibly waiting for my arrival. I knocked lightly, and within seconds, Lucifer opened the door.

“Hello there my lo-.. Melissa. Please, come in.” He looked down to the floor, embarrassed. I gave him a half smile and walked in, sitting down on the couch he had in his study.

“Would you like anything to drink?” He asked me, shutting the door and walking to the shelves with all of his drinks lined up. I nodded and said “Yes, please.” He pulled down a bottle of human whiskey and poured me a glass.

He handed me the cup, and sat a good 2 feet away from me on the couch. I rolled my eyes, and downed my drink. He looked at me, puzzled. “Is everything okay?” He questioned. I sat the glass down on the table and stood up.

“No. Everything is not okay, Lucifer. Look at us. Does this seem okay to you?” I angrily said to him. Between the wine and the whiskey, my body was on fire. Liquid courage, if you will. There were so many things I wanted to say and do, so many emotions flying at me at once, I felt like I was going to be knocked over by the storm that awaited me. 

He stood up and shook his head. “I agree. This isn’t okay. None of this was supposed to happen.” He quietly said. I felt tears starting to form in the corner of my eyes. I fought them to stay back, but the tears just started flowing.

I paced back and forth for a minute, stopping in front of Lucifer. “Was she better than me?” I looked him in the eyes, and his eyes got wide. “What?” He questioned. I stood up straight and repeated myself. “Was she better than me? The woman you slept with? Was she better than me?” Lucifer took a step towards me, not wanting to get too close and cross the boundaries. 

“No one could ever compare to you.” He replied. He looked at me with sadness in his eyes. It seemed like he was finally putting his pride to the side and actually having a real, heart-felt conversation. Of course, me being as drunk as I was, had the courage to do what I’ve wanted to do since the day Lucifer found me sleeping in bed with Dia. 

I walked up to him so we were almost touching. “You sure?” I questioned. “Positive.” He replied, without skipping a beat. I quickly reached up and grabbed him by the coat, pulling him down to catch his lips on mine. Within seconds, he was kissing me back. He wrapped one arm around my waist, and the other softly cradling the back of my neck. I reached my hand up and ran my fingers through his raven hair. 

After a few minutes, he pulled away and looked at me. “Darling, you’re drunk. We shouldn’t be doing this.” He stated. I rolled my eyes at him and replied “When has that ever stopped me from getting what I want?” He raised a brow, a questioning look on his face.

“Lucifer, I’ve wanted to do this for a while now. If you don’t want to, that’s fine. But this is the last chance for us to be together, just for the night. Tomorrow, I’m leaving to be with Diavolo. The choice is yours.” 

He pondered on the question a little too long for my liking. I bit the inside of my cheek, and pulled my dress straps back up. As I started opening the door, I felt him grab my arm and swing me around. 

Instantly, his lips were back on mine. Hungrily and possessively. He pushed me up against the door, lips never leaving mine. 

I started unbuttoning his shirt, and ran my hands up and down his chest. He ripped off mine, his hands instantly grabbing and squeezing my breasts. 

He then picked me up, and carried me to his room, slamming the door behind us as he tossed me on the bed. He then climbed on top of me, lips meeting each other once again. 

He started tugging at my pants, so I lifted myself off the bed to let him pull them off. He was placing sweet, gentle kisses along my thighs as he was removing my pants and underwear. I let out a small moan at the feeling. 

“Mm.. Even after 3 months, I see you still haven’t forgotten what I like.” I moaned out. Lucifer smirked, and started moving circles with his tongue around my clit. I moaned louder and arched my back. He looked at me with Lust and sadness in his eyes and said “Darling, you are the love of my life. Everything about you is burned into my memory.” I couldn’t reply. 

My heart was pounding, my mind was filled with thoughts of Lucifer and Lucifer only. Even after everything that happened, and even though I promised myself that I wouldn’t go back to him, I found myself thinking about how I didn’t want this to be the last time I felt his touch. Not just sexually, but in general.

He pulled me out of my thoughts by inserting two fingers into me, causing a loud moan to fall from my lips.

“Mmm… I don’t know how much longer I can hold back, darling. I’ve missed you.” Lucifer whispered to me. I looked at him and nodded my head. “Then don’t hold back. I need you, Luci.” 

He placed one last sweet kiss on my inner thigh before he stood up and removed his pants and boxers. He quickly climbed back on top of me, and pulled me into another loving kiss. He grabbed his cock and lined himself up before slowly pushing himself into me.

“Ahh~ f-fuck you feel s-so good” I loudly moaned. Once he bottomed out, he started dragging his cock in and out of me. Lucifer started thrusting harder, reaching up to grab his headboard for more leverage. A loud moan came from the demon on top of me. Lucifer was always very quiet during sex. 

Hearing him moan for the first time triggered my orgasam. My walls tightened around his cock. I threw my head back in pure bliss, screaming his name as I came. This only made him moan louder. “Mmm, my my darling -ahh- that w-was pretty fast.” Lucifer said in between moans.

I wrapped my arms around his back and pulled his chest into mine, his thrusting never slowing down. He nuzzled his face into my neck, letting out low moans. 

His thrusts started becoming uneven, signaling he was close. I lifted my hips off the bed to let him hit the angle that always drove us both wild. I felt another orgasm washing over me, I pulled his face towards mine for a kiss. We moaned into each other's mouths as we both came.

Once we both came down from our highs, Lucifer pulled out, kissing the top of my head as he headed to the bathroom to get a warm cloth to clean us up. Once that was done, we both laid in his bed.

Lucifer seemed really uneasy. He was laying on the edge of his side. I put out my arms and said “Luci? Please come here.” He looked at me, shocked. But he scooted himself closer. I gently laid my head on his chest. 

“You were really vocal tonight. I’ve never heard that before. I wish you would’ve done that more often.” I giggled. Lucifer finally wrapped one arm around me, the other gently stroking my hair. “Well darling, you said I let my pride get in the way too much. I figured since you said this was our last time together, I’d force it aside. For you.” He replied. 

I felt tears starting to trickle down my face onto his chest. I lifted myself up to look at him. He had sadness in his eyes, which made me cry even harder.

“I don’t know if I want this to be our last time, Luci… I still love you.” I mumbled. Lucifer grabbed my head and placed it back on his chest. He continued stroking my hair, and kept whispering “I love you too…” and “We’ll figure this out together, like we always do.” Until I drifted to sleep.

#OBEY ME #obeyme #lucifer obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #Diavolo x MC!Melissa

[jessicaslittlelovesickmess]

Dancing- Sarah Paulson

Warning: Angst

Warnings:Angst

Reader x past Olivia Colman

Reader x current Sarah Paulson

There you were after all these years, dancing in the middle of the crowded room surrounded by everyone and all the children who managed to stay awake and wanted to join you. Bending down to dance with some of the younger ones with a giant smile plastered along your glowing face but looking up you meet the same gaze of your ex-lover. A single teardrop slides down your cheek as you begin to frown, feeling all the pain and memories hit you like a ton of bricks you look away pulling out a fake smile.

Olivia ran from the situation, you had looked so happy and you were just not until you saw her again. Her actions had caused you even more heartbreak, your daughter began tugging on your dress gaining her your attention ''yes little love?" brushing a hand over her head ''I'm tired mommy can we go see mama now'' yawning into your leg. ''Of course, baby let mommy grab her things'' picking her up you gathered your belongings and left.

Walking your daughter to school with your wife Sarah a few days later you spot her again. It felt almost as if she was stalking you, she sat out front of a cafe watching your every movement, your gaze meeting before you looked away grasping Sarah's hand a little tighter. ''Hey baby you alright?'' she whispered into your ear ''I'll tell you about it at home'' you hastily respond. Looking back to find her gone.

Once home you begin immediately telling Sarah everything that's happened the past few days ''doe's she know?'' Sarah softly asked grabbing your waist and pulling you onto her lap ''no.. she ended it before I could tell her'' you began sniffling ''it's alright baby'' Sarah began softly pulling your head into her chest.

Olivia should have been happy but she wasn't, she ended things, she broke your heart but why was she so hurt? After the party she just had to see you again, see if she could change things hoping if she asked you'd take her back. Until she noticed you with that blonde woman and a little girl who was a photocopy of yourself, honestly hoping that woman was a friend not noticing the ring on your finger or the hands entwined.

When school finished you and Sarah decided a walk in the park would be good a nice calm place to tell your daughter some news. You nervously played with your hands gulping rather loudly, how were you supposed to tell your daughter everything she knows is a lie?

Sitting down on a park bench you took Ophelia's hand in your own Sarah sitting on her other side. "Ophelia love we need to tell you something" you started softly the beating of your heart becoming harsher. The small face turned slightly to look up at you "so... baby" Sarah looked at you smiling softly "before you were born mommy was dating someone". "What? Mama? Is that true?" Ophelia screeched "yes.. but just listen" Sarah answered her politely.

"Ophelia... her name is Olivia and she's also your mama" you admitted hesitantly "so..." "so mama isn't my mama?" Ophelia asked sadly tears welling in her eyes.

"No no no I'll always be your mama we just don't share the same DNA" Sarah spoke pulling Ophelia into her arms.

Ophelia had been quiet for some time "alright, I love you" she whispered nodding her head in Sarah's chest "I love you more little one" kissing her head repeatedly.

Looking past your girls you spot her once again staring straight at you, standing you make your way towards her anger growing throughout your body.

"Olivia, what is it you want?" I yelled trying not to cause a scene "you, I made a mistake" she admitted eyes locked on yours until the soft grass became more interesting.

"Of course Olivia but you're too late" I whisper yelled at her "what do you mean?" She looked upset "I mean you're too late Olivia, I just had to tell our daughter that everything she knew wasn't true".

"O-our daughter?" Olivia stuttered "yes you daft cow, our-my daughter mine and Sarah's" I spoke clearly trying to make my point known.

"You can meet her if you'd like just not now" I offered hoping what I'm doing is for the best "no funny business" I walked back to the girls leaving Olivia to think.

Sarah pulled me into herself kissing my temple as Ophelia hugged our legs Olivia watched the scene as I pulled the small girl to rest on my hip. Her heartbreaking she swallowed walking from the park "I love you Y/n" she whispered leaving the grounds.

#sarah paulson imagine #olivia colman imagine #sarah paulson #olivia colman #sarah paulson x reader #olivia colman x reader

[dirtbag-linecook-kyloren]

also i have adhd so every time somone interacts I get dopamine related to this fic and that’s definitely helped writing

have a tidbit I just wrote because I’m having a weird brain day so it’s Sad Girl Writing (it’s just a chemical imbalance everything is fine I’m honestly getting a lot done for being what I call a numb brain day)

---

His clock ticks on the wall as the rising sun imprints the shadow of his blinds on the far wall. From bed, Hux can pretend he’s stuck in a world out of time, that seconds falling away are just beats on a metronome, not the passage of his finite life on Earth but just rests in a song he’ll start playing when his part begins. Fingers twitch phantom notes, a combination of concertos he played, when he still had the time. There’s a keyboard sitting in the corner of his room, dust coating the plastic. It never had the right feel, so Hux stopped playing it. Hux took the day off to focus on his school work, gave his shift to Finn, but his alarm goes off anyway, phone ringing in the room. He’s been up for a few hours, laying just like this and staring into the middle distance. It feels like he should get out of bed, feels like he should climb into the shower and start his day, but his limbs are heavy and his mattress magnetic. How easy it would be, Hux knows, to hide under his blankets from the light of the day. He could curl into his sheets and disappear from the world, leave his phone across the room and let hours pass in a haze, only the beating of his heart and the breathing of his lungs to prove he’s even alive. How nice, he thinks, to just stay in place, pretend he is a statue and wonder if he’d be art, or simply decor. Still, he needs to silence his alarm, so he claws his way from the comforter and stands, trudges the few feet to his dresser and unlocks his phone. Since he’s already standing, Hux makes his way to the bathroom, eases the weight in his bladder and splashes water over his face. It’s not a full clean, but it pulls him out of this feeling a little bit, allows him to make his way down the kitchen and pull granola from his cabinets, pouring himself a bowl to eat dry because finding milk is too much effort. Ben bought him this, he knows. It’s an idle thought, something he sits with as he shovels toasted oats and almonds through his lips and chews. Everything tastes like dirt, but Hux knows that’s his mood, and not the food, so he keeps eating, lets himself get lost in the repetitive motion. Idly, Hux wonders how Ben is. Is he yelling at someone? Is he fine? Is the restaurant busy, or is today just a slow and lazy Wednesday morning? Out of the corner of his eye, the light for his answering machine blinks, reminding him that one saved message is in the cordless phone’s small data bank. It’s a relic, something Ben had made fun of his for bothering to have, but Hux is grateful for it, even now, even as it serves only to haunt him. Selfish, Ben had called him. Heartless. Too busy trying to leave the restaurant behind to think about all the things it had done for him. Hux doesn’t want to leave. He’s been dreading his last day, dreading saying goodbye to all his friends. But if his presence is killing Ben that much, Hux will go. In a trance, Hux sets his bowl down, going over to the answering machine and hitting play. The saved message is the only thing left to play, so Ben’s voice fills the room. “I hope your happy,” Ben’s voice slurs, just like it had the first time he’d heard it. There’s a rage in it, one Hux hasn’t heard in months. It feels ironic, for them to be back right where they started. He took the long way around, just to end up standing in the same place, nothing gained and everything lost. “All this fucking time you spent with me, and you couldn’t do one stupid thing for me. Couldn’t meet my fucking parents. I just wanted them to be happy for me, you selfish, heartless asshole. Do you know how hard it is, to see your face every day? How much it hurts to try and act like I don’t fucking know you? Like you’re just a stranger? Fuck, I can’t fucking believe you, you piece of shit, I hope you-“ And the voice mail cuts off, and it’s a moment before Hux realizes he’s crying. Tears run from his eyes to his cheek, dripping onto his thighs as he sits on the floor in front of the answering machine. He has a week left of torturing Ben, of torturing himself, and then they’ll both be free. Hux will be worse for the loss, but it’s a feeling he’s growing used to. So is the heaviness in his heart as his quiet crying turns to violent, wracking sobs.

(I had to cut out a spoiler but it was like a sentence don’t worry)

((I love making hux sad bc I get to use my own internal dialogue it’s a mess up there))

#hands off hands out #kylux au

[kobedivision]

“I used to waste my time dreaming of being alive, now I only waste it dreaming of you.”

Introduction

Ren Nakashima, also known as Vox in rap battles, is a rock musician famous for his dark and twisted romance songs that are a hit with teenagers and young adults. A total heartthrob, he’s adored by both women and men alike but he doesn’t pay attention to them as he only has eyes on his muse, his darling.

Ren is a young man in his quite early 20s, he’s of very tall height with a lean structure. He has ivory pale skin, on his neck and right shoulder is a tattoo of thorns. On his head sits neck-length raven black hair tied back into a messy half bun, he has a pair of crimson red eyes that seem to glow in the dark.

Ren wears a blood red, long sleeved v-neck shirt and black ripped jeans along with a black leather jacket. Multiple chains hang from the belt loops of his pants, on his hands, he wears an assortment of rings on his fingers and multiple bracelets and bands on his wrists, on his ears are helix and lobe piercings. For footwear, he wears black boots with red soles.

Name Meanings

Ren (蓮) - lotus

Nakashima (中島) - middle island

Aliases

RenRen - Kaiji

Panther - Max

Vox (Stagename)

Handsome, Sexy, Beautiful, etc.

“The Music Incubus”

“Japan’s Hottest Musician”

Biographical Info

Gender - Male

Age - 20

Birthday - June 26th

Ethnicity- Japanese

Hair Color - Raven Black

Eye Color - Crimson Red

Height - 190cm / 6’3

Weight - 70kg / 155lbs

Star Sign - Cancer

Piercings - Lobe, Helix

Markings - Tattoo of thorns on neck and right shoulder, Tattoo of a rose on his left forearm.

Family - Father (Deceased)

Mother (Deceased)

Younger Brother

Younger Sister

Voiced By - Suga/Agust D (Rapping)

Fun Facts

MC Name - Vox

Occupation - Musician

Division - Kobe

Team - Lovesick

Position - Leader

Favorite Food - Curry

Least Favorite Food - Lobster

Likes - Music, Writing songs, His guitar, His siblings, His muse.

Dislikes - His siblings getting hurt, His guitar damaged, His mother, Anyone getting too close to his darling muse.

Hypnosis Microphone

Ren’s Microphone is a black microphone on a stand, the microphone itself is red in color while the stand is black. A metal chain is wrapped around the stand and goes down to the bottom of the stand where an array of skulls and roses encircle the bottom of the stand, both the skulls and roses seem to be splattered with a red liquid that looks suspiciously like blood.

His Speaker takes the form of a giant human heart that still beats even when idle, one singular round speaker placed in the center of it. On each side are skulls that are as big as the heart, the empty eye sockets are replaced with roses and the mouths are opened to reveal large speakers inside.

His rap ability, Saccharine Lullaby, allows him to put his opponents in a deep, soothed, trance like state, rendering them powerless and open to attack.

Ren’s raps are based around how protective he is over his friends, family, and city. How much he longs to be with his darling muse and how he’ll viciously and explicitly torture and maim anyone who gets in between them.

Personality

Ren, when he is not in his stage persona, is a pretty laidback and chill guy. He’s easy to get along with and is friendly with others, it’s hard not to get along with him. Even though he likes to joke around and tease his friends, Ren tends to act more like an older brother, especially towards those younger than him, he honestly can’t help it, it’s mainly due to practically raising his younger siblings. As nice as he is, Ren does have his sarcastic and witty moments, he can dish out as much as he can take it, which is a lot by the way, it’s usually all in good fun but when push come to shove, he can and will verbally cut somebody down.

As his stage persona, ‘Vox’, his personality takes a bit of a turn. He becomes way more teasing, a bit mean, and quite sadistic. He moves with high confidence and complete swagger, he also becomes a lot more seductive, his heartthrob tendencies really shining through whenever he’s performing or interacting with fans. Overall, it’s the complete “bad boy” persona but with how well Ren acts the part, one has to ask which is personality is real and which is the mask?

Only Max and Kaiji know this but Ren is quite obsessive, once he sets his eyes on something or someone, it’s all he can talk and think about. He makes it his personal mission to learn everything about his object of interest/affection, even the parts that most would find useless and not worth leaning, Ren would find it the most remarkable thing he ever heard. While it might not seem strange at first, the more he learns, the more obsessive he gets and that’s when things get dangerous…

Background

Coming Soon.

Trivia

Ren got scouted by a talent agency when he was 17, he used to play acoustic in bars and cafes as a way to make money.

His siblings got him the guitar he’s always seen with after his first concert. He calls it Cherry and treasures it deeply.

He’s fluent in Chinese, English, Korean, Spanish, and Tagalog

He’s collaborated with many bands and idols, the most popular one being his collaboration with the band, 86.

He has many fans and fan clubs as a result of his fame but Ren hardly pays attention to them, sure he’s grateful for their support but he only has eyes for one person.

Ren is the most stable in the group…which is not saying a lot.

#hypmic oc #hypnosis mic oc #hypmic #hypnosis mic #hypnosis microphone #ren nakashima #lovesick #kobe division #character bio

[gjrlfront]

antique jewelry moodboard

#moodboards <3 #antique jewelry #my heart beats for the middle left ring HONESTLY #I wish I knew how to make these transparente hmmm

[halcyon-wings]

A random passerby is here, in your inbox, to humbly request some Ensemble Stars content: Rinne with a crush or s/o who likes to accompany him whenever he goes and loves acting as his lucky charm ??? I may or may not be prone to addiction myself and something about the impulsiveness of gambling is just extremely fascinating to me... thank you for reading, have a pleasant [insert time of day] (✿^‿^)

rinne with a lucky charm crush !!

hi y/n can i borrow you for a sec. nothing personal i just think i could win genshin 50/50s w u around. that is all. please do not deny my request. i am begging you. also dedicated to a certain rinneP,, ring a bell? :)

features a gn!reader and rinne amagi, who probably needs the luck (mentions of asobi too! there’s a reason for this i swear lmao)

<3 he met you during an asobi meeting

<3 no i am. 100% serious he met you during an asobi meeting

<3 everyone was pulling for characters on a gacha in this restaurant right?? and you were also eating there??? AND THE SECOND YOU WALKED PAST THEM EVERYONE GOT THE CHARACTERS THEY WANTED????? wh. hu. WH-HOW?????????

<3 needless to say they all found out stuff about you via the waiter (apparently you were a regular!) and begged you to join them

<3 so now, you’re stuck as gacha luck

<3 rinne though? he tends to drag you around left and right a lot more than the others. you don’t really mind, though he does occasionally get a bit.. cheeky

<3 it’s the middle of the night. you’re at a casino and rinne’s hitting win after win after win, a fistful of money in his hand and a sackful in yours. he turns to you, grinning. “if i get this next one, you and i are gonna go on a date.”

<3 “this late?” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “yeah, right.” you turn to walk in the other direction only for your hand to be grabbed. rough, maybe a bit calloused, but you can feel the warmth.

<3 “please? just…” he scratches his head, chuckling a bit. the tip of his nose and ears have a faint rouge to them. rinne locks eyes with you and you swear your heart must have stopped beating at some point. now it’s pounding and you can’t help but feel a slight adrenaline rush while looking at him.

<3 he seems to notice how he acts, considering how his eyes now widen a bit. he breaks out into a quiet laugh as he grips your hand just a bit tighter, going so far as to kiss the back of it and looking up with a sly grin. “cat got your tongue, doll~?”

<3 good GOD this dude. huffing, you pull the lever for him…

<3 … and win. actually, you get a jackpot.

<3 sigh.

<3 rinne isn’t cheering or lording his win over your head. instead, he still has his hand intertwined with yours as he gives you a smile. not a sly one, just… a smile. one with so much.. well, honestly, you aren’t quite sure what it is, but for some reason, you happen to feel just a bit more fluttery.

<3 a date is a date and a bet is a bet. takebacks aren’t allowed, but honestly? neither of you really mind all that much.

<3 just you, him, and the streetlights at night.

#mocha scribbles #mochanons wishes #heeheeeeee :) #i like writing longer reqs!! these r fun haha #also y/n can i still have your luck :i get thrown: #enstars #ensemble stars #ansuta #rinne amagi #rinne enstars #rinne ensemble stars #enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #enstars hcs #rinne amagi x reader #rinne enstars x reader

[hisunshiine]

To All The Men I’ve Fucked Before ; (M) jjk

↣ When your secret 'sex' journal entries are somehow texted to the people they were written about, including a couple of coworkers and your best friend, you find your quiet work existence turned upside down. based off of TATBILB.

moodboards | playlist | Netflix ReImagined BTS Masterlist | TATMIFB masterlist 

↳ #NetflixReImaginedBTS: Jeon Jungkook x Reader starring in a fake dating au, photographer!JK, stylist!Reader

⟢ pairing: photographer!jungkook x stylist!reader

⟢ word count: 30.7k

⟢ genre + warnings: nsfw 18+, fake relationship, smluff © & angst, kissing, fluffy fake relationship cuteness, jealousy, jungkook needs help with feelings, clothed humping, explicit sexual content in the form of unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, body worship, cunnilingus, fingering, handjob, hickies, blowjob, creampie, begging, strip tease if you squint, baby petname, crying, feelings of heartbreak, oh did i mention angst? namkook fist fight, minimal arguing, minimal blood, other idols make brief appearances, OT7 is present 

⟢ summary: When your secret 'sex' journal entries are somehow texted to the people they were written about, including a couple of coworkers and your best friend, you find your quiet work existence turned upside down. based off of the netflix film and novel by jenny han, but different.

⟢ an: hello, hello! this is probably my favorite story to date that i’ve written and the longest one shot! I am so grateful to everyone who helped me by reading this (most are not on tumblr), but especially my baby hana, @taestulip​, who always reads and hypes me up. the movie/book series it’s based off of is honestly one of my faves, and turning it into an adult version was a lot of fun! I know i took out some characters and changed a lot of the plot devices, but for good reason, as it is it’s own novel, I did not want to encroach on that territory. fake dating au’s are some of my absolute faves and so i hope you enjoy this! sorry for the length, sksksks.

⟢ prologues: NJ & Reader | Love Triangle (coming soon) |

The large glass building was located on the corner of the block, in the heart of the city. A sight to see from all corners of the downtown area, you loved that you worked at BigHit Music. Of course, housing the globally recognized idol duo, SeoulM8, made working there fun. You walked into the building, and swiped your badge as you made your way through the secured entrance and up the elevator to your office. 

The gold plaque on your door highlighted your name and position. To this day you’re still in awe to see your name engraved in sans serif with the words “Lead Wardrobe Stylist” written beneath it. You entered the office, flipping on the lights and smiling at the large board along the back wall. It was covered with the designs you would need for the upcoming shoot for SeoulM8’s fan content, first single off their newest album, and plans for the concert wardrobe as well. 

Placing your empty insulated coffee tumbler on your desk, you set down all of your belongings, organizing your design tablet, notebook, and favorite writing utensils before once again taking the tumbler in hand. A cup of coffee would be perfect to start your busy Monday before your meeting with Jimin and Taehyung about their wardrobe later today. 

Walking into the employee lounge area, you set about making your coffee. Others walked in and out, dropping off packed lunches and grabbing coffee as well, so you can’t help but hear the gossip as two of the women who work with SeoulM8 discuss the latest office drama.

“I can’t believe it. She broke up with him!” Becca said, her colorful pixie cut swaying slightly as she shook her head.

“She’s crazy, Jungkook is gorgeous; have you seen his thighs?” Theresa responded, twirling her dark purple curls in wonder.

You stirred in the caramel creamer slowly, listening to their conversation. Jeon Jungkook and Jeon Somin (no relation) had been dating for almost as long as you could remember. It was surprising to hear that they were broken up. 

“Somin is really pretty too, though, she could have any guy… What if that’s what it was?”

“You think someone better than Jungkook came along and wooed her?”

“I mean… I swore I heard a rumor that she went out on a date with one of the actors, but who knows. All we know for sure is that Jungkook is single.” 

Finishing your coffee, you closed the lid to your favorite cup and left the room, smiling politely to Becca and Theresa who provided you with the information that had your head reeling. The entire walk back to your office, and even once you were seated at the desk, you couldn’t stop thinking about Jungkook and Somin.

Somin was one of the first friends you made at BigHit School for Music and Artists when you transferred in after completing your AA requirements at another university. BHSMA operated differently than traditional universities, converting students to employees at the company associated with the school. It was where you met Jungkook, Jimin, and a few other people that you worked closely with at the company. After that first year though, you grew apart from some of the people you spent that entire first year with, making new friends, like the one walking in through your office door.

So lost in thoughts of the past, you almost knocked over your perfectly made coffee onto your design tablet, where you had been sketching aimlessly. A dimpled smile was the cause of your quickly beating heart, complimenting the face of Namjoon, who startled you when he called your name loudly.

“Joon, I swear, one day, you will be the death of me, and my electronics.”

“Listen, you dropped your phone all on your own, no one told you to be scared when I walked into the room.”

“Stop being so fucking loud when you enter, you startle people!”

He just laughed, his pretty eyes disappearing as he expelled joy. Namjoon was glowing, his tanned skin looking healthy and youthful. You couldn’t help but smile at him as he pushed his falling platinum hair out of his dark eyes and set his gaze on you.

“I think I’m gonna do it today, Y/N.”

You froze, smile still on display, but a little less enthusiastic than when he had first walked in.

“Do it?” You asked, wary as you saw his hand drift to his inside coat pocket.

“I love her, Y/N. I think I’m gonna ask her to be mine, always.” Namjoon removed a small velvet box from his pocket and you reached for it, hand trembling slightly. Namjoon, in his excitement, was oblivious to the way you shook, as well as the sound of your heart splintering. “Do you think Jennie will like it?”

Looking at the ring tucked into the box, you nodded, not trusting your voice. Of course Jennie would. It was beautiful. A rose gold band with an opulent Moonstone set in the middle, and two smaller diamonds set on either side. You knew that the moonstone was Joon’s favorite, he talked about how much he loved the moon countless late nights that you would sit with him in his studio.

“It’s gorgeous, Namjoon.” You said quietly. This time, he noticed the tremble of your voice, and stood worriedly from where he was perched on the corner of your desk.

“Whoa, what’s wrong?” He asked you, concerned by your demeanor.

“Nothing, I’m just so happy for you.” You lied, tilting your head back to blink away the forming tears. Believing you, he enveloped you into a hug and you hugged him back tightly, afraid to let go.

“Ah, you have a meeting soon and I’m here making you cry… I’ll see you after and tell you how it went! Good luck, Y/N!”

Namjoon exited your office, footsteps light as he headed towards his future… and away from you. Sinking into your chair, you take several steadying breaths in order to settle your heart. Why did it hurt so much? You had given up on the idea of you and Namjoon a long time ago. This wasn’t what you expected to have to deal with when you arrived to work, but you were a professional. Wiping your smudged eyeliner to clean up your makeup, you looked down at your design tablet, where you see the sketch of a professional camera held by a large hand up to a large doe eye half finished on your screen. 

Hitting the “new” button, you begin to draw anew on a clean canvas creating the concept for the concert design for your meeting with SeoulM8 later on.

—

Sitting at home, you massaged the soles of your feet as you rested on your couch with your younger sister, Yuna, who was doing her homework at the coffee table. It had been a long day, but Jimin and Taehyung loved your idea for their concert concept: young guys traveling Seoul for group songs, and angelic, soft individual images of them with feathered outfits to match their solo songs. 

“Yuna… Namjoon is getting engaged today.”

Your sister stopped working, turning to look at you with eyes wide. She had been diligently studying for the cosmetology courses she was taking at your alma mater in hopes of getting hired at the same company as you. This news threw her off track.

“What? He—wait, what?”

You nodded, letting out a deep sigh as you turned towards the floor to ceiling windows in the living room. Rain was steadily falling, the perfect backdrop to your mood.

“Both of our dreams are shattered. He showed me the ring and said he was proposing today. To Jennie.”

Yuna flung herself onto the couch dramatically. 

“Can we please drink to drown our sorrows? This homework can wait.” 

You nodded, turning on Netflix before getting up to grab the wine and glasses. While you stood on tiptoe at the edge of the counter, reaching up into the tall cabinet for the long stemmed glasses, the doorbell to your apartment rang.

“I’ll get it!” Yuna yelled, and so you clambered onto the counter, knees digging into the marble as you finally managed to reach your goal. 

“Oh! Namjoon?”

You almost slipped from where you were perched, confused as to why your newly engaged best friend would be loudly squelching his tennis shoes into your apartment and not ravishing his fiancee. You expected a text or call about the engagement, not a personally delivered update. 

You wouldn’t be able to pretend this time. 

Turning to look at the entryway, you see a downtrodden and sopping wet Namjoon, eyes rimmed red from crying.

“Joonie?” Your voice was soft, questioning. He maneuvered across the kitchen with just three big steps and pulled you into his arms. His body slotted between your thighs where you sat on the counter after almost falling, and he let loose a sob that broke your heart even more than earlier.

“Joon, what happened?” You asked, scared.

“J-Jennie… she said no.” Your eyes widened in shock, but you waited patiently for him to continue. “She’s moving to Japan, she took that expansion position… She broke up with me.”

—

It was a long night to say the least. 2 wine glasses turned into 3 once Namjoon had shown up. You grabbed some of his spare clothes for him to change into, threw his stuff in the washer, and joined Yuna and him back in the living room where they had both curled up and began watching The Start Up on Netflix. 

Climbing onto the couch, you wrapped your arm around him and placed your head on his shoulder. He kissed your forehead before settling in to watch TV, and you couldn’t help the way your heart reacted to it. He had always been affectionate with you during your time as best friends, though it had lessened some the more serious he and Jennie became. The difference now was that this time, he was single. A part of you hoped it could mean more in the future. 

By episode 2, Namjoon was asleep on Yuna’s shoulder; no surprise considering how tired he must have been. He had cried on his way to your apartment, and the last of his tears onto your shirt when he arrived. Luckily, you hadn’t yet changed out of your own work clothes, so when you grabbed his garments, you took the opportunity to change into a spaghetti strap tank and sweatpants for couch cuddling. You turned off the TV as you untangled yourself from him, stretching as he roused slightly from your movements. 

“Don’t you two just look like the sweetest couple,” you say yawning, gently teasing your sister who was beet red from your words. Her crush on Namjoon was nothing new, but not something she wanted him to know about. She already knew she was too young for him; seen as nothing more than his best friend’s little sister. A part of Yuna was jealous that you had better chances with him than she did.

“Shut it!” Her whisper is harsh, but Namjoon slept on, unaware of the sisterly teasing. “I already know you’re gonna write all about this in your sex book!” 

You rolled your eyes, having forgotten about your old journal that you kept. You just shrugged, leaning down to gently wake Namjoon so you can put him to bed.

“Come on sleepy… Let’s get up and go to bed okay?” 

His large frame shuffled across the living room and down the hallway to your room. You heard him plop heavily on your bed, probably already asleep without having pulled back the covers. You put the empty wine glasses into the sink and straightened up the living room a tiny bit before you went to your room as well. 

Not yet ready for bed, you sat at your desk with the small lamp on, staring at the old journal your sister reminded you about. The image on the front is faded; you can barely make out what it used to be as you’ve covered it with doodles and stickers that are peeling at the edges. Opening it, you turned through the pages, taking in the lengthy entries about the boys you’ve slept with, starting with the one you lost your virginity to. 

Your finger grazed across the fancy calligraphy where you wrote his name at the top in a purple gel pen in. Jeon Jungkook. You laughed at the way you wrote about him, first describing him as a person before giving the intimate details of the experience, and finally ending it with a brief message of what you had wanted to say to him. Your eyes scanned the page, certain sentences catching your attention as you read it. 

“...and the way he held my neck when he first entered me, I think I’m in love.”

“He said it was his first time too. Does this mean something?”

“Jungkook, having you as my first… I want you to be my last. You looked at me as if the galaxies were reflected in my eyes. I want to feel the way you make me feel all the time. I hope that this does change things between us, but in a good way.”

You cringe a little, remembering how it didn’t turn out that way. Instead, after that night 5 years ago, you didn’t talk to Jungkook for a couple of days due to exam week. You texted him after your last test and he told you to come over; he wanted to talk to you about something too. But when you went to his dorm to see him and confess, you found him with Somin, your best friend at the time. They weren’t doing anything outrageous, just sitting on his twin bed in his dorm room talking, but you heard what she was saying through the door that was cracked.

Somin was confessing. You had no idea that she liked him too. It made your heart tight knowing that he had slept with you a week prior, and now your best friend was confessing to him. To be fair, neither of you had told the other about your feelings towards him. So instead of walking in and telling him how you felt, you left. He had texted you later asking what happened to you coming over but you lied, saying you had gotten busy. 

On the last day of the semester, Somin shared that she was dating Jungkook. Shocked and heartbroken, you wasted no time packing up your dorm for the summer and traveling home. Phone calls, texts, and plans to meetup became less frequent between your group of friends over the following semester until they eventually stopped. Did you stop talking to Jungkook and Somin… or was it them that stopped talking to you? 

Turning the pages, you move on from the thoughts of the photographer and stop at the next blank page. Grabbing a blue gel pen from the cup on your desk, you write with flair. 

Kim Namjoon.

How do I even begin to express how I feel about you? God, you make my heart flutter. I met you at a time when I needed someone. You were the bane of my existence at first, blasting your loud music from the apartment under mine. Going to yell at you turned out to be the best thing. You turned out to be the best thing. Of course, you had just started going out on dates with Jennie and you would be graduating a year ahead of me, but I knew that we would stay best friends. I mean, most BHSMA students intern at and get hired by the company. So for the longest time, I hid my feelings from you. That one night, before you and Jennie were exclusive… when we had sex, I thought my heart would burst. I never wanted a man so badly before that night. You are the moon in my sky, Kim Namjoon. What other body could pull an entire ocean from shore to shore? What other being could wrap me in love from beginning to end? Tonight you have just lost your moon. I am a terrible person because a part of me is happy to not be losing her moon. So now, I will climb into bed next to your sleeping body and hold you close as we sleep, and pray when the morning comes, in the light of the day, you will open your eyes and see me—the faint moon in the sky that has always been there for you. Maybe you will finally see me—and decide you want me too.

Setting the pen down, you reach for your phone. In your slightly drunken state, you decided to take pictures of each entry, in order to move these to a more secure environment and take your journal digital. You snapped a picture of each page (not that there were many) before you checked your phone for messages and plugged it in. You left your room to shut down all the lights now that Yuna was finished putting away her stuff and making her way to bed as well. 

“Hey, can I grab an extra notebook from your stash? I need to finish taking these notes on mixing hair colors.”

“Sure, it’s under the desk in the blue bin.”

She nodded and you continued past her, double checking the door to make sure it was locked before moving to throw Namjoon’s clothes into the dryer. Once satisfied that the house was in order, you went to your room. Yuna was standing over your desk, eyes reading your latest entry into the journal.

“Yuna! Get out!”

“This is beautiful though, he should see it. You need to tell him how you feel!” 

You shook your head.

“No. He just got his heart broken. It’s not the time to tell him.”

“You’re stubborn,” she whispered back at you, “you’re gonna lose him again!”

“Then that’s how it was destined to be. But I am not taking advantage of his vulnerable state.”

“You’re gonna be single forever. Spending every night with your baby sister, drinking wine because all the men you have ever loved have moved on!”

“Go to bed, Yuna!”

She shrugged as she walked out of the room, knowing that she was right. Deep down, a part of you felt like she was right too. 

Climbing into bed, you struggled to lift the covers over Namjoon’s slumbering frame before it pulled free and you could cover the two of you. As you settled into the bed next to him, he instinctively wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to his chest in his sleep. 

You knew that his dreams were imagining Jennie in his arms instead. 

—

That next morning, you checked Namjoon’s phone for his calendar. Having known him for several years, you know his passcode and that he keeps his work schedule exclusively on his cell. Typing in the code, 0613, you saw that his calendar stated that he didn’t need to go to the office until around noon. 

Lucky, you thought, eyeing the time on the phone. It was a little past 6:45am, and you had to wake your sister for her hands-on class before you got ready for the day. 

“Yuna! It’s almost 7,” you say as you knocked on her door and heard a muffled response. You headed back to your room and chose your outfit, knowing that the day would be busy and long with the concept photoshoot for SeoulM8 starting today. Choosing your outfit wisely, you climbed into the shower a few minutes later and spent at least a half hour just trying to cure the small hangover from the wine. 

Once dressed, you found Yuna packing her bag for class. It was getting close to 8, which is the latest that you could leave to be at work on time, so you wrote a quick note to Namjoon and ran back to leave it on the bed. His hand snaked out of the covers just as you were pulling your hand back, a gentle grip to your wrist holding you there.

“Y/N, thank you for last night.” His voice is like a bullfrog’s croak, and you chuckled. 

“Let me get you some water and some pain meds, okay? And of course Joonie, I’m here for you.” You leaned onto the bed with one knee, smoothing his hair back from his face once he’s released your wrist. “Always.”

Pressing your lips to his warm forehead, he pulled you down onto the bed with a hug and you can’t help but laugh.

“I’ve got to go! I’ll see you later, okay?” He nodded before he grips your neck, bringing his lips to your forehead this time. His lips linger longer than usual, and you shut your eyes at the tenderness of his kiss. 

“Go back to sleep, now.” You pulled away from him, going to grab the medicine and water before you and Yuna leave the apartment. 

—

You made it to work with extra time to make your coffee, so after you dropped off all of your extra stuff, you grabbed your tumbler and work tablet with all of your drawn designs for today’s shoot and made your way through the busy halls to the employee lounge. Today, the door was propped open for ease as it was a busier day in the building. 

You stood at the counter, stirring in the caramel creamer that you loved, when you felt a presence enter the room behind you.

“Y/N.”

Turning lazily, you cocked your eyebrow at Jungkook, who was standing awkwardly behind you. He had kicked the doorstop, allowing the door to close so that the two of you stood alone in the small staff kitchen. His hands were tucked into his joggers, while a white button down hung loosely from his frame. 

“Whats up JK?” You asked, expecting him to address something about the shoot. You hadn’t yet seen the men you were to dress, so you couldn’t fathom he was here to complain already about the costuming. “If it’s about the wardrobe, I haven’t even seen Tae or Jimin yet, so—”

“Actually, no. Um,” he rubbed the back of his neck before making eye contact with you, “I know that when we had sex that one time, it was great—”

Instantly, alarm bells went off in your head. What the actual fuck was Jungkook doing talking about the night you lost your virginity to each other?

“—but I just... don’t feel the same way that you do about me. You know? That was years ago, and yeah while it was just as good for me as it was for you, I’m not in love with you or anything, I just broke up with Somin too, so—”

“Jungkook! Wait—what are you talking about?”

“The text you sent me.”

“Jungkook, I haven’t texted you in weeks.” You looked down at the phone you had pulled out of the back pocket of your ripped black jeans, and opened up the messages. You noticed his text thread was now at the top. “Wait, what?”

Opening his specific thread you see the screenshot of the page from your journal that you took last night, sent to him. How the fuck did this happen? In your drunken state, did you send it to him? You begin to ramble as you throw the spoon in the sink with a loud clunk and begin screwing the lid on the coffee.

“Jungkook, stop. That was from a long time ago, it’s not recent at all, oh my god. I am so sorry you had to read that—you know what, I’m just gonna head to the set now. Okay, bye!” You breezed past him, feet carrying you out of the employee lounge with a swiftness. Once back in your office you stared at the horrid message, outraged at yourself for your drunken antics.

Drunk you must really hate sober you.

—

Work was just as hectic as you thought it was going to be. After the most embarrassing morning, you were summoned right away to a last minute meeting with Jimin and Tae, where you made minor changes to their wardrobe. 

“Y/N, you were always good at this in school, but damn. You are amazing now.” Jimin stared at you reflected in the mirror after you had turned his outfit into something fit for the concept with a few movements of the material that wrapped his body. Park Jimin, one of the few people you were still somewhat close with from that first year of school, was now a big shot idol, and one-half of SeoulM8. Kim Taehyung, his best friend, was the other part of the duo. He had met him after everyone split off after that first year. Going by the stage names Jimin and V, the two had met in their vocal lesson classes when Taehyung had switched his major, and BigHit saw potential in them. 

You walked with Jimin towards the set of the photo shoot, one of the bigger production rooms today due to the use of the second level. They would be posing next to a hole in the floor, feathers falling around them. Taehyung was already antsy to get started, and was playing around with Somin, who was one of the group’s managers, while he waited for Jimin to arrive back to the set. Now, it looked like the only person missing was the photographer. 

Walking to the fold out table set up at the back wall, you heard your phone chime. Opening to your messages, you saw a text from someone you hadn’t talked to in a while. 

“Seo Joon?” You question quietly to yourself, but before you could even read the message, you saw a similarly embarrassing photo above his reply.

“Oh God, oh God...” You clicked out of his message thread, ignoring the reply because you honestly didn’t care. What you actually cared about was if you had somehow sent the most recent entry of your journal to the last person on Earth who was ready to read it. Namjoon.

“Fuck. Oh no. Oh no.” Sitting there, you saw the message clear as day with the small read receipt that it indeed had been read by him. The door to the set opened and Jungkook came waltzing through with his assistant. Before the door had a chance to swing closed all the way, you saw Namjoon’s form enter the room. 

“Alright, let’s get started!” Jungkook’s voice was loud and called everyone’s attention except for Namjoon. His eyes were on you. He beelined your way, and you readied yourself to apologize to him, but before either of you could say anything, Jungkook interrupted.

“Hey Joon, good to see you hyung! I’m so sorry though, we got a closed set and need to get started… tight time schedule and all.”

“I just need to talk to Y/N.”

Jungkook took in Namjoon’s demeanor; eyes red, hair disheveled, voice wobbly. It was so unlike Namjoon to look this way that Jungkook looked at you before speaking. Your expression was confusing to Jungkook, as he knew Namjoon was your best friend. Your eyes were wide in fear with tears forming… when you didn’t say a word, Jungkook took charge. A part of him saw that fear in your eyes and wanted to protect you.

“Look Joon-hyung, normally I wouldn’t mind, but we need Y/N on set the entire time today. Wardrobe is important for concept photos, you can understand right? Maybe at break time or something?”

Namjoon nodded as Jungkook’s arm wrapped around your waist and he led you away from the table and back towards where the staging was set. When you finally chanced a look back, you saw the assistants leading Namjoon and a few other non-essential workers out of the room. Everyone else on set had watched the exchange between the three of you, including Somin. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the way Jungkook’s fingers curled around your frame.

At break time, you hid out, avoiding Namjoon who had, reluctantly, waited several hours until break was called. He would have to go into the studio soon, which you knew since you saw his calendar, and after the short 30 minute break, Jungkook retrieved you from the small side room you were hiding in when they resumed the next set of shots using black leather and wings. 

The shoot kept your thoughts off of the incident, as you so aptly decided to call it in your head, until it was time to leave. You walked out with a large group, stealthily making it to your office. You sat on the floor with your back to the door, reviewing how many received these drunken messages of yours, happy to see that only 3 actually went through, since most of them were no longer in your phone anymore or had changed their numbers. 

Park Seo Joon, an ex from your second year at BHSMA, had moved to Japan for work, and while he did respond, he figured it was a mistake and as the smart person he was, he noticed the date in the corner and was aware that it was old. You breathed a sigh of relief, glad to have avoided that potentially awkward scenario.

Hearing your phone ping, you checked the message and saw it was Jungkook. A series of messages came in from him, and you read them in succession.

Shaking your head, you stand, grabbing the white outfits from the rack an assistant had brought in earlier after the set change. Throwing them over your arm, you head off to the set in a rush, shooting back a quick text to let him know you were coming.

Most everyone from earlier was back on set, expressions showcasing various stages of irritation. You handed the clothing to an unusually quiet Somin, and lifted your now free arm to wave at the artists. Somin walked away, throwing quiet looks over at you and Jungkook, who you were standing near now that you had approached the table. Jungkook was leaning on that same table, arms crossed as he reviewed the printout of what was needed.

“You know they sent us an updated list 2 hours after we started shooting? While we were all here, they thought that we could somehow read their minds. Then when I uploaded and sent the file over to have them double check, they responded that we had to finish it tonight.”

“It’s annoying for sure, JK, but you know Jimin and Tae will deliver. Once they’re dressed I bet we’ll be done in like 15 minutes, max.”

He nodded, smiling at your optimism.

“Hey, are you gonna tell me what earlier was about? With Namjoon hyung?”

You froze, not expecting the question, but you were saved from having to answer right then, since Namjoon walked in at that moment. It was too late for you to go anywhere; you were standing too close to the door, trapped between the table and Namjoon, who looked hurt. Jungkook read the situation and took several steps away to give you some privacy with Namjoon. 

“You’ve been avoiding me all day. After that message—did you think that I wouldn’t read it? I just broke up with Jennie, Y/N, it’s… I’m not… You can’t just say this shit to me right now.”

“Namjoon—I didn’t mean to, I was drunk and I promise you it’s not what you think, I don’t feel that way, okay?” You try and take it all back, wishing more than anything that he hadn’t read what you had written the previous night. 

“You don’t feel that way? Are you kidding me? I read it!”

“No, I don’t feel that way, okay? I’m with someone else.” You lied. You hoped that he would buy it.

“Y/N, I’m your best friend. Don’t you think I would know?”

“Yeah, you're my best friend, but you and Jennie are always together, it’s been forever since we actually caught up, so yes, it’s recent okay?”

“Who are you dating then?”

You say the first name that popped into your head. The person closest to you.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“I don’t believe it.” His words come out harsh, and a part of you, the part that already feels like shit because Namjoon chose to be with Jennie a couple of years ago, lashes out in hurt.

“Why? Cause someone like him could never date someone like me?”

“Yes, Y/N. You guys are too different!” His voice was getting louder, and you knew that you had to do something in order to get him to believe your lie. So you do the only thing you can think of in your heated state. You take the several steps needed to cross the space between you and Jungkook, who looked up from where he was absorbed into his phone. 

“You ready?” he asked, looking down at your small frame. 

“Yeah baby, I’m ready.” Your hand snaked behind his head, and firmly grasping his neck, you leaned up on tiptoes as you pulled his mouth toward yours. You kissed him, and in his surprise, his free hands gripped your waist and he pulled you closer to him, before you were separating from him, slightly breathless. His grip tightened before it rested gently on your hip and you settled back onto your heels. 

You see the back of Namjoon’s coat trail behind him as he disappeared out the doors, pulling them shut loudly behind him.

You look back up at Jungkook, whose fingers squeeze your sides quickly to grab your attention.

“You’re definitely gonna have to explain after that kiss... baby.” 

—

Later that evening, you sat with Jungkook in his car. A black Mercedes Benz GT63S to be exact, with dark grey leather and a small bit of wood grain along the spacious dashboard. Your fingers trailed along the wood grain as you explained to Jungkook what happened, starting with the accidental drunk text messages, leading up to the reason behind your kiss. 

“So now what?” Jungkook asks, looking sideways over at you.

“I don’t know. I feel so stupid.”

“Look, Y/N… I think this could be mutually beneficial.”

You meet his eyes, a look of incredulity across your face.

“Please explain Jeon.”

“Look, earlier when I stepped in and kicked hyung off set, Somin was already eyeing the way we were behaving. She may or may not have texted me about it. Of course, I told her we were broken up, so she didn’t need to concern herself with my business. And then, when we came back to set, she made a face when they asked me to text you to come back too.” He smirked.

“I may or may not have peeped it, and may or may not have used it to my advantage. Of course, you kissing me definitely helped.” He glanced down at his phone as it lit up. Once again a message from Somin tiled above 17 other messages from her. He had been actively ignoring them while the two of you talked.

“So I say that we date.”

“We what?”

“Date. I can teach Somin a lesson about how to treat me and you can keep hyung off your back.”

“Teach Somin? I thought she broke up with you?”

“It was mutual. But this always happens. And I for one am tired of the back and forth. So this can teach her that other people want me, and I can move on, or she can stop with the drama and we stop breaking up every other week.”

You nodded. It sounded like a feasible plan, and you told him as much.

“So it’s agreed. We’re now together.”

“Not so fast, Jeon… I think we should have a backstory, get some things straight, set some rules.”

“Rules, Y/N? You sure know how to take the fun out of it.”

You rolled your eyes.

“When did we start dating?” you asked, ignoring his snide comment.

“We got together… at the beginning of the week. Somin and I broke up 2 weeks ago, though we didn’t make it public because she always does this shit...” he trailed off, before smiling back at you. “So yeah, let’s say we’ve been talking here and there everytime me and Somin would break up, and then we went on a couple dates during that first week we broke up and made it exclusive this week.”

You commit this to memory, then pull out your tablet and begin jotting it down with the stylus.

“Okay, so this is new, but we’ve been on each other’s radar for a bit. I think that’s believable, especially since we’ve known each other just as long as you and Somin have. How do you plan to make her jealous? It has to seem real, you know?”

“Trust me, she already thinks this is real,” he nods to his phone again, now at 28 unread messages from Somin, “so I think something that we can do is start arriving together. Maybe do little things for each other that are cute coupley things, be seen together. Kiss at work. Maybe I can sleep over a few nights or you at mine?” He winks at you.

“I thought you didn’t see me that way, Jeon.” You looked down at the tablet, furiously scribbling what he said in order to avoid looking at him and showing the way he caused your cheeks to warm.

“I said I wasn’t in love with you, babe, not that I wasn’t interested in sleeping with you again.”

“Yeah, well that’s off the table Jeon. This isn’t real.”

He just wagged his eyebrows at you seductively, but you laughed and moved on from it, reviewing the list you wrote out.

You made sure to underline number seven so he could see it easily. 

“And when does this end?” You asked.

“Um, I don’t know. I guess we just play it by ear. Let it be natural. Obviously not too early or too late, and it should be mutual. I mean, if Somin learns her lesson, we would obviously have to end things, but I don’t see that happening sooner than a month.”

“Okay,” you tilt your head, thoughtfully, “So we can re-examine this in like a month then.”

“So is this like a contract or what?” he jokes. “Want me to sign it?”

“Sure,” you say, playing along and offering him the stylus. He took it from your hand and signed his signature, and then handed you back the pen, gesturing for you to sign as well. You followed suit, a quiet chuckle as you saved the page to your tablet’s files.

“Wanna drive me home, boyfriend?”

—

Dating Jungkook was… interesting, to say the least. You were a little surprised when he texted you the next morning asking what your coffee order was, and you weren’t expecting him to be so punctual when he pulled up to your apartment. But as you and Yuna exited the apartment that morning, he was already parked at the curb, music a little too loud for the early morning transit, but you were thankful nonetheless. 

“Why are you taking us?” Yuna asked in her very blunt manner. She, of course, had heard of Jungkook, more so due to your falling out with Somin, but Jungkook took her question in stride.

“Because I’m dating your sister.” 

He handed you an iced caramel latte with a soft smile that you couldn’t help but return. Jungkook looked stunningly handsome, hair floofed to your desired preference and an all black outfit to match. His pants were the perfect fit to his well-toned body and the black bomber jacket gave him a bad boy edge that was softened by his doe eyes.

Yuna coughed, choking on her strawberry flavored poptart as you turned to look out the window. Yuna, seated behind you, hit the back of your seat.

“You’re dating him? And you didn’t tell me?”

“I wanted to be sure it was going to work out this time… He and his ex used to be on and off a lot and I didn’t want to tell you if they got back together.” You answer, mixing the truth into it.

“Ohhhh, I see. You a player Jeon? Gonna break my sister’s heart?” Yuna eyed him, pupils narrowed as they stared at him. 

He cleared his throat, not expecting to have to defend himself against the small pitbull in the backseat.

“Not planning on it, Yuna.” Jungkook reached over and took your hand into his large one, interlocking your fingers before he kissed the back of your hand sweetly as he released the brakes and pulled off. 

Walking into the BigHit building, Jungkook held the door open for you before placing his hand in the back pocket of your black skinny jeans as you walked to the elevator. You wore a black knit sweater that fell slightly off the shoulder, and you knew it looked like you two had coordinated outfits. His other hand held the strap of the backpack he had slung over his shoulder while you clutched your coffee and your bag. 

You started to walk off towards your office once you made it to your floor, but Jungkook’s hand on your ass pulled you back towards him. He leaned down to your ear, whispering quietly.

“Where are you off too in such a hurry?”

“Um, my office… why?”

“Come with me to mine first, let me drop off my bag and I'll walk you back.”

“Oh-kay?” 

Letting his pocketed hand guide you, you fell in step with him down the hallway. You passed several other people, including Jin, an actor signed to the company who was known for his gossip, who nodded their hellos to Jungkook before ducking their heads together or reaching for their phones. It felt like high school all over again. Jungkook removed his hand from the warmth of your ass in order to open his office door, to which he then pulled you inside. Closing the door, he backed you into it rather loudly. The windows in the door are frosted, but you knew that pressed to it like this, anyone who looked could see your outline against it. 

Jungkook pushed his body into yours, lips following suit as his hands found purchase on your hips. He kissed you languidly, the mint from his toothpaste clashed with your coffee, though not unpleasant. You kissed him back, enjoying the feel of his soft pout as it glided to your neck. He wasted no time in latching on, suckling your neck for a few seconds before he pulled away with a loud smacking noise. 

“I must say, we put on quite the show this morning. My roommate was out there, and he will definitely have everyone talking about our PDA.” He grinned, eyes still glued to your neck. “Once that hickey sets in, it will really be the talk of the town.”

You blinked, finally coming back to your senses. Of course. This was all a part of the plan. Jungkook stepped away from you, moving to put away his belongings in his office. You stepped away from the door, looking around as you willed your body to cool down. That kiss had been quite an experience, and you yourself had gotten carried away with the plan. 

Turning on the spot, you notice all the different camera equipment lining the walls, the beautiful still photography of various buildings throughout the city, but the most surprising was a photo from the first year you had all met. The picture had you, Jungkook, Somin, Jimin, and a few other friends in it; smiles wide as you stood at the fairgrounds you attended, ferris wheel lighting up the sky behind you. You walked towards it, taking in how carefree you looked, arms wrapped around Jungkook’s waist and his arms thrown over your and Somin’s shoulders, who was making the peace sign with both hands at her eyes. Jimin was making a silly face, arm wrapped around Somin’s waist. Simpler times.

You moved on, turning to the small polaroid camera and you couldn’t help but grab it. Turning, you snapped a photo of Jungkook, who was caught off guard. You took the developing film from the camera and set it down on his desk as he smiled at you.

“Hmm, that’s a good idea. Let me take a few photos of you, I can place them around my office.”

You tried to reject his idea, but he takes the photos anyways, pinching your cheeks and tickling you until he gets what he wants. Finally, 6 clicks later, he stood next to you, facing the camera to the two of you before he said your name softly. You looked up at him, and he surprised you with a kiss. That 7th click captured a kiss, and he placed that one in the back of his phone case.

“You are such a… a lover, Jeon.” You say, pointing at his phone. He shrugged, ignoring your jab.

“It’s something Somin always wanted me to do… I never did though. So seeing this will piss her off.”

You nodded, understanding. Everything he did had a purpose for getting at Somin in some way, shape, or form. You chided yourself that you would do well to remember that. 

—

Lunch was a whole new ball game. Used to sitting with Namjoon and Jennie, or some of your assistants, you were now eating lunch with Jungkook, who ate in the employee cafeteria. You followed his request to meet him there and stood in the doorway lost until you heard his voice call out to you.

Noting his waving hand, you wove through the circular tables until you reached the one he was at with Jimin, Taehyung, Jin, and Yoongi, a producer friend that you knew through Namjoon.

All of the seats were taken, but before you could stand there looking out of place, Jungkook scooted his chair out and all but pulled you onto his lap. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he nuzzled into your neck, breathing in your clean scented perfume and strawberry shampoo.

“Get a room, JK.” Yoongi said, face contorted with a mock look of disgust.

“What? She’s just so cute and warm.” His fingers drifted towards the hem of your sweater and disappeared up into the material, cold fingers pressed against the soft skin of your belly and you shivered with a giggle, pushing his ice box hands away.

“You’re cold as fuck, Jesus Jeon! Were you hanging out in a freezer?”

“You could say that...” Taehyung laughed while elbowing Jimin, and you raised an eyebrow at them, wanting in on the joke, too.

“He was reviewing pictures with us and our managers.” Jimin clarified, and you nodded. 

“I take it that Somin wasn’t very warm?” You asked, leaning more into Jungkook.

“Not at all,” Tae disclosed, “she was very icy, had a lot to say about our dear JK over here, didn’t she?”

“Nothing we haven't heard before.” Jimin answered, and the two laughed, but you didn’t find it all that funny. Hearing that Somin trash talked Jungkook to his friends while working didn’t sound like the kind of person anyone would want to date. 

“Well she can talk shit all she wants, she’s just mad he’s moved on.” You defended, and are surprised to hear a quiet ‘thank you’ just for your ears as Jungkook tightened his hold briefly.

“I really dislike that girl,” Jin said, “I for one will be glad to not see her trashy ass around the apartment anymore. You are a breath of fresh air, Y/N.”

You smile shyly at Jin, enjoying how well everyone seemed to have welcomed you into their group.

“So, Y/N, we were just talking about the party Yoongi was throwing. He and Hobi live together, and they’re throwing a small rager this weekend. You’re coming with JK, right?”

Oh, this was not something you were expecting. You hadn’t gone to a party with co-workers in a long time…

“Um—”

“Of course she’ll be there, she’s coming with me. Right, babe?” Jungkook’s doe eyes looked up at you and you couldn’t say no. It’s not like you had plans anyways. You nodded and smiled at him, and he leaned into you, lips seeking yours in a quick kiss. You feel your body react to it, like it had been doing since this started, and pulled back before he could turn it X-rated. 

“Okay, seriously you two, get a room.”

—

Standing in the mirror in your bedroom, you turned from side to side to take in your outfit. As a head wardrobe stylist, you had a pretty good sense of fashion, but liked to stick to basic pieces and blacks, dressing up your look with delicate jewelry or layered pieces. 

Tonight was no different. With the beginnings of winter creeping in, you wanted to be comfortable in the weather once the sun set. You had on black sheer leggings that disappeared into a cute black skirt with thin white lines that had a revealing thigh split. Your top was an asymmetrical design, having one long sleeve and turning into a bandeau style on the other side. You paired it with black velvet boots that had crisp white laces, then finished the look with a matching set of simple dangling skinny diamond earrings, bracelet, and necklace. 

Despite this thing with Jungkook being fake, you wanted him to still feel proud to showcase you on his arm at this party. People were already talking about the two of you, and tonight would fuel the gossip even more. You were nervous of course, knowing who typically attended these types of parties, but Jungkook had assured you that he would keep you safe tonight.

The polite knock on your bedroom door had you turn your head to the sound, a tossed “come in” over your shoulder to who you thought was Yuna, but revealed a very handsome looking Jungkook, who was in his typical all black attire. You stood there, body warming as you took in his height, broad shoulders, and long legs. 

“Wow.” 

His voice was low, but his eyes looked like they sparkled as he took you in. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Jeon,” you responded, reaching to grab your bag off of your bed.

Jungkook snapped out of the daze he was in and pulled his phone out of his pocket. 

“Let’s take a photo for the ‘gram.”

You nodded; for a second you thought he wanted to have a photo of you because you looked good. Posing in the mirror, he pulled you close by your waist and adjusted his phone to capture both of you in the frame. He took a few photos, switching poses slightly each time.

“Hey,” he said, gaining your attention. You turned to him, shocked when his lips met yours. You melt easily into the kiss, hearing the camera shutter click several times as you tangled tongues, his hand sliding from your waist to cup your butt and pull you closer. You were unable to stop the moan from his action, and when he pulled away, lips a bit fuller and pinker from kissing, he quirked his eyebrow at you, paired with his signature smirk.

“Y-You messed up my lip gloss,” you fake huffed, turning away from him to rummage through your bag to grab your gloss and reapply. Your attempt to avoid him from seeing the way he affected you didn’t go unnoticed, but Jungkook kept quiet on it.

“It was worth it, these pics are hot. Plus, you taste good. What flavor is that?”

“Strawberry,” you mumbled, still feeling the heat from the kiss warm your neck and face.

“Strawberry is slowly becoming my new favorite.”

—

Yoongi and Hobi knew how to throw a party. The music was playing at the perfect level that you could still hear people talking to you, a variety of alcoholic beverages were supplied in ample amounts, and several games were being held in various rooms of their home. 

Currently, you were seated on the couch with a few other women from the office. Unfortunately, one of them was Somin. Across the room, your ‘boyfriend’ was engaged in a game of beer pong against Taehyung and Jimin. They had challenged him solo, citing he was good at everything and didn’t need a partner. As you watched him toss the small ping pong balls into the same cup, you knew their concern was right. 

“Y/N, you and Jeon?” Seline, one of the girls seated next to you, asked suggestively.

“Yea,” you giggled, the cup of something or other making you a little... giggly.

“Color me a little surprised. He’s like, such a social butterfly, and you’re...” 

“Oh, Y/N used to be a social butterfly, but she thought she was too good for us back in college.” Somin piped up. 

Her statement caught you off guard. Somin was once your best friend, but when she started dating Jungkook, she had distanced herself from you, not the other way around. 

“I never thought that. Some people act differently once they start dating people though. I never changed.” You sat back with a huff, crossing your arms. She ruined the buzz the alcohol had given you. 

Seline leaned closer to you, interested to hear more. The other’s seated nearby also tuned in with interest.

“Oh, you knew them in college?” 

You nodded, and Somin got up and walked away from the couch, seemingly annoyed at the attention you were getting for being Jungkook’s new girl.

You told the brief backstory of your friendship, leaving out the obvious part of losing virginities and finding out your best friend confessed to Jungkook when you were on your way to do the same thing, but ending it on good terms, saying that it was just the process of naturally growing apart. 

Seline nodded, and you saw her eyes widen as she looked past you. Following her gaze, your eyes narrowed at the view. Somin was all over Jungkook. You weren’t exaggerating; both of her hands were holding on to him as if she was too drunk to maintain her balance. She was falling into his arms and he was holding her, one of his large hands pushing her hair back from her face and a look of concern etched upon his own. 

Two feelings hit you at once. Nausea at the sight of him looking so tenderly at her, simultaneous with a boiling fury of jealousy that it wasn’t you. 

“Looks like Somin wants him back.” Seline snickered towards the other girls, and you stood up abruptly. You made eye contact with Jimin, who’s eyes were unnaturally large as he registered the scene before him.

Jimin was relieved that Somin interrupted the end of the game so that he could escape before he had to drink more, but he also felt annoyed seeing her all over Jungkook. Jimin had been glad when Jungkook told him and Tae that he was done with Somin; even more glad when he heard that Jungkook started seeing you. 

Back in college, Jimin was the only person, other than you and Jungkook, who knew what happened between you two. Both of you had confided in him your actions and feelings for one another. Color him surprised when he found out that Jungkook was not dating you, but instead your best friend, Somin. He wasn’t sure what happened but soon after, you stopped being around as much and Somin was around all the time. 

Watching Somin pretend to be too drunk to function and fall all over Jungkook made Jimin purposefully search the room for you. Watching you stand, drink clutched in your hand, Jimin had a feeling something was about to happen.

The drink you were nursing was downed in its entirety within a single swallow. You were now several drinks in, and you were feeling the alcohol start to hit as you stood up fast. Pushing your shoulders back, you walked over towards your ‘boyfriend’, whose back was turned towards you, and slid your arm around his waist.

“Heyyy babe,” you leaned into his body, staking claim on Jungkook as you stared daggers at Somin. She had taken a few steps back when you had approached, but now, seeing the challenge in your eyes, she stepped closer once more.

“Ggukk-ah, I don’t feel so well...”

“Min,” Jungkook stepped out of your hold, hands moving to cup Somin’s face as she feigned weakness in her knees. The level of concern in his voice let you know exactly how he felt. You scoffed, not believing Jungkook would behave this way in front of everyone. He was the one who had came up with this idea for ‘mutual benefit’ and here he was fucking it all up.

“She’s fine, babe. She can handle her alcohol.” You felt yourself growing hotter, the alcohol actually having an effect on you, as it always had. Your increasing body temperature only made you more frustrated.

“Seriously Gguk, I’m getting so hot...” Somin reached for the hem of her shirt, and in one fell swoop she had exposed the lacey bra she wore underneath. You could hear people talking over the sound of the music, taking in the scene of a shirtless ex making a brazen show.

“Jungkook!” Your voice is no more than a harsh whisper, but he’s so scandalized at Somin’s action, the protective boyfriend in him coming out to aid in shielding her body from onlookers, he doesn’t hear you. 

You hate the sick feeling bubbling in your stomach, unsure if it's from watching your ‘man’ flirt with his half naked ex or if it’s from the alcohol not sitting right with you.

Throwing the scene one last look, you turned on your heels and headed off to the kitchen for a bottle of water, or perhaps, another cup of something stronger.

Walking past him and Taehyung, Jimin caught sight of the look on your face before you blew past on your way towards the kitchen and he knew he should warn his friend.

“Jungkook, hey.. Jungkook!” Jimin yelled, his voice louder the second time he called his name. 

Jungkook had been leaning towards Somin, hands cradling her face as he continued to speak quietly to her. When he looked up at Jimin, his face appeared slightly annoyed at the interruption as he was taking care of her.

“What, bro?”

“Um, your girlfriend? Y/N? She just went into the kitchen and she looked a little upset.” Jimin said, his face trying to communicate to Jungkook what it looked like that he was holding his ex that way and his new girlfriend had stormed off. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Jimin, can you?” Jungkook gestured his head towards the kitchen and Jimin thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head.

“How about I take Somin and you go find Y/N? Your girlfriend. Remember?”

Jungkook paused for a millisecond before depositing Somin into Jimin’s arms. He made his way to the kitchen, where he found you engaged in taking shots with Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jin, the latter of which was shit talking Somin with a smile. When you felt his presence enter the kitchen, you ignored him, gesturing for your now fourth shot in as many minutes.

Sensing the tension, Yoongi decided against more shots, instead leading Hobi and Jin out of the kitchen, much to Jin’s complaints of having to be around the ‘trashy tramp’. The three headed back to the party, a bottle tucked under Yoongi’s arm as Hobi carried the shot glasses out. 

“We were enjoying our new friend, JK. Stop keeping her to yourself,” Jin said with a drunken glare. 

Sighing audibly, you turned to walk out of the kitchen but Jungkook’s grasp on your wrist stopped you.

“Hey, why are you ignoring me like this?” He asked, confusion tinting his voice.

“Um, maybe because you’re supposed to be dating me and you were too busy with Somin to remember you even had a girlfriend.” You said back harshly, spitting the words at him with such vehemence you wobbled precariously on your heels.

“Come here.” Jungkook said, dragging you behind him through the bodies in the hallway until you had made it into one of the unoccupied back bedrooms. Shutting the door, he turned to you as he dragged his hand through his hair. The action only made him more handsome, tousled hair falling gently to frame his face.

“Look, it’s... complicated with Somin right now.”

“I get that you’re trying to teach her a lesson, see if you want to be with her or whatever, but not at my expense. You said mutually beneficial. Making me look like your second choice and embarrassing me does not benefit me.”

During your speech, you poked him in the chest several times, the alcohol starting to take its effect on you. Stumbling slightly, Jungkook caught you to steady you, keeping his hands on your waist. The warmness of his palms felt nice as he helped keep you balanced.

“You’re right, Y/N. I’m sorry. Like I said, it’s complicated. We dated for a long time. I still care for her. She’s... been making this difficult.”

“Oh? Difficult how? By faking being drunk so you can take care of her?”

“She’s a lightweight, that’s not fake,” he defended.

You were once close enough with Somin to know that she was not a lightweight, since she had been drinking at parties since she was 14; her earlier interaction was indeed, all an act.

“Whatever, Jungkook. So what is she doing that’s so difficult?” you asked, cutting him a look of narrowed eyes until he answered you.

He walked backwards, tugging you gently along until he was seated on the bed. You stood between his parted knees, waiting patiently for his answer. Realizing you weren’t going to drop it, he rubbed the back of his neck gingerly.

“She’s, you know.. She still texts me all the time, saying shit and sending pics and stuff. She says she wants me back, but I just,” he looked up at you, his doe eyes unable to hide his emotions.

“I don’t know if I believe it. I want to. But she’s hurt me, and I’m tired of it. I want her to feel how I felt.”

Your ire towards him faded as he opened up to you. Cupping his face gently, you leaned in and rubbed his nose with yours softly back and forth.

“You’re amazing Jungkook. Until tonight, you’ve treated me like a princess the entire week we’ve been dating. But she won’t learn if you give in. You’ve got me now, okay? When she texts you, text me instead. Don’t entertain her. She’ll think I’m not enough for you if you keep responding, and that doesn’t show her you can move on.”

You had sunk into him the whole time you talked to him, and he shifted your body so you were now straddled over his lap, head resting on his shoulder. You yawned sleepily, the loss of the anger leaving you feeling the tired effects of the alcohol. Unlike Somin, you were a lightweight, and 3 shots was over your limit.

As you got comfortable on Jungkook, he thought over what you said, smoothing your hair carefully.

“You’re right. You always were so smart in school... ” Jungkook said, and you nodded your head on his shoulder in agreement, humming an affirmative.

“Let’s get you home though, you’re halfway to passing out anyways.” Pulling out his phone, he ordered an Uber. He held you like that, your strawberry scent surrounding him until the Uber driver was outside. His hands gripping you under your thighs, he stood up and carried you out of the party, nodding bye to his friends and hosts of the party.

Placing you into the Uber, he climbed in after you and you curled into his lap, seeking his warmth in your drunken half-slumber. Jungkook chuckled, noticing the way his chest reacted to the action but ignored it. This was an arrangement, you seeking him out wasn’t real, and your anger earlier wasn’t jealousy, he told himself. You were worried about being embarrassed. He still loved and wanted to get back with Somin, right? 

As he looked down at you in his lap, enjoying the weight of you pressed against his body, he wasn’t so sure. 

“This the correct address, sir?” The Uber driver asked, verifying with Jungkook once he shut the SUV door.

“Yea, both of us are headed there.”

—

The weekend passed by fast. Waking up at Jungkook’s place Sunday morning had been a little shocking, but his bed was soft and clean, and smelled of him. You had snuggled deeper into the sheets until he woke you up to go get breakfast and get his car from Yoongi’s place. He detailed to you what had transpired to you being in his bed, expressed that he had not taken advantage of you, per rule number 7, plus the basic concept of consent, and promised to take you home as soon as Jin was awake and could take the two of you to go get his car. 

He gave you some clothes to change into, and while you weren’t surprised to find he had jeans to fit you, neither one of you asked or shared the obvious: they were Somin’s. At least the shirt he gave you was his, and you also stole a hoodie to wear. December may have only just started a week ago, but the cold was pervasive.

Breakfast with him was fun. Getting to know Jungkook again was just as exhilarating as it had been the first time, during that first year at BHSMA. He had changed, but in a good way. More mature, but still playful. An adult who was a hotshot photographer, but still humble and considerate. How someone could be built like that and have such a big soft heart was beyond you. 

The trip to get his car was slightly awkward, as Jin, Jungkook’s very nosy roommate, commented on how bad drunk sex must be with Jungkook if you were able to keep so quiet. 

“Somin was always so loud, I swear she was exaggerating. No one’s dick is that good; sorry JK.”

Once Jin dropped the two of you off at Yoongi and Hobi’s, it ended up turning into hanging out with them for a bit, talking about work and your relationship with Jungkook. Hobi swooned with oohs and ahhs while Yoongi cringed, faking disgust at such a cute story, as was his trademark. 

Jungkook apologized once the two of you escaped to his car, for both Jin being cringey, and for staying longer than anticipated with Yoongi and Hoseok, but you weren’t mad. You enjoyed meeting his friends and getting to know them. You were only a little concerned because Yoongi was also friends with Namjoon, who worked in the same department as him.

Jungkook turned to you before you climbed out of the car, not wanting to say goodbye just yet, but unable to think of a reason to get you to stay. Afterall, the relationship was fake. 

“Hey, thanks for your advice last night.”

“Honestly, I barely remember what it was, but if it helped you, I’m glad.” You smiled at him, and he had to blink a few times to remember what else he wanted to say.

“So, um—I was thinking we could go on, like, a formal date Monday? After work? Monday should be a chill day. I know the comeback is planned for January, so going out sooner than later is best, right? Get it out of the way? That way we won’t forget, and we won’t be too busy with work to try and squeeze it in, and—” 

Jungkook knew he was rambling, feeling nervous despite it being you, someone he had known for several years now. For fucks sake, he’s seen you naked. He felt his cock twitch and internally scolded himself. This was not the time for remembering the way you felt beneath him, the sweet sounds he had pulled from you as he learned your body, shared with you in giving each other your virginities. 

When his cock twitched again, he took a deep breath and tried to focus on your answer.

“You okay, Jeon?” you asked, noticing he had zoned out slightly.

“Yeah... ” he responded, shifting as if uncomfortable.

“Well, I said I would love to go on a date with you. What did you have planned?”

“It’s a surprise. Just dress for the weather.”

You nodded thoughtfully, a small smile gracing your face as you gathered your purse and stepped back out of the doorway of his car to shut it. He rolled the window down, smiling back at you.

“Can’t wait,” you say, standing outside his car on the sidewalk through the rolled down window, waving your fingers at him cutely.

Jungkook’s signature smile spread across his face as he winked at you just before he pulled off, turning his music up loud as he whipped his Benz out of your complex. 

—

Now sitting at your desk, you clicked through the selected shots that Jungkook emailed you of the photo shoot from last week as you reminisced on the weekend. You were supposed to be checking the outfits, detailing the different designers for the credits. But your thoughts kept drifting to Jungkook, and what should have easily been a 15 minute task took 45. 

Finally sending the email, you stood to stretch when a loud knock announced a visitor. Walking to the frosted door of your office, you opened it and revealed a large bouquet of tiger lilies. 

“Delivery for Y/N Y/L/N,” Kim, one of your assistants sing-songed as she walked into the room.

“Where did you get this? And why?” You searched the flowers until you found the card inside.

“I’m not supposed to give any details other than to read the note!” She pranced away, a smug smile on her face for knowing the secret you wanted to know.

Opening the envelope, a small polaroid fell out, fluttering to the ground. You picked it up, noting the image of a small park nearby. At the bottom, in Jungkook’s neat writing was a time. 2:30PM. Glancing at the clock, you see that the time listed is in roughly 15 minutes, so you gathered your purse, plucked a flower from the bouquet and headed out to meet Jungkook.

Walking into the elevator, Namjoon suddenly entered just before the doors shut, trapping you inside with him.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He asked. You studied him, momentarily at a loss for words at his ambush.

“Joonie, I—I’m not avoiding you. I’ve just been busy...”

“Too busy for your best friend? Jennie left me, and now I feel like I’m losing you too.”

Hearing his voice crack as he mentioned his ex hurts you more than you let him know. In all of the panic of the secret sex journal being released and fake dating Jungkook, you had forgotten what Namjoon had been going through.

“I promise, you’re not losing me, Joonie. You’re my best friend. I’m sorry that I haven’t been acting like it. I swear, I have been busy.”

“Yeah, busy going to parties with your new boyfriend. I saw him carrying your wasted ass out of Yoongi’s house.” Namjoon sounded a little irritated as he spoke.

“Listen, it’s complicated.. Can we talk about this later, please? It’s not a conversation for the elevator.”

“Okay, where are you going? I’ll go with you.” The doors opened and you both stepped out, Namjoon following you like a lifeline.

“Joonie, I—Look, I’m going on a date with Jungkook, I’m sorry!” you halted your steps and explained to him as a look of hurt flashed across his face.

“You know what? Forget it. Hit me up when you remember your best friend, if I’m even that.”

Namjoon walked away from you, ignoring you as you called after him. You sighed, giving up as he disappeared around a corner of the lobby, guests and coworkers looking at the exchange with interest.

You rubbed your temples and took a deep breath before braving the cold to walk to Ttukseom Park.

The walk was surprisingly pleasant. Despite the temperature, the sun was warm on your face whenever you were able to evade the shade along the sidewalk. It may have been the very beginnings of winter, but the scenery was anything but the cold melancholy you tended to associate with this time of the year.

The grass was vibrant still, and as you made it to the spot that matched the small photo you still had clutched in your hand, you noticed how the butterfly art installation along the wall of the J-Bug Cultural Complex glittered in the sunlight seeping in. Jungkook was seated on a bench right underneath the art with his trusty camera hanging from his neck, a picnic basket next to him.

“This is beautiful,” you said in awe, taking in the entire view. Jungkook followed your gaze, humming his agreement before picking up his camera. You heard the shutter of the camera several times. You looked over to him glancing at the small screen on the device before adjusting the lens and taking several more. 

“Have you never seen this?” He said as he stood and grabbed the basket. You stood as well and followed him, falling into step beside him as he walked out from the shade and into the grassier area.

You shook your head no. “Don’t really have the time I guess. I’ve always wanted to explore the J-Bug though; Namjoon said the museums all along the Hangang are amazing.”

“I’ve taken photos at several of the murals nearby, they’re some of my favorite locations actually.” He smiled at you, and you can’t help the way your heart squeezes. He nodded his head to an area that had a decent amount of sunlight to combat the winter chill.

“Yea, I remember seeing some of them in your office. You’re really talented Kookie, I remember how passionate you were about photography even back then.” You helped spread the blanket he produced from the basket and once seated you leaned back on your palms, eyes closed. 

Jungkook looked at you, taking in the way the midday sun made you glow, how pretty your lashes looked leaving shadows across your content cheeks. He couldn’t hold back the smile that took over his face upon hearing you use the endearment he hadn’t heard since that night so long ago.

“Ah, yeah, but my photography wasn’t that good then.”

“Stop being so humble, the photos you took were amazing, even then.”

You opened your eyes, catching him staring at you, and you felt yourself grow self-conscious.

“What? Is there something on my face?”

“Oh—uh, no sorry, it was just the sun—you know, lighting and all.” He gestured to his camera.

“Ah, I guess the talented eye never rests. Though I don’t know why you would want pictures of me,” you laughed and Jungkook tapped your knee in reproach.

“You’re a pretty good subject, don’t downplay yourself.”

You nodded, looking in the basket to hide the way your cheeks had warmed at his comment.

“Seriously, Y/N, I used to want to take photos of you all the time back then... you should’ve seen my camera roll. It was embarrassing. Jimin used to tease me all the time.” Jungkook helped you set up his small spread of food and you used the meal as a distraction.

“Ooh, did you prepare all of this?”

“Ah, some of it,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I had some help from Jin hyung.”

“It smells delicious.” You took the proffered chopsticks from his large hand and dug into the bowl of japchae before placing it on your rice to gather for one bite; Jungkook followed suit.

The rest of the lunch date went incredibly well. Jungkook was just like you remembered him to be, except he was more filled out, and a little taller with a jawline that could cut glass. But his humor, his compassion, his deep thoughts that led you to fall for him all those years ago were still painfully there. Spending more time with him one on one did nothing but show you that the feelings you once had for him were still easily accessible. 

As he led you back to the office, his hand swinging yours between your bodies, you couldn’t help but wish this was real. How nice it would be to just pretend that Jungkook really was yours, allow those creeping feelings to spread like spring, blooming across your chest until it was vibrant and unforgettable. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like after; after when you were single again and Jungkook had either gotten back with Somin or moved on to someone else.

“What are you thinking about?” Jungkook squeezed your hand. You hadn’t even noticed that you were not only back at the office, but standing at the door to your locked office.

“Oh, sorry. Honestly, that lunch date was just so nice… It felt good to get out and do something different for a change.”

“Oh, well yea, I remembered you used to like stuff like this, I figured you probably still did.”

You nodded, hope blooming. 

“Take a look at this post, let me know if it’s okay.”

He handed you his phone, and you admired the way he had caught you off guard, a photo that looked like it could be moving, the way your hair frames your face as you looked longingly off into the distance. The caption was simple. “It’s not about where you go or what you have, it’s about who you’re with along the way.” 

“It’s perfect.”

“Okay, post it then. And post a few more pics of me on your page too? I’ve been posting and tagging you...”

If you didn’t know any better, you would think that Jungkook sounded… upset? You nodded as you clicked the post button, and as it loaded, the phone vibrated in your hand. Thinking it was a like or a comment on the image of you, you glanced at it. His phone had locked by this time, and instead of seeing notifications for Instagram, you saw a message notification instead. 

Handing him back his phone, you push down that blooming sensation. It would be foolish to think Jungkook was upset that you hadn’t posted him as much as he had posted you. Clearly he must’ve spent time with Somin after he dropped you off yesterday. 

“You got a message. Umm, I’m gonna finish up here and then head home, you don’t need to wait for me. See you tomorrow?”

You wanted to get away from him desperately. Jungkook looked at you, confused at your sudden shift in mood.

“I thought I was driving you home? Jin said he was staying out late tonight, I figured we could hang out for a few—”

“We’ll see! There’s still so much to do for the album release.” You leaned up and kissed his cheek chastely before unlocking your office door and all but disappeared inside of it.

Jungkook stood there, staring at your closed door for a few more seconds before he felt his phone buzz in his hand. Checking his notifications, he saw a series of texts from Somin. 

Looking around confused, he noticed Somin standing across the office area, a deadly smirk on her face as she waved her phone at Jungkook. All Jungkook could do was sigh. Somin wouldn’t leave him alone long enough to sort out his thoughts, and now she was sending purposefully misleading texts? Jungkook didn’t know how to explain to you that what you saw was untrue.

You clearly believed it.

—

Jungkook gave you two days of space before he decided to track you down. He always hated that Somin would know he was upset (typically because it was her fault) and immediately pounce on him, forcing her company upon him and not allowing him the ability to forgive and move on. He wanted to give you that time, so after two days, Jungkook felt that it had been long enough, and the two of you should reconcile whatever misunderstanding there had been.

You posted a photo with him yesterday, and from the caption you wrote it appeared like you had a fun time with him on Monday despite the way you left him standing at your office door. 

The image you posted on your Instagram with Jungkook was a candid shot; he hadn’t realized you had taken a photo. While it brought about that warm feeling in his chest seeing the photo appear in his feed, it didn’t clearly depict his face. 

Instead, the focus was on your fingers intertwined. Jungkook’s profile could be seen, blurred from lack of focus, but it matched the caption you had chosen so well. “Even if someone shakes this world, please don’t ever let go of this hand you’re holding...”

Motivated, Jungkook made sure to be bright and early at your door ready to drive you and your sister. 

You weren’t expecting to see the flashy Benz outside of your apartment. Yuna was excited to not have to take public transportation, leaving you behind as she all but ran to the passenger rear door.

“Morning JK! We missed you these past few days.”

“Ah, sorry about that, I had to be at the office way earlier; didn’t want to make you guys wake up even earlier than you already do.”

Yuna waves off the apology and you finally followed; feet moving across the pavement until you’ve climbed into the car and buckled your seatbelt.

“Morning princess,” Jungkook says, leaning towards you and pecking your lips. You were caught off guard, not expecting him to be so lovey, but you returned the kiss, a double peck that you started and continued on as the traditional way you greeted each other.

“Morning.”

“Didn’t sleep well?”

“Yea, been a bit out of it these past few days...” You trailed off, not wanting to talk about it in front of Yuna. Catching on, Jungkook turns up the music and shifts into drive, pulling off towards the University for Yuna.

The drive to the office isn’t too long from the school, so once Yuna was out, Jungkook wasted no time in asking you to talk.

“So, can we talk about Somin?”

You huffed out a sigh. It was too early in the morning to deal with the Somin issue, but you nodded, allowing Jungkook to breach the topic.

“I know you saw her message. I want you to know that nothing happened. She sent that text because she saw us. She was doing the same bullshit she always does, part of the reason I don’t think she’s learned anything yet, like you said.”

You nodded, still not sure what to believe. He had no reason to lie to you, it’s not like you were actually in a relationship. He could go back to Somin anytime. 

“I hate that you’re mad at me.”

You turned your body towards him. 

“I—Look, I’m not mad, okay? Not at you. I just hate that Somin gets under my skin so much. That she’s a bitch to you. Neither of us deserve it, especially you.”

Jungkook reached over, encasing your hand in his.

“I’m learning that now. We’ve been together so long, I never noticed at first what she was doing. But I think subconsciously, it was making me resent her. And you really said some shit that had me thinking. And you’re right. I—I’m really glad to have you back in my life, Y/N. Having you in my corner has made all the difference.”

You looked down, eyes staring at the tattooed hand to hide the warmth on your face. 

“After work, come over. Let me buy us dinner and we can hang out.” You felt his smile as he stared at you while pausing at the red light before your office, and you met his gaze.

“Okay.”

“Good, we need to make Jin believe we’re having hot, loud sex, since rule 7 prevents you from experiencing the real thing.”

He let out a shout of pain as you punched his shoulder.

—

Walking to get food was not the smartest idea for 3 reasons. First, because neither of you checked the weather. Second, due to number one, neither of you had an umbrella. So naturally, third, running in the rain while carrying takeout was almost a disaster.

And still, the two of you laughed the entire way, bag clutched in one arm while your fingers were intertwined between your sprinting bodies, one block left to get to Jungkook’s apartment. By the time he’s unlocked the door, you're both sopping wet, rain water dripping onto the floor of the entryway to the apartment. After getting the food situated to stay warm while you guys got cleaned up, Jungkook gave you a towel and led you to his bathroom.

You appreciated that he was such a clean guy, his apartment and subsequently, the bathroom was pristine, and he actually had a trashcan and stocked toilet paper, unlike some men you knew. He planted folded clothes for you to change into on top of the sink counter, and surprised you with a kiss.

“What was that for?” You asked, dazed.

“Practice.” He said with a wink, and he backed away, closing the door as he left you alone. 

—

While Jungkook showered, you heated up the food, your mostly dried hair now up in a messy bun as you danced around his kitchen. His sweats were a little (a lot) too long, so you had rolled them up so you could avoid tripping. 

A knock at the door made you jump, before you moonwalked over to the entryway, now clean of the rain water the two of you had trudged in. Thinking it was Jin, you didn’t check to see who it was and opened the door. You froze as you took in a young man that was not your ‘boyfriend’s’ broad shouldered roommate. Instead, doe-eyes similar to the man currently naked in the shower stared back at you.

“Oh, hey… I thought my brother lived here. Sorry about that!” The man stepped back, checking the number on the apartment again before his eyes landed on your shirt—or rather, his brother’s shirt.

“You’re not Somin...”

“Hi, and no, I’m not,” you laughed, “um, but this is Jungkook’s apartment.”

“Ahh, okay. I’m JungHyun. His older brother.”

“Oh! Come in!” You stepped back so that he could walk past you, and you led him into the living room once he had shed his shoes. 

“Oh, did I interrupt dinner?”

“Oh, no we haven’t even started eating yet. No worries.”

The two of you sat down, and you tucked your feet up under your bottom, turning to face Jungkook’s older brother.

“So, I know who you’re not...”

“Oh, fuck, manners.” The look on your face is sheepish, and you smiled to cover your nerves. “I’m Y/N, Kookie’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, you’re the famous Y/N! Finally got you, did he?”

His words confused you, Jungkook had been with Somin since forever, when had he ever wanted you? Smiling to cover your confusion, you’re saved when Jungkook appears in the hallway, a loud laugh as he barreled over to his brother and all but jumped on the man.

“Hyung! What are you doing here?!”

“Oh, I finished that project at work early, so I’m headed to visit mom and dad. Staying with them through Christmas before the next contract at work starts.”

“Ah, it’s good to see you!”

Jungkook’s enthusiasm is abundant; it’s clear he loves his brother dearly and misses him. He pulled back from a hug and sat comfortably in the space between you and JungHyun, his palm resting lightly on your leg absentmindedly.

“So, I’ve met your new girlfriend. I must say you didn’t do her justice when you described her to me.”

You felt the blush creep across your face, and Jungkook also seemed to turn red, his fingers rubbing at the skin on his neck.

“Yea, seeing her in person is best.” He says awkwardly, and you can’t help but laugh.

“So? Does dad know? Mom is gonna be so excited. She hated Somin.”

“What?” Jungkook says at the same time that you say “Really?”

JungHyun nodded, sitting back into the couch comfortably.

“Yea, no offense, lil bro, but Somin was a bitch. Mom thought she was so fake.”

“Wh-why didn’t you guys ever say anything?”

“Eh, you know, cause you were in love or whatever.”

You get up and go to the kitchen, grabbing bowls and the last of the heated food, hoping to avoid being present for this part of their conversation, but still curious all the same.

“Definitely not.”

“Mmhmm, sure.”

“Seriously. I wasn’t actually in love. Or if I was, it faded. I think for a lot of it I was just… dependent or whatever. I thought it was love, sure. But it wasn’t; I know that now.”

“Ah, so Y/N showed you what love is?”

“She definitely cares more about me and my happiness than Somin ever has.”

You cleared your throat as you walked back into the living room.

“Ready to eat?”

Dinner with Jungkook and JungHyun is, in so many words, fun. They bantered and joked and you spend the time eating and laughing, enjoying your time with the brothers. You didn't even realize how late it had gotten, not until Jin waltzed into the apartment, noting the late hour for you all to be chatting so loud. 

“Shit, Yuna messaged me an hour ago.” 

“Just stay here. We can pick Yuna up in the morning when you go home to change.”

“Are you sure? Your brother’s visiting, I don’t want to be in the way.”

“Y/N, don’t worry, I’ll take the couch. I was going to anyway.” JungHyun smiled at you, and you nodded back. Standing up, you stretched, not realizing how tired you were. Jungkook took the opportunity to tickle your exposed sides, and you squealed, causing the brothers to laugh as you squirmed away from Jungkook, who didn’t let you get far.

“Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

Turning in Jungkook’s arms, you looked over his shoulder at his brother.

“Good night, oppa.”

Jungkook stiffened as JungHyun and Jin laughed, enjoying the way the youngest one reacted to your words.

“Ah, if it doesn’t work out between you two, hit me up.”

“Hyung!” Jungkook glared at his brother, not enjoying the joke.

“What? At least she wouldn’t need to meet our parents twice! She is coming for Christmas, right?”

The two of you looked at each other, a little thrown off by the question. The holidays were coming up, but you hadn’t discussed this far into the relationship. It wasn’t real after all, did you have to go through such lengths to teach Somin a lesson?

“I haven’t told mom and dad yet about her...”

“No worries, I text them ages ago. They’re expecting her for Christmas.”

Jungkook sighed, dropping his forehead to yours, so all you could see was his eyes staring into yours.

“Is this okay? Do you wanna, you know? Meet my parents?” Jungkook’s voice was low as he whispered the question.

“I—Yes.”

The look on his face when you agreed was beautiful, a scrunched-nose smile that is reminiscent of a bunny. You couldn’t help but smile back, lost in the mahogany of his eyes.

“Are you guys over there kissing when I’m waiting for an answer?” JungHyun broke the tension filling the air between you and his brother.

Jungkook smirked before capturing your lips with his own, a breathless kiss that lasted only a couple seconds before he pulled away to smirk at his brother.

“You can tell mom and dad I’ll be bringing her home for Christmas.” With those words, Jungkook whisked you down the hall and tucked you into his bed before climbing in behind you. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulled you closer to him. His hands skimmed your body before he began tickling you again, a squeal leaving your mouth. You retaliated, hands attempting to tickle him before he pinned you to the bed, and the two of you began to wrestle for a bit. 

You were unaware of how sexual the wrestling sounded; his headboard hitting the wall roughly and the two of you grunting and groaning as you fought for dominance, some added squeals and moans when Jungkook decided it was a good idea to bite you in his quest for submission. Finally winded, you gave in, laying back on the mattress in defeat. Jungkook tugged at your sweatpants, removing them swiftly and throwing them onto the floor, his own joining the pile. He then grasped your face, peppering it with kisses.

You were about to ask him what he was doing, when someone knocked. Jungkook called out a ‘come in’ and his brother walked into the bedroom, his sights set on the bathroom.

“Don’t mind me, just gonna wash up before bed. It seemed safe to enter now.”

He disappeared into the bathroom as Jungkook continued to hold you, affectionate even after his brother was out of sight. Even if this relationship was fake, you could pretend in this moment that it was real, that Jungkook pulled you closer, not to fool his brother, but because he wanted to be close to you, that he was falling in love with you. 

For one night, it should be okay to pretend it was something more, right?

—

The next two weeks passed by in a blur. Namjoon had basically confined himself to his studio at work, intent on avoiding you. Seeing you hand in hand with Jungkook seemed to bother him, and because you couldn’t tell him the truth (or wouldn’t), you left him to his own assumptions. He ignored all of your texts attempting to reach out to him, despite him saying he wanted you to let him know when you had time for him. This just made you more frustrated, and you were done trying to chase Namjoon, romantically or otherwise. When he was ready to behave like an adult, you would be willing to talk to him. 

After telling Yuna about how you were asked to go home with Jungkook and meet his family, you received a call from your own parents. Yuna had told them about Jungkook, and you were bombarded with questions until you too agreed to bring Jungkook home.

It took some discussing, but it was finally decided: the 23rd and Christmas Eve would be with your family, and Christmas Day and the 26th would be with Jungkook’s. You were a little worried that the parents would be able to see through your ruse, despite having fooled everybody else at work, but Jungkook assured you that it would be easy enough to trick his parents. 

On the train ride to Daegu, you sat a few rows away from your sister, who had her headphones in as she watched the latest K-Drama she missed due to her busy school schedule. The ‘arriving soon’ message plays throughout the cabins of the KTX, and you figure it’s important to bring up your parents. 

Turning to Jungkook, who was drawing on his iPad, you removed an airpod from your ear, pausing the music. You take a moment and admire his face, the way his jawline was so angular, the sharp planes of his cheekbones, the concentration held in his eyes.

“Like what you see?” Jungkook’s voice is teasing, but you still felt embarrassed at being caught staring at him.

“I just think we should talk about the next 2 days.”

“Y/N, listen. Parents love me. Despite the tattoos and long hair.”

“Cause you’ve met so many parents? You’ve been dating Somin since we were 20.”

“My friends have parents too, you know. Don’t worry. Just be like we always are and it’ll be fine.”

“Your parents may be easy to trick, but mine? They’re a bit more… scrutinizing. Plus, they’ve heard me talk about Namjoon, and probably don’t remember me talking about you...” you trailed off, a slight warmth subtly coloring your cheeks.

“So you used to talk about me?”

“Well, yea, first year, you know? I had a crush on you, so my mom heard all about it. Not about—you know, but I told her I thought we might date.” You buried your nose in your phone to avoid looking at Jungkook. 

“You know, you never told me why you nev—”

Jungkook’s words were cut off by an attendant walking through the aisle, asking everyone to start packing up their belongings as the train would be pulling into the DongDaegu Station momentarily.

“My dad should be here to pick us up—Yuna!” Your sister turned to you, a smile on her face as she waved her phone.

“Dad’s here!”

The drive to the house was short, and you spent most of the time taking turns with Yuna filling in your dad on your life in Seoul. Your mom was busy in the kitchen when you arrived, and she shooed you all upstairs to your rooms. Unsurprisingly, your parents were having you and Yuna share her room while Jungkook would be across the hall in your room. 

Your parents were more conservative, and while you were an adult and perfectly able to do as you pleased in Seoul, while under their roof, they wanted to make sure that you remained as pure as they could keep you. 

Dinner that first night went well. Jungook and your dad bonded over sports, despite Jungkook not playing any team sports, he was still well-versed on the topic and joined your dad in watching a basketball game while you, Yuna, and your mom cleaned up after dinner and then sat in the sewing room. 

Your mom asked you all about Jungkook, which she surprisingly did remember you talking about. It seemed you had her and your father fooled, but while you sat at her embroidery machine, she shared she was confused about the lack of presents you had for each other to open tomorrow night. Saying it was because you still had to wrap them and she would find them under the tree tomorrow was an easy enough excuse, and paired with a very real yawn, you excused yourself to get ready for bed.

Sleeping with Yuna was uncomfortable; she was a wild sleeper. Restlessness won over sleep, so you got out of bed and made your way downstairs to grab a bottle of water from the kitchen. Your parents were already in bed in their first floor room on the other side of the house from the kitchen and the stairs.

When you returned back upstairs, you noticed the light on in your bedroom, so you knocked softly.

“Come in,” Jungkook’s voice was subdued, and you pushed the door open gently.

“Hey,” you said, eyeing Jungkook’s lean, topless form as he sat at the edge of the bed. You never tired of the view when you would sleep over at his place. 

“Can’t sleep?”

“Yea, Yuna isn’t the best person to sleep next to, flops around all night, hogs the sheets.”

You walk into the room, joining him on the bed. He’s swiping through images from the SeoulM8 shoots he’s recently done. You watched his finger move across the iPad leisurely.

“Ahh, sounds like you miss sleeping next to me.”

You scoffed, shoulder bumping into his.

“You snore a bit. And your body temperature runs pretty hot. I wake up sweating half the time.”

“Ah, not the first time I’ve made you sweat, love.”

You raise your eyebrow at his insinuation of your loss of virginity.

“Kidding, babe,” he jokes, locking his iPad and setting it down to charge on the bedside table.

“Can we go into town tomorrow? I want to do some last minute shopping.”

“Sure.” Jungkook yawned and you took that as your cue to leave so he could get some sleep after your journey across the country.

“Where ya going? I thought you couldn't fall asleep with Yuna?”

Jungkook pulled the covers back, making space for you to climb in in front of him.

“Well, yes, but my parents—”

“Sleep downstairs and wholly expect us to pretend to sleep apart but know that you’re going to sneak in here anyways because we’re madly in love.”

You had to cover your mouth to keep from laughing loudly.

“And how do you know that?”

Jungkook smirked, still waiting for you to get into bed.

“You’re dad told me. He also said we need to give him grandchildren, sooner rather than later.”

Stunned silent, Jungkook leaned forward and grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards him. He turned off the light and you climbed in over him, keeping him at the front just in case. 

“C’mere,” he rolled over and pulled you to his chest, snuggling into you as he got comfortable. “We have to look madly in love. No funny business though. I know you think I’m irresistible, but we are in your parents house and must be respectful.”

You elbowed him in the rib, and settled into the comforting darkness of your childhood bedroom with Jungkook’s arm wound around your waist, holding you close. 

——

Christmas Eve, in your family, is the night that presents are opened. As a child, this tradition was done in order to make room under the tree for Santa’s presents. As adults, your parents keep the tradition alive, instead putting stockings with 1 or 2 of the more expensive gifts for you to have on Christmas morning. 

After shopping in town and spending time wrapping, you had finally placed a few gifts for Jungkook under the tree that Yuna was now passing out. You were surprised to see a couple gifts for you from Jungkook in the small pile you amassed, and when you caught his eye, he winked at you. 

Yuna opened her gifts first, then you and Jungkook, where you saw that he gave you a matching jewelry set: necklace and earrings in a soft rose gold, a small cherry blossom bloom dangling from the small hoop of the earrings and from a small hoop on the necklace. It reminded you of your date at the park. The two of you sat under the winter sakura tree that day, the only blossoms that bloom twice a year, where you told him how much you loved cherry blossoms in passing. 

“It’s beautiful, Jungkook.” You almost can’t believe it, but he just smiles softly at your gratitude and helps put the necklace on you. Your parents looked happy, enjoying seeing their daughter so happy. Jungkook was excited to see what you had gotten him; a special lens for his camera that he had talked on and on about purchasing soon. He was giddy, running upstairs to grab his camera, testing out the new lens on pictures of you and your family.

Once again, you found yourself in your old room, curled up with Jungkook, but this time you were unable to sleep. Rolling over, you faced Jungkook, who cracked one eye and peeked at you.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he asked, voice laced with sleep. You noticed how easily the endearment rolled off his tongue even with no one around to convince.

“I—the gift you got me,” your fingers fidgeted with the small cherry blossom on the necklace. “I hope it didn’t cost too much. You can return it once we break up if you need to.”

“Y/N, that gift is for you. For being such a great… friend. Helping me do this. I really think it’s working.”

“You deserve to be happy Jungkook. I’m glad you were able to get space long enough to work out how you feel, and that you’re working your way to being happier.”

“Yea, I think I’ve been much happier lately...”

You watched his tongue run along his lips, and you couldn’t help but train your eyes on the movement. He caught your eyes, his hands gripped you a bit tighter as the tension in the dark room grew.

“...much happier...”

You weren’t sure who moved first, you or Jungkook, but at that point, it didn’t really matter. The way your lips sought his, the way his hands pulled you closer, the two of you were acting on instinct. This kiss wasn’t for practice or for show, who was to know what happened here, in this room tonight, but the two of you?

You let out a moan as he dipped his head lower, tracing kisses from your neck to what was exposed of your collarbone. His touch is impatient, tugging and kneading, unable to stay still on your body. His scent alone, a musky vanilla scent, engulfed your senses and you wanted… more.

You threw your leg over his body, turning the two of you until you’re straddled on top of him, able to press your core down onto his very firm cock. His boxers and your sleep shorts are the only things holding it back from assaulting you, and you’re annoyed that they’re in the way. Reaching down, you slide your hand roughly into the waistline of the boxers, fingers gripping him.

Jungkook groaned into your neck, the feel of your hand as you palm him building the craving he had for you. He wanted you. Not just physically. But you had those stupid rules, and he couldn’t just break them. He respected you more than that, and falling in love with you? Well that wasn’t part of the plan.

Jungkook slows the way he’s kissing you, slows the way he was thrusting into your hand and pushes you gently off of him and back to your side of the bed. You’re both panting, barely able to catch your breath as he pulled your back to his chest and held you close.

“We’ve got a long trip tomorrow morning to Busan, babe. Let’s get some sleep.”

“Oh… okay?” You were so confused. You had never been turned down before, especially not when you were so far into the act, practically ready to pull your panties to the side and ease him into you. You were throbbing, body aching with want, and you knew he was too; could feel the hardness as it nestled in the dip between your cheeks.

You felt him kiss your head, followed by a soft double peck to your neck, and not 10 minutes later his breathing slowed as he drifted off to sleep. 

You, on the other hand, laid awake, thoughts running wild.

——

Christmas morning you had an early breakfast with your family before opening stockings. Your parents had only a couple of weeks to prepare for Jungkook, but they had prepared a stocking for him as well; your mom embroidering his name onto it and stuffing it full to the brim. 

You were surprised at the gifts; a couple boxes of polaroid film, a bag of banana kick chips, individually packaged egg snacks, and colorful candy canes. Yours were similar as well, a small collection of sewing items for designing, and your favorite snacks. Your mom ruffled Jungkook’s sleepy-head hair as he offered his thanks to your parents, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart swoon at the sight. You realized something heartbreaking at that moment: breaking up with Jungkook once this was over would hurt more than just you. 

Heading to Jungkook’s parents house was a different experience after the previous night. Yuna had obviously stayed with your parents, and would be catching the train back the same day you left Busan. 

This was the first time the two of you had been alone since the rejection the night before, and you were doing your best to ignore the hurt feeling that would bloom every time you caught yourself dwelling on it. You focused on your phone instead, posting a few photos on Instagram so that you were sticking to your end of the deal. Somin would see these posts some way or another, and it would hopefully do what it was intended to.

Jungkook didn’t seem to think twice about the rejection, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and treating you like you were really together, a true couple going to meet his parents for the first time. 

“Nervous?”

“A little. I’ll be meeting your parents, and we’re not really together,” you looked down at your hands, missing the way Jungkook’s face fell for a few seconds before working it’s way back to a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

“I think we’re together enough where it counts. No one watching us would doubt it,” he intertwined your fingers and gave it an encouraging squeeze, “sometimes even I forget you’re not my real girlfriend.” He laughed, and the sound leaves an ache in your chest.

“Same, haha...” You looked out the window of the KTX, ready to breathe the fresh air of the nearby sea. Jungkook released your hand and you both went back to your tasks, Jungkook reading emails and you sketching designs for work.

Jungkook’s parents treated you much like yours had treated Jungkook. Like you were the greatest thing to happen to their child.

“Y/N, you’re so pretty! Oh, thank heavens, we have a chance at cute grandchildren now.” Jungkook’s mom bowed her head in thanks to a higher power, and you couldn’t help feeling a little bad that you weren’t actually dating Jungkook. You would have liked to deserve the praise she was giving you.

“He looks so much happier, happier than we’ve seen him in a long time.” She smiled at his father and their eyes, so similar to their two sons, crinkled in the corners. JungHyun greeted you with a hug, and you reciprocated it.

“Hi, Oppa,” you teased, and Jungkook glared at you. 

“Yah! That’s Jeon JungHyun to you,” he leaned closer to your ear in a mock whisper, “only I get called Oppa.”

JungHyun cringed back in mock disgust.

“I do not need to know about your ‘Oppa kink’ in the bedroom.” He shivered as he walked back to the living room, where he put away his laptop to make space for gifts.

Their dad, who you were very glad had not heard his eldest son’s comment, gestured to you to leave your suitcases in the entryway and come sit down.

“Kookie, pass out the gifts please. Your mom has been waiting all morning in excitement for you two to get here. We can have lunch after you guys get situated.”

Jungkook, ever the dutiful youngest son, began to distribute gifts amongst you all, while you handed your own gifts that you had gotten for his family out to them. 

“You didn’t have to get them anything,” Jungkook whispered as he dropped a gift off for you from his own parents.

You gave him a pointed look, gesturing subtly to the gift.

“I did.”

He shook his head with a smile and continued until the space under the tree was empty.

“So, we just open them all at the same time! Save your thanks for the end, ready?” His dad looked at you, and you nodded.

“Let’s get it!” Jungkook shouted, and everyone laughed at his phrase as you began to open your gifts. You didn’t have many, one from his parents and JungHyun, and 2 from Jungkook. His family had given you a Pantone Color Swatch book that was easy to carry around, to help while on set working. It was very thoughtful, and you knew it could not have been cheap. You bowed deeply, on your knees and forehead to their floor as a show of your gratitude and respect.

They motioned for you to sit back up, waving off your thanks as if it was no big deal for them to get this gift for you. You turned to Jungkook’s gift, eyes already threatening tears at their sincere treatment of you, and once opened, you did cry.

Nestled inside a satin lined box was a beautiful set of Dwikkoji, traditional hair pins, that came with a small card identifying them as from the Joseon era.

“Jungkook!” you gasped, sure that they couldn’t be real.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t have to pay for them. But they would look much better displayed in your office as our head fashionista then collecting dust in storage.”

You couldn’t hold back your feelings any longer. Acting on instinct, you tugged him towards you, wrapping your arms under his own and around his frame as you let your tears fall.

“They’re beautiful, Kookie.” 

Jungkook reciprocated your embrace, his hand smoothing down your hair as his parents smiled at the scene in front of them.

“Ah, young love, remember when that was us?”

—

Unlike your parents, who wanted to pretend that the two of you were a modest young couple, Jungkook’s parents assumed that the two of you would room together. His dad had clapped him on his shoulder and congratulated him on bringing home such a fine woman. Apparently in the two weeks that JungHyun had been home, he had raved about you to his parents, showing pictures from your social media accounts of the two of you together, as well as your fashion talent. Jungkook too had talked on the phone to his parents, you came to find out, which was why his parents were so enthralled by you, despite only dating Jungkook for a short time.

Lunch was fun. Spending time with the Jeons was full of laughter. His family was like him, generous and kind hearted, and you enjoyed spending time with his mom in the kitchen making cookies for dessert.

That night you went out for a drive to look at Christmas lights, before you all stopped off at the town center where they had outdoor ice skating set up. Jungkook had his camera with the new personalized strap you made him (yay fashion classes!) around his neck, taking photos of you and his family as you glided across the frozen water. You spent an hour there before heading home to warm up with hot cocoa and Christmas movies. You found out that this was their tradition every year, and it made you happy to know they wanted to share it with you. Even if it was only for this one Christmas.

Having showered first, you traveled down the hall to get water from the kitchen while you waited for Jungkook to finish his. His family had a one level house; His parents’ room was located on one side of the living room and kitchen, while Jungkook and his brother’s room was on the other side. 

You heard his parents talking at the table and you slowed down, resting the back of your head on the wall as you heard them say your name.

“Oh, honey, Y/N is so darling! I haven’t seen him this happy in years.”

“He looks so in love with her.”

“Well, remember, he used to have the biggest crush on her.”

“But that was years ago. They were what, 20? And somehow he chose Somin?”

“Sometimes, people aren't ready. Now, they’re older. Better chances of them working out. Oh, honey, I hope they work out. She would be such a cute daughter in law.”

“I know, but don’t pressure them. Let them realize how in love with each other they are on their own.”

“Do you think she loves him too?”

“I don’t have a single doubt in my mind. I saw the way they were together.They’re in love, whether they realize it or not.”

“Ahh, so we could have grandchildren soon? JungHyun seems like he’s never going to settle down... ”

“Aish, grandchildren? I’m too young to be a grandpa!”

Instead of interrupting them, you headed back to his room, mind racing with their words. Jungkook had a crush on you? They thought the two of you were in love? Daughter in law? Jungkook chose that moment to come into the room, towel wrapped low around his waist as he checked his phone and you couldn’t look away.

“You’re starting to drool there, babe.”

You swallowed and looked away, grabbing your hair and running your fingers through it to put it into a bun on your head.

“I just uh—I wanted to talk to you about the contract.”

Jungkook, who was facing his dresser where his suitcase was opened up, froze. His eyes sought yours in the mirror, his reflection giving away nothing.

“Oh? What, uh, what about it?”

“Well, our parents seem to like us together, I mean, they’re talking about grandkids, and well, I would hate to break up so soon after having met them. I know this was only supposed to go on until you figured out what to do about Somin, but if it’s alright with you,” you look away, twisting your fingers in nervousness, “I would like for us to continue to date.”

Jungkook’s mind was racing. He understood what you meant. Your parents seemed to love him, discussing future visits for the holidays and his family had been no different. And thinking about ending the contract? Well, he had already been thinking about doing that. So he could date you, for real. Somin texted him while he was in the shower, upset about missing Christmas with his family. Jungkook thought that it would bother him, his first holiday without her, but he realized he couldn’t care less. 

Somin treated him like a prize to be toted around and shown off. He was good for bragging; his face, body, high paying job, it all granted her status. She had no ambition to grow within the company, still a one act manager after graduating as an interning manager’s assistant. But you? God, you were different. You had ambition, you didn’t care about what Jungkook could provide for you, and you listened to him, to his dreams. You were thoughtful, appreciative, and everything you had done was to help him be happy. Even fake dating, while it benefitted you as well, you had gone above and beyond for him.

You stood up, walking closer to him where he was lost in his thoughts.

“Jungkook?” you intoned, your fingers softly settling on the back of his shoulder, waiting for his response.

“I think, yeah. I think that would be a good idea. My parents and brother love you.”

Your heart soared. He wanted to continue this. Not go back to Somin right away. He barely brought her up this whole trip. You felt giddy, hopeful that maybe one day, this could be something more.

“So then, it’s settled.”

Jungkook turned around, catching your hand before you could drop it back to your side.

“I think we should reexamine that contract, but tonight, I’d really like to say fuck it.”

Jungkook stepped into your space, and in a heart’s beat, he had ensnared your lips, his arms pulling you closer to him. Your own arms snaked up his body, hands pulling his head closer to you, your fingers playing with the wet strands at his nape. His kisses were fervent, lips almost rough as he pressed them to yours before he was swiping his tongue across the opening of your mouth, seeking entrance. 

You groaned as you arched your back, seeking to deepen the kiss as you pressed higher on your tiptoes, wanting more of him. His palm skimmed your back down to your butt, where he applied pressure and lifted you with brute strength. You pulled away with a gasp, not expecting to be lifted up. He just looked at you with pupils blown, one eyebrow raised suggestively as he carried you to his bed.

“I think we should practice making ‘grandchildren’ for them.”

He set you down, long enough to grip the hem of your shirt before he pulled it over your head. His eyes moved to your chest, and he closed his eyes as he sighed in defeat.

“You’ve been keeping this from me?”

“You’ve seen me naked before,” you remind him, but he just shook his head.

“Years ago, Y/N, and let me tell you, my memory didn’t do you justice. I think I need a reminder.”

You throw him a suggestive look, knowing that you’ve both had some experience with sex since your shared first time all those years ago. This time, there was no fumbling, no nervous laughter, or apologizing. This time, Jungkook was in command of his body, and of yours too. He rid you of your shorts, leaving you naked on his sheets as he dropped his towel. 

You marveled at how his body had changed: the muscle gained and the chiseled jaw you loved to admire. Jungkook bit his lip and did the same to you, eyes roving along your curves, the way you weren’t shying away from his touch as his fingers trailed up your thigh.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond, as Jungkook kissed you again, this time with less fervor, his body crawling above yours as he joined you on the bed. His hands touched you everywhere, fondling your breasts and your ass as he kissed down your neck, nipping the skin and leaving marks along your neck. You feel the ache as your wetness pools between your legs, and Jungkook’s growing member sits heavy where it’s pressed against your thigh. 

“Jungkook, please—”

He nips a bit harder, the sound of you begging for him made him infinitely larger. He wanted to be in you, but he didn’t want to rush it, wanted to savor you for as long as he had you under him. Kissing down your body, his tongue leaves a cool, wet trail and you writhe, ticklish to his tongues path to your core. 

Parting your legs wider, he smirked at you from where he's sat on his knees, your thighs on either side of his gloriously naked body. Leaning forward, he never breaks eye contact as you watch his lips meet your mound. Gentle kisses pressed to your lips, and then his tongue is parting them, flicking your clit in greeting. Your head is thrown back, you know you should be quieter, but the onslaught of his lips and tongue as they pleasure your sweet spot has you reduced to base instincts only. And right now, they want Jungkook to know that he had better not stop.

You rolled your hips, seeking more, and he gives in, thick fingers immersing themselves inside of you. You clench, walls shocked at the intrusion but welcoming it all the same. He felt so good, and you tell him as much, so he continued to finger fuck you as he lapped up your release, carrying you through your orgasm.

He was so hard, cock throbbing as he kissed back up your body, and after spitting into your hand, you reached down to stroke along his shaft, palm twisting and gliding as he nuzzled his face back into your neck, quiet little moans rolling out of his mouth with each stroke. You made him feel so good, your body warm and soft as your smaller hand stroked his larger ego, in more ways than one.

Without preamble, you positioned him at your opening and lifted your hips, allowing him to feel how warm your walls were, waiting for him. He pushed up on his palms on either side of your head and the look he gave you was indecipherable before your own eyes shut; he engulfed his cock in the swollen velvet that was your cunt, buried to the hilt.

He had tried his best to prepare you, but every glorious inch stretching you out was a breath you needed to take in order to grow accustomed to his size. You counted nine breaths, then opened your eyes, taking in the trembling of his arms as he held himself back from pounding into you.

“Move, Kook, please,” you whine, and he wasted no time following your orders.

His hips grinded into you as he rolled them, angling himself to take you as deep as humanly possible. His pace started off fast, but soon he was slowing down, head dropped into the crook of your neck as your nails dragged red marks down his back. You rocked your hips in time to his thrusts, using your grip on his back as leverage to meet him halfway. 

“You feel so good, so wet for me,” he murmured with each thrust, and you bit his shoulder, afraid if you didn’t gag yourself, you would say the wrong thing.

Everything about you enveloped him, your scent, your arms and thighs that were holding him close; he could barely think straight as he tried to get you to cum again before he got himself off. But you felt so good, tight clenches as your arousal gushed and coated his cock, he didn’t know how much longer he could last. Then you bit his shoulder, and he sped up his stroke, hips rolled in fast succession as your body jostled underneath him.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m so close baby,” you mewl into his ear, and he lifted his head up out of your neck, resting his forehead on yours. 

“I want to watch you, don’t close your eyes,” he pleads and you try your best to keep them open, not closing them for long as the coil builds in your lower abdomen. He adjusted your bodies, lifted your legs up slightly which allowed him a deeper angle that hits your g-spot. Your mouth hangs open, a fucked out expression on your face and Jungkook loses it.

The first spurt of his hot cum sends you over the edge, and you're spiraling down, pussy contracting around his cock, milking him for every drop. You maintain eye contact, watching each other for a few seconds before you can’t help but close them, the pleasure too great.

Jungkook pressed his lips to yours as you both cum, using them to cage in the words he wanted to say, wanted to shout from the rooftops, but wasn’t yet sure you felt the same way.

——

Waking up in Jungkook’s arms, you felt sore. So sore, but also satisfied. You hadn’t slept this well in ages, and if Jungkook’s deep slumber and dead weight arm draped over your waist was anything to go by, he hadn’t either. You moved his arm slowly, headed for the shower, and let out a small gasp as JungHyun also exited his bedroom at the same time.

“Well, don’t you look... rested,” he trailed off, a look of knowing on his face.

Your face burned in embarrassment.

“Don’t worry, as soon as I heard little brother start to get a little… feral, I turned up my TV while I gamed. Parents didn’t hear a peep.”

“Thank you, oppa.” You bowed, gratitude seeping out of each of your pores.

“Now, those marks on the other hand,” he gestured to your neck, “might I suggest an ice pack for 20 minutes and then some really good makeup?”

You hurried into the bathroom as he laughed his way towards the kitchen. A minute later he knocked, passing you a small ice-pack through the cracked door.

“20 minutes,” he reminded you with a wink, and went back into his room with his cereal.

—

Saying goodbye to Jungkook’s parents after a late breakfast was tough. His mom cried, saying her baby son did not visit enough and that she would miss him. She also said she would miss you greatly, and that you better come back with him soon to visit.

It was tough to promise her that you would, knowing that there was a very real chance that you wouldn’t. This was fake after all. You had just agreed to extend the contract briefly, to get through the holidays and while Jungkook said ‘fuck it’ last night, with the rising of the sun came the clarity of the situation. 

Jungkook behaved much the same, holding your hand and showering you with PDA, and while you reciprocated, you couldn’t help but feel like the magic of Christmas was over. Heading back to Seoul meant back to reality. You weren’t sure you were ready for that. For the first time in your life, you felt like you could see a future with someone, with him, despite the relationship being fake thus far. To be honest, it hadn’t felt fake since the night of the party. 

The entire trip, all 3 and a half hours of it, you ruminated on last night and what it meant. You hated to admit that you had fallen for Jungkook, and had given up rule number 7 on a whim. For all you knew, he would be going back to Somin at the end of this. 

In his own little world, Jungkook too couldn’t stop thinking about you and what last night meant. He wished he had said to forget the contract all together, instead of just for the night. He wanted to see if you felt the same way, but he wanted to be sure that his Somin chapter was done. He needed to see her and make sure he was over her, and not just using you as a rebound. You didn’t deserve that.

Jungkook’s body language had you on edge, as his foot tapped incessantly as the train got closer and closer to Seoul. You placed your hand on his knee, a reassuring move for both of you. 

“Jungkook, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just—Somin messaged me.” He had been thinking about it the whole trip back to Seoul, about how her messages didn’t affect him anymore. Before, he could barely go a few minutes before responding. Now, almost 18 hours had passed and he wasn’t bothered.

“When?” Your voice came out sharper than intended, and Jungkook flinched back from you.

“Uh, last night, right after I got out of the shower.”

Your brain began to connect dots that you didn’t want it to.

“Oh,” you respond, trying to keep your voice light. Jungkook was confused at your reaction; usually you were jumping to keep him and Somin apart. This response felt like you didn’t care, like if he met up with Somin, it wouldn’t impact you at all.

“She just… I think that you’re right. The plan is working and I’ve been happier than I’ve been in a long time. But I guess there’s that part of me that needs to talk with her, express how I feel. I want to be sure.” Before I confess my feelings to you, he thought.

“Right. Well, that was the goal, getting you to figure out what you want.” You turned your head away from him and deeper into the neck pillow, trying to get this conversation done and over with before he said something that really broke your heart.

“I know. I guess I’ll meet up with her when we get back? The sooner the better I guess.”

“True, the faster you meet with her, figure it all out, the faster we can move towards breaking up.”

Jungkook freezes, but you don’t notice, too focused on not looking at him.

“At breaking up?”

“Yea, that was the plan right? We date for a couple more weeks, then break up, so you can get back with Somin, if she’s changed, you know?”

“You—”

“Hey Jungkook? I’m really tired, can we talk about this later?”

Jungkook stared at your form, taking in how closed off you were from him. He didn’t understand what changed. He sat back, finally replying to Somin’s text, agreeing to meet at a cafe by his apartment later that evening.

—

Jungkook saw you home, worried the entire ride to your place about what was happening between the two of you. He thought everything had been going well, and after last night, he didn’t know how he could have possibly fucked up. He hoped you were just PMS-ing, like Somin used to always blame moods like this on. 

You let him carry your suitcase upstairs to your apartment and when he leaned in for a kiss, you kissed him back, but he felt it was almost out of obligation; your sister was sitting on the couch watching the two of you. Jungkook paused at your door, but you had turned away from him, so ready to be alone. So he let you close the door in his face, let you have time to yourself.

Jungkook got to the cafe, eyes searching for the long black hair of his ex. When he approached her she smiled at him. Jungkook saw the way her face lit up, the way the smile graced her pretty face, and felt nothing for it. Sitting down, a cafe worker took their drink order and left them alone.

“So, you said you wanted to talk?” Jungkook asked, fidgeting with his fingers drumming on his knee.

“Kookie, I miss you.” Somin leaned toward him, chest pushed out in her off the shoulder zebra print dress. Her black heel nudged against Jungkook’s leg, rubbing it suggestively.

Jungkook moved his leg out of reach and sighed.

“Somin—”

“Minnie.” She pouted, red painted bottom lip jutting out after she cut him off to correct her name.

“Somin. I—I’m sorry.” Jungkook felt awkward. Here he was, sitting in front of his ex, who was undoubtedly a gorgeous woman. But after all they had been through—all she put him through—and all the healing you had done to his heart, he realized he had fallen out of love with her a long time ago. “I know you had hopes of us getting back together.”

“Well, of course we’re getting back together Kookie. We’re made for each other. Since we were 20! I know this thing with Y/N is just revenge. You wanted to make me mad, teach me a lesson,” she said as she reached out and grabbed Jungkook’s hand in hers, “and I have learned it. Christmas without you was so sad. I had no one to go out to all the holiday parties with.”

Jungkook shifted in the metal chair. “Look, Somin—”

“Why do you keep calling me that?” she interrupted again, and Jungkook let out a loud sigh as he tried to maintain his cool.

“Because, I’m trying to tell you that I—”

“Jungkook! Somin!”

The loud yell of the barista reading out orders cut Jungkook off for the third time, and he groaned, running his tattooed hand over his face. With a huff, he stood up, walking through the crowded cafe to get the drinks so he could just tell Somin the truth; he may have initially wanted to teach her a lesson, but he ended up being the person who learned something from it. He was in love with you; wanted to spend more holidays like the one that just passed, with you. He truly didn’t feel anything for Somin anymore, other than friendship.

While Jungkook was up, Somin noticed his bag was open, a fancy camera strap hanging out of it. It was embroidered; the phrase ‘you shine brighter than anyone’ apparent once she pulled it free from his oversized black backpack. Somin threw a glance over her shoulder at Jungkook, seeing him still busy, so she stuffed the strap into her purse. Grabbing her phone, she sent a text to Taehyung.

Jungkook set down the drinks before sitting down himself and commanding the attention of his ex. 

“Look, Somin, I just—I’m sorry.” Jungkook looked down at his hands before making eye contact with her. “I don’t see us getting back together. I—” he paused, taking a deep breath before he spoke his truth, “I’m in love with her, Minie. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but I want to be happy. I want you to be happy with someone who feels about you, how I feel about her.”

Somin stared at Jungkook before she laughed. He was unsure of the emotions she was actually feeling; perplexed by her reaction to what he just told her. He didn't want to be with her anymore, and he wasn’t looking for her to beg, but he expected a little more... sadness? Push back? Once she was done laughing, she leveled her gaze at him.

“You, you’ve barely been seeing her Jungkook. How can you love her?”

Jungkook took a sip of his drink, gathering his thoughts before he answered her. The judgement that laced her tone made him angry, but he didn’t want to give Somin the upper hand. He wanted to be an adult about the situation. In retrospect, he hadn’t been honest with Somin when she first confessed to him, and you deserved for him to share that honesty now, even if it was coming 5 years later.

“I think—I think a part of me has always loved her. Since that first year. Don’t get me wrong, I think I loved you too and at some point we just… I think we just broke up and then made up too many times because it was easy… familiar. I love you Minie, and you were a huge part of my life. I’m just not IN love with you.” Jungkook leaned forward towards Somin, placing his hand over here, hoping that she would see and feel his sincerity and his benevolence. 

“Wow, I—You’re serious?” Somin’s voice was quiet as she questioned him. “I guess I didn’t think I’d be starting the new year without you.”

Jungkook watched as she slid her hand out from under his and placed it in her lap.

“Please, be happy for me Minie, and when you’re ready, I’ll be happy for you too.”

The loud chime from Somin’s phone went off. Jungkook watched as she looked at her screen, eyes growing wide.

“Shit, an emergency with Tae.” Somin looked up at Jungkook, her face soft and apologetic.

“Koo—I mean Jungkook, I was just surprised is all. I—I am happy for you and Y/N. Or, I guess it’s more like, I will be. I’m sorry, I have to run, but thank you for meeting with me.”

Somin gave him one last smile, as if showing she was throwing the towel in, before she stood up and left the cafe in a hurry. Jungkook watched her as she dashed off, disappearing down the sidewalk towards the nearest bus stop. He thought the meeting had gone well, or at least better than expected. Maybe Somin has grown up, he thought to himself, unaware of the way she made off cunningly with his gifted camera strap, using a text that confirmed the time for the next morning’s meeting with Taehyung as an excuse to escape.

——

After closing the door in Jungkook’s face, you retreated to your room, claiming that a headache was creeping in from the long train ride. Your sister nodded, engrossed in her latest K Drama. You rolled your suitcase into your room, stripped your travel clothes from your weary body, and entered your shower. 

Free to do as you pleased, with the water to cover the sound, you wept. How foolish you felt, letting Jungkook close to you once again, only to see him rush off to Somin. It was almost like what happened 5 years ago, when you had gone to his dorm room and found her confessing. Just like then, Somin was winning Jungkook; once again he had slipped through your grasp.

That night you texted Jungkook to tell him you would be going to the office early and that he needn’t pick you up.

Jungkook was relieved upon seeing your text. He had spent the better half of the evening and the morning tearing apart his apartment. He had called his parents, his brother, and overturned his luggage onto the floor. He could not find the camera strap you made him. 

He knew that he shouldn’t have taken it off the camera, but he spilled a bit of leftovers from his mom on it while on the train and removed it to make it easier to clean once he got home. 

Unfortunately, it was nowhere to be found. 

Jungkook was frantic; he knew that you made it for him that night you sat in the sewing room with your mom and sister while he was with your dad. Your mom had an embroidery machine, and so you snuck in there under the premise of bonding time and worked on it. He loved the phrase you chose for him; it reminded him of your love letter to him, the way you had written about him making you feel as beautiful as a night sky. “you looked at me as if the galaxies were reflected in my eyes...”

Dumping out his black backpack for the umpteenth time, Jungkook sifted through notebooks, film, wrappers from snacks, a small hygiene bag, and loose photos. He doesn’t know why he continued looking through the same places. It’s not there. Glancing at the clock, he realized he would be late to the Monday morning meeting. Giving up and putting everything he needed back into his bookbag, he stepped over the mess and headed out to his car.

Walking into the conference room, everyone looked tired from their holidays, but with the New Year around the corner, it was important for everyone to attend before January. SeoulM8’s comeback was fast approaching, and making sure everything was moving smoothly was imperative to whether the next holiday was spent relaxing or spent stressed out. 

Stirring your coffee, you walked through the propped open door and maneuvered your way over to where your assistants sat. Kim, the same one who brought you the tiger lillies several weeks ago, smiled at you as she slid you the stapled packet she printed out from the email.

“I think we’ve done all our parts, the photos Jeon emailed over have been approved by the boss, and we double-checked the designers they are wearing. I think all that’s left is to get final approval on the outfits for their comeback shows and interviews during comeback week.” 

You nodded, sipping the still hot coffee as Kim spoke quietly about the role you played for SeoulM8, eyes on the printed email. It didn’t help the way you could feel the mocha eyes of a certain ‘missing in action’ best friend burning into the side of your face; or the way the empty seat across from you saved for a certain ‘boyfriend’ of yours had your anxiety on edge.

With 5 minutes left until the meeting commenced, you had done a pretty good job at tuning out all of the mindless chatter around you, that is until Somin’s nasally voice interrupted your response to Kim.

“Oh, this? It’s just a little gift for JK.”

“But you broke up? He’s with Y/N now...” Hobi said, cutting off a reply from one of the assistants sitting near Somin.

“But we dated for 5 years, he’s still important to me. I think he’ll love it.” She turned her back to Hobi, who tried to make eye contact with you. You looked down at your coffee instead.

When Jimin and Taehyung walked into the room, everyone quieted down and took their seats if they weren’t already, assuming Bang PD, the head boss, would be quickly approaching behind them. Before the glass door could swing fully shut, Jungkook sprinted into the room, out of breath.

“Oh Jungkook, here!” Somin stood up, making a big show out of handing him the small gift bag that had been on the table in front of her. 

“Oh? Uh, thanks Minie.” Jungkook said, looking for the head boss. Bang PD was still missing from the room, so he grasped the colorful tissue paper from the bag and removed it in one swift pull. As the paper fluttered to the table, Jungkook’s eyes lit up as he took in the present.

“Oh my God, thank you!” Jungkook wrapped his arms around Somin in a huge hug, surprising everyone in the room watching, including you. Despite all of your negative thoughts about you and Jungkook’s future, seeing him react that way was unexpected and you felt your heart ache seeing him hold her in an embrace.

Sitting down, Jungkook turns to talk to Somin when you notice Bang PD walking down the long hallway towards the closed glass doors. 

You turned to the front of the room where SeoulM8 was seated next to the only empty chair in the room, fully intending to pay attention, but Jungkook’s movements directly across from you pulled your attention away. When you see the embroidered strap that YOU had given to him for Christmas a mere 2 days ago slide free from the bag, you see red. Before Bang PD can enter the room, you’ve already stood up. 

Both Namjoon and Jungkook look at you, followed by everyone else’s gaze; it’s too late to hide the tears that fall down your face. 

“Y/N, I can explain—” Jungkook said as you make your way around the table toward the door. He grabbed your wrist to stop you, but you pulled it from his grasp.

“Save it, Jeon. It’s over.”

You leave the meeting, walking brusquely past your boss with your head down. You type out a quick text to him as you take the elevator down, apologizing for leaving and saying that an emergency came up. Bang PD responds within a few moments.

Back in the conference room, Jungkook attempted to call you, but you sent him to voicemail twice. Giving up, he grabbed his bag, fully planning to follow you, when he saw Namjoon stand before he could. Throwing a dirty look at Jungkook, Namjoon shook his head at him before quickly following you out the door. 

You haven’t gone far, making it only to your office where you gathered up the rest of your belongings when Namjoon burst in.

“Y/N,” he sounded a little out of breath, probably from running to the elevator and then to your office, you assumed, “I—”

“Save it, Joon. You didn’t want to talk to me these past few weeks, so I don’t know why you’re here now.”

“Because I realized I love you.”

You stopped packing up your laptop, eyes slowly moving to meet his.

“What did you say?”

“I said I love you. I didn’t realize it until you started dating Jungkook, but I do.”

You shook your head back and forth, unable to hear or deal with his feelings right now.

“No, Namjoon, you don’t. You just miss Jennie.”

“Y/N, listen, I should’ve realized it was you. It’s always been you. You can’t honestly tell me that you’re in love with Jungkook?” Namjoon said this last part with contempt.

Tears fell once again, and you dropped your hands uselessly to your side.

“I do, Namjoon. I honestly love him.”

“Well, I hate to say I told you so, but-”

“Then don’t,” you voiced, cutting him off with an edge to your voice.

“You and Jungkook? Please. Anyone can see how different you are. You and me, though? We’re better for each other.”

“How different we are? Why? Am I too out of his league? Not pretty enough?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, and you know it. You guys just aren’t compatible—”

“And how the fuck would you even know?! You saw us together at what? One party? And then at work? What do you even know about our relationship, Joon?! You’ve been angry at me ever since you found out!”

“Because you and him together isn’t right! It’s supposed to be you and me!”

“Oh please, Namjoon. If Jennie hadn’t taken that Japan job and dumped you, you wouldn’t even be here right now. I wouldn’t have even crossed your mind. This is a pointless conversation.”

You walked towards the door, bag over your shoulder and laptop case in hand. Namjoon blocked the doorway, and behind him you could see nosey coworkers watching the interaction. 

“Move, Namjoon.”

“Not until you talk to me.”

“No,” you go to shoulder past him, and you were able to back him up into the common area outside of your office. He grabbed at your shoulders, holding you still. 

“Namjoon, let go of me!” At this moment you hated that you had dressed up for this meeting; a tight a-line pencil skirt and heels that don’t allow you the movement that you needed.

Before you can shimmy from his clutches, he’s leaning forward, his lips meeting yours in a kiss. In shock, you don’t move at first, not until your free hand shoved his shoulder and pushed him a step back.

“I can’t believe you.” 

The look you gave him could burn the sun, and this time you were able to push past him; the elevator getting closer and closer as you approached. You saw Jungkook, motionless, at the platform in front of the elevators; his eyes low in a glare aimed at Namjoon, who had followed you in your haste to escape.

“Hyung, you need to leave her alone.”

“Me? I’m her best friend. I would say you were her boyfriend, but we all heard her break up with you when she left the room crying.”

“That was just a misunderstanding. So like I said, leave her alone.” Jungkook stepped forward to his full height, chest to chest with his hyung, who prior to watching him force a kiss on you, he respected a lot. The tension on the floor was thick. You were mere steps from freedom, from Namjoon and Jungkook, when his words stopped you dead in your tracks. A misunderstanding? 

Did he not understand what the words ‘It’s over’ meant? That the contract, the relationship between the two of you, however real or fake, everything was null and void? 

“It wasn’t a misunderstanding, Jungkook.”

Big, confused, doe eyes turned to face you. “Y/N, please let’s just talk about th—”

“Why don’t you take your own advice and listen to her, Kook. You could never treat her how she deserves.” 

“Why don’t you go mind your own business Namjoon.” Jungkook bit back, fists clenched as he shook, holding back his anger. He just wanted to be alone to talk to you, but Namjoon was making it difficult.

“She is my business, she’s my best friend. She’s nothing to you now. Though, knowing you, that’s probably the reason she broke up with you. I bet you didn’t treat Somin right, and now you fucked up with Y/N. Can’t do anything right, can yo—”

Jungkook’s fist flew through the air before you could tell either of them to stop talking about what they don’t know. The sound of Namjoon’s jaw connecting to his fist echoed through the large room, and the crowd of bystanders yelled out in shock at watching a full on fight start in the building.

You yelled as Namjoon tackled Jungkook around his middle, tackling him to the ground before he reared back his fist to punch him back. 

“Namjoon, stop, STOP!” you yelled as Jungkook flipped Namjoon onto his back, swapping places as he took the liberty to return the blow. Putting down your laptop and bag haphazardly, you rushed closer. Leaning down, you grabbed at Jungkook’s arm that was cocked back to throw another punch, yelling his name frantically.

“Jungkook, Kookie, PLEASE STOP!”

The two men looked at your face, their chests rising and falling rapidly as they tried to catch their breath. Jungkook’s eyes were dilated. As he took in your state, he seemed to come back to his senses. He started to climb up off of where he straddled Namjoon, pinning him to the floor, his hand reaching up towards you from where he was kneeled on the ground.

“Y/N, I’m sorry baby, please just talk to me.” Jungkook’s bottom lip was split, a small bit of blood leaking from the cut. His cheekbone was red; you knew a bruise would form there. Namjoon too tried to sit up, leaning on his elbow as his split eyebrow spilled his blood down the side of his face. He too would be sporting a shiner for the next week or so. 

You almost reached for Jungkook, returned the gesture to cradle that beautiful face, but you couldn’t. Him fighting Namjoon changed nothing about the fact that Somin had the present you gave him, that she brought it to him as if she had given it to him, let alone the response he gave her when he saw it. Backing away, you almost tripped over your belongings before you thought to collect them, and then dashed into the elevator, leaving the two men bleeding on the floor as the doors shut, cutting off the view.

——

Dealing with the aftermath of the fight was not something you thought would be so difficult to do. 

Working remotely meant not being able to turn off your phone so you didn’t miss any important calls or texts. Unfortunately, it also meant you had to deal with the barrage of texts and calls from friends and co-workers wanting to know about the fight. 

According to Jimin, the only person other than Kim who you were responding to, the whole office heard about the fight. With Jin being Jungkook’s roommate, and of course being the resident gossip, news traveled fast that the two men got into a fist throwing match over you. This only had you double down on avoiding messages, calls, and not posting to social media. It was unlike you; as a fashionista who worked with models and artists like SeoulM8 and Kim Seokjin, people looked to your accounts for updates. 

Your silence was killing Jungkook, the one person who had not given up. Jungkook hated to not give people time, but he had the feeling like the more time you had, the faster you would slip from his fingertips. You stared at your phone, watching his name light up on the screen as a picture of the two of you, set as his contact photo, taunted you with memories. 

All you could do was lay there, curled up on your bed in your pajamas for the second day in a row, hating yourself. Hating the fact that you allowed yourself to break your rules, that you let Jungkook into your heart for a second time, only to watch it all come crashing down because he couldn’t let go of Somin. What did Somin have that you didn’t? How was it that she always won?

5 years ago you lost Jungkook to her, after giving him your virginity, something he knew was a big deal, as he had given his to you in exchange. And now again, you had so foolishly fallen into bed with him again, and he ran back to Somin. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice? You were already blaming yourself heavy for this one. 

Another day passed before you finally pulled yourself up out of bed long enough to shower and get dressed in a different set of sweats. A knocking sound at the front door had you tense up. Luckily, your sister answered the door, able to field away anyone who wanted to see you.

Creeping silently to the door of your bedroom, you cracked it open and listened to see who was there. From the angle you could see your sister, but not who was outside, nor could they see you. The warm tone was instantly recognizable, and your eyes widened as your sister looked back at you. Shaking your head profusely, she denied entry and shut the door, walking over to you. You back away from the door, letting her in as you sit on your bed. Crossing your legs, you grabbed a stuffie and clutched it to your chest.

“Hey, can you tell me what happened? Why are you hiding out at home and not answering Jungkook’s calls? What’s going on?”

You sighed, taking a much needed breath before you recounted the whole story. You told her about the journal entries being sent out, about how Namjoon had confronted you leading to you lying and saying you were with Jungkook, who came up with the plan to fake date each other until the Somin and Namjoon issues calmed down for both of you. 

She listened intently, shocked to hear that it was all fake, and she told you as much once you finished sharing about the fight that ensued on Monday.

“Sis, that man loves you. I could see it when he came to the door. I think you should talk to him.”

“No. It’s all my fault all of this happened anyways. If I hadn’t been drunk and sent those messages out, I would have never had to lie to Namjoon and start all of this.”

Yuna squirmed in your computer chair, her mouth twisted as if holding herself back.

“Actually, you didn’t do that.”

“What are you talking about Yuna? I saw the messages. I took the photos the night before because I wanted to upload them to an online journal platform.”

She nodded her head, wringing her fingers in her hand. “I know that, but you didn’t send them… I did.”

You stared at her, anger silently rising as you waited for her to continue. 

“I waited until you got into the shower. You know I read the entry to Namjoon, and so when you got into the shower, I used your phone and sent a message to each guy who’s name was both in the book and in your phone. I wanted you to have someone, instead of always spending your evenings at home, bored.”

“Yuna, you knew that I did not want Namjoon to know, he and Jennie had just... and I was trying to protect him, do you see what this did?!” You threw the plushie at her angrily, standing abruptly.

“I can’t believe you would invade my privacy, you could have ruined my career, if one of those messages had been sent to the wrong person, god damn it Yuna! You’ve ruined my fucking life!”

Yuna was crying, but she set the stuffed bunny back on your bed gently before she got up and headed to leave your room. Pausing at the door, her hand poised on the door knob, she turned back to face you.

“I didn’t ruin your life. You finally had a life. You’re the one running away from it now.”

With those parting words, she left your room, closing the door and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

After Yuna left you, she went to her own room, where she scrolled through social media to find Jungkook. You already blamed her, though she felt like it was misplaced, but she felt like she might as well do something to help fix the situation. Finding Jungkook’s IG account from the photos you tagged him in, she followed him. When he returned the follow, she messaged him to contact her. 

It didn’t take long for him to respond, and she asked him to meet her out somewhere. Agreeing on a local park, Yuna changed her shoes and left you moping in your room, a note on the counter that she was headed out.

Sitting on the bench, it wasn’t hard to spot Jungkook. His tousled black hair peeking from under his black beanie and the familiar black jacket was easy to spot against the white snow that had recently fallen, but like a Seoul snowfall, it wouldn’t stick for long. Carrying a hot cocoa for him and herself, Yuna held it out to him before she sat down, sipping on the warm drink.

“Yuna, I will say I’m surprised you reached out to me.” Jungkook’s usually bright voice was tinged with sadness as he looked over at her.

“I have something to tell you.” Yuna started, and Jungkook’s nerves grew.

“I was the one who sent the journal entry to you. Not my sister.”

“Oh? Okay. Thank you for telling me I guess.” Jungkook took another deep pull from the drink, letting the heat fill his body as he swallowed.

“I mean, I sent it because I didn’t want her to grow old and be alone. Every night, coming home bored to drink wine with her baby sister and watch reruns on Netflix? I wanted her to fall in love. And she did. With you.”

“I don’t think so, Yuna. She wasn’t in love with me.”

“She was; she still is! She told me everything that happened. About how dating you was all fake. But I know it wasn’t. Not for her. And not for you. No one acts the way you two acted. I know my sister; when she told me what happened, I knew that she was hurt because she’s in love with you. Like, still in love with you. She just doesn’t believe you love her back.”

Yuna stared at Jungkook, watching the way her words sank in, waiting to confirm what she already knew: Jungkook was in love with you, too.

Jungkook’s voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “How do I convince her? That I love her back?” 

“I wish I knew Jungkook. I wish I knew. But if you don’t do something soon, I think you’ll lose her.”

——

Friday was New Year’s Eve, and you had to put up with Yuna running around like a lunatic cleaning the apartment to ring in the new year. You had finally resigned yourself to forgiving her for sending the journal entries. It was over and done with, and there was nothing more to do. Monday, you would be back at work like nothing happened, and didn’t want to go into the new year holding onto this year’s anger or sadness.

Yoongi, surprisingly, had reached out to you the day before about a party he was having to ring in the new year, and at first you didn’t want to go, but the longer you thought about it, you figured you should. Why spend the new year at home, where your sister would relentlessly tease you until she left. She had her own plans this year, going to a classmates to drink and watch the fireworks; so if you stayed home, you would be alone.

And you were tired of being alone. Sleeping in, you didn’t get up to join your sister in cleaning until later in the afternoon, going through your closet, bedroom, and bathroom.

You were scrubbing your shower when you heard the doorbell, but your sister, ever the nosey one, yelled that she would get it, so you continued cleaning, forgetting that someone had come to the door by the time you finished cleaning the bathroom. 

When you finally stopped cleaning for the day, it was close to 9 PM, so you decided to get ready for the night out at Yoongi and Hobi’s place. After about an hour and a half, you were dressed, makeup done, and ready for the party. You ventured out of your room, noticing a large blue hatbox on the kitchen counter.

“Yuna! What’s this blue box?” you yelled, and her reply carried from down the hall.

“A delivery, for you, from earlier!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you grumbled, cursing your sibling as you reached to remove the lid off of it. Inside was what looked like a photobook, a beautiful ombre of pinks and purples decorating the cover. Removing it from the box, you flip it open, noticing right away the neat handwriting that could only belong to one person. 

Sighing, you carry it to the couch, where you read the inscription he penned inside. 

“Right at this moment, I think of you.” 

Flipping through the pages, you see he’s created a scrapbook of the past month spent together. Pictures of the two of you at work, the park, each other’s places, and visiting each other’s families. Pictures of you sleeping in his arms, candids where you aren’t even aware of him taking the photos.

Each photo is vibrant, in his style of catching the light just right as it caresses your face, and you’ve never seen yourself look so beautiful. He’s scribbled little notes here and there, of what he noticed or what was happening when he snapped the camera, and you can’t help but blush when you see a photo in there of you after the two of you had sex. 

“I reach out my hand, and feel your breath. With eyes closed, before we know it, we’re together.”

Your fingers trace over the photo, where Jungkook’s face is, looking at you so lovingly as you sleep on his chest, the bed sheets from his childhood bedroom covering you both strategically so nothing indecent shows. 

The last page has a handwritten letter, not unlike the one you wrote for him all those years ago, with a tiger lily pressed inside. You looked up the meaning of the flower earlier in the day when you found the large vase while cleaning. Please love me. With shaky hands, you held the photobook and began to read.

Y/N, 

5 years ago, you thought you were in love. I can tell you with certainty that 5 years later I pray that you are, because I am so in love with you. The way you see me, I don’t think I’ve ever been seen before. My whole life I’ve been behind the camera capturing others. And somehow you have taken the camera from me and now I’m the one being captured and seen. And I love it. You make me feel like I’m not just made up of the same ingredients that make up the stars in the sky, you make me feel like the very galaxy reflected in your eyes when you look at me. You’re beautiful, and I, Jeon Jungkook, am so in love with you. When I say I’ve always loved you, that there is no start, so there can be no end: we are fated—destined; you are mine as much as I am yours. These photos are only a fraction of the way I see you, the many shades that make up who you are, how could I ever capture them all? Please know, I want to spend the rest of time trying. So in case you didn’t see it, or weren’t sure: I love you. I want to be with you. No contracts, just you, wholeheartedly as mine, and me as yours.

——

It was nearing 11 when you reached Yoongi and Hobi’s house, leaving the Uber driver with a confused look at the way you dashed out of his car. You could care less; the man you were in love with was inside that house, right now, and you would be damned to let him get away again.

Pushing through the crowd of bodies, you looked side to side, searching for the familiar black tresses, ears straining to hear his musical laugh or catch someone saying his name. Entering the living room, your eyes fell on the beer pong table, where Jimin and Taehyung were playing against Yoongi and Hobi. 

Destination set on getting to that table, you wade through the throng of people with the obligatory happy new year. Some attempted to stop to ask you how you’ve been, fill you in on the latest office gossip, or inquire about the exact relationship status of Jungkook. Those in the latter category were met with major side-eye. Plastering a fake smile on your face each time, you finally shake the last of them, jogging the last few steps until your right on the edge of the game.

“Y/N! Glad to see you!” Hobi was his typical cheerful self, greeting you with his signature smile as he watched Taehyung try and line up his shot in the cups Yoongi just re-racked.

“Hey Hobi, Happy almost New Year! Have you seen Jungkook?” you asked, skipping straight to the point.

“Um, yea, he came by earlier to drop off a few kegs for us, helped us move the furniture, but he went home. Said he wasn’t really feeling like celebrating.”

Yoongi, who had just grabbed the ping pong balls before they bounced off the table, handed one to Hobi as he gave you a pointed look.

“Yea, looked pretty heartbroken all week, if you ask me.”

“Well, no one did Yoongi. Give her a break,” Hobi answered before turning to you, “he’s probably at home. You can get there before midnight if you get an Uber quick.”

Thanking him, you threw your arms around him and Yoongi in a shared hug before waving to the other two on the far side of the table. You had someplace to be.

Outside in the quiet, you requested an Uber, happy to see one not even 2 minutes away. Thankfully, Jungkook only lived 10 minutes or so from the guys. You hoped traffic would be on your side. You knew you were cutting it close; 11:30 was approaching fast.

The ride to Jungkook’s apartment gave you too much time to think. Those 15 minutes (thanks drunk pedestrians) on the car ride over allowed the nerves to settle in, along with the doubt and fears. What if he didn’t feel that way about you anymore? What if he just wanted to bring you the photobook as a goodbye?

Shaking the thought from your head, you took a deep breath before you climbed out of the car and into the hushed cold of the last day of December. You had never shown up to his place unannounced like this, so used to trailing him into his apartment. The closed door was daunting to you, but you didn’t have much time now.

Knocking louder than you needed to due to those pesky butterflies in your stomach, what feels like an hour is only 10 seconds or so until Jungkook is standing before you. 

“Hi,” you said, breathless from the cold and from the sight of him after so many days apart.

“Hi,” he responded, looking just as mesmerized to see you at his doorstep, “uh, wanna come in?” Jungkook took a step back, giving you space to come in and you stepped forward into the welcomed warmth of his home.

The scene before you is not what you were expecting. Jungkook had been sitting in the dark, a half eaten pizza and a beer bottle on the coffee table, with his favorite blue and grey plaid blanket haphazardly cast aside on the couch; most likely from when he stood to welcome you.

Shucking off your boots, you walked into the living room, Jungkook silently trailing you.

“I—I’ve missed you.” His voice is low, as if afraid he would spook you.

“I’ve missed you too.” You turned to face him, the light from the paused Netflix show reflecting in his beautiful orbs. You took in his face, split lip mostly healed and the bruise faded along his cheek.

“I got your gift.”

“I’m glad.”

The conversation between the two of you was static, neither sure of what to do. The silence ticked on for a few more seconds before you decided to stop being a pussy.

“Did you mean it? What you said?”

“Of course I did.”

“I’m glad,” you repeated his earlier phrase, stepping closer to him. You placed your hands on his chest, solid muscles reacting to your touch as he subconsciously flexed them. “Because I love you, too.”

Rising on your tippy toes, you pressed your lips to his, your body relaxing when you heard the sigh he let out from the contact. His hands pulled you closer, deft fingers gripping you in all the right places as he deepened the kiss. He tasted faintly of pizza and beer, and smelled so strongly of his vanilla musk. You couldn’t believe how much he felt like home to you. Being in his arms felt right. 

Bending slightly, Jungkook wrapped his arms under your thighs and lifted you up, never breaking the kiss. Hoisting you up, he carried you down the hall to his room, foot kicking the door shut behind him. So turned on by his show of strength, you rolled your hips down onto what was his growing length, seeking any friction that would help ease the ache between your thighs. 

Letting out a groan, Jungkook’s hands guided your hips roughly to where he wanted you, lining up your sweet spot so you could grind on him better. Licking into his mouth, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. A slight tug exposed more of his neck, where you planted markers of your territory as you continued rolling your hips in time to his movements. 

“I want you.” The whispered words went straight to your core; hearing Jungkook’s voice break with need, need for you—you couldn’t get out of your clothes fast enough.

“Bed. Now.” You demand, and he laughs as he follows your directives, setting you down once he approached the edge of his queen sized mattress. You tug your jacket off, tossing it to the foot of his bed before peeling your shirt up over your head to reveal your bra to him. He doesn’t get to look too long; you’ve gripped the waistband of his grey sweatpants and pulled them low enough to free him from it’s confines. His cock sprung free, and, licking your lips, you switch positions with him. 

With his back to the bed, you pushed him down, and he went easily. Pressing your hand to his chest, you lay him back as you bend at the waist, bringing your mouth to his leaking head. You lick the bottom of his shaft up to the slit, collecting the pre-cum with the tip of your tongue before you take the head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip. Under your hand, you feel his abdominal muscles contract as he lets out a moan letting you know how good you feel as you take him farther into your mouth. 

Speeding your ministrations, you hollow your cheeks as you slurp around the head, using your hands to massage the dripping spit along the exposed skin you can’t reach. His hands grip your hair creating a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of your face so he can watch you. And wow, does he love the sight of your lips wrapped around his cock, innocent eyes blinking coyly up at him while your mouth is stretched around him. Keep it up and he could cum too quickly in your mouth.

When your free hand traveled to his scrotum, he jumped, feeling an overwhelming sense of pleasure as his sack tensed up.

“Wait, baby, I don’t want to cum yet.” Jungkook panted, and you pop off of him with a lewd sound that filled the quiet of his room.

Tugging you towards him, he scooted back on the bed until his head was flush with the headboard. 

“Strip for me,” he urged, and you did, undoing the button on your jeans and sliding them down until you were naked from the waist down. His eyes stared pointedly at your chest and you unclasped your bra, adding it to the growing pile of clothes the two of you had made. Watching as he shed his shirt before laying back fully, kicking his sweats free from his body, you climbed onto the bed, and he directed you farther up his body until he could maneuver your thighs to either side of his face. 

“Jungkook—”

“I’ve wanted you like this for so long, baby, please.”

Giggling softly, you lowered yourself slowly and he wound his arms around your thighs until his palms were wrestling lightly on them. The slow caress as he drew patterns on your skin matched the same pattern he drew with his tongue, you realized once he had you fully seated. Gripping the headboard, you threw your head back, rolling your hips as his lips and tongue ravaged you, the sexual sounds of him eating you out creating more for him to drink down. 

Curving your back to make you hunch forward, you adjust as the pleasure builds and you see his eyes, those bright galaxies staring at you as he pleasured you to climax and you tensed as the coil in your abdomen snapped, a mix of curse words and his name pouring from your lips as he worked you through it.

Placing your hands on his sweat laced forehead, you pushed to try and pull away from the overstimulation as he let out a laugh.

Scooting yourself down his body once he released you, you fell back and to the side of his muscular thighs, trying to catch your breath. You feel him moving, a low chuckle released as his hands grasped your wrists. Pulling you up, you see he’s now seated flush to the headboard, back against the soft grey padding. He guides your hips so that you straddle him, sitting your still sopping wet cunt onto his cock. Pressed against his stomach, he can feel the warmth emanating from your opening, and groaned, wanting to be inside of you.

Pressing his forehead to yours, his eyes meet yours as he intertwines your fingers before resting your interlocked hands behind your back at the curve of your ass.

“I love you.” His voice is strong, sure and confident in the words he says as he bares more than just his body before you. “I wanted you so badly back then, I want you even more now.” He presses a kiss to your lips, causing you to grind down on him. 

He kisses down your neck, hands still holding you in position over him. “Want to be inside of you, baby.” He nips at your neck, making you gasp, and when you rock forward, he’s rocking his hips down. 

The head of his cock presses against your core, and you settle back onto it, walls stretching to accommodate his girth. The two of you move in tandem, lips once again reunited in a raunchy kiss that only serves to turn you on more, sending enough slick between your lower lips to allow him to slip further into you until he’s bottomed out, a snug fit as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix. 

Releasing your hands, his large palms hold your back to pull you closer to him as you swivel your hips, rocking so the shaft slips in and out of you in short bounces. You rock, arms wrapped lazily around his neck as you play with the wet locks of hair as you ride him at your leisure, just enjoying the feel of your bodies connected as one. Chest to chest, you can feel the speed of his heart beat; it matches your own. 

“Can I go faster?” you asked, not wanting to go at a pace he wasn’t comfortable with.

“You can use me however you want, baby,” he replied, eyebrow cocked smugly as he gripped your waist tighter, “but please tell me I can cum inside.”

Nodding as you sped up, you bounced with more friction, his pelvic bone rubbing against your clit as you chased your high, fucking yourself on his formiddable cock.

“That’s it, fuck, baby, right there—” Jungkook’s moans, musical as he egged you on, brought you to your peak for the second time that night. Your walls clenched around him, and as your body froze, he took advantage of the moment to shift your bodies so you were on your back with your head to the foot of the bed. Bracing his feet on edge where his mattress met the headboard, he began to piston his hips into you, chasing his own high.

“Fuck, Jungkook, I’m gonna—again—” You can barely get the words out when your third orgasm is crashing around you, legs shaking from where they’re wrapped tightly around his narrow hips. Your release makes it wetter, and your swollen walls ache to feel his cum fill you.

“Gonna fill you up so good, baby, fuck a—baby into you, fuck, I want to see you carry my—my kid,” Jungkook’s cock is drowning in your essence, and hearing him talk about kids with you causes you to tighten around him, and he’s cumming, long ropes of his hot cum filling you until it’s seeping out around him as he continues to thrust indiscriminately, velvet muscle milking him dry.

Laying skin to skin in his bed, you laugh as the alarm clock numbers alert you to the fact that you had missed the New Year by 38 minutes. 

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook asked, eyes alight as he takes in your smile. 

“We missed New Year’s.”

“We didn’t miss it, we were simply enjoying our New Year’s kiss for longer than most.” He quipped back, fingers tracing patterns along your back. Your own nails were lightly scratching shapes into his chest as you rested your head on his shoulder. You spent the next 20 minutes of the first hour of the new year listening to him explain what happened with the camera strap, though you had already forgiven the incident. 

He wasn’t sure how Somin had the camera strap, though he suspected she stole it from his bag at the cafe. Jungkook told you about the meeting, how it helped him see that you weren’t a rebound; he was in love with you and while it was obvious to him, a part of him wanted to be sure before confessing to you. He didn’t want you to think he was rushing into things to get over his ex. He also apologized for fighting Namjoon, saying he was worried that seeing him fight would change how you viewed him, change his chances of being with you, this time for real.

“I love you, Jungkook, in case you didn’t know.”

“I love you too, in case you didn’t know.” 

“Hmm, but, I think we need to talk about children though, I think it’s a little too soon, despite our parents' ideas.” You giggled, and his cheeks turned red in embarrassment.

“It was just sex talk, we’re still just practicing, okay?”

Stretching, you roll away from his body, and he follows your body heat subconsciously, his body not wanting you far from him after almost a week of radio silence. 

“Hey, get back here, you’re mine.”

“Oh am I?” you teased, staying just out of his reach.

He pouted, accent slipping out as he moved closer to your retreating body.

“Yes, you’re mine, no rules, no contracts; just mine.”

“ ‘m all yours, baby,” you mumbled as you rubbed your nose to his in an eskimo kiss as he gathered you up in his arms, “and you’re mine.”

UPDATE (5.18.21): 1st Prologue is Out Now!

BTW, ily ⟢ summary: Taking place in the To All the Men I’ve Fucked Before (TATMIFB) AU, this pre-story is the backstory to you and Namjoon’s friendship. A year after losing your virginity to Jungkook, you meet Namjoon, who becomes your best friend… and who you want so much more with. Before you and Jungkook get it together in To All the Men I’ve Loved Before, there was BTW, ily.

Thank you all so much for reading! I plan on doing an epilogue and some drabbles to get more insight into the pasts of these characters! I love them so much, I don’t think I am ready to let go. The masterlist will be updated as more are added! TATMIFB Masterlist

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2021. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

#hisunshiine #hisunshiine event #hisunshiine writings #bts au #bta fic #bts story #bts fanfic #jungkook #bts v #jimin #j hope #suga #jin #bts rm #jungkook story #bts v story #jimin story #j hope story #suga story #jin story #bts rm story #Netflix ReImagined BTS #hisunshiinewritings #bts fic #bts fanfiction #to all the boys au #tatbilb au #TATMIFB #hisunshiine: TATMIFB

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Amethyst you so much

Summary: Spencer has had a crush on Y/N since she started working at the bau. She only ever works the night shift after a case, handling all the aftermath gracefully. one night, Spencer stays back and they strike up a conversation about rocks, causing their feelings to dig a little deeper.

Warnings: pure fluff, weed mention, hurt/comfort, grief and mourning

Word Count: 6.4K

Read on Ao3

Late nights at the office had become his thing since Gideon left.

He couldn’t bring himself to go home some nights without a game of chess, a cup of coffee, and the ambiance of the post case staff working. He would’ve had no idea about what goes on after they close a case if he didn’t stay behind most nights.

The phone rings almost every 10 minutes, and it’s always answered by the sweetest voice. The fax machine never turns off, and the most beautiful girl in the world is always running around placing papers in different places.

He’s been smitten with her since she started here, 2 years ago. Never seeing much of her since she was switched to the night shift, always wanting to just watch her from afar, never speaking to her unless he needed to.

“Yes, again we are so sorry for the door,” he can hear her voice from the back corner of the room. “Agent Morgan will be paying for that out of his paycheck, don’t worry, Mr. Kennings. We’ll be sure to remember your hotel when we’re in the area again. The FBI has a very generous budget for overnight cases. Of course, you have a good night too.”

She hung the phone up harshly and let out a deep sigh. He turned around to see her face in her arms, resting against the desk. She looked done, completely fed up. He would be too.

She looked up then, noticing that he was making eye contact with her. She awkwardly smiled and waved at him, “sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Spencer replied. “We asked for the key, I should have stopped him from kicking it in.”

She laughed then, walking over to his desk so she didn’t have to yell across the room. She sat on the corner of his desk lightly, “why do you stay every night?”

“Oh, um,” he wasn’t prepared for this. She had never talked to him before. She was barely able to even look at him when she used to place papers on his desk 2 years ago, now she was on his desk.

“I don’t like to bring the work home with me, it’s better to destress here before I go to my apartment,” he answered, half honestly.

She nodded slightly, “I get it. Luckily I go home in the mornings so the sun helps me feel better.”

“Going home in the dark isn’t fun,” she lightly smiled up at her.

“Do you want a coffee or anything?” She asked softly, “seeing as I am still your assistant as long as you’re here?”

He laughed lightly, “I would, but I’d like to join you in the staff room for it?”

“Okay,” she stood, straightening out her shirt as he stood as well.

He held the doors open for her, letting her walk out first, still smiling as she waited in the hall for him. Never being anything less than 1 foot from him for some reason, and he didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Do you like your job?” He asked lightly.

“Oh yeah,” she laughed. “It’s like customer service on crack. Have you ever had to explain to someone why you can’t pay for the cracked foundation after Agent Morgan’s ransacked a place?”

“I honestly never thought of who has to deal with the aftermath,” he awkwardly admitted to her. “I’m so sorry.”

She couldn’t stop laughing as they entered the kitchen, “it’s fine. I never have to apologize on your behalf, it’s everyone else who seems to be reckless. Sometimes I feel like it would be better if I came along to babysit.”

“That would be helpful,” he smiled softly as she entered the staff room.

He watched as she took a new coffee filter out of the cupboard. Emptying the coffee pot with ease, rinsing everything before adding the water and scooping in the grounds. He was mesmerized by how fast she was able to do it, then again it was sort of her job.

“What mug would you like?” She turned to him with a smile that made his heart skip a beat.

“Um, the purple one, if it’s there?”

“You really like purple, huh?” She teased him, standing on her tippy-toes to reach the mug for him.

She placed it on the counter before grabbing a white mug, it had a bumblebee on it, “bee happy” written along the top. It was perfect for her.

“Purple is a stress-reducing colour,” she explained. “When I was a kid my parents painted my room purple so that I’d sleep better.”

“I’ve always been drawn to it.”

She leaned against the counter while the coffee pot started to percolate, “Probably because of your anxiety, coffee doesn’t help that.”

“It’s in my DNA to be like this,” he tried to joke, knowing he succeeded when her smile crept back onto her face.

He was on a mission to keep seeing it.

“For someone who spends a lot of time with dead bodies, creepy places and bad people, you sure are a mousy little thing aren’t you?” She teased him.

“I also love Halloween, go figure.” He’s not sure where the confidence came from, being able to make light-hearted jokes like this was only easy with the team.

Which she technically was a part of. He’s seen her almost every single day for 3 years, slowly being able to get comfortable enough for this very moment.

“What else are you into, outside of here?” She asked honestly, making his heart swell as no one else had ever asked him before.

“Lots of things,” he sighed. “I love to read, I’ll read anything. But mostly I enjoy far-off worlds. Lord of the Rings, Star Trek, Doctor Who, Sherlock mostly.”

“No supernatural?” She gasped. “Sacrilege, honestly. What kind of nerd are you if you don't support supperwholock?”

“That's the show with the monster hunting brothers right?” He tried to recall it to his mind.

She nodded with a pressed-lipped smile, “it’s bad but in a way where I can’t stop watching every Thursday, they just introduced an angel who is pretty gay. Star Trek is cool too, I guess, I was raised by Trekkies.”

“My mom was into Doctor Who.”

“Mamma’s boy,” she teased him slightly, returning her focus to the coffee as she poured the now finished brew into their mugs. “She was nice when she came in that one time, I made her a very sweet coffee just like yours.”

He reached for the sugar then, poring a generous amount into his mug with a grin, “how much do you like?”

“the same amount,” she couldn’t help but laugh. “I hate the taste of coffee, but it keeps me awake.”

He poured the sugar into her mug as she places a spoon in each. Allowing him to stir his own before picking it up finally. Holding the warm ceramic in his hands, it was almost as warm as the feeling in his chest when he looked at her.

He’s felt it for a long time. He’s been caught staring at her by Derek, JJ even tried to get him to give her his number. Which she already had for when she calls him into work in the middle of the night. They knew he had a crush, he did too. He just didn’t know what to do about it.

“Come to my desk, I want to show you something?” She asked softly, avoiding eye contact as she walked towards the door.

He followed, like a lost puppy, all the way back to her desk. It was always neat, he always looked at it when he made his way up the stairs to the briefing room. He could even see it from where he sat at the table sometimes. Always wanting to see her leave in the mornings.

She had a collection of rocks that always changed, he loved the blue one the most but it wasn’t there currently. She had all new ones since the last time he looked.

“Here,” she hands him one. It’s brown and gold, the colours moving and shifting as he turns it with his fingers. The gold running through it like a beautiful wave.

“what’s this for?”

“It’s a Tiger’s eye, for good luck and happiness,” she smiled. “Keep it at your desk and maybe it’ll be easier for you to relax when you come back?”

The butterflies in his chest were swirling then as she looked up at him with pleading eyes. Wanting him to take it, wanting him to feel better. Caring for him.

“Thank you,” he barely whispers, clearing his throat softly. “It’s very nice of you.”

“You’re always nice to me, so,” she shrugged.

They sat down then, he dragged his chair from his desk over to hers. Sitting in close as she explained all the meanings to her rocks. He listened carefully, getting to examine each one as she spoke.

“This one is Jade, it’s for balancing emotions and allowing compassion so I don’t scream at everyone on the phone,” she laughed as she placed one in his hands. Her fingers brushing his palm softly.

It was a beautiful green stone with a thin white line running through it, separating into 3 directions as he flipped it over, “it’s beautiful.”

“I know some people don’t believe in this stuff,” she started to get embarrassed as she placed them all back on the shelf. “But I’ve always thought; if the moon, which is just a rock, can control the water, and humans are 70% water, then who’s to tell me the moon cycles don’t control my emotions and these smaller rocks can’t help problem areas?”

“You’re not wrong,” he shook his head softly as he thought her words over. “People depended on the stars and planets for guidance originally, as well as rocks and herbs for healing, just because it’s outdated doesn’t mean it doesn’t work?”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “No one has ever agreed with me that easily.”

“Anytime you want to talk, I’ll just be over there,” he pointed at his desk. “And I’m a phone call away?” He swallowed sharply at his boldness, trying to stay calm as he awaited her answer.

“I do have your number,” she smiled, reaching out to place her hand on his. “But you should go home, I’m sure you’re chilled out now.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, staring at her hand as they touched. He lightly wrapped his hand around hers, holding it slightly, running his thumb over her knuckles. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“And every day after,” she whispered, tilting her head as she smiled at him.

This was going to be interesting.

—

Penelope was always dragging him out. She would take him shopping, to dinner, to the movies. She was like his big sister, dedicated to making sure he wasn’t always cooped up or trying to retreat into a fantasy life.

She kept him busy.

She had 4 bags in her hands as they walked down the street, peering into the store windows to see what else she could possibly be interested in taking home for someone. That’s when they passed the natural health store.

He stopped in his tracks, seeing all the different rocks on the wall accompanies by little cards that described how they could help. He opened the door and rushed inside before Penelope even noticed he stopped following her.

“Good afternoon!” The shop owner called out to him. “How can I assist you today?”

“Um, the girl I like has a rock collection,” he says softly, knowing Penelope is behind him listening. “Crystals more specifically, I’d like to get her some?”

“Well, you came to the right place,” the man beams, escorting him to the wall of rocks. “What is she like?”

“Wonderful,” the words are carried out of his mouth on a sigh as he thinks about her. “She’s confident and nice, and caring. She’s always positive and just so lovely.”

“I’ve got you,” the man starts picking rocks off the wall and placing them in his hands.

Spencer follows him to the desk where he lays down a handful of rocks, Penelope is shockingly quiet as she stands beside him, staring at the collection. She’ll be full of questions later, all of which he is terrified of.

“This is a rose quartz, pretty basic love, beauty, anti-depression stone,” he pushes the pink and a green rock towards him. “Serpentine is for new adventures, observation and insight. I have a feeling you’re up for an adventure with her?”

Spencer nodded enthusiastically, “I like that one. It would be better to get her some rare ones, some that have to do with friendship, new beginnings, or opportunities?” He tried to explain his feelings as best as he could. Not knowing if he sounded dumb for a change.

The man smiled wide, “here,” he dipped below the counter and dug out a box. “Chrysocolla is literally for new beginnings, love and opportunity.”

He hands Spencer a vitreous, raw blue stone with small green marks running all through it, it’s beautiful like her. “This is perfect.”

“I’ll throw in a Kiwi Jasper as well, it’s for being by someone's side, support and trust. As well as a Ruby in Zoisite it symbolizes finding the joy in life with someone,” he hands Spencer two equally beautiful stones, prepping a bag and wrappings for all of them.

Spencer lays out the 5 stones he picked out, watching him wrap them with care before placing them in a bag. He rings everything up, Spencer pays and before he’s even out the door Penelope is pouncing on him for answers.

“Who?!”

He can't help but blush and stutter, trying to brush past her and continue walking down the street. “You can’t hide forever Spencer, who is she?”

“How do you know it’s a she?”

“You literally said so?” She looks at him like he’s an idiot. “Come on? I won't tell anyone!”

“Y/N.”

The gears are turning in Penelope's head as she tries to place a face to the name, knowing she’s seen her somewhere, “From the office?”

He nods softly, “the one Derek bullies me for staring at?” He clues her in more as they walk.

“He also bullies her for staring at you,” she adds with a smile. “She’s going to love those, when are you going to give them to her?”

“I was thinking about just leaving one on her desk every day? Maybe with a note for why I picked it?” He really wants to woo her, she’s too special to just flirt with.

“She’s going to love that.”

—

Sure enough, he walked into work every day for the next week, placing a rock on a sticky note on her desk. He was never around when she was able to see it, only knowing she got it when he'd arrive at work the next morning with a note reading 'thank you ♥︎ ' on top of his files.

He thinks about her all weekend, planning how he'll give her the last rock as he takes the elevator up that morning. Only to see her sitting at her desk, phone pressed to her ear as she tried to talk someone out of suing the FBI, she looked absolutely miserable. Just a casual Monday morning for her, almost at the end of her shift.

He rushed over to his desk, putting all his stuff down to dig one of the rocks from his satchel. Picking the Kiwi Jasper for today, he grabbed a pen and a sticky note and wrote her a little note.

“Always here if you need to talk, -Spencer ♥︎”

He walked over to her desk, she was still talking so she didn’t notice him until he was right there, she looked up at him with a thankful smile.

“Yes sir,” she answered the person talking to her. “Can I call you back after I speak to the chief? thanks.” She hung up on him, turning all her attention to Spencer.

“I know you know it's been me leaving these, but I brought you in another one,” he says softly, placing the rock in her hand and sticking the note to the shelf where it would end up.

“oh my gosh, Spencer?” She placed her free hand on her heart as she looked at the rock.

“You looked upset?”

She stands and pulls him into a hug, he can feel all the eyes on him as he holds her back, letting his chin rest on her shoulder as she squeezes him.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she pulled back, awkwardly smiling at him as she also noticed everyone staring.

“Always,” he smiled back, hand still resting on her arm. “Um, I have a case I need to get to.”

“Of course, good luck,” she smiled.

He pulls the tiger's eye out of his shirt pocket, showing her that he still had it, “kinda hard not to have good luck with this.”

She bit back a smile, her eyes gleaming as she took a deep breath through her nose. Releasing the same feelings he was keeping inside, allowing both their butterflies to swarm out together.

—

He loved when they had cases in Virginia. Being able to stay in the bullpen and work was relaxing, it was easier to think where he felt safe.

He was working on the geo profile all alone, a huge map stretched across a clear case board as he laid a yardstick across it. Drawing a thick red line with marker over it, in his own little world as he worked away.

He doesn’t realize she’s standing there too until she’s lightly pressing her hand on his back.

“Hey,” she whispers softly. “It’s 10 pm, thought you’d like a coffee?” She places the purple mug on his desk with her purse, turning her attention back to what he’s doing.

“Thank you, I’m almost done here,” he says softly, finishing the red triangle he was making on the map.

“I’ve always found it fascinating how you do this,” she complimented him. “You’re so careful.”

“Like baking, it’s an exact science,” he smiled softly.

It made her giggle slightly, placing her hand back on his back as she moved in closer to look. He wanted her to stay there forever, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to focus. He tried his best to steady his hand as he finished the line.

Putting the yardstick back down and turning to her, she doesn’t move her hand, instead, softly moving to rest on his arm as she stands close to him. “How are you?”

He feels nervous for some reason, it’s not like she hasn’t been this close to him before. It’s just that she’s close and she smells wonderful and he wonders if her lips would be a better wake-up call than the coffee she brought.

He realizes he’s staring at her lips when he licks his own, “I’m good,” he furrows his brow and clears his throat with a nod.

She smirks at him, “how come you’re the only one still here? Hotch said it could wait till tomorrow?”

“I was waiting for you,” he admits, “but I got carried away setting this up, I never heard you come in?”

“Cause I didn’t,” she scrunches her nose slightly as she straightens her stance. “I saw you working hard and went right to get you a coffee.”

“You’re wonderful,” he blushes as the words slip out, trying his best to keep eye contact when all he wants to do is kiss her.

She pats his arm slightly as she backs up a little, grabbing her bag from where she set it on his desk. “I’m going to set up for the night, come talk to me before you leave?”

“Of course,” he says as she walks away, letting out a small sigh as he realizes just how badly he wants her.

He never gets to talk to her before he leaves, she’s on the phone when hotch comes storming in. Saying something about another body and making Reid leave with him. He’s busy for 3 days straight, thinking about her with every free thought he’s able to squeeze in.

He carries the rock from her in his pocket everywhere he goes; in his pants beside his keys, in his bag with his books, in his breast pocket, over his heart, behind a bulletproof vest. Feeling it press against his chest, a part of her keeping him safe where ever he went.

They finish the case with minimal damage, Spencer specifically making sure that Derek leaves all the doors on the hinges for Y/N’s sake, cleaning up any messes they make so she won’t have to hear about it over the phone. They all notice that he’s doing it for her, quietly appreciating the fact that Spencer is happy for a change, that there’s a glimmer of hope in his eyes again.

He arrives back at Quantico 30 minutes before her shift starts. Everyone else is packing up for the day while he sits at his desk, reading to occupy the time before she comes in.

Only she doesn’t.

30 minutes pass and she’s nowhere to be seen, it’s only 9:02 by the time he starts to panic. Wondering if she’s okay, hoping she’s just in the elevator or grabbing a coffee that’s actually good, somewhere outside of the office.

“Reid,” he hears Hotch calling him from his office door. “She just called in, her grandmother passed away last night so she won't be in.”

“Oh,” he furrows his brow, looking at him with confusion. “How did you know?”

“Penelope,” he smiles. “She’s still here too, and she knows where Y/N lives.”

“It wouldn’t be weird to go see if she’s okay?”

Hotch just smiles at him again, “go see her, Reid.”

Getting her address from Penelope felt a little weird, but she writes it on a sticky note for him and he’s out the door before she can even pry into what he’s going to say. Which is good, because he doesn’t know yet.

It’s late, but he stops by the little rock store on his way to her house. Seeing the lights still on and the same man from before behind the counter.

“Welcome back,” he’s overly cheerful for it being so late. “How did she like them?”

“She likes the ones I’ve given her so far,” he smiles, looking over the wall himself this time for the right one.

Scanning past every emotion and affirmation known to man as he looked around, picking out a beautiful pink Rhodonite for healing grief, supposedly acting as a hug from emotional troubles. And a Rainbow Moonstone for inner peace, harmony and strength.

“She’s lost someone recently?” He asks as Spencer places them on the counter.

“Her grandmother,” he says softly. “These are good, right?”

“They’ll be perfect, we also have amethyst bracelets, they’re good for healing and drawing in positive energy,” he points towards the small display of bracelets. Small purple stones separated with small gold beads.

He picks up 2 of them, placing them on the counter as well.

“Is she still just a crush?”

Spencer laughs lightly, “unfortunately.”

“She might be more after this,” he smirks, ringing him up. “I’ll give you a 2 for one deal on everything, I have a feeling you’ll be in a lot.”

Spencer thanks him as he pays, picking out a small purple bag for the rocks and bracelet. Placing one on his own wrist before leaving. Also picking up some cookie dough ice cream and a card at the corner store just beside her apartment. Remembering all the times Penelope, JJ or Emily has mentioned it being the best ice cream for crying.

He takes a very deep breath before knocking on her door, hoping to every god out there that she doesn’t find this incredibly inappropriate and weird.

“Spencer?” He hears her voice before she even opens the door, looking out the peephole at him.

She whips the door open, eyes puffy and swollen as she looks at him in shock. She’s in a big sweater and shorts, tears dripping down her cheeks as she shakes her head at him.

“I thought you could use some cheering up?” He awkwardly smiles, holding the ice cream up for her to see.

She wraps her arms around his middle, burying her face against his coat. Still crying as she holds him, he holds her with his free hand, shushing her as he presses his cheek to her head.

She pulls back with a sniffle, “come in,” she offers with an arm out, ushering him inside the small room as she closes the door.

He takes his shoes off, handing her the ice cream so he can take off his coat and satchel too. “This isn’t weird right?”

“Not at all,” she laughs slightly through the awkwardness. “You don’t know how much it means to me that you care this much.”

“I brought something for you,” he says as he struggles to dig everything out of his pocket.

He hands her the card and the little purple bag, seeing the overwhelming glance grow on her face. Her eyes grew wide as he mouth opened, speechless.

She opened the card first, reading the passage about grief that was already provided. Dealing with grief was something Spencer knew too well, adding something a little special to the bottom of the card.

“To live in hearts we left behind is not to die,” -Thomas Campbell. As long as you remember her, with a smile on your face and love in your heart, she will always be with you ♥︎ Spencer

She wipes her tears with her forearm, placing the card on the counter beside the ice cream before she opens the bag. She pulls out the bracelet first, absolute shock on her face.

“Spencer?” Is all she can say, in a high squeak as she shakes her head at him.

“I didn’t want you to be sad,” he says softly, stepping into her space and placing a hand on her arm. “I love seeing you smile, and I thought this could help.

He takes the bracelet from her grasp and places it over her hand. Resting it on her wrist softly, straightening it out against her sweater as she notices the matching on over his shirt sleeve.

“Oh this is so cute,” she swoons. “thank you, really Spencer.”

“And there are some rocks for grief healing in there too, one is supposedly like an emotional hug which should heal the grief and sorrow, and the other is more for inner peace and harmony,” he rambles away, not wanting her to miss anything.

She pours the rocks from the bag, into her hand, looking them over silently with a smile, “they’ll look great on my desk.”

“The purple looks nice on you too,” he compliments her, watching her eyes drift up to him.

She places the rocks on the counter before wrapping her arms around him once more. This time he’s able to actually hold her back, tight as possible as he rubs his hand over her back.

She smells like home, clean laundry and happiness. She’s soft and warm, he holds her perfectly against his chest, like she was a missing puzzle piece that someone finally found under the table, she fits into his life like she was supposed to be there.

She kisses his cheek softly before she pulls back, causing him to pull her into a real kiss on impulse. Connecting their lips as she sighs into the contact, melting into his grasp as she kisses him back.

Her lips are soft, fitting between his own gently as she breathes him in. Her hands reach up to grip his cheeks, kissing him again and again, placing pecks to his lips and cheeks with her eyes closed as he giggles.

“Thank you,” she whispers against his lips, “for everything.”

“I’d do anything for you,” he whispers back, kissing her one last time before she pulls away.

“I was actually about to smoke some weed on the fire escape and probably cry some more,” she laughs lightly. “would you like to join me?”

“I’ll stick with a bowl of ice cream,” he smiled awkwardly.

“Nice one,” she laughs as she opens the ice cream.

“What?”

“Oh, you didn’t even get the reference you made,” she laughs lightly, “to get high you smoke a bowl, so…”

It makes him smile, “I'm a comedian part-time.”

He makes her laugh again, loving the sound of her giggle replacing the tears. “Why aren’t you this funny at work?”

He thinks about it for a little, watching her scoop the ice cream into two bowls, “it’s a little hard to make jokes when people's lives are on the line, I know everyone else does but I get too focused.”

“They probably wouldn’t appreciate your jokes even if you did make them,” she says as she handed him a bowl with a spoon. “They’re kind of mean to you, in a family way but it still sucks sometimes to overhear.”

She walks into the living area then, grabbing a few blankets and opening the window to the fire escape. Crawling out to sit on the ledge, waiting for him.

“I don’t mind it,” he says as he finally sits down beside her.

She places the blanket over their laps, both of them sitting criss-cross applesauce as they ate.

“Do you like your job?” She asks him, just like he once asked her.

“Most of the time,” he nodded as he got brain freeze. The cold air, the cold ice cream, everything that was catching up to him as he scrunched his face up at the feeling.

She laughs at him only a bit before she’s also attacked by the brain freeze, holding the vein in her neck as she chokes out another laugh, trying to warm up the blood going to her head so the pain would stop.

They’re both just a mess of giggles together, unable to say any words as they let it all out. She leans her head on his shoulder lightly as they calm down to just soft chuckles. He presses his cheek against her head.

“Thank you, Spencer,” it sounds like she’s crying a bit. “My grandma was a lovely woman, she’d be glad I’m laughing right now.”

He reached out a hand for her to hold over the blanket. She interlocked their fingers softly, both cold from holding their ice cream bowls.

“If she was anything like you, I’m sure she was the most wonderful woman,” he says softly, not intending to make her cry but having a feeling he might.

“Would you be interested in holding me on the couch while I cry?” She asked softly, tears in her eyes as she looked up at him.

“Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

—

He’s late for work the next morning.

Waking up to the smell of coffee, opening his eyes to a strange view. He’s on a couch he doesn’t recognize in a room he doesn’t know too well.

Then he remembers, they ended up cuddled up on the couch. He wakes up to the memory of her on his chest, crying softly as they listened to some music, he ran his hand over her back while she went through it all, blessed to have his support.

He fell asleep under her at some point, waking up alone with a blanket laid over him. He sat up to see her in the kitchen, pouring coffee into a travel mug.

“Good, you’re awake,” she smiles at him. “Coffee is ready, I uh, I have this button-up shirt from a guy friend, if you wanted to wear that to work today? So they don’t think you stayed here?”

“That’s smart,” he replies as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes.

Getting up, he uses the bathroom, changes and takes that coffee from her. He’s not expecting her to kiss him on the lips at the door, but she sends him off to work like an old housewife.

He doesn’t want to pull away from her, keeping her pressed against him as he leans in for 4 more kisses before she finally pushes him out into the hallway with a laugh, “get to work!”

“Fine,” he sighs, “are you going to be in tonight?”

“Yeah,” she smiles, “funeral is in West Virginia next week, so I’ll be in until then.”

“I’ll see you later?”

She nods slightly with a soft smile, “you’ll be seeing a lot of me soon, Spencer.”

“Good,” he winks at her before heading down the hallway and towards the street entrance.

He sighs as he walks outside, resting his back against the apartment complex door, taking a moment to think about everything that just happened, the night of company and the wonderful send-off.

It was something he could get used to.

He rushes into the briefing room when he arrives at Quantico, sitting down with his coffee and pretending he wasn’t late. Listening carefully to JJ’s presentation of the case as he flips through everything he missed already.

“Wheels up in 30,” he heard Hotch say as he zoned back in. “Nice of you to join us, Reid.”

“I know that travel mug from somewhere,” Derek said as he stared at Spencer, who was taking a sip to avoid the awkwardness.

“Hmm?” He played dumb.

“That’s Y/N’s. She washes it every morning when she leaves to go home, I see her do it every morning,” his eyes open wide. “Holy shit.”

“Isn’t that the same tie and slacks from yesterday?” Emily teased him as well.

“Her grandma died, I brought her ice cream and slept on the couch okay?” He all but yelled, flailing his arms slightly so they’d all back off.

Derek reached his fist out for him to pound it, “good man.”

Then Penelope noticed the bracelet, “did she get you that?”

He sunk his hand into his pocket then, “no.”

“What?” Emily and JJ asked in unison, straining their necks to try and get a good look at what she was talking about.

He nervously held his arm out for them, showing them the purple bracelet resting over the sleeve of his shirt. “I got one for her too, it’s for healing and peace. It’s what she needs right now.”

“Oh, so you love her,” Derek smiles as he teases him. Making everyone else in the room swoon slightly.

“Okay and?”

“Oh my god!” Most of them shout at him, embarrassing him to no end. He was so glad she wasn’t at work this morning or else she would be able to hear this from her desk.

“Did you kiss her?” Rossi pries, asking what everyone else was thinking.

He scrunches his face, pushing his glasses up slightly as he clears his throat, “a few times.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” JJ kept the questions coming.

“Not yet,” he said softly. “Kinda weird to walk into her apartment while she cries to say ‘hey sorry about the death in your family, want to date me?’”

“Yeah,” Emily agrees, shrugging lightly. “At least she knows you like her now, it’s been what? 2 years?”

“2 years, 3 months, 17 days and 43 minutes,” he confirms with a small nod and pressed lips.

“Gross,” Derek teases him.

“The plane is leaving in 10 minutes,” Hotch cut into their fun.

Making them all gather their things and continue the interrogation in the elevator, and eventually on the plane, and in the police precinct. Even Penelope called him in the middle of everything to bug him about her.

The questions were never-ending, everyone wanted to know how they even started talking, who made the first move, how he plans to ask her out. They were relentless, he almost regretted admitting to anything.

They bug him all throughout the day, all the way until they’re arriving back at the BAU late that same night. He almost doesn’t want to go back to the bullpen and see her with all of them, knowing they were going to follow and say something.

She’s waiting in the hall when the elevator doors open, a pressed-lipped smile on her face, “bad news.”

“Another one?” Hotch sighs, “have Garcia send us the info. Be at the table in 10.” He pushes his way out of the elevator, passed them all as they stare at Y/N.

“Hi?” She awkwardly waves at them all, showing off the bracelet on her wrist.

“See ya, Spence,” JJ and Emily say as they matt his shoulder, dragging Derek and Rossi towards the bullpen doors.

“Sorry,” he apologizes for them softly, stepping into her space.

She wraps him up in a quick hug, keeping one arm around his waist as she guides him towards the bullpen, “it’s fine, they’re going to have to get used to us being together.”

“Together?” He repeats her words.

“I only cry on my boyfriend's shoulders, if you're up for the title?” She teases him softly, pinching his side as they walk towards the doors.

“Can I frame “Dr. Spencer Reid, Y/N’s boyfriend” beside my Ph.D.’s?” He keeps his hand on her shoulder, holding each other slightly as they walk towards her desk. He felt like one of those kids who wouldn’t let go of their girlfriend's hand in the school hallway, attached to her at the hip.

“I’ll make one for you while you’re gone,” she laughs lightly.

They stop at her desk where he sees all rocks he got her collecting on the shelf, as well as a cup of coffee and his favourite kind of donut.

“Thought you deserved something nice too,” she says as she nudges his side.

He kisses her on the cheek as a thank you, “you’re welcome,” she smiles to herself. A feeling of pride growing in both their chests.

“See you later?” He asks as he picks up the coffee and donut, walking away slowly as she smiles at him.

“Come home to me safely, Doctor Reid,” her voice is just loud enough for everyone in the briefing room, where everyone is waiting at the window, watching them, deciding to put on a show in return.

He stops on the steps to look at her softly, “I’d fight a thousand unsubs to come home to you.”

“I’ll leave the light on,” she blows a kiss at him, making him blush a deep red.

He waves, making his way up the steps and into the briefing room. A smile on his face, heart thumping in his chest, all the support in the world swarming around him as everyone patted him on the back.

That tiger’s eye really did bring him good luck and happiness, and her name was Y/N.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #one shot #fluff

[shoutaaizawas]

↳ keigo takami x fem!reader → ❝shiny things❞

summary: hawks has more bird-like tendencies than you initially thought. he likes to present you with odd items as gifts and finally you figure out why word count: 2,406 tags/warnings: fluff, hawks being a bird a/n: uhh i don’t know i love the bird man

sequel “preening”

masterlist

Dating Hawks was unusual for a list of reasons. He was a pro hero so that meant he was very busy, in the public eye, and couldn’t tell you everything. Then there was the way Hawks had been raised. After a while of dating, he trusted you enough to open up and tell you about his childhood. It shed a lot of light on the things he did in your relationship. But perhaps the least expected thing was his bird-like habits.

It wasn’t unusual for people with animal-like quirks the show similar traits to said animal. Selkie and Gang Orca came to mind although they looked more like their animal counterparts than Hawks did. Perhaps that was why you didn’t expect it from him.

At first, you thought he was joking. You had been dating for a while enough to know each other well enough to start to develop feelings. Hawks flew in to meet you for a coffee date in between work. The wind-blown hair and charming smile always made your heart skip a beat.

“Look what I found.” He said, his tone of voice sounded like an excited kid. He held out his hand present the shiny blue marble. You glanced up at him wondering if he was joking but he looked happy to present this offering. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt his feelings even if you didn’t quite understand.

“Wow, where’d you find this?” You asked taking it and holding it up in the light to examine it.

“I found it on patrol.” He said. “It was shining in the light and caught my eye. Don’t worry I washed it off.” He reassured. That almost made you laugh.

“It’s pretty.” You said. That wasn’t a lie, in its own way it was pretty but you could honestly say you had never met someone over the age of ten present a marble with such excitement.

“It’s for you.” He said with a smile that melted your heart. The sentiment wasn’t lost on you even if you were trying to wrap your head around it.

“Thank you, you’re too sweet.” You told him before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

The next time that happened you were more prepared for it. It was a perfect day, the sky was clear, and the weather cool. The salty breeze from the ocean filled the air around you as you walked hand in hand with your boyfriend. The sun was sinking into the horizon leaving a beautiful sunset.

Hawks spotted something, his eyes widening as he let go of your hand and rushed forward. He leaned down picking up something from the ground. Brushing it off he stood and returned to your side.

“Look!” He said in an excited voice holding his open hand up to you. You smiled at the way his wings fluttered in excitement behind him.

“What is it?” You asked putting one hand underneath his as you looked. There was a small shiny green object, it almost looked like a rock.

“It’s a piece of sea glass! It’s normal glass that ends up in the ocean, it takes like fifty years of tumbling around in the water to look like this.” He said. Looking at it, it was pretty. The frosted texture was unique you realized as you picked it up. He closed your hand over it. “Keep it.” He smiled.

You smiled at him sliding the sea glass in your pocket for safekeeping. This wasn’t the last time that he gave you an odd gift with a genuine spirit. You always smiled when he presented the items with pride and excitement, his feathers puffed up.

It was a night that you were spending with Hawks at his fancy apartment when things started to make more sense. You had made him dinner and were enjoying a bottle of wine now.

Hawks wasn’t a drinker but since you met him you had gotten him to like wine. It wasn’t unusual for you to share a bottle. It always amused you the pink tint on his cheeks and how relaxed he got.

The view from Hawks balcony was nice, a perfect city skyline. The love seat there was comfy and so was your position resting against Hawks, one of his winds draped around you keeping you close and protecting you from the cold night. The candles lit around you gave off a dim glow.

You looked at your empty glass and his. As much as you didn’t want to get up you did want more wine so you would have to sacrifice your comfort for a moment.

“Let me get you more.” You said taking his glass in your hand before standing up. He made a noise of complaint at the loss of contact.

“I can get it.” He said. You leaned forward pressing a kiss against his lips, your free hand grazing his cheek.

“Let me, relax here. I’ll be right back.” You said before walking into the apartment. You entered his nice kitchen grabbing the bottle on the counter. There was enough for one glass. You looked at the full bottle on the counter. It wouldn’t hurt to open up another, you could always save the rest if you didn’t finish it.

Opening a drawer you looked for the wine opener. This one had normal utensils in it. The one below it had towels. It was the third drawer down that was odd.

It was full of random items, rocks, stray earrings, buttons, and other odds and ends. It wasn’t your usual junk drawer. All of the items had a certain shine to them. Your mind was immediately pulled to the random things Hawks had presented to you so happily.

You let out a small gasp as it all clicked. He was a bird. Well, not literally but it seemed he shared more traits with the animal than you had originally guessed. Looking at all the items you knew that he cared for them enough to keep them in his house.

A smile met your lips thinking about how excited he always was as he handed you the shiny thing he had found. It was so sweet that he gave them to you instead of keeping it for his own collection. Had he even been keeping anything for himself since he met you?

Your heart felt full as you closed the drawer and looked for the wine opener. Hawks was already so sweet and somehow this odd quirk of his added on to it.

Returning to the balcony you sat down next to him handing him his glass before pulling him in for a deep kiss. Your free hand tangled in his feathers and you could feel him sigh against your lips.

“What was that for?” He questioned pulling back with pink cheeks and a content smirk.

“Nothing, I just really like you.” You smiled.

“Well, I really like you too.” He said before pulling you in for another kiss.

“So I gave her this shiny rock and she was so happy, I love the way she smiles when I give her stuff.” Hawks gushed about you to Mirko often. The rabbit hero was patient in listening to him but would often roll her eyes at how head over heels he was.

“Wait, so you’re telling me the kind of gifts you’ve been giving her are shiny rocks and marbles?” She questioned. “Please don’t tell me you’ve stolen french fries from tourists to give to her.” Hawks gave her a questioning look.

“I always give her the shiny stuff I find now.” He said.

“And she hasn’t dumped you?” She questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Wow, she must really like like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“A lot of girls like shiny things but they usually prefer bracelets, necklaces, rings, or even cars if you’re really trying to spoiler her. Maybe a designer pair of shoes or a purse.” She said thoughtfully. “Most girls would have left by now if they were given shiny debris from their boyfriend.”

Hawks stood there frozen trying to process what she was saying.

“Trust me, I get it, Hawks. The animal tendencies can be strong but you have to recognize them and adjust. Find a way to fill that urge but in a way that your partner will appreciate more.”

“I didn’t even realize it.” Hawks said in a quiet voice. “Oh no she’s probably hated all the stuff I’ve been giving her and has just been nice to me.” He groaned.

Mirko patted him on the shoulder.

“Happens to the best of us. I nibbled on my first crushes sleeve. There are some things you’ll never forget how embarrassing they were.” She sighed, staring off in her memory.

“That’s rough.” Hawks said. “I’m just glad you told me before she got too weirded out. I really like her, I don’t want to ruin it with her.”

“That’s what friends are for to help you with your blind spots.” She explained. “And Hawks, if she stuck around this long I don’t think you’re scaring her off with shiny marbles.” She teased.

Hawks felt so embarrassed. He had no relationship experience. His childhood had not been a normal one, he didn’t go to middle school or high school. He didn’t go on awkward dates or take someone to prom. It was uncharted territory. He never even intended on dating anyone his life was too complicated then he met you and every excuse he had to date someone was out the window.

He had to make it up to you, he had to explain himself but he was trying to figure out the best way to do that. He recalled you telling him a story about earrings that you had really wanted to buy once at a boutique on vacation but you had ended up not buying them for one reason or another. He had made note of that hoping to look for one similar to what you described but hadn’t gotten around to it.

Now was finally his time, surprisingly it wasn’t that hard to find something that matched your description. He hoped it was close enough for you. Hawks texted you asking if he could come over tonight when you were home and you agreed.

After patrol, he picked up your favorite take out and headed over to your place. He landed on the balcony walking in as you told him he could. You sat on the couch wearing a cute pair of sweatpants and a sweater.

“Hey, babe.” You said standing up and walking over to him, greeting him with a kiss.

“Hey, little bird.” He said returning the kiss.

“Is that what I think it is?” You questioned.

“Your favorite.” He smiled. The two of you sat down at the couch opening up the bag of food and digging in.

“What’s the special occasion?” You asked as you finished up your food.

“I wanted to talk.” He answered, immediately he saw you face drop. “Nothing bad, I promise.”

“Oh.” You sighed in relief.

“Actually I wanted to apologize.” He started, his wings looked tense.

“For what?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“The gifts I’ve given you, my friend pointed out that they’re weird and not something you should give your girlfriend.

“Hawks-” You tried to interrupt but he continued.

“I’m sorry, it’s just something I’ve done since I was a kid. I see something shiny and I take it, I’ve had a collection forever and I don’t know I never questioned it until Mirko pointed it out. I just would always get so excited when I saw stuff I kept it. When I started dating you I’d see something and I would think this is so pretty I have to share it with her, I don’t want to keep it to myself-”

“Hawks.” You said taking his hand in yours. “Don’t apologize. Look.”

He watched as you leaned to your coffee table grabbing the small box on it and setting it in between the two of you. Opening it he realized it was full of all the things he had given you.

“I’ll admit I was a little confused at first but even then I saw how happy you were and it was so cute. How could I deny or be upset about you giving me something that made you so happy.” You explained, brushing your hand over the piece of sea glass he gave you. “Eventually I figured it out, I saw the drawer at your place and I put it together. Honestly, the fact that you gave me these means far more than expensive jewelry would mean to me.”

Hawks stared at you in disbelief. How had he ever found someone as amazing as you? He fought the tears that threatened to well up in his eyes. You had understood him without him ever having to explain.

“Actually, I just remembered.” You said standing up and moving to your purse by the door. You looked through it for a moment before finding what you were looking for. Sitting down you held your hand out presenting a shiny vintage key. “I saw this today at a little store I stopped at on my break. I don’t know if it will fit into your collection but-”

Before you could even finish your sentence Hawks had nearly tackled you into a kiss. His arms wrapped around you pulling you close as his wings fluttered. He pulled back looking into your eyes.

“I love you.” The words came out before he could stop them. He already felt so much for you but this had pushed it over the edge.

“Keigo, I-I love you too.” You returned not expecting anything that had just happened.

“I got you a gift, a proper gift this time.” He said reaching into his pocket. “The earrings you talked about, I hope they are close enough to the ones you wanted.”

“Keigo, they’re perfect.” You said pulling him in for another kiss. “Thank you.”

Hawks was more than just a pretty face and you had seen through that. Getting to know him, the real him, not the person the media presented or the child that had been raised into a weapon, was something you had enjoyed. Not only did you get to know the real Hawks but you had fallen deeply in love with him, bird traits, and all.

taglist:  @sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bakugousidehoe @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @ourladyofseijoh  @x0doodlebug0x @katsushimaa @mooncademia

#hawks x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader #bnha #mha #hawks #keigo takami #my writing #had to repost because it didnt go in the tags smh

[imagine-darksiders]

A gentle touch.

[Strife/Reader]

Summary: Set three years after humanity is resurrected. Strife shows up unannounced in your bedroom in the middle of the night, which would have been rude enough without him getting blood all over your cream-coloured carpet.

Tags: Blood, injury, PTSD, knife, protective Strife, whump, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, sharing a bed ;), bandages and cleaning wounds, how not to administer first aid.

-----

You have the apocalypse to thank for turning you into such a light-sleeper. 

Even though the nights of sleeping with one eye open are far behind you and Earth is back on the road to a long and arduous recovery, you'll still jolt awake if your unconscious mind hears something scuttle beneath the floorboards of your freshly-restored home, and God forbid a tree branch should happen to scratch at the bedroom window...

Waking up with the feeling that your heart is three beats from bursting right out of your chest is exhausting, to say the least. And it isn't just you who suffers from the onset of hyper-vigilance.

It was a decidedly cruel consequence that the resurrected humans were able to recall their lives before the end of the world. Crueller still, they woke up to remember exactly how and where they eventually kicked the bucket, and of course, nobody knew that a significant chunk of time had passed at all since the end of the world and its rebirth.

They thought they were still in danger.

In one moment, all they knew was immense and excruciating pain, and then, in what seemed like the blink of an eye, they woke up again, screaming and writhing in the echoes of phantom pain that had occurred almost a century ago.

Three years down the line since ‘The Great Waking,’ and there isn’t a human alive who could claim that they’ve slept through an uninterrupted night.

------

The alarm clock on your bedside table has just ticked over to read '2:36am' when your eyes suddenly snap open and you fling yourself upright in bed, your spine ramrod straight and your ears ringing with a sharp, tinny note.

It isn’t a nightmare that wakes you. At least, not this time.

Worse.

It’s a sound.

An out-of-the-ordinary sound that isn't in keeping with the normal ambiance of your bedroom.

But where...? 

....It's coming from your window.

Tired eyes swivel to the curtains whilst your hand immediately flies out to blindly fumble with the drawer of your bedside table. Once your fingers find the cold, metal handle, you rip it open and plunge your hand inside, rummaging around until you feel the reassuring grip of your most precious possession.

Your trusty bread knife. Serrated edge, nine inch blade, perfect for cutting slices of toast in the morning and for tearing through the toughened hide of a hungry demon.

Peace between the Universe’s species had been declared once humanity was fully introduced to the connected realms, a decision that suited a vast majority of Creation. Hell, however, had offered up a fair amount of opposition to the notion before eventually conceding and agreeing – albeit begrudgingly – to honour the peace treaty alongside angels, makers, undead and the rest.

Even demon-kind knew not to incur the wrath of humanity's strongest and most ferocious protectors, the Horsemen.

But... there are always exceptions to the rule. Some demons just... hadn't gotten the memo.

It wouldn’t be the first time one of them had tried to make an assassination attempt on humanity’s envoy.

Heart in your throat, you grasp the knife securely in your dominant hand and peer through the darkness towards the window. 

Only a sliver of moonlight peeps through a tiny gap in the curtains. In another blink, the light suddenly disappears, and you know better than to assume that the moon has simply ducked behind a cloud. 

Something is standing at your window, blocking out the light.

You think you might actually be sick when you hear the sound again, claws scraping on wood – a sound you know all too well – well enough to send your head spinning into a panic.

Swallowing back the nausea in your throat, you brace yourself, instincts flicking between running for the door and knowing never to turn your back on a demon.

Sadly, the decision is swiftly taken out of your hands. Through the darkness and the deafening roar of blood rushing through your ears, you can make out the distinct sound of your window sliding slowly open.

The knife is a comforting weight in your hand. But it’s less than useless if you don’t calm down and try to remember the lessons that Death has taught you. If the eldest Horseman were here, he’d probably have berated you seven ways to Sunday by now for freezing up and missing an opportunity to better prepare yourself for an attack.

A dark silhouette pushes the fluttering fabric of your curtains aside and pulls itself halfway into your bedroom. 

Whatever it is, it’s big.

Breath catching in your throat, you clasp a handful of your duvet and get ready to fling it at the intruder as a distraction, hoping that it’ll be enough to buy you a precious few seconds to gain the upper hand. You've learned that humans are inherently weaker than demons, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned from Death, it’s that strength isn’t necessarily the deciding factor in any battle. You still have your wits. You only hope the demon has less.

Two luminous, golden eyes turn in your direction and you press yourself backwards into the headboard.

Several seconds drag by in perfect silence.

Then... 

“Hey.”

And just like, that tension leaves your body like a balloon deflating of air and you heave the loudest sigh you can muster, dropping the bread knife into your lap.

“Damn it, Strife! You about gave me a heart attack!”

With a 'whump,' you flop back against your pillows and take a second to breathe whilst one of the Four Horsemen drags himself the rest of the way through your bedroom window.

Strife.

It's only Strife...

Whilst certainly a dangerous being in his own right, you know you have nothing to fear from the Horseman who had all but appointed himself as your friend three, long years ago, all in an attempt to irritate his brother, Death, of course.

At least, at first.

Death was the one who pulled you from the dying Earth and preserved your life-force as you journeyed together on a quest to resurrect humanity, but after he made the jump to introduce you to his 'little' siblings, it had been Strife who'd taken a particular shine to you, and it had everything to do with a compatible, if terrible sense of humour.

That first meeting sparked what was sure to be an interesting friendship between the pair of you.

-----

“So, my brother went and got himself a human, huh?” Strife had teased, pointedly ignoring the withering look he received from Death to add, “Gotta say, I'm impressed, Kid. Didn't think anyone would have the inclination to willingly travel with my brother. But then, I guess...” He trailed off and you could almost see the smirk growing under his mask. “Deathperate times and all that, huh?”

At once, his siblings all groaned out varying noises of disapproval. Fury, the loudest, cocked her hip and shot Strife a frosty glower. “You are singlehandedly ruining our reputation, brother."

“She's right, you know,” you spoke up, trying not to flinch when all eyes snapped onto you once more, “That pun was pretty deadful.”

The brief, startled second of silence was soon blasted apart when Strife threw his head back and barked out a triumphant laugh, while Death slowly turned to look at you, utterly betrayed.

“Ha!” Strife's eyes positively gleamed with mischief, “You're right, human. Guess I should'a considered the reapercussions of a joke like that, huh?”

“I ought to have known introducing you two would be a mistake,” the eldest Horseman grumbled, earning a sympathetic look from War.

“Sorry, Death,” you said with a perfectly straight face, “You want us to get out of your scythe so you don’t have to look at us anymore?”

Strife had howled.

Death, however, merely heaved a long-suffering sigh. Fury's eyes all but rolled into the back of her skull and War just stood there, struggling to keep his lips from twitching at their corners.

And you had looked around at all of them, a little proud and blissfully unaware of what you'd just unwittingly signed yourself up for.

You'd had Strife's attention from that day on.

-----

Shaking off the fond memory, you tiredly will your mind back to the matter at hand.

You reach across your bed and drop the knife back into the drawer before leaning down and skirting your fingers over the wall in search of a switch. The next moment, there's a 'click!' and the room is illuminated by clustered fairy lights that you've draped around your ceiling, forcing you to squint blearily against the intrusion of light as Strife hauls his leg into your room.

“Honestly. How many times have I told you to use the door?”

“S'locked,” he grunts.

You're in the midst of rubbing your eyes to try and stimulate a little life back into your bones, so you miss the way he stumbles a few steps away from the wall and presses a gauntleted hand to his abdomen. 

“Yeah, it’s locked because it's-” You take a quick glance at the clock next to you. “-Two thirty in the morning! Strife, I’m supposed to be up at six to meet Ulthane! What do you need so badly that you'd-... Hey.. Are.. are you okay?”

At last taking a long, hard look, it suddenly occurs to you that the Horseman is... not entirely himself.

He's hunched over, his shoulders pulled in around his neck and his chest rising and falling in long, languid motions. The tattered cowl he wears around his neck hangs loose around his collarbones and it faces the very real threat of slipping off to the floor. At last, your eyes drop to the hand that's clamped over the left side of his abdomen and you blurt out a startled gasp.

In the paltry, pink glow of your fairy lights, you spot an unmistakably crimson liquid dribbling between his fingers, starkly contrasted against the steel-grey colour of his armour.

The next few seconds pass in a blur as you frantically begin kicking off your duvet and scramble out of bed, flying across the room to the Horseman's side.

“Strife! What'd you do!?”

“Oh, that's real sweet,” the Nephilim chuckles wryly whilst he collapses back against the wall and slides down it with a strained grunt, “Why're you – ung... assuming it's something I did?”

Without missing a beat, you snap, “This would hardly be the first time you got hurt because you're a wise-cracking jokester with a big mouth! Now tell me who you pissed off?!”

You drop onto your knees next to him and reach out, fingers hovering tentatively above his stomach. With your focus directed away from his helm, Strife doesn’t bother to hide the way his eyes dart from left to right before they settle back on the top of your head.

“Ah, it was... just some demon, caught me slackin', that's all,” he shrugs, letting you carefully grasp his wrist and lift it away from his torso.

At once, fresh blood gushes from a deep gouge cut into in the dark, leather under-skin he wears beneath his cuirass and you yelp, slapping a hand over your mouth in abject horror.

The sound draws Strife's gaze to you and once he spots the shocked despair on your face, he gives himself a mental kick.

He hadn't meant to... He... doesn't like it when you’re scared because of him.

"Hey, no, no – I'm okay!” he rushes to reassure you, “Don't worry about this. I've had worse!”

“That's not the point, Strife!” you argue, dropping his wrist and carding your hands through your hair, “You're hurt now! And I don't – there's so much blood, and you-” Cutting yourself off, you squeeze your eyes shut and inhale deeply through your nose, willing your pulse to ease so that you can rationally address this situation. 

Another lesson Death had taught you - stay calm in a crisis. Panic kills.

Releasing a long, hard breath, you peel your eyes open again and nod, jaw set. “Okay. All right. I need to.. I need water. A-and I need to see the wound.”

The interrogation can come after you've dealt with... this.

“There's a bowl and flannel in my bathroom,” you announce, getting to your unsteady feet and gesturing towards Strife's cuirass, “Think you can get that off so I can have a look?”

Huffing out a breath of laughter, the Horseman winks at you suggestively and drawls, “An' here I was doin' things the hard way to get your attention. You know, you didn't have to wait till I got myself gutted before you asked me to take my armour off in your chambers.”

A wise-cracking flirt with a big mouth.

As exasperating as he is though, you don't mind it in the slightest.

This is your usual rapport, after all. A friendly back and forth interlaced with the occasional, flirtatious comment. At first, Strife had only initiated it because it drove an over-protective Death up the wall. The eldest Horseman had almost threatened to 'remove Strife's libido' until you'd up and flirted right back, distressing the old reaper even further.

It's funny. It's innocent. But right now, it's reassuring, if only somewhat, that Strife is behaving just like his shameless, old self.

Besides, you can give back as much as you get.

“Well, I had to wait for a good enough excuse,” you retort, “Couldn't come on too strong and risk scaring you off, now could I?”

In response, Strife just chuckles fondly and watches you turn and speed away to your ensuite, oblivious to the warm, soft glow radiating from his eyes.

In less than a minute, you're briskly striding back into the room, a dripping flannel in one hand and a bowl in the other, and he suddenly remembers that you'd asked him to remove his cuirass.

Mission failed.

But you don't even bat an eyelid to find it still in place, assuming that the Horseman can't get at the catches on the sides in his current state. 

In one, smooth motion, you drop down beside him once more and set the cloth and bowl nearby. “Here, let me help..”

The Horseman's pulse sputters when your tiny fingers reach around his torso and fumble with the buckles and straps that keep his armour securely in place. It doesn't pass his notice that your hands are trembling.

“Hey,” he calls, catching your eye for a moment before you go right back to fiddling with the cuirass, “This is nothin’, you know that, right?”

You only press your lips together and hum, clearly skeptical.

You're working fast and in almost no time at all, the straps have been released and you carefully take the Nephilim's broad shoulder, giving it a tug, guiding him to lean away from the walls so that you can start to peel the bulky armour off.

“Nng, hang on,” he mutters.

Reluctantly, you sit back to let him tug his chest piece loose before he simply drops it onto the carpet next to his legs with a dull 'clang.'

Exposed to the soft glow of your lights, your eyes are instantly drawn to the gaping wound that stretches in a horizontal line across the left side of his abdomen. It seems that something really has tried - and nearly succeeded - to gut him. Several inches long and goodness knows how deep, even against the iron-grey colour of his skin, the gash is alarmingly obvious and the blood far, far too noticeable for your liking. It still comes as something of a shock to learn that the Horsemen, barring Death, can actually bleed.

Wordlessly, you pick up the flannel and wring it out into the bowl of water, wondering if he'll mind that you didn't wait for the tap to get warm before you soaked it. It shouldn't surprise you that the Horseman doesn't protest or even flinch when you gently press the wet cloth to the bloodied skin around his wound, nowhere near the gash itself, not until you've cleared away some of the mess around it and determined its real depth.

You don't notice that his eyelids flutter closed once you press the cloth to his skin, nor do you see when their golden light fluctuates in contentment as the fingertips of your other hand press gently to his stomach, the pressure barely enough for him to feel, but enough to keep you steady whilst you daub at his drying blood.

It takes a formidable effort to suppress the shudder that nearly races up his spine. This is the first time he's felt your skin against his without a single piece of armour standing between you.

Creator, you're so soft! Just like he always imagined you would be.

“Jeezus, Strife,” you whistle, abruptly snatching his focus away from the soothing strokes of your silky fingers,“You've made a real mess of yourself. Why on Earth didn't you just go straight to Death? I thought he was the best healer in your family.”

The warm skin underneath your fingertips jumps as the Horseman puffs out a quick laugh, gazing dopily at your temple whilst you wipe at the edges of his wound with small, careful touches. 

“He is,” Strife readily agrees, “But the moody bastard wouldn't be nearly as gentle with me as you are.”

You blow an unimpressed huff from your nose and glance up at him in time to catch his lazy wink. “I can always press harder if you like?”

“Nah.” The Horseman settles himself more heavily against the wall, knocking his skull back against it and mumbling, “Just keep touchin' me all gentle like that. S'nice...”

Quite abruptly, the chatty Nephilim goes silent and the glow from his eyes that had illuminated your face only moments ago suddenly disappears.

“Strife?”

He doesn't respond.

“Hey, Cowboy! Don't you fall asleep on me, you hear?”

There's a long stretch of silence, then, “Won't,” he mumbles, cracking one eyelid open to peer down at you.

Harrumphing, you promptly turn back to the gash in his stomach and wipe the last of the dried blood off his skin, still far from clean, but at the very least, better than it had been.

“Right,” you declare, pulling away to stand up and drawing a decidedly petulant whine from the Horseman on your bedroom floor. “I'm gonna go get the first aid kit from downstairs.”

There’s a shift in his expression and something that hinges on alarm suddenly whistles through his blood.

“I won’t be long,” you promise, "Be right – Hey, woah! What're you doing!?”

Darting forwards, you hastily place your hands on each of Strife's broad shoulders, trying to push him back down as he grabs the window sill behind him and begins hauling himself up to his feet.

“What's it look like ‘m doing?” he answers gruffly, slouching forwards as if the weight of his own head is too much to keep aloft, “Comin’ with you”

Sputtering out a few, incredulous noises, you try to make him see sense. “I’ll bring the first aid kit to you! You need to rest! It's bad enough that you already climbed in through my second storey window!”

But Strife, stubborn as a mule and much, much stronger than you, isn't deterred by your protests. Grunting, he curls one arm over his stomach and takes a step forwards, ducking beneath your light fixture and standing to his full, imposing height.

Even with three years of companionship behind you, you’re still frequently taken aback at how effortlessly the Horseman can make you feel small and fragile when you stand close to him.

Knowing full well that you’ll never be able to force him down again, you allow your hands to slip from his shoulders and fall against your sides like lead weights. You aren’t sure why he’s suddenly so hellbent on following you, downstairs, of all places, but you don’t dwell on it, especially given that you’re far more preoccupied with the fresh blood that has already begun trickling out of his wound to replace the stains you’ve painstakingly cleaned away.

Puffing out your cheeks, you raise a hand and pinch the bridge of your nose. “Strife, please sit down?” You aren’t so proud that you won’t resort to begging, tired as you are and exasperated with his obstinate behaviour. “I’m worried about you...”

All at once, the Horseman stiffens. ‘Oh, now she’s fighting dirty,’ he muses to himself.

Gradually, you lift your eyes to meet his and try your very best to glare up at him, pinning him down with all the stern authority you can muster. For several, slow heartbeats, the Nephilim peers right back at you and you’re almost certain that you’ll lose this battle of wills, which is why it comes as such a shock when his fiery gaze falters, wavering slightly before it promptly drops to the floor near your feet.

It's... rare for Strife to be looked at by someone who isn't ashamed to show that they worry about him.

But the way you're looking at him now? Hell, the way you've been looking at him since he clambered through your bedroom window? You're practically broadcasting your concern.

Strife just... isn't used to seeing that. So he glances down instead, finding the fibres of your carpet particularly exhilarating tonight. Slowly, begrudgingly, he sinks down to sit on the edge of your bed, heavy enough that the frame creaks and groans under the weight of a fully grown Nephilim and he has to hold back a contented sigh at the softness beneath his legs.

From the corner of an eye, he can see that your jaw is hanging ajar and remains so until you give yourself a little shake and throw him a satisfied nod. “Thank you,” you huff before turning on your heel and striding purposefully from the room.

Strife listens raptly to your footsteps disappearing down the staircase, unaware that his hands have curled into tight fists around your duvet.

'It's fine,' he assuages the insistent voice at the back of his head, 'She's fine.'

He took care of the threat. That demon asshole isn't coming after his friend.

You’re only downstairs. He can already hear you pushing open the door to your little kitchen whilst the rest of his senses remain trained on the sounds and smells of the night.

It isn't as though something bad might happen just because his eyes aren't fixed upon you...

Frankly, he thinks he’s being more than generous to allow a full, Earth minute to pass as he taps his heel impatiently against the side of your bed.

Didn’t you say you’d be right back?

...

“Fuck it...”

-------

Perhaps, in hindsight, keeping your first aid kit on the top of the fridge hadn’t been one of your brightest ideas, given that you need a chair to reach it. Then again, securing immediate access to bandages and plasters hadn’t exactly been on the forefront of your mind when you were rebuilding your old home from the ruins it had been left in.

With a grunt, you drop your rickety kitchen chair next to the fridge and clamber up onto the seat. “I have got to find a better place for you,” you grumble at an apathetic first aid kit that sits gathering dust near the wall. Stretching your arm out, you manage to snag it by the handle and drag it towards you-

“The hell're you doing!?”

The violent jolt that shoots through you like lightening nearly sends you toppling off the chair. You let out a yelp, just barely catching yourself on the fridge with your free hand before you whip about to see none other than Strife silhouetted in the kitchen doorway.

“Wh- the hell are you doing!?” you retort, knitting your brows into a frown and clutching the first aid kit against your heaving chest, “Why aren’t you upstairs?”

The Horseman’s glowing eyes are fixed unsettlingly on the chair beneath your feet and rather than answer the question, he ducks under the doorframe and thunders towards you in a few, short strides, leaving you with no time to protest before he suddenly sweeps you up off the chair and into his arms, caging you against a solid chest.

At once, you begin to struggle. “Strife! Your wound! Put me down, you'll hurt yourself!”

But the Nephilim is hardly paying attention. His glare lingers on the flimsy, wooden chair legs for a moment before he flicks his gaze towards the large window above your sink, noting with no small degree of distaste that it isn't even shut.

It’s like you’re inviting danger in.

If you had any idea of the fate he and his siblings are currently trying to protect you from, you might just try a little harder to take better care of yourself.

“Hey!” you continue to protest against his hold but manage to refrain from jostling about too much, mindful of his injury. “For god's sake! What's gotten into you?!”

He offers little more than a noncommittal grunt in response and begins trailing back towards the staircase, casting brief glances at the french doors leading out onto your patio.

'Structural weakness,' he registers, 'Perfect point of entry for anything smaller than a Trauma...'

Shaking his head, he turns sideways to fit you through the kitchen door and takes the stairs up to your room.

After a second, he lowers his eyes to meet yours and finds himself meeting a highly unimpressed scowl. “What?” he asks, the very picture of innocence.

Raising your brows, you snap, “Don't you 'what' me! The hell is all this about? I told you to stay put!”

“You were takin' too long,” he shrugs.

“Too long!?” Indignant, you flick your wrist and rap the first aid kit against his collar bone, “I was gone a minute, max! If you were so worried about me taking too long to fix you up, then why are you moving around and making your injury worse!?”

The light of Strife's golden gaze dims and he turns his head away, staring up towards the top of the stairs and your bedroom door beyond. “S'not me m' worried about,” he mumbles.

It's such an about-face from his usual demeanour that you can do little but blink dumbly up at him and fall still against his chest, your mouth hanging agape.

In silence, the Horseman ducks through the door into your room and sidles over to the bed where, hesitantly, he lowers you down until you're sitting safely on the edge.

In the next moment however, just as Strife drops heavily onto the bed next to you, you slip away and settle on the floor instead, placing the first aid kit beside his boots and fumbling with the latches.

Despite blowing out a rough grumble of disapproval that sounds entirely too much like War for his liking, he lets you go.

Chewing on your lip, you stare at the contents for a moment before snatching up a pack of antiseptic wipes, tearing one out and bringing it up to his stomach.

“You want to tell me why you just exacerbated your injury to rescue me from my kitchen chair?” you ask him, adding as an afterthought, “This might sting a bit..”

When he doesn't reply, you glance up and quirk a brow at the underside of his chin, only to catch him peering back at you from behind heavy-lidded eyes. Then, with a weary sigh, he sags forwards and raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck, looking sheepish, of all things.

Unable to dispel your frown, you blindly begin brushing the wipe underneath his bleeding wound.

He doesn't even wince.

Strife tips his helm towards the bedroom window and slumps further backwards into your mattress, seeming so entirely out of place amidst the colourful duvet cover and frilly cushions.

“Okay,” he mutters, “I uh, I got a confession to make.”

Interest piqued, you make an acknowledging sound at the back of your throat and return your attention to his abdomen.

“Death didn't want us to tell you about this,” he continues quietly whilst you toss the now ruined wipe over your shoulder and pull out a fresh one, “And, to be honest, neither did I. We didn't want you to have to worry, y'know?”

You don't know. And you nearly ask him what you should be worrying about, but you soon let your mouth fall shut and settle for humming curiously instead, trusting that he'll tell you soon enough anyway.

There's a long pause, during which you find the courage to bring your fingers close to the edges of his wound and immediately have to withhold a gag when the motion sends another spout of blood oozing from the cut and dribbling down your wrist.

After a moment, Strife huffs and forges ahead, “Course, War and Fury did want to tell you-”

He's stalling, you realise belatedly.

“-War thinks you have every right to know. And Fury said there's nothin' for you to worry about anyway, cause we've got your back.”

“Fury said that?” you ask distractedly, dropping the wipe and rummaging around for a gauze pad. In response, Strife exhales, a tiny, hidden smile creeping onto his lips. “Fury says a lot of stuff about you that you don't know about.”

Gently, you unroll the gauze and press it against his wound. “Wow, you sure that's your sister?  Sounds like she might've been body snatched.”

“Ha!” The Horseman suddenly throws his head back. “Well, if she has been replaced, I sure as shit ain't going lookin' for the original. This Fury is... she's...”

He pauses, tipping his head in thought before eventually settling on, “She's learning.”

You blow out a long, impressed whistle and he nods his agreement, adding, “Yeah, s'weird for all of us too.”

The room lapses into silence once again as you stretch the gauze across Strife's abdomen and mutter, “Hold this,” before your hands are retreating and the Horseman's slide down to keep the bandage in place.

Reaching into the box once more, you take some bandages and begin to unfurl them gingerly over the top of the gauze. “Not hurting you, am I?”

You miss the soft expression he aims at the top of your head. “Never.”

You're more than aware that he probably won't tell you you've hurt him even if you were to stick your fingers in the wound twist them.

“Sooo~....?” you prompt.

Peering down at you, Strife cocks his head to one side and echoes, “Soooo?”

“What did Fury and War think I should know?”

“Oh. Right...” His reluctance is as painfully obvious as a slap to the face but you're slightly more focused on plunging your hand back into the first aid kit and rooting around for a roll of adhesive tape.

He observes you for a moment, growing more and more certain that despite your curiosity, you aren’t actually paying a great deal of attention to his words. Quite abruptly, he asks, “You listening?”

Emitting little more than a vague hum, you finally snag the tape and run your fingernail along the smooth surface, searching for the ever-elusive end.

“You sure?” Strife grunts skeptically, “Kid, this is kind of important.”

Without missing a beat, you nod your chin towards his injury and reply, “Yeah, well, you're kind of important too, buddy.”

Oh.

Oh, that's...

Strife wracks his brain, trying to pluck an appropriate response from amidst his tumbling thoughts. Part of him wants to scoff – of course he's important! He's Strife! The best, damn marksman who ever walked the realms of existence.

But then, there's another part of him that lurks deep behind the walls of hubris and brass he's been building meticulously for centuries, and it gives a little leap at the sound of your words, delighted beyond measure.

Averting his gaze, Strife lets out a chuckle. “You're getting soft.”

“Ah, I've always been soft.”

His heart thrums. “Wasn't talkin' about you, kid.”

You shoot him a smirk as you stick a piece of tape over the bandages covering his injury. “Well, if you're talking about yourself, then you're wrong again. You aren't getting soft. You've always been soft.”

The Horseman mutters something incoherent, but it's his distinct lack of an articulate response that speaks volumes to your ears.

The slight pressure of your fingers as they prod at the tape with tentative care leaves him mourning the centuries he's gone without knowing such a gentle touch. Rolling his eyes down to you, his smile droops and he sighs, sagging forwards to rest his elbows on his knees just as you attempt to place another strip of tape.

“Strife!” you complain, leaning back, “I need to put more tape on!”

He merely blinks at you languidly and says, “Later. I want you concentratin' on me right now.”

“I've been concentrating on you all night,” you huff, though you eventually concede and sit back on your haunches, peering up at the Horseman expectantly.

Studying your face for another moment, he breathes a long sigh and gestures to his stomach. "I told you a demon did this..."

“Uh huh...”

Solemnly, Strife continues, “So more specifically, it was a Shadow Caster. Been on her trail for a couple of weeks now. Finally caught up with her on some farmlands west of the city...” 

“Okay?” you nod, digesting the information, “And why were you on her trail?”

He hesitates, flicking his eyes between you and the window a few times before he quietly admits, “She was comin’ after one of my friends...”

“Who?”

The look he throws you is so pointed, you suddenly feel like a fool for missing the obvious.

“Ah.” Understanding, you slowly nod your head.

“Yup.”

“But, she's dead now, right?” You gesture to his wound. “You came straight here after killing her.”

Strife's eyes darken further and each time they try to land on your face, they seem to slide right off again and drop to the carpet. “Uh, yeah. She's dead.”

You heave a sigh. “She wasn't the only one who's after me.”

“... No..”

“I see.” Inhaling long and slow through your nose, you tip your head back and slap your hands on your thighs, rubbing at them anxiously as you gaze around the room. “So, do we know how many there are?”

The Horseman eyes you for several, silent seconds. Eventually though, he speaks up. “Got wind of a small group of about four of 'em. Demons mostly, one undead. You and I've got a mutual... uh, friend, who's been keeping his ears to the ground, and he reckons they’re aiming to provoke another war between Hell and Earth by killin' the human envoy.”

“Wow. Talk about sore losers,” you scoff humourlessly, “So, who is this mutual friend?”

Some of the tension bleeds out of Strife's posture once he notices that you haven't immediately flown into a panic. “C'mon kid,” he snorts, “You know I can't expose my source. He doesn't want you know that he cares about you. Thinks you might start askin' for discounts if you thought he was getting' soft.”

“Discounts, huh?” Your lips quirk up at their edges and Strife smacks a palm over his mask in mock distress.

“Ah, hell, I gave it away, didn't I?”

“I bet his name rhymes with Shmulgrim, doesn't it?” you laugh.

Chuckling, Strife leans back on his hands again and replies, “Hey, you came to that conclusion on your own. Technically, I never told you who my source was.”

With the atmosphere in your bedroom gradually becoming lighter and lighter, you follow the Horseman's lead and relax backwards onto your hands, stealing a surreptitious glance at the bandages adhered to his torso.

It's no longer as surprising as it used to be that Vulgrim is invested in the well-being of his 'valuable asset.' The Horsemen are perhaps his best clients, hence the vested interest in keeping himself in their good graces by looking out for their human ward.

Shaking your head with a knowing smirk, you push yourself up onto your feet and glance down at yourself, brushing off your pyjama shorts, only to grimace when your hands do nothing but smear Strife's blood all over the fabric.

“Sorry... for the mess.”

You raise your head at the sound of the Horseman's voice and find him glowering down at the stains he's dripped onto your carpet, his eyes hooded and glum.

Heaving a sigh that you hope conveys both exasperation and affection, you reach out and place your comparatively tiny hand on his shoulder to give the pauldron a reassuring squeeze, drawing his gaze back up to your face. “I don't care about the mess, Strife” you tell him matter-of-factly, “The carpet's just here to stop my feet getting cold in the morning. You're my best friend.”

Ever so slowly, his luminous eyes grow wide with wonder and he lets his jaw drop open to speak, but before he manages to utter a soft, 'what?' you give his shoulder a friendly jostle and add, “So long as you're okay, pal, that's the main thing. Now...”

Trailing off, you move back around the bed and let your fingers slide off the Horseman's arm, stepping up to the bedside table containing your pyjamas, oblivious to how swiftly and easily you've just swept the rug out from underneath Strife's feet. He twists himself around on your mattress to watch you, his eyes as wide as than dinner plates.

Did you mean to say... best?

He – well, he always knew that you considered him a friend! Hell, he'd even go so far as to say the two of you are close friends.

But best?

Best implies that there's nobody – nobody – that you hold in higher regard than him...

'How did I miss that!?' his psyche all but screams at him, 'When the Hell did I get so important!?”

You aren't even looking at him, too busy rummaging through your drawers, as if you have no idea that you've just pulled his heart right out of his chest and now you have it cradled in the palms of your hands.

You could crush the life out of him with hardly a word.

“So, you never did say!” you call out to him as you duck into your ensuite bathroom and flick the light on, hiding yourself from view whilst you change, “How does the master of marksmanship get tagged by a Shadowcaster in the first place? You’re not usually the type to get up close and personal. That’s more War’s thing, right?”

All at once, the threats that demon witch had made against you ring like klaxons in Strife’s head and he has to make a conscious effort to ignore his instinct to leap off the bed and barge into the bathroom just to be sure you’re safe. He hears the shuffling of fabric against skin as you pull off the bloodied shorts and begin to pull on the new ones.

Grinding his teeth, he spits out, “She just.. got me mad, is all. Made me wanna have the satisfaction of wringing her neck with my bare hands instead of filling her with bullets.”

“Wait, seriously?” Your silhouette suddenly appears in the bathroom doorway and and strife glances up, briefly enraptured by the halo of light glowing at your back. A fellow human might have likened you to an angel. Strife, however, knows that none of the feathery bastards could hold a candle to you. 

Garbed in clean shorts that smell distinctly of you, and not copper, you step out into your bedroom. “How’d a demon manage to make you mad? You’re like, the champ of not getting mad. It’s like your superpower.”

“Yeah, well..” he mutters, turning his helm away, “This time, she went too far.”

You’re quiet as you flop down onto the bed next to him, your eyes flicking between his downturned head to the fists that are clenched like vices at his sides, metal claws gripping fistfuls of your duvet so tightly, you’re worried he might end up poking holes in the cover.

Whatever had been said to him must have been bad if he’s this riled up.

Biting your lip, you let out a pensive hum and lean backwards, your fingers brushing over a soft lump near the headboard. At once, your eyes grow wide and your lips stretch into a sly grin as your hand closes over something fluffy and familiar.

Strife is still busy stewing when he’s suddenly brought out of his thoughts by a face that’s shoved promptly into his line of sight. He blinks, drawing his head away to properly see what you’re holding up in front of him.

He can’t contain a chuckle once he realises that it’s none other than your old, toy horse, dangling in front of him with its little, black ears flopping forwards to cover a pair of button eyes.

Allowing a smile to grace the edge of his mouth, the Horseman wordlessly relaxes his grasp on your duvet in favour of reaching out to gently take the soft toy out of your hands, lowering it down into his lap.

“I thought David Hasselhoof might make you feel better,” you tell him, bumping your shoulder against his companionably.

The Nephilim simply smiles, stroking his palm over the horse’s fuzzy mane.

“Hey, Strife?” 

“Mmm?”

You fiddle with your fingernail for a moment, dropping your eyes to the bed and taking a breath before you ask, “What did the demon say that made you so angry?”

It isn’t as though you want to pry. But having your friend turn up at your house in the dead of night with his stomach torn open warrants a couple of questions, in your honest opinion.

The Horseman’s brows knit together underneath his helm and he shifts slightly, twisting away from you further until you can’t even see the lights of his eyes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost dare to say that he looks shy. An impossibility, frankly.

When he speaks, his voice is gentle, a far cry from the normal, strident tone you’re used to hearing. “She, uh, she might’ve made a couple of threats about you.. Bad ones.” 

You wait for him to elaborate, but for some time, he doesn’t utter another word, prompting you to ask, “And?”

You very nearly reel backwards into your headboard when Strife whips around to face you. “And?!” he echoes, incredulous, “The Hell d’you mean ‘and?’ Isn’t that enough of a reason?!”

Taken aback, you lift your hands in a placating gesture and stammer, “Woah! I - I just meant... Well, it’s not like I haven’t been threatened before? Just seems like a weird thing for you to get so angry about.”

Without warning, the enormous Nephilim lurches to his feet, the cuddly horse left to tumble, forgotten out of his lap. “Did you not hear me?” he snaps, “She. Threatened. You!”

“A-and that... made you mad?”

“Did - Of course it did!” he all but howls, his voice cracking as it raises in pitch, “She made me listen to all the god damn, sick things she wanted to do to you when she found you! She said - she said, I’d never see you again!” Roughly, he drags his clawed fingertips through his spiky, black hair and exclaims, “Next thing I know, I’m droppin’ Redemption and Mercy, I’ve got her heart in my fist and I’m... I’m...” 

He trails off, knocked out of stride by his own admission. You remain silent, pressed up against your head board with the blankets clutched to your chest.

When he notices you staring up at him, small and wary amongst the sheets, the frustration saps from him like water circling the drain. “So... so yeah,” he huffs, his shoulders slumping and a great wave of shame crashing over him, “I got a little mad! I got a little pissed off. Cause I didn’t like hearin’ someone say they were gonna hurt my friend.”

And with that, he just... deflates, not unlike a punctured tyre. All the hot air inside him is dispelled with every heave of his mighty chest whilst he peers down at you, feeling the weight of your stare upon him. 

Guilt leaves a sour taste in his mouth, rancid and acidic.

You look so.. 

...scared.

Sometimes Strife forgets that to you, he’s an unassailable figure from biblical legend, a bringer of the end days and an ancient gunman with a body count higher than there are grains of sand on the earth. Of course you’re going to be scared of him when he’s raising his voice at you and towering over you like this. And all because he’d had the life scared out of him in the first place.

“I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to -” The words die on his lips and he sighs, defeatedly casting his eye over towards your bedroom window. He doesn’t want to leave you, not without knowing that his siblings have dealt with the remaining threats to your life. But... “I’ll just.. I’ll go.”

Turning his back on you, the Horseman bends to retrieve his discarded cuirass and takes a step towards the window, but a voice, thin as the cobwebs in the corner of your room, stops him in his tracks.

“Strife.” 

The Horseman doesn’t move. he just stares at the darkness through your curtains.

Minutes pass without another word said between you. He remains stubbornly silent, hardly daring to breathe let alone respond to his name, until eventually, he hears a soft huff and rustling behind him.

Footsteps pad across the room and your scent grows stronger as you draw near, wafting over him like an intoxicating aroma before your hand places itself into his palm and he instinctively curls his fingers around it, shuddering at the feel of your soft skin pressed like silk against his roughened hide.

Your tiny, fragile hand... Creator, he really is just a beast standing next to you, isn’t he? The last time he felt this monstrous was..

No. Strife abruptly slams the shutters of his mind down around any thoughts of the Animus. Now is not the time to let dredge up old memories.

Luckily, your voice breaks through the haze and keeps him grounded. “Come on, big guy. Stay here, please?"

“You want me to stay?” he chokes out a laugh, “Even after I scared you?”

“Scared me? What?” It’s your turn to sound confused. “You didn’t scare me Strife, you shocked me. I’ve never seen you this serious before.” 

The Horseman half turns to face you, giving you a glimpse of his warm, golden eyes. “And, I’ve never had a best friend before.” he admits slowly, hearing a soft intake of breath behind him.

“Wait?... I’m your best friend?”

With your hand still in his, Strife steps around slowly to face you, shooting you a quizzical glance. “Uh, yeah? I mean, I don’t exactly have a plethora of friends to choose from, so the competition isn’t that fie- Oof!”

He’s violently interrupted by a soft, squishy body colliding with his. 

You fling your arms around the stunned Horseman’s waist and bury your face into his chest, momentarily forgetting about his injury. Strife, meanwhile, has to employ every molecule of willpower he owns to refrain from flinching, fearing that you’ll let go if he does. He can’t ignore how high his heart just jumped at the feeling of you pressed against him, nor the way his soul soars after realising that you still trust him enough to get this close. 

It’s something that both he and his siblings are all having to get used to, these impromptu hugs. 

Fury had almost flipped you over her shoulder and onto the ground the first time you came at her with your arms open wide, assuming you were going in for an attack. 

War had pulled the most remarkable face, a mixture of alarm and wary delight that caused Strife to keel over in hysterics when you threw your arms around his broad stomach.

Death... Well, Strife hadn’t been around to witness your first hug with his oldest brother, but he imagines it must have been like hugging a block of cold stone.

And Strife? Well, he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the first hug you gave him. It was so tight and comfortable, and for all of a moment, the only things that existed were the two of you. Inside the binding circle of your arms, his troubles couldn’t touch him, the anguish of his sins took a backseat and he became convinced that he could live happily and peacefully until the end of time trapped in your silent embrace.

The sentiment hasn’t dulled with frequency either. Every hug he receives is as powerful and intoxicating as the last. 

This one is no different. 

Strife's large, thickset arms carefully raise to your delicate back and shoulders, where he simply folds himself around you, pushing the nose of his helm into your soft, messy hair and drawing in a long, deep breath, earning your snort of amusement.

“You a big fan of coconut, then?”

“Is that what that smell is?” he mumbles, feeling the world settle around him as his eyes slip shut, “S'different from last time...”

“...Setting aside the fact that you remember what my hair smelled like last time we hugged.. I ran out of apple shampoo.”

“Mmm.” He trails off, humming into your hair, a sound that rumbles straight through you and leaves the top of your head tingling.

It takes your brain another few seconds to recall the injury on his torso.

“Oh, shit,” you hiss, leaning back and instantly finding your progress blocked by the Horseman's sturdy forearms. “I'm sorry, I didn't think -”

“- Eh, s'fine,” he cuts you off.

“It's not! I forgot, you need to be resting it!”

Strife grumbles his displeasure when you suddenly become very wriggly. “Strife, let go. You should be resting, not standing.”

Cracking one eye open, he roves his gaze over towards your bed. “Resting, huh? …. Not a bad idea.”

Without warning, he stoops down, and for the second time tonight, you find yourself suddenly swept up off your feet, bleating out a garbled squawk of alarm. “Stop picking me up! You'll start bleeding again!”

Smirking to himself, the Horseman takes two, loping steps towards your bed and lowers you down amongst the folds of the duvet, taking great pleasure in crawling over the top of you to get to the other side, armour and all. It isn't the first time he's rested in your bed, usually following a long night of playing your video games and catching up on all the human things he's been missing out on, and it likely won't be the last.

The bed springs creak despondently as he lifts his corner of the duvet and flops heavily onto his side next to you, grinning at the unimpressed glare you're shooting him.

“I like your bed,” he announces, burrowing himself deeper beneath the duvet, “You got a lot of pillows. And-”

His hand rustles beneath the covers for a moment before he winks... and slowly draws out David Hasselhoof, wiggling him back and forth in front of your eyes. “There's room for a threesome.”

“Oh my god. Goodnight, Strife!” Your lips quiver until you give in and crack a genuine smile, grabbing a pillow and whapping it softly down onto his helm. You get no resistance from the Horseman at all in retaliation. He merely lays there with his head hidden, black tufts of hair sticking out from behind your pillow as his shoulders bounce around a throaty chuckle.

Leaving him where he is, you roll over, turn off the fairy lights and plunge your bedroom into cozy, unassailable darkness.

A thick silence falls over the two of you, and the back of your neck begins to prickle, sensing without a shadow of a doubt that the Horseman's eyes are open and watching you. Sure enough, you peel your eyelids apart and find that your far wall is faintly illuminated by the golden light that emanates from his gaze.

Rolling your eyes, you resign yourself to a long night of fighting for your covers and kicking a wriggling Horseman back over onto his own side of the bed. And yet... if it's him, if it's Strife, it most likely won’t bother you in the slightest.

The alarm clock on your bedside table steadily ticks over to the three o'clock mark and you finally feel sleep crawl up behind your eyes. Just as you think you might nod off, however, the bed shakes ever so slightly, and behind you, there's the sound of shuffling sheets. It stops just as suddenly as it starts and you snort, chalking it up to a certain, restless Horseman trying to get used to the human-sized bed.

Several more minutes pass.

The shuffling starts up again, then it stops.

The same thing happens again a few more minutes later and your eyes snap open when something cool and solid nudges gently into the back of your head and you hear a quiet sniff before the whole bed shudders as the enormous Horseman laying upon it releases a monstrously low rumble of contentment.

-----

Strife leaves his helm right behind you all night, not that you'd know until the morning however, when you jerk awake to your bedroom door suddenly slamming open and Death thundering inside. He takes one look at his brother laying at your back and promptly begins a lecture that you're fairly certain will be the favoured topic of neighbourhood gossip for some time to come.

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #darksiders 3 #Strife #reader #fluff #sharing a bed! #monster boyfriend #interspecies relationships #blood #injury #whump

[fandom-imagines-stories]

There With You

Peeta Mellark x Reader

Words: 2532

Summary: A panic attack during the Victor’s tour leaves the reader gasping for breath backstage. Her fiance is able to calm her down, but now she’s afraid that what’s real and what’s pretend will blur together.

Notes: This is another kind of comfort fic based on my own experience, so I hope someone out there can connect with it. I love reading things to help calm myself down, so I hope that my comfort imagines can do that for somebody else. Plus Peeta is one of my comfort characters, so it works out. (Also, the reader has taken Katniss’ place in this scenario. Still love Katniss, but this fit the story)

Warnings: Panic attack, anxiety, the like (This is not a depiction of every kind of panic attack. This is just what I have experienced in the past)

-

None of this was supposed to happen. There wasn’t supposed to be two of you. There weren't supposed to be riots. The romance wasn’t supposed to be real.

Then why was he the only one keeping you from sprinting off that stage?

Peeta’s fingers were intertwined with yours as he spoke to the crowd, keeping you grounded. You tried to focus on the sound of his voice instead of the hundreds of eyes staring up at you. You looked up at the screens and saw her looking back at you. Her. The first person you’d ever killed and you couldn’t even bring yourself to think of her name.

Your breathing hitched and you could feel the squeezing, twisting grip around your throat. No no no not now. Not in front of the entire crowd. What would President Snow do to you if you broke down in front of an entire district? What would he do to Peeta?

“Thank you.” Peeta finished up his speech and a few people in the crowd reluctantly applauded. His eyes locked on your face, seeing a single tear fall down your cheek and he quickly led you off the stage.

He knew that District 9 would be the hardest for you. He still remembered the knife and the blood and the gore. You had killed her to save him. And now you had to live with that for the rest of your life.

The doors closed behind you and you immediately fell back against them, clutching your chest with your free hand. You ripped open the buttons on your high-necked dress, foolishly thinking that it would make it easier to breathe. The invisible hand had closed around your throat, knees crushing down your chest. When you closed your eyes, Clove was on top of you, choking the life out of you slowly, whispering all of the ways she was going to torment Peeta once you were gone.

“Let’s get her out of here.” Haymitch said, his expression a mix of worry and unease. He knew the image of a weak Victor would mean more problems that you weren’t ready to deal with. He remembered what it was like to be under the eye of the Capitol.

“I can’t… I can’t do this. Peeta, I can’t keep-” You gasped in between shaky breaths. Your vision was blurred at the sides and you were gripping the door to keep from collapsing. “I-I-”

“Shh, it’s okay. You don’t have to talk now.” Peeta said, putting a hand on your cheek. “Can you walk to the train?” You nodded, but couldn’t seem to bring your hands away from the door. Peeta looked back at Haymitch and Effie for a moment before turning back to you. “I’m going to carry you, okay?” You must have nodded because he kissed your cheek before scooping you up in his arms.

Your hands released the door and instead latched onto the lapel of his jacket. Every part of you was shaking and the weight on your chest was only getting heavier.

“P-Peeta.” You cried, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes.

“I’ve got you. We’re almost there.” He tried to hide the crack in his voice, trying to be the strong one for you, but seeing you like this split his heart in half. Haymitch and Effie huddled around you, trying to block the two of you from any prying eyes or cameras.

You didn’t notice when they finally got you onto the train. In your head, you were still on that stage, staring out at the little brothers of the girl you murdered. You thought for sure you were suffocating. Every breath was becoming harder and more painful than the last and the blackness at the edge of your vision was growing.

Peeta sat down, holding you in his lap and gently stroking his fingers through your hair.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe. You aren’t in the arena. You’re here with me.” He buried his face in your neck, gently pressing a kiss to the place between your shoulder and your spine. “You’re with me.”

“I’ll never leave that arena.” You whispered, your voice so quiet you weren’t sure if he even heard you.

This was far from the first attack you’d had since winning the games, but it was certainly the worst.

Haymitch and Effie just watched you with sympathetic eyes for a moment before leaving the two of you alone. Peeta held you tight until your breathing started to return to a steady pace. While your vision cleared, your body couldn't stop shaking and you couldn’t seem to pry your hands away from his jacket.

“I’m sorry.” You sniffed, trying to wipe panicked tears away on your sleeve.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I shouldn’t have made you go out there with me. I knew what it was going to be like for you and I should have-”

“They wouldn’t have let you go out there alone.” You shook your head. “There’s no hiding from them, Peeta.” You repeated your words like an echo, over and over again. “I’ll never leave that arena.”

“Then I’m right there with you.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and stood up, keeping you pressed against his chest. “Come on, we should try and get some sleep before we reach the next District.”

He carried you to your compartment and tucked you under the covers. He crawled up beside you without you having to ask. It had become an unsaid thing between the two of you. You kept the nightmares away as best as you could and when one of you woke up afraid, you weren’t alone.

-

Peeta had proposed for the cameras the day you left for the Victor’s tour, but it was all for show. The Capitol ate it up. When you really said yes, it was a week prior, just the two of you in the calming quiet in a meadow outside of the fence. It meant more that way.

Of course, Effie had picked out an extravagant ring for you to wear on stage and everything. It was gaudy and heavy and enough jewels to feed three districts for a month. But like the faked proposal, it wasn’t what was real.

You twisted the small bronze band around your finger, examining it in the faint light coming through the train windows. You had been awake for about an hour now, but Peeta’s peaceful sleep kept you from stirring. You rested in the warmth of his embrace and listened carefully to the slow, comforting sound of his heart beat.

You wanted to stay in this moment forever.

“Rise and shine you two.” Effie burst through the door and Peeta instantly went rigid beneath you, jolting up and pushing you behind him. You couldn’t see his face, but his expression frightened Effie. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think, I-”

“No, Effie, it’s okay. Really.” He said apologetically, his expression softening. “We’ll be out for breakfast in a second.”

“Alright. Don’t be long. I know they want to do a feature on engaged life. A little romance might be just what you two need.” She gave you both a small smile before walking out, the door sliding shut behind her. Peeta laid back on his elbows, blowing out a low sigh.

“I didn’t mean to scare her. I just heard the door open and all I could think was that someone was here to take you away.” He pulled you back down to him and gently pressed his lips to yours. Truthfully, he’d been in the middle of a nightmare when he heard Effie enter. He thought that the images in his head were becoming real.

“She’ll be okay.” You concluded, drawing circles on his chest . “Effie is tougher than she seems. And she knows what we’ve been through.” Despite her bright and sometimes obnoxiously optimistic attitude, you knew that Effie wasn’t a mindless pawn from the Capitol. She saw what the games did to you. She saw the children behind the victors.

Breakfast was mostly had in a settled quiet. While neither of you said anything, Haymitch glanced over at you and you nodded to let him know that you were okay. It was that silent understanding that was the foundation of your relationship with your former mentor.

“They’re doing an update interview to see how the Capitol’s darling lovebirds have been enjoying their tour.” Haymitch said gruffly. “Which means lots of blushing and doe-eyes from you two.”

“That won’t be hard.” Peeta noted, looking over at you. He meant it sweetly, but something about it sent a shiver of dread down your spine. You ignored it, giving him a small smile.

“It’s comforting to know we won’t need to convince anybody of the whole hopeless romantic thing.” Haymitch made a face. “You two do a wonderful job of making me nauseous all on your own.” Effie smacked him with her rolled up napkin.

“I think it’s wonderful.” She mused dreamily. “How something like that could bring you together.”

You stiffened, keeping your eyes on your plate, pushing your eggs around mindlessly with your fork. Sometimes you forgot that this was still all a TV show for people to gawk at. You would be the star crossed lovers from District 12 for the rest of your lives. No amount of real emotion you felt for Peeta was going to erase that.

The other three seemed to notice your shift and finished their meal in silence. Haymitch excused himself to the dining car for likely the rest of the day and Effie left to work on the speeches you’d have to read in front of District 8. You hadn’t eaten a bite, opting to sip slowly at your coffee instead.

“Just a few more days and we’ll get to go home.” Peeta said, noticing your empty stare and untouched meal. You just nodded, not really hearing him.

-

“So tell us, Peeta, when did you know that you wanted to propose?” Caesar grinned into the camera.

“Honestly, I knew the moment we stepped out of the arena that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.” Peeta gave your hand a squeeze and looked at you with complete and utter adoration. Caesar gasped in awe, eating up the fluffy romance that Peeta was perfect at portraying.

Is that all this is? The thought penetrated your mind before you could stop it. A performance? Is everything he says for the sake of the camera?

“I’m not sure if I’ll ever forgive you for not including me in the moment, Peeta.” Caesar pouted. “But it was just so sweet I can’t stay mad at you!” The two laughed and you forced a loving smile. “Really, proposing in front of the bakery just before you left for the tour- why, it’s probably the most romantic thing I have ever seen.”

“I’m glad it came off that way, because I was a nervous wreck!” Peeta exclaimed and they laughed again. You had to admire his acting ability. Maybe that’s what scared you so much.

He’s just performing. Is he performing with you?

“I think we all want to know,” Caesar beamed, turning his attention to you, “what was going through your head, Y/N? When Peeta got down on one knee?”

You pushed any doubt from your head and just focused on everything you knew was real. “Honestly, Caesar, I can’t think of a happier moment in my life. I never knew what I was missing until we found each other.”

“Don’t these two just make you believe in love, Claudius?” He gushed to his costar. “We’ll let the two of you get back to your tour, but I can’t say how excited we are to have you all to ourselves here in the Capitol.”

“We can’t wait.” Peeta grinned. You both smiled broadly, waiting for the little red recording light to turn off. As soon as the cameras were gone, Peeta lifted your hand up to his lips. “That went well.” He muttered against the skin of your palm.

“Yeah. I think they definitely believe that we’re the perfect couple.” You hadn’t meant to say it so bitterly, but as soon as the words left your mouth, Peeta’s expression changed.

“What’s wrong?” His eyes were different, the charisma that was there with Caesar was gone. His worry seemed to stem from something real, but you just couldn’t convince yourself that it was.

“Nothing.” None of this is real. It’s all just the games. What if you’re still in the arena? What if this is all in your head? You broke away from him, trying to hide the panic growing and growing inside you until it was all you could feel. You could hear him saying your name, but it sounded garbled and far away, like he was whispering in the rain.

What seized you now was unlike you’d ever felt before. Not only was it the dark panic that blurred your vision and tightened your throat until you couldn’t breathe- it was a complete disconnect from reality. It was like you were trapped inside one of their screens and you were banging on the glass, trying to get out.

-

You didn’t realize you had fainted until you woke up in Peeta’s arms. His was sitting up, cradling you in his lap like he had before, only now you were in your room and you had a blanket draped around your shoulders. You jerked away, your mind still terrified that even this wasn’t real.

“Woah, hey it’s okay. I’m right here.”

“This isn’t real. None of this is real.” You whispered in a panic, still trying to push away from him. This was the Capitol. They were in your head. “You aren’t real.” As hard as you shoved against him, his strong arms were locked around you. He pressed a kiss to your temple, holding you closer.

“I’m right here. I’m real. Just breathe. Come on, stay with me.” While his voice was soothing, your vision was still blurred with hot tears.

“We can never escape this. Every second of our lives belongs to them. Nothing is real. It’s all theirs.”

Peeta pulled away, taking your hand in his. He slid the bronze ring off your finger and held it up.

“This is ours. It’s not Snow’s, it’s not the Capitol’s, it’s ours. It’s real and it’s ours.” He put the ring back on and moved your hand to his chest. You could feel his heart beating beneath your fingertips. “I’m real,” He looked at you with a gentle and yet intense love, “and I am completely yours.”

You wiped away your tears and laid a hand on his cheek. “Peeta-”

“And no matter the nightmare, no matter the fear, or when your mind takes you back to the games, just remember I will always be there with you.”

He pulled you back to him and the two of you remained- away from the cameras and away from the Capitol. At least for now, you weren’t victors. You were a boy and a girl who had saved each other.

#peeta mellark #peeta mellark x reader #hunger games #catching fire #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket #the hunger games imagine #josh hutcherson