#reg on the other side of the room loving every second of it

[aithusarosekiller]

James, sitting down at breakfast: hey guys

Remus: ...okay, you do know-

James, adjusting his Slytherin green tie: I know. It wasn't an accident, I pissed Reggie off and he turned my tie green so I wouldn't do it again.

Remus: and you couldn't just change it back when you left his dorm?

*the entire hall staring at James*

James: I dunno, I think I'm maybe enjoying this a little too much

#reg on the other side of the room loving every second of it #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #mwpp #marauders era #marauders #jegulus hc #remus lupin

[xflippinfrogx]

Hiii i love your ficsss🤍🤍

could you write a lee regulus fic?? he's one of my favorite characters too!!!

Sorry if something is written wrong I don't speak English well so I'm using the help of the translator

When we were younger

A/N~ AGH YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG IVE WANTED TO WRITE LEE REGULUS!! You didn’t give me much prompt so I played around a little hehe. I hope you like it :D (P.S your English is perfect my dear!!)

LEE~ Regulus Black

LER~ Sirius Black

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ 💙THIS IS A TICKLE FIC IF YOU DONT LIKE DONT READ💙

Regulus was in a bad mood.

This wasn’t a very uncommon event but it seemed to be worse than his usual brooding and his friends were starting to notice.

“Regulus, are you alright mate?” Barty asked, finally giving in to Evan and Pandoras looks of concern.

“I’m fine.” He snapped glaring at him. He felt bad for being so rude but he had bigger problems right now..

The quidditch final was coming up soon and with him being seeker there was a lot of pressure on him to do his best.

On top of that he had, had the worst day. Everything that could’ve gone wrong, went wrong.

This morning he spilt his breakfast all over himself and knocked his tea into someone else’s in the process.

On the way to his first class he accidentally walked through Nearly headless Nick. During his second he realised he had forgotten the homework and then received double for that night.

Finally, at the end of the day when he believed his bad luck was over his idiotic classmate blew up their potions project and they now had to start from scratch.

All Regulus wanted to do was sit in the common room and be angry. As much as he appreciated his friends for caring about him, he isn’t the greatest at showing it.. So scowling at the floor it is.

At least that was his plan until his brother showed up.

“There’s my favourite brother!!” Sirius exclaimed, perching himself on the arm of the sofa Regulus sat upon.

“I’m your only brother Sirius.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “What are you all grumpy about huh? Barty said you were getting snappy, everything ok Reg?”

“I said I’m fine!!” He spoke through gritted teeth. Why was everyone so interested in bothering him today?

“Well that’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard.” Sirius mumbled moving closer to his brother.

“Look, if you’re just gonna sit here all doom and gloom I’m going to have to resort to drastic measures.”

God he’s dramatic. What was he on about anyway??

The others were still in the room and were as confused as Regulus.

“What do you mean drastic measures?” Evan piped up.

“Well my dear Rosier, when we were younger and Reggie here was in one of his moods I had my ways of making him smile.” Oh shit.

It all came rushing back to him now. Memories of laughter and so called tickle monsters. He was panicking, he couldn’t let his friends see that. No way. He had to get out of there before Sirius could embarrass him.

Sirius knew exactly what Regulus was thinking and as he attempted to bolt for the door Sirius tackled him to the ground.

“Sirius get off!! This is childish-” He was cut off by wiggling fingers reaching his sides.

He clamped his mouth shut refusing to give Sirius the satisfaction. Sirius wouldn’t give up that easily though.

“You and I both know who’s going to win here little brother, you might as well give up now and save the us the hassle.” He could see Regulus was close to breaking but that boy was stubborn as hell.

He used one hand to lift his arms above his head using the other to continue his ticklish onslaught.

“Regulus you leave me no choice.. You asked for this” He smirked shoving both hands under his brothers arms.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Regulus cackled.

He completely lost it, loud and boisterous laughter erupting from his chest.

Sirius grinned so wide he thought his face would split in two. Seeing Regulus like that was so rare nowadays, he was soaking up every last giggle while he still could.

“Are you gonna stop being so angry at the world?” Sirius teased poking at his ribs.

“YEHEHEHES” Regulus was so worn out from laughing that all he could do was oblige.

“Annddd who’s the greatest brother of all time?” He slowed the attack to hear the younger boys answer.

“You’re soho duhumb.” He giggled through heavy breathing.

“That’s not an answer.” He stated rapidly squeezing his sides again.

“OKAY OKAHAHY IHITS YOUUU!! PLEAHSE SIRIUHUS!!” He begged throwing his head back in hysterics.

“That’s more like it,” he laughed ruffling regulus’ hair.

What the two brother failed to remember was that there were three slytherins standing watching this whole scene play out.

They would tease Reg about this later but for now they’d leave the two have their moment. After all it was nice to see their friend smiling for once.

Just like when they were younger<33

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

#sfw tickle blog #marauders tickle #lee!regulus #ler!sirius #tickle asks #sfw tickle #sfw tickling

[fayestardust]

for bob tours: was there a moment (or more than one) at a place where you felt ~connected to a scene from bob/the real events?

All the tours I’ve been on have special moments, though some more than others. Thank you for asking me about this, as I love recounting these memories. Some of this is actually what you asked for; the rest is just me being sappy.

Okay, ready? Behind the read more because it's SUPER long.

Eindhoven tour, April 2022

This was the first WW2 tour I’ve ever been on and the first of We Happy Few 506’s Band of Brothers tours. Special for that reason alone. It was a one-day tour with a Q&A the day before, and only four out of six actors who were supposed to join actually made it over to Eindhoven. First up: Matthew Leitch (Floyd ‘Tab’ Talbert), our fierce leader on all of the tours so I won’t mention him every time. He co-founded WHF506. He’s kind of a very annoying older brother to me now. Also there were Tim Matthews (Alex Penkala), Doug Allen (Alton More) and Mark Lawrence (William H. Dukeman).

I enjoyed the Q&A, though at that point was far too insecure to ask anything about Band because the room was filled with much bigger WW2 nerds (at the time, I’ve now caught up) who all seemed to ask very profound questions. I also shied away from taking any photos with the actors because people pretty much swarmed them, and I’m slightly claustrophobic.

I was making art already at that point, and for this trip had managed to draw Matt and Mark. See here a moment of joy for me.

The next day was the day of the tour, and I was pretty nervous about it because I’d never done a bus tour before, but in my experience, buses aren’t particularly wheelchair-friendly. Such was the case here, too, but the moment I approached the daunting steps of the Megabus, guests (special and not) flocked over to help me up them. All doubt evaporated. I got appointed the spacious back-of-the-bus seat, with my cousin on one side and Mark Lawrence on the other.

I’ll single Mark out for this tour because our conversations on the bus were very real and important to me. But also because one of the most moving moments on the tour happened when we visited the Crossroads. This is where Mark’s character and the real Dukeman died. If you ever get to visit... the Crossroads in the show looks exactly like the real location. Easily one of the most true-to-life set locations. And Mark had never been to the Netherlands. It tore him up. We all sniffled, watching him cry. The thing you have to realise is that he feels like he owes his entire life to the show. He met his lovely wife because she saw him on tv, and they fell in love. He has Dukeman’s service number tattooed on his body. And he’s the kindest, sweetest soul.

Later, months after the tour, he called me up to sing me happy birthday at six in the morning.

Both Doug and Tim remain my friends to this day. I’m perhaps most grateful for the connections made on these tours. Some of the other guests are now also like family.

Bastogne tour - part 1, November 2022

Bastogne is a magical place for me. I took one of my geekiest friends on this second tour. Special guests were Freddie Joe Farnsworth (military advisor on both BoB and the Pacific) and Phil McKee (Strayer). Not the most well-known people in this fandom I think. But interesting. And funny. 

This tour was led by Reg Jans, and he’s THE guide who knows everything you could ever want to know about the Battle of the Bulge. So, during this tour, I feel like I learned a lot more about that, beyond what we see in Band.

Of course, we also visited Easy Company’s foxholes in the Bois Jacques. There was no snow (stay tuned for that on a later tour), so it’s not like it is in the show. But the woods are eerily quiet. I don’t know if I believe in anything supernatural beyond things like intuition, but if I were to start anywhere, it’d be there. Freddie Joe explained the consequences of sleep deprivation for your brain to us, to help us understand the soldiers better. Sometimes, they were their own worst enemies. They were freezing, underfed, underdressed and barraged by artillery, and most of the time, could not even see the Germans.

We also visited where John Julian was pinned down by Germans for hours. It’s still unclear what exactly happened to him, or when or how he died. We only see seconds of it in the show. It's like that with many things in the show actually. All the battles took a long, long time.

This tour isn’t my favourite - there’s a better one right after this, but this did solidify the idea that I would go on these tours just to see the people I’ve met while there. 

Bastogne tour - part 2, January 2023

Here it is, my favourite tour. Barely two months after the last one. Bastogne in the very dead of winter. Let me tell you: it was COLD. But it would have been, for the soldiers of Easy.

The special guests on the second day of the tour were Shane Taylor (Eugene ‘Doc’ Roe), and Lucie Jeanne (Renee Lemaire). Doug (Alton More) was also there, and it was lovely to see him again. But as you can guess, having Doc Roe and Renee on the tour in Bastogne is pretty amazing. Eugene and Renee never actually met each other, one of the few dramatisations of the show. It serves a purpose, though, so it’s mostly seen as acceptable. Renee’s story is quite tragic, and she died very close to where she had lived with her parents and her body was wrapped in the fine silk of parachutes and brought back to them. 

There were also some good hugs at the 'Nuts' bar! But the absolutely most amazing part of the tour happened without them. Our second day started really, really early. We got up at 5 am, got on the bus, and drove to the Bois Jacques. It was still pitch black when we got out, freezing cold and fresh snow crunched underneath our sleepy feet. 

Reg Jans was on this tour again, and he had something truly haunting in store for us. We all stood in a circle around him with our (mostly just purchased for this trip) head torches on as he recited a prayer by Lt. Col. Robert L. Wolverton, commanding officer of 3rd battalion, 506th PIR. 

Here it is.

Men, I am not a religious man and I don't know your feelings in this matter, but I am going to ask you to pray with me for the success of the mission before us. And while we pray, let us get on our knees and not look down but up with faces raised to the sky so that we can see God and ask His blessing in what we are about to do: God almighty, in a few short hours we will be in battle with the enemy. We do not join battle afraid. We do not ask favors or indulgence but ask that, if You will, use us as Your instrument for the right and an aid in returning peace to the world. We do not know or seek what our fate will be. We ask only this, that if die we must, that we die as men would die, without complaining, without pleading and safe in the feeling that we have done our best for what we believed was right. O Lord, protect our loved ones and be near us in the fire ahead and with us now as we pray to you.

And into the woods, we went. You have to remember, there are no cars at this hour. It’s dark. It’s quiet. We were told to be quiet. We were told to sit in the foxholes in the snow. We switched off our lights. No one was shooting at us, but we felt, in part, what the men of Easy Company would have felt. And then we watched the sun come up. It’s the closest thing to a religious experience I’ve ever felt.

I met one of my favourite people in the world on this tour, too. He took these wonderful photos of me and inspired me to take up photography again, myself.

Normandy tour, June 2023

This tour was a bit of an odd one out. It felt chaotic because it was scheduled around D-Day, which made Normandy really poorly accessible. It’s so busy, so our tour was mostly improvised around areas with the least amount of traffic jams. 

It did have its moments, though. Normandy is a cool place. And we had the amazing Pete McCabe (Donald Hoobler) with us. 

The day before the tour, I actually got to meet three Normandy veterans. Humbling, to say the least. I also met several more Band actors (Peter Youngblood Hills, Alex Sagba-Brady, Christian Black, Nolan Hemmings) and Scott Gibson, who played Captain Haldane in the Pacific. We still keep in touch. Christian Black is now a Still Photographer, and mostly shoots Tom Cruise’s movie stills. He also took this photo of Nolan Hemmings, this painting of him and little old me. 

I was really glad to see many friends again. And I brought my own camera and took amazing pictures (teehee). We saw most of Easy’s known landing spots in Sainte Mère Eglise, like Winters’ and Lipton’s, to name a few.  

Our guide here was Paul ‘Woody’ Woodadge, an English guy married to a French woman. He’s nice, but critical of Easy’s fame, not so much on account of Easy, but mostly because Easy was just one of the many companies that did incredible things. We visited the area around Brécourt Manor, where we learned that other company Paratroopers cleared the way for Easy’s famous mission.  It doesn’t make it less impressive, but it adds loads of context.

Another thing that I found incredibly moving was the reading of Lt. Meehan’s last letter home. It’s easy to forget how young these men were. And how wise. Meehan’s plane crashed in a field, and nearly 80 years later, you can still see where it landed because while the field is fully planted, there’s a part near a hedgerow that remains barren to this day. Haunting. 

We also visited Marmion Farm, where many famous Easy Company photos were taken (it’s where they more or less come back together after the jump).

One of my favourite stories, though, is that of medics Robert Wright and Ken Moore of the 101st Airborne. They treated 80 injured American and German soldiers and a child in a church in Angoville-au-Plain. There are still bloodstains on the pews. 

So, as you can tell, not everything had to do with Easy, because we also went to Omaha Beach, where I got out of my chair and walked. Just to walk where these brave men had walked and really feel the history.

Eindhoven/Arnhem Market Garden Tour, October 2023

My second favourite tour after Bastogne in winter. Our guest here was Mark Huberman (Lester Hashey) who was meant to come on the original Eindhoven tour but couldn’t. He’s delightfully Irish, and had the best anecdotes from the set. Also absolutely hilarious.

Many of my friends weren’t on this tour, so going on to it, I couldn’t have guessed it would rank among my favourites.

It was split between two things. Some Easy Company sites and stories (some repeats from the first tour, but often with a slightly different angle or experience), and the British side of Operation Market Garden!

By the way, did you know that Hoobler picks up the Luger that ends up killing him in Bastogne, at the Crossroads? I think they changed it in the show to let the story flow better.

Anyway. I loved this tour. We visited Schoonderlogt and the Crossroads again. This time I sat in the grassy field while everyone else did the famous run across. It’s such a long way!

But the stories of the British troops were perhaps even cooler to me. Because that all happened right on my doorstep. I knew the bigger picture, but we had Reg Jans on this tour again, which is synonymous with really personal stories. So for our British troops day, we followed in the footsteps of leaders and soldiers alike, until we met them again in their final resting place in the military cemetery. A really rewarding journey. Mark also read a letter by Ivar Rowberry, which I posted about here. There’s an audio recording of it too, which is well worth a listen. 

If you want to read more about any of these tours (I’m a bit tired of writing so much, check out my actual - non tumblr - blog over here. There is an entry for each one, there.

#band of brothers #ww2 tours #ask me things in my askbox please thanks

[03junkie]

something has been written. I’m feeling extra in my feels today, so this is the product of that. Also CW: alcohol and recreational drug use

Midnight is truly when Barty and Evan come to life. Where the day is slow, somber and lazy, it’s the hours of the Devil when they actually enjoy life. They turn on every light in the house, and turn up the volume on their speakers. Noise complaints were frequent, but they were both rich enough to pay for the soundproofing of their neighbours’ house. Their own house? No, they didn’t care enough to alter their own home for a bunch of sensitive pricks.

Barty put on music, some rendition of Russian EDM that Evan had grown up with, owing to the fact that they’ve been around each other since they could talk. Initially, Evan hated the sound of it, but slowly, he got a taste for it. When his friends would insult the pair’s taste in music, Evan would jump to defend themselves, saying that the group of them were just too inferior to understand good music.

Being friends for about twenty years, and a couple for five, they had seen each other through all sorts of times, good, bad, ugly. Somewhere along the road of finding comfort in each other’s beds, they both had fallen hard. The kind of falling one could only dream of; crashing and burning and soaring all at the same time.

Along the years, the both of them had taken to vice. It’d been a long time coming, after escaping their houses for each other. They’d made enough of a name for themselves in the world; Barty wrote, and Evan sang. With whatever little fame they had, they’d made a near-perfect life for themselves.

Now, almost ritualistically, Evan was pulling out two crystal glasses (a housewarming gift from Reg and James), and pulling out the stopper on the decanter filled with whiskey.

“You know I’m trying to reduce alcohol, любимый,” Barty slung an arm across Evan’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. As a force of habit, Evan couldn’t help the blush settling on his cheeks.

“You’re no fun when you’re sober.” Evan jutted his lower lip out almost cartoonishly. Barty gave him a long, languid look, before sighing. He reached out for the glass settled on the counter, and drank in one gulp. He didn’t even flinch as the liquid went down. Barty poured another one for himself, and drank that as swiftly as the first.

Evan smiled, and watched as Barty moved across the room rhythmically, turning the volume up higher. Evan turned to his own glass. He preferred to drink slower, because he tended to get drunk faster than Barty. Barty had been drinking since he was thirteen, but it wasn’t a problem. He knew he could stop whenever he wanted, and he didn’t want to stop right now. The couple’s friends were concerned for Barty, but Evan always shut them down saying that he knew what was best for Barty.

“Baby, can you change the song? Это скучно.” Barty yelled from their bedroom. Evan obliged, and a very familiar melody filled the walls of their house. He heard Barty whoop in delight.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” He walked out of the room, eyelids painted with blue glitter, and a feather boa ‘round his neck. Evan laughed, not unkindly, but because he was lucky to be with someone so beautiful. Barty reached for the whiskey once again, but stopped before pouring it. “We have tequila, да?”

“Behind the other bottles on the second shelf.” Barty grinned at him, a manic quirk of the lips with something glinting in his eyes.

“You bought the expensive shit?” Evan nodded, swallowing part of his drink.

“I knew you wanted it, so I bought it.” He shrugged. Barty jumped up to his feet and ambushed Evan into a breath-restricting hug. He kissed both his cheeks a couple times.

“Я люблю тебя, baby. Really.” He laughed against Evan’s throat, and Evan felt his own chest constricting at the sound. It was his favourite thing in the world. These domestic moments tucked away in their otherwise fast-paced lives.

“I love you too, Bat,” Barty kissed him, taking his time. His hands were on Evan’s waist, guiding him into a slow dance. The music was fast, but there was something about Barty moving him so slowly and gingerly across their living room. “Your tequila’s waiting for you.”

“Shots?” Barty looked at him through his lashes, innocent and sweet.

“You already know it. There should be a lime in the fridge,” Evan watches Barty from behind, silently admiring the slope of his shoulders and the narrowness of his waist. Barty was beyond beautiful, in all honesty. He was breathtaking, the same way a scenery was. One could never take their eyes off him even if they wanted to. He was the automatic center of attention of any event, and he reveled in it. He knew that his beauty was a weapon, and he wielded it with pride.

“Роза, find your stash. I’m feeling like a bit of pot today.”

“Alright, but not too much. We both know chemsex isn’t for us.” Barty laughed softly from the kitchen. Evan headed to their bedroom, flicking the lights on. He always kept a bit with him at all times. That was his vice. Barty had alcohol, and Evan had his stash of pot. From the room, he could hear Barty singing along with the song. The drunker he got, the more prominent his accent got. It wouldn’t be long before the boy was speaking purely in Russian.

Evan rejoined his boyfriend in the living room, who had already laid out multiple shot glasses in a row, with a bunch of slices of lime alongside them.

“Salt?”

“Don’t worry about it, солнышко,” Barty ruffled his hair. He picked up the salt shaker and unscrewed its lid. He shook out some salt onto the back of his palm, and licked it off. Before Evan could react, Barty was kissing him, the taste of salt filling his mouth. “Drink up, baby.”

Evan picked up a glass and threw the contents of it back into his mouth. The alcohol burned as it went down. Barty handed him a wedge of lime and he bit into it, eyes scrunching up at the sourness. He wasn’t a fan of tequila, evidently. He waved his hand around his neck, signaling that he was done. Barty pouted, eyebrows furrowed.

“Don’t be a spoilsport, Evs.” He scanned Evan’s face expectantly, and Evan couldn’t help but oblige.

“Fine, but only one more. That’s all.”

“I won’t push you for more anyway. Everyone knows what happens when you’re tipsy, or need I remind you about the time you cried when I said I was taken?” Evan scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Low blow, Bat.”

“I could take it lower.” Barty winks and Evan’s heart skips a beat. One would expect that the love between both of them would decrease over the year— especially with how maddeningly close they are— but Evan still felt flustered when Barty smiled at him, the same way he did at sixteen. Evan was, admittedly, mad for him; the way a poet is mad for a dark night, an artist mad for a muse. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for this man, and no one could stop them from being close, not life and definitely not death.

“You talk too much.” Evan reached for a second shot glass, deciding against a chaser. It would be something he’s going to regret a couple seconds from now, but that was a consequence he was willing to live with.

“Would you rather I stop?”

Making a sour face, Evan responds, “No, never.” Barty smiles a lopsided grin, far from perfect.

“Now, why would you do that? Никакого самоконтроля, говорю вам.”

“Mock me all you want in words only you understand, but don’t forget that I pay for the alcohol.” Barty’s expression switched immediately, eyes going wide in surprise.

“You know I love you, Evan. I would never mock you.”

“That’s hardly believable, but I’ll let it go this time.” Barty unwrapped the boa from his neck, looping it over Evan’s shoulders. He puts no space between them, they stand perfectly flush with each other. Barty smells like alcohol and expensive perfume; Barty smells like home.

“Dance with me, любимый.”

“Music’s too fast.”

“So we hasten.” And that was that. Barty is swinging his hips, singing loudly. Though Evan understands a small amount of Russian, he never bothered to learn it. He wanted to keep it sacred for Barty. It was his relationship with his childhood, and Evan wanted no part in causing ruination to that. Evan found out that Russian could be polarising. It could sound crass and rude, and it could sound soft and gentle at the same time. “Now, Evan, I’ve seen you dance better than that.”

“I’m a better singer than dancer, Bat.” Barty blinked a couple of times, almost like he was batting his eyelashes.

“So open your throat and sing, magpie.” Evan grinned.

“I’ve heard that one in the confines of our bedroom before,”

“I didn’t hear you complaining, шлюха,”

“I know that word, Bat, and I know that’s what half of our school called you.” Barty shrugs. Everyone and their mother knew that Barty was the slut of the school. He got around, and he enjoyed the attention he got. Evan never had a problem with his past, because none of the pricks in school were going to bed with him everyday at obscene hours of the morning, drunk and exhausted.

“I’m going to smoke, do you want one?” Evan looked at him incredulously, as if that was a question that needed to be asked. “Alright, alright, don’t look at me like that. I may just have to skip the pot and move to the end of the night that both of us are definitely looking forward to.”

“Subtlety was always your strong suit.” Evan tucks a couple strands of Barty’s hair behind his ear, who smiled slowly.

“I really fucking love you, you know that?” Their voices are low in the room full of blaring lyrics in another language.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

***

Two joints in, Barty had danced his energy out, the glitter on his eyelids almost fading and sweat starting to bead on his forehead. Evan watched him, occasionally throwing a couple of bills and whistling at the man. Barty got Evan to sing, showing him vague phonetic translations of the lyrics he couldn’t understand. He was laughing as Evan struggled with the words, but it was full of admiration and mirth.

It was well past three in the morning, and the most disciplined of runners would be waking up to get on with their day soon. They had turned off their music, because their heads had already started hurting from the noise. Maybe their neighbours had a point.

Evan was sitting in the corner of one of their sofas, a cigarette between his lips. Barty was finally starting to come down from his high, boa clutched in both his hands. The man half-twirled, dropping himself onto the sofa right next to Evan, his head dropping onto his shoulder.

“Tonight was fun,” Barty had a soft, dazed smile on his face.

“Yeah, it was. Shame we have to get to work tomorrow.”

“Don’t even remind me,” He reaches for the cigarette, smoking it himself. They sit in silence, only the slow buzz of the thermostat filling the space between them.

“Я не думаю, что смогу жить без тебя.” Evan had a pulling feeling at the back of his mind that this meant something important to Barty; a confession, if you would.

“Tell me what that means, Bat.”

“I don’t think I could live without you. Year after year after year, you were the only constant I had. I’m so grateful for that. I’m so grateful for you, Evan.” Barty’s voice cracks slightly, and Evan turns to see the man crying. “Everyday I hope I don’t fuck this up with you, like I did all those years ago. I knew you liked me, but I wasn’t ready to accept my own feelings. Maybe I was scared to lose our friendship if it all went south.”

“But it hasn’t gone south, has it? You and me, here, right now. This is everything I could ever ask for. All I could dream of since I was fourteen. Barty, you couldn’t fuck this up even if you tried as hard as you could. I would love you regardless and I’ll be there to pick up every fucking piece, even if it hurts to.”

“Nothing I ever write will satiate my love for you, and I’m scared of that. The sheer magnitude of it is frightening.”

“Just knowing you love me is more than enough.”

“I think,” he pauses, seemingly trying to find anything to say. “I think we should get married, любимый.” Evan’s hand flies up to his mouth, trying to conceal his severely shocked expression.

“Yes. Yes, one hundred times, yes.” And so, sitting in the slow come-up of the sun, with a cigarette burning to its filter, they had gone and become the closest they’d ever been.

#любимый: darling #Это скучно.: it’s boring #Я люблю тебя: I love you #Роза: rose #солнышко: sun/ sunshine #Никакого самоконтроля говорю вам.” : no self control I tell you #шлюха: whore/slut #can you tell I wrote the last part in the dead of night #this was intended to be a codependency type of oneshot but we progressed to this #I feel like this is my Frankenstein #this is powered by katya lel and laufey #anyways leave feedback please and thank you #evan x barty #barty x evan #rosekiller #dead gay wizards #the marauders #slytherin skittles

[youhavehitawall]

Usually I turn on anon when I drop into someone’s ask box for the first time, but forget that

I’ve looked through your Backwater Downs tag, and I’m hooked, a gay OT3 with a mute character? Sign me up right now, I need more of them immediately, and I mean need, hand ‘em over, this is a robbery

Also, I’m assuming Backwater Downs is in Australia, but I haven’t seen it explicitly stated as such, definitely a place you can disappear and be pronounced dead when you’re still living in a town with what constitutes as “civilization”

Also also, I’ve only gotten a little taste of your lore on Ratchet’s family, and I’m curious as to whether or not all his siblings actually want him dead? I’m a sucker for complicated family dynamics

YAAAY im so glad you enjoy them theyre like my favourite ever guys in the whole universe :D :D (gets robbed) The main OT3 is so so real. Reg's laid-back lifestyle and artistic hobbies help Ratchet and Austin to find peace and rest after long eventful lives. Ratchet's fiery competitiveness encourages them to explore and push their endurance. Austin's quick wit and mule-like stubbornness keeps Reg and Ratchet mentally sharp and out of harm's way. They balance each other perfectly.

BWD is set in australia! It's deep in the Outback, vaguely inspired by the Grawin opal fields, but more in the West. the closest town is probably Halls Creek, and it's still a few hours from BWD, which is not on the map and never will be. It's not really called "backwater downs" - thats just what the residents call it. BWD is more a mining / farming patch of land where a few dozen cars have congregated for companionship. And yes, it would be very easy to disappear there and be declared dead forever! Especially if your family is on the other side of the planet.

Ratchet has five siblings, the oldest being Robyn and the youngest Firestorm. Robyn wanted him dead because the alternative was him leaving her, and she couldn't stand that. Her production siblings - Turner, Hawk, and Belle- follow her lead even if they don't agree.

Ratchet is four years younger than Robyn and her production, and Firestorm is two years younger than Ratchet. Their parents are not in the picture anymore. Of them, only these three remain. Ratchet doesn't know three of his sibs are dead and gone. Firestorm doesn't know his favourite big brother is alive. Robyn doesn't know much of anything, anymore, and spends her days in a listless haze travelling the far northern stretches of America completely alone.

Firestorm is the most affected. He loved all his siblings dearly. He organised a six-month search for Ratchet when he disappeared and organised his funeral after the second year, when Firestorm was only twenty-two. He's had to plan three funerals since and each one broke his heart. His oldest son, Rico, is named after Ratchet (whos legal name is actually Ricochet.) He doesn't know that Robyn tried to kill Ratchet, and he keeps in contact with her as much as he can. She's guilty and she lets the phone ring out.

Firestorm would welcome Ratchet home openly, any time, any condition. Even a body would be preferable to the endless sinister 'what if?' that lurks in his mind every single day. He held a funeral with an empty grave and after more than forty years he still expects Ricochet to be in the next room. Robyn knows Ricochet is alive and she knows he's terrified of her, and she knows Firestorm misses him and it's her fault. She wanted to keep her siblings close and now they're all split apart. She lets the phone ring out.

#backwater downs #food for thought #everytime i get an ask abt bwd i jump up and tap dance #cars fandom #cars pixar

[dragontamerno3]

DS9 S2 E20 - Maquis (Part 1) Very solid episode, thoroughly enjoyed it. I was thinking about taking a nap but I don’t think I can sleep after that cliffhanger lmao I do NOT want to like Dukat. I am putting my foot down and dragging my feet at the idea, but man I liked everything about him in this episode. From the way he snuck in and just appeared in Sisko’s quarters like a disappointed parent after a kid stayed out too late. The fact that he seemd genuinely appalled at the idea that Sisko thought he’d hurt Jake (tbf, I agree with Sisko here, but that’s a different thing entirely), to how he led Sisko to the issue without telling him what was up because he knew Sisko would never fully believe a Cardassian telling him that the Federation was starting a war. He toyed with Sisko in a way that ultimately harmless by joking about not being able to help fly the ship only to reveal seconds later that he already knew everything about the Runabouts. The way he stood up against the unknown Cardassian ships, actually pissed that there might be someone out there fighting Federation ships as blatant and public as they were (he didn’t say that but I doubt he’d be as angry if they did so in private), that too made me think he had more sides to him than Big Bad Evil Cardassian Overlord. Hell, he even admitted to having kids leaving him somewhat vulnerable. Fuck this man for making me like him.

I personally love shots/scenes were it all seems everything is fine and dandy before the world is rocked with a shit storm. I like it when we’re kicked into the action rather than when we fall into it so the scene were Kira and Jadzia are kind of joking about dates and general life stuff was chefs kiss to me. 

Also, this is just a side note, the dude who planted the thing on the Cardassian ship looked too much like Reg Barclay that I had to pause and check to see if it was him (later they named him so I didn’t have to) cause I did NOT have Reg joining a terrorist group on my bingo card.

This was another one of those times where I wasn’t sure if he was projecting too hard, if its a case of “Starfleet officers are all a step away from becoming murderhobos”, or if this was me being able to read too deeply into this but Hudson what suspicious from the second he arrived. He was trying WAY too hard to get Sisko to see how much the Federation had “abandoned” the various colonies, he didn’t seem shocked to find out that Samuel caused the destruction of the Bok’Nor (though he did seem surprised at his death), and he was way too level headed when the others wanted to start a fight in the meeting room. Everything about him said “I’m a leader of a militia.” I don’t blame Sisko for not seeing it, though, the man was seeing red just from the idea that all of this was happening and they were using HIS station to do it.  

To be clear, I fully think those that stayed behind in the treaty line (so in Cardassian space) do in fact have a right to defend themselves, but the moves made in this episode were straight up terrorism. They took the fight out of their home and involved people that had no dog in the fight. They endangered an entire station that is home to thousands of people, potentially, with their actions.

With the Vulcan lady I kept expecting her to be revealed as a Romulan as all of this is way more Romulan behavior than Vulcan, but I guess there are exceptions to every rule. I can appreciate the fear/hesitation Quark felt when she started to talk business with him. His morals are thin and often non existent but there are times when it’s clear that he does not want to be doing things and his face was screaming “what have I gotten myself into” after she told him. Kira’s stance is honestly to be expected but I was kind of disappointed at how little faith she has in the Federation after all this time.

And Odo basically wanting a military state for the station also doesn’t surprise me but it made me wonder how he could consider Kira a friend but still want to hold up the same laws that oppressed her people. Throwaway lines and thoughts that don’t entirely mesh with the rest of who they are.

8/10 - can’t wait to see where this goes

#star trek #star trek ds9 #ds9 #watchalong #star trek deep space nine #maquis

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

It’s Over - Part 7B (Hunter)

Summary: Hunter and Myri finish reminiscing 

A/N: Hello Lovelies, 

Lol did you think you would have to wait forever for the second parter?

Enjoy the finale. LOVE OO.

It’s Over(Kix)   |   Pt. 2(Rex)  |   Pt. 3(Wolffe)   |   Pt. 4(Cody)   |   Pt. 5(Crosshair)  |   Pt. 6 (Tech)

Warnings: mentions of clones right, killing, apology, fluff, injury, burn, shock, passing out, kissing, I think that’s all of it, if I miss any please let me know. 

AO3 Link   |   Words: 3,770 |   Previous 

Main Masterlist   |   It’s Over Masterlist

“Although, I’m still ticked off at you for what you said to her, I can understand what led you to such an unfortunate turn of words” Lurwa offered.

Tala wiped a tear from her eye, “Why did you think you were so unworthy of love, Hunter? Why were you so quick to shut it down before you even had a chance to explore it?”

“I’m a defective clone, I was reminded of that everyday by the Regs, by the Kaminoans. Every chance they got to experiment on us, they did. Who could love someone like that?”

“Me” Myri spoke up.

“Me too” Lurwa smirked.

“And me” Tala smiled, “Your experiences don’t define your future, Hunter. They simply help you to understand who you are.”

“So what happened after that, did you guys talk?”

“Well …” Hunter smirked as he looked at Myri

- - - - - - * - - - - - - * - - - - - - 

“…Despite the hopefulness the Jedi Council held, the suspicion raised by a very brave Republic soldier and GAR trooper were the first steps in proving what we now know to be the truth. Supreme Chancellor Palpatine was the one behind the war. He worked hand in hand with Count Dooku, this shocking revelation has truly opened the eyes of the Republic and the Jedi Council …”

“What’s going on?” Myri asked one of the other medics, as she walked in late to the briefing. 

“Senator … Sorry Chancellor Bail Organa is outlining how Chancellor Palpatine was behind everything. Starting the war, creating clones …” Jasper turned his head towards her, eyes wide, “e-very-thing” he stated slowly. 

She couldn’t believe it, all those deaths on both Republic and Separatists’ sides were due to one man. Due to his greed. 

“… The Jedi Council wishes for me to convey our deepest sympathies, and a stark reminder, as we can see the Dark Side of the Force is dangerous, and able to cloud the minds of many. We will all be entering an era of uncertainty and difficulty as we move past this shameful history…”

Myri glanced around the room, using the higher elevation to her advantage trying to find the Bad Batch, only to feel a tug on her hand, she turned to see no one, until her eyes glanced down. Omega’s eyes were wide with fear and uncertainty sitting. She squeezed Omega’s hand, giving her a reassuring smile, “It’s okay, sweetie.”

Omega simply nodded as she pressed further into Myri’s side. 

“… There is a light at the end of this dark tunnel, today we are happy to announce steps have already been implemented to shut down the behavioural chips in each and every clone trooper …” Myri glanced over to the head of the Medic Department, Lama Su, raising an eyebrow to the calm demeanour of the Kaminoan, not that there was any other expression she usually gave. 

“… It is my great privilege to announce, as of today, every clone trooper is recognized as a citizen of the Republic, having all rights and responsibilities appointed them as any other member of society. We offer our thanks on behalf of the Republic for your sacrifices, for the loss’ you have endured, and for your willingness and readiness to support each and every civilian. Please know, we will forever be in your debt, we will never be able to pay for all you have done for us. However we hope these efforts will show our appreciation. In the coming weeks and months, each trooper will have a chance to meet with a representative to discuss what your future will look like …”

Hunter couldn’t believe his ears, they were citizens with rights, with a future. His eyes roved about until he could see Myri standing in the room above the general assembly alongside the other medics and Kaminoan scientists, there was an odd expression on her face, it was a mixture of shock, joy, sorrow, and doing her best to understand what was happening. He felt a tap on his arm, as he turned to look at Tech, shrugging his shoulder. Tech simply handed him the datapad in his hands without saying anything further. 

‘Clone Unit 99, you have received new orders, please see Jedi Master Shaak Ti for mission debriefing at 1900 hours.’

No matter what Chancellor Organa had to say, there was still work to be done.

“… We look forward to a new peaceful era.”

“I can’t believe it” Echo mumbled as he stood there amongst the sea of troopers, all shocked by the news they had just received. 

“Despite what we may have heard there is still work to be done” Hunter nodded towards Tech.

“It appears we have been assigned another mission”

“What!” Wrecker’s voice boomed in the open arena, all four of them shushed him in unison. 

“Perhaps we should continue this in our barracks” Tech offered, Hunter seemingly nodded, as his eyes focused on Myri’s movements. 

“I have to take care of something first, I’ll meet you guys there” he took off hoping to head off Myri. He rushed through the halls, pushing his way past troopers, until he got to her med, he opened the door, hoping to find her there. 

“Something I can help you with?” A clone trooper medic came up to him. 

“I was looking for Medic Kambe?”

“She’s currently in a meeting with Lama Su, she should be back shortly. I can tell her to comm you when she’s back”

“Uh, sure. Tell her to contact Hunter”

He headed out of med, there was no point in waiting around; he wondered if he’d even get a chance to talk to her before they had to leave. 

“Hunter?” 

He looked up to see her heading towards him, Omega still clinging to her side, he wasn’t sure if it was because of the announcement or because of what he resolved to say, but she looked even more beautiful, his eyes focused back on Omega’s concerned expression, “Everything okay?” He motioned between the two of them,

“Yeah, just everything’s up in the air right now” Myri squeezed Omega’s hand, getting her attention, “Megs go inside, and start setting up the scans”

“Will do”

Hunter watched as Omega shuffled off, focusing his attention on Myri, “Is she okay?”

“She’s nervous. She’s unsure of where she’ll fall in, and since she’s no longer Kaminoan ‘property’ she’s wondering where she belongs.”

“I think we’re all feeling that way”

“Lama Su informed her, once they make a decision regarding housing for everyone, she won’t be able to stay here anymore. No one will.” Myri crossed her arms, glancing around, she wasn’t sure why she was telling him this, but she felt as though she needed to “I decided to adopt her, I haven’t discussed it with Lama Su as yet, but I will once I talk it over with her”

“You … you what?” Hunter’s voice sounded shocked and disapproving.

“I’m sorry does that not meet your standards?”

“What? No. That’s not …”

“It seems as though you’re trying to make decisions for others again”

“No, that’s not it.” He closed his eyes, wishing there was someone who could shoot him in the foot every time he opened his mouth, he let out a sigh, opening his eyes focusing on hers, “I was surprised, that’s all. I think you’d …” Hunter cleared his throat, fighting the warmth crawling up his face “I think you’ll be an amazing mom. Everything you do is amazing.”

Myri felt her face flush, she did her best to suppress the smile that wanted to erupt, “Umm… thanks. Anyway, why are you here?”

“I needed to talk to you, we got another mission and as soon as we get our debriefing we’ll be shipping out.”

“Oh … I see”

“And before we take off there’s something I need to say, is there somewhere we can talk privately?”

Myri nodded, motioning for him to follow her, they stood in an alcove of to the side, hardly used by anyone and forgotten by most. She motioned for him to continue.

“Listen, um …” Hunter rubbed the back of his neck before clearing his throat, “about what I said last night, I was wrong to presume to know what you were thinking or feeling. Truth is I never imagined someone as amazing and wonderful as you would even look at me as anything more than a friend. I’ll simply say this, there isn’t a day that goes by where you’re not the first thing I think of in the morning and the last thought in my day. Every moment I get to spend with you, every conversation, every look from your beautiful eyes, are all moments I treasure. I don’t know what the future holds, but if you are willing, maybe we can go to the Celebratory Gala together, once they decide on a date.” His comm beeped, reminding him to head back to the barracks before going for the briefing, “I have to go, the decision is yours. If I ruined what could’ve been between us, I’ll understand; and if that’s the case, no matter how long it’ll take, I’ll work hard to earn your trust back.”

He took a chance, reaching for her hand, holding it in his; the weight of her hand in his sent a warmth through his chest. He smirked as he tested his luck, leaning forward and placing a kiss on her cheek. He gave her hand a squeeze before he headed off. 

Myri stood in the alcove shocked to her core, she hadn’t expected him to make such a declaration, even after he learned she was going to adopt Omega. She needed time to think things through, time to see if her anger was just her hurt ego or if she really couldn’t forgive Hunter and his attitude.

- - - - - - * - - - - - - * - - - - - - 

“Wow, did you do the paperwork for her adoption, yet?” Tala asked leaning forward, glancing around to see where Omega was.

“Yeah, we’re just waiting for the all clear, letting me know the adoption went ahead.”

“She’s quite happy and excited” Hunter continued, “She keeps calling Myri, mom.”

“Awww that’s so sweet” Lurwa chuckled, “I can’t imagine having a kid, but if I do have one, I hope they’re as sweet as her.” She motioned to Omega, smiling.

“What was your answer to his statement?” Tala teased

- - - - - - * - - - - - - * - - - - - - 

Tech landed the ship roughly in Kamino’s hangar, as the landing gears locked in place, Wrecker grabbed Hunter and placed him across his shoulders, Crosshair opened the door to the ship, yelling out commands to the medics waiting by the hangar door with a gurney and medical supplies. Echo commed Myri before landing, telling her to prepare for an emergency medical crisis, explaining as best as he could. 

Myri ran to the Marauder, watching as Wrecker placed Hunter ever so gently on the gurney. She knew what Echo had stated in his message, but hearing it and seeing the condition Hunter was in were two different things. She prided herself on being able to separate her emotions from the task at hand, but the injuries he sustained had shocked her to her very core. Her heart felt as though it was being squeezed in a vice grip, her vision was becoming blurry making it difficult for her to identify the injuries, she cleared her throat doing her best to regain her focus “What … what happened?”

“There was a holdout of remaining Separatists droids and followers of Count Dooku, they implement a fail safe to make sure none would be captured alive” Tech explained as they headed out of the hangar at a quick pace to the med lab. 

“There was an explosion, Hunter shielded us. Taking the brunt of the force” Echo added. 

She took in a deep breath, keeping the tears out of her eyes, “Um … we’ll need … we’ll need …” her hands shook as she grabbed the cloth cutter, to remove the unburnt portions of his bodysuit, the bruises on his face, hands, arms and chest were starting to form as more of his skin became revealed after the cloth was cut away. His beautiful skin, now marred with cuts, blood, pieces of shrapnel, it was all hitting too close to home for her. 

“Medic Myri, what are you orders?”

“Well ummm … we’ll …”

She felt a hand on her shoulder, as a another hand took the cutter out of her own hand, “Myri, I got this” she looked at Jasper who offered an encouraging smile, “Could one of you guys take her away from here?” He motioned to her office, Cross nodded guiding Myri over. 

It was all a bit of a blur, she had no idea how long she was sitting there or how Hunter was doing, everything came back into focus when Crosshair handed her a canteen of water, she nodded her thanks as she took a deep swallow.

“You love him, don’t you?” Cross smirked as he looked at her, the shock from her question making her cough up the water she had just taken in. 

“Excuse me?” She asked as she tried to avoid choking. 

“You heard me”

“Why do you care what I feel?”

“Vod’ika don’t be difficult, wouldn’t you like to be able to admit it freely at least once?”

Myri took another swig of water, letting out a sigh, “You’re right. I should be able to admit it freely just once, but I want him to be able to hear it first. It’s only right.”

Cross nodded as he smirked, shifting his toothpick from one side to the next, “That’s true.” The door slid open, Tech walked in followed by Echo, they both turned their heads to focus on the news they had for them.

“How is he?” Myri asked finding her voice to be steadier than she expected.

“Medic Jasper has him set up in a bacta tank, thankfully his burns were mostly superficial. He’ll have one or two scars, but he says two days in the tank and he’ll be as good as new.”

She let out a deep breath of relief, she hadn’t realized she was barely breathing the entire time she was in the office. She stood hoping to go out to see Hunter, only to find the room spining, she attempted to find her footing but she wasn’t fast enough before everything went dark. 

- - - - - - * - - - - - - * - - - - - - 

“You fainted?” Lurwa looked shocked

“If Wrecker was seriously injured, would you be able to keep it together?”

“Fair point”

Tala didn’t say much, as she remembered how she felt seeing Echo for the first time after they rescued him, the shock she felt, “The fact you were able to keep it together for as long as you did is impressive. I don’t think I handled seeing Echo again after his rescue all that well.”

“You weren’t that bad” Hunter offered.

“Hunter, don’t you remember I was crying almost every ten minutes.”

“Well at least you were passed out for a few days”

“Hey!” Myri smacked Hunter’s arm, “You were suppose to keep that between us”

“Wait, how long were you passed out for?”

“Well … the thing is …”

- - - - - - * - - - - - - * - - - - - - 

 Myri opened her eyes, taking in the ceiling, she blinked a few times trying to adjust to the light, when the medic droid came into view, scanning her.

“Scan complete. The fainting spell was due to an emotional turmoil. You’ll be fine.” Just as quickly as the droid came into view, it left. Myri shifted on the bed, when tiny footsteps came rushing to her side.

Omega had wide eyes at seeing her, “Are you alright?”

She chuckled ruffling the young girl’s hair, “Nothing a good rest couldn’t cure.” Myri rubbed her eyes, “How long was I out?”

“Four days” Hunter’s voice called to her, she sat still as he came into view, his hand resting on Omega’s shoulder, motioning for her to head out. As soon as she was gone, he turned his attention to Myri, “How are you feeling? Heard you had… difficulties when you saw me come off the ship?” He asked as he sat down beside her, his hand resting on the other side of her.

“I should be asking you that question, how are your wounds?” Her hand instinctively rested against his chin, tilting it from side to side, the bruises were gone, the cut he had on his cheek had been healed. Her hand shifted down his shoulder to his arms and hands, noticing all the cuts and bruises had vanished. Her hand then shifted over his chest, she could feel the outlinings of a healed burn through his bodysuit.

Hunter was doing his best to remain calm, he felt his face flush, and a warmth began to grow within him, as her hands explored his upper body. He wanted to cup her face and kiss her with all his might in that moment, but he wasn’t going to overstep. Not again. 

“Got an all clear yesterday” he offered, hoping that would ease her nerves.

Myri nodded as she focused her attention on Hunter’s face, “When I saw you … lying there …” she felt her lips begin to tremble, “I … all I could smell was the burnt flesh …” she looked away as the tears began to well up. 

He couldn’t hold it back anymore cupping her cheek, “I’m fine, cyar’ika. I’m alright.”

She nodded wiping away the tears, before throwing her arms around Hunter’s neck pulling him closer, “I could’ve lost you”

“It’s alright” Hunter wrapped his arms around her, the armour that usually would’ve been in the way was now stored in his bunk, allowing him to pull her as close as possible to his chest. “I’m here, you haven’t lost me. You’ll never lose me.”

“Yes” she mumbled as she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

“What was that cyar’ika?”

“Yes, I’ll go to the gala with you”

Hunter felt his heart grow three times, if that was possible, and as much as he rejoiced in hearing her answer, he wanted her to know he wasn’t scared anymore, not for something monumental, “How about the three of us go together?”

“Three”

“You, Omega and I … like ... a family?”

Myri pulled back a smile etched on her face, “I think she’d love that; I know I would.”

Their eyes locked on each other, the tension between them growing, “Does this mean you forgive me?” Hunter glanced from her eyes to her lips.

She smirked as she pulled him closer, her lips pressed against his, hoping this was enough of an answer to his question.

Hunter was shocked for a moment, his eyes wide, as he realized she was kissing him, as quickly as he realized what was happening, he took a chance to reciprocate. He shifted, using his height to tower over her a little, taking advantage of Myri trying to stretch, he guided her to lie back down on the med without breaking their kiss. 

He was lost in thought and completely forgot where they were, as he felt her soft, warm lips against his, allowing him to deepen the kiss. The tips of her fingers trailing down his spine, as her other hand carded its way through his hair, as the soft tickle of her breath was evident beneath his nose. It was everything he could’ve imagined and more. His hand shifted till it rested against her waist, caressing her side. He wanted more, she wanted more, and he was ready to express more, if it hadn’t been for the cough that called his attention from the end of her bed. 

Both froze as they came back to their senses and remembered where they were, Hunter pulled his lips away from hers, he smirked at seeing her face flushed from the kiss they had shared and from the embarrassment of being caught. He could see she was doing her best to hide the laughter that wanted to break free, he simply chuckled, placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Guess we’ll have to continue this later” he whispered

“Looking forward to it”

He shifted off of her, helping her to sit up in the bed, as Crosshair stood there leaning against the wall, “I see you guys made up, well I just came to let you know Wrecker and Lurwa have a table waiting in the mess hall. I’ll just tell everyone you are not quite recovered yet.” He winked at Myri fighting back the smile that wanted to appear on his lips, “We’ll make sure to keep Omega busy, and away from your bunk room, Myri.” Crosshair smirked as he moved away from his position, “You can continue whatever you were doing” he motioned with his hand, as he chuckled to himself putting a new toothpick in his mouth, “I’ll make sure to put some food aside, no doubt you’ll be hungry after” he called out as the door slid closed.

Neither said anything, both a little shocked by Crosshair’s thoughtfulness, until they both started laughing. Myri rested her forehead against his chest, reminding herself that he was there with her, she shifted her head to look him in the eyes ready to declare what had been in her heart since the beginning, “I love you, Hunter”

“I love you” he pressed another kiss to her lips, cupping her cheeks, hoping to deepen the kiss and continue where they had left off. 

She pulled back, smirking, “I think we should go somewhere more private” she took his hand in hers and guided him away from med and to her quarters.

- - - - - - * - - - - - - * - - - - - - 

“That’s the whole of it” Hunter smirked as he pulled Myri against him, “I have to say it may have taken us a few years to get here, but I’m glad we’re finally here.”

She looked into Hunter’s eyes smiling from ear to ear, “I couldn’t agree more” she leaned up, kissing his lips.

“Ahem!” Tech cleared his throat, “Please remember some of us are still single”

“Hunter, mom, you guys wanna dance with me?” Omega held out her hand to the two of them.

“Sure, sweetie” Myri answered standing from her seat, taking one of Omega’s hands, while Hunter took the other. 

“They really are an adorable family aren’t they?” Tala looked at Lurwa, who simply nodded, “Tech wanna dance?” She asked looking at him.

“No, thank you. I am not in the mood.”

“She didn’t show up huh?”

“To whom are you referring?”

“Alright, don’t say anything, I’m going to find Echo, see if he’s up for one last dance.”

“I’ll join you, I’m gonna find Wrecker.”

Tech sat there alone at the table, nursing his drink as his eyes focused on Hunter, Myri and Omega dancing together, wishing that could be him. 

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@liadamerondjarin​ @badbatch-simp24​ @spicymcnuggies​ @lady-ren​ @firstofficerwiggles​ @darkangel4121​ @discofern​ @kavecika​ @monako-jinn-stories​ @ladykatakuri​ @avathebestx​ @theroguesully​ @furyhellfire66​ @carodealmeida​ @ciramaris​ @sprout-fics​ @twinkofthedink​ @dindjarin-mandalorian​ 

#it's over #Part 7B #Hunter #hunter x oc #hunter x reader #hunter x you #tbb hunter #tbb #tbb fanfiction #Bad Batch #badbatch #the bad batch #bad batch hunter #the bad batch hunter #bad batch hunter x reader #bad batch hunter x you #the bad batch hunter x you #Omega #wrecker #bad batch wrecker #clone trooper wrecker #WRECKER FANFICTION #tbb wrecker #crosshair #clone trooper crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #bad batch crosshair #tbb crosshair #tech #the bad batch tech

[achliegh]

The Major League

Masterlist

TW: Drinking, mentions of sex, mentions of cheating, mentions of surgery, tattoos, if there is anything else just let me know :)

Baseball Boys meeting and falling in Love

What could go wrong… ;)

Beta: @punkkkkboi

Most Characters belong to: @lumosinlovelove

Chapter 13

Feathered Hotel, 2020

Leo was warm, having drank a couple drinks he was just happy to be lounging on one of the fancy couches in the lobby with his boyfriend under his arm who was very cuddly, surrounded by his friends just talking. Remus and Reg were on either side of them on the couch with Nado, Kuny, Sirius, James, and Lily all pulling up chairs while Thomas, Noelle, Finn and Clay all sat on the ground. They were across the room from the bar but a nice lady kept bringing them drinks when they asked. Maybe they hired her for the night because he doesn’t remember that being an option the past few days he's been here. 

“No way! The Percy Jackson books were way better than the Henry Puffer books!” Thomas and Finn were currently arguing over something he could give less of a shit of. He read the Percy Jackson books and hated them with every fiber of his being. As someone who is from a family where they actually practice that stuff. He never read the Henry Puffer books because they bored him. 

“No Henry Puffer was better because it was longer, I got more out of it.” 

“Percy Jackson was more fun to read and didn't just focus on some kid who was basically handed everything on a gold plate because he was “the chosen one” it was lame.” Finn faces him, his thigh resting on Leo’s foot which was kind of annoying. Logan wasn’t paying attention to them at all, just scrolling on tiktok on his phone, his FYP was mostly sports stuff but also strangely enough… FNAF. 

“Hey can we talk about something different? Maybe play a game or something before these two idiots tear each other faces off?” Reg says with everyone else agreeing and the two idiots just grumbling about how now one else understands them. 

“What game do we play?” Sirius asks.

“Something not childish.” Remus throws in. Leo takes this as his chance. 

“Well, I know it’s not not childish but I’ve never played Never Have I Ever before.” 

“Neither have I.” Clay looks at his brother and smiles before leaning his head on Finn's shoulder. 

“I mean it isn’t a bad game, we can play. Just take a drink every time you’ve done something someone else hasn’t. Who wants to go first.” James is pointing at everyone before he stops on Reg. “How about little ole Regulus.” 

“Okay, Never have I ever had sex.” He smiles as he watches everyone drink, everyone except Leo and Logan. “Hey did you hear me?” 

“Yeah, I heard you.” Leo says and Logan nods. 

“You two have been together for months and you haven’t had sex?” Finn looks at them surprised. 

“Nope. Does that mean we are next?” Logan stretches his arms over his head and sits up more, bringing his feet underneath him. 

“One of you.” James puts his arm around his pregnant wife who is drinking water with a bit of mio tonight. She looked tired but happy. 

“Umm, Okay! Never have I ever… had surgery?” Leo tried to think of something he’s never done and that was the first thing that came to mind. He watches as Sirius and Reg both drink along with Lily and Remus. “Stories?” 

“Tonsils.” Reg and Sirius say at the same time. 

“I had a nose job.” Lily states, James looks at her confused. 

“I didn’t know that.” 

“It was for my deviated septum.” She kisses his cheek smiling. He nods for a second before looking back into the group. 

“Broken collar bone, my gallbladder was removed and I had to have my nose fixed.” He swirls his drink around, looking up to see them all staring at him. “Okay and I broke my fist too so there was that, and wisdom teeth, almost forgot.” 

“Oh I forgot that counts.” Thomas takes a drink along with Noelle and Finn. Remus just smiles a little. 

“My turn!” Kuny says his goal is to get Leo to drink and he knows a great way to do that. “Never have I ever Flirted with a friend so terrible that she stopped being friends with me and now runs the largest Instagram fanpage for me.” He sits there and smiles while Leo glares. 

“Is that even allowed!?” He takes a drink. Snickering ensues and he just sighs, plopping his cheek on Logan’s head. 

“I’ll go.” Sirius says, “Let’s see, never have I ever done illegal drugs.” Everyone drinks but him. “You guys are terrible influences. Especially you.” He points at Reg. 

“Wh- me!? I tried them with Clay!” 

“I just didn’t want you to be a hard-ass like your brother.” Clay says nonchalantly. “No offense Sirius.” 

“A little taken.” Sirius watches the young player shrug. He rolls his eyes. “Who wants to go next?” Finn hums like he is thinking and everyone waits for him. 

“Never have I ever,” He looks at Logan and smirks. “Committed arson.” Remus, Lily, Reg, and Logan all drink. Leo turns to his boyfriend and friend a bit shocked.

“When!?” 

“After I moved out I burned my parents' invasive bushes.” Reg says. 

“I burned down a billboard on the highway that said some creepy ass shit about abortions, Noelle was there! Why didn’t you drink?” Logan exclaims. 

“I didn’t commit arson, I was just a witness.” Logan just rolls his eyes. 

“I’ll go next. Never have I ever cheated in Uno.” Thomas slurs out. Everyone but him drinks and he just sits there shocked. Leo watches him become a bit teary because he's drunk and puts his face on Noelle's shoulder. “I knew you were all liars.” 

“Never have I ever gotten a tattoo.” James says, he obviously isn’t waiting for anyone to decide his turn anymore. Noelle, Logan, Leo, Clay, Reg, and Remus all drink. James raises an eyebrow at them all waiting for explanations. 

“I have a stick and poke on my neck, it just looks like a blob now. Used to be a micro skull.” Remus lifts his glass to James before taking his drink. James then looks at Reg. 

“I have a smiley face on my right ass cheek. Got it when I was drunk in highschool.” Sirius just shakes his head at his little brother. 

“I have Icarus and the sun because that’s the story my Mam always compares me to.” He lifts up his shirt  a beautiful greek style black and white tattoo of Icarus flying towards the sun on the right side of his chest. Icarus stretching from the center to the left side. 

“Wow… does Leo have a matching one?” Thomas says as Clay puts his shirt back down. 

“No, mine is different and I won’t be showing it. I think Remus is the only one here who has seen it all. Thomas has maybe caught a glimpse in the locker room. It’s the reason why I am always either wearing long sleeves or my compression sleeve. It's an entire arm's sleeve and that's all I will say.”  Leo wraps his arm around Logan once again after leaning forward to set his glass down. 

“Logan hasn’t seen it?” Reg asks and Logan just shakes his head. “Alright then. What’s yours Logan?” He lifts up his shirt and on his hip you can see the outline of a thick sun, eight dots representing the rays of the sun and a crescent moon underneath it. 

“It's a symbol for harmony, Noelle has the same one at the base of her neck.” He gestures towards her, she is wearing a tank top so she just points to it and Reg smiles. “It’s an important thing in our family. It’s a native symbol my mom's entire family has as well. 

“Clay, do you want to go next?” James says, Clay hasn’t been saying much which isn’t like him. Clay and James became really close friends after Clay beat James in a shot contest. Ever since then they have been close in the, I am gonna bully you and if anyone else does I'll throw hands, type of way. 

“Never have I ever… uh… been cheated on?” Nado and Remus are the only two to drink. “That's good, I’d be worried if more of you had that experience. What happened?” He looks at Nado. 

“I didn’t realize they wanted an open relationship… so I found them with someone else. I’m not mad about it, it was just a big miscommunication.” He leans back in his chair and crosses his legs. “No biggie.” 

“What's a biggie?” Leo and Clay speak at the same time. 

“No big deal is what no biggie means.” 

“Ohhhh.” They all look at Remus. 

“High school drama. I was dating someone and they wanted to fuck around so they did without telling me.” He stands up yawning. “I think I’m gonna head to bed. Goodnight guys.” He finished his drink before heading towards the elevator. Sirius, James and Lily followed not long after. 

“Wanna go to bed?” Leo looks down at Logan who is already dozing off, he shakes him a tiny bit watching his eyes flutter back open. He smiles, Logan’s long lashes still covering most of his eyes from this angle. “Let's get you to bed yeah?” Logan nods and stands up, twisting his torso cracking his back. 

“Let's go.” Logan starts walking towards the elevators and as soon as Leo catches up to him he has fused himself to Leo’s side under his arm. Leo just smiles, they stand in the elevator after picking the third floor. Their silence is welcomed with how loud it was downstairs. Logan was rubbing his cheek on Leo’s shirt, his arm was around his waist and pressing his fingers into Leo’s side as if playing the piano. 

“Can I see your tattoo?” Leo looks down at the other man, he runs his fingers through Logan’s hair, scratching his scalp lightly as he does. 

“Maybe tomorrow, at your place. Is that okay?” Logan nods and yawns, making Leo yawn too. They walk out of the elevator down to Logan’s room which he shares with Finn, they go inside and Logan flops face first on the bed, his hair flying everywhere. Leo sits on the edge of the bed and pats his back. “You need to change.” 

“I’ll sleep in this.” Logan speaks into the bed and kicks his slides off the end of it. Leo helps him under the covers, tucking him in around the sides as Logan starts to drift off again, his face smashed into the soft hotel pillow. He leans over and kisses his forehead. “I love you.” Logan mumbles. Leo stands there for a second, smiling to himself. He didn’t know if Logan would even remember saying that in the morning, it was the first time he ever said it to Leo. 

He would cherish it forever. 

“I love you too, and I’ve been dying to say that.” he whispers, watching his lover's face relax as he fully falls asleep. Not being able to help himself he kisses that soft tan cheek again before leaving to go to his own room. 

He felt like he was walking on clouds. 

Feathered Hotel, 2020

They were back in Jackson’s hotel room, his roommate was out for a bit longer that night. He was lying down between Kuny’s legs, back to chest, with his head on his chest as he watched the other man play animal crossing on his yellow switch. 

“Go punch a villager.” He suggests and feels an amused breath on the top of his head before feeling a soft kiss on the same spot. 

“I like my villagers, I don’t want to hit them.” 

“Please, for me!” He tips his head back to pout up at Kuny who just shakes his head, his lips twitching up just a bit. He keeps pouting until Kuny sighs.

“Okay, pick one.” Jackson smiles and looks around as Kuny’s character who is dressed to the max in random shit runs around collecting junk from the ground. He passes a couple villagers that don’t seem that interesting, then he sees a stupid looking cat and snorts. 

“That one.” 

“I’m not hitting Raymond! He’s the best villager I have!” 

“No Ankha is, now hit him with your net!” 

“You only like her because she frowns all the time.” 

“And?” 

“... Fine.” Jackson smiles as he watches Kuny smack Raymond over the head with a net. Laughing at how dumb this all is. 

“Oh god, I always thought this game was stupid but I’m starting to love it.” 

“I was never allowed to play videogames when I was a kid so coming to America I really gamed a lot.” Jackson looks up again, Kuny wasn’t allowed to do really anything as a kid. He has learned over the past few months of living with him that he wasn’t allowed to watch TV much or really have any fun. His mom was the one who put him in baseball and Kuny hated it because his dad hated it. 

“Well, now you can do anything you want. What else do you want to do that you never got to as a kid.” 

“Watch movies, mostly like Disney and what's the other one?” 

“Pixar? Dreamworks?” 

“Yeah those. I want to watch them.” 

“I can get a Disney Plus subscription and we can watch them all.” Kuny stops playing for a moment, leaning forward he keeps his switch in one hand and hugs Nado tightly around the neck. “What's this?” 

“Thank you… Really Nado, thank you.” They stay there like that, minutes pass, Nado just holds Kuny’s arms and relaxes. “You’re amazing… but we can’t watch any until a special day.”

“You’re a sweetass, now let's hit Raymond again!” 

“So violent.” 

“You like it though.” They move back to how they were before and Kuny fuflills his wish of hitting Raymond again. Jackson laughs and wiggles around as he does. “Can I play for a bit?” He sits up a bit more so his back is to Kuny’s chest. 

“You’re just going to be mean to my villagers!” Kuny rests his chin on Jackosn’s shoulder and just watches his screen as he starts fishing. 

“If I promise that I won’t can I? I wanna fish.” Thinking about it for a few ticks of the clock Kuny sighs and hands him the switch. “For real!” 

“I’ll take it away once you bop someone.” Nado takes the device from him, he rests his arms around the other’s waist and watches him try to figure out how to fish. He was sleepy, it was a long night. He had a good time but not only was his social battery drained but so was his physical one. He closes his eyes for a split second. 

Jackson is wandering around Kuny’s little village, it was so sweet and bright just like the man sitting behind him. He looks over at the brunette and smiles. He was asleep, face completely at peace. He reaches his hand back and twirls one of those loose curls in his fingers, tugging slightly. He doesn’t wake. Cute. Nado just gets comfy and keeps playing, bonking anyone in his way as he goes to catch butterflies. Eventually he gets bored and turns off the hand held tossing it on the bed beside them. 

“Uns, we should go to sleep.” He shakes his shoulder a bit making the other scrunch his nose and huff. 

“I am sleeping. “ He buries his face into the crook of Nado’s neck and takes a deep breath. “Comfy.” 

“”You’re gonna get a crick in your neck and you aren’t in your room. Kim could be back any minute and I doubt he wants to walk in on us all cuddled up.” 

“He’d be so lucky.” Nado goes to move away and the most embarrassing whine comes from him as the cold air of the hotel room hits him. “I’m tired. I don’t wanna go all the way down  stairs.” 

“It’s one floor and there is an elevator. If you want I can go with you.” Jackson watches as Kuny basically turns to liquid, getting himself off the bed. Finding his shoes he puts them on as Kuny does the same. They go out to the elevators. Pressing the button they wait in silence, Kuny playing on his phone while Jackson looks out the large window to the city covered in lights. 

They both look back when a ding rings their ears. Kim walks out, nodding at them before walking down the hall. They get on the elevator and as soon as the doors close Kuny is falling into Nado’s arms trapping him against the wall. 

“Oof, a little warning would have been nice.” Jackson lets Kuny lay on him vertically even if it’s slightly cutting off his airflow, patting his butt for fun to the rhythm of some random song in his head. His butt was so firm. They were only going down one floor so when they heard that familiar ding again Kuny stepped away. He looked so exhausted. 

They get to his room that he shares with James and once again, Jackson is squashed, this time he is pushed on the bed and landed on top of. 

“Moose, you’re so heavy.” He strains, he's laying on his stomach with Kuny laying on his back on top of him. 

“You like it though.” He mocks. Jackson just rolls his eyes and turns over making Kuny flops on his side. “Stay with me tonight? James is staying in Lily’s room.” Kuny rolls over so he is spooning him. “Please.” 

“I need to go back to my room, but I’ll stay until you’re asleep.” He moves a bit to get more comfortable, smiling as Kuny breathes on the back of his neck while his hand is sprawled on his diaphragm. 

They lay there together, just enjoying the company of another person. Both of them close their eyes and just relax. Kuny was already half asleep. 

“Do you think I’ll meet your family someday?” Kuny whispers, his lips brushing the hair on the back of Nado’s neck. “Can you tell me about them?” 

“They want to meet you, especially my younger brother. He’s about 16 now, turns 17 the day before Thanksgiving this year.” Kuny hums and Jackson decides to keep going. “My parents are divorced, they still have a really good relationship though. Have been friends since elementary school. Got married, had three kids and realized they didn’t love each other like that. They had my sister and I really young. Then my brother when I was 12 and my sister was 14.” 

“What are their names?” 

“Mom’s name is Sally, Dad’s name is Kent. My sister is called Marci but her real name is Marcelli. Younger brother is Donavan.” 

“Marcelli, Jackson and Donavan. Those are nice names.” 

“My mom got remarried after I got drafted, his name is Mich. He’s really nice and actually good friends with my dad so he was the best man at their wedding. Dad never got remarried but he has been dating a woman he went to college with for a long time. Her name is Gwen. I think she has two kids of her own but I’ve never gotten the chance to meet them.” 

“Your family sounds so nice.” 

“Yeah. My sister actually quit her job recently to go to beauty school, every time she visits me she does my hair in some ridiculous style.” 

“I bet you look beautiful.” 

“What about your family?” 

“... Mom doesn’t work. Dad works in the gold mines across the country.” 

“Siblings?” 

“Just me.” Jackson nods and moves his hand on top of the large one on his abdomen. 

“I talk to my family about you all the time.” He feels Kuny huff a smile on his neck. “I told them you’re annoying and stinky.” 

“Glad you think so highly of me.” 

“I also told them,” He rolls over and faces Kuny cupping his warm cheek. “That you’re smart and funny, you take care of me and when you need help you ask instead of trying to figure it out by yourself. You smile when you see me no matter how I look… you care about me.” Kuny opens his eyes and looks directly in Jackson’s own. 

“So much, I care so much for you. Nothing will ever change that.” He pulled Nado closer by his back and pressed their foreheads together. “I wish I could talk to my family about you… well I can but just my mom. She always asks me if I have found my safe place yet and,” He looks away for a second before moving his hand from Nado’s back to lace his fingers into the hand on his face. Kissing the back of that tattooed hand. “I think that place is you.”

#leo knut #finn o'hara #sweater weather #logan tremblay #o’knutzy #lumosinlove #the major league #coast to coast #clayton bruss #remus lupin #sirius black #regulus black #thomas walker #noelle tremblay #jackson nadeau #evgenia kanaeva

[specialbrewbutterbeer]

The Marital Home (Regulus Black x Reader) (Part III)

Word Count: 1681

TW: Alcohol/alcoholism, sex mentioned but nothing graphic, arranged marriage, dysfunctional relationship, anxiety,

AN: Okay! So i am loving writing this, I have at least one more part planned, maybe two. This is where things start to turn, and it might seem odd right now, but all will become clear in the next part/s. I hope you enjoy! Please please please do send in requests, I'm gonna open for some MCU characters as well so go check the Requests page for who, and as always give me some suggestions and ideas for this little series as well! Feedback is really really appreciated! (I WANNA KNOW EVERY THOUGHT)

REQUESTS (X)

MASTERLIST (X)

(Part I) (Part II)

Since that night on the bathroom floor, it was fair to say they'd gotten closer. It had finally broken the tension between them she supposed. By no means were they suddenly deeply in love or spent every second by each other's side, but they were taking small steps.

Regulus spent less time in the study than he lonce did, and (Y/n) had the courage to, when he came into the living room, go and sit by him.

She liked doing that. After these past months, feeling quite alone, to be close to someone was nice. They allowed themselves these intimate moments, but other things in their lives changed too

What (Y/n) had learnt was that, Regulus was an incredibly anxious person. That night, and others she presumed, he had spilled his guts purely due that knotted anxious feeling in his stomach. He hated it, but for him, these days, it was almost constant. He didn't exactly grow up in a household that ever taught him to deal with it either. With the war escalating too, and his new domestic situation, over the next six months it only got worse.

He'd begun to drink. Not loads at first, but enough to damped that feeling. Then a little more, and a little more. It wasn't every day, not initially. But then it was.

It was so subtle she didn't notice at first. But the things was, what alcohol did to numb Reg's anxious feelings, it did to heighten others. She could never pinpoint when it began, but she suspected he'd had plenty of nights, or days, drunk in that study of his, knowing she'd never come in and find out. He drank something everyday, sometimes just one or two, other days far far too many. Most days she couldn't tell, not until those nights where he drank too much became more frequent. His behavior was erratic when he was like that, he never lashed out or anything like that, he wasn't angry, just wound up and skittish and unable to articulate himself properly when usually he was a graceful and seemly calm man, who spoke eloquently and politely.

The good days were still there, where they'd talk, on those warm spring evenings. They'd sit pressed up close to eachother, just comfortable. Even then he'd had a drink.

But the whole situation lead to their first fight. Late one night, he'd stumbled out of the study, drunk, in need of some air, a pang of anxiety washing over him despite the drink. (Y/n) was coming down the stairs and saw him dart out of his room. She reached the bottom and just stood there and watched him, he didn't seem to have even noticed her. She watched him hold onto a whisky glass tightly, and lean on the banister, his chest rising and falling quickly. She couldn't watch this anymore. It hurt. The soft affection she felt for him, and her responsibility as a wife broke through her shyness and her worry, and some part of her felt how unfair it was that he could destroy himself to cope- as if she didn't feel something similar, as if she wasn't trapped here too and as if what he was doing didn't scare her.

"Reggie." She spoke and he startled, looking up at her. His chest was tighter than he'd ever felt and he thought he couldn't breathe. When he looked up to her, his hands were shaking, gripped so tight on that railing and on his glass to try and not let her see. He knew he was in a state. He didn't always, when the booze did it's job he was usually much calmer than this, but more often than not these days, it didn't work. It was just the ritual of drinking that sorted it out. The pouring the drink and the taste of it that satisfied him that he'd begin to feel better, that the knots in his stomach would undo, like a placebo. Not tonight. He could hear his pulse like a drumbeat in his head, and his face was blushed pink with heat.

"Reg, you can't keep on like this" she tried to speak softly, but her voice came out as frustrated as she felt. She'd never even mentioned it before, the drink. They both knew now, but like most things, it went unspoken.

He looked away, his hair, getting long now, fell over his face, a few strands sticking to his brow. He still felt like his breath was all taken from him, and each one he took was short and shallow.

"Why not?" He croaked, his mind fogged by drink and racing thoughts that were irrelevant and unimportant but were prominent in his headspace anyway, as they always were.

She hesitated, a lump rising in her throat as she saw him like that. This was why she left him alone when he was like this, it wasn't nice to watch and she didn't know how to stop it. When he was drunk and calm, she was uncomfortable, but he was more like himself, she could deal with that. But this was a whole new level of gut wrenching.

"Because it terrifies me. You're doing yourself damage like this-" he listen to her speak and his mind became crowded with a hundred more voices of awful thoughts. "We can't live like this."

She looked for any sign that he understood that she was hurting, in the hopes that any fragment of affection, or dare she say it, love, between them might be motive to stop.

She saw nothing.

"I thought we were trying not to be strangers?" She pressed on. "That means you can't keep getting pissed every night, and you can't..." She let her voice fade away from her as she realised the confrontation she was having.

"What's doing this?" She asked. "What do you know that I don't? What aren't you telling me?" Her voice trembled as she begged him to open up to her.

"Nothing." He spoke, his mouth now speaking before his head and heart could stop it. "Nothing... This is just how I am, and this is how I'm dealing with it." There was an edge to his voice that she wanted to believe was the drink and anxiety talking, but she couldn't lie to herself and know that for sure.

In the silence, he looked up again. The softness in his eyes was gone. She didn't know what was in it's place but she didn't like it.

She went to speak again but he cut in.

"No- don't you start lecturing me now. Just because you're my wife, that doesn't mean you've got to- to-" he stuttered and slurred his words slightly before stopping, as if his mind couldn't keep up with itself. He paused and ground his teeth. "For fuck's sake!" In one suddenly movement, he'd thrown the glass in his hand against the wall (one nowhere near her) and just shouted. She flinched away. She'd never heard him be loud like that, like something had gone bang in his head and set him off like a bomb.

She realised then that she'd not win the argument, and turned quickly to go back upstairs.

"No, no, no no-" Reg repeated half under his breath, realising what he'd said and shaking his head, his pulse sounding loudly through his skull. He moved toward her. "Thats-" His breath was still shallow. "It's not what I meant-" He caught her by the arm. Taken by surprise, she didn't resist.

"Please-" he spoke, pulling her, with a light, gentle grip on her arm, toward him. "Please."

He pulled her to face him, and stumbling to meet her, placed his other hand on her waist. In seconds they were pressed against eachother and he cupped her cheek in his hand and pressed his lips into hers. They'd never kissed like that before. She could taste the whisky on his lips still, but let herself slowly melt into it.

She pulled away and took a deep breath, she hung her head, pressing it into his chest, and held it. His hand moved from her face to rest on her shoulder. He just looked down at her, his brain still fogged and fuzz in his stomach.

Finally she let herself breathe again, but it was all released in a a small sob, as her eyes stung and welled up, the lump in her throat choked her and finally tears began to fall. She held onto him tightly and sobbed.

She was overwhelmed, and had no idea what was happening to her. She hadn't cried since he left home, or been so close to him. In that moment, she thought about if he had kissed her because he wanted to, or because he thought it would fix what he had said. She didn't know if she cared.

She lifted her head and wrapped her arms around his neck, then she kissed him again. New she could taste her own tears mixed with the bitter taste on his lips. It was sloppy, what with his being drunk and her emotional state, spurring them both on.

Regulus pulled away, his head half spinning.

"I'm sorry" He mumbled and repeated three times over, stuttering and slurred, before kissing her jaw and her neck. With tears still streaming down her face, (Y/n) just nodded frantically, and closed her eyes tight, digging her nails into his shoulder and arm, where she was holding onto him.

Reg moved a hand to her shoulder, and pulled her t-shirt down over it as he moved downward. Then he put one arm around her and put the other behind her thigh, pulling her upward and into him. She put up no fight and no resistance, as he picked her up she wrapped her legs around his waist. She ran her fingers through his hair as he continues to drunkenly kiss her, from the collarbone down. He took her into the living room and lay her on the sofa.

What they had that night, was sloppy, drunken, emotional sex.

--------------------------

PART 4 (Final) HERE

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Tags:

@obnoxioussmiley

#hp fanfic #hp imagine #regulus x reader #regulus imagine #regulus fanfiction #sirius and regulus #regulus black #regulus x y/n #sirius #sirius x you #marauders x y/n #marauders x you #marauders x reader #marauders era #marauders

[salazarslytherin]

a day in (j.p x y/n)

requested: yes! [ I would sell my soul for anything james potter related ] send in your own request here!

🃛 masterlist!

summary: you and james have a relaxing day in

prompts: 16. “You took all the pillows so I’m using you as one.” 20. “Your hair is really soft.”

cw/tw: fluff, descriptions of marijuana use and smoking, sex while under the influence, fluffy smut ft. fem!reader

word count: 1.35 k

a/n: hope this feeds your james desire love!! your soul is required for payment. i used prompts from @acosmis-t 's writing challenge because i wasn't sure what to write, but then i got inspired by these!! just a short fluffy little smut piece because i always write relatively more intense ones. please reblog/follow to boost! x dedicating this to @dorcasmeadowesx

tag list at the bottom ☯︎ join tag list here

Smoke encircled the room, the pungent smells of each puff flowing from one person's mouth into the other's nostrils.

James was currently hogging the blunt, the end of the joint dangling dangerously close to his fingertips, embers somehow avoiding his skin as they fell to the carpet below.

You watched as he reclined on the red beanbag the Room of Requirement had so kindly provided, the sun rays from the window – you weren't sure how there were windows in the ever changing room – hitting his face, illuminating every little crevice.

The soft edges of his face looked so handsome, each glowingly tan speck intriguing you. You found yourself crawling off the sofa, studying him with dilated pupils as you craved to trace each edge and aspect of him– to brush your thumb over the crook in his nose from when he'd broken it in a quidditch match, to play with the hair that always looked silky soft no matter what he was doing.

The bespectacled boy followed your figure as you sat down beside him, laying your head on his torso as you gestured for him to pass you the blunt.

"What are y'doing love?"

You took the joint into your fingers, careful not to let the ashes fall on your hand as you inhaled deeply, letting the smoke dance in your lungs before exhaling it.

“You took all the pillows so I’m using you as one.”

The seeker chuckled, turning to look at the mound of pillows that you had just left behind on the plush sofa.

"Well, that's incredibly false. I'm literally lying on just a beanbag."

You exhaled yet another puff of hot air, lulling your head to the side to look the boy in the eyes.

"Well, it's the best pillow here."

James let out an incredulous laugh, his nose scrunching up in a way that made you want to kiss him.

"S'not even a pillow!"

⚔︎.

Time passed oddly while you two laid there – it seemed like hours yet also like mere seconds, leaving you clueless as to what time it really was. The only indicator was the way the sun seemed to redden, painting the sky in hues that dyed the world pastel.

You could feel James watching you as you watched the sky, his gaze weighing heavily on every little bit of you.

"What are you doing?"

The blunt had long ago burnt out, only the lingering scent of smoke being left behind as a reminder of your afternoon in.

"Watching the world. Why, what are you doing?"

You turned to look at the boy, smiling subconsciously at the way his eyes were filled with love.

"Watching my world."

You laughed at his cheesy words, getting up off the boy's torso for the first time in minutes, hours maybe.

"You're such a nerd."

You straddled the boy, leaning down to kiss him as his hands came to grip your hips. The shared taste of smoke mixed in with the slight mintiness that James always smelt of, your tongues exploring each other lazily.

As your eyes fluttered close, you were flipped over suddenly, eliciting a squeal and a giggle into the boy's lips as he cupped your face with one hand, propping himself up slightly with the other as he straddled you instead. His hips began grinding into yours as you made out, his length hardening inside his muggle jeans.

Your hands entangled in the boy's hair as you bucked your hips into his, tugging at it slightly. You stopped kissing back for a second as you felt it, smiling at how it felt.

"What's wrong?"

James pulled back with worry in his eyes, cocking his head at the way you were still caressing his hair.

"Your hair is really soft."

James barked out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your lips.

"I love you Y/N."

"I love you more James."

Pulling the boy back in, your lips collided once more and your hips moved up to meet his, compelling the boy to grind back down onto you.

His hands moved up under your skirt clumsily, hooking your panties down off of your legs as your hands fumbled with his belt and zipper. James's fingers ghosted over your cunt, but you grabbed hold of him, breaking away from his lips breathlessly.

"No, just want you in me now."

One look into your eyes and James nodded, your combined breaths fogging his glasses slightly. He pulled his jeans and boxers down to his ankles, pumping his cock slightly with his right hand as he nudged your legs open with the left.

The seeker pushed his tip in softly, the stretch of your walls making you moan and him groan. You let out a soft gasp as he pushed in further, grabbing his collar to pull him down and meet your lips with his.

"Hurts baby?"

You nodded into the kiss, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to adjust, James bottoming out inside of you. His lips moved away from yours, leaving what could only be referred to as the ghosts of kisses all across your face, traveling down to your neck and collarbones.

"I love you so much Y/N."

The flurry of kisses and the muttered words caused giggles to bubble out of your mouth, your hands linking behind his neck as you pulled him towards your mouth again, his breath ghosting yours.

"I love you more Jamesie."

"Impossible."

⚔︎.

Your walls began clenching around James's cock, and he groaned, looking at you for permission. Seeing a soft nod from you, he exhaled a soft breath, pulling himself out of you slowly and almost entirely, before pushing back in, filling you up. Soft grunts escaped him with every thrust, and your lips met messily once in a while, before one of you would pull back to let out a particularly loud moan.

"Love feeling you around me my love."

You moaned out as one thrust in particular hit your g spot, biting your bottom lip as the feeling sent shivers down your spine.

"F-faster James."

The boy complied, moving in and out of you at a pace that made your body jostle, your hands yet again finding their way to James's head as you pulled on it, tugging on the hair with every sound you made.

James's hand returned to probe below your skirt, his long fingers teasingly ghosting over your inner thighs as he made his way to your clit. The pad of his thumb drew circles on your clit, the feeling of euphoria mixing with the relentless speed of his thrusts.

"Feel good baby?"

Your head lulled back as his lips traveled to your neck, nodding as the seeker left hickeys on your neck, your fingers running through his silky hair.

"So good James, fucking love it."

The boy moaned into your neck, the sounds reverberating through your throat as he sucked on the skin, you responding in a similar fashion as he flicked your clit lazily. You could feel your orgasm building, humming as James bit your skin softly.

"Fuck, 'm gonna cum."

Muttering almost incoherently, your walls began pulsing around James, making him moan and his cock twitch.

"Me too love, fuck you feel so good."

The seeker's thrusts slowed as he spoke those words, pulling away from your neck to kiss your lips.

With one more thrust, James let out a moan that bordered on pornographic, burying his head into your neck as he came inside you. Your orgasm quickly followed his, your head tilting back as you moaned out, your legs shaking under James as he pulled out of you slowly, feeling the cum trickle out of your cunt slowly.

"Fuck that was so good."

The bean bag jostled slightly as the boy turned onto his side, looking into your eyes while supporting his head with the palm of his hand.

"I love you baby."

"I love you too Jamesie."

James looked around the room, slowly illuminating with lights as the sun set properly outside, engulfing the sky in a purple-ish darkness.

"We should get high in here more often."

⚔︎.

tag list: @marvelslut16, @siriusbarnesslut, @weasleysbitch2, @reg-arcturus-black, @smellslikebadmusic, @moonys-gf, @quindolyn, @lilypad-55449, @iamnibbsi, @kermiemoon, @jamespotterslover, @remoony1, @siriusblackwifeeey, @azura-mist, @accio-remus-lupin, @themoonwithprophets, if you’re crossed out i can’t tag you for some reason, please try to check if your tagging is on!

#mine #writing #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james potter smut #james potter oneshot #james potter imagine #the marauders #the marauders smut #the marauders fluff #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #harry potter fluff #harry potter oneshot #the marauders imagine #james potter x y/n

[clone-wars-imagine-2]

Bad Batch Preference: How you meet and grow closer together

A/N: I hope people enjoy this and I guess I am back on here. Hello people who still follow me!

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

Sergeant Hunter: You were surprisingly a Jedi and not just any Jedi, you were Anakin Skywalker's twin sister. Being the sister of that knucklehead wasn’t easy but if you managed him you could manage everything. Hunter and you met through Cody as the Bad Batch often reports to him and on one of their mission debriefings you walked into the room in full Jedi attire, beaten up from the battle you just came back with a grin on your face. Hunter felt like his heart stopped as your two gazes met and he knew right then and there he wanted to be with you.

For you it wasn’t any different. When you looked into his eyes you immediately felt a connection to him you couldn’t describe even if you tried. Something drew you to him and it made your heart skip a beat. At first you didn’t know if it was the force playing tricks on you or not. And to be honest the face tattoo he had was something that intrigues you and added something to the attraction you felt towards him and you were sure to ask him why he got it.

You two got to know each other when you requested their help on a mission on gathering some intel about something the sepratist were planning. The mission went exceptionally well and you not only grew closer with Hunter but the rest of the Bad Batch as well. You liked them a lot and you felt like they felt the same. It didn’t take long for you to decide that joining them wouldn’t be so bad and you worked better with them than any other troop so it was decided.

Being with them brought something new and exciting to your life and every day you learned more about them and how to maneuver the galaxy than you ever did with the Order. Of course you made sure to learn as much about the sergeant as possible.

Crosshair: The last mission of the Bad Batch went, nicely said, horrible leaving all of them with injuries so it was decided that they would get a medic assigned to them. Neither Crosshair nor the others wanted a reg among them and protested until the supervisor caved in and decided to assign one of the voluntary medics to them. Then in came you, a sunshine in person smiling brightly at all of them introducing yourself as their new medic.

Crosshair absolutely hated you in the beginning, yes you were better than a reg, but he despised your upbeat and innocent attitude from day one. You knew that he disliked you, he made it very clear by telling you to your face, but that didn’t stop you from being nice to him and getting feelings for the sharpshooter.

It took over six months and a reveal about your past during one intense mission that he started to see what was behind your facade and understand you. You all were on a mission to free a Jedi General that was captured a few weeks prior and the planet it brought you to was your old home planet. You begged Hunter to let you stay on the ship for this one and he was ready to leave you there until Crosshair interfered with one of his snarky comments that made your walls come crashing down.

“Excuse me that I do not want to run the risk of seeing my kriffin abusive family again, Crosshair! I spent years trying to get away and I am not about to lose all that kriffin progress because of you asshole!”

None of them has seen you in any shape, way or form angry and you screaming at Crosshair, seething with anger even made him shut up. In the end you stayed on the ship until they came back with the General. It wasn’t until that night that Crosshair came to you and apologized, actually apologized for once, and you two talked it out, paving the way for a future where you two would get along in more ways than you’d expect.

Tech: You two first met through a forum where things about technics and new inventions got discussed. One of your comments caught his eyes because you explained the flaws a new X-Wing model had and how it could be easily fixed. Tech was impressed with your statement and sent you a private message in the forum, starting a discussion between the two of you that lasted for three days. You immediately became friends and chatted every day.

The first time you two met in person was because threats were made against your father, Senator Bail Organa, and because you always tagged along with him he wanted to request protection from the Jedis. You knew that that was your only change and so you told him about how the Bad Batch were the best around and with a bit of prodding, begging and some luck they were assigned to your and your fathers protection.

They protected you for the next three weeks and it was the best three weeks of your life. You spent every single second you could with Tech, getting to know him and ranting about everything that came to your minds. It was a bliss and even though Tech was a bit insecure at first about you being a princess it didn’t hinder the both of you to start a relationship.

Wrecker: Being one of the best inventors and mechanics in the galaxy had its perks but also its downsides, one of them being that when the war came the Republic wanted you in their ranks. They were persistent and the only reason you said yes was so they left you alone, it worked in some ways at least.

You met Wrecker after he and the others came back from a mission where they barely escaped which left the Havoc Marauder half destroyed. You went by them without paying them much mind besides the half giant that was Wrecker which caught your eyes for a moment. Your heart ached seeing the modified omicron-class attack shuttles so ruined and you immediately went to work on it.

It took Wrecker a long time, and some nudges from his brothers, to muster up the courage to talk to you because of your cold and distant behaviour towards them when they first met you, but when he finally did he was pleasantly surprised. You were kind and soft to him and answered every question he asked you. Something about how Wrecker talked to you and how nervous he was in the beginning made your heart immediately melt for him.

Throughout the whole repair process Wrecker would be glued to your side, talking to you about some of the missions they had and crazy stuff that happened. He would also listen to your rambles about your newest inventions and whatnot. When the ship was finally repaired and they left again Wrecker promised to comm you every day which he kept, even if they were in the middle of a battle. It was one of the cutest things ever and it was one thing you loved about him.

#star wars the bad batch #bad batch #bad batch x reader #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #crosshair #crosshair x reader #tech x reader #wrecker x reader #hunter x reader #star wars the clone wars #star wars the clone wars x reader

[greyeyedmonster-18]

A cut scene with the word... Babe? Please and thank you!!

oh, babe. you have...no idea how many things were cut with babe. i love this ask. could probably answer it again.

this was cut from ten reasons. a scene between sirius and harry before sirius's first date with remus (i.e. the fleshed out version of harry telling sirius he smells weird).

Sirius was on his third change of clothes for the night, and was running out of time to continue obsessing over looking good. It had been years since he had been on a date, an actual one that wasn’t the equivalent of a conversation at a bar before disappearing to Sirius’s hotel room in Chicago. Let alone a date that he was going to be sober for, most dates before they got short and dark and sloppy he was high as a kite. Sirius couldn’t remember them if he tried, other than an insatiable sex drive according to his brother.

You two were fucking all the time, and it was loud.

But this one was real. Sirius wasn’t in his twenties anymore, officially thirty and this date consisted of someone else making him dinner. At his home.

A novelist who he had spent the past few months looking at. And now holding hands with. And making pottery with, and laughing with, and for once forgetting that Sirius had things to do and people depended on him. Remus--this novelist--reminded Sirius a lot of who he could be if he just relaxed for half a second and stopped bending over backwards to make sure everything was the best.

The best pottery.

The best life his kid could have.

Sirius just got to…be with Remus. Be a guy at a coffee shop, across from another guy at a coffee shop with cute freckles and a dark sense of humor.

Sirius pulled the green sweater off over his head, discarding it onto the bed, ignoring the temporary mess, when there was a knock on the door, and it was opened unceremoniously. Sirius took a breath in already knowing who the intruder was and how he really needed to remind Harry to wait for a response before walking in.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked

“What does it look like, babe?” Sirius asked, watching as Harry went to flop down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Sirius went to his closet for the fourth time, hoping hanging up there was a magical solution to his fashion dilemma. Even if Sirius knew all the options he had selected were more than appropriate for dinner at someone's house.

“Standing shirtless staring at yourself,” remarked Harry and Sirius shook his head smiling. Teenage abruptness was something that Sirius probably should’ve been more annoyed with, but couldn’t bring himself to. He was mostly relieved that Harry had found some sense of normalcy again; it felt that not too long ago, Harry wasn’t saying much of anything. One word answers, and tears at dinner tables that broke Sirius’s heart every time he wiped them off his godsons face. Feelings too big to articulate but Sirius knew exactly how they felt.

I miss you; I’m lost; what do we do now?

“Do you need something?”

“Reg’s being--”

“I’m going to stop you right there, and encourage you to think about a different way to phrase that sentence.”

Harry exhaled a loud sigh and Sirius chuckled, pulling on the grey sweater over his head. Thinner material so Sirius wouldn’t overheat as he flirted over a table; soft so maybe Remus would brush against him and never stop.

“Reg told me I can’t watch television until I finish my homework, but the homework I didn’t finish isn’t due until next week and he says I should start it and get ahead but who does that?”

“People who don’t want to stay up until midnight the night before something is due. What’s it?”

“Book report,” grumbled Harry rolling onto his side and watching as Sirius pulled on his sweat briefly before going to his hair, undecided if it should be up, “Why are you so twitchy?”

“I’m not. Why are you arguing with Reg when you know he’s right?”

“I’m not.”

“Oh?”

Harry scanned over his outfit, suspiciously. Nicer denim jeans and the fancy, soft sweater that Sirius hadn’t worn in years. “Did you borrow these from Uncle Reg?” he asked. “What kind of dinner is this? Is it for work?”

“Just a dinner, Harry. With…” Sirius let himself trail off. It was too soon.

“Who?”

Sirius arched an eyebrow at Harry in the mirror, as he tied his hair into a high knot, “Why the third degree?”

“Because you smell weird.”

“Weird?”

“Yeah. Why do you smell weird?”

“I showered, Harry.”

“No, you’ve showered before and you definitely don’t smell like that…and you look weird.” Harry sat up studying Sirius. He turned around to face his kid, folding his arms over his chest, hoping he looked intimidating enough to stop the interrogation, but he knew it was useless. Harry was grinning, looking at the discarded sweaters on the bed with delight, “Are you going to pick these up?”

“After I smother you.”

“It’s illegal to smother your kid,” Harry teased, “This is for a dinner?”

“Sometimes I look nice for dinners.”

“Who’s smelling you?”

“And that was your final question,” Sirius told him, walking over to where Harry was on his bed, putting hands on his teenager's shoulders, “I have to go, be nice to Reg.”

“I always am.”

#asks #ask me anything #500 celebration #send me a word and ill go through my cut folder

[fruitcoops]

Just a prompt idea if u want... Reg getting cuddles. Like brotherly bonding from the comfort of the couch. I've had a rough week and I could use some couch cuddles cuz just like co-existing in the same space as someone without any expectations or worries and just... Yeah that's the vibe, just calming and chill.

God I love writing siblings. And Regulus. It’s so awesome that those usually go hand in hand. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for implied terrible parenting

Love is a funny thing. It waxes and wanes, ebbs and flows, but is as constant as the tide. Sirius had been on the waning side for much of his life until the Lions (and everything that came with them) flooded his world, but Regulus…Regulus was still catching up a bit.

It started small, as many good things do.

“Drive safe!” Regulus called from the living room while Sirius grabbed his keys off the table by the front door.

“Go for a walk at some point,” Sirius reminded him. “Love you!”

He closed the door before his brain caught up his mouth, then stuttered to a stop just before turning the car on; it had just sort of slipped out, a habit from the Dumais’ and Remus. The last time he had said he loved his brother was—

Sirius sighed and thumped his forehead on the steering wheel. He couldn’t remember the last time he told Regulus he loved him, and wasn’t that the most pathetically sad thing? It was hard to pay attention to the road after that.

So, over the following weeks, he made an extra effort. Every ‘goodnight’ had a ‘love you’ tacked on to the end. Every hug was accompanied by a light kiss to the top of his head. Every flight to an away game was preceded by a ‘see you soon, love you Reg’, and it never failed to get a reaction—Regulus’ eyes would widen in surprise, his brows would furrow in confusion, and then hope would wash it all away.

Sirius started getting answers about a month into his endeavor. The first time Regulus responded with ‘sleep well, love you too’ he nearly cried right in the middle of the living room. They still bickered, still argued over stupid things to cover the much bigger things lurking below the surface, but it was rare for them to go more than a few hours without quiet apologies.

“Sorry,” one would mutter as they stood in the kitchen to cool down.

“Love you,” the other would say, knocking a shoulder, hip, or elbow into them as they passed in reminder that I’m still here.

“Love you, too,” the first would admit, only half-grudging.

Slowly but surely, Regulus began opening up. He let Sirius hover like a concerned mother hen over his applications, even though they were both busy enough that it didn’t help either of them. Their family dinners became louder and brighter, filled with mindless chatter until their food threatened to get cold. He ventured out of his room during daylight hours and only subjected Sirius to a fond eye roll when he prodded him to get outside, you vampire rather than prickling up like a pissed-off hedgehog.

They settled into a rhythm that Grimmauld Place had never allowed and Sirius reveled in it; finally, he would be able to show his brother that affection wasn’t supposed to be withheld as an ultimate reward for good behavior, but freely given by loved ones. Regulus was allowed to push back, to state his opinions, to be friendly with whomever he wanted, and Sirius had the privilege of getting to know his little brother at long last.

“Scoot,” he said one night, flopping down on the couch with a bowl. Regulus groaned and dragged his legs out of the way as he blindly reached for the popcorn. “What’re you watching?”

“Planet Earth.”

“Good choice. How was your day?”

Regulus glanced over at him. “Really good, actually.”

“Yeah?” Sirius popped another handful of popcorn in his mouth to stifle the shriek of excitement building in his chest. “Zoo was fun?”

“They have new owlets in three enclosures, and I got to feed the tropical birds because Marc and Louis are still young enough to go in.” His face was alight with happiness; something clogged in Sirius’ throat. He had missed this. “There’s a raffle for naming the owls next week.”

“Will you submit something?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“Got any in mind?” Regulus uncurled his legs a little more, so their ankles were crossed.

“A few.” He was clearly seconds away from bursting, so Sirius sat back and waited. “Do you—do you want to hear them?”

“I’d love to.”

“Alright, well, I was thinking Pallas would be a fun one, since that was Athena’s best friend in some of the myths,” Regulus began, his eyes flickering away from the tv screen for half a second. His shoulders were starting to bunch like they always used to when he was excited as a kid, and he was wringing the hem of the blanket in his hands. “Basically, Pallas was…sorry, you don’t need to know all this.”

“No, no!” Sirius said quickly. “Tell me everything. It’s cool.” You have no idea how much I love hearing you talk again.

Regulus’ shy smile grew brighter. “Okay. Well, Pallas was the first option, and then I was thinking it would be funny if one was Neptune, because it’s double irony.”

Sirius tuned out David Attenborough’s voice in the background and set his popcorn aside, turning his full attention on Regulus while he rambled about etymology and every detail of the new owlets. He listened until the episode ended and Regulus yawned so wide his jaw cracked, then guided him off the couch with a gentle nudge toward his room.

“Sleep tight, Reg,” he said, ruffling his already-messy hair.

“ ‘night, love you,” Regulus called absentmindedly as he walked down the hall.

Sirius’ chest seized. Regulus had never initiated their nighttime tradition before. “Love you, too.”

Right there in the hall, Sirius made a promise: he would never let either of them revert to their old ways again. He would be there to celebrate every acceptance letter, to tease him for every texting typo, and to square up against anyone who even hinted at insulting his baby brother. Regulus didn’t need protection—he had proved himself plenty independent in the past—but he was still nineteen years old and Sirius had a moral, spiritual, and semi-legal obligation to be the big brother he had been always been told was unnecessary.

And if he thought about it, really thought about it, there was nothing he would rather spend his life doing. 

[issaxcharlie]

Falling like the stars✨

Pairing: Alive! Luke Patterson x Fem Reader

Summary: Luke and Y/N never got to be a thing. Whatever they had ended abruptly when she settled on someone with far more status than the aspiring guitarist. Months later, now single, Luke entangles her in a scheme to make Sunset Curve more popular. The only thing she needs to do is fake date him for 2 weeks.

Songs used: Holy Ground by Taylor Swift, Loved You First by One Direction and Falling Like The Stars by James Arthur.

High school is a world by itself. It has its own system and everyone moves through it. It is something that although it is not discussed, everyone knows. Including the three members of Sunset Curve, who are lying in the yard trying to find a solution to their latest problem.

"We need more people to support our music. If we can't get this little school to support us, how are we going to fill clubs or sign with a label?” Reggie wonders aloud to himself, no matter how hard they try, they can't get the Los Feliz student body to listen to their band.

“We should have thought about it before, Reg. Now we're just the problem kids who most likely won't finish school. Why would they come to see us at those seedy little clubs when they can go show off at football games.” Luke stands up suddenly after Alex words, one of those huge smiles that comes out when he has a really bad idea on his face.

“Well it seems that the solution is easy, boys. We have to make them see us on the same level as those jocks.”

“Oh yeah, and how are we going to do that, genius?” Alex fiddles with his hands as he rests his head on Reggie, both tired of not being able to come even close to fulfilling their dream.

Luke points to the nearest post, on which there are at least 5 posters to support the homecoming king and queen.

“Really? Do you think someone would vote for you? Before all those star athletes who also have a cheerleader to back them up? You basically have just us and I don't think I can do one of those tricks.”

“We’ll think of something. Winning that stupid thing would put us directly in the top of the pyramid. We’ll find a way, we always do.” Before anyone can respond, some screaming and commotion can be heard.

“Savannah is accusing Y/N to mess with her man! Run, they are in the hall!" students mention as they start running to watch the discussion.

“Oh god, Y/N. I’ll better go and see if I can help her somehow.” Alex gets up and Reggie begins to follow him, but not before turning to make sure Luke is following too. The guitarist makes an irritated face but ends up walking behind his friends.

From the moment they enter the main hall they can hear the screeches of probably the most popular girl in school, Savannah Miller. One of those typical unbearable girls who for some reason always reach the top of the elite in schools despite treating everyone badly.

Y/N Y/L is on the other side of the discussion, she looks calm and even bored. The first thing Luke digests from Savannah's words is that she thinks Y/N was making out with her idiot of a boyfriend during third period. What's interesting about the situation is that Diego cheated on Y/N with Savannah maybe a week and a half ago and had been dating her ever since.

But that's not Y/N's style, no matter how angry she is.

Luke knows her well enough, or so he wants to believe. She was always good friends with Alex and Reggie, and her relationship with them remained strong over the years despite how unstable and fleeting her relationship with the guitarist was.

He's never going to admit how deeply he felt for her. How much it screwed him up that just when he finally began to believe they could be something else, she completely walked away from his life so she could date the man that would end up cheating on her just because he looked more promising at the time. Rich, popular, the quarterback of the football team, the ‘perfect guy’ she said to the boys.

But hey, that's past.

Luke looks up to meet Y/N's eyes on him. In the moment she realizes she was caught, she sneakily turns to Alex, who is just inches from the guitarist and smiles at him.

“Are you actually smiling? You think this is funny?” The girl looks furious, but she's smart enough not to make this a battle of strength.

“I already told you, Savannah. It wasn’t me.”

“I can count, Y/N. Neither you nor Diego were in class."

And that’s when it hits him. The possibility of getting to the top of the pyramid in front of him. Because maybe Y/N is not the most popular, but it is undoubtedly one of the most loved by everyone. Intelligent, caring, beautiful, talented. And she certainly has the status after dating Diego Hernandez for one semester. No one had managed more than 3 months with him and the guitarist thinks that was a good sign that that idiot is not a good idea but well, it wasn’t his choice.

Luke begins to walk towards the center of the circle, Alex tries to stop him but cannot catch his arm in time. Both girls turn to see him surprised, but neither says anything.

"You can go find culprits elsewhere, Y/N was busy with me at the time. You can ask whoever you want and they'll tell you that I wasn't in class during third period either."

Of course, he wasn't there because the trio got into Reggie's old truck to get some hotdogs but no one has to know that.

His hand goes to take her firmly by the hip, just like all those nights that now only remain as memories. He is looking at every inch of her face, searching for her reaction, and is surprised by the naturalness with which the girl accepts the gesture. As if his hand belongs there. And maybe, just maybe, it does.

“Do you really want me to believe this?” Savannah asks, clearly annoyed.

“Y/N and Patterson? There’s just no way in hell. C’mon babe, he’s just pathetic, you could do better.” Diego says out loud as he approaches the scene in the middle of Y/N and Savannah.

There's something about the disgruntled way they both said it that makes Luke want to prove that a girl like her could want him. He doesn’t know how to distinguish if it is pride or insecurity but at the moment he is not interested.

He's barely going to open his mouth to defend himself when Y/N starts talking. "No. You can speak as badly as you want of me but you're not going to bring Luke into this."

Luke lets go of her so he can step back a few inches and see her from a better angle. She’s definitely not calm anymore. Her face looks altered and she is undoubtedly in protective mode. She turns to see him when she feels his hand leave her body but he offers her his hand and she intertwines it between her fingers without hesitation. At this rate she is taking control of the situation so he is going to let her continue and try to achieve his goal along the way.

“I know you need a partner to have any hope of winning the crown, but choosing Patterson is a desperate move.”

And that’s his cue. "If my baby wants that crown I will get it for her. It's that easy.”

“What? I do-” At that moment Luke panics and pulls her by the hand that they have intertwined and with the other holds her face while bringing their lips together. When he reacts to what he is doing he is afraid that Y/N will push him in front of everyone but to his surprise she kisses him back instantly, releasing his hand to bring him closer to the neck.

The kiss is passionate and almost desperate, but it only lasts a few seconds since a voice brings them back.

"This feels like deja vu." Reggie whispers to Alex, they both walked during the discussion towards the circle and are so close that Luke and Y/N heard him clearly.

“Well, we already clarified that she was not with your boyfriend so, I’ll take my girl. It was a pleasure, we should repeat this another day... said no one ever." Luke takes her hand and leads her to the nearest empty living room, Reggie and Alex locking the door behind him.

“What the hell was that crown bullshit? Why did you even cover for me? What are you up to? At least tell me is fun... or that includes you shirtless.” She jokes, a cheeky smile spreads in Luke’s face.

“I need a favor and thought you’ll appreciate an alibi.” She raises her eyebrow in reflex.

“Why would I help you, Lucas?” Luke can only think of how she makes a name as simple and boring as Lucas sound so sexy when she says it. Is incredible.

“Cut the act, beautiful. We both know you've never been able to resist me.” Y/N laughs amused at the boy’s sassiness. She won't admit it but she missed his eyes on her. She missed the way he uses that cocky stupid voice that melts her when he wants something. How he gets closer with each sentence, or his lips on her mouth.

Before she can counter attack, Alex stands in front of the guitarist raising his hands. “I know he’s an idiot, but we really need your help, Y/N. If we want Sunset Curve to gain popularity we have to start here, and this is our last year. Gaining popularity among the elite of the school would help us a lot.”

“We are getting desparate.” Reggie adds, a sad smile on his face.

“And pretending I made out with Luke in third period and getting to be homecoming dance queen and king helps you... why?”

“That crown is literally a test of popularity and status. It would put Luke on the same level as the popular kids like Savannah and Diego. People would be more interested in Sunset Curve after that. For now, for them we are only three good for nothing that one day will not appear around here again. You heard yourself that those two didn't think Luke was good enough."

Her face flushes with anger as soon as she remembers the contemptuous tone of voice they used to refer to Luke. If they hadn't been in the middle of the hall, she probably would have said a lot more than she did. That single comment is enough to make her decide, so without thinking Y/N asks “What do you need me to do?”

“Just play perfect couple with Luke until homecoming dance. Then you are queen and king, Sunset Curve gets the fans we deserve, you get to laugh at Savannah’s face and you can separate next day if you want to.”

“I’m not sure If someone is going to believe it.” She blurts out loud as she glances at the guitarist.

“Oh please, you know each others mouth better than your own names.” Reggie says without thinking, Luke snorted with laughter and Y/N blushes like crazy.

“Yeah, and you used to spend a lot of time together too, two weeks shouldn’t be that hard.” Alex tries to recover the seriousness of the situation to close the deal.

“Okay then. If I can help Sunset Curve and get that smirk of superiority off Savannah's face then sounds good to me. Are you willing to date me, Patterson?”

Their eyes meet again and without a sign of hesitation her now officially boyfriend for the next two weeks, answers.

“Beautiful, you have no idea.”

There is something about relationships that never get to happen that make the heart weigh more, that nostalgia to be stronger, the person more difficult to forget. Luke can't help but remember during the last periods of the day just how good it felt to taste the girl's lips again. Feelings of desire, of familiarity, of belonging. All colliding and going deep into his bones.

He decided a long time ago he didn't do relationships, but if he did, it would have been with her. He was willing to break that rule for her, but she had the final decision and it wasn't him. He accidentally put himself in the perfect situation though. All those what if’s will finally have an answer.

For two weeks he can test what it would have been if Y/N Y/L had chosen him. And when he finally tries the experience he will be free. Free from all the what if’s, free from her, from her memory. And there's also the part of how much the band will benefit. The main objective of doing this, obviously.

The last hour is finally over and Luke sped off toward Reggie's truck. In front of it is Alex already waiting and he can see Reggie and Y/N also walking in the same direction. The four of them regroup and Y/N starts to discuss game plan.

“If we are going to do this, we are going to do it well. There will be a party at Finch's house this Saturday and the three of you are coming with me."

The three members of Sunset Curve make an annoyed face at the words of their friend. "That's exactly why no one supports you. You think you are too cool to hang out with the people but then you want everyone to happily buy your shirts and listen to your music."

“She has a point there.” Alex agrees, and puts his arm around her shoulder.

“Okay, let’s do this. If you all come with me, we can leave early and crash one of those places you usually play. Maybe even have some people of the party to come with us and hear you rock the shit out of that place.” All three smile with bright eyes In response.

“You got yourself a deal, pretty lady.” Reggie says in a flirting tone and winks at her. Luke gives him a light punch on the arm.

"I'll see you on Saturday in my house then, at nine. Goodbye boys." She winks at Luke and walks over to her car, making sure to do a perfect walk because she knows pretty well that the guitarist isn't going to stop watching her until she pulls out of the parking lot.

Luke gives her a perfect smile one last time before Y/N leaves school. These two weeks are going to be weird.

The four members of the band are in the truck, Bobby decided to get out of school recently but a party and a gig sounds like a rad Saturday. Luke gets out and walks to the door to wait for Y/N to come out. When she finally comes down he feels like all the air is coming out of his lungs.

She's wearing the black Sunset Curve t-shirt that he forgot one of the many times he climbed up to the second floor of the house to see her. A short black skirt and one of his red flannels that he probably left there several months ago as well. Black fishnets stockings which he can't help but imagine ripping out with his teeth, her lips in that tone of red that drives him crazy, and her classic black boots that he hadn't seen since she started dating the cheating idiot.

“Genius huh? Is there anything that says more ‘Luke Patterson’s property’ than this? I don’t think so." She smiles proudly and blushes when she notices Luke's gaze locked on her legs. Fishnets may have been included in the outfit due to a certain weakness that the musician has towards them.

The hair that the guitarist is used to seeing in a perfect bun lately, is now loose and tousled. As rebellious as the day he met her, moving in harmonious tune to the rhythm of Now or Never.

Luke reaches out to to entwine his hand in her hair and whispers slowly into her ear “You look... fucking hell, you are not playing fair, baby.” Lightly biting her lobe when he’s done speaking.

They both linger in a trance for a few seconds, considering whether they should just walk in and lock the door. But before they can decide, the boys that already know this story pretty well and are sick of waiting for them while they flirt, get out of the truck. Reggie carries Y/N like a sack of potatoes and between Bobby and Alex take Luke by the arms, putting them in the vehicle so they can finally get to the lame party and then, the gig.

When they finally arrive, the eyes of almost all the girls go to the members of the band, who are definitely dressed for the occasion. Y/N can't help but notice how most of the cheerleaders wink at her boyfriend. Yeah, it’s not real and will last two weeks, but for now she justs wants to forget that part and enjoy the feeling of him being hers.

So she makes a small, harmless gesture to mark territory and puts her hand in the guitarist's back pocket.

Luke turns to see her, an amused smirk on his face. “Jealousy looks so hot on you, I wouldn't mind if you marked my lips with that red lipstick too."

That statement resonates in Y/N’s head. All the times Diego refused to kiss her so as not to stain himself and even forbade her to use that lipstick that for her was part of her brand returning to her head. Followed quickly by every night Luke came down after finishing playing and instantly attacked her lips with his, caring for nothing more than the feel of their tongues fighting for control.

“Not jealousy, just a quick reminder to everyone. You are all mine tonight.” She puts a little more pressure on the hand in his pocket and stands on her tiptoes to kiss the corner of his lips.

“Dance with me?” She asks innocently while giving him a flirtatious smile.

“With you, always beautiful.” He smiles back, winking charmingly.

His hands find hers and she begins to dance and jump gracefully to the rhythm of the music as he spins her around, both singing the lyrics to each other with unmatched energy, happy to be together.

“Tonight I'm gonna dance, for all that we've been through.” She sings with a determined voice, taking the musician by the hair and bringing their faces closer.

“But I don't wanna dance, If I'm not dancing with you.” Luke returns the verse with the same passion, just inches separating their lips. His beautiful and trained voice tends to sound like a more country vibe when he gets carried away and especially in more pop melodies like this, and honestly drives her crazy.

The fact that the rocker at heart gave in to listen to other genres for her and even remembered the lyrics was enough to melt her heart. The last time she was able to let herself go and sing at the top of her lungs like this was with him, listening to a mix of their favorite songs in his car while going for their favorite icecream. Whatever they had was a lot more deeper than what they are willing to admit.

“Did we really just see Luke sing and dance to a pop-country song?” Reggie asks the band, Alex and Bobby behind him laughing at the guitarist who blushes and kisses his date's forehead. “I am not going to discuss this. I'll go get us something to drink." He winks at her and dissapears into the crowd.

“I’ll go too, be right back.” Bobby announces leaving Y/N with Alex and Reggie, who smirk at her.

“It seems that pretending is easier than you thought.” Alex can't stop smiling, Reggie playfully itches the girl's ribs who grins from ear to ear.

"Everything always fits when I'm with him. I ruined my chance. I'm totally aware, and I'm not expecting anything from him, because I honestly don't deserve it. But I plan to enjoy every second of these two weeks that came from heaven to the fullest.”

“You should explain hi-” Before Reggie can finish speaking, Diego appears behind Y/N and tries to forcefully pull her by the arm.

The guys manage to react quickly and release her arm while stepping in front of her. But right away his teammates get behind him.

“Save yourselves the pain, she is going with me.” Diego says confidently, his face showing arrogance.

“Guys, ple-” She tries to stop them from getting hurt, but both step a little forward, determined to protect her no matter the cost.

“You are not taking her, Diego. But you are more than welcome to try.” Alex's voice sounds cool and calm, but Y/N can see how much his hands are shaking and her heart hurts at the sight.

They are all so into their own business that nobody notices the guitarist's return until his lips collide with his girl, who is surprised for a few seconds but immediately recognizes him and gives him space for his tongue to taste her mouth.

They both lose themselves in the kiss for a few seconds longer than necessary and then slowly separate. Y/N grinning from ear to ear as she tries to wipe some of her lipstick off Luke's mouth. He just smirks, as happy as ever.

"Sorry guys, do you need something?" He plays the innocent card. After that kiss, most of the people at the party are watching the scene, so Diego, who looks furious, chooses to leave without saying anything. Right away they can hear a long restrained breath from Reggie and Alex.

“You are a cocky genius, I'm not sure we could have won that one.”

“I’m not sure? Did you seriously think we had a chance?” Alex asks, clearly anxious after what had just happened.

Y/N stands in front of them and throws herself into their arms, whispering how many thanks she can say in a row. They return the hug and begin to relax in each others arms. Bobby and Luke join in the hug, and Luke whispers his own thanks to his friends.

The band decides that it’s time to go and to their surprise, when they let people know that they are going to play at a small club in the center of the city, some decide to follow them. On the way, Y/N spends her time wiping her lipstick off Luke’s face with some wipes she had in her bag, struggling not to press her lips against his every time he made her an adorable grimace or a flirtatious smile.

“You know the drill, beautiful.” Luke turns to see her directly in the eyes, concern on his face just like every time before.

“Front row, not a second out of your sight, so if I need something better wait for you guys to finish performing to get it. Better safe than sorry." She recites, proud to remember every word.

“Thank you, baby.” He smiles a little more calmly, gives her a light kiss on the cheek and starts to help take out the instruments.

They are only doing a few songs from their repertoire, but the energy they transmit drives everyone in the little club crazy. The Sunset Curve members look at a Luke they haven't seen in a long time. The energy and passion in his voice dedicated entirely to the little woman in the front row who sings with all her strength every word and melody, imitating Luke's guitar solos or Alex's drums with her arms.

The 15 students who decided to attend are close to Y/N, trying to get her attention from time to time but nothing can take her eyes off her friends. Not even she knew how much she had missed seeing them play. The look of maximum happiness on their faces.

The last song is one that the little club seems quite familiar with, but she had never heard it before. So it must have been written in the last six months.

“Had my chances, could've been where he is standing.

That's what hurts the most, girl, I came so close

But now you'll never know. Baby, I loved you first.”

The lyrics leave her breathless. Luke, who had made contact with her practically all night, now seems to avoid her eyes like a plague. She definitely has to ask Alex about this song before getting any ideas.

The four bow and get off the stage, Luke launches immediately for Y/N, some of the girls try to get his attention and even try to grab him by the arm or waist but he remains firm until his hands meet his girl's hip.

“What do you think?” Luke's fingers shaking in the grip on her waist tell her he's nervous. The fact that her opinion of them matters so much to him that it makes him feel insecure makes her heart skip a beat.

“It was amazing as always, rockstar.” A huge smile appears on the guitarist's face, who gently takes her face with his hands and kisses her nose. After all, he has to remember that they are only pretending to date and for now he has no good reason to push his lips against hers. It doesn't matter how much he needs her.

The way home is uneventful, Y/N sleeping in Luke's arms while Alex puts the guitarist's red flannel over her.

“Will they ever stop pretending they're ridiculously in love with each other?” Bobby asks Reggie as he turns his head to see the couple.

“They are both stubborn and allergic to real feelings. Especially love. They are so terrified that they have to sabotage themselves somehow.” Alex answers for Reggie who just nods without taking his eyes off the road.

"Do you really have to talk like I'm not here?" Luke asks, resting his chin delicately on the head of the woman in his arms.

Tonight felt unreal. Felt practically like one of the many dreams he has had with the girl throughout these months. Seeing her in his clothes was enough to make the night special, but without a doubt dancing in her arms, savoring every inch of her mouth and seeing her energetically sing each of his songs to end the night with her in his arms is just perfect. Reggie parks at Y/N’s after dropping Alex and Bobby, and as Luke decides how to get her to bed without waking her she sinks deeper into his chest.

"Carry me to the door hotstuff, I like to be in your sexy arms." Luke lets out a cheeky laugh in surprise, another laugh coming from Reggie.

“She’s so asleep, I can’t. Adorable though.” Luke agrees and takes her bag before walking down with her in his arms and carrying her effortlessly to the door.

“Thank you for tonight. I didn’t think I could ever feel this happy and complete again.” She murmurs in his ear before giving him a sweet peck in the lips and enter the house.

What the two of them took from tonight is that indisputably, they are both still head over heels for each other. But it was like that the first time and it just wasn't enough.

Days go by with the couple being the school's favorite gossip. People talking in the hallways about the special way Luke looks at his girlfriend, comparisons about the dry way Y/N used to be with Diego compared to how she is with the guitarist, always touching him somehow and spending all the time with him as possible, visibly much happier. Some also talking about how good the band sounds and wondering why they hadn't heard it before. Everything going according to plan.

On Thursday afternoon, Luke arranged to pick her up for the two of them to find him something formal enough for the dance. When Y/N opened the door she met his beautiful greenish hazel eyes, and swears that for a second she forgot how to breathe.

She knows this scene. He smiles sweetly at her, takes her hand and opens the door of the car for her. Multiple interesting memories inside this car coming back to her mind. His firm hands on her legs, his tongue testing her mouth, his hot moans after biting his lower lip...

“Beautiful? Whatcha thinking?” Luke's voice brings her back to the present, his hand goes directly to her thigh as all that many midnight drives and without saying anything he plays the girl's favorite album.

That’s it. If she wants a chance with him, she needs to make this right. “I- We really need to talk.” Hearing the tone of her voice, Luke senses what is coming. He was here before. So he turns off the car that hadn't even started to move yet and turns to look at her.

"I know we've been putting it off, but we have to talk about how it all ended, I-"

Luke interrupts her before she can finish, his voice sounds broken, sad, angry. "I really don't want to talk about how you preferred an idiot for whom you don't feel the remotest thing just because he'll get a football scholarship and this perfect future.”

She spends a few seconds processing his words. Did he really say what she thinks he said? "It wasn't like that, Luke."

"I know it looks like I can't compete with him, but I would have done anything for you. And I thought you knew that.”

She doesn't know what to do or say. She was so unconscious, so selfish, so heartless, that she didn't even think about how he could have understood the situation. In how much he must have suffered these months watching her with Diego, believing he wasn’t good enough. Believing that she chose someone who wasn’t him, because he wasn’t good enough.

He stays quiet, examining the girl who seems about to cling to tears. The anger evaporates instantly and he leans into her seat to wrap his arms tightly around her. She starts sobbing, but seems determined to talk.

“R- Remember the night we met? It was the first Sunset Curve presentation. I had just entered the little club, but your voice dragged me to the front row like a magnet. And when I was finally in front of the stage, I knew it. It was you. The butterflies that everyone talks about for the first time in my stomach. I knew I could never feel again something even close to what I was feeling at that moment.

I got carried away in your voice, dancing to the rhythm of the melody and recording every sound in my head. And when I opened my eyes again, yours were staring at me. And I understood that you felt it too. It was me, and you knew it. It was so natural, powerful, magnetic, deep. I loved you since the first day, Luke. How is that not going to scare me?

When the feelings started to get so strong they burned, I knew I had to run. You always made it very clear that relationships were not your thing, I could not continue to wait for something that from the beginning you made it clear you could not give.

Then Diego arrived at the right time to give me an exit, and I took it. I knew he just wanted to have me around to raise his good boy status, and feeling nothing was safer than feeling too much. So I lied. I lied to you, to me, to everyone. And I’m sorry, but I was so scared. I was a coward who should have done things differently.”

When she finally finishes pulling out what she's been saving for months, she pulls away from Luke to see his face. His eyes look crystal clear, his cheeks red. But his beautiful white smile lights up his face.

"Next time you love me so much that you can't bear it, let me know, please? I can step on your foot or sneeze in your face. I was literally going to ask you to be my girlfriend that weekend. I even wrote you a song."

“You were? The one you sang the other night?”

“Okay, I wrote you a lot of songs. Maybe too many. But the one I'm talking about is different. Maybe I'll let you listen to it one day. If you stick around long enough this time.”

She smirks and kiss him lightly on the lips, enjoying the feeling of being able to. He knows he reacted way too chill. But he also understands her feelings. What is the point of reproaching her for something they can no longer change? A bad decision made by a love so immense that it left her blind. He is simply not willing to waste any more time. They are finally going to do things right. Neither of them is going to self-sabotage it this time, and since he doesn't trust it, he'll put Alex and Reggie in charge to make sure.

The night of the dance arrives. Y/N is wearing a beautiful black dress and her classic red lips. Luke tried his best to look fancy and he's wearing a pretty cool suit but in a sleeveless version. His still fake girlfriend couldn't stop smiling when she saw him. Just perfect.

Dancing in his arms, letting him go only once in a while to dance with the other three members of Sunset Curve made the night amazing. The rest of these two weeks they spent it talking, laughing... making out. Enjoying the most of the time they lost. Even completely forgetting why they were faking it in the first place, until they ask the candidates to take the stage.

"And your king are queen are... Y/N Y/L and Diego Hernandez!"

They all turn to see Luke in shock. Just hearing their names together is enough to make him frustrated, but there's not much he can do right now. And that's when he remembers what he asked the boys to play for the king and queen's first dance. Great, now dance they’ll dance to his song together. Just his damn luck. He sabotaged himself again without imagining it.

They are crowned and Diego offers her his hand, not without first throwing a face of superiority to the guitarist. She walks but continues straight until she is in front of her lover.

Luke looks at her strangely, she smiles at him.

“But I don't wanna dance, If I'm not dancing with you. Remember?” She sings happily in his ear, and offers her hand.

“Dance with me?” He looks at her adoringly and takes her hand.

“Always, beautiful.”

They walk to the center of the floor, Alex begins to sing the first verse. Y/N rests her head on Luke's chest, her hands around his neck, as he presses her against him by the hip, wrapping her in his arms. His head bent to sing the song in her ear.

“I swear to God, I can see... you're still the girl in the club.”

Tears of happiness begin to flow from Y/N, the words that she never had the opportunity to know, finally getting revealed. Luke's sweet, soft voice in her ear. The perfect melody and the beautiful voice of Reggie and Alex in the background.

“And I need you to know that we're fallin' so fast

We're fallin' like the stars, fallin' in love.”

The moment he sings in love, Y/N lifts her head to meet his eyes. He lifts his hands to her cheeks to wipe her tears, gently holding her face to make sure she sees him recite every word.

“And I'm not scared to say those words. With you, I'm safe.

We're fallin' like the stars, we're fallin' in love.”

The second Luke finishes singing, Y/N stands on tiptoe and pushes her lips against his. Tears of happiness continue to fall from her face, wrapped in a passionate, slow, deep kiss. He's all she wants. Her heart chose him since the very first day.

“I can’t believe one of Luke’s random ideas it's what made them find their way back to each other. Reg, we tried for 6 months and we were never even close. Two weeks ‘pretending’ and bam! they are just fine.”

Both watch the happy couple dance now that they are official.

"You know what they say, Fake it till you make it.” Reggie smirks while watching Luke happily kiss Y/N.

“Fair. At least everything was fixed before we shoved Luke into the pool to see if Y/N would rescue him with a mouth-to-mouth kiss."

“We still could try, you know... for science.”

“Cool. Monday works for me. Do you think that even though he didn't win, we still have a chance to win some more fans?”

Reggie raises his head before answering, a smile appears when he sees the bunch of girls and boys who are spying on them just a few meters away. Probably waiting for them to finish talking to get closer.

“I think Sunset Curve will be just fine too, Alex.”

Thank you for reading✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning , @ghostofmgg, @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress, @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc, @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1

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[allzelemonz]

Don’t Go: Crosshair X Gender Neutral Reader Part 1

In honor of the return of Star Wars! I’m a little late... but Crosshair is in need of love. I want nothing bad to happen to him and I will likely be sad in the coming weeks.

It all happened so suddenly. One minute you were working with the resident Jedi on Kamino, then a clone asked for you to follow him. Then you heard the blaster fire. When you tried to turn back the clone grabbed your arm and kept you there.

“It would be best if you stayed with me, Commander.”

You stared at the expressionless helmet in shock. From the tone of his voice to the words themselves, this clone was not acting right. Nevertheless, he had a blaster in his hands and you did not. He released his grip on your arm and you followed him away. Nothing seemed right.

He led you to the Prime Minister who was waiting in his usual weird egg chair. When the trooper was gone you gave the Kaminoan a curious look as he calmly poured a drink for you.

“I’m sorry if you witnessed any unpleasant things today, Commander.”

“Do you mind if I ask what’s going on, Prime Minister?”

You tried to keep you cool in the presence of the Kaminoan, knowing that manners and politeness was their favored character trait. You accepted the drink from him with a small thanks.

“All will be explained in due time, but I’m afraid I must inform you that your employment in training the clone troopers may be coming to an end.”

“What do you mean?”

“We have come under a sort of new management.” The Prime Minister took a small sip from his cup. “An announcement will be made later this evening, I just thought it would be best to let you know of the threat to your employment ahead of time.”

“Thank you for that, but I’m still a bit confused.”

“We will speak more tomorrow, after the announcements. Everything will make more sense then.”

You gave the Kaminoan a nod and promptly exited the room. You were met with hallways full of troopers going in every direction. You took a shaky breath at the sight of an occupied stretch being carried to the med bay, seemingly for analysis. You had a sinking feeling you knew exactly who was on it.

You made your way to your barracks, changing your mind halfway there, and instead turning down the hall leading to the barracks room of Clone Force 99. You waited there for an hour or so, trying to distract yourself with cleaning one of Crosshair’s old rifles.

The door slid open to reveal Tech and Wrecker first. Tech going immediately to his workstation.

“Ah! Good to be back.” Wrecker exclaimed as he put his helmet down.

“The smell’s getting worse.” Echo commented.

“You’re still new. You’ll get used to it.” Hunter assured.

“Speak for yourself.” Crosshair pushed passed his brothers, finally seeing you.

The other boys went about their usual coming home routine as Crosshair sat next to you and took his helmet off.

“How was the mission?” You asked, mostly to gauge if he’d be acting weird like all the clones you’d seen today.

“Mediocre.” He mumbled.

He leaned over to you and placed a quick kiss on your head. At least that hadn't changed. The rest of the Bad Batch seemed to be acting like themselves. There was something about Crosshair’s movements that seemed different. He hadn’t taken his helmet off until sitting with you. He didn’t say anything about you cleaning his rifle.

“Not every objective” Crosshair said.

You tuned into the conversation, having ignored it until now.

“Hunter let that Jedi kid escape.” He continued. “Or do you want to keep lying to us?”

You looked between Crosshair and Hunter. Let the Jedi escape? Were all of the Jedi being killed?

Hunter stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the waters below.

“I don’t like to think of executing our commanders as a mission objective.”

“An order is an order.” Crosshair argued.

He wasn’t wrong, but killing all of the Jedi was a questionable order at best. And the Padawans, children, there was no way to justify that order. When you were first brought on to aid the trooper training you couldn’t believe that pre-teens were holding a rank that you didn’t earn until you were twice that age. You couldn’t imagine killing them.

“Since when?” Hunter fired back.

Even from behind him, you could see Crosshair become annoyed. The end of his toothpick flicking around and his shoulders tensing up.

“None of this makes sense.” Echo chimed in. “Those clones served alongside General Billaba for years. How could they turn on her like that?” The former reg hit his fist against the table in frustration.

“Because of the reg’s programming.”

Everyone looked at Tech as if he was crazy.

“What programming?” Hunter asked.

You recalled being told that the clones were made to be more obedient than the average person, but you never thought of it as programming. Tech explained what he meant and Wrecker laughed.

“Ha! We sure don’t” The giant clone slung an arm around Crosshair, stuffed toy in hand.

You could see Crosshair’s annoyance at the action go beyond his default level of only moderate annoyance.

Tech explained why they didn’t adhere to the same standards as other clones, which you could have guessed. They’re different. Tech made it sound more complicated than that, but really the short answer was that they were simply built different.

Crosshair pushed Wrecker off him as Tech continued his explanation. Wrecker began to softly hit Crosshair with his stuffed toy in opposition. Crosshair got away from his large brother and replaced his toothpick in his mouth. You could still tell he was a bit off put by the current topic of conversation. The boys continued to discuss why they didn’t follow the order that had apparently been put out. You came to your own conclusion about the Jedi and troopers you’d been with earlier.

Crosshair leaned against the wall next to his bunk, you nudged him lightly and asked silently if he was feeling okay. He didn’t respond as he usually did.

An intercom message gave the order to report to the staging area, interrupting the conversation.

The Bad Batch walked to the staging area. You followed with them, Crosshair keeping pace with you in the back. It was his form of PDA like holding hands, just walking with you in step.

You split from the boys to take your position at the head of your group of clone cadets. All of them acting strange, not a single one out of place or trying to talk to one another. All of them stood at attention as if they were clankers. Even your subordinate sergeant didn’t give you any more comment than an acknowledgement of rank and a curt nod. He’d usually at least crack a smile or a wink if he was feeling confident.

You watched the announcement with a bad feeling about what was to come. You tried to catch sight of Crosshair or Hunter, anyone of the batch, but they were too far ahead and blocked by too many other clones. You couldn’t even see Wrecker towering above everyone else. The news that all Jedi were to be executed for treason explained a lot, but it didn’t change your mind about anything. The clones around you cheered at the announcement of a new Empire. The cadets behind you included. Men that just a few weeks ago had been talking about their disgust with the authoritarian Separatists. Maybe Tech had a point about the programming.

After the announcement you were caught up in the chaos that was clone cadets. Your fellow training commanders all worked to get the cadet back into their schedules and you couldn’t slip away no matter how much you wanted to. You escorted your troops back to their training area and got them back on track, leaving them to the bounty hunter trainers they were working with.

You made your way back to the batch’s barracks to find Crosshair looking over the old rifle you had been cleaning.

“Where is everyone?” You asked. It was a rare case the barracks were only occupied by one member of the batch.

“Out.” Crosshair stated plainly.

You took his meaning. Everyone was doing their own thing. You sat by the tall clone and watched him inspecting the weapon.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been accommodating recently.” Crosshair said, breaking the silence.

“Since when are you accommodating?”

The sniper chuckled and set the rifle to the side, turning to you. He took your hand in his and met your eyes.

“I try to be for you.”

He leaned in and kissed you. The usual crosshair kiss, short and to the point, but exactly what you needed.

“Have you been feeling okay?” You asked.

Crosshair raised an eyebrow at the question.

“You’ve been picking at Hunter a bit more than usual is all.”

“He made a bad call.”

You nodded, not wanting to provoke him. Maybe Crosshair wasn’t as immune as the others. He was acting off, but not nearly as badly as the regs.

“Do you want to go to the mess?” You rested you had on his cheek, tracing the point of his tattoo with your thumb slightly.

“Maybe later.” He answered, leaning into your touch.

He inched closer to you, pulling you close to him. He wrapped his arms around you in a rare hug. You relished in the action, pulling him closer as well. You ran your fingers against his short hair. Crosshair never hugged you for more than a few seconds, but you sat there for a while before the clone pulled away to kiss you again.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Cross?”

“Just missed you.” He spoke softly.

He hugged you close again. It made you wonder what was going through his head right now. The stoic man Crosshair usually appeared as was fading the longer he held onto you. Something wasn’t right.

#star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x male reader #star wars x female reader #star wars x gender neutral reader #the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x male reader #bad batch #crosshair #crosshair x reader #crosshair x male reader #crosshair x female reader #crosshair x gender neutral reader #clone troopers x reader #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #x gender neutral reader #fluff

[hansolmates]

the proposal (m)

banner done by the ammmahhzzing @eerieedits​

summary; Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. pairing; editor!Jungkook x assistant!reader (f) genre/warnings; the proposal!au, fake marriage au, enemies to friends(!!!), friends to lovers, bouts of flangst, dry humping, slight blood but not too bad, lang, alcohol, poor jjk discovers he has the ability to feel emotion, poor y/n is in the middle as always w.c; 20.1k of endless banter and koo hiding his romantic side a/n; yeah, it’s almost summer. But i think we need a lil holiday magic in our lives! I rewatched the proposal this weekend and whipped this up. Why is koo so gosh darn easy to write? This is my longest fic since i wrote maze runner back in 2014!! i rec this extension to get fully immersed in 2pov! Enjoy and pls tell me if there’s any errors im too poopied to proofread it again drabbles; 01

“When I hired you, you basically signed a contract that said you’d do anything for me.” 

“Yeah, Jeon. I did. That meant like, getting you coffee or working late hours—normal work stipulations,” you can feel the hair on your scalp growing thinner, “not commit fucking fraud!” 

Your boss looks moreso frustrated than you are, but you cease to care. Jeon Jungkook has been nothing but a thorn in your side since your employment at Big Hit Publishing two years ago. Being a budding author who wanted to graduate from online sites and freelancing, you accepted the job as the editor-in-chief’s assistant in the hopes of getting your first book published. 

However, your dreams of being an editor are quickly dissipating, especially when Jungkook corners you this afternoon and announces that he may have left America during the time his work visa was still processing. He may have to give over his editor-in-chief position because there’s no way he can get a work visa processed in time. As a result of this information, he may have told his supervisors that you seduced him on a late night one year ago, and you two fell in love and have been secretly engaged ever since. 

Because y’know, your citizenship to this country is an asset to the company. 

“We didn’t have to go to Norway to PR Emma Watson’s autobio,” you huff, fingers going pale from how hard you were gripping your iPad. Jungkook is an esteemed workaholic, and you have no idea where it stems from. You remember that trip to Oslo, Jungkook insisting that you and him both go to make sure everything goes smoothly.

“You weren’t complaining when we went to that restaurant with the open bar.” he runs a hand through his coiffed hair, making the pomade untack from its style. “You got so drunk that Emma held you while you cried about global warming.” 

Wholly unamused, you frown. “Jungkook, can you please take this seriously?”

“I’m taking this seriously, you’re not the one who’s about to be deported in two weeks!” Jungkook hisses, face dangerously close to yours. Not that anyone would know what he’s saying, but you can tell from his defenses that he genuinely is nervous. 

“You wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew your Visa!” 

“I wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew my Visa!” 

At least twenty pairs of eyes are watching your confrontation, probably making their own conclusions as to what you two were fighting about again. Curse this office for having full-walled windows, you often feel like an ant in a plastic farm. Your work relationship is an anomaly to the rest of the staff. Before you started working at Big Hit, Jungkook’s assistants did not last long. Within the first week of working, you understood why. 

Jungkook whirls around his desk, glaring at the glass doors as he puts himself between the staff and you. “If you don’t marry me,” he says lowly, close enough for his hot breath to fan your face, coupled with his fresh-scented cologne. It annoys you how good he smells. “You’ll also be replaced because they want to give the my position to fuckin’ Karen of all people,” you fight the twitch of your lips. The only thing you two mutually agreed upon is the hatred of his co-editor, Karen. “All of the late nights we’ve worked together, the gallons of coffees you consumed, putting up with my shit, your dreams of becoming an author,” his eyes flicker to the way the grip in your iPad trembles, “will go down the drain and turn to shit. Whether you like it or not, we’re in this together.” 

Pretending to be unfazed, you bat your lashes, “So are you saying, you need me?” 

“For fuck’s sake—”

“Ah-ah, Jungkook. I’m not going to ask you to get on one knee, but you should at least tell me how much you need me.” 

You assume with great confidence that the only reason you’re kept on Jungkook’s payroll is because you’re not afraid to stand up to Jungkook’s bullshit. He looks positively disgusted at the mere thought of paying you an iota of a compliment. You’d say on average, you get half a compliment a month from Jungkook. You say half because he’ll compliment you, then downplay it with whatever flaw he can fabricate to get under your skin. 

He loosens his lavender paisley tie, annoyed. “Fine. I need you. I need you because you’re the only one who knows me well enough to be my wife. You’re the only woman I’ve had full conversations with in two years and knows all my dietary restrictions, favorite books, foods, and hobbies. By process of elimination, you are my best candidate.” 

“Romantic,” you roll your eyes, “I guess I do,” you push him away with a finger to his chest, “but I want a raise. And after we finish Sorn and Mark’s project, I want you to read my novel.” 

“Done and done.” 

“Well Jeon, I guess you’ve wifed me up with your ways of seduction.” you muse sardonically, feeling more upset for yourself than anything. 

“Fantastic,” he sighs, finally throwing his tie across the desk and plopping in his armchair. “Cancel the call with Janet, call PR about Irene Kim’s interview on Ellen, and order me a medium rare steak from J.J. Bittings with a side of brussels.” 

“Right,” you mutter under your breath as you pull up your checklist, as if you didn’t just give away your life to the Devil incarnate. 

Jungkook’s back is already facing you, focusing on his computer displaying two new manuscripts. “Oh, and on your way to J’s don’t forget to pick up your ring at Saks.”

“Bitch, you’re asking me to pick up my fake wedding ring?” 

Unbothered, he shrugs. You see the planes of his shoulders stretch beneath the blazer, because he’s deemed this conversation long over and he has work to do. “Yeah, but it’s real diamonds.” 

You’ve been seeing red for days. 

While the rock on your ring finger is indeed beautiful because Jungkook has impeccable taste, it drags you down and arouses the elephant in the room everytime you show up for work. 

You get enough stares on the daily, and you were just getting used to the looks of pity and sympathy for working under Jungkook, but now there are only snickers and playful winks as you trudge down the cubicles every morning. Everyday feels like the runway at a shitshow, and you are the headliner. 

Taehyung clapped you none-too-hard on the back when you showed up to work the next morning, congratulating you on the engagement. “Can’t believe you’re fuckin’ the big boss!” 

The rest of the staff poke their eyes out of their cubicles like Digletts, and you shush them, using your hand to make them sink down. 

Coffee is spilling down your shirt thanks to him, and you reach for tissues in his cubicle. “Can you not say it like that, please?” 

“Oh, come on. I heard from the supervisors Jungkook went on about how you seduced him late at night and took charge,” Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows approvingly, and you fight the urge to not throw up your coffee in his face. “How do you keep it so professional? Or do you save all that pent-up energy for after hours?” 

“You disgust me,” you grimace, stepping out of his cubicle and immediately regret wasting your five-minute break conversing with the typist.

Striding back into Jungkook’s office, he doesn’t hesitate to rattle off the next items on today’s agenda. He barely looks at you when you stride in, too focused on whatever corrections he’s slashing in red ink. 

“Did you get Taemin’s second draft?” 

“No, and I told him that if he can’t get me the draft by tonight he won’t get a publishing deadline and the number of copies published will be decreased by a third.” 

“And Taehyung’s author agreed to our stipulations?” 

“Of course, she’d be dead not to.”  you mutter, “she’s a nineteen year old Influencer, what would she know?” 

“Exactly, that’s why we milk it out as long as we can.” Jungkook throws the first draft in a large, intimidating pile, mixing in with all the others like a needle in a haystack. “Which is why it’s important we snag dinner with her this weekend, we can really—”

“What, this weekend?” your sense of equilibrium cracks, and you walk forward to put his hands on his desk. “I took this coming week off for Christmas. I’ve planned this for months.” 

“I know.”

“I can’t just cancel my flight! I saved up for that!”

“And?” Jungkook brushes off your fury like a piece of lint, “I’m Korean. Christmas is a fake holiday for me.” 

“You can’t just tell me I can’t go home to my family, it’s the fucking holidays!” 

“Why not, I’ve done it before. Remember on Valentine’s day when I told you the only date you have is a date with Kwon Boa’s publicist? Or on Secretaries Day when I argued that you don’t feel appreciated by society anyway and therefore why bother taking one extra day off? Or during Easter when your family screamed in my office on speakerphone that you should quit—”

“Okay,” no need to be reminded of how much you’ve wasted your life for this man, “but this is different. I’ve already bought plane tickets and this holiday is special. It’s a whole family reunion in the Poconos and we’ve reserved over five houses to fit all of us! I can’t just ditch!” 

“But I need you!” he replied just as hotly, in a tone that reminded you so many times of how tethered you are by this man. Two years have gone by, and the only thing that kept those strings together is the constant ache in getting your first novel published. “With all the marriage stuff and stupid extentions we had to make on these writers there’s no way we can get everything done before winter ends!” 

“You’ve done it before, why can’t you just ask Taehyung to assist—”

“Trouble in paradise?” 

A chill travels up your spine, and you and Jungkook exchange panicked eye contact. A tiny, pretty blonde lady struts in the room like it's hers, plopping a fruit basket atop Jungkook’s manuscripts. 

“If by paradise you mean our relationship, then no.” Jungkook’s the first to recover, meeting you at your side and stretching an arm around your waist. “I’d say work-wise things are getting a little rough, but nothing we can’t handle. We’re a team, after all.” 

“I just wanted to stop by as I was in the neighborhood,” the woman says, making herself comfortable in a leather seat reserved for guests. “Congratulations again on your engagement.” 

You tack on a smile, squeezing Jungkook’s arm a little too hard, but it’s enough to make the lady in front of you smile back. “What brings you here, Taeyeon?” 

Kim Taeyeon is Jungkook’s immigration liaison, AKA the person responsible for making sure you’re not breaking the law. She’s a pretty thing, with eyes sharp but a smile that’s soft and deceiving. 

“It’s just a shame you two have to rush a civil wedding,” Taeyeon sighs, looking at the window overlooking the city. 

“Ah, it takes some of the planning stress off my back, really.” you force a laugh, tugging Jungkook to sit on the couch opposite her. “At least one thing is done. The thought of planning a whole wedding with over two-hundred people is so stressful.” 

You weren’t really going to have a white wedding with Jungkook (however you may have entertained the thought, which is reflected in your Google search history) but you had to keep up the ruse that you were. A civil wedding in two weeks, then a quickie divorce a year later. 

“I know! My wedding was a real mess let me tell you, straight out of a movie!” Taeyeon is certainly the type of person to make you feel at ease, so at ease that it’s simple for you to melt your front. “But besides the point, are you two doing anything special for the holidays?” 

“Ah, well I bought a flight to meet my family in the Poconos,” you start, trying not to succumb to your nervous habit of wringing your fingers. You grab Jungkook’s hand as a reprieve. 

“And you’re not going?” Taeyeon’s gaze snaps, yes snaps, to Jungkook. 

You try to step in, realizing your flaw. “We’ve just been so swamped with work, all the immigration stuff and with these book delays Jungkook suggested he stay behind—” 

“But we’ve decided to prioritize our personal life and enjoy Christmas with our family,” Jungkook swoops in, threading his fingers between yours. He flashes Taeyeon a smile, and from the way his face lights up and his nose crinkles, you could’ve mistaken it to be genuine. “I’ve never experienced a big family Christmas, y’know. I’ve missed snowboarding too, I used to do it a lot in highschool.” 

“Oh, that’s just so sweet!” Taeyeon cooes, clasping her hands together. “Do send some pictures when you come back!” 

“Of course,” Jungkook stands up and attempts to leave Taeyeon out. You follow in tow, She obliges easily, mentioning something about just wanting to check in and she also has work to do. 

“Also,” Taeyeon’s head flickers to the people sitting outside Jungkook’s office. “You should manage those workers out there,” she looks at you, sympathetic. “Apparently, they didn’t peg you as the type of person to sleep their way to the top. And that’s just what I heard from walking down the hall once!” she laughs, tinkling brighter than a windchime, but you just tighten the grip on Jungkook’s palm. “Such a childish assumption. Things can be much more complicated.” 

She tips a “happy holidays” off her shoulder, and you both are smiling like the loving couple you are. As soon as the elevator doors close and Taeyeon is really gone, Jungkook moves to let go of your hand, but you hold him in your grasp. 

“She’s onto us,” you snap, tugging him closer to you so your co-workers wouldn’t read your lips. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” he bites back. He looks offendingly at the fruit basket adorning his desk. 

“What if we get caught, Jungkook?” you start to spiral, feeling your deepest fears crawl to the forefront of your brain. You’ve done extensive Google research on commiting fraud, and if you do get caught, Jungkook will never be able to come back to this country and you’ll have a fine of up to $250,000. Your boss doesn’t pay you nearly enough to get by with that kind of debt. “We’ll ruin this company, and our lives, and any hope of being published or credible.” 

“Hey, relax,” Jungkook whispers in your ear, the tone oddly comforting. He pulls you into his arms, and you barely have a chance to recover when he squeezes you extra tight around your waist. Jungkook only ever hugs you when doing PR, and even then it’s an awkward half-hug. Hell, he never hugged you on your birthday. “This is what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna book my flight to the Poconos, bring some manuscripts so we can work remotely, and no one will ever know.” 

You sigh into his arms, nodding tiredly. It feels nice to be hugged like this. His arms are strong and warm, and you feel small and protected. It’s been a while since you’ve felt like that. Maybe Jungkook did have a heart under all that muscle. 

“I’m putting up a good show, aren’t I?” he says, and you feel your heart drop just a little. Disappointed, but not surprised. 

From your view facing the cubicles, you see at least half the employees comically bugged with  heart eyes at you, enamored by your fake relationship. 

“Do not stretch your long-ass legs on this plane, Jeon,” you nudge your smaller leg away from your section of leg room, “Jesus, we’re flying economy!” 

It scares you how little you fought against Jungkook joining you for the winter holiday. It is the logical decision after all, Taeyeon is on your trail about your sudden engagement and you both needed to keep up the ruse. That includes going on family vacations. Also, the fact that Jungkook works through Christmas because he doesn’t celebrate it does make you feel a little bad. You can’t remember the last time the man took a vacation. 

The man in question barely moves at your weak attempt, and stretches his leg even further across your seat. “Sorry, babe,” he says, fishing around his seat for the included blanket. 

“It’s fine, Kookie.” You reply sweetly, and decide to kick off your shoes to drape a leg over Jungkook’s thighs, “you’re like a portable footrest!” 

He looks absolutely insulted at your objectification, but smartly decides to choose his battles and lets you keep your position. Tucking himself in with a scratchy blanket he waves you off, “Whatever, just wake me up when we arrive.” 

“What, no.” you pull up your iPad, shoving the note entry in his face. “I know everything about you, and yet you know nothing about me. I made this easy on you and just wrote everything down. You just have to read it.” 

“Seriously? I’ve known you for over two years, I’m sure I know enough about you.” 

“Really, then how do I like my coffee?” 

“Uh… hot?” 

You give him a look and he knows. With a sigh he grabs the iPad from your hands. Within seconds he’s giving you another dirty look, as if he’s skimming a conspiracy novel. 

“You know all this random shit about me?” Jungkook asks, scrolling down as to what feels like your life story. 

“Yes, because unlike you, I listen when you talk.” 

“Fine. What’s my favorite type of weather?” 

“A warm and sunny day, which correlates to your favorite kind of date which is walking along the beach at sunset. Cliché much?” 

“Okay, rude. Who’s my favorite artist?” 

“You like a little bit of everything, but since seventh grade you’ve been pining for IU. In the office, you like to sing along to Lauv and Hozier.” 

“Favorite movie?” 

“The Marvel Series. But you really like 5 Centimeters Per Second, you like the romance.” 

“And how do you know my favorite anime movie is 5 Centimeters Per Second? I’m pretty sure I’ve never told you that.” 

“Jeon, when we were promoting Momo Hirai’s self-help book at Anime Expo you were gone for two and a half hours at 1:50 sharp.” your boss’ Adam’s apple bobs and he swallows thickly at your admonition. “And low and behold, you gave yourself thirty minutes’ time to line up early because when I checked the schedule Makoto Shinkai had a panel on ‘The Otaku’s Perspective on Romantic—”

“Alright alright, I get it.” Jungkook slumps in his seat, as comfy as it can get with your legs draped around him and a seat at the far end of the plane. You know he’s trying to hide a blush, and you feel proud for making him a little flustered. “You’re lucky I’m a fast reader.” 

The plane ride goes relatively fast, with Jungkook asking quick questions about your family and other random things. It’s like playing a game of 20 Questions, instead it’s the final boss battle with 200 questions and if he doesn’t get them all right, the penalty is deportation. 

When you land, you’re both stiff and glazed over. Once you exit the terminal, Jungkook ditches you for the bathroom and says he’ll meet you at the luggage pickup. You give yourself a few moments, gearing yourself up for the long week ahead of you. At the luggage pickup, you see a tall man watch the revolving conveyor belt with interest. Either that, or he’s zoning out. 

“Joonie!” you cry, nearly dropping your phone upon seeing your big brother. He’s dressed comfortably in a grey sweat ensemble, as if he rolled out of bed and came straight to the airport. 

A bright grin takes over his face, and he doesn’t hesitate to smush your body against his. Under his tall frame you sway, your toes barely swiping the ground. “You’re alive!” he cheers, pulling back and holding your shoulders to get a real look at you. “I can see you’ve gained a little weight, eyes are a little dark, but I’m glad the Devil let you go. I still can’t forgive him for making you skip out on Jin’s wedding.” 

You don’t appreciate the way that Namjoon picks and prods at your exhaustion, but you know he means well. While he does not know your boss by face and name, he had enough artilerary from the billions of phone calls to learn about the Devil and the havoc he’s wreaked upon your life.

When you don’t respond he gets the cue that you do not want to talk about work this week, and he smacks his lips together. “But nothing a little R&R can’t fix! The ski resort nearby has a really nice outdoor jacuzzi and we could set an appointment for facials if you’d like. Or we could do absolutely nothing and turn into baked potatoes and watch movies until our eyes burn up.” 

“Both would be great,” you smile softly, catching two familiar suitcases make their rounds on your flight’s conveyor belt. You grab your pink luggage with one hand, and Jungkook’s black chrome one with your other. 

“So, where’s the new beau?” Namjoon rocks back and forth on his heels, hoping to get a glimpse of the mystery boy you mentioned you’d be bringing as of two days ago. 

“He really had to go to the bathroom,” you squint your eyes to make out the newcomers exiting the dropoff area. “Oh, there he is. Kook!” 

Like a goddamn model, he struts in your field of vision like nobody’s business. Unlike you who stayed in your apartment all day before leaving, Jungkook decided to spend a few hours at Big Hit in the morning to tie up most of the loose ends before your trip. He’s talking to what you assume to be is a client, noting the way his brow furrows as he clutches his phone with a tight hold. He’s changed out of his tie and leather oxfords, but he’s dressed crisply in a dark button up and blazer ensemble, still wholly overdressed for a family reunion. 

Namjoon starts behind you, “He looks...” 

“Handsome?” you goad, elbowing him, “Charismatic? Undeniable presence?” 

“Hard.” 

You don’t know what to make of that adjective, and you subtly shrink further in your jacket as you mull over the implications of his word choice. 

Jungkook steps up to the two of you, ending his call. His eyes float between you and your brother, and he manages to put two and two together. “Hey man,” Jungkook gives a practiced smile, extending a hand. “I’m Jungkook, I’ve heard lots of things about you.” 

“Good things, I hope.” Namjoon chuckles, returning the handshake. “I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you, though. Can’t wait to get to know you this week.” 

“Looking forward to it,” Jungkook takes his luggage and Namjoon grabs yours, leading you two out to his minivan. While Namjoon is preoccupied with getting the car started, Jungkook looks at you as if he’s already regretting making the trip down. “This girl has two braincells to her name. I just got off the phone with Sorn’s publicist.” 

“What trouble can an influencer do?” you reply in disbelief. 

“Exactly, influencing is the trouble,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “she did some mukbang and now she’s in the hospital for food poisoning.” 

“Ah, don’t get too worked up,” you help him lug your suitcases in the trunk. You spot Namjoon subtly eyeing you two from the rear mirror. Pressing a thumb between his brows, you make work to melt away the 11-shaped stress lines on his forehead. “Let’s just send her a Lush gift basket and she’ll be fine.” 

You ignore the way Jungkook’s gaze lingers on you longer than needed, running over to your seat at shotgun. 

The inside of his car smells like bergamot and lemon, and the sweet, vulnerable side of you wants to cry over how much you’ve missed your brother’s scent. It’s been way too long. 

Once you’re all safely in the car and driving Namjoon says, “So, are you going to hide the engagement ring or give the family a collective heart attack?” 

You tense, hands automatically floating to the teardrop diamond weighing heavily on your ring finger. The story that you two contrived about your relationship isn’t too complicated, but complex enough that it seems convincing. Instead of being your boss, Jungkook is your Literary Agent who gives you referrals to new and upcoming authors. You working closely together and bonding over the stresses of the publishing world, have kept a secret relationship under wraps for over a year to avoid any unprofessionalism or favoritism. 

“I was thinking about that the whole ride, actually,” you twirl the metal back and forth, watching it gleam in the light. “Mom and dad know, but I don’t wanna lie to the rest of my family. They’ll freak out because it’s the first time they’re meeting Kook and we’re already engaged. It’s just a location thing, y’know. You guys don’t live in the city so we’ve never had a chance to really talk it out.” 

Namjoon snorts, “Or, because your boss never gives you a break.” 

If Jungkook finds any offense, he doesn’t show it. Putting what should be a comforting hand on your shoulder, he says from the back seat, “I already told you babe, do what makes you comfortable. But I don’t want to lie to your parents early on, you don’t wanna make the situation any more complicated.” 

In other words, you better tell them about our engagement because Taeyeon could be hiding in the bushes waiting to catch us. 

“Smart man,” Namjoon says shortly, but you can’t tell whether it’s a compliment or not. 

“Yeah,” you exhale, turning to smile stiffly at Jungkook, “no use hiding the inevitable, right?” 

The next couple hours are overwhelming. There’s a party right when you walk in your winter villa, your parents throwing you a reunion party (not for your family, but for you specifically because you’ve been MIA since Big Hit) with the house filled to the brim with family members. Within seconds your favorite cousin checks out the rock on your finger and screams that you’re engaged. 

Everyone must be so high off the fact that you’ve made it to a family event that they’re elated you have a life outside of work. Jungkook is treated like a prince, charming the hell out of all your aunties and baby cousins. 

“Oh, pumpkin!” your auntie squeals, linking arms with you while you’re trying to eat your dinner, “I just hugged your fiancé, and he has abs! Lucky you!” 

“Auntie,” you hiss playfully, “you hugged him that tight?” 

“He’s part of the family, isn’t he?” 

“Right,” you force a smile, downing your glass of champagne. The bubbles burn your throat pleasantly. 

“Babe, can you come here for a second?” Jungkook manages to swim his way through the throng in the living room, holding out a hand for you, “your mom said that our room is ready, care to lead the way?” 

His smile, as pretty as you can care to admit, renders your aunt speechless, and she lets him whisk you away to a long hallway that leads to a set of bedrooms. Jungkook lets go of your hand as soon as you're alone, letting his palm run along the pictures that decorate your hallway. 

He stops at a picture of you and Namjoon as kids, faces tanned and lips cherry red from your twin popsicles melting on your hands. “Wow,” Jungkook pretends to be alarmed, “I didn’t know you used to be cute, what happened?” 

“Shut up,” you smack his hand away, walking ahead of him. 

“I thought you guys reserved a bunch of houses, why does the furniture look worn and there’s pictures of you everywhere?” 

“Our extended family has reserved houses, but this is actually my family’s vacation home. I used to go here every winter and summer break,” you reach a bedroom in the corner of the hall, smiling at your wooden name tag hanging on the front, “this is my old room.” 

It certainly doesn’t have that youthful charm it once had, but there are still bits of your childhood scattering the room. There’s ticket stubs and photobooth strips tacked to a corkboard near your desk. Books that you would reread cover to cover are organized proudly on your shelf, worn for wear. 

Jungkook groans in relief, plopping his body down on your freshly made bed. “Your family’s really clingy.” he sighs, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

You turn to give him a snappy answer, but it dies in your throat when you see what he’s laying on. The familiar family quilt sinks under Jungkook’s weight, mocking you. You shriek, throwing your arms over to lug his body to the other side of the bed. Bundling up the quilt in your arms, you glare at a very appalled Jungkook. 

“The hell is wrong with you, woman!” he cries, not loud enough to escape the room, but enough to have your body vibrate in annoyance. 

“Jeon, they put the fucking baby blanket in my room,” you mutter more to yourself than him, folding it under your arms. 

The blanket is comfy in your grasp and you’re sure it’s clean, but the fact that you weren’t actually married and in love made its appearance a whole lot worse. 

“So?” his eyes are wide in confusion, “my mom still has my baby blanket too, I’m not gonna shoot anyone because of it.” 

“It’s not my baby blanket,” you admonish, “it’s the baby maker blanket. A weird family tradition when someone gets engaged.”

“Which means?” 

“They’re expecting us to fuck and have children.” 

The thought of procreating and starting a family with you must’ve caused all the champagne to return to his throat, and he looks a little pale. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” he lies back down on your mattress, and you leave him be so you can chuck the blanket back in your parents’ room. 

You’re barely out the door when a young man is waiting out in the hallway for you, poised to knock. “Hey, baby girl.” they throw you an easy lopsided grin, opening their arms to you. 

In your haste, you slam your bedroom door a little too loudly. “Yoongi!” You let yourself sink into his waiting arms, reveling in the familiar embrace you missed so much. Yoongi is Namjoon’s best friend and work buddy, not to mention the man you’ve had a crush on since you were able to walk. While you can safely say at this moment there is nothing serious going on, a small part of you always wishes there could be. 

His voice husks in your ear, “Why are we hugging in between the baby blanket?” 

“Oh!” you brush past him, opening the door to your parents’ room and flinging the offending item as far into their room as possible. “Sorry, Jungkook and I were a little freaked out when we saw it. We’re definitely not thinking about children right now.” 

“Jungkook,” he hums, and your smile falters just a tad when you see the way Yoongi tips his head down in thought, “It was quite the news. Congrats though.” 

You want to say what you’re supposed to say, that yes, you should be happy. But the selfish part of you does not want this exchange between you and Yoongi to be happening. When you get your quickie divorce in a year, the small, hopeful part of you hopes you and Yoongi could be something. 

Before you have a chance to fabricate a response, strong hands encircle your waist, and you feel Jungkook’s chin digging into your shoulder. 

“Thanks, man,” Jungkook’s voice rumbles, “we really appreciate it.” 

Yoongi gives a nod, muttering something about catching up later before he walks back to the party. 

It’s then that Jungkook’s weight feels impossibly heavy on your shoulders. “You know, you’ve been doing a really shitty job of being my wife-to-be ever since we landed,” Jungkook whispers, feather soft lips dusting across the shell of your ear. It’s an act so intimate you can imagine your family passing down the hallway could be mistaking you two for speaking unthinkable acts. A toddler cousin spots you two and giggles, babbling something to your uncle about how you’re hugging. “You did so well when we were with Taeyeon and Big Hit.” 

“It’s not the same when I’m lying to my family,” you turn to face him, equally simmering. “These are people that actually love and care for me, unlike you.” 

“At least I care about what’s most important,” he grits back, “our jobs, our futures. Is that not enough for you to keep it in your pants?” 

“Excuse me? You don’t even know him!” 

“I don’t have to know him because I’m holding you right now and you’re practically sweating through your cardigan.” he grimaces, digging his chin further into your collarbone, literally trying to get under your skin. “Your face looks like a cherry tomato.” 

You turn your head to bite back, your noses touching. The staring contest seems to last for days. Unlike Jungkook who doesn't know how to register basic human emotion, you still have hopes for a life after this. Before you have a chance to answer, your favorite cousin enters the hallway, oblivious to your concerns. Jimin’s red all over, passing you two flutes of blush champagne. “Hurry up, we’re making speeches!” 

Champagne is overflowing like Niagara, and you and Jungkook are the reason for it as you’re thrusted into the living room. Your weird uncle is in the middle of a long-winded speech about his fishing business and how dreams are made from ‘bait and a dream’. You make eye contact with him, and he gestures wildly to you and Jungkook. 

The crowd proceeds to go wild, echoes of speech! Speech! Reverberating throughout your living room. You and Jungkook share uneasy smiles, unsure of where to go with this show. 

Deciding it’s your family by blood, you start first. “Honestly, when I moved to New York I wasn’t expecting to feel so lonely,” you clutch your flute with both hands, swirling your drink absentmindedly. You then turn to Jungkook, giving him a tender smile which he returns back just as fondly. “Until I met Jungkook. I’m really happy that I get to share this week with the people I love the most, so let's drink to family!” 

Jungkook lifts his glass, “Thank you for the warm welcome, I can’t wait to spend time with all of you. This is my first Christmas with a large, loving family. Cheers to that!” 

The room erupts in cheers, allowing themselves to clink glasses and chase down their respective drinks. Even the little ones crowding the kiddie table in the back are enjoying their apple juice while making silly faces at the new couple. 

Jungkook weaves his arm between yours, and you get the signal to do a couples’ drink. He eyes you with mischief, as if to say we did it. After you two take your drink, Jimin’s the first to drunkenly yell, “Ohmygod just kiss already!” 

“Kiss kiss kiss!” 

“This is going on my story so make it good!” 

“Kiss him before I do!” 

“Oh my god,” you groan, throwing your forehead on Jungkook’s chest. Your family really is something else. 

As if the chants can’t get any louder, it’s hard to focus on anything but Jungkook’s presence. Jungkook lifts your chin up, murmuring, “Let’s give the people what they want.” and he presses his lips to yours. 

It’s awkward at first. Why wouldn’t it be, you’re making out with your boss, in front of your family, pretending to be engaged. But Jungkook doesn’t let up, parting your lips slightly to deepen the kiss. As much as you want to make up how terrible and disgusting kissing Jungkook is, it really isn’t. His lips are soft and he tastes like the peach champagne, and his grip on your waist is strong and warm. 

He leaves you breathless when you pull away, a smirk on his lips for a brief moment before he turns shyly to your family who are probably foaming at the mouth now. 

Maybe it’s the champagne coursing through your veins, but why does it suddenly feel so hot in the middle of winter? 

The first day back starts off wholly uneventful, with Jungkook working on some manuscripts and you preparing dinner with Jimin. Most of your family is on the resort hitting the slopes, so you’re quite thankful for the reprieve since the party was so overwhelming. The blonde is all smiles as he bumps the oven closed with his leg, letting your lasagna bake to perfection. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Jimin rests his head on your shoulder, “it’s definitely not the same when we’re adults. Frankly, it sucks balls.” 

“Big balls,” you agree, gnawing on a leftover baguette from last night. 

“Speaking of big balls,” Jimin wiggles his brows as you attempt to move farther from him.

“Please don’t say it.” 

“C’mon! Just tell me if the sex is good!” 

“No!” you cry, flicking your crumbs at him. 

“I will open this oven,” his hands are already on the handle, “and your dish will undercook.” 

“Don’t you dare!” he opens the oven a tad, and you slam your hand down. “Fine! The sex is fantastic, happy?” 

“Ewh, no!” The storm door swings open, revealing Namjoon, Yoongi, and Lisa, Namjoon’s lady friend. “I didn’t need to hear that, thanks.” 

Your face looks absolutely pained as you watch the two older men walk in. They were the last people you’d ever want to share about your sex life too, even if it is fake. You can only bear to look properly at Lisa as they kick off their boots and shake the snow off their heads. Lisa pokes her tongue in her cheek, looking at you with a wild look in her eyes. “I’ve heard so much about your current drama. Can’t wait to hear the 411 from you, though.” 

Yoongi looks unfazed, then again you never really know what’s going on in his head. “You guys wanna go to a movie tonight?” Yoongi asks, grabbing a slice of the baguette and dipping it in a dish of olive oil. “I think the one that’s showing is based on a book your company published.”

“Is it ‘Rotten Love’?” 

“That’s the one.” 

Pushing yourself off the counter, you nod eagerly. “I’ll go tell Jungkook to get ready. We can eat dinner real quick and then go right after,” you grab a bottle of water from the fridge, “Joonie, set up the table please.” 

Jungkook doesn’t notice you walk in, and you can hear the faint sound of Muse blasting from his Airpods. He’s on your floor, doing pushups while reading a transcript under him. This time he’s using your iPad, every few seconds taking a thumb to scroll down. Sweating through his shirt, you can see the beads running along his silver reading glasses. It’s completely contradictory, your muscle bunny of a boss getting in his reps while psychoanalyzing a potential novel, but somehow it works with him. 

“Maniac,” you mutter, bending down to place the cool water bottle on his cheek. He stops abruptly, like you’ve pressed the pause button on his seemingly robotic arms. Seriously, you can’t fathom how he manages to do both. You swipe the iPad under his body in place of a white towel, which he accepts gratefully. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to snap him out of it, sometimes you’d catch him at the company gym nearing 10PM, reading on the treadmill. 

“What time is it?” he asks, fluting the water bottle down his throat. 

Ignoring the way his neck glistens in sweat, you say, “It’s almost seven. C’mon, we’re gonna eat dinner and watch a movie. You’ve cooped yourself up in this room all day, time to interact with the world.” 

“What movie?” 

“The book we published in 2018, ‘Rotten Love’? They made it into a movie,” and you can’t help the wry grin that takes over your face when you say your next words, “guess who directed it.” 

He sighs, rubbing the towel over his damp hair. The normally styled strands fall limply at his forehead. “I don’t remember, I shifted over that project to PR. Any director’s fine, but please please please don’t let it be—”

“Jung Hoseok!”

“Son of a bitch, we gotta go.” And it’s the first time in a while you see a genuine smile graze his features, one not laced with you and your marriage. It’s an old pastime for you both to get picky over Jung’s work. “I swear, he better not put his scenes all over the place like last time, I got whiplash.” 

After a quick dinner you all pile into Namjoon’s minivan, making your way to the theatre. The drive is fast, and before you know it you’re waiting in line to get inside. It seems that the PR between the film studio and Big Hit did a good job assisting, because there’s a sizable line despite being half an hour early. 

“So honey,” Lisa leans into you, squishing you further into Jungkook’s shoulder. “Did you like, help out with the publishing of this novel? To be honest I don’t even know what your job is,” Lisa admits with a shrug, “you’re not a glorified coffee girl, are you?” 

“No,” her mixed enthusiasm never fails to stump you, “Ah, but I really didn’t do much in the production of ‘Rotten Love’,” you reply easily, relaxing into Jungkook as he moves to drape an arm around your shoulder. “I just told my boss to sign some documents n’stuff. It’s really nothing—”

“Babe, are you kidding? You ran the whole freakin’ project!” and you’re in shock, because for the first time in the history of ever, Jeon Jungkook is paying you a real compliment. “It was her first assignment when she got hired as the big boss’ assistant. A lot of people in the office doubted her,” he squeezes your shoulder, “but not for one second did I doubt her, you could see how hard she worked to make it perfect. I heard the boss was really impressed, too.” 

You remember that period of time. Jungkook made you dive headfirst into the publishing for ‘Rotten Love’, letting you sink or swim in his decision for keeping you employed. After a full month of meetings, negotiations, and debating whether you should have caffeine IV’ed in your body to save time on eating, you got Jungkook’s evaluation. You remember the stoicism in Jungkook’s frame as he surmised your work, throwing you a flippant “it’s decent” before sending you off to do more work. 

Relief flooded your system after those two simple words, because that meant you had a chance and you could keep your job. But this? If what he’s saying is true, you’re on Cloud 9. 

“Awh, thanks Kook.” you squeeze his arm, letting your fingers trail down to lace your fingers with his. 

Lisa’s face is all scrunched, and she doesn’t hesitate to stretch over you to smush Jungkook’s cheek between her two fingers. Her blue nails dig into his soft skin. “I like him, honey. Keep him, he’s so cute.” 

She leaves you alone after that, skipping over to bother Namjoon about buying an extra bucket of popcorn. 

“At first I was nervous having you near my family for a week,” you say brightly, rubbing a thumb over his hand, “but I kinda like seeing you try so hard to not rip other people’s heads off.” 

He puffs out his cheeks in an attempt to soothe the stinging. “Could be worse, I could be engaged to Karen.” 

With that you laugh, loud enough to turn heads and have Jimin and Lisa send you adoring looks. Jungkook sends you a nervous smile, the one that he’d always send you during team meetings when he was unsure of how to respond to something. Instead of giving him a smart answer, you get on your tiptoes to pat his reddened cheek. “But she’s right, you are kinda cute when you wanna be.” 

Instead of replying, he squeezes your hand tighter to lead you inside. 

Everything is smooth sailing after that. You, Jimin and Yoongi are saving the seats while Jungkook, Lisa and Namjoon are getting the refreshments. Jimin is prattling on about a new job interview and you’re listening attentively, while Yoongi shoots off advice every time Jimin says he’s nervous. 

Yoongi looks past Jimin to give you that gummy smile that always made your chest ache. “Chim, remember when she applied to work at Jamba Juice?” 

“Oh my god,” Jimin giggles, clutching your arm. “When you had to do a trial run in front of the manager? You forgot to put the lid on the blender and you sprayed the staff with green juice?” 

“The stains took forever to get out,” you pouted. “And I didn’t appreciate the snaps you saved of me. I got nervous because you were recording me!” 

“Am I hearing some juicy details about your childhood?” Jungkook appears, passing a huge tub of buttery popcorn to Yoongi. 

“Emphasis on juice,” Yoongi says tartly, popping a handful of kernels in his mouth. 

“Yes, do you wanna see a picture of your fiancé covered in green juice? She wore a low-cut shirt that day so it got deep, man.” Jimin says, using his hands to gesture obscenely to his own chest. 

You’re mortified, and you push down Jimin’s phone and cover whatever receipts he has on you. “Jimin, I’d like to stay engaged, if you don’t mind?” 

Your not-so-favorite cousin cackles in response, telling Jungkook that they’ll talk later. 

“Here,” Jungkook cooly hands you a King-Sized KitKat. 

“Awh,” you marvel, immediately opening the wrapper, “you actually read my notes and found out what my favorite candy was?” 

He scoffs, dark bangs blowing up. “Who doesn’t like KitKats?” but you’re giving him the look, and he sighs, “C’mon babe, just gimmie a break.” 

“Ha-ha,” but you break off a piece anyway, lifting it to Jungkook’s lips. It’s then that the theatre starts to dim, and the telltale signs of the movie begin. “Ready to rip Jung Hoseok to shreds?” 

“Always.” 

Barely fifteen minutes pass and Jungkook is spreading his legs. You’re about to kick him before he leans in to whisper, “They made Renee too dull,” he sighs in disappointment, as if he sincerely had high hopes they’d bring the novel to justice. “I mean, I get it, in the novel she’s supposed to be a plain Jane. But she isn’t grey.” 

“Right?” you lean into Jungkook, throwing your legs over his thighs like you’re back at the airport. This isn’t out of intimacy, you think to yourself, you just need to be close enough to Jungkook so you don’t disturb the other patrons with your talking. “She’s either a bad actress or they messed up her character. I really got upset when I read this part, but it’s kinda bland on the screen.” 

As much as you love Jimin, you know he’s not going to get your over-criticality over the media. Yoongi and Namjoon are on the other end of the row, but they wouldn’t be too pleased having you gab over the movie because you’re too much of an aficionado. Jungkook is the only one who can tête-à-tête, or in this case, Kit-a-Kat with you. 

You sigh into his shoulder, inhaling his clean scent. “Let’s pray Jung didn’t completely butcher the chapter where Kenzo reflects on his penniless journey.” 

“I’ll leave the theatre right then and there if that happens, care to join me?” 

“Already out the door, bossman.” 

Jungkook looks away from the screen briefly, reaching forward to take an obnoxiously big bite of the KitKat in your hand. You stifle a giggle, and before you can soak up his cheeky grin he’s already looking back at the movie. 

You wonder what Jungkook is like outside of work, if he has that side to him. A little part of you wishes that this playfulness he’s exuding is real. Not to your fake marriage, but a playfulness he can execute to a person that he really likes. Two days out of the office and you’re starting to see that Jungkook has the capabilities to enjoy life, however simple it may be. 

The movie is finished in a blur, and you and Jungkook are still bickering over the intricacies of the film compared to the novel. The night air is cold and burns your cheeks, reminding you exactly how late you’ve been out.

“Well, I thought the romance was so boring!” Lisa blurted, wanting an in. Her lime green ski jacket glares in your vision, and you move away from her immediately. “No one cheated on each other, there was no drama, or evil best friend!” 

“Whoa there,” and you see the little fire in Jungkook’s eyes, one you’ve learned early on to stay away from when you spent hours in his office debating over manuscripts and plotlines. He stares down at Lisa, really stares down. “You think every romance needs some sort of internalized conflict for it to be good? Why can’t they just grow and learn from the external conflict together? It’s literally useless for them to break up over and over just—”

And that’s your cue to walk ahead of them, because while you did agree with Jungkook, you’ve heard this debate one too many times. Ever the closet-romantic at heart. You hope Lisa doesn’t lose her patience and punch him out. 

“Hey,” you feel a hand pat your hair, and you look up at Yoongi. He looks absolutely fluffy in his long puffy jacket, and he matches your steps with his. “Do I look ugly tonight, or something? I feel like we barely exchanged two sentences with each other.” 

“What, never!” you chastise, “you always look good, Yoongi. And we have the whole week to catch up, remember?”

“Really, then why don’t we go out in two days to pick out a tree for your house? Joon and I are planning on going.” 

“I would love to go pick a tree!” you exclaim, “the last time we got a tree together was when your brother had to lift.” 

“Great,” and he pats your head again, but this time his hand lingers to finger the ringlets of your hair. “It’ll be just like old times, baby girl. I’ll pick you up at 9.” 

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Jungkook’s argument ended minutes ago and he’s mulling over a new type of internal conflict. 

“Owie, ow, ow—fuck you! Ow!” 

“Well if you just hold still,” Jungkook grimaces, taking his turns with both hands to simultaneously wipe the injury with a cloth and then pressing the affected area with an ice bag. 

“Buh ih hurths!” your voice is muffled by the cloth, stained red with freshly bloomed blood. 

The ski lodge started off great. You enjoyed a fabulous beligan waffle breakfast courtesy of Jimin’s parents, and then made the trek to the slopes. You’ve been here dozens of times, so you didn’t feel an inclination to gravitate to any of the fancy schmancy sports. You were fine playing shuffleboard inside, but your inner youth complained that it’s the holidays and you should be getting out more.

Jimin and Jungkook (who claimed he hasn't snowboarded since he was 16 yet he’s doing tricks like a goddamn Olympian) were shredding on the slopes while Namjoon and Lisa were skiing on a smaller hill. You and Yoongi watched safely from the lift, riding it like a kiddie attraction. You must’ve taken the lift at least ten times, complaining about how you’re both too lazy to function and you could really use a hot chocolate and a fireplace. 

After the fifteenth time on the lift, legs numb, you stumble over with heavy boots to where Lisa and Namjoon were waiting for Jimin and Jungkook. They wanted to walk around more and see if they could try a more difficult slope. 

While you were waiting, you had to admit that Jungkook did kind of cool all decked out in his gear. A competitive, playful smile was easily reflected in his gaze despite his helmet and goggles. 

That slight admiration is knocked right off your feet when Jungkook speeds by way too close for comfort and you’re in his path. Jimin had already slowed next to your friends and family, looking at you in anticipated horror.

It’s far too late, and despite the fact that Jungkook manages to pull your body to his while you wipe out, your face crashes into his helmet and you taste metal. 

Mildly disoriented from the impact, Jungkook’s muffled string of curses nurse you back to a decent consciousness as he tries to carry you to the lodge.

“Holy shit, I got that on camera!” Jimin cries, gesturing to the Go-Pro nestled in his helmet. 

So now you’re in pain and it’s all Jungkook’s fault. Your bottom lip is split, and the burn on your face won’t go away. 

You watch as Jungkook dotes on you, his bangs pushed up everywhere due to his grey goggles haphazardly being propped upon his forehead. His pink tongue sticks out as he concentrates on not getting blood on your sweater. It’s just you and him that are stuck around in the lodge after you got pummeled, standing by the fire while everyone else continues on with the fun. 

“Why were you over there anyway, in the middle of the slope?” he scolds. 

“It was the slow down zone, Jeon. You were the only one not slowing down, you speed demon.” 

“Sorry,” he says gruffly, pressing a little too hard with the ice and you wince. He lets up and presses the cloth to your lips to soak up the moisture.

“Did you say something?” 

“I said, I’m sorry.” 

You sigh dramatically, “I wish I had a camera to save that shitty excuse of an apology.” 

“Speaking of cameras,” he shucks his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Jimin uploaded the video.” 

That man, you don’t know where he has the means to quickly upload and edit things, but if it’s for the ‘Gram, it’s worth it to Jimin. You open Instagram and immediately click on @chimmyboi’s story, immediately wincing as the first few seconds reveal the brunt of the impact. He should really put a disclaimer before uploading content. 

The tumble between you and Jungkook doesn’t look so bad, but it’s when you get up does it look gnarly. Your chin is dribbling in red liquid, and Jungkook’s throwing off his helmet and goggles in a panic. 

He makes a half-assed snowball where you’re lying on the ground, pressing it against your mouth. With his other hand he pulls you into a sitting position, not caring that you’re staining his clothes as he hauls you on his body. 

“Ohmygod,” you splutter, trying not to move your lips, “I look like I got decked with a hockey puck.” 

“It wasn’t that bad, don’t be a baby.” Jungkook sees the piecing glare you give him, and he sighs. “Okay, it looked pretty bad. I was a little worried back there, but now the bleeding pretty much stopped and holy shit—stop smiling! You’re making it open up further!” 

“You were worried?” 

“Shut up.” 

The ice bag is watery and not doing much anymore, but Jungkook still insists to cool your face down. You lift a hand to his cold ones, attempting to take the bag and cloth from his grasp. 

“You should go board with Jimin and the rest of them. I can take care of this.” 

“It’s fine,” he reasons, reaching for the ice bag but you hold on tighter. 

“C’mon, I know the only thing you were looking forward to this entire trip was going snowboarding. I’m a big girl, I can be alone for an hour or two.” 

Jungkook locks his jaw, gnawing at his cheek as he mulls on his decision. “Wouldn’t I look like a bad partner if I leave you?”

“Nah, this has happened before. Almost always someone gets injured on the trip. Last time something like this happened I was eight and I got five stitches on my leg. This is nothing. You’re fine.” 

“But still.” 

“Fine, you wanna make it up to me?” 

You scan the room for any ideas, and it settles on a trio of girls huddled by the register of the built-in café. They’re pretty snow bunnies, decked out in sweater dresses and fur lined boots. They remind you a little of The Powerpuff Girls, all in pastels and attached to the hip. Their gaze has taken hostage in Jungkook’s frame, blatantly ignoring the fact that majority of his attention is directed towards you. You wonder why you haven’t noticed them sooner, because now the staring is getting borderline discomforting. 

Slipping off his goggles with your free hand, you gesture subtly to the girls. “They think you’re hot. Go flirt with them a little and get me a free drink, I’m sure they’ll pay for you.” 

He doesn’t understand the correlation, “Why would I do that?” 

You shrug, separating the strands of hair that stick to his forehead. “Lisa and Namjoon do it all the time when they go clubbing. They compete and pretend they’re single for like two hours, and then they keep a tally of how many people offer to buy them a drink.” 

“That is completely different, but I’m open to trying it when we get back to the city.” he acknowledged briefly, getting up from his crouching position. “I got a better idea.” 

Puzzled, you watch him saunter over to the register. Like bees to the honey, the girls follow Jungkook with their eyes, watching him exaggeratedly mull over the menu. 

He spares the slightest of head inclinations to the drooling trio, “Hello ladies.” The smile is not flirtatious, but kind. 

You suppress a giggle, burying your chin in your scarf as you watch the whole interaction. You don’t even know why you asked Jungkook if he would flirt with those girls, as he kept most of his dates private over the years. You picture a college-aged Jungkook getting his daily breakfast on his way to class, ignoring the way his presence attracts heads. 

The barista hands Jungkook a tray filled with a plastic cup of ice, and a cup filled with something hot, and a chocolate croissant. He grabs a straw from a tray, stabbing it in the hot drink’s lid. 

“Excuse me,” one of the girls coquettishly puts her hands behind her back, puffing her chest out as she leans over Jungkook’s order. “The regular croissants actually taste better in my opinion.” 

“Well my wife’s had a hard day, so I think she deserves something sweet.” 

He doesn’t even turn around as he makes a beeline to where you’re seated on a loveseat, carefully placing the tray on the coffee table. 

“Your better idea was making them jealous?” you ask, unsure of his intentions. 

He shrugs, “College-Jungkook always wanted to show off his girlfriend like that, so indulge me for a second, alright?”

Rolling your eyes you reply, “My life is about indulging you. Don’t forget the trips I’ve made to the grocery store when your personal fridge was out of banana—”

“I thought I said we don’t speak of those hard times,” he cuts you off, “ever.”  

You stop him from filling up your ice bag with the ice he brought. “C’mon Jeon, you’re burning daylight out there. I got this. You’ve stalled enough, go have fun in the snow with Jimin, you adrenaline junkie.” 

He scrunches his nose, but relents when you throw him his jacket and goggles. Before he pulls on his gloves, he cups your face with both hands to pull you in a kiss. His hands are cold from the ice, gluing you in place in fear of him kissing you too hard. But it’s barely that, a brushing of lips so tender as he takes extra care with your open lip. 

“Is this also a self-indulgent request?” you pucker, “who knew there was a hormonal teenager under that editor-in-chief’s body.” 

His eyes flicker to the audience in the back, and you don’t need to look behind you to note that they’re glaring daggers in your head. It’s like you’re straight out of a rom-com. 

“You’re leaving me to the bunnies,” you say teasingly. 

“Then hurry up and get better so you can join us,” he taunts, “or else you can’t help me bury Jimin in the snow.” 

It’s a tempting offer that makes you down your drink so you can enjoy the rest of your day. 

Light seeps through your windows, rays kissing your eyelashes and willing them to open. You groan, hand splaying out to wake up Jungkook. When you find his space empty and cool, you sit up and search for your fake-fiancé. 

He’s on the floor, smack in the middle of his morning workout. Your iPad is under his body, and somehow he’s managed to find a setting where the document scrolls for him automatically. He’s not wearing his Airpods, so you rasp, “Jeon, you’re crazy. I get the morning workout, but you don’t have to look over any more transcripts. I think you’ve read enough for this week.” 

“It helps me ignore the burn,” he says shortly, and you see the ripples of his back flex with every push-up. “And I wouldn’t have to do so much reading if my assistant would just do her job.” 

“I already told you, I’m not working during my vacation.” you throw off the sheets, padding to your closet. “I’m going to pick the tree today. You should go to the mall with my mom and Jimin to pick out some new ornaments.” 

“What?” he gets up, and you ignore the perfect view of tight muscles decorating his abs. Exactly how long was he awake for to have sweat clinging to his shirt? You’re going to short-circuit and it’s barely 8:30. “But I wanna go help pick out the tree.” 

“You don’t have to do that, Joon and Yoongi got it.” 

“Yoongi, really? You think he can carry a tree?” 

“This isn’t a pissing contest, Jeon.” you settle on a burgundy Patagonia jacket and grey leggings. “Besides, Yoongi and I are just friends.”

“You sure about that, baby girl?” 

You whip around to poke at his chest, and you ignore how smug he looks. “Do not test me, Jeon. Like you said, I’m with you every step of the way in this marriage. I’m not going to jeopardize that over some childhood crush.” 

“Wow, your life is really turning into a Wattpad entry,” he admonishes, “fake-fiancé still pining over his older brother’s best friend, really high-qual stuff.” 

“I’m serious.” you grit, “I took a week off so I can get away from you and that was ruined, so I would like a little bit of space today.” 

And that gets Jungkook to back away. His face deflates a little, and you feel a little guilty for making him upset, but you stab that thought down and convince yourself that he deserves it. It’s not like he cares about you, he just wants to show off to the boys.

“Fine,” he turns around to put on a fresh shirt, and you almost notice the pout marrying his face. “You could’ve just told me you wanted space. I’m getting kind of tired of you too, you know.” 

He flops on the bed and you huff in reply, quickly throwing on your attire inside your closet while he watches a YouTube video. You check your phone, and at 8:59 a knock is at your door. Jungkook doesn’t bother to get up to answer, and you open the door to see a sleepy Yoongi with a paper cup in his hand. 

“An English breakfast with two sugars and a dash of milk, baby girl.” 

You mask your wince at the pet name. It hadn’t bothered you when you were young, but its starting to feel coddling now that Jungkook is making you hyper-aware of the attention. “Perfect,” you faux-beam, the hot beverage warm your fingers. 

“I’ll just warm up the car and—”

“Babeeeeee,”  the deepest, sexiest voice echoes from your bed and out in the hallway. He sounds absolutely tempting, and needy. You freeze at the way your boss can so easily pretend he’s exhausted and wanting you, “come back to bedddddd. I’m not done with you yet.” 

Yoongi’s ears are red, “Aaand, I’ll let you finish whatever business you have.” 

The older man bolts out of there, and you snap your head back to look at an innocent Jungkook. He tilts his head at your bout of anger. 

“You know, I have half a mind to fling this tea down your shirt.” 

“What?” he looks at you like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “He can’t be the only one who can call you baby.” 

Honestly, you didn’t mean to lash out on Jungkook like that. You did need to put up a face as you were each other's significant others, but it doesn’t mean you have to be together all the time. To top it all off you’ve been feeling weird as of late, and you can only attribute these terrible feelings to a certain brunet who’s been sleeping in your bed. 

But you pin these feelings for another time, because you need to enjoy what little quality time you have with your brother. 

“Hey, whaddya think of this one?” It's just you and Namjoon picking the tree, and Yoongi’s sitting in the cabin keeping warm. He said to call him once you’ve decided, since it is your house. 

“Hm, it’s fine.” you shrug, inhaling the pine. “Maybe a little too tall.” 

Namjoon nods, and you follow him to the next row of greenery. He’s been pensive this whole time, and you have a feeling he’s hiding something. Surrounded by pine and the fresh winter air he says, “Hey, I just wanna say sorry.” 

“Why, did you like that tree over there? I don’t mind it, we can go back!” 

“What, no? I’m sorry for being weird around Jungkook.” 

“Huh?” sure, you noticed the weird language and terseness he gave Jungkook initially, but you chalked it out as big brother issues. 

You two continue to walk around the forest aimlessly, not really tree hunting. 

“I was just upset that the engagement was so sudden,” Namjoon starts, and you feel the guilt start to set camp in your stomach. “And I don’t know, at first he just didn’t seem like your type? I always thought you wanted to date someone gentle, someone you could hold and depend on. He looked so serious, and maybe a little immature.”

“He is a little immature,” you agree softly, digging your boots in the snow, “but I don’t love him any less because of it. We’re growing together.” Shit, why was that so easy for you to say? 

“Figured,” and Namjoon stops to place a hand on your shoulder, “I see the way he looks at you, and you can’t fake love like that.” 

Namjoon’s admonition is so convincing that you almost convince yourself that it is something. 

Something is bothering Jungkook, and he doesn’t know why. 

It’s not the billions of charges he made on his credit card for new ornaments, because it simultaneously inflated his ego and impressed your mom. 

It’s not the way Jimin hangs onto his every word and doesn’t let up, because it is refreshing to have your cousin find a genuine interest in him. 

Jungkook, Jimin and your mom have been taking laps around the mall for the past hour. They’ve floated around here and there, picking out whatever catches their eye for the tree. 

Jimin’s in the middle of explaining the Jamba Juice story when a glimmering window display catches his eye. 

“Hun, have you not bought her a present yet?” your mom says over his shoulder. 

“No,” he exhales, embarrassed that he just admitted he didn’t think of getting you anything in front of your mom. “She doesn’t ask for anything, really.” Besides her book published, a raise, and a potential promotion as editor, but they didn’t need to know that much. 

“Good thing you’re with the right people!” Jimin cheers, ushering him into the jewelry store. 

Funny enough, he knows exactly what to get you. Once he points it out, Jimin and your mom “ooh” and “aah” respectively, agreeing that what he chose was perfect. If you had asked Jungkook a week ago what kind of jewlery you like, he’d give you a dumb look and say “something shiny.” But that’s what’s bothering him. He just walked right into the store, saw what was right, and everything just clicked. 

Jungkook pins that thought for later, because once their shopping is done they’re back at your villa, arranging the ornaments and detangling the lights that have been holed up in the closet for eleven months. 

Jimin and he are sitting on the living room floor, stabbing thread through popcorn. He really only saw this craft in the movies, and the small part of him is amazed that you and your family go through the hard work to make your holidays so warm. 

Your mom appears from her bedroom, clutching something in her hand. She sits in front of Jungkook, a huge smile on her face. 

“Before you say anything,” and it strikes him how similar you are to your mother. There’s that tone he always receives before he gets new news, or the way you’re eager to share something that will make him happy. “I don’t want you to think this is a luxurious gift or anything. But I realized that you don’t have a wedding band so I went through my old cases and found this.” 

She opens her palm slowly, revealing a simple black band. 

Jungkook’s lips part to form words, but his vocal cords betray him. At first glance, this ring could’ve been mistaken for one of Jimin’s plentiful rings adorning his fingers. Upon closer inspection however, Jungkook notes that this band is thinner and more worn. The metal looks strong and old, the slight scratches and faded color revealing that it was a well-loved piece of jewelry. 

Your mom is offering Jungkook a wedding band. 

“If you don’t like it, that’s okay!” your mom says quickly, nerves radiating because of Jungkook’s silence. “It was my grandfather’s. Don’t feel as if you have to accept it. It’s not a wedding band persay, but I think it matches and it looks about your size and we didn’t get you a Christmas gift so—”

“It’s perfect.” Jungkook tells her firmly, sending him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, I guess we kind of rushed the engagement so I didn’t think of getting a band of my own.” 

Your mother is grateful, dropping the ring in Jungkook’s awaiting palm. “I think my daughter should be the one who puts it on you, don’t you think?” 

“Right,” he echoes, and he just stares at the ring in his hand, feeling weird in his chest. He can’t remember the last time someone put this much thought in getting him something this significant. He can’t accept this ring, but he can’t refuse it either. “I could never find something with this much value from a little shop in New York, so thank you.” 

“Oh, and while we’re on the topic of New York,” Jimin puts down his completed popcorn wreath, “y/n said she already put in her off days for Easter, so you should too. It’ll be at my place this year, and I live by an indoor skydiving zone. She mentioned you’re an adrenaline junkie.” 

“She also mentioned that your birthday’s in September.” your mom pops in, “We were thinking we could take Friday off and stop by for the weekend. I’ve always wanted to see Hamilton!” 

Jungkook knows they’re trying to cheer him up. They’re trying to make him feel part of the family, feel wanted. But he can’t remember the last time he’s felt wanted unless it’s for a book deal or a business exchange. It’s been so long since he’s felt this warm, and he didn’t realize how much he yearned for it until he proposed to you.

“Hey man,” Jimin puts an arm around his trembling shoulders, “are you alright?” 

“Fine,” he’s crying, and doing a shit job at hiding the tears. “It’s alright, I just,” he can’t even find the strength to get up and walk away from this. Is it pathetic that he’s breaking down in the comfort of your cousin and mom, starved for affection? “I just, I miss my family. It’s just the four of us, but they’re all the way in Korea and it’s been awhile since I’ve really celebrated anything with them. They visit sometimes but it’s not the same, y’know? And work is so stressful but I’m not in a position to say that. And your family is just so, so nice and it makes me miss them even more. You’re all so lucky to support each other like this.” 

Jimin and your mom sandwich him like an Oreo. It’s almost funny, how two smaller humans are comforting this big human and not the other way around. “Poor baby, it’s your family too.” 

Pathetic. It’s pathetic how much he wishes to have a family like yours, but he can’t have that. 

“Can we please not tell y/n about this?” Jungkook wishes, leaning his head on your mom’s. “She’s going through a lot right now with work and stuff, I’d rather just talk to her about this after the holidays, if that’s okay.” 

“It’s quite alright, sweetheart,” your mom runs a hand through his hair, and his eyes automatically flutter closed, “just remember, your feelings matter too, okay?” 

You and Jungkook slip into bed at the same time, murmuring half-hearted “how was your days” and brief descriptions of your outings. It’s a little awkward considering the morning’s events, but not unbearable. 

“The tree smells really nice,” Jungkook tries, looking up from his phone. 

“Yeah, makes the whole room smell like Christmas.” 

“Yeah.”

“Did you have a good time shopping, find anything good?” 

“Yeah.”

“That’s nice.” 

[11:29] Jimin: hey, you know my room’s right next to yours right? 

[11:29] Jimin: we share a goddamn wall and im NOT hearing shit

[11:29] Jimin: are you putting that baby blanket to good use ;)

[11:30] You: YOU”REE DISGUSTING are we even family!!!!  Can i disown a first cousin?? 

[11:30] Jimin: i’m just sayin.. U said it was fantastic

You throw your phone away, letting it slide off to the mattress and onto the baby blanket. Yes, the baby blanket is unfortunately here to stay. Over the course of three days, the quilt is like a ball in a tennis match between you and your mother. You’ve given up and just kept it on the floor. 

“I have a question,” you say aloud, motioning to your bed partner. 

“Shoot.” 

“Was it true when you said I was the only girl you knew well enough to be your wife?”

“Of course, that’s why we’re here.” 

“I’m just wondering, because I really thought you could pick any girl in the office to be yours.” you stuff your hands under the covers, playing with your ring. “I mean, you’re kinda-sorta handsome. You could’ve picked someone just as pretty and they would have studied your whole life story for you.” 

Jungkook's phone falls in his lap, and he looks at you like you’ve lost a couple brain cells. “Normally, I would eat up the fact that you admitted I was attractive. But do you realize you’re just as beautiful, if not more?” 

What? 

“I know it’s unprofessional, but how professional can we get when we’re married, but you’re the whole package, y/n.” and he says it with such fervor, you can’t formulate a response. “I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else. No one else can take my shit and throw it right back in my face, or debate with me for hours on end about a novel’s direction. Only you can do that.” 

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, “thanks, you’re right. I’m just clouded, and stressed. And Jimin’s being an ass and it’s really bothering me.” 

His chocolate eyes flicker in the darkness of your bedroom, making note of your phone on the floor. “What’d he say?” 

“It’s stupid, he said that he thinks it’s weird he hasn’t heard us bang all week,” you force a laugh, “it’s my fault though, he wouldn’t get off my back so I gave up and told him the sex was fantastic.” 

“Are you worried he’s unconvinced?” 

“A little, maybe? I don’t know.” you’re wrinkling your bedsheets now, turning the cotton into putty as your sweaty palms wring at the edge. 

“I don’t mind giving him a show.” Jungkook blurts, and you instinctively pull the covers closer to your chest, even though you’re fully clothed. 

“What, like fake moan into the wall?” 

“There are things you can do over the clothes,” he says matter-of-factly, pulling the sheet of his bedside down slightly. “And you just said you’re stressed. I’d be a bad fiancé to not let you relieve some of that tension.” 

Jungkook opens his arms and gestures for you to get on his lap. Your body is hot all over, and you can’t tell if it’s because you’re horrified or aroused. Maybe a little of both. 

“Are you kidding—you’re my boss!” 

“And we’re consenting adults!” he narrows his eyes at you, “don’t say you’ve never thought about it before.”

And the sick, twisted part of you has, a lot. There’s something about a man in a tailored suit and owning up to its power that’s really attractive. Not to mention all those times they’d be traveling for work, stumbling for a quick McDonald's bite at 12AM and he’d be dressed casually in tight black jeans and combat boots. The energy really kept you on your toes. 

“Wow, I really hate late-night talks. All the secrets come out, don’t they?” 

“If it makes you feel better, your ass looks great in pencil skirts,” you turn to him with flared eyes, “what? I’m just trying to let you know I mayhaps find you attractive.” 

“Mayhaps you should stop talking before I regret this.” 

His eyebrows lift and disappear from his bangs, the hair freshly dried and fluffy from his late night shower. He then pats his lap with a little blasé as if to say “hop on”, and you ignore the way how good the seat looks, his boxer briefs doing nothing to hide his unmentionables. 

Trying to fight alongside your last drop of dignity, you take your time. 

“C’mon y/n, don’t make it weird.” 

“It’s been weird, Jeon! Jimin’s next door!” you hiss, backing away slightly, “Give me some time, I can’t just hump my boss!” 

“You’re not humping your boss.” Jungkook has the audacity to grin, the expression looking absolutely sinful in the moonlight. “Think of it as your lover wanting to make you feel good.” 

The bridge between love and hatred is a fine, fine line stemmed by passion. 

Careful, you lift your blankets up and slip out of them, moving to sit up. It’s ridiculous, tiptoeing around your bed to avoid any sudden creaks in the aged wood of your mahogany headboard. 

“We’re out to prove to your family we fuck on the reg,” Jungkook snips, “you can make noise.” 

Within seconds, he’s hauling you on his lap. You squeak in surprise, feeling the thin material of his boxers seep through your thin silk shorts. You wriggle around, monitoring Jungkook’s expression. He does not allude too much, but you take note of the way Jungkook secures you with his hands between the swells of your thighs. 

“I’m not a rollercoaster, stop adjusting like you’re gonna buckle up.” 

Jungkook’s dry humor lightens the mood considerably, and you can’t help but smile timidly at his attempt to make you feel at ease. He lets you take your time, and you never imagined someone so demanding in the office can be so… kind in bed. 

You dip forward to kiss his lips once, twice. He looks needy, but lets you set the pace. You appreciate that. You’re salivating at his willingness to make you feel good, and you whimper as he nibbles on a sensitive spot on your neck. 

You need more. Sensing your urgency when you jerk his chin up, he muffles your sounds with a harsh kiss, taking care to moan deeply into your mouth. The heat is luxurious on this winter night, burgundy kisses exchanged between the sheets like secrets. His tongue slips between your teeth, tasting every inch of you and exploring you like the deepest texts. 

He pulls away slightly, and you’re drowning in his gaze. “Am I still just kinda-sorta handsome now?” he nips at your neck, sucking on a spot between your jaw. 

“N-no,” and you pull him up by the chin, taking in his messy hair and glazed eyes, “you’re fucking sexy,” and you tug your mouth to his once more. 

You don’t even realize that you’re rolling your hips until Jungkook breaks the kiss in favor of grabbing your hips, making sure your core is nestled perfectly between his hardening length. It doesn’t take long for the both of you to get wet, and the silk glides easily between your thighs like butter.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he encourages, one hand reaching up to cup your breast, “use me, make  yourself feel good.” 

“Please, don’t call me that,” you whine against his mouth, trying to keep the mood in, “Babe is fine, but baby girl makes me feel like a little kid and I’m not a little kid.”

“You damn right,” and he lifts his hips to meet yours in a sharp thrust, and you gasp hotly into his mouth. It’s too late to muffle your moans, not when you’re drenched with two pathetic pieces of fabric stopping the both of you. “You’re a gorgeous, intelligent, strong, amazing woman.” 

With every compliment, he does all the work, thrusting with each adjective like he’s blessing poetry into your body. 

“J-Jungkook,” the name is muffled against his shoulder, too fuzzed in ecstasy to be embarrassed by the drool coating his tank top. His hair tickles your shoulder as he nips at your clothed breasts, swirling around your nipple. “I-I, m’gonna come,” 

“You’re almost there huh?” and he slips a hand between you two to find that sweet spot, swirling designs between your shorts. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

And you’re shaking, collapsing into his embrace as he rides out your high. He cradles one hand in your hair as you rub furiously against his other, chasing your pleasure like a starved animal. 

“K-Kook,” you murmur into his neck, finding the strength to roll your hips one more time to check. “You’re still hard, do you want me to help?”

“No.” he’s forthright, and as tired as you are, you force yourself to pick your head up. Sweat lines his brow and his face is flushed, but he’s already helping you off and handing you a tissue from the nightstand. 

“What?” you’re hurt, and don’t want to admit why. 

“Don’t feel like you need to,” he grunts into your forehead, dipping a chaste kiss right in the center. “Just let me do something nice to you for once.” 

As much as you want to, you don’t complain as he tucks you in. You don’t complain when you see a wet stain on his Kirby boxer briefs. You don’t answer back when he checks his phone one more time and pulls you in to press a kiss to your cheek. It’s 12:31. 

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs into your skin, and turns over so his back faces you. 

Christmas is a loud and eager affair. The entirety of your family piles into your house while still in pajamas, aunts and uncles from other villas running in with their children with their newly opened toys and gadgets. There’s a buffet style breakfast piled on the kitchen island, and you’re all eating in the living room while watching holiday movies. 

Jungkook melds right in, unsurprisingly. He has your baby cousin Dante in his lap, teaching him how to use the controls of his new Nintendo Switch. 

Despite only meeting Jungkook a few days ago, you notice that some of your family have taken the liberty of giving him small presents. You spot a simple silver chain around his wrist, courtesy of Jimin, and a fluffy grey scarf wrapped around his neck, courtesy of your aunt’s impeccable knitting club. 

“He fits right in, doesn’t he?” 

Yoongi hands you your usual cup of tea, and you accept it gratefully. You’re sitting right next to the tree, and you notice that some of the ornaments are miniature books. You absentmindedly run your fingers over the carved wood, especially on the ones that are your favorite titles. 

“Yeah,” you hate to admit, so you whisper it into your mug. But Yoongi can hear, he always does. “I didn’t think it would be this easy.” 

“Easy to love him, or easy to fit into this family?” 

You splutter into your mug, and Yoongi does the right thing by patting your back. It feels a little bit like he’s burping a baby, but otherwise, it soothes your lungs. 

“I am happy for you, you know.” he says, knocking knees with you. “It might not seem like it now, but I truly am.” 

Deciding not to dwell on his subversive confession, you thank him for the tea and excuse yourself. Dante seems like he’s got the hang of MarioKart, so you tug Jungkook by the hand and lead him back into your bedroom. 

“I got you a present, but I didn’t feel like making a scene about it,” you pull out a pink gift bag, tufts of white tissue paper sticking out. “Also, it’s kinda cheap and it was a last minute thing, so don’t have any high expectations.” 

“Gee, you’re really making me feel deserving of this gift,” but he takes his time in unraveling the bag anyway. 

He pulls out a shiny onyx black mug, rolling it between his hands. On one side it’s engraved in gold cursive “World’s Best Boss” but on the other side it’s engraved, “World’s Best Husband”. 

“Subtle,” he grins, pulling you into a hug. He gets that it’s a gag gift, but because it’s from you, it's a lot more meaningful. You could’ve easily delved into his bank accounts and see what he buys for himself, but you decided to take the more personal route. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs into your hair. And to really throw you off he says, “For my gift, I’ve decided to publish your novel.” 

You shove him away as if you’ve been stung, and you barely have the voice to ask, “Are you serious, you’ve read my novel? I didn’t even send you the first draft!” 

“We share the same Google Drive, it was easy to find. If you had noticed, it’s the only thing I’ve been reading this week,” he shrugs as if it’s nothing, but he’s in actuality giving you your lifelong dream. “You deserve it, really. I’m sorry if you felt like it wasn’t ready to be read. But it was wonderful, you’re a real wordsmith.” 

“I’m not upset,” you can’t be, not when he smells so good and he’s trying to hug you all over again. “How many copies?”

“10,000.”

“20,000.”

“15,000, and I’ll even give you permission to dedicate your novel to me.” he raises his brows irreverently. 

You scoff at his arrogance, but you don’t admit to confessing that along with professors and your family, you would be dedicating it to him. “Well my gift feels like absolute shit,” you deadpan, “can I have a do-over tomorrow? We can go to the mall or something.”

“You’ve done enough for me,” he disagrees, breaking away from you to place the mug on your desk. “Agreeing to my farfetched proposal, letting me into your home. I think that’s an amazing gift.” 

“You’ve been way too nice,” you look at him wearily, noting the rosiness in his cheeks. 

“You say that like it’s not possible!” 

“Who knows? Maybe the Christmas spirit has performed a miracle, who am I to judge?” and you can’t get enough of the man, running into his heart one more time. Pressing your ear to his chest you sing, “Well, in the Poconos they say, that Jeon Jungkook’s heart grew three sizes that day.” 

It may have not grown three sizes, but if the living room wasn’t so loud, maybe you could’ve heard his heart beating three times as fast. 

The calm after the storm is your favorite part of Christmas. Most of your extended family has left to mull in their own homes, leaving your family to laze around until it’s just you and Jungkook that are awake. 

Jim Carrey’s version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas is playing on Netflix, arguably the only superior rendition of the children's book. The tree is still glowing by the fireplace, soft white lights trickling in the darkened room. 

Earlier in the night, you and Jungkook had cuddled up in the middle of the couch under a blanket, and were too lazy to move even when the entirety of your family vacated. Either of you could’ve easily shoved each other off and went to bed, but here you are, making offhand comments over hot cocoa. Each second that passes by, you’re more aware of how well you two sink between the fabric like you’re meant to do this. The domesticity terrifies you, but you don’t dare to point it out. 

“How does his face do that?” Jungkook turns to you, contorting his face into funny expressions. It’s a poor attempt at the green creature on the screen, but it makes your mouth twitch and you fight the urge to giggle. “It’s like he’s made of rubber.” 

“He has a sense of humor, unlike some people.” 

“Very funny,” he says, turning away to take a sip of his cooca. 

Sinking further into the couch, you unconsciously latch onto him more, savoring his body heat. “Can I confess something?”  

“What’s up?” 

“A week ago, I loathed you. I used to have recurring dreams about you getting run over by a Wonderbread truck. And I was driving the truck.” 

“Wow, that makes me feel so much better.” 

“No really, if I had the opportunity to watch you get hit by a cab, I would’ve paid for it.” 

“If it were possible for me to file for divorce at this very second, now would be time. You are a walking red flag.” 

“Okay, but!” you shush him with a finger to your lips, and he goes cross-eyed at the touch. “After seeing your stellar performance this week and an impeccable display of human emotion. I think after all of this, we could be friends.” 

“Fwends?” he says through your finger, mouth smushed. “Why whuh we?” 

Instead of lifting your finger right away, you swipe at his cherry lips, getting rid of the marshmallow sticking to the corners. 

“Because we get along.” you say simply.

“Because we’re supposed to be getting married.” 

“No! We’ve always gotten along! We’ve just been too up our asses to notice!” you sit up, appalled. “Here’s my theory, a change of setting has suddenly spurred on your character development—”

“—y’know I really don’t appreciate your use of literary jargon, it’s really pretentious—”

“—because without your external conflict, you have a chance to let loose and enjoy your life for once!” 

Jungkook frowns, adjusting his frame so he slightly hovers you. He’s pretty like this, dressed in fluffy black pajamas and his face soft. His eyes absorb the Christmas fairy lights, and you notice for the first time in two years that there are no longer purple bags under his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, voice so small you wonder if he’s worried to crush the moment. “Friends are hard.” 

You shake your head vehemently, “Friends are easy, keeping them is the hard part.”

He doesn’t know why he’s being so weird about this. You’ve worked for him for over two years, you know him as well as you know your skincare routine, down to the last detail. 

“Jeon, don’t think too hard about this,” you try to get him to lighten up, the intense look in his eyes throwing you in for a loop. It makes the little hamster wheel in your head spin rapidly, and you wonder if you’re really crossing a line. “Jimin said you had a really good time yesterday, I was almost jealous I couldn’t come shopping with you.” 

He cracks a smile at that, “Yeah, Jimin and I shared a moment,” and he leans down to the shell of your ear, “and he said he really enjoyed our moment last night.” 

“Oh my god!” you grab a nearby throw pillow, chucking the rough fabric in his face. 

He breaks into a laugh, but not the wine and dine chuckles that he’d have between terse negotiations for work. It’s a full out giggle, like he’s proud to have riled you up enough to break your resolve. Who knew your angry face could be so cute? 

“I guess if we’ve crossed a line, might as well make it all the way to the end,” Jungkook says easily, running a hand through his chocolate tresses. 

You and Jungkook are leaving the day after tomorrow. Most of your stuff is packed and ready to go, and you’re currently spending the rest of your night at a sit-down dinner with your immediate family plus Jimin. 

It’s peaceful, you muse. Jungkook even offered to help cook. Back at Big Hit not once did he ever bring leftovers from home, always insisting you order something for him during work. Kimchi fried rice is a simple dish, but Jungkook had taken great care in making sure it was cooked properly and adjusted to your family’s tastes. 

Your parents are glowing and enjoying their time with the whole family, a rarity that grows more valuable with age. The meal soothes you like a balm, reminding you of old conversations that had you spew milk out of your nose or Namjoon accidentally spilling beans on your lap. 

“Oh, you should also clear your schedule for the first week of September,” Jimin says absentmindedly, shoving another mouthful of fried rice. “Besides Easter, Jungkook says we can celebrate his birthday and visit for the weekend.” 

“Seriously,” Namjoon balks, sitting up straight as he regards you in disbelief. “You’re sure your Devil of a boss will enjoy you out of his chains for two vacations, god forbid you take the holidays off again.” 

The grip on your fork tightens, but you steel yourself. Honestly, you were wondering why it took Namjoon this long to let it all out. He was always vehemently against your job, as he was the person who got the brunt of your vents when you were stressed. Probably for the sake of Christmas he let it go, but now that it’s over, the topic’s fair game. 

“Oh, c’mon Joonie,” your mother frowns, “not at the table.” 

“He isn’t that bad, Joon.” you reason, completely ignoring Jungkook as you stare straight at your brother. “He means well��”

“Means well?” Namjoon barks a laugh, as if it’s the most laudable thing. “Sis, you cried everyday for a straight month after you were hired.” he places his hands on the table, regarding you carefully, “I had to personally call your doctor in New York to get you sleeping pills, and not to mention that two weeks ago, you were crying again because you were worried he forgot your vacation and would make you work! Don’t tell me he ‘means well’ when I’ve been busy picking up the pieces!” 

At this point, you’re livid. Jungkook’s right here, and while you can’t go ahead and out the fact that he is your boss, you can still have his back. 

They don’t know that you’ve picked the pieces back up, reinforced yourself to create a better version of the person you once were. 

“He does mean well,” you cry, matching your brother’s red tone to a T. “He’s just stressed and genuinely cares about the company. I choose to work long hours because he takes his time in making sure the work we publish is worthwhile, and I support that. He’s hard on me because he knows I have potential. He’s going to make sure I succeed.” 

Namjoon looks at you like you’ve grown two heads. “You’re seriously defending your shitty boss?” 

Jimin puts a hand over Namjoon’s in an attempt to placate him, but he shoves it away.

“Honestly,” Namjoon spits venom, “how can you possibly stand to be around someone who makes your life so miserable?” 

Your meal has gone cold, and your fists clutch desperately at your jeans. The breath is robbed from your lungs, and you can’t look at anyone for fear of them regarding you with guilt. You know since the day you got hired that your family wasn’t exactly enthused at your boss’ level of expectation and work output. But they don’t know the industry, and they don’t even really know Jungkook past the surface level. . 

But you know in their eyes, they’re right. Their daughter left their comfy home to pursue her lifelong dream, only for it to be broken in a matter of weeks. It’s natural to feel protective, and while you’re resilient and were able to get it together as of late, it wasn’t enough for them to understand. As someone who loves you, it’s obvious they’d want to blame your boss, blame Jungkook for your suffering. 

You imagine your father would ask Namjoon to step outside, or your parents would make Jimin pull you and Jungkook out. Neither of those things happen.

A warm, large hand is placed on top of yours. You look towards Jungkook, face unreadable as he squeezes your thigh. 

“Namjoon’s right.” Jungkook utters, pressing his lips together. “You deserve to be treated with respect. The boss has never appreciated the hard work you do, at least not out loud. You’re too good for him.”

“Jungkook,” you gape, putting your other hand over his. 

He pulls away at your touch, glancing at the clock. “This dinner was wonderful,” he says gently, looking apologetic to your parents. “Excuse me, but I promised to call my parents at this time.” 

The excuse is completely half-assed, but no one says anything as he leaves, walking out the door without a coat. The table is terse, with your parents attempting to coax out dessert while Jimin clears the dinner table. You refuse to look at Namjoon, who has no idea why you’re so upset. You wait five minutes before you mumble about getting Jungkook a jacket. 

However, when you open the door he isn’t sitting on the porch. He’s all the way up the street, too far for you to be heard with a yell, and walking farther into town. The black hoodie falls to your side, disappointed. 

Jungkook does in fact, call his parents. Your mother suggested it when she gave him the ring, thinking it would ease his homesickness if he made a better effort to communicate his feelings. 

And so he spends over an hour huddled in a cafe, talking about nothing and everything with his mom and dad. He tells them about the little novelties he’s experienced this week, like making popcorn strings and picking out themed Christmas ornaments. He tells him how he promises to book a flight back to Korea as soon as his work visa goes through. While he doesn’t mention the proposal, he mentions you. He prattles on and on about how strong and beautiful you are, and how you’ve crept up on him and made him realize how awful of a person he was. 

His mom prattles excitedly through the line, saying that women make you realize how much better you can be for them, but she doesn’t know the half of it. 

Jungkook sat there in your dining room, Namjoon boldly telling you off about how miserable he’s made you. 

And yet still, you defended him in ways he never imagined. Your relationship has always been mutual, and prickly at best. You balanced each other out, but he knows he doesn’t deserve you. When he first hired you, he rendered you indispensable like all the other assistants that couldn’t handle it. You’d break eventually. 

And you did break. But you picked up the pieces and put yourself back together, and you didn’t resent him for it. He hated that. How can you trust someone who’s hurt you so much? 

He can’t let you go through with this marriage. You’re wrong. You don’t need him to be successful. 

[11:09] You: mom unlocked the door for you. Jimin and i went out for drinks so idk when ill be back

[11:09] You: please don’t be mad at me

Silly girl, why would he ever be mad at you? 

His plan is simple, Sneak into your villa, grab his luggage, and try to book the earliest flight back to New York. Then, he can come clean to Taeyeon and spend the year in Korea while they work out his visa issues. He’ll quietly pack his things and clear out the office before Monday.  Hopefully by the time he makes it to Busan, he can forgive himself. He’s going to regret missing your expression when you get to hold the first physical copy of your novel. 

This plan proves difficult when he sees Namjoon waiting outside for him, sitting on his luggage and reading a book. His long legs are splayed across the porch, and he doesn’t spare Jungkook a glance.

“Knew something was off,” the older man doesn’t look up from his novel, “found the mug on her desk, bossman.” 

Muttering a curse under his breath Jungkook opens his arms, “Are you gonna beat me up now?” 

“What? No, I’m a lover, not a fighter.” Jungkook scoffs, and watches Namjoon roll his luggage to the back of the van. “And out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll save you the Lyft fare and drive you to the airport.” 

Is he that predictable? He flinches at the sudden jet of the ignition, and he takes heavy, snow-laden steps to the passenger seat. Once buckled in, Namjoon tosses the book in his lap. “Some light reading for the drive.” 

If Namjoon wasn’t the driver, he wouldn’t hesitate to chuck the book at his big, intelligent head. Instead, he glowers, clutching the book tightly. It’s only when they round the corner to a house brightly decorated with lights, does he see what novel Namjoon’s plucked. 

A Mutually-Assured Attachment. Jungkook tosses the book back and forth between his palms, noting the soft cover is so worn it could melt apart in his lap. It feels tended and loved from years of use. 

It’s Jungkook’s first novel, and you had a copy. One of the first editions, if he remembers the cover art correctly. Granted, he thought you had some of his books purely because of your job, but not one from your childhood. Frankly he thought this should have never been published, but he was nineteen and that in itself was a large feat. 

He carefully peels the pages, and takes out his phone to shine the flashlight mode. At the very front, blood red ink is scratched next to the title: “this is THE most pretentious title i’ve read in my life! Don’t disappoint me jeon!!” 

Your handwriting’s all over the place. He sees graphite, gel, and glitter pens mark the margins, as if you’ve come back each time to write something new. The annotations vary, from “this part sucks” to “shit, that’s good i should do that”. You draw little pictures of the objects he’s contrived, from the little brass locket one character cherishes to the facial expressions you imagine they hold. 

And at the very end, your handwriting sits neat and bold on the inside cover: I can do better than him. 

Jungkook chuckles to himself, turning off the light. You’re always right. 

Namjoon senses the younger one is done, and he clears his throat. “I really really don’t understand what she sees in you.” 

“I don’t understand either,” Jungkook agrees easily, his finger tracing your handwriting. He muses that you were always out to get him, even if you didn’t know it. 

Namjoon masks his surprise by clearing his throat. “But I’d rather seek to understand than live the rest of my life having my sister resent me. I don’t really know what you two are going through, but if she trusts you with her life, I’ll try. Emphasis on try.” 

“I don’t deserve your trust.” 

“You damn right you don’t,” succumbing to his impulses Namjoon makes a sharp turn, and Jungkook holds his stomach together before it flies out the window.  

You come home to find your room cold and barren. All of Jungkook’s things are gone, except your Christmas mug. 

You at least thought Jungkook would spare you a goodbye before he ditched you. You hoped you’d at least consider each other friends who provide explanations after all of this. 

Lifting the mug off the desk, you hear a little clink in the glass, the chime unfamiliar. Hurriedly, you pour out its contents. A heavy, tungsten black ring lands in your palm. You clench the metal between your fingers, hugging it to your chest. 

Mind made up, you dash out to the hallway, nearly bumping into your cousin. At the same time you and Jimin blurt, “We need to go to the airport.” 

Apparently Namjoon warned Jimin that something fishy’s going on. Namjoon didn’t know what, but he had the inkling that Jungkook was hiding something. Once Jimin received the text to meet them at the airport, he flung you in his sedan and floored it. Flushed with adrenaline, Jimin is speeding with a fervor you’ve never experienced. 

“Can you please, take the edge off and tell me what the hell is going on?” 

Just like how Jungkook didn’t want Big Hit to go down the drain, you didn’t want this week to be in vain. You can’t wait a year for Jungkook to come back, and you didn’t want to publish your first novel without him by your side. 

“Long version or short version?” 

“The in-the-middle version. I don’t think I have the brain capacity to absorb all your drama right now but I really need some answers.” 

“O-kay. Basically, Jungkook isn’t a Literary Agent. He’s my god-awful boss. Or was awful, I don’t know. Jungkook left the country before his work visa was fully processed. That’s a breach, so he needs to live in Korea for a year to come back. But he can’t run Big Hit remotely, so he proposed to marry me to attain citizenship.”

Your head whips to the dashboard and you cry out, barely stopping the impact with your hands.  

“Sorry, sorry!” Jimin’s eyes are focused on the red light, absolutely terrified. “Bitch, you’re committing fraud with your boss! You could go to jail, that’s like, the hottest love story ever!” 

“But he’s going back to Korea because now he suddenly realized he can forge basic human connection.” you mutter, “so no, we’re not going to jail because he’s decided to do the right thing.” 

“So what you’re saying is, Jungkook has achieved self-actualization and decided to peacefully move to Korea and sacrifice the company for you.” Jimin is carving his free hand in the air, gesturing wildly. “Don’t you see! He really likes you.”

“Yeah, so now we need to go to the airport and tell his dumbass this isn’t the time to be selfless.” 

Once you find a spot you’re rushing out of the car, weaving between carts and people to find the correct terminal. This airport is much smaller than JFK, so it’s easy for you to navigate and get past the TSA. It also helps that Jin’s wife is an attendant. 

“He chose the 1:45 flight in Terminal 31A,” Mijoo chirps from her tablet, leading you in the right direction. She’s dressed impeccably, the odds and ends of this airport glued together by her impeccable organization. She points to the clock, which glares a digital 1:18AM. “You have time.” 

“Thank you Mijoo,” you exhale gratefully, “and I’m so so sorry I skipped your wedding!” 

“This is the 300th time you’ve said it,” Mijoo rolls her eyes, pushing you and Jimin forward, “But I’ll make sure not to miss your wedding.” 

You’re sweating from your down jacket, and you can’t believe it’s really all come down to this. The one person you’ve spent the last two years of your life doting on, and you didn’t want to stop. You wanted him not just for the publication of your novel, but because you needed him. 

Jungkook’s sitting in the waiting area of Terminal 31A, looking wholly inconspicuous as he reads a book and has his hood propped up. 

Fists balled, you stride forward only to have Jimin tug you back. “What?” 

Jimin pulls off your thick coat, making haste to wipe the sweat off your brow with his sleeves and flatten your messy hair. “What?” he tilts his head to the side, “you need to look good before the big confrontation. I’m recording this for archival purposes. Do you have any lip balm by any chance? You look chapped.” 

You slap his hands away, but those grubby fingers just come back with a vengeance. “My life is just a big show to you, isn’t it?”

“Living vicariously all day, every day.” 

While Jimin parts your bangs, the intercom cuts through the air. 

“The 1:45 flight to John F. Kennedy International airport will now commence boarding. Please line up according to the ticket class.” 

Jimin smiles at you, squeezing your shoulders and gestures for you to go. To your horror, Jungkook is first in line. Panic bubbles to your throat.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you cry, voice echoing throughout the terminal. “If you so much breathe in the direction of that plane I will call Mark Lee right this second and tell him the book series is off!” 

Like a deer in the headlights, Jungkook heeds to your voice immediately. In his stupor you jog forward to snatch his wrist and pull him out of line. You don’t let go until you’re away from the long line, and Jungkook tugs his wrist away. 

“Don’t you dare call him,” Jungkook looks serious, as if you didn’t drive all the way to stop him from making the biggest mistake of his life. “I will never forgive you if you terminate Mark Lee’s contract.” 

“And I won’t forgive you if you get on that plane.” 

Pain flashes in his eyes, and he shakes his head. “I need to. I can’t let us—let you go through with this. You and your family deserve better.” 

“What? Jungkook, I agreed to this just as much as you did.” 

“No, you didn’t.” he’s adamant, and steps back with every step you take forward. “As your boss I threatened you, held it over your head like an ultimatum. I’ve hurt you,” his voice cracks, looking at you desperately, “why would you want to be stuck with me when I’ve made your life miserable?” 

“If I really wanted to leave, I would’ve done it a long time ago.” You reason, “Do you really want to leave the company behind? To fucking Karen?” 

“Of course I don’t!” Jungkook exclaims, “but it isn’t worth hurting you, hurting your family and everyone that loves you.” 

“And what about you? You’ll be hurt when you leave,” and you step forward, so close that your chests are touching. You take hold of his hands, clutching them between your small ones. “Don’t go, stay with me in New York. We’ll both work hard and try to not run each other to the ground. Let’s be better together.” 

You’re practically begging, biting your lip raw and hoping Jungkook understands how good this change is for the both of you. 

Jungkook is conflicted, looking back and forth between the airline boarding for JFK and your watery eyes. He hates seeing you like this. He can’t imagine you, the strongest woman he’s ever met, crying because of him. Namjoon’s voice echoes in his mind and he tries to smash it to the edge of his memory. But as always, you’re right. 

He replaces your grip with his own, and gets down on one knee. 

Jungkook says your name like it's the sweetest of songs. You’ve never seen him so terrified. “y/n, I didn’t do it right the first time, so let me try again. Please, marry me. Marry me because I want to date you. I want to take you out and give you what you deserve, what we deserve. I want to do better for myself, do better for you. I’ve realized you’re the only person that makes me feel like I’m simultaneously on fire and on thin ice,” he pulls out a velvet box from his pocket, revealing a thin band with interlocking black and clear diamond studs. It’s a pretty little thing, with a groove in the center so it stacks perfectly with your engagement ring. “This was supposed to be your Christmas present, but I chickened out at the last second,” he says sheepishly, tucking his head in. “But if you let me put this ring on your finger, I promise to be your home away from home.”  

With a sob you fall to your knees, throwing yourself onto Jungkook. A small “oof” escapes his lips, and he struggles to hold your waist so you both don’t topple over. “Yes, yes, yes!” you cry, pulling away to cup his face with both hands, pulling him into a sweet kiss. 

Jungkook’s smile takes up his entire face, and he eagerly pecks your lips one more time before ripping the ring from its holder and stacking it on top of your engagement ring. The teardrop diamond is nestled perfectly between the thinner band’s V. “Pretty,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“Wait,” you pull out the black ring that you found in your room, holding it to his face. “I’m assuming this is yours?” 

“Yeah,” he replies, “your mother said it was your great grandfather’s. It’s not an engagement ring, but it’s the thought that counts.” 

“It matches,” you hum, placing his simpler band in his ring finger. Once it’s on, you take a deep breath. “Shit, we’re really doing this?” 

Jungkook pulls you to stand, wiping the happy tears from your cheek. “We are, we’re a team, remember? We’ve crossed the line and we gotta finish it.” 

And he picks you up, the workouts definitely paying off as he spins you around like you’re the leads in La-La Land, drunk off the happy chemicals firing in your brain. Jimin whoops and hollers, along with all the other patrons in the vicinity of the airport terminal. 

Your real-fiancé puts you down, the both of you now hyperconscious of the stares people give you. Other people have filmed the proposal as well, completely smitten by your confessions. 

“Jungkook,” you giggle into his shoulder, “you were right. Our story is straight out of a Wattpad entry.” 

“Down to the super cheesy in-public airport proposal?” he chimes, pressing his forehead to yours. “Couldn’t have asked for a better love story.” 

“I can’t wait to fall in love with you,” you whisper, quiet enough for his ears only, “for real, this time.” 

“Not that it’s a challenge,” he teases softly, “but I’m already halfway there.” 

some months later.

“Like the new office, boss lady?” your new assistant (yes, you have an assistant!) asks kindly, his bubbly presence uplifting you immediately. He leads you to the window box, filled with tiny plants. “I figured you like succulents, because you have no time to water them and they’re prickly like you.” 

“Very funny, Seungkwan.” you chide good-naturedly, picking up a succulent with a yellow flower in the middle. “But thank you, your interior design skills are outmatched. I can’t wait to work with you.” 

“Me too, your social commentary you published on the literary industry? And you managed to lace it all up in an inconspicuous fantasy novel?” Seungkwan boasts, “I applied for this position right then and there.” 

“Thanks Seungkwan, why don’t you take your lunch and we’ll meet back at one to discuss our plans for next week.” 

“Sounds good, do you want me to pick you up something?” 

“I’m good, I’m meeting with the bossman.” 

Seungkwan gives you that look, his lips jutting out in a suggestive manner that almost makes you burst into giggles. Your assistant decides not to bother you until after you’ve eaten, and bids you goodbye. 

Just when you get a moment of peace, a handsome face pokes his way inside. “Hello editor,” Jungkook knocks on your door for the sake of attention, but you’re already dragging him into the office and shutting the door tight. “Like your new office?” 

“Love it,” you moan, gesturing to Seungkwan’s light filtering curtains. They’re not dark, rather a tasteful sea green, but they’re opaque enough to stop wandering eyes from peeking into your space. Your personal space was a qualm that immediately needed to be mended after your experience in Jungkook’s office. “A lot more private than your office.” 

“A little part of me hates how much you deserve this promotion,” he sits on your desk, and doesn’t hesitate to pull you between his legs, letting you lean into his chest, “but I do love the added privacy.” 

You fiddle with the buttons of his navy collar, his strong thighs trap you between him, “Why, miss me already?” 

He shrugs, “Taehyung doesn’t look as good as you do in a pencil skirt.” 

You laugh, brushing the strands of hair that fall from his coiff. “No one looks as good as I do in a pencil skirt.” A firm grip confirms that, two strong hands cupping your backside. “Mr. Jeon!” you gasp playfully, pushing him away slightly to pinch his cheeky grin. “Can we save this for later? I’m hungry, but we can always continue this for dessert.” 

He groans in your neck, “Love the sound of that, Mrs. Jeon.” 

bonus.

“FUUUCCCKKKKKK YEEAAHHHHH!” Park Jimin’s voice bounces off the walls of Taeyeon’s office, his face taking up the entire screen of his desktop as the camera shifts harshly between him and you and Jungkook at the airport. “My cousin’s not going to jail! WOO!” 

Taeyeon pauses the YouTube video at a particularly unflattering screencap: Jimin’s nostrils are flaring wildly and he looks fairly high mid-scream. 

A low whistle escapes Jungkook’s lips, “Wow. That video’s viral,” he looks to you appreciatively, “if Jimin kicks off his YouTube career, you think we can milk a memoir outta him?” 

“Potentially,” you reply nonchalantly, playing with your rings. 

“So,” Taeyeon’s voice is icy, slashing between your casual conversation, “you’re getting married, for real this time?” 

“Yep,” Jungkook pops. 

“Alright,” and from her desk she pulls out an ungodly stack of documents, one that mirrors your own back at the office. “Jungkook, you’ll stay with me. y/n, you’ll go to Vernon’s office and he’ll give you the same spiel. We’ll interview you privately with the same questions. A hair out of place and you’re in trouble. You sure you want to go through with this?” 

You and Jungkook exchange looks, betting your own company that you got this in the bag. 

“Hit us with your best shot.” 

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