#PLEASE zoom in and read it i spent way too much time putting together a timeline

[baelavelaryon]

The Vandree Silvergard Family Tree

An artifact stolen from the Vandree compound after the assassination of the Matron Sabrea, the lovingly embellished edition of the family tree now resides in the home of the Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate.

[free-pool-trash]

dancing with our hands tied - peter maximoff

here it is you guys... the ✨very spicy✨ sequel to delicate which can be read here <3 (had to keep the rep song title theme going here)

please for the love of god let me know how this is I’ve never written smut before so please go crazy with the asks/comments/reblogs on this one I’d really appreciate it😩😓

word count: 4k 😳 (it’s not all smut dont get too excited)

warnings: +18 content, sexy times, unprotected wrap it before you tap it, swearing, i tried to keep vulgarity on a low level but i decided to just commit towards the end lmao, insinuation to sex from the beginning , some fluff and a tiny bit of angst sprinkled in there too, wandavision spoilers

You can definitely read this as a stand alone but it’ll make more sense if you read delicate first !! enjoy <3

masterlist

The days you spent in WestView had been tiring. Wanda seemed to be losing her composure with each day that passed, you watched how she became more and more skeptical of Peter and found yourself growing all the more anxious with the situation you’d run head first into. But, you were with Peter, your mind and his mind were free of Wanda’s influence and she’d been kind enough to appoint the pair of you your own house in the neighbourhood, a few doors down from her own, so, you couldn’t complain too much.

Today was a relatively quiet day, but you had a feeling that just meant you were in the calm before the storm. Tonight was, apparently, Halloween. Despite the fact that it was nowhere near October, you were more than happy to play along with Wanda’s over the top festivities.

Peter and Tommy had just zoomed into your and Peter’s bedroom, sporting matching outfits and excited expressions as they looked at you expectantly, “Well? What’d ya think?” Peter asked, motioning between himself and Tommy. The littlest speedster awaited your answer with wide, hopeful eyes, wanting validation from his cool uncle’s even cooler ‘friend’.

Yeah, you’d made out on Wanda’s couch but you still hadn’t addressed the question of where exactly your relationship stood. It felt as though the pair of you were both actively avoiding the awkward conversation, opting instead to simply fall into bed together every single night and completely disregard the boundaries of friendship in favour of hearing each other moaning until the early hours of the morning.

With a smile you let out a low whistle, “Looking good boys. I gotta say, Tommy, I think you’re outshining your uncle right now.”

You had to laugh when Tommy smirked triumphantly at Peter, “I told you she liked me more than you.” He boasted proudly and your laughs grew louder when Peter huffed angrily. He crossed his arms over his chest and jutted his bottom lip out childishly.

“Y/n, tell him you like me more.” Peter demanded, again, childishly.

You only grinned, “No comment.” You told him airily, making your way to your closet and hesitantly pulling out the latex costume Wanda created for you off of the rail, holding it by the hanger skeptically.

It was Peter’s turn to let out a whistle when his eyes scanned the skimpy looking leotard suspended by the hanger. The fabric mimicked the design of Peter and Tommy’s outfits although it seemed Wanda had gone out of her way to make yours ever so slightly sexier. The leotard was strapless with a sweetheart neckline and a silver lightning bolt ran through the light blue material. The only saving grace was the silver tights that hung from the hanger as well, at least you’d have some kind coverage. With one last peek into the closet, your eyes landed on a pair of white, knee high gogo boots.

“Christ…” You muttered, eyebrows furrowing at the thought of wearing the ensemble out in public, if it was cold tonight Wanda would be in for an aggressive telling off. With a deep sigh you turned to the two speedsters who were both staring at you, waiting for you to say something. “I guess we’re all gonna be matching tonight.”

“Sweet!” Tommy exclaimed while Peter only smirked. Peter, with a lot of effort, moved his attention from your costume to his nephew.

“Why don’t you go hang out with your brother for a while? I gotta talk to Y/n for a sec.” Tommy welcomed the suggestion, only nodding his head before he had sped out of your house and back to his own.

A gust of wind hit your face as Peter sped himself in front of you, the man didn’t hide his intentions as he gripped your hips and pulled you flush against him. Swaying his body against yours and bringing his lips to the exposed skin of your neck. He trailed his lips up your neck, sucking and nipping, smirking when you let out small noises of approval. When his lips reached the spot behind your ear, he gave a final, harsh suck which had your breath hitching and whining when he pulled away.

To be honest, you’d love to be able to call him your boyfriend and be certain that he thought of you as his girlfriend, but at the moment you were perfectly happy with whatever the fuck the two of you had going on if it meant you could keep feeling him against you like this.

“I cannot wait to see you wearing that.” He all but groaned against your ear, his voice deep and gravelly. The butterflies in your stomach went feral at his words and you had to pull your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from letting out a moan from his tone of voice alone, not to mention the fact that his crotch was pressed up against yours, he was excited to say the least.

Your hands slid up his chest and settled on either side of Peter’s neck, you gently pulled his head out from the crook of your nape and teasingly raised an eyebrow at him, “Maybe later I’ll let you help me get out of it.”

A wicked grin spread across his lips, he squeezed your hips in response, tugging you into him even further for some kind of relief then pressed his lips to yours briefly, murmuring against them, “That’s definitely a plan I can get behind.”

Giving him one last kiss, you pried his hands from your hips and pushed him away, “Alright, get lost I need to get ready.”

“Meet me at Wanda’s?” You nodded at his question, letting out a deep sigh you hadn’t noticed you’d been holding when he finally sped out of the room.

After a second of cooling down, you pulled on the outfit and you’d be the first to admit; Wanda knew what she was doing with this one. You looked incredible, albeit a little stupid in the costume, but still incredible.

When you made your way over to Wanda’s to meet up with the others, you let out a laugh seeing as Wanda was essentially wearing the same outfit as you, only with the added extras of a cape and gloves.

“Hey! Why are you dressed the same as Uncle P and Tommy?” Billy asked you curiously, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he glanced between you and Peter for answers. The speedster in question was smirking proudly, his arm finding a spot wrapped around your shoulder.

“Because she’s totally obsessed with me.” He lied with an over dramatic sigh, causing Tommy to laugh.

You rolled your eyes, elbowing him in the ribs playfully before focusing your attention onto Wanda, “I think it’s safe to say that Wanda and I will be winning best couples costume.” Wanda gave you a knowing grin and a not at all subtle wink in response to your statement.

“Only the best for the best.” She replied, walking forward and linking her arm with yours, stealing you away from Peter who whined in protest, “Oh hush, you can have her back later.”

Telepathy definitely had its perks, one of those perks being you could tell there was more to Wanda than just being an evil puppeteer. The two of you got along extremely well, you were actually growing to see her as a friend. It helped that you knew her story, though. You sympathised with her, knowing full well that if you lost the love of your life you’d probably create a false reality to be with him too. You’d already followed him into a fake reality so you supposed it wasn’t really too much of a stretch to imagine yourself in Wanda’s position.

As the night went on, yourself, Wanda and Peter were sitting around in town square, the twins having run off somewhere. Tensions were high between the interreality siblings at the minute, Peter seemed to be having the time of his life getting on Wanda’s last nerve, poking and prodding at her lifestyle choices.

“Lay off, Pete.” You warned quietly, your stare serious as you felt Wanda becoming impatient with the mutant. Your breathing stopped for a moment and you let put a horrified gasp, your hand clapped over your mouth as you stared at the image in front of you.

Peter’s skin was grey, his eyes were milky and he was littered in what you could only assume to be bullet holes- he was dead- no, you realised as you caught Wanda’s pained expression, he was Pietro.

Wanda regained her composure after a few seconds but the sight of Peter dead was enough to shake you to your very core and you found yourself shaking where you stood.

You didn’t even have a chance to regain your composure before shit had hit the fan. It had happened in a blur, Billy and Tommy were frantic and worried about Vision being in trouble and next thing you knew Wanda was sending Peter flying with a ball of energy after he made a smartass comment about Vision not dying twice.

Quickly, you ran to Peter’s side, he was groaning in pain and looking up at you through squinted eyes, “What the hell was that all about?” He grumbled, hiding his head in your lap when you got down on your knees beside him.

With a sigh you let your body fold against his, wrapping your arms around him and letting your head rest against his shoulder, the image of him bleeding out still too fresh and real in your mind. You could berate him for his brash behaviour another time, for now though; you just needed him close.

“Come on, dumbass. Let’s get you home before you decide to cause more trouble.” You mumbled, pulling him up with you. Ignoring his whining while you led him home, your arm remained firmly around his waist the whole way despite the fact he’d recovered from the blast Wanda dealt him after only a few minutes.

When you got back to the house that Wanda had deemed yours upon your arrival, you finally allowed yourself to breathe. Peter was staring at you with a guilty expression as you released a heavy breath through your nose and shuffled into the kitchen, the heels of your boots scraping on the hardwood as you walked.

Like a lost puppy, Peter followed you. Once he reached you lent against the sink he wrapped his arms around you from behind. He knew you weren’t angry at him by the way your arms immediately moved to grip his and tug them tighter around you.

“You know, her real twin- Pietro… he died,” Peter’s face contorted in confusion when you began to speak, he listened with concern as he could already hear your voice beginning to shake, absentmindedly he caught himself tucking you closer against his chest. “For a second… you must have said something that hit a nerve but for a few seconds…” Your voice hitched and you shook your head in an attempt to knock the image out of your mind, though you had a feeling it would haunt you for as long as you lived. When Peter noticed you’d started chewing at your bottom lip, as you always did when something was causing you anxiety, he gently turned you around in his arms so that he could look at you, his arms remaining firmly around you, yours finding a place resting against his chest.

“What happened, sweetheart?” He cooed, his eyes very much alive and staring into yours.

Swallowing thickly you answered, “You looked like him. You were dead.” You told him quietly and he was sure the look of grief on your face, brought on by the thought of him dying, would haunt him for a lifetime.

Your eyes watered as you took in his face. Scanning every part of it, his brown eyes that made you melt, the dimples that could still be faintly seen even when he wasn’t smiling, the lips that took up the vast majority of your thoughts and that tiny furrow between his brows as he looked down at you with worry.

You loved him.

Of course, you’d known this for years. But you needed him to know, and even though you were already well aware the overwhelming feeling is mutual, you needed to hear him say it.

His thumb running under your eye pulled you from your thoughts, “I’m not going anywhere, baby.” He whispered softly, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb ran back and forth over your cheek bone. Your stomach flipped at the pet name and you nuzzled against his touch.

“Good. I don’t want to lose you ever again.” You confessed, looking up at him through your lashes fondly as his lips formed an almost sad smile.

Gently, he brought his lips down to meet yours, pouring his heart into the kiss, hoping it would make up for the turmoil he felt responsible for causing you. Too soon, he pulled away.

“Believe me, I’m never leaving your side. I mean come on, I’m without you for like three days and I end up being mind controlled by my sister who isn’t even my sister.” He chuckled out, a grin growing on his face as you began to smile too. He let his eyes close blissfully when you brushed your nose against his, a toothy smile on your face.

“You, Peter Maximoff, are completely hopeless.” You whispered through your smile as he opened his eyes to look at you. His own face sporting an adoring smile.

Your heart skipped a beat the second his next words passed through his smiling lips, “Without you, Y/n L/n, yes I am.” Within a second your arms were around his shoulders and your lips were moving frantically against his. Peter’s hands wasted no time in sliding down to your thighs, gripping them and propping you up onto the kitchen counter.

Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist and your hands got lost in his hair, keeping him as close as humanly possible while his lips migrated to your jaw.

An appreciative hum left your throat as he lapped at the underside of your jaw, leaving a mark before trailing his lips back to your mouth. His tongue licked at your bottom lip as he kissed you, moving it into your mouth the first chance he got. Peter moaned into your mouth when you gave his tongue a light suck.

You grinned at the sound and leaned your weight forward so you were primarily resting against his body, your arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body, your ass barely resting on the counter by that point. Welcoming your movements, Peter’s hands glided up from your thighs to grip your ass and pull you from the counter completely.

He carried you clumsily through the halls of the house, bumping into furniture and pausing to press your body against walls, his eyes closed and lips never separating from yours. You were about a foot away from the stairs when you felt your back make contact with the plaster behind you, your chest heaving when Peter abandoned your lips in favour of littering wet kisses across your chest, no doubt leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake.

You let your head fall back against the wall, enjoying the sensation of Peter nipping and licking at your skin, the man diving back to your neck as soon as he realised that your head thrown back made it entirely exposed to him. You released a breathy moan when his lips ghosted over a sensitive patch of skin, he moved his tongue frantically and you shuddered at the feeling of his hot breath hitting your bruised skin.

“Peter…” You whined when he pushed his crotch up against yours, pressing you further into the wall smirking against your neck when you called his name.

“Yes?” He asked teasingly, rutting his hips against yours once more, deliberately attempting to pull another moan from you, he obviously succeeded. His smirk broadened when you let out a huff and tugged his hair so he’d look at you.

Peter swore he was in heaven when his eyes met yours again, your face was red and your eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown wide with lust as your chest heaved. He could’ve exploded on the spot when you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth and looked at him innocently, all the while grinding your hips slowly and firmly against his. Peter clenched his jaw and let his eyes fall shut, his hands gripping your hips so tightly that you were pretty certain the area would have bruises come tomorrow. You were struggling to care about that though, focusing your energy on the man who had you pinned against the wall.

You brought your lips to Peter’s neck, repaying the favour, not detaching until you left a dark, albeit small, purple bruise on the underside of his jaw. Deciding to prolong the teasing for a little while longer you moved your lips up and let them hover by his ear and you began to let out soft little moans in response to his grinding, the action caused Peter’s movements to become more frantic and your lips to form in a smirk as you felt him hardening against you.

His breath was laboured when he murmured, “Let’s take this upstairs, yeah?” Before you could even answer he had sped the pair of you to the bedroom and you let your feet return to the floor.

As he stood in front of you, you took him in, swollen lips and Halloween hair completely tossed, not to mention the tent in his trousers that was very visible despite the layers of his costume. When your bodies collided again, it was a frenzy of hands, the both of you practically tearing the fabric off the other until you were in nothing but your underwear, kissing sloppily and stumbling towards the bed.

Peter’s lips attached to your chest again the second your back hit the mattress. He groped at your right breast while his tongue sucked on the other, swapping over before you pulled him back up to you.

The way he slotted between your legs and how his forehead rested on yours felt so perfect, you couldn’t help but grin.

“You’re gorgeous, sweetheart.” He muttered between kisses against your lips, his hands kneading your breasts as he did.

You were practically dripping by the time his hand slid down your stomach and under the band of your underwear. For someone with super speed he was moving agonisingly slow at the moment, his hand rubbing languidly over your wet core while he swallowed your moans.

“Fuck- God, Peter please.” You whined, your hips bucking into his hand, desperate for more friction than he was giving you.

The sound of your voice, so needy for him, was all he needed before he was pulling your underwear off, tossing the thin material over his shoulder haphazardly and shimmying out of his own boxers, clumsily kicking them away from his ankles, earning a giggle from you.

When he kneeled on the bed between your bent and separated knees you sat yourself up, sliding one hand up his bare chest and resting it against his shoulder while the other slid downward, only stopping once it was wrapped around his shaft. Peter sucked in a harsh breath when your began pumping him softly, the man completely losing it when your thumb swiped over his tip collecting the precum that had gathered and using it to wet the length of his dick as you continued to fuck him with your hand.

As much as Peter was loving the image and feeling of you jacking him off, he knew if you carried on he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. Still, he didn’t have the heart to pull your hand away when you were making him feel so good. His head found it’s favourite spot in the crook of your neck and he groaned out against the skin that was littered with little purple and red marks from his earlier work, which he’d be sure to admire later, “Shit, Y/n-“ He croaked through a moan, hands gripping your hips as he fought the urge he had to thrust into your hand, “M’not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that.” He groaned out, almost reluctantly, not truly wanting you to stop while simultaneously craving more.

You stopped your motions at his statement, giggling when he let out a strangled noise of disappointment at the sudden lack of pleasure. Doing the honours, you lined him up with your entrance, letting him take over when his lips connected with yours.

Peter gently pushed you back until your head was resting against your pillow and your back was flush with the mattress. His lips continued to mesh with yours as he pushed into you inch by inch until he bottomed out. The deep groan he released was music to your ears and your hands gripped his biceps when he began to thrust in and out.

A symphony of moans filled the room as Peter had managed to set a steady pace, trying his best not to let his mutation get the best of him, as much as he wanted to just go to town he was determined to make you feel as good as you made him feel and judging by the way your head was thrown back and his name fell from your lips like a prayer; he guessed he was doing an okay job.

In only a few minutes Peter had you gasping and clutching onto him like your life depended on it as he picked up speed, one of his hands reaching down between your bodies to rub your clit, his hips snapping against yours. Soon enough, you felt the pressure in your stomach release, your walls clenching around Peter’s dick as your back arched and you released around him. After only a few more staggered strokes, Peter moaned your name against your lips, finishing inside of you and thrusting lazily, riding out his high and subsequently helping you ride out yours.

You let out a blissful sigh when Peter pulled out and rolled over to lay on his back beside you, his chest heavy and his blonde hair sticking slightly against his forehead.

“That- that was awesome.” He mumbled, intertwining his fingers with yours, holding your hand by his side.

Over the last couple of nights you and Peter had, admittedly, ended up in a similar position but neither of you intended for it to happen. It’d usually start off innocently enough, with cuddling or just talking and then one of you would move in just that little bit closer and things would escalate. But there was something about this time that felt a lot more emotional than the few times before. “It was.” You agreed with an airy giggle, squeezing his hand affectionately.

A gust of air shook you from your haze. Peter had taken it upon himself to clean up the mess the pair of you had left between your legs, a pair of his boxers and one of his t-shirts now adorned your body matching him as he wore the same.

He was on his side facing you, his arms holding you against his chest securely the same way they had the night you’d shown up in WestView and urged him to kiss you. When he took you in, he kicked himself for missing out on so much of you for so long.

He was certain, one of these days he’d actually speak the three words that followed him around whenever he thought about you, but as he watched your eyes flutter closed, he decided the words would be best spoken some other time. He was well aware you already knew, just as he was well aware that you loved him, it needed to be said. Eventually, but not quite yet.

[yoongsisbae]

Caught! House of Cards - Chapter 2

WHOA I am amazed by all the love this story has received so far, chapter one has become my most liked post, huh?! I'm in shock, thank you! My thirst for muster Joon fueled this to be released earlier than anticipated, so enjoy! ;)

OT7 yandere!BTS x reader, Yoongi x reader & Taehyung x reader & Namjoon x reader focused this chapter

Warnings: 18+ dark themes, voyeur, masturbation A LOT of it, gaslighting & reader manipulation, shibari, intoxication, dubcon, choking, public nudity, sexual touching in public, dom!Namjoon & sub!reader

Word count: 5.3k

---

You press record and the red light on your webcam lights up. Your heartbeat races as you navigate the House of Cards website. You already have viewers and you’ve only just spent your time staring at the chat. You wish you had picked something sexier as you sit cross legged in an oversized shirt and sleep shorts. You wear a red eye mask to conceal your identity, part of an old superhero Halloween costume you pulled out from the depths of your closet. You felt like a dumbass. ‘Super Girl wouldn’t have to do this kind of shit.’

“Sorry, i-it’s my first time...m-maybe I could take suggestions?” You watch the chat move as you hold your breath. You wanted to sound sexy but you can’t stop stuttering out your words.

You’ve never been more anxious in your life, the ends of your fingers feel numb and you can hear your own pulse thumping in your ears. You’re openly inviting strangers to get off on your body, you’re about to expose yourself in ways you’ve never done before. This isn’t like sending a sexy photo to a boyfriend when you’re feeling needy, this is so much more reckless.

Just when you’re starting to regret doing this, just when you’re about to end the feed and hide in humiliation, a notification ding pulls you away from your thoughts.

Suga: take off your shirt

Your on-screen balance goes from zero to a hundred dollars. You gulp and your eyes go wide at the amount. A hundred dollars just to take your shirt off? That seems too good to be true.

‘Okay, this is what you signed up for, y/n. It's now or never!’ You mentally hype yourself up. You keep your mission in mind, make enough money to keep a roof over your head for this month.

Your shaky fingers find the hem of your shirt “F-for you-” you squint reading the username again, “For you, Suga.” You lift the shirt slowly off your body, exposing the curves of your breasts, revealing your red lace bra to your viewers.

The collar of your shirt gets stuck around your head. You feel like an idiot as you try to wrestle the shirt off your body without pulling off your mask.

---

Yoongi snorts at his screen, his lips curving up into a half smile. He sits behind two computer monitors. He watches as you stutter out apologies to your audience, entertained by your clumsiness.

He peers over his shoulder, to where his friends are playing a game of billiards. “Hey, we have a new one!”

“Oh yeah? It’s been awhile since someone joined.” Namjoon puts his pool stick down and walks over to Yoongi to get a closer look. He laughs, “What is she doing? Is this her first time?”

“It is,” Yoongi hums.

“Ah, well now I’m intrigued.” Namjoon pulls out his cell, quickly pulling up the website on his phone.

Yoongi licks his lips, “I think she’s cute.” He watches another hundred dollars add to your total as someone asks for you to remove your shorts. He notices the username and sends a glare to the man standing over his shoulder.

“What? Just trying to move the show along.” Namjoon gives Yoongi’s shoulder a shake. “You never did like sharing.”

“And you never knew how to properly take care of my toys.”

Namjoon laughs. He studies your figure and the way you move back and forth awkwardly on the bed. You’re trying to find the best pose for your request until you finally decide to lie on your back and lift up your hips, pulling your shorts down and off your legs so you’re in nothing but a bra and panties. He leans over Yoongi’s shoulder, eyes level with his monitor to get a better look at you. “She is very cute. I could have a lot of fun with her.”

Yoongi grunts. He watches you press the cups of your bra together to show your cleavage off for him. The chatroom viewer count jumps into 3 digits. You’re so eager to please your audience, he thinks, jumping at the chance to perform the simplest of requests. And he is eager to learn just how far he can push you.

Yoongi types a reply quickly and hits the donate button. He hears his friend let out a low whistle next to him.

---

A thousand dollars?! Someone just donated a thousand dollars. What the hell?

Suga: spread your legs for me. touch yourself.

Your breath hitches. You watch as another wave of viewers are added to the chat, another trickle of donations following. You feel high from their attention, and the money just keeps on rolling in! You've been so worried and stressed since lockdown happened and now you're almost guaranteed to accomplish your goal, finally something is going right, your heart jumps in excitement. It’s starting to feel...fun. You had discarded your embarrassment along with your clothes, thrown somewhere in a heap on the floor. You lean back on your palms and bring your knees together. You can feel the damp cloth of your underwear rub against your core. You’re ashamed to admit how turned on you are. The higher the viewer count goes the wetter you become. You slowly spread your legs to the camera, reveling in the game you're playing with your faceless admirers. Your eyes read over the chat, taking in all their praises of your body. Flattering compliments intermingled with salacious requests pass by the second, it’s overwhelming, and only serves to fuel your arousal.

---

Your sweet voice plays through Yoongi’s speakers, “Thank you Suga.”

“Oh fuck, she’s so wet.” Hoseok pulls up a chair next to Yoongi and Namjoon. They all stare at the screen, at the center of your light pink panties. There is a noticeable dark spot that propels the chatroom into a frenzy.

“Take a look at that view count, it’s one of our highest this month, right?” Namjoon asks Yoongi. He hums in acknowledgement. “They really have nothing better to do now that we’re all stuck in our homes,” Namjoon jeers.

The three men watch silently as your breathing escalates, taking note of how you shake and moan. Hoseok uses the camera on his phone to zoom in on your face scrunched up in pleasure and takes a snapshot.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at his friend. “I’m just showing Jin! She’s his type.” Namjoon laughs. Hoseok cocks his head to the side in confusion while Yoongi scoffs.

Of course you're Jin's type, Yoongi thinks. You're so beautiful and Jin loves to treasure beauty. Jin loves to admire his treasures, taking pleasure in finding the cracks within perfection to break them wider. He's going to have to watch out for Jin.

Yoongi’s and Hoseok’s phones ding with a notification. “Did you have to do that?” Yoongi questions Namjoon, starting to feel annoyed. He pasted a link to your stream to the group chat.

“They are probably already watching. Look,” he points to your view count, soaring into the thousands. The man on his side gives him a dirty look.

---

You place your hands inside your bra and panties, still not comfortable enough to bare it all just yet. You cup your breasts and roll your hips into your palm getting off on the friction. Your soaked panties pull on your hips, stretch against your knuckles, revealing parts of you every once in a while to the camera. How many men had their dicks out right now, how many were falling apart with you? The thought made you clenched down on nothing, covering your hand in your essence. You pull your hand away from your core and put your palm in front of the camera, showing off your wet fingers to your faceless admirers.

---

Taehyung groans. You wiggle your fingers to him, traces of your arousal drip in between, he imagines himself licking each digit clean. He imagines his own long fingers stuffing you instead, pulling sweet moans from your lips, you dripping all over him. Fuck he wants to taste you, he bets you taste so sweet, just divine.

His hands fists his hard erection, his tongue between his teeth as he watches you on his laptop. Each time you cry out in pleasure, he thrusts into his clenched fist, imagining your tight cunt wrapped around him instead. Taehyung almost loses it when you let out a needy whine, imagining all the ways he could make you cry and whimper at his hands. He wishes he had you here so he could taste and smell your body, god if you were here he would make you cum over and over again until you cry and beg him to stop.

---

Someone sends you five hundred dollars, the second largest donation of the night.

V: You’re so beautiful

No request, no lewdness, nothing other than the simple phrase that you didn’t realize how much you ached to hear. Your face goes hot. You let your hand speed up. You try to imagine the words spoken, whispered in your ear, focus on them besides the dings of your laptop and wet sounds coming from your soaking core.

You imagine a man on top of you whispering how beautiful he finds you. You throw your head back lost in pleasure, letting your fantasies overtake you until the heat inside you bursts. You gasp and shudder, forgetting about the camera on you, riding out your high for as long as you can. The fantasy man leaves your thoughts as you come back down to earth, alone again in your room. Finally, you open your eyes, staring at the ceiling of your room. The chatroom dings and dings.

Now that you’ve reached your high, the flames of your arousal abruptly extinguishes, an icy current of mortification at what you’ve done hits you in waves. You sit up shakily, wiping the sweat off your brow. Too scared to look at your reflection, you look down at your keyboard instead, trying to steady your breathing.

“Thank you for coming to my first broadcast. I’m going to log off now.”

Instead of shutting off the stream you hold down the power button of your laptop to turn your entire computer off. You lay back down as your phone vibrates with a notification. The total sum of what you made on your first live stream. You can’t believe it, laughing at the ridiculousness of it. You pull the mask off your face and throw the offending material across the room. As you steady your breathing you push down the regret that creeps over you, thoughts that ring in your ears like a lecture from your mother, feeling shame and disgust at what you allowed yourself to become. Whatever, you did what you had to do.

---

It’s an hour before you have to clock out on your last shift of the week. Your manager pulls you aside to speak with you. There’s concern in his voice and a frown etched on his face, “He is here again.”

“Oh,” you grimace, why is he so early?! “He’s, um, here to pick me up.”

Your manager’s eyes go wide. “You’re going to go somewhere with that psycho?”

“I-I can’t say.”

“If it’s money again I can see about getting you some more hours.” He grabs a clipboard off the back wall, flipping through the schedule.

You wince. “No, it’s just something I have to do and then this should all be over and done with. It will be fine.” Will it be fine? You hope so.

He gives you a skeptical look. “Are you sure? You’re sure you’re going to be okay?”

You don’t know, but you nod your head regardless, “Yes.”

“Okay,” He sighs, still looking worried, “I’ll see you Monday?”

You give him a reassuring smile. “See you Monday. Have a good weekend.”

---

An hour later you clock out and Yoongi makes his way next to you. You were grateful he didn’t make another scene, he had sat in the corner sipping on coffee, hardly paying attention to you. He didn’t have to, not when he had your store's camera system connected to his phone.

You look him over, Yoongi looks as posh as ever. He wears all black, and tight pants that show off his, well anyways, why does he have to look so good? You huff, staring anywhere else, motioning your arm, “After you.”

The man gives you a wicked smile and offers you his arm. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, but reach for his elbow. You felt silly in your dirty work clothes holding onto him. Why did you even bother waking up early today to put on a face full of makeup when you just ended up sweating it off?

"Your manager doesn't seem happy to see me," he teases.

"I wonder why..." you send him a glare.

Of course this motherfucker has a Rolls Royce. You grumble next to him. Yoongi opens the passenger’s door for you and you slide inside. When was the last time someone has done that for you? Tinder culture has really screwed you in more ways than one. You watch as he circles to the other side, he looks so powerful and sexy.

Stop, what's gotten into you?! You push down the butterflies fluttering around in the pit of your stomach. When he starts the car, he leans over to you, invading your space and making you flinch.

“Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you.” His eyes travel down your body, “Unless you want me to.” His face is too close to yours, you can feel his breath on your skin as he smirks down at you.

He reaches for the strap of your seat belt, his body now entirely pressed up against yours and he pulls on the strap and buckles it for you. Your face grows hot, it felt like he was teasing you, his presence leaving you as quickly as it came. You swallow down the lump in your throat, wishing you had water for your suddenly dry mouth.

He had smelled good. Manly. It’s been so damn long since you’ve been on a date, under the excuse of social distancing, but really you’ve just stopped trying to go out on boring typical dates with normal boring men so you can have boring vanilla sex. It was a hassle, you had gotten used to the instant gratification from your viewers. But now you had neither. That's why you were so wound up, not because you wanted this smug asshole, no way.

As he reversed, you realize you have to give him your address. You bite your lower lip, thinking what to do. Maybe you can get him to drop you off somewhere close by, but Yoongi is already setting up the GPS with another location.

“Umm, I thought we were going to stop by my house first.”

“Why?”

“So I can change?”

“Not necessary, you can change on the boat. I have clothes for you since I noticed you never cashed my check.” His piercing eyes flash with anger, the accusation making you shift uncomfortably. Cashing Yoongi's check made what was happening feel like a transaction, and you weren't willing to give him that power over you.

“I-I did not agree to get on a boat with you,” you frown, red flags popping up in your head at the thought of being alone in the middle of nowhere, out at sea, with a stranger who says he’ll hurt you if you ask him to.

“You agreed to go to a party with me. That’s how we get to the party, sweetheart.”

Dammit.

---

When Yoongi said boat you didn’t realize he meant yacht. It’s huge. He leads you into the main cabin, there are clothes already laid out for you on the bed.

He shows you how to work the shower before leaving you alone. You know you were washing off the sweat and grime of the day to make yourself presentable for this party of his, but why did you feel like you were cleaning yourself up for Yoongi specifically. It made you feel uneasy. You tried to silence the alarm bells ringing in your head and focus on getting ready. It's just one night out and then you can say goodbye to Yoongi forever.

The dress was black and tight. It hugged your curves and showed off your cleavage. You can admit it was a hot dress and you felt hot in it. It’s exactly the style you like, as if Yoongi had pulled it right out from one of your favorite Pinterest boards. You sigh as you look at yourself in the mirror, the dress came with a set of lingerie that you almost didn’t put on, embarrassed by wearing underwear picked out by a man you knew nothing about. This wasn't like the times you let your viewers choose your outfits for broadcast, this was different...right?

You decide to go all out with makeup, realizing there is no doubt going to be many beautiful people at this party that look as attractive and expensive as Yoongi, so you might as well try to blend in. You put on the finishing touches, a dark red lip, when there’s a knock on the door.

Yoongi walks in, he’s changed too. He's wearing a black button down and black pants, it matches your outfit. Almost all of his fingers are adorned with silver rings. His hair styled in an unkept bedhead way that makes him look younger. You try not to stare or think about how ridiculously handsome he looks.

You look breathtaking, Yoongi thinks, ‘Only one thing missing.’ He pulls out a black choker with a gold pendant from his pocket. “For you, I think it completes the look.” He gives you a genuine smile.

“I-I...Thank you.” you don’t know what else to say. His fingertips graze your collarbones, lighting a trail of fire across your chest. Yoongi clasps the choker around your neck, the pull against your sensitive skin gives you goosebumps. His pointer finger finds its way under your jaw to lift your chin up. “Ready for some fun?” You leave with Yoongi before you have time to inspect his present, notice that on the gold heart pendant there are initials delicately scrawled in the middle. ‘MYG’

---

You enter the party mesmerized. An island. A mansion. A secret paradise. A place where the party never needed to end.

The hall is decorated from top to bottom in gold and crystal, intricate glass centerpieces and art at every corner, but what caught your eye and made your heart drop into the pit of your stomach was an entirely different kind of centerpiece. Around the main room, suspended from the ceiling, gold ropes dropped in a dozen different areas. The most beautiful women you’ve ever seen hung under spotlights, the rope tied in intricate patterns around their naked bodies, each placed in a different position. Saliva pooled inside your mouth as you watched in awe.

Party goers gravitated to them, watching the women as they ate finger food and drank. Yoongi’s breath tickled the back of your neck as he whispered in your ear. “You look like you want to join them,” His dark eyes narrowed on you.

“I’m just admiring the view,” you try to act unaffected by his words, “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m hungry,” you whine, changing the subject, you let Yoongi pull you through the crowd.

---

Jungkook grips his wine glass so tight the stem breaks in half, the glass pieces cutting the palm of his hand. He is so full of rage he barely feels the sting, letting the blood drip on his expensive suit. That conniving little man Yoongi has his hands all over your body. How did he have you? Had this been his plan all along? Did Yoongi convince you to leave the site so he could have you all to himself? And you fell into his trap! Jungkook knows it’s not your fault for being manipulated, he knows how devious his business partner can be, but he wants to punish you just the same. He has to tell someone. Taehyung will know what to do! He searches for his friend, before he goes straight to Yoongi and kills him instead.

---

“Min, please introduce us to your date!” The crowd parts as two men advance towards Yoongi. You were just getting used to Yoongi’s cold reserved demeanor when his friends’ beaming playful attitude catch you off guard. The pair is full of energy, they commanded attention, and you could tell by their looks they most certainly were used to being in the center of it.

“You know who she is,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, his hand around your waist pulling you closer to him. What did he mean? Were they-

“But we haven’t formally met! I’m Hoseok, you can call me Hobi.” He winks at you and gives you a bright smile. “This is Jimin!”

‘Jimin.’ That name is familiar to you. No way, this beautiful man is not your Jimin. Not one of your top donators Jimin. No way in hell-

“I’m so happy to have finally met you in person, Dahlia.” Jimin holds your hand in his and brings your fingers to his lips, giving you a small wink. Oh my god he’s attractive. This is the same man who paid you for late night private chats, crying about how lonely he was, he is that Jimin. You’re so astonished you don’t even register the way Yoongi’s fingers dig into your hip in jealousy.

Hoseok and Jimin are fun. The three of you drink another round of sparkling champagne as the duo takes turns telling you wild stories, making you dissolve into a fit of giggles. Yoongi sips on his whisky while he watches the three of you roar with laughter. He doesn’t mind, he uses their charm to his advantage. As expected around the extroverted pair you start feeling more comfortable, you let your guard down around Yoongi, so Yoongi doesn’t mind. You're his date after all, you’re his.

“Looks like everyone made it!” Jimin waves at a trio of men headed towards your group.

“Almost everyone,” Yoongi corrects. He drapes his arm over your shoulder and you lean into him, your body swaying from the alcohol in your system. Yoongi delights in the way the men looked at you in his arms, the visible shock and anger on their faces. “Y/n, this is Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jungkook.”

You nod in their direction, barely regarding them, instead giggling at Jimin who is making a funny face at you trying to steal your attention.

“Namjoon says he’s sorry he couldn’t make it, something came up.” Taehyung addresses Yoongi.

Yoongi frowns at the information, it’s not like Joon to change plans so suddenly.

“I need to use the restroom, excuse me.”

“I’ll show you where it is,” Yoongi begins to take you, but Taehyung’s hand grips Yoongi’s shoulder, pulling him back. “Let the lady go, it’s been so long since we’ve all seen you, Yoongi. I missed my friend. You can make your way, right baby?”

Six heads turn to look at you and you feel hot under their intense stares. “Um, yea-yes, I’ll be right back.” You leave before Yoongi can protest.

---

This place is huge. You can’t remember how you found the bathroom or how to get back to Yoongi, and the room felt like it was spinning. The party had become louder, more obnoxious as drugs and alcohol loosened everyone’s inhibitions.

You shouldn’t have drank so much, you didn’t realize how much alcohol Jimin and Hobi had been feeding you until it was too late, and now you could barely make out people’s faces. What are you going to do? Yoongi had your cell in his pocket, why did you give it to him? Jimin had grabbed it out of your hand to put his contact information in, and handed it back to Yoongi instead. You didn't even protest, you were too busy being mesmerized by Hoseok as he swayed his hips to the music playing, rolling his body to the beat.

You lean against an empty space of wall, between two couples obnoxiously making out. You’re all alone in a strange house with no way to call for help, the gravity of your situation hits you all at once and your head begins to throb.

Maybe if you can make it to the second floor you can spot Yoongi and the others in the crowd. You stumble your way to the stairs, hoping your plan works.

You see Yoongi. The bastard is still drinking his whisky while his friend’s banter amongst themselves. You exhale, finally calming down. The fresh air away from everyone helps to take away your dizziness. You watch the six men, they are all so good looking. They have to be the most attractive men at the party. You didn’t notice how intimidating the group looks, finding it funny how party goers instinctively keep their distance from them.

The three new men are tall and big, they could be models, or maybe athletes, you should have paid attention when Yoongi was introducing you to them. What were their names, Junhyung? Taejung? If Yoongi was a House member, and Jimin was a House member, could they all be...no.

You’re about to turn to leave when hands cover your mouth and grab at your waist. Your scream is completely muffled out behind the stranger’s large hand.

He holds you in a suffocating embrace, covering both your mouth and nose, you realize you really cannot breathe. You try to pry his hand off your face but it’s impossible, he’s too strong and too big, easily overpowering you. The air in your lungs is trapped inside of you as you try to scream. Is this how you die?

“Hey baby.”

‘RM.’ The last time you met him, you had your vision taken, so you could never forget the unmistakable deep rumble of his voice.

Your mind is reeling. You stop fighting against his hold and he finally removes his hand, placing it around your neck instead. You gasp and cough out, inhaling air quickly, afraid your breath will be taken away again.

You guess it made sense, first Jimin now RM, were all the party goers members too? The thought terrified you. You had no idea what your viewers looked like, yet they all knew what you looked like naked. Just how many knew who you were? It made you queasy, you shudder against RM. RM, a top donator, plastered against your back, it felt like a fever dream.

You remember all the times you flirted with him behind the protection of your computer screen, now there were no digital barriers to stop his advances. No house rules to lessen his stifling touches.

“I missed you, baby. I’m a little upset you stayed away for so long, but seeing you here dressed up so pretty, like a present I get to unwrap, I can forgive you.” The hand that held your waist down against him traveled up your stomach, between your breasts, until it settled around your neck as well. “I’m so so glad you came back to us.” His deep velvet voice rumbled in your ear, making your legs tremble.

His strong fingers begin to massage your neck. It feels so good, you bite back a moan. Namjoon rubs deep circles into your shoulder blades. You can’t help but melt into his relaxing massage, your nerves had been wound so tightly before, his expert fingers finding each knotted muscle in your back. You try to sneak a glance behind you, but every time you try, Namjoon’s hands find your jaw, keeping your attention forward.

“How is Yoongi treating you?” RM knows Yoongi? You felt so out of the loop, you tried to make sense of it all but you could only concentrate on the way his fingers pressed against your skin.

“He’s being a perfect gentleman.”

“A 'gentleman,'” Namjoon laughs, “Are we talking about the same man?” You roll your head as his fingers work the tense muscles of your neck. His thumb runs underneath your choker, ever so slightly tightening the fabric around your skin. “He was planning to keep you all to himself,” Namjoon tuts.

Anger erupts inside of him as he notices the piece of jewelry, and he pulls you into another crushing embrace, his hands underneath the curves of your breasts. “Now what would he do if he saw you in my arms, hmm?” He makes you walk back to the balcony, hands groping your chest and body pressing you forward into the banister. Truthfully, you’re scared of what Yoongi would do if he saw you, you had no idea what he was capable of, but the pleasure RM was giving you was hard to fight against.

“RM, please...” you don’t know what you’re begging him for, to let you go, to touch you more.

“Look at him.” His voice deepens, his authoritative tone makes you whimper in his arms.

His arms travel to your waist, his fingers pulling at the hem of your dress, lifting it tortuously slow. His fingertips ghost over your lace panties. “Look at how wet you are, dirty girl.” He pulls them down your thighs. If anyone were to look up, they’d see you completely bare. The thought makes you pulse.

Taehyung and Jungkook had come to Namjoon to tell him what Yoongi had done. Namjoon almost felt bad, Yoongi was like a brother to him, so Namjoon knew how much he cared about you. But why would he parade you around in front of the others, like a sweet treat on a platter? Yoongi surely knew them all well enough to know they'd want to take a bite.

“Now keep your eyes on Yoongi, what is he doing right now?”

You start to speak and Namjoon pushes two fingers inside you, all the way in to his knuckles. You let out a gasp, and he pinches the sensitive skin of breast through your dress. “Answer daddy, baby girl.”

You fight back tears, your mouth goes dry as you try to hold yourself together. “H-he’s talking to Hobi.” Namjoon inserts another finger into you at the nickname you use for his friend, the stretch is bordering on painful, making you cry out. You try to stifle your whimpers, it just turns Namjoon on even more. He grinds his erection into your ass. His smell, his dirty words, his roughness, you've forgotten how much you craved it.

“Hobi, is it? When did you and him become so friendly? Baby, you’re making me jealous. Is that what you want?” With three fingers inside you, he sets a punishing pace. It’s been awhile since you’ve felt so full. Perhaps the last time you truly felt like this was by RM himself. You pulse around his fingers at the memory. Your legs shake as his thumb finds your clit, pressing into your sensitive hood. “P-please…”

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum, Daddy.”

He groans in your ear. “Hmm no.” He pulls his fingers out of you, you hold onto the banister as your orgasm escapes you. Your body shakes with need.

“You’ll come find me later tonight, won’t you, baby girl?” His warmth leaves your body, when you turn around no one is there.

---

Oh my so many questions, not many answers. Will you see your manager on Monday? Lol thank you again for enjoying my story, let me know what you think! <3

[1kook]

ZOOM CALL

⇢ meeting two

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

⇢ series masterlist

summary: Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: ITS A SLOW BURN OKAY...., sweetheart jk, campus crush jk, college crushes, social distancing, zoom -_-, jk owns a keroppi plush, oc thirsts over his hot bod, jk’s sweet attempts at flirting </3 he’s just 2 cute for his own good ratings: e for everyone <3 wc: 3.7k

notes: this took long bc i wrote one version but it was SO LAME u guys r lucky my friend and editor ( @kigurumu​ 🖤 ) stopped me from posting it. so then i had to reorganize my thoughts n b like girl. the ppl are waiting. get it together. anyway here’s zoom jk 😎

Being grouped with Jeon Jungkook (he/him) for your first class on the first day of your first Zoom semester truly sets the standard.

By no means do your other classes suck; they’re quite enjoyable, more relevant to your area of study. They’re familiar which makes them comfortable, your Zoom meetings filled with faces you’ve seen time and time again the last four years. The material interests you, so you definitely don’t have anything against them or your classmates. 

That being said, no one is prepared for the awkwardness that comes with each and every Zoom meeting. You never thought you’d be embarrassed to turn your mic on— to speak in a class filled with your peers. And the meetings are all like that, filled with uncomfortable silences and endless black screens. 

You wish there was a Jeon Jungkook (he/him) in every class. 

Jungkook’s just got this bubbly aura to him, this magnetic presence that staples itself into the back of your mind with each passing day. No one fills a Zoom call like he does, making every person laugh and smile like him. 

Wednesday rolls around and you find yourself a little disheartened when you don’t get sorted into the same randomized group as him again. Disappointment melts into annoyance when you find out how incompetent your other classmates are, refusing to speak in the small group or just completely clocking out all together. A lot of them didn’t do the reading— the one you stayed up all night doing —and your first partnered assignment of the semester finds you doing it all by yourself. Muted mics, black windows, complete radio silence; you hated it all. 

You find yourself weirdly longing for Jeon Jungkook’s presence, even if he’s only there to talk about some movie he saw last night. No one is as much of a chatterbox as him, can’t even hold a candle to the way he draws everyone in with his mindless conversations. At least he speaks during Breakout Rooms, you think bitterly. 

Anyway, the first week of classes ends and your brain is a frenzied mess. There’s schedules to memorize, professors to impress, assignments to plan out. There’s definitely no time to sit around and fantasize about the curly haired cutie in one of your general classes. The weekend is spent trying to organize your planner, filling in due dates and exam days ahead of time. It’s your last semester and you’re dead set on making it your best one yet. There’s a lot of written work this time around, analyses and research papers that need to be organized. The road ahead is manageable, but you’ll have to work hard to keep it that way for the next five months. 

Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group.

Jungkook is early this time, not like on Monday where he’d been one of the last to filter in, and he’s looking as chirpy as ever. Donning this horrendously hot pink shirt, completely unlike the neutral tones he’d worn during your last two meetings and that decorate his room, and the cutest pair of circle glasses sitting on his nose. He says his regularly scheduled ‘good morning’ to you all and receives a collective response from the rest of the class that not even your professor got. 

Speaking of the professor, you’ve been giving him the stink eye this whole time. Not that he can tell, given the fact he’s probably miles away in his own home while you angrily glare at him through your webcam. It’s this old guy who’s decided to sort you all into semester long groups for the class, which is the absolute worst. These types of groups always go the same way: you make a group chat promising to study together, those plans fall through, and then everyone just leeches off of each other for homework answers. And in most cases, it’s you handing over your homework answers because no one else ever bothers to do anything. Sadly, it’s a routine you’ve had to suffer through many times in your academic career. 

The thought makes you sick. Having to spend another semester being labeled as the bossy, nerdy dictator of the group? Not exactly how you wanted to spend the last few months of college, but there’s nothing you can do. Maybe this time around you’ll just let it be, won’t fight it (and by it, you mean your lazy classmates when they inevitably try to guilt trip you for homework) and simply let it run its course. 

“I’m going to put you guys into Breakout Rooms with your new groups!” your professor claps excitedly, and then you and the rest of your classmates are forced to watch him lean too close to the camera as he begins clicking around to find the preset groups he’s assigned the class. “Remember, guys, this is it for the rest of the semester. So if something isn’t right, let me know by the end of today.” 

Man, this was going to suck, you groan. The syllabus had said that the purpose of these groups was to keep you all connected with your classmates during these trying times, to give you the same opportunities in-person learning would. Frankly, you’re not too worried about making friends with everyone in this large class. Most of them are younger than you anyway, save for Jeon Jungkook (he/him) and a handful of others who are apparently in your year. Befriending lowerclassmen only to have to bid them adieu in a few months seems awfully sad, a little too heartbreaking. You really just want to get a good grade in this class, collect the last of your credits, and put this whole college experience behind you. 

Your thoughts are wrapped up by the pop-up message that appears on screen. 

The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 12

You sigh, contemplate dropping this class for all of two seconds, before dutifully accepting the request. Worse comes to worst, you make up some lie to tell your professor that you’re allergic to group work and hope it works. (It won’t.) 

You sit through the mandatory loading screen for a few seconds before being abruptly dumped into your new room, Group 12, or so the message had said. There’s no one else here yet, which isn’t really a surprise. A lot of your classmates are probably like you, scowling at the pop up message every time your professor sends you into small groups before accepting the request. So you chill by yourself, eyes tracing over your own mirrored image. The notes on last night’s reading are neatly laid out before you, your copy of the book off to the side. 

Another beat and then, much to your surprise, Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is appearing in your room. “Oh,” he says, round eyes magnified by the thick lens of his glasses, the glare of the computer’s glow casting a funny shape across the lens that momentarily robs you of his pretty eyes. His pretty pink lips stretch into a smile, upper lip thinning out a bit when he flashes you those perfect teeth. “Hi, __,” he greets politely, bubbly. 

It’s embarrassing how much his presence affects you, your back going ramrod straight in a terrible attempt to compose yourself. “Hi, Jungkook,” you manage to get out, fingers nervously reaching for something, anything, to ground yourself. They land on a pencil. 

Jungkook doesn’t seem even the slightest bit aware of the commotion he causes within you. “I was really nervous for these groups,” he begins rambling right away, lips pushing down into an exaggerated frown as he shivers at the memory. “But I’m glad I got placed with someone hardworking like you!”

Despite how sweet he sounds, you’re not entirely sure if he’s buttering you up just to take advantage of your ‘hardworking’ attitude later down the road or if he’s genuinely being polite. The little information you know about Jungkook wants you to believe it is the latter; he’s very kind, sweet and nice in a way that makes everyone he speaks to feel warm. Still, for all you know this could be some elaborate ruse of his to make you trust him now and then convince you to do all the work for the rest of the semester. 

Tentatively, you ask, “and how would you know that?” You try your best to keep your usual snappiness out of your voice, pose it simply out of curiosity. But everything you say or do feels like a stark contrast to Jungkook and his bubbliness. 

His head tilts cutely to the side, imploring brown eyes looking at you for one hard second. And then, “I read your forum analysis from Wednesday,” he admits, breaking into a smile. Shy and tiny, bashfully looking down at his desk. “I thought your perspective on the piece was really interesting,” he says, lips pursing together as if he’s suddenly too embarrassed to admit such things to you. 

Stunned, all you can manage is one slow nod. “Thank you,” you eventually choke out, trying to ward the heat away from your cheeks as Jungkook sheepishly nods back, cute smile still on his face. 

“Oh, please,” he chuckles, raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Don’t thank me!” 

It is in this exact moment that you are suddenly made aware of two things. 

One: despite his collection of soft sweaters and t-shirts, his bouncy curls and sweet smile, Jeon Jungkook’s body is neither as cute nor as soft as any of his belongings. In fact, Jeon Jungkook’s body is all hard planes and prominent veins. Arms beefy, biceps that bulge beneath the fabric of the short sleeve t-shirt he’s donned today. His shoulders fill out the material nicely, making him look broad and huge, but that’s not even the worst part, because—

—two: Jeon Jungkook is covered in ink. Dark streaks and swirls paint his forearms, curling around his elbow. Every inch of his pale skin is littered with tiny designs. They dance along the back of his hands, over his knuckles, and end at an unidentifiable point beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. When he tugs at the neckline of his shirt in an effort to readjust it, you hope your eyes are deceiving you and that isn’t a hint of ink by his collarbone. 

Your normal composure seems to slip away at the mere thought. 

It’s Jungkook’s voice that brings you back, a soft timbre that asks, “aren’t we supposed to have someone else in our group?” You flinch as if you’ve been caught ogling him, never mind the fact he’s started mindlessly shuffling some papers around on his desk, not the slightest bit concerned with you. 

“Oh— um, yes. I think,” you stammer, feeling like some creep for ogling your very cute, very sweet classmate. The memory of his inky skin nearly sends a shiver down your spine as you navigate back to the class syllabus. “We’re supposed to have at least three people,” you read off, glancing at the boy on your screen who frowns at the news. 

“Do you think they dropped?” Given it was still only the first week of school, probably. There had been a fewer number of people in the call when it started, you remembered. Jungkook sighs, this rather light sound that ends in a hum. “Well, we can always wait a few minutes just in case.”

So you wait, nervously bouncing your leg up and down. It’s not awkward, or at least, not as awkward as it would be with anyone else. The other week you had silently sat with another classmate in a one-on-one discussion and hadn’t uttered a word for five minutes. It wasn’t because you didn’t care about the class, but because said classmate had been tapping away on their phone the entire time and hadn’t even responded to your simple greeting. That was awkward. 

With Jungkook it’s more weird than awkward. You can tell the silence makes him uncomfortable because he keeps doing these tiny inhales like he’s about to speak, followed by a little head shake where he seemingly stops himself from saying anything at all. He wants to talk, very badly it seems, but holds back for some odd reason. 

He’s scribbling on some sheet of paper, leaning forward to give you a view of the top of his head. From this angle, his shirt hangs forward and a silver necklace falls out from beneath the neckline, thuds against the table. And then your suspicions are nearly confirmed, and oh god, is that a chest piece—

You quickly look away. 

Robbed of his handsome face and feeling like you’ll die if you look at his body any longer, you settle for your newly acquired favorite pastime: inspecting your classmates’ rooms over Zoom. Yes, you’ll admit it is incredibly nosy, but what else can you do? You can only look at your professor for so long until you inevitably grow bored, attention drifting off to your classmates tiny windows. And with no professor in sight, just gorgeous Jeon Jungkook, you quickly begin your examination of his bedroom. 

Jungkook’s room is pretty much the same as you remember it, rather neat and plain. There’s not a lot going on in terms of decoration, which is a little surprising to say the least. Over the course of the week, you’ve watched your classmates’ dormitories and bedrooms gradually change, decorations and tapestries decorating the walls, mountains of pillows added to their beds. It’s only natural that everyone has an innate need to show off who they are now more than ever, and you thought Jungkook would be the same. 

Apparently not. 

Aside from the guitar you had spotted on Monday, his little dorm room remains unchanged. Blank walls, grayscale sheets. The same perfectly fluffed pillows and then—

A tiny Keroppi plush smack dab in the middle of his bed. 

It’s adorable but a little out of place amongst Jungkook’s rather masculine decorations (or lack thereof). A tiny green doll sitting by his pillows, cute striped shirt and ridiculously dopey smile. 

Leaning forward, you unmute yourself and conversationally say, “I love your Keroppi.” 

At the sudden sound of your voice, Jungkook abruptly straightens up, glasses practically at the very tip of his nose. Eyes wide, it takes him a second to process your words before jerkily whipping around to stare at the aforementioned item. “Oh,” he jumps, slowly looking at his screen again, lips pulled into a tight line. “Um… it’s not mi—“

“It’s adorable,” you add, propping your chin in your palm, absolutely endeared with the rosy color that paints his cheeks, fades down the column of his neck. 

He squirms, hurriedly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’ll deny it again, nervously nibbling at his lower lip, before eventually he settles with a sigh. “I won it from a crane machine,” he confesses with a sheepish huff of laughter, rolling backwards to the edge of his bed to snatch it from its spot. 

(Of course he manspreads as he sits, dark jeans hugging his thighs as he rolls back your way. His arm looks so strong, covered in all that ink, you nearly drool.)

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” he says, abandoning his embarrassment as he shakes the little figure around, makes it look like it’s dancing for you. “My mom said it looks like me.”

At that, you laugh. Loud and boisterous because you were definitely not expecting Jungkook to say that, such an odd but weirdly fitting comparison that has you looking at the doll in his hands with renewed interest. And through the pixelated screen, you can see the similarities: Jungkook does have the same smile as Keroppi. 

“Your mom was right,” you agree, wiping a faux tear from the corner of your eye. “Very cute.” 

Jungkook’s got this big goofy smile on, shaking his head in disbelief that you would ever dare agree with his mom. Like he’s genuinely enjoying himself, you think, oddly proud to have evoked that reaction from him. Granted, Jungkook always looks like he’s pretty happy during class, but it feels nice knowing that you were (confirmed) the reason why.  

A little caught up with the bumbling feeling in your chest, you’re not expecting his next words. “Does that mean I’m cute?” he asks, still with that same dopey smile on his face. 

It’s a bold statement you wouldn’t have expected from him, someone who seems content being the world’s friend, but apparently Jeon Jungkook also craves compliments. 

Slowly, you nod. “...yes,” you say, trying to keep the tumultuous emotions inside of you at bay while you grant him this one compliment. Outwardly, you give him what you hope is an obviously feigned look of disbelief, managing to lace it with a little amusement as you shake your head at his inquiry. On the inside, your mind and heart are a thundering racetrack, the roar of the engines and the screams of the crowd enough to momentarily make you lose your senses. “Very cute,” you repeat, hoping he can’t hear the same pounding of your heartbeat in your throat and in your ears as you do. “Like a little frog.” 

Jungkook graces your robotic response with the most boyish laugh, head tossed back as one loud cackle (because, really, there is no other way to describe the sound that tears itself from his throat) escapes him, curls bouncing back from the movement. “Cute like a frog,” he wheezes, seemingly to himself as he shakes his head with a grin, scooting closer to the camera again. “That’s a new one.” 

“You set yourself up for it,” you defend, busying yourself with the papers spread out in front of you before Jungkook can distract you any further. “Anyway!” you announce, neatly lining the papers up. “Our group.”

Jungkook does his best to wipe the glee off his face, but even as he reaches around for his things, it’s still there. “Right,” he agrees, “we have to, um—“ a huff of laughter “—group contract! Or, well, partner project.”

Briefly, you consider calling in your professor to inform him of your missing partner. He had said to let him know by the end of today if something was wrong. But, honestly, you didn’t see a problem with your group the way it was now. While you can only hope he’ll turn out to be as dedicated to his work as you, as it stands now, there weren’t any major red flags surrounding Jungkook’s character. 

Besides, you didn’t mind being with him for the rest of the semester. 

You nod, forcing yourself to ignore the glimmer in his eyes when he looks at you through the screen. “I think it’s safe to say it’ll just be the two of us, which I don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the time on the corner of your screen to see five minutes have passed since you agreed to wait. “Do you?”

On screen, Jungkook profusely shakes his head, curls bouncing all over the place. “Nope,” he hums. “I don’t mind at all,” he reassures you, resting his chin in his palm as he regards you, and then sweetly adds, “it’ll be nice with just us, __.”

Right. 

You gulp, heart fluttering at the dreaminess he exudes through your screen, the soft strand of hair that falls over his forehead, tickles his brow bone when he flashes you another smile.  He was so handsome. Before you say anything silly, you quickly attempt to move on. “But it does make us more of a duo than a group.” 

Jungkook looks away from his screen for the first time in what feels like forever and you finally let your heart rest for a second. “A duo,” he murmurs, shuffling through his papers. “Like Mickey and Minnie?” 

You nearly choke on your spit, coughing to hide the surprise from his rather cute suggestion. He’s not even looking at you, doesn’t even realize the absolute shock he’s thrown you in by comparing the two of you to one of the most famous couples— that’s what they are, a goddamn couple, not a duo! the words mean two completely different things! —in the world. Instead, Jungkook is humming the theme song to Drake & Josh. 

This man was dangerous for your heart. 

After having felt all the emotions in the world in the span of ten seconds, you eventually gather the courage to say, “sure,” and quickly try to move the conversation along. “We just need to, um, make some ground rules and responsibilities for us to follow.” 

Jungkook nods, finally glancing up again, but not at you. He’s glaring at some point behind his computer, brows furrowed together as he begins brainstorming on his own. You try to, really, but his lips pout adorably when he’s deep in thought, and they’re just so pink and look so soft and would feel like—

“Well, we should probably exchange numbers first,” Jungkook says, interrupting your spiraling thoughts with a new topic to spiral over. He tilts his head to the side, brown eyes focused on you. 

“Yes, of course,” you stammer, fumbling for your phone as Jungkook lets out a soft yay at your acceptance of his request. Quickly, he recites his number and you type it in with trembling hands into the number pad, giving him a quick call so he can have your number as well. 

You save him right away, just his name followed by the class you share with him. Not like you know any other Jeon Jungkooks, and if you did, you doubt anyone could ever leave such an impact like this Jeon Jungkook. 

“__, look,” Jungkook calls, that same excitement lacing his already lovely voice, and you raise your head up at the screen again. He’s waving his phone over his camera, so you don’t get to see his face when he says, “It’s a little mouse emoji and a pink bow— just like Minnie!”

Dangerous for your heart and, most likely, the death of you this semester.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[sserpente]

A/N: So this is a much requested Part II of this Christmas Imagine which I suppose you can also read on its own. Also has requests from @keepcalmandtravelonkate and @fandom-rpblog as well as the exclusive Zoom meeting idea. Haha, enjoy everyone! ♥

Words: 1822 Warnings: fluff

Christmas Eve came sooner than you had thought and it was about as cheerful as you had imagined it. Thor greeted you with mug of steaming hot chocolate first thing in the morning, wearing the ugly Christmas sweater you had bought him last year and Tony was already in the spacious living room with Pepper to finish up the preparations for his annual Christmas party.

You spent the entire day baking biscuits and didn’t see Loki all day but for some peculiar reason you hoped that he too would attend the biggest Christmas party in New York City. Tony had invited everyone—no, that was not entirely true, the party was, in fact, for everyone—especially those who had no one else to spend Christmas Eve with or wanted to do so with none other than the famous Avengers.

With a sigh, you finished applying your red lipstick and admired yourself in the mirror. The green dress shimmering like a thousand tiny crystals had cost you way more than what you would normally spend on clothes but the occasion was worth it. You had only realised after that green was Loki’s colour too. Another sigh escaped your lips.

The God of Mischief and you had not really spoken since the roof-incident. Part of you wondered whether he was about as confused as you about what had happened between you, especially after Thor had interpreted your entanglement in a romantic manner, the other insisted you didn’t think too much of it. Loki was just… Loki. Mysterious, mischievous and handsome. Wait… handsome?

By the time you arrived at the party, more than two dozen guests had already arrived. Dressed in Christmas pullovers, suits or festive dresses much like you, they held small glasses full of mulled wine, eggnog or champagne, munching on biscuits and other Christmas treats and chatting with each other and the superheroes who had already joined the party guests, impressing them with their stories and their skills.

Your heart skipped a beat when you spotted Loki standing only a few feet away from you. Heavens, he should not be allowed to wear suits. Instead of the light version of his Asgardian signature outfit you usually saw him in, the God of Mischief was dressed in an all-black suit complimenting his raven hair and tall figure. It was perfect to blend in and not attract too much attention, for many citizens still avoided him like the plague after everything that had happened only a few years back. Your eyes met, sending waves of electricity though you, and he nodded.

You furrowed your brows when somebody spoke your name. “Is that you?” Much to your dismay, you recognised the voice immediately. It belonged to Derek, your ex-boyfriend. Derek who collected action figures of the Avengers and who owned a Captain America costume worth five-hundred dollars. Derek, who had cheated on you with other women and, upon your break-up, had blamed you for the sexual imbalance in your relationship. Needless to say, you had not exactly ended it on good terms. The last thing you wanted to do was chat to him of all people on Christmas Eve. Much rather, you’d finally spend some time with Loki again. He was fun to be around once he had warmed up to someone…

“I tried to text you like… a hundred times.”

“I saw. I blocked your number after fifty.” You retorted.

“Don’t be like that. I was going to make up, you know.”

“You literally told me it’s my fault that you went ahead and fucked other women behind my back, Derek!”

“Because you didn’t give me what I need in the bedroom, baby. We should have talked about that more. It wouldn’t happen again. Let’s talk about this. Can I get you a drink?”

“No, thank you.”

“Okay… Care to dance with me then?”

“Absolutely not.” You hissed.

“Come on. You are not here with someone, are you?”

You blinked. Fuck. Think, think, think. “Yes, actually.” You lied quickly. Your eyes fell on Loki who met your gaze again in a strange and almost affectionate way—something had definitely changed between you since he had helped you decorate the Avengers facility and you remembered, with butterflies in your belly, how he had caught you in his arms when you had fallen off the roof like a bird with broken wings. The idea came to you before you could properly think it through. Derek would never dare to defy someone like Loki. He was your perfect alibi to get rid of him.

“I’m here with my boyfriend. You probably know Loki?” Before you could change your mind, you stepped forward, closed the remaining distance between you and put your arm under Loki’s. He did not fail to react. Turning away from Thor, he frowned and stared at your linked arms, then opened his mouth to question you. Much to your relief, however, the gesture did not seem to anger him.

You shot him a pleading glance. Play along, you thought. Please, take the hint.

“Are you serious right now?” Derek spat, a both disgusted and shocked expression on his face.

Much to your surprise—or maybe not—Loki wrapped his arms around your middle then, pressing you against his strong body. Your heart skipped a beat. This felt like him cradling you in his arms like a bride, only more… intense, for this time—this time, it was actually intentional.

Loki gave Derek a glare, his lips ghosting over your forehead. “Are you alright, my sweet mortal?” My sweet mortal? “I believe you have promised me a dance.”

Derek swallowed, blinking at you a few times—and then, without a word, he shook his head and disappeared in the burbling and dancing crowd. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Good thing for you he’d always been a coward.

But while relief was flooding your veins, at the very same time, adrenaline set every single cell of your body on fire. Loki was still holding you. His lips against your skin had felt like the gentle kiss of a butterfly… You looked up, if anything not to make the situation even more awkward than it already was, given that by now, both Thor and Natasha had become rather taken aback witnesses as well.

“Thank you. I really owe you.” You muttered.

“I take it this was a former suitor of yours?”

You gave him a weak smile. “That’s a very elegant way to put it but yes, he is my ex-boyfriend. I left him when I found out he cheated on me—repeatedly. I panicked when he approached me and I knew he’d be scared of you.”

“Why thank you.” Loki replied with dismay before, much to your surprise, a smirk grew on his lips.

“No! I just meant…”

“I know what you meant. So?”

“S-so what?”

“He is still watching you. You would do well to keep up the act.” Loki said, keeping you from spinning around to check. But he was probably right either way. You had just announced in front of a bunch of strangers as well as your ex-boyfriend and two Avengers that Loki and you were dating. You were honestly surprised the Trickster did not at all seem too bothered by this very circumstance, not to mention what it meant for you. Ever since the roof-incident, you certainly didn’t mind clinging onto him like that.

“Dance with me.” He commanded softly, one of his large hands coming to rest on your waist while the other interlinked with yours. “He will lose interest if you feign easiness.”

You nodded quickly, leaning into him to not raise any suspicion and taking a deep breath when the side of your face connected with his chest. Loki rested his chin on the top of your head, weighing you gently from side to side as if the music was made of waves carrying you over an ocean. It was a classic playing right now—What are you doing New Year’s Eve by Ella Fitzgerald—sweet, calm… romantic. This evening was going in a very dangerous direction now but you couldn’t help but feel safe and protected in the God of Mischief’s arms. Who would have thought that putting up Christmas decoration together would create such a strong bond between two people… a mortal and a god on top of that?

“I got you a Christmas present, you know.” You murmured after a while.

His voice vibrated in his chest, you could feel it against your cheek. “Did you now?”

“Hmm…” He stole away your ability to speak. That was so unfair! “I was going to give it to you tomorrow morning but… would you like me to give it to you now, in private?” It would be the perfect excuse to get away from here for a bit too, even if, in better lighting, Loki would probably notice your blushed cheeks.

“Lead the way, my sweet mortal.” There it was again. Smiling up at him sheepishly, you moved a step back and took his hand, practically fleeing from the scene.

Loki remained in the doorway when you reached your room. Whether it was out of decency or respect, you couldn’t quite tell. You crossed your room with quick steps, reaching for Loki’s gift under your bed. You had wrapped it in green paper and decorated it with a golden bow. A bit of a cliché perhaps but it looked just perfect.

“Merry Christmas, Loki.” You said when you returned to him and handed it to him. He only took it hesitatingly.

“Why did you get me a gift?”

You shrugged. “I just wanted to be nice. I doubt the others will have gotten you something so I thought… just so you can unwrap something too?” You almost choked on your nervous laughter. “You know I almost decided not to give it to you after all after you almost drove me mad when I was hanging up the Christmas lights.”

Loki chuckled. “I suppose you made that consideration before I saved your life.”

“More or less...” You replied, winking at him. Hey… this isn’t so hard after all!

Your heart was pounding in your chest by the time he unwrapped it, revealing the notebook and the green and gold fountain pen you had gotten him. It even came with green ink.

“It’s not much, really, just…” You said quickly. “I keep seeing you scribbling and reading a lot and I thought…”

“Thank you.” He interrupted. Honesty swung in his smooth voice, making your heart beat faster in an instant. At this speed, you were going to need an ambulance soon.

You smiled. “I ought to thank you. Derek is a dick. You saved me twice now, I’m in your debt.”

Loki chuckled once more, looking you deeply in the eye. “Yes. I believe you are.” It was, without a doubt, a promise.

-

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente 

[mrsgiovanna]

The Escape Route (Yan! Don Giorno x Fem!Reader)

A request from a lovely nonnie mouse asking how the Don would handle his darling attempting to escape from his home. A bit of a drawn out scenario... I really hope you enjoy the read.

TW: Manipulative relationship dynamics, possessive behaviour, yandere behaviour

Word Count: 2.7k

Your brisk walk was slowly turning into a run as you worked your way through the busy streets of Naples. With your breathing ragged and eyes darting around to make sure nobody was on your tail, you tried to think about how best to put your escape plan back on track.

You knew that Giorno’s influence extended further than most, but you hadn’t expected him to have the power to derail every single option you had thought of to escape from his overpowering grip. You had been running around for hours now, from station to station, none would book you a ticket to anywhere, every cab ride was hastily halted after a dubious phone call… resulting in you being unwillingly ejected from the vehicle each time. So there you were, running into the more dangerous parts of Naples, frantically looking for some kind of shelter to house you while you thought of what you would do next.

Thankfully, you found a tiny inn, sparse amenities, small and far removed enough you thought, to not be on Giorno’s radar. The kindly old lady didn’t ask many questions, and you paid with the cash you had been slowly hiding away for such an event.

You couldn’t pinpoint when your relationship with Giorno had descended to this but you knew that if you stayed any longer his charming brand of captivity would best your common sense and you would be trapped forever. With Giorno, you had access to anything, no request was too demanding… in exchange though he required you to be within his confines at all times, listen to and obey his honeyed instructions with minimal fuss, and to not run off in the occasions when he did take you out of the mansion. I’m just keeping you safe he said… little did you know that the most dangerous one of all was the Don himself with his hypnotic gaze.

To give him the benefit of the doubt, it could have been much worse, he never harmed you physically, never pushed the intimacy boundaries further than you allowed… in your moments of weakness, it was you who had sought out his embrace. The absurdity of it all- vacillating between love and hate for this man, and so to protect the fraying thread that held your sanity together, you decided to make a run for it. It was not an impulsive idea, you had spent the better part of the year planning your grand escape, trying to imagine every way in which your plan could go awry and possible solutions to the problems. Ironically, this was a habit that you had picked up from Giorno himself, and should your plan actually work, it would be quiet poetic- escaping using the traits of your captor against him. You had gathered small amounts of cash here and there, not enough to rouse anyone’s suspicion, and made sure that any and all evidence of you memorizing the layout of the surrounding areas was completely erased. Perhaps the most difficult task of them all, was to lure Giorno into false sense of security regarding your disposition towards your situation. In the weeks leading up to your escape, you had flawlessly played the part of the dutiful ‘wife’, listening attentively, spoiling him with gentle touches and loving gazes, making sure to build up your affections gradually, as if they had been blooming naturally so as not to trigger any suspicion.

Finally, you saw your opportunity to make your move that morning. Giorno had to leave early to meet with a few associates from Japan, so you rose with him, and watched as he got ready, helping him with his hair and doing up his tie. Looking up to meet his crystalline eyes, you noticed he considered you with an expression you haven’t seen on him before.

“What is it tesoro? Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked in a gentle tone.

“You’re… just so beautiful… would you like to come with me today? I’m sure they would love to meet you… I call them associates but in actual fact one of them is a relative of mine. You’ll only be bored for a little while; after that we can do whatever you would like to,” he asked with a gentle smile. You thought about how you were going to answer, ultimately you knew you didn’t want to go, favoring your grand escape instead, but denying him that quickly would definitely set off alarm bells in his mind.

“Ah! Perhaps next time my love, I’m not going to be good company today, I woke up with a bit of a headache… I’ll probably go back to bed and sleep it off after you leave,”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to make you feel any better bella, I hate the fact that you’re hurting,” Giorno cupped your face in his hands and gently stroked your cheeks with his thumbs, “get some rest bella mio, I’ll be back to check on you as soon as I can,” kissing you on the forehead he left without another word. Waiting for him to be completely out of the villa, you watched as his car exited the driveway before quietly packing what you could, mentally going over your checklist more times than you cared to count. Since your change in attitude, the staff at the villa were more accepting of your whims, partly to do with the fact that Giorno had instructed them to do so - within reason, but also, because you had won over their trust and if you had to be honest with yourself, there was nothing you could fault them for. The dynamic Giorno had with them was not ruled by fear, but rather by admiration… all of them being drawn in by his charisma. Managing to maneuver your way through the mansion and out an exit that saw you climbing over a hidden portion of the eastern wall surrounding the villa, you had finally been outside the confines of the villa on your own for the first time in well over a year.

In the car on the way to meet with his guests Giorno was preoccupied. He had noticed the gradual change in your behavior and as much as he would have loved to give you the benefit of the doubt, a nagging inclination that you might be lying always clouded his thoughts. He loved you- entirely- even though there were days in which you rejected his affections, he was patient with you… eventually you’d understand, the dangers that lurked in every corner made your captivity, as you so unceremoniously called it, a necessity. He had grown so accustomed to making decisions with little to no advice, he had adopted that stance in his personal life as well. He rationalized that once you had accepted the fact that his actions were all borne from his desire to protect you, your lives would be peaceful, until then, he would be patient, enduring your tantrums and snide remarks with the grace of an aristocrat… which only upset you further. To Giorno, you were to be looked after, protected- treasured, and so no matter how much you had tested his patience in the beginning, not once were you ever hurt or taken advantage of. Violence and shackles were much too unrefined for a gem like you, so to correct your behavior, the young don resorted to other, less threatening means of discipline.

“Don Giovanna? We have arrived,” shaken out of his musings by his consigliere, his attention was drawn to the fact that they had arrived at their destination ready to discuss the matters at hand.

“Thank you Lorenzo, would you check if the staff has everything ready while I greet our guests?”

“Of course, excuse me,” with that, Lorenzo had left, hastily attending to a call as he walked.

“Ah, welcome to Italy, I take it you and your associates have settled in well?” said Giorno with a polite bow, being mindful of the cultural conventions of his esteemed guests. Drinks were ordered and everyone present had settled down in the private lounge, except for Lorenzo who had been animatedly conversing on the phone for enough time to make his absence felt. Frustrated by what he was tasked to do, he abruptly ended his conversation and sought out Giorno to give him the news, finally, the staff at villa Giovanna had realized you were gone.

“Don…”

“The expression on your face can only mean one thing… when did they notice?”

“A few minutes ago, she couldn’t have gotten too gar given the timeframe… what would you like me to do?”

“You stay here and keep our guests company, I’ll handle this…” not even bothering to alert the driver, Giorno collected the keys from the valet and zoomed off. Making a short drive even shorter, he arrived home in foul mood, although he did assign some of the blame to himself, recognizing his fatal error when he ignored his gut feeling, he was disappointed at how easily you had managed to slip from his grasp and wondered if his staff had been plotting with you all along. He would have to address that later on though, his primary concern now was to locate you and bring you back home.

“Mista, I have a special request to make, please come to the villa, bring Fugo with you,” said Giorno in a quick call, there were few who he trusted more than his underbosses, and this task was something that required only the most competent people. After a short explanation of the situation at hand, both men had already started making calls to the relevant people in an attempt to thwart your plans.

You would think the most frightening thing about Giorno would be his god-like requiem ability. But over and above the raw power he possessed was his reach, the world seemed so small, as if it had rested comfortably in his elegant hands- and you had been getting reminders of this inescapable fate over and over again. By the time you had given up on the idea of escaping through any traditional means of transportation, you must have tried fifty different avenues, each attempt failing more spectacularly than the last. Having had enough, you resigned yourself to the fact that you would not be leaving Naples immediately, and found refuge in the outskirts of the city. You climbed the rickety staircase behind the lady as she prattled on about her day.

“Shall I get you something to eat dolcezza? You look like you could use something warm and comforting in your system. In fact, let me do just that, you get settled in so long,” said the innkeeper before you had a chance to interject. Deciding to take a shower to wash off the day, you took comfort in the fact that this place was so remote, you were almost certain you were safe for the meantime. The tiny bathroom was a far cry from the palatial one you had grown accustomed to while being in Giorno’s villa, but it served the same purpose, only this time, you had your freedom. The place was peaceful though aside from the sound of what must have been a car backfiring and the small creaks from the natural expansion and contraction of the dwelling, it was quiet enough for you to calm down and organize your thoughts. Now that you were comparatively more at ease than before, you felt the strain of the day in your body, aching muscles, sore feet and cuts and scrapes that began to smart affixed a slight grimace to your face as you rummaged through your belongings to find some sort of pain relief.

A sharp knock on the door disrupted your search. You stayed silent for a moment, contemplating if you should ignore it or answer.

“Dolcezza, I’ve brought you a small snack, you’re going to enjoy it,” you just wanted to crawl into bed and forget the day you had, but you also didn’t want to snub her kindness, you reached out to unlock and open the door.

“Buongiorno tesoro… enjoying your little excursion? Marina here was kind enough to show me to your room so I could surprise you… seems like it worked, look at this charming expression,” turning to the smiling woman, Giorno nodded for her to leave. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, you wanted to cry, to run, to jump right out through the hazy window but your feet were rooted to the ground.

“Well (y/n) … you’ve been running around Naples for the entire day, have you found what you’re looking for?” his usual honeyed tone was laced with derision as he critically eyed your surroundings. “is this what you were so desperate to escape to? Look at this place… look at the condition you’re in… how is any of this better than everything I’ve given you?”

“I have my freedom here…” was all you could muster as your mind raced thinking of how he had still managed to find you despite all the precautions you had taken. “Giorno, how…”

“How did I find you? I always have my ways…” he said, sauntering over to the window, opening it just enough to make eye contact with whoever was outside, dismissing them with a nonchalant wave of his gloved hand. Pulling out his cellphone, he showed you the opened application, explaining that he had been using it to track your location, following the signal from the diamond earrings he gifted you on your birthday, carelessly left on when you had made your hasty escape. In all fairness, you hadn’t considered that the dainty gems were anything more than that. Feeling your legs starting to give out under you at the revelation that you were the cause of your own undoing, you sat on the bed hanging your head in defeat.

“Freedom, you say? Tell me how has that worked for you?”

“That’s not fair! You’ve basically controlled every single encounter I’ve had, and even when I thought I had escaped you by coming here, you still somehow managed to manipulate the situation…” you shouted, tears of frustration running feely down your face.

“Stop being dramatic, the world is full of horrible people, everyone is looking out for themselves, I wish you would realize that… tell me tesoro, how many people turned you away? Threw you out of their cars, made up excuses to deny your requests? Not one of those people looked into those pleading eyes and thought you were worth helping. Why? Because people are selfish…”

“You… you threatened them all, you…”

“You give me too much credit, it’s not like I was going to kill them, I hate violence, despite your disappointingly low opinion of me, even you have to admit that I’ve never done anything to physically harm you… all I want is to protect you, you don’t understand how things work out there,”

“It’s not like you’ve ever given me the opportunity to find out how things are… I”

“Some people are just meant to be loved and protected tesoro, isn’t that enough? Why would you want to risk being hurt to get a taste of something that’s actually not even worth it… you’re not cut out for this life… I’ve been here so I know this isn’t what you deserve. You’re coming back home with me,”

“But, I- “ you attempted to interject but his intense glare halted you.

“(y/n), I’m very patient under most circumstances, but please don’t test me now, I won’t say it twice…” said Giorno with a slight bite to his voice, it was clear he was growing tired of this conversation, and you were losing your will to fight back. With a quivering lip and misty eyes, you moved to gather your belongings but was stopped by the young don, arguing that he can replace whatever is there, wanting no other reminders of this transgression to follow you both back. Resigning yourself to this fate, realizing there was nowhere beyond his reach, you grasped his outstretched arm and followed him to the car to return to your life of opulent captivity. Months and months of planning all resulting in nothing, it became glaringly obvious to you that escaping was futile…

[nerdzzone]

-More Hearts Than Mine-

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

Especially when a global pandemic is sweeping the world.

With lockdowns and stay at home orders looming on the horizon, the uncertainty of their situation becomes almost too much for Whitney Taylor to handle. Chris suggests that they quarantine together to avoid any potential separations but, given what happened the last time they spent more than a few brief moments in each other’s company, that could cause more problems than it solves…

Chris Evans x OFC

Sequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Part Two

____

Part Three

I did my best to take Scott's words to heart. It was eye-opening and, while it didn't change my concerns about how Grayson would be affected, it helped me soften my guard a little bit when it came to Chris.

We were both in over our heads, stuck with feelings that we didn't know what to do with and insecurities that left us unable to fight for what we wanted. I had doubts and I had questions, but if what Scott had divulged was true then I did have some sympathy for Chris because I knew exactly how he'd been feeling for the last few years.

So, I decided to talk to him. To hash it out, lay it all on the table and see what he had to say. I wasn't entirely sure I would change my mind about the situation, but I wanted to give him a chance to explain his thoughts and feelings unlike how I'd shut the conversation down after Christmas.

But I didn't count on how chaotic it was to be trapped in a house, all day every day, with a child who was almost three. Even with three adults, there were days when it felt like we were the ones who were outnumbered as we took turns trying to keep him constantly entertained and stimulated. To our credit, it was working and we were managing to keep Grayson from being bored, anxious to go out to a park or noticing that things were all that different, but it meant that I had no time or energy to deal with heavy conversations. Things were fine between Chris and I, we were getting along well enough with no more noteworthy disagreements, but there hadn't been a good time for any kind of heart-to-heart.

Things only got more complicated about a week and a half into our lockdown when Chris had to start doing interviews. He had a new show, Defending Jacob, coming out in a few weeks and he had to start the promo for it.

Most people who were working from home these days with small children running around had way more difficult situations to balance than we did, but we knew it would be tricky to keep Grayson from getting curious and barging into an interview. He'd proven to be quite sneaky when he wanted to be and Chris was anxious about the whole thing. He wasn't a big fan of interviews at the best of times so doing it over Zoom made him even more nervous. He spent the whole morning fretting about it being awkward, concerned that he wouldn't be able to relax and act natural, and it seemed like he was channelling his anxiety into his worries about Grayson. He very much liked to be in control of what the world saw of Gray and having him crash an interview wasn't what he wanted. I completely agreed and assured him several times that I wouldn't let that happen, but I could tell he was still stressed about it as he dragged himself off to get ready.

For the first hour or so that Chris was working, things went well. We read a story and played with some Lego, activities that wouldn't get Grayson too excited and noisy, but when Scott suggested that he curl up on the couch and watch Finding Nemo with him, we ran into a problem.

"Okay!" Grayson cheered, jumping up from where we'd been playing on the floor. "Be right back!"

He took off down the hall and I leapt into action, calling his name and stopping him just as he got to the bottom of the stairs.

"Where are you going, buddy?"

"To get my bear!"

Grayson's room was upstairs, next to Chris' office. He knew where Chris was so I knew there was a good chance he would stop by to say hello on his way past the door.

"Why don't you go get settled on the couch with Uncle Scott and I'll get your bear so you don't miss any of the movie?" I suggested. "Is he in your room?"

"No," he shook his head. "He's in Daddy's office."

I held back a groan, knowing that Gray would not be happy if I explained that he couldn't have his bear for the movie because we weren't allowed in Daddy's office right now. But I also knew that now he'd decided that he wanted to watch a movie, it wasn't likely that he would settle doing anything else either.

"Well, Daddy's very busy in his office right now," I explained. "But I'll go upstairs and see if I can sneak in and get him, okay?"

Grayson agreed to that suggestion and ran off back towards the living room as I glanced at the clock on the wall quickly and hoped that Chris was between interviews. I knew he wouldn't be done for the day just yet, but he had a few lined up so there was a chance that he wasn't currently on a call.

As soon as I pressed my ear to the door of Chris' office, my hopes were dashed. I could hear the sound of laughter echoing through from his laptop so I knew he was in the middle of something, but just as I was about to walk away I heard something that caught my attention.

"You have a son of your own, don't you?" The interviewer asked and I cringed, knowing that it wasn't something Chris liked to discuss. His character in the show was a father though so I wasn't surprised it had come up, it gave them a segue that they hadn't really had before. "How is that going with this lockdown?"

Ever the professional, Chris didn't even hesitate before he answered even though I knew he would be annoyed by the line of questioning.

"Oh, it's great! He's staying with me until all this is over so it's great that we get to spend so much time together," he told the interviewer. "I'm lucky enough to be in a situation where I can just take a few months off until things cool down without too much worry so we've just been relaxing, building blanket forts, watching movies and getting in some bonding time that I miss out on when I'm busy. It's had some challenges, but it's been really nice."

I knew I shouldn't be listening, it was rude to eavesdrop even if the conversation would shortly be broadcast to the whole world, but again, the interviewer's next question had me too intrigued to walk away. Despite all the talking points that he could have chosen from Chris' answer, he zeroed in on one thing.

"He's staying with you for the entire lockdown? Is there a rekindled romance we don't know about?" He asked. "Or is his mother no longer in the picture?"

My jaw dropped. I didn't know who Chris was talking with today, but it wasn't like his team to set him up for any interviews where he would be asked questions like that and most interviewers were too polite to fish for the kind of gossip you'd find in a trashy magazine.

"Oh, I'm not gonna get into all that." Chris' tone was much more clipped than it had been moments before - he was clearly not impressed by the question either. "It's not anyone's business really, is it? But I will say that she is definitely in the picture and one of the best moms that I know. She's staying here with us too."

My heart melted a bit at his compliment even though I knew the words he added at the end meant that we were in for a whole new gossip storm.

It suddenly felt like I really was overstepping by standing at the door listening to this conversation without his knowledge so I headed back downstairs. As I got back into the living room, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sent a message to Chris:

It would appear that you have a stowaway. I know you're busy, but please return Mr. Bear at your earliest convenience.

I put my phone away as I explained the situation to Grayson, but luckily, he was too interested in the movie to pay much attention to what I'd said. By the time Chris came down with the bear, it was like he'd forgotten that he ever cared about it in the first place.

Most of my attention was on Chris at that point though. The way he scurried into the room, avoiding looking in my direction at all. He looked ashamed and withdrawn and I couldn't hold back a sigh when he left the room quickly as I knew that he was beating himself up over the conversation that he didn't even know I'd heard.

-

Chris was sullen for the rest of the day. He perked up around Grayson, but whenever Gray was distracted there was a scowl or a frown firmly planted on his face. I wanted to say something, but I didn't know how without confessing that I'd overheard his interview. Given his mood and the ease with which we fell into disagreements these days, that seemed like it would cause more issues than it would help.

The news broke at about eleven that night and I knew because I was suddenly inundated with texts from friends and with follower requests on my private social media accounts. I pulled up the video and watched the interview, feeling another wave of empathy when I saw the annoyance written all over Chris' face as he answered the questions. He'd found a subtle way to shut the interview down almost immediately after the incident and I was proud of him for handling it so diplomatically.

I added it to the list of things that I needed to talk to Chris about whenever I got the chance as I pulled myself away from my laptop and headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth before bed. However, when I got into the hallway, I noticed a light coming up from downstairs. As far as I knew, everyone had gone to bed almost an hour ago, but I had a good idea whose thoughts would be keeping them awake so I headed down to investigate.

My suspicions were confirmed as I walked into the living room and saw Chris on the couch, his phone in his hand and his brow furrowed.

"Uh oh," I started, making his eyes snap up towards me. "Are you doomscrolling?"

The angry look on his face softened slightly as he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Doomscrolling?"

"Yeah," I shrugged with a smile. "That's what the kids call it these days when you spend too long scrolling through the news or Twitter, just soaking in all the bad shit in the world."

Chris chuckled as I moved into the room and sat on the opposite end of the couch that he was on, tucking my feet underneath me.

"I didn't know you were so down with the kids these days."

"I'm getting old, Chris. I'm almost thirty-two, I have to stay cool somehow." I shot him a wink. "But anyway, what are you reading that's making you look so grumpy?"

Chris sighed and locked his phone, putting it on the end table next to the couch.

"I said something in an interview today," he admitted. "Something that I shouldn't have said."

I watched him for a moment, waiting for him to look at me and elaborate, but when he didn't, I spoke up.

"I hope you're not about to tell me that you regret saying what a good mom I am or I'll be really disappointed..."

That comment brought Chris' gaze back to me, his shock evident on his face until it faded into a grimace.

"You heard what I said?"

"I watched the video," I admitted. "I had a flurry of Instagram activity that tipped me off."

"You didn't read the comments, did you?"

There was worry written all over Chris' face when I shrugged.

"Of course I did. Can't have my self-esteem getting too high, can we?" I was teasing, but his look of gloom only deepened. "Chris, it doesn't matter. I'm no supermodel, they're not saying anything I don't already know."

"See, this is what bothers me," Chris snapped. "My so-called 'fans' are out there spewing all this crap about you and you're acting like it's all true, so who cares? Well, I care because it's bullshit and you don't deserve it!"

"I didn't mean it like that," I assured him, keeping my voice quiet in an attempt to cool the situation.

We'd been here many times over the years and I knew how enraged the comments made Chris. He saw right through me, he knew that I took some of the things that had been said to heart, but who wouldn't? It's hard not to take it personally when someone points out your biggest insecurities, the things that you hope no one else notices, the things that you tell yourself can't possibly be true or as bad as you think in your head. It's impossible not to let it get to you a little bit, but I was well practiced at dealing with it and had grown a thicker skin.

At least, when it came to the comments about my appearance. The comments about how I'm not good enough and how Chris could do better always struck a cord, but it was nothing I couldn't handle.

"No?" Chris huffed. "What did you mean then?"

"That I know I'm an easy target because I'm not stick thin with a boob job," I answered, wanting to diffuse the situation before Chris got too upset. "They're cruel and mean, but they're just jealous because they think their dream boyfriend is taken now."

"Well, anyone who claims to be a real fan of mine wouldn't talk like that about someone I care about," he grumbled. "I shouldn't have answered, I should have just ignored the question."

"Actually, I'm glad you didn't. I'm glad you set the record straight rather than have everyone think I've abandoned my child. I would probably get even more hate for that."

"He shouldn't have even asked about it," Chris continued. "It was so out of line. Why can't people just mind their own business?"

"Because everyone adores you and has a burning desire to know everything about you," I teased, stretching my feet out to nudge his leg gently. His lips twitched briefly into a smile, but it faded as fast as it appeared. "Even my friends were all messaging me, asking if it was true like gossiping teenage girls. Everyone wants the Chris Evans scoop."

That comment earned me a chuckle and I relaxed slightly, hoping that he was starting to calm down.

"I'm sure your friends were more interested in the gossip about your life, not because of me."

"I dunno," I shrugged. "They always liked you."

Chris smiled, but a sigh slipped from his lips as he draped his arm over my feet where they rested on the couch next to him. We sat quietly for a moment as I continued watching him, wishing there was something I could say to ease the worry in his mind, but his next words left me a little bit speechless.

"I do get it, you know?" He said, his eyes still fixed firmly on the ground in front of him. "I get why you wouldn't want to be with me. I get that it's a lot to deal with."

My heart sank at his admission and I scrambled to figure out what to say.

It wasn't ideal - discussing our relationship, while he was already feeling quite murderous - but he'd brought it up and it was hard to say when we'd get another chance. Once again, I found myself fighting the urge to bolt for the door, but I swallowed hard and took a deep breath, hoping that this would be a civil conversation.

"Chris, it's not that," I insisted, my voice soft in what I hoped would be a soothing tone. "Maybe they didn't do anything to ease my concerns, but the bullies on the internet aren't what scared me away."

"No?" His eyes flicked up to meet mine. "Then what did?"

He sounded so defeated and I bit my lip to keep my emotions from bubbling up. The truth was that I didn't know where to start. There was too much floating around my head, too many questions and too many explanations that made less sense now that I knew what I knew after speaking with Scott. I was scared, but it was a very justified fear that could only be made sense of by answering his question with another question.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were in love with me?"

Chris raised an eyebrow, but shrugged off the question.

"You didn't seem like you wanted to hear it, Whitney. I told you that I was all in after Christmas and you shut me down pretty fast," he pointed out. "I didn't think blurting out a confession of love would do much to change that."

Had that been what I was referring to, it would have been a fair argument. However, I was referring to long before our latest incident so I shook my head.

"I talked to Scott," I confessed as a slight look of betrayal slid onto Chris’ face. "Don't be mad, he'd had a few drinks and was feeling sentimental. He told me that you were in love with me long before Grayson was even in the picture, but you never told me."

"I slept with you, didn't I?" He questioned, a defensiveness creeping into his tone. "Doesn't that make someone's feelings pretty fuckin' clear?"

"Hardly," I scoffed. "People sleep with people they're not in love with all the time and it becomes even less clear when they meet up afterwards to have a discussion about their relationship and that someone makes no mention of being in love."

"Was it really a discussion? Or did I show up at your apartment just to hear you lay out the ground rules?"

I faltered slightly as I thought back, but after a moment of reflection, I nodded.

"It was a discussion."

"I believe the first words out of your mouth were 'I think we both know that we're better off as friends'," he informed me. "Doesn't leave much room for debate."

"I was scared." That confession came out less confidently, but I found my voice again quickly. "And I assumed that's what you wanted too because you never pushed back."

He cocked his head to the side, a hint of a smirk on his face.

"You weren't the only one who was scared."

"I was the only one who was pregnant," I retorted, my tone growing harsher as my frustrations started to rise. "I was the only one who was trying to make a massive life decision while hormonal and growing another human being inside of them."

"That's fair," Chris nodded, his voice much calmer than I expected after my burst of annoyance. "But I wasn't about to pour my heart out and tell you how I felt when you kept talking about what a mistake we'd made as if you'd never regretted anything more in your life."

"Getting pregnant was a mistake," I clarified. "I love Grayson and I wouldn't change it for anything, but we can't say it wasn't a mistake at the time given our situation."

"A situation that you didn't want to change."

"Only because you never told me how you felt," I shot back. "I didn't want you to commit to something out of a sense of obligation. I didn't want you to put up with me for a few years until you dumped me for someone more in your league who you actually cared about."

There was a look of surprise on Chris' face at that revelation as it became more and more obvious to both of us that we hadn't been as good at communicating as we may have thought. It seemed we'd both been so convinced that we knew exactly how the other person felt that we hadn't bothered to actually ask them.

"But I did care about you," he assured me. "And you never told me how you felt either."

"I slept with you, didn't I?"

There was a smirk on my face as I threw his words back at him despite the anxiety that was bubbling inside me.

"A wise woman just informed me that sleeping with someone doesn't necessarily mean anything," he teased, a soft smile on his face. "But I think it's safe to say that we were both cowards."

"Again, in my defence, I was pregnant," I reminded him. "I was trying to make a logical decision while my brain was muddled with hormones."

"But you could have told me after," he pointed out. "We lived together for year after he was born, Whitney, and you never even dropped a hint."

"Oh, please," I snorted out a harsh laugh. "Do you remember what that year was like? We had a newborn baby who never slept for more than ten minutes at a time and you were flying in and out for the first six months, filming one of the Avengers movies. I was delirious, exhausted and emotionally wrecked. I wasn't in the right head space to give much thought to our relationship."

"So, if I had made a move back then? Would it have made a difference?" He asked. "Because it didn't seem to matter much a few months ago."

This was the real issue at hand.

It was all well and good to talk about the past and how we'd managed to come this far so oblivious to each other's feelings, but the real discussion was where we were at now. And the truth was, that I didn't know.

I opened my mouth to answer, but shut it as my words escaped me. I shifted nervously, shrugging under his stare until a sigh fell from my lips.

"I'm not sure anymore," I admitted. "If you'd told me how you felt back then, if you fought for us to be together then I might've been swayed."

"But now?"

"Now, I think we made the right decision for Grayson."

Chris was still staring me down, his eyes locked on mine as if he was looking into my soul. It was an intensity that was hard to endure and I was relieved when he spoke again, despite how his words made my heart ache.

"But what about the right decision for us?"

"That's not what's important," I insisted. "I've seen so many of my friends struggle through their parents' bitter divorces, I don't want that for Gray. I don't want us to lose our ability to work as a team and put him first."

"Yeah, you mentioned that several times," Chris huffed. "But I don't see why you're so fuckin' convinced that we'd end up hating each other."

His frustration and impatience was shining through and I felt my panic rising again. Chris had made his stance clear and I knew I needed to make a decision soon or my lack of decision would decide for me, but I felt like I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. The thought of not being with Chris made my heart ache especially now that I knew the extent of his feelings, but the thought of being with him and the consequences that could come from that set every anxious nerve in my body on edge.

I found myself scrambling for something to say that was non-committal, but would placate the situation. I floundered until, fortunately, a tiny voice from the doorway saved me.

"Daddy said a bad word..."

I leapt off the couch, desperate for any excuse to get away and Chris raised his eyebrow at my swift reaction. I ignored him as I looked at Grayson, who was rubbing his eyes with one hand and clutching his bear in the other. He looked so small, standing there in his little flannel pajamas and I smiled at the sight.

"That is a bad word," I agreed. "Daddy shouldn't have said it. But what are you doing up?"

"I had a bad dream."

His voice was small as he was still half asleep and Chris stood, following me over as I walked towards him.

"I'm sorry to hear that, buddy," he said, lifting him up in his arms. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Grayson shook his head. "It was scary."

"Awe, I'm sorry, sweetheart," I frowned as I rubbed his back, my heart melting at how small he looked in Chris' arms. "Do you want me to tuck you back in or Daddy?"

He rested his head on Chris' chest and pulled his bear so close that his answer got muffled by the stuffed animal's fur.

"I want to sleep in Daddy's bed..."

I looked up at Chris, letting him decide if that was okay, but he was already nodding his head.

"Sure, we can do that," he assured him. "But don't hog all the blankets this time, okay?"

Grayson giggled and I smiled as they headed to the door.

"Goodnight, boys," I called to them before they disappeared. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight." Chris paused to answer me and flashed me a look that made me feel like a schoolgirl being scolded by the principal. "This conversation isn't over."

It felt like a foreboding warning and it left me so flustered that all I could do was nod before he turned and continued on his way to his bedroom.

He was right.

Our conversation couldn't end there unless we wanted another four years of miscommunication and mutual longing, but I didn't know what to do. I wasn't trying to be difficult, but both options seemed destined to lead to heartache. Of course, I had no evidence to prove that we wouldn't live happily ever after, but he was Chris Evans. He was the man that women all over America, all over the world, would kill to be with. And I was just me. Once I fell off whatever pedestal he'd put me on in his mind and he realized how ordinary and unremarkable I was, it wouldn't last.

And I couldn't spend the rest of my life waiting for the other shoe to drop.

With a sigh, I headed to the stairs. My head was a mess despite my hopes that talking to Chris would bring me some clarity. It seemed I was starting a pattern of coming away from late night conversations with more questions than answers, but I was beginning to think that might be due to the fact that I would never be told what I wanted to hear. No one could make this decision for me and no one could make it a fool proof choice.

There was always a risk when it came to love. I just had to decide if that risk was worth it and start being honest with myself about why I was so scared. Were my intentions really as noble as I wanted everyone to believe? Or was I using Grayson as a shield to protect my own heart from pain as much as his?

-

Part Four

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10

[snackhobi]

pairing: hoseok x reader / word count: 26.8k / genre: fluff, smut, mutual pining, best friends to lovers, slow burn, technically a buzzfeed unsolved AU but you don’t need to be familiar with BFU at all so dw!

summary: having hoseok as your best friend and co-host for your web series is a dream come true. the only hitch? you’re kind of in love with him, and it’s getting harder to ignore that fact, even if he doesn’t feel the same for you. 

warnings: idiots being oblivious, sexually explicit content, oral (f receiving + brief mentions of m receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), body worship + praise (f receiving), a lot of soft emotions and pet names, hoseok treating reader like a pillow princess

a/n: the more I read this the less happy I am with it but after the amount of time I’ve spent on it/how long it’s gotten, I’m calling it finished (even if it’s a lot lighter on paranormal related stuff than I’d initially planned OOPS...) please feel free to let me know what you think AHH x

--

Jung Hoseok is a lot of things. 

Jung Hoseok is: a work-friend-turned-real-friend-turned-best-friend, and one of your favourite people in the world. 

Jung Hoseok is: very easily scared, the opposite of a thrillseeker, Not A Fan of big rollercoasters, or haunted houses, or anywhere that involves jump scares or loud noises or anything vaguely dangerous or threatening. 

Jung Hoseok is: a man with ridiculous lung capacity who can also screech so loudly that you’re fairly certain he could shatter glass if he wanted to.

“It’s just a bat, hyung,” Jimin says, before the bat comes back round and Hoseok shrieks again.

Jung Hoseok is: clinging to you with a vice-like grip as aforementioned bat flutters above you, squeaking and trilling, and you stroke his hand in an absent, instinctual motion, trying to soothe him.

“I definitely heard footsteps as well,” Hoseok whimpers. “Why are we here?” 

Why are you here? Well, because Jung Hoseok is also: your co-host for one of BigHit’s most popular series, BigHit Unsolved.

It’s funny, in a roundabout sort of way, that Hoseok’s general fear of Most Things had been the thing that had cinched him his spot. You’d never expected Unsolved to explode in the way it had, starting off as a short video series with Yoongi beside you to bounce off as you described unsolved crimes, but then Hoseok had starred opposite you and the audience had just eaten it up: the way he got spooked at real life events, the modulation of his voice when it would rise or dip in fear, the way you riffed off each other- you, calm but enthused about your topic, and Hoseok, a quivering jelly of a man when scared.

Not to mention that Hoseok is just great on screen anyway, personable and bright and charming. He makes you laugh and brings out a level of exuberance in you in a way that no one else can, makes you do ridiculous things without even trying- your interactions are good video fodder, basically, and your audience loves how your friendship comes across on the show. 

And that’s another funny thing. You’d known Hoseok before Unsolved, of course, because everyone knows Hoseok, because Hoseok is wonderful, a sunshine of a man, loved by all. You, however, hadn't really spoken much to him- when you'd started at BigHit you'd been crushing on Hoseok in kind of a big way and you'd been worried about embarrassing yourself in front of him, so… you'd done the logical thing of avoiding him as much as was possible without being rude or weird. Face your problems and anxieties? In this economy? Haha, you don't think so.

Anyway. Because of this, your interactions had been pretty limited up until you’d asked him to appear in one of your videos. If anyone asked it was because you’d thought he would be a fun, one-off guest star, which was true, but the main reason was that Yoongi had cancelled because he was sick and no one else had been free when you’d been scrabbling around the office for a replacement. Despite not knowing you all too well, and despite being scared easily by true crime (“my mum watched CSI when I was a kid and it gave nightmares,” he’d told you afterwards), Hoseok had heard about your plight and was happy to replace Yoongi for the episode, and you’d found out that- despite your initial worry that you were going to make things weird- you get on really well.

Like, really well. Not just on camera, either. Before they’d started to roll, you’d been frantically making sure everything was in place, that you had all your notes, that all the pre-production was ready- and Hoseok had made you stand still, taking your hands in his, and he’d smiled at you in a way that had been so warm and comforting that all the tension had leaked out of you. After that it had just been so easy. You’d felt relaxed and the episode had come out great, and then Hoseok suggested that you grab lunch together in the cafeteria so you could get to know each other more. Of course you’d agreed- and the rest is history.

It didn’t take long for Hoseok to turn from a nice and funny colleague, to someone you actively looked for at work gatherings, to someone who you decided to ask to be your permanent co-host for the show, to someone who now has a spare key for your flat in case he ever runs out of snacks or just feels like dropping by. Which he feels like doing a lot, apparently, but you have a key for his place too, so it’s all even stevens. (You steal a lot of his face masks whenever you visit him and he never complains.)

Over time your huge crush on Hoseok has ebbed into a deep platonic love, fading and morphing into a comfortable friendship. Okay, sure, you still think he’s the most beautiful person in the universe and you’d immediately accept if he asked you to marry him and you kind of want to kiss him on the mouth sometimes (a lot of the time) or whatever, but that’s because you know how wonderful he is. It’s platonic. Not romantic. Mmhm. (Mostly.) Either way, you're completely comfortable around him despite any lingering feelings you might have, which is something you appreciate more than you can put into words.

So fast forward to now, multiple seasons into your show, and you’re more than used to Hoseok’s fear and touch. It had been startling, at the beginning, when Hoseok had grabbed onto you whenever he was afraid, but now you’re used to navigating places in the dark while Hoseok clings onto you like a particularly oversized backpack or holds your hand like a lost school child. (You’ve lost count of the minutes, nay, hours of footage that exist of Hoseok doing this, like some sort of gangly limpet, but you don’t mind.) Fans love to splice together footage comparing interactions over the seasons and it’s very obvious how wide eyed and stiff you used to go whenever Hoseok seized you, but now? This is your every day, baby.

Hoseok is still cowering behind you as the lone bat flaps above you, high up in the rafters of the old generator building you’re standing in. You and your crew and your guide are the only people at the abandoned gold mine, so Hoseok can’t have heard footsteps, other than your own- which is what you tell him.

“I think it was the building settling, Hobi,” you say. “This mining warehouse is pretty old.”

“Old and full of ghosts.” Hoseok moans. Jimin readjusts the camera and you know that, without a doubt, he’s zooming in on Hoseok’s terrified face. Namjoon’ll have some fun shots to edit later. Jimin is a very capable cameraman, and also unruffled by ghosts/loud noises/etc, but he does love to catch some interesting angles of the two of you. At least Taehyung refrains from doing that, although he does sometimes get too focused on making a shot artistic rather than capturing the abject terror on Hoseok’s face when it would be a good clip for the final video.  

“Well, we don’t know that.” You pause. “Maybe we should test it with the spirit box to find out?”

Hoseok’s face twists and you can’t help but laugh.

The supernatural half of the show wouldn’t exist without Hoseok. Your fans enjoyed his eternal suffering and fear whenever anything remotely spooky was mentioned, so they'd bandied about the idea of a paranormal-themed season and you'd taken the idea on board; the juxtaposition between yourself and your co-host was all the more defined when he was banshee shrieking at some innocuous sound while you stayed calm. You’re open to the concept of the supernatural but have yet to come across any evidence that you find compelling enough to make you a believer, while Hoseok is convinced in the existence of ghosts and finds the idea terrifying.

He doesn’t like the spirit box because of this, but you don’t mind it- although you don't really like the loud static it makes when it’s scanning through radio frequencies, trying to pick up if any spirits or ghouls are trying to talk to you. (They’re not, even if Hoseok insists that the random bursts of sound it spits out are definitely coherent words and sentences, rather than a mish-mash of random rubbish that it just happens to pick from normal radio waves.)

The spirit box, of course, is about as interesting as normal: that is to say, not really at all, though you have a good laugh after you ask for any spirits to give you a name and the only response is ‘pineapple pie’, which makes you feel hungry. Hoseok lets you rummage around in his pocket for a cereal bar, which you end up munching on between shots, as Hoseok swats bugs away from your faces. He attempts to karate chop a mosquito but misses by miles and you almost choke on a mouthful of oats as he makes the world’s most incredulous face and you giggle.

“We should make pineapple pie for a video at some point,” you suggest, and Hoseok is briefly distracted from his fear- he’d given up on the bugs and has been shining his torch over your shoulder at some old generator equipment and casting warped shadows on the walls behind it, dark silhouettes that could admittedly be considered a little spooky. “I’ve never had pineapple pie before.”

“There’s a Filipino bakery near our place that sells it!” Taehyung jumps in before Hoseok can respond, turning away from where he and Jimin have been making shadow puppets on the wall with their own torches. “It’s so good, you should definitely do it.”

Hoseok hums. “Jin-hyung would probably be happy to help out,” he says. You finish the cereal bar and tuck the wrapper back into Hoseok’s pocket, making a mental note to get in touch with the Tasty team member to ask him about it. He’ll leap at the opportunity. 

There’s a clattering noise somewhere far in the distance, probably rocks shifting or something, and Hoseok squeaks and crowds even closer to you, as impossible as that is with how he’s already wrapped around your back at this point, the harness for his chest-mounted camera digging into your spine. It’s a familiar sensation by this point. “Please can we get out of here now?”

“Sure,” you say indulgently, stroking Hoseok’s arm where it’s wrapped around your collarbones. “We need to drive down to the mining tunnels now anyway.”

Hoseok keeps hold of your hand as your guide drives you to your location, squeezing your fingers every time the car goes over a bump- which is pretty often on the rocky dirt track. Hoseok’s fairly touchy in general, always holding hands or hugging or kissing people, raining little pecks over their faces, and it had been Very Overwhelming when he’d first turned this attention to you. You’re not, like, not touchy, but back in season 1 you were definitely not used to spending time with someone who loves skinship as much as Hoseok does, and it had taken time for you to stop freezing up every time he casually touched or grabbed you.

It says a lot about how used you are to it now that you don’t even bat an eyelid when he wriggles into your twin bed at the hotel later, curling up around you once he’s finished his meticulous skincare routine.  “Your bed is over there, Hobi,” you say, although you immediately snuggle back into him, letting him spoon you. He’s always a lot clingier after you finish filming a supernatural episode- as if you can ward off any ghosts that might have decided to hitch a ride back from wherever you’d come from.

“I know,” Hoseok replies. He hitches a leg over yours, sighing happily when you reach an arm down to rub his calves. He always sleeps better if you massage him.

“I can’t wait to get home.” You dig your fingers into a muscle and Hoseok squirms a little. You huff out a laugh. “Arizona is so hot.”

“You look cute in shorts, though,” Hoseok says. He’s been saying the same thing all day.

“You just like shorts.” He’d been wearing shorts too, pretty much matching his clothes to yours; at this point you’re starting to wonder if he looks through your luggage before he packs his own stuff, because your outfits end up being eerily similar a lot of the time. You think he finds it reassuring, maybe, when you’re somewhere unfamiliar. Or maybe it’s because Hoseok’s fashion has influenced your own over the years. You definitely own a lot more bright clothing than you used to, not to mention the matching items you’ve both purchased together anyway.

Now that you think about it, Hoseok really has been a big influence on you, huh.

He falls asleep pretty soon after, going lax and limp as his breaths deepen and he dozes off. He always falls asleep before you do, awake one second and flat out the next; you envy his ability to drop off like that, usually taking a lot longer yourself, but you do find it good that he’s able to sleep so quickly despite his earlier fear. He always crashes at yours after you finish filming an episode when you’re home, too, otherwise he says he’s up all night with the fear- this is all part and parcel of Hoseok being your co-host and partner on the show, and honestly, you don’t mind it at all.

So you're used to this. When Hoseok makes a little noise in his sleep and starts shifting behind you, you lift his hand to your mouth and gently kiss his knuckles, running your thumb down his wrist- he settles immediately, going lax again. You'll chase away any nightmares with soft touches, shuffling around in his grip and holding him tight if you need to, before eventually drifting off yourself, safe and warm in the circle of his arms.

Even though you usually fall asleep after Hoseok, one thing you have over him is the fact you’re a morning person and find it a lot easier to get up with the sun. Despite your late night, you’re awake moments before your phone alarm starts to ring, turning it off before it can rouse Hoseok out of his sleep. When you slide out of the bed he stirs a little, instinctively reaching out for you in his sleep, and you carefully put a pillow in his arms so he can hold onto that instead; he settles down once he has the pillow hugged to his chest, and you take a moment to look at him fondly and gently kiss his forehead before you start to get ready for the day.

You’re pretty much done by the time Hoseok sits up at the sound of his own alarm, blinking blearily in your direction as you turn it off for him. He’s still holding onto the pillow as he sits up.

“Morning, honey,” you chirp. “You want coffee?”

Hoseok stares at you for a second, eyes squinting as he tries to wake up fully. “Morning,” he replies, voice hoarse from sleep, and you smile. “Please.”

When you’d first found out that Hoseok wasn’t a morning person, you’d honestly been gobsmacked. He’s just so bright and energetic that you figured he rolled out of bed like that- it just makes sense- but it actually takes him a surprisingly long time to get fully up to speed with his normal self. He’s a little slower, a little softer, draping himself over your back as you fiddle with the room's coffee machine to try and get some caffeine into him.

“We can always get some more at the airport,” you say conversationally, and Hoseok hums quietly into your hair before dropping a kiss there. “It’s a shame we don’t have time to eat at the breakfast buffet.” 

Despite his morning slowness, he’s still ready on time; he’s always punctual, is your Hoseok. You make up for missing breakfast at the hotel by purchasing tons of snacks for the flight to Pennsylvania, munching a pre-wrapped croissant as you read off your phone while Jimin dozes next to you, his head resting against the window. You’re sandwiched between him and Hoseok, who has the aisle seat- he cranes his head at your pastry and you tilt it against his lips so he can take a bite. You end up with a lapful of crumbs, but that’s okay. 

“So where are we off to next?” Hoseok asks once he’s done chewing, peering at your phone screen. Across the aisle from you, Taehyung very loudly unwraps a pain au chocolat, much to the irritation of the woman next to him. 

“We’re going to an old prison,” you say, and Hoseok meeps. “A penitentiary, to be exact.”

Taehyung shoves the pain au chocolat into his mouth whole so he has his hands free, fumbling for his phone as he starts to film how the colour drains from Hoseok’s face as you give him a brief synopsis of the prison and other places you’ll be going to while in Pennsylvania. This isn’t even for Unsolved; Taehyung just likes to have video evidence and receipts for everything, if his camera reel is anything to go by. Even though you’re vague with your descriptions- you like Hoseok’s reaction on camera to be as unscripted and natural as it can possibly be, when you finally turn up at your locations and then set up so that you can talk about it- once you’re finished, Hoseok is curled up against you, hiding his face in your neck.

“Why can’t we go somewhere nice for once?” He whines, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Budget doesn’t cover it, that’s why we have to sleep at haunted hotels. They’re cheaper.” Hoseok meeps again, and you relent, lifting your hand to cup the back of his head. “Don’t worry, I won’t abandon you,” you say, stroking his hair as you use your free hand to clumsily scroll through your phone, double checking the details of your planned trip.

“I know.” Hoseok is uncharacteristically quiet against your collarbones. Taehyung gives up filming and rips into another pain au chocolat packet, smiling guiltily at his seat neighbour when she tuts at him. “You never do.”

Despite Hoseok’s fear of a lot of things related to the show, and the fact he jumps and screams at pretty much everything, he’s never asked to bow out or avoid doing something. He even agrees to go into areas alone when the two of you try to ‘make contact’ with spirits, even though he’s obviously terrified- but each and every time before you part, you promise that you’re not going anywhere and you’ll be waiting right outside for him. You would never abandon Hoseok (even though ghosts probably aren’t real and he has nothing to worry about), and he knows that, and takes strength from it. It warms you.

He keeps his head nestled against your neck for a beat longer, and then smacks a loud kiss against your skin, which makes you squeal and slap him away while he laughs. 

--

As fun as it is to jet around the country- especially with Hoseok and the other guys- it's also exhausting, and there’s always something nice about coming home. Even though the increased budget that you’ve been allocated as the show’s been growing in popularity means that you can stay at nicer hotels now, your own bed is still the most comfortable place in the world. (Well, tied with Hoseok’s bed, thinking about it. The two are basically interchangeable at this point anyway, if you consider how often Hoseok ends up sleeping at your apartment and squirreling his way under your blankets as you’re trying to sleep.)

On the other hand, though, in spite of a return to your regular creature comforts, coming home still involves work: there are Q&As to be filmed, footage to edit, later episodes to plan, research to be done. As the original progenitor of Unsolved you take the brunt of the last two parts; Hoseok is the one who reacts to the facts you throw out, he’s not the one who investigates the different things you talk about on the show, but he’s always there to support you and talk to you whenever you need it. 

(Your audience knows Hoseok as someone who is cute and bright and cheerful, but he’s also quietly thoughtful and surprisingly serious when he has to be. That’s the side of him that you get to see whenever you stay late at the office, your desk lamp the only one left on in the room, hunched over your keyboard as you trawl through conspiracy threads in the deep bowels of the internet that are discussing who D.B. Cooper is. You love loud Hoseok, of course, but you appreciate this hushed part of him, too- the way he'll deliver you a hot chocolate with a kiss to your forehead before quietly sitting beside you and waiting for you to finish so he can take you home.)

Anyway. Coming home means coming back to the office, means putting in shifts at BigHit headquarters, etc, etc, all that jazz, so here you are, sitting on Hoseok’s lap and scrolling through your tablet as he does something of his own on his PC. The first time this had happened, it had raised eyebrows- not because it was considered inappropriate or anything, as BigHit is the kind of place where people can make out in hallways to ‘test the longevity of this 24 hour lipstick’ for a video and no one bats an eyelash, but because up until this point, you’d been renowned for pretty much being glued to your desk while working. But you like Hoseok and his energy, even when he’s not doing anything, and his lap is comfortable, even if he doesn’t exactly have the world’s thickest thighs. You work better when you’re around him. 

You’re scrolling through Instagram comments for questions to answer in this week’s Q&A episode when someone clears their throat. Both you and Hoseok look up in tandem to find Seokjin standing there, looking decidedly more grey-haired than he had the last time you’d seen him. He pulls it off effortlessly, of course. 

“What’s up, silver fox?” You let your tablet droop into your lap as Hoseok takes his hands off his mouse and keyboard and secures them around your waist instead, so you don’t slide off his legs. His hands are warm where they splay across your stomach and you can feel the bumps and texture of his bracelets through the material of your shirt. “Liking the new look, by the way.”

“You look really good, Jin-hyung,” Hoseok says from over your shoulder, and you nod in agreement.

“I know.” Jin sounds flippant but he seems pleased. He doesn’t say anything more than that, though, and just looks at the two of you expectantly. You both blink back at him.

“So… did you come over just to be complimented, or?” You slowly start to lift your tablet, acting as if you’re about to start reading off your screen again. “Were the thirsty comments on your latest video not enough for you today?”

Jin raises an eyebrow as he pretends to inspect his nails. “No, no, there were plenty of comments, as always,” he says loftily. Unsurprising, considering his unofficial(/basically official) title of Most Handsome Face in the office as well as the leagues of fans he has. He lets his hand drop as he quickly gives up pretending to be aloof. “So when are you planning to fit making pineapple pie into your schedule?”

“Oh!” Hoseok squeezes you in his excitement and you wiggle a little in his lap. “I almost forgot about that! Did Tae mention it to you?”

“Jimin too. They burst into the kitchen while I was filming and they were both holding a piece of Filipino pineapple pie aloft like they were wielding Excalibur, so, yes, you can say that it was mentioned,” Jin says, and you can’t help but wince. Being interrupted while filming is one thing, but the Tasty studio can be hazardous on top of that (y’know, what with the knives and fire and stuff), so you can only hope that Jin wasn’t using a mandolin or something when they had appeared. 

“Oof.” You wiggle your hips again and Hoseok immediately catches your drift, turning his chair so the two of you are facing Jin fully rather than having to turn your heads to look at him. Jin makes a weird expression, something you can’t put a name to, but it slips away too fast for you to catch properly- maybe he just had a sudden chill or something, who knows. “Sorry about them. How about I email you our filming schedule and you can see when you’re free as well? We were going to film a 70th episode retrospective soon and the pineapple pie video might be a nice sort of bonus on top of that.”

Jin agrees easily. You use your tablet to open the Google Calendar that you have with Hoseok, which makes Jin pause when he notices. “You share a GCal?”

“Duh?” You flick a look at Jin through your lashes. You and Hoseok have GCal where you input your work schedules to avoid potential clashes when you need to film together, but you also put in other plans the two of you have outside of work, if it’s ever necessary. “Why wouldn’t we? It makes it easier when we need to plan things for Unsolved.”

“Uh-huh.” Jin sounds sceptical, but you decide not to address it. You miss the look he gives Hoseok as you scroll through your calendar, the two men having a silent exchange as you start to draft an email. Somewhere across the office you hear Yoongi shout out an expletive and two sets of cackling laughter that sound suspiciously like Taehyung and Jungkook; you and Hoseok turn at the sound, but you don’t spot anything from where you’re sat. “Alright, I think that’s my cue to leave,” Jin says, and promptly dips before he gets dragged into whatever’s going on.

Whatever shenanigans Jungkook and Taehyung have gotten up to seem to be pinpointed to one area, so you avoid any fall out, and Hoseok eventually excuses himself to go to the toilet. You take over his chair while he’s gone. Asides from yourself, both computers at this desk are entirely abandoned- Yoongi is still absent, nowhere to be seen- and you’re tapping away at your tablet when all of a sudden you have a camera shoved in your face. 

For once it’s not Jimin or Taehyung or Jungkook, and instead when you look up you see Irene and Seulgi, the latter girl beaming at you while Irene holds the camera. Seulgi says your name and points at you with a perfectly manicured nail, and you blink at her, completely caught off guard. Irene zooms in on your bewildered expression.

“Um, hey guys,” you say. “What’s up? Need me for something?”

“We wanted to ask if you wanted to guest star in the next Ladylike video!” Seulgi chirps brightly, and you’re immediately on guard. While the offer seems innocent enough on the surface you can’t help but wonder if the next video is one of their wilder ones (you don’t care if the underwear is silver-infused and apparently wicks away smell and moisture, you flat out refuse to wear the same panties for a whole week). Fortunately your fears are assuaged when Seulgi seems to read your mind and answers your question before you have the chance to ask it. “We’re trying to recreate elaborate Instagram makeup looks with dollar store makeup.”

Irene giggles behind the camera when you visibly relax. “I’m in, that sounds fun,” you say, and both girls seem inordinately pleased. “Um, when are you planning to shoot it?”

“Tomorrow! It won’t take long, we promise,” Seulgi says. “You just need to be free for filming, we’ll do all the editing and stuff.”

You finalise the exact time you need to be available by and by the time Hoseok comes back from the toilet both girls have just gone. You stand up so that he can reclaim his seat, eyes glued to your tablet as you open up your Google Calendar so you can put the Ladylike video filming in, but you’re interrupted when Hoseok grabs you. You squeal in surprise when he tugs you back down rather than letting you sit down yourself, tablet getting sandwiched between the two of you as you end up straddling him in a desperate attempt to catch your balance- but before you can resituate yourself he starts to tickle you and you end up laughing uproariously into his face.

“Cute, cute, my Y/n is so cute,” he sing-songs, and you continue to laugh as you try to bat his hands away.

“Stop, oh my God, Hobi!” There are tears of laughter in the corners of your eyes as you squirm in his lap, trying to get away from his hands but being prevented from doing so by the desk at your back; you’re trapped between it and Hoseok, entirely at his mercy as the two of you giggle at each other.

“You realise other people work here, right?”

Yoongi has finally reappeared. He sounds disgruntled, but you put it down to the fact he has KITTY AVAILABLE FOR ADOPTION and a phone number scrawled across his face in what appears to be permanent marker, rather than at the fact that you and Hoseok are making noise. As Hoseok’s deskmate he’s used to this sort of behaviour by now.

“Hey hyung,” Hoseok says, shameless as his fingers continue to dance up and down your sides, although the touches are light enough now that you can turn your attention away from giggling to appreciate Yoongi’s new look. “Did you have a good nap?”

“A cat nap,” you say, and then giggle at the unimpressed look Yoongi throws your way- it’s hard to find him scary with the multi-coloured letters scribbled over his face.

He grunts as he sits down. “I’ll kill those kids,” he says, but there’s no real heat behind his words, and he slumps into his chair with a resigned sigh. “I kept scrubbing at my face but this shit won’t come off.”

You exchange a look with Hoseok, the two of you thinking about the hand sanitiser you keep in your handbag- the alcoholic gel would probably lift the ink off Yoongi’s face, but neither of you offer up this information. “I’m sure it’ll come off by tomorrow,” you say, and Yoongi makes a hopeful noise at the back of this throat. "Any particular reason why you've decided to act as a walking billboard for abandoned cats?"

"Thing 1 and Thing 2 said they were raising awareness for a local cat shelter and asked if I wanted to help. I said yes." Yoongi sounds rueful. 

"I feel very aware of it, hyung, so I'd say they did a good job." Hoseok laughs when Yoongi just flips him off.

Hoseok’s hands have gone still by this point. It’s not until Yoongi starts to tap at his keyboard that you remember the position you’re in, straddling Hoseok in his chair, your hands on his shoulders and his hands on your waist as you lean back against his desk- but as questionable and potentially incriminating as this entire situation seems out of context, literally no one is batting an eyelid. People are used to seeing this sort of thing from you two, both comfortable and not awkward with each other at all.

Hoseok's hands are warm and steady where they wrap around your waist. You're struck again by how large they feel- supportive, as always, when he holds you. 

"Mind letting me go, cowboy?" You say. "I should go back to my desk to get some work done."

"You're more of a cowboy in this situation," Hoseok says, wiggling his eyebrows at you. "Seeing as you're the one that's doing the riding."

"Good lord," Yoongi mutters.

You laugh at the expression on his face before Hoseok wheels you both away from the desk so that you have room to swing your legs off him. "That's dirty, Hobi," you say, but it's said with a smile and wink.

After you've disappeared, waving at the two men, Yoongi raises an eyebrow at Hoseok. "I know you two are basically married at this point, but can you try and rein in the flirting when I'm trying to work?"

"We weren't flirting," Hoseok protests. Yoongi looks unconvinced, his other eyebrow rising to match the first, and just shakes his head before he resumes Googling ways to get the permanent marker off his face.

--

Irene’s touch is light as she puts the makeup onto your face, surveying her work critically as she does. 

“Alright, that’s the foundation done,” she says, once everything seems to have passed whatever rigorous criteria she has. “So we're onto the concealer next.”

There’s something soothing about having someone else do your makeup. Not to mention that you don’t have to worry at all about the production of the video- with your usual projects, your level of investment means that there’s always something to think about, but right now all you have to do is sit there and look pretty. You do listen and react whenever Irene shows you the products and so on, but otherwise, you are literally just sitting there and letting the other woman put stuff on your face; you can relax and unwind and let her take the lead.

Irene has just finished blending the concealer under your eyes when your phone vibrates in your pocket. While she's rummaging for the next product- setting powder- you quickly check your phone to see if it's anything important. It's Hoseok, asking where you are, because he has a coffee and Danish pastry for you and he can't find you; you realise then that you never put the Ladylike video filming into your calendar, distracted by Hoseok grabbing you, and today you'd just disappeared without telling him where you were going. Oops.

You quickly shoot him a reply before Irene starts to brush the powder across your face and you're both surprised at how well it sets. "Your skin is so nice," Irene says with a smile, sweeping the brush over your cheeks. You try not to laugh when the bristles tickles your face, flattered at her comment.

She's just finished doing your brows when you hear the studio door open and you catch sight of Hoseok. He's staying off camera next to Wendy so he doesn't get in the shot, quiet and unobtrusive, but you can't help but perk up when you see him. Although you stay silent so that it doesn’t interrupt the filming, Irene notices how you brighten and pauses in her motions to look over where Hoseok is standing.

"Hi, Hoseok." Much to your surprise, despite the fact that the cameras are rolling, Irene still greets Hoseok. You thought she'd make him wait until you were done. "You're here for Y/n, I presume?"

"I have a coffee for her," Hoseok says, a little sheepish, holding up an iced macchiato and a paper bag that's got a small grease stain spreading on it, a tantalising glimpse of the deliciousness inside. "I just came to drop it off?"

"I don't deserve you, Hobi," you say, beaming, and he smiles back at you. 

Irene gestures for Hoseok to come into the frame. There’s a brief moment where you and Hoseok exchange a small, surprised look- Irene is rummaging through eyeshadow palettes and seems like she’s still going through with the video even though Hoseok is about to walk on set- but he acquiesces and steps into the shot. Irene points at the Instagram photo she has open on her iPad, which is propped on the table so she can use it for reference and zoom in if necessary. “We’re doing this look with dollar store products."

“Woah,” Hoseok says, leaning down to peer at the picture, and he sounds suitably awed. “That’s really nice. You’ve chosen one with all of Y/n’s favourite colours.”

“It’s cute, right?” You’re so excited to see the final product, even if it ends up not looking as good as what you can see on the screen, considering the cheapness of the makeup that Irene is using.

“Not as cute as you,” Hoseok says, and you blow him a kiss before looking at the iced macchiato in his hands meaningfully.

“Coffee, coffee?” You sound hopeful but Irene tuts.

“You’ll need to keep your eyes shut while I do your eyeshadow,” she says.

Before you can begin to feel disappointed, Hoseok comes to the rescue. “Don’t worry baby, I’ve got you.”

And so that’s how you end up with Hoseok holding the straw of your iced coffee up to your lips while Irene applies the different shades and shimmers to your eyelids, your eyes shut as she does so; Hoseok makes appropriate ooh-ing noises, bowled over by how she manages to blend the cheap eyeshadows before doing a cut crease- you have to keep your eyes shut the whole time, letting the concealer dry on your lids so that it doesn’t smudge, gauging how it looks based on Hoseok's reactions. 

Every so often Hoseok will make a small noise and then you’ll feel the straw press up against your lips, and you’ll take a sip of your drink while Irene is switching colours or brushes; you feel thoroughly pampered today and you’re enjoying it immensely. She’s been describing the different products and their quality to the camera throughout the whole video, but now that Hoseok’s there, he responds to what she’s saying, making her giggle with how enthusiastic he is despite not recognising all the terminology she’s using. Although your eyes are shut you can't help but smile: that's your Hoseok, always lightening the atmosphere and making people laugh.

“Alright, you can open your eyes,” Irene says after what feels like a lifetime. The liquid eyeliner has dried by the time your eyes flutter open, the stark blackness against the expertly blended eyeshadows the first thing you notice when you look at yourself in the mirror.

“Woah, Irene! This is incredible!" You turn your head from side to side, taking in how different your eyes look after the ministrations of Irene's skilled hands. "Hobi, look at those wings! I wish I could get mine that even.” You don’t often wear liquid liner and when you do it takes you eons to get them to match, making each side bigger as you try to match the other- most of the time you just give up.

“You do look incredible,” Hoseok agrees. You look away from the mirror to smile brightly at him and then take another drink of coffee when he lifts it back up to your lips; the straw makes loud slurping noises as you reach the bottom of the cup and you end up sucking up more air than liquid, much to your disappointment. He chuckles at the look on your face but then coos when you pout. 

“I’m not done just yet, you know,” Irene says, unperturbed by your interactions. You wonder how this footage is going to turn out after the edit. “We still have lips and cheeks to do.”

Despite the fact your coffee is finished, Hoseok still remains next to you and watches Irene work. She lines your lips and then paints them a pleasant nude colour, before going in with an extra touch to your contour, and blush, and highlight (you’re genuinely in awe at the selection of makeup you can apparently get for a dollar each). There are so many steps involved in the execution of this look and you wonder how long it would take you to try and do this yourself, before deciding there aren’t enough hours in the day, even if Irene makes it look easy, finishing your face with a flourish.

“Alright, done!”

You pick the mirror up to tilt your head at different angles. You catch the way the highlight shimmers on your cheekbones and cupid’s bow, the way your eyes look after they’ve been shaded with colour and glitter, the sharpness of your brows, the fullness of your lips. 

“I can’t believe this was all dollar store makeup,” you say, awestruck. “It’s so much like the photo! I look so good.”

“Irene had an already perfect canvas to work with,” Hoseok says, and you end up smiling so widely your eyes almost squeeze shut.

“Flatterer,” you say.

“You two are so cute.” Seulgi sighs wistfully from behind the cameras and Wendy muffles a quiet cough into her palm.

Irene asks for your opinions on the makeup- you, moreso on how it feels on your face, and Hoseok, if he thinks it looks close to the Instagram photo (he does, but he's clearly biased because you're involved, which he doesn't try to hide). Once the cameras have been cut and everything has been wrapped up, Irene says you can go and so you hop off your chair. Before you can get too far, though, Hoseok stops you, touching his fingers gently under your chin. 

“Let me have a proper look.”

You immediately relax and let him tip your head slowly from one side to the other, eyes scanning across your makeup, which feels a lot heavier than you’d expected, but you’re still happy with how nice it is.

“Wah, so beautiful,” Hoseok says, a small smile on his face; it’s one of his softer ones, one that doesn’t show his teeth or his dimples, but rather squeezes his eyes into crescents, his gaze warm. Still blinding but in a different way.

“Irene did a really good job, didn’t she?” You say, enthused. Hoseok pauses, but then his teeth show as the smile grows.

“Yeah, she did.”

"Maybe I should get her to give me makeup lessons so I can look prettier more often." You've never been all too great at the more refined parts of makeup- blending eyeshadow or contouring, for example- but maybe you should add it to your repertoire, you muse.

Hoseok's smile dims as he becomes oddly sombre, hand shifting to cup the bottom of your chin so your face is gently cradled in his hand. "You're gorgeous all the time, makeup or not," he says. "Makeup is fun and you do look great but please don't think you need it to be pretty."

A shy smile plays at your lips. You feel bashful but you can't hide from Hoseok's gaze when he's holding onto you like this, but it wouldn’t matter even if you did. Hoseok knows you well enough to read your moods if you attempt to hide them- but because you trust him you don’t try to. 

"Ahh, you're too sweet to me, Hoseok," you murmur. He always compliments you, but the thing with Hoseok is that he always means it, and although you should be used to it, it still catches you off guard every time. 

"You deserve it." The soft smile has returned to his face and he lets his fingers drop away from your chin to tangle with yours to lead you out of the studio. “Now come on, you still have your pastry to eat.”

“I totally forgot about that! Oh, but I’ll probably smudge my lipstick.” Your sudden excitement about food dips instantly as you realise this. “I mean, I doubt dollar store stuff has much staying power anyway, but it’ll definitely smear onto the pastry, like, immediately.”

“I’ll cut it up into small pieces for you,” Hoseok says, and you make a noise of happiness as the door to the Ladylike studio shuts behind you both.

Seulgi and Wendy and Irene all look at each other, the two of you all but forgetting that they'd been standing there and had thus witnessed that entire exchange in excruciating detail. Wendy and Seulgi both open their mouths but before they can speak Irene holds up a hand. “I know,” she says. “Trust me. I know.”

--

Around the office, Jin might be renowned for his silliness, propensity towards dad jokes and loud laughter, but on set- while he’s still very much himself- he’s a professional and takes safety in the kitchen Very Seriously.

“If you damage any of my equipment with your clumsy fingers, I will grate so much parmesan down your throat that you die of cheese asphyxiation.”

“Sounds kinky,” Hoseok laughs, but then he jumps behind you when Jin brandishes a decorative pineapple at him as if he’s about to brain the other man. 

“Babe, I’m not about to explain to your family that your final words were, and I quote, ‘sounds kinky’, especially if it was before Jin offed you via fermented dairy products,” you say, although you still shield Hoseok with your body- as if there was any chance you’d be able to stop Jin if he was on the warpath. His shoulders are so broad. Still, you’d fight him for Hoseok if you had to.

“My family love you, I think they’d be okay with it,” Hoseok says from behind you. Jin makes a weird expression with his face before he sets the pineapple back down onto the table next to the rest of your equipment, raising his eyebrows at something; before you can ask what’s up, you’re distracted by the sensation of Hoseok’s hands coming to rest on your shoulders. “It’s okay, Jin, Y/n and I cook together all the time. We won’t mess up.”

“Hobi’s really good at cooking,” you pipe up, and Hoseok affectionately nuzzles at the crown of your head. You cook dinner together at least once a week, trying to use different recipes each time- cooking is a great hobby because you get food at the end of it, and cooking with Hoseok is especially great because you get an excuse to break out the candles and fancy tablecloth your mother had gifted you, even if your food is something simple. 

(You never thought you’d learn multiple ways to fold a napkin, but Hoseok is always so excited whenever he sees you start to crimp them into shape, so you like to mix things up for him.)

Jin’s face shifts back into that look that you’re starting to think looks like he’s eaten something that he’s not sure if he likes or not- a little disbelieving, perplexed, resigned. You never get a chance to ask why, though: Jin claps his hands and tells you to put on your aprons so you can start filming, and you eagerly pull it over your head before helping Hoseok tie his behind his back. (Jin makes the face again, but you’re too busy tying a cute bow to notice.)

Jin seems genuinely impressed when it turns out that the two of you have been telling the truth. Of course, the Tasty team member is directing you and giving instructions so it’s not as difficult as it might be otherwise, but he ends up surprisingly uninvolved with the physical part of the process; you and Hoseok hand jobs off to each other and work in tandem to prepare the dough and filling, and once the pie is in the oven you even begin to clean everything up unprompted, moving around each other with an unconscious level of ease. 

Jin just ends up sitting on a stool and watching you do his ‘minion work’ although you think he just doesn’t want to get in the way. Hoseok hipchecks you gently and then giggles when you pretend to be pushed back by the strength of the motion and flop dramatically over the sink.

“How often do you two cook together?” Although the question is technically directed at the both of you, for some reason you get the feeling that Jin is aiming this more towards Hoseok, who answers him.

“Usually two or three times a week,” Hoseok says.

“Hmm. I see.” Jin looks thoughtful, and you can’t help but feel like there’s something you’re missing in this simple question and answer exchange. Hoseok has an expression on his face that you’ve never seen before- which you’d thought was impossible, because you know Hoseok inside and out, and it’s confusing. You feel surprisingly unsettled by it.

Your best friend seems like he’s trying to cut whatever tension’s in the air by turning his attention back to tidying up, but he fumbles when he goes to shut a drawer and catches his fingers. He’s barely had time to make a small ow noise before you’re there, lifting his hand and inspecting it carefully. “Stop distracting my boy, Jin, let him focus on cleaning up your messy ass kitchen,” you say.

“Excuse you, my kitchen is a temple, it’s only a mess because you’ve been in here,” Jin says primly.

“Sounds like something a messy person would say.” You would roll your eyes but they’re focused on the reddened skin of Hoseok’s fingers. They just look slightly pinched, nothing major, but still. You’re careful when you touch him. You don’t want him to hurt any further. “Are you okay, baby?”

“No.” He sniffles and his lip wobbles dramatically and you laugh. You do what you always do when Hoseok hurts himself in some small, superficial way- you lift his hand to your lips and gently kiss the fingers he’d gotten caught, inflamed skin already fading back to its usual colour, pain clearly already gone. 

“There,” you declare. “All better.”

Hoseok’s expression is warm and tender as he looks at you, his fingers still cradled in yours as you look up from your touching hands, and your gazes lock. There’s a brief moment of stillness, a second that starts to crystallise into something more, and you’d swear his face had just started inching forwards when there’s suddenly an almighty clattering noise from behind you and you both jump, the moment broken.

“Oops,” Jin says blithely. You turn around to discover that all the pineapple related knick-knacks and decor on the table are now scattered on the floor around him, a tangle of paper decorations and plastic fruit that’s rolling across the room. “I seem to have slipped.”

“Weren’t you just going on about how messy we were?” You raise an eyebrow at him, but you’ve already turned away from Hoseok to squat down and help Jin tidy up, chasing down an errant pineapple. You don’t see the pointed look that Jin gives Hoseok behind your back, and when you turn around with the over-large pineapple clutched in your arms, both men seem to be acting like normal. “I’m going to pay Namjoon to keep that in the final cut so everyone can see how chaotic you are in the kitchen.”

“Joonie would never betray me like that,” Jin says with completely unearned confidence, just like he does with most things- but the sad thing is, he’s right. Namjoon is too much of a professional to keep unnecessary shots in the video, and besides, Jin seems able to get away with being outrageously chaotic because he’s so charming and pulls it off so well. If the footage of him somehow sending everything to the floor was kept in the video, people would probably love it.

Once the pie is done cooking and has finally cooled enough for Jin to cut it into triangular shapes, you’re so excited to eat it that you’re bouncing up and down on the spot a little. Hoseok is too. Jin humours your excitement with understanding- he loves to eat too- although he raises his eyebrows at the way you and Hoseok lock your arms together before you lean forward to take a bite of the pineapple pie. You let out a muffled little groan into the pastry once it finally touches your tongue, sweet tartness of the pineapple exploding across your tastebuds, pastry buttery and flakey as it melts in your mouth.

“Jin, this is so good,” you say, and Hoseok hums around a mouthful of fruit filling in agreement.

“I think your ghost was onto something,” Jin says. He’s already polished off his slice, while you and Hoseok are barely halfway through your own, disentangling your arms so you can focus on eating properly. Sometimes you wonder if Jin just unhinges his jaw and swallows things whole because you’ve never seen someone who can eat as quickly as he can. “They could see you pining.”

Your face twists in confusion. “What?”

“You know… pining… like a pineapple,” Jin says, before giggling to himself like he’s just told the world’s funniest joke. You raise your eyebrows at Hoseok, but then you take another bite of the pie and immediately forget about Jin’s cryptic nonsense.

“This is so good, isn’t it, Hobi?” You ask.

“It’s so sweet and light and delicious,” Hoseok says. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“I thought we were talking about the pie, not me, Hoseok,” Jin says, and then lets out peals of squeaky laughter when you roll your eyes.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I think you can get a cream for that,” Jin continues to laugh, before you throw a paper pineapple at him.

--

There’s still pie left over the next day. Of course, you’ve saved slices for the rest of your crew. Jimin and Taehyung are snacking on slices of pie as they help each other set up the cameras and mics in the studio, making sure the lighting hits you and Hoseok so that you stand out against the room behind you. Today’s the day you’ve set aside to film the 70th episode, and you’re excited for the chance to do an official retrospective of the show so that you can look back at all the places you’ve been to and the things you’ve discussed, as well as plans for the future.

“Did the two of you coordinate your outfits for the video?” Tae says curiously, and you glance down at your clothes. It’s only then you realise that- although your outfit is darker than his- there are flowers on Hoseok’s bomber jacket and your dress is covered in a floral pattern.

“Huh, I didn’t even notice,” you mutter as you pluck at your dress.  “Guess we’re just telepathic.”

Hoseok stays silent, strangely enough, but when you hold your hand up for a high five he responds enthusiastically and continues to grip your hand afterwards, which makes you laugh. “That’s friendship,” he says, and you laugh again, squeezing his hand.

The two of you keep laughing as the cameras start to roll, watching the clips from your most popular episodes so far, between answering commonly asked questions from fans- one of the more frequently asked being ‘why did Hoseok agree to be a co-host when he always seems scared during filming and screams all the time?’

You read this question off your list and Hoseok’s answer is immediate. “Y/n is one of the hardest workers I know,” he says. “So I was excited to be invited on board for a show that she had created. And I wouldn’t say that I’m always screaming-”

“Yeah, when you have to pause to breathe,” you interject, and he laughs.

“Sure,” he says indulgently. “But, honestly, when Y/n is there it’s easy to forget that we’re standing in some terrifying old building or haunted tomb or whatever.” You rest your chin on your hand as you watch him continue to speak. “I would honestly be a lot more scared if she wasn’t there. She’s very good at distracting me if I’m getting too worried. She’s very comforting.”

“That’s a nice way of saying that I’m basically a defence mechanism for you.”

“Basically.” Hoseok grins at you so widely, teeth on show, gorgeous. 

Now that he mentions it, it’s true that as your friendship has grown, his fear has ebbed; although he still screams as loudly as before, it happens less often, but because sudden noises and jump scares always startle him, it still happens a lot. If you don’t take the time to reflect it’s kind of easy to forget how your friendship has grown over time, which is why it’s another good reason to have this retrospective- for the sake of the series, sure, but your relationship with Hoseok has grown as the show has, too.

When you flip over the final page to read the final question, you’re surprised to see an extra one tacked onto the end- you’d been the one to select them, after all, and this one has been added after the fact, someone’s messy handwriting scratched across the paper. You don’t recognise the writing. Honestly it kind of looks like someone had written it with their non-dominant hand to avoid detection, almost like a child’s writing from a cartoon, all but missing the backward E’s- but the question is pretty innocuous, so you figure you may as well answer it. You can just ask Namjoon to cut the footage later if you don’t like it.

“Y/n: If Hoseok decided to quit being your co-host, who would you want to replace him?” You squint at the paper as you decipher the scrawl, not seeing how Jimin and Taehyung exchange a sly, down-low high five off camera. “Huh.”

“You started the series with Yoongi, right?” Hoseok pipes up. “Would you bring him back?”

You’d chosen Yoongi as your original co-host for Unsolved because you vibed well and had pretty similar opinions when it came to a lot of things, and you’d worked well together in the past, but the truth is that- “No, I wouldn’t,” you say immediately. Hoseok seems genuinely surprised. “Honestly, if you stopped co-hosting with me, that would be the end of Unsolved. Hoseok and I are a package deal at this point and I would never consider filming the show without him.”

Hoseok looks stunned, but you keep going. “The show wouldn’t exist without Hoseok. Yoongi was great for the videos he was in, but- even if he didn’t have other commitments, he couldn’t take over from Hobi. Unsolved isn’t just a show about the supernatural, or crimes, it’s about us dealing with the supernatural or true crimes,” you continue, and then your nose wrinkles as you realise what you’ve said. “Well, we don’t directly deal with true crimes, fortunately. I’d make a terrible detective. My hand isn’t steady enough to draw one of those chalk outlines, y’know? I’d probably just end up drawing someone who looked suspiciously like Kirby. Anyway, Hoseok is my best friend as well as my co-host; if you get one of us, you get both of us, and if you don’t get both of us, you get neither of us.”

“I love you, Y/n,” Hoseok says. It’s not the first time he’s said this to you, but you think it’s the first time he’s ever said it on camera, and his tone is strangely earnest. He must be getting really nostalgic about the start of the show if it’s making him sound like that.

“Love you too, Hobi.” You beam at him. “I’m really glad we became friends.”

Behind the cameras, Taehyung makes a weird croaking sound and Jimin hits him hard on the arm.

“Uh, normally when someone's choking you hit them on the back, Minnie,” you say.

“I’m not choking, I’m fine,” Taehyung wheezes. Jimin punches him again.

“Uh-huh.” You raise an eyebrow. “Anyway. What was I saying. Oh! Yeah, referring back to the question- while I would never stop him if he thought it was the right thing to do, I certainly hope that Hobi doesn’t want to quit being a co-host.”

“I would never.” Hoseok’s expression is weirdly intense as he says this and you can’t help but laugh.

“Good! I’m glad we’re both in it for the long haul.”

Taehyung still looks kind of constipated once filming is over, but before you can ask him what’s up, Jimin pulls him to the corner of the room and the two men exchange some quiet words. They seem oddly serious and you purse your lips as you try to work out what’s going on, but then Hoseok’s hand slips into yours and your attention is drawn away from them.

“Celebratory 70th episode filming dinner?”

“I thought we were going to have a celebratory dinner with our minions when the episode actually aired,” you say, tilting your head at Taehyung and Jimin. “Didn’t you put it in the GCal?”

“I meant just you and me,” Hoseok says, squeezing your hand gently. “A co-host only dinner.”

“Ooh, we’re in an exclusive club, are we?” You giggle and squeeze his hand back. “Sure, why not. Can we have pizza? I’m feeling like pizza.”

“You can have anything you want, baby,” Hoseok answers, affection written across all his features. You go all wobbly inside, your insides melting into a puddle of goo at how warm and tender he is. You love your best friend so much. “Let’s leave those two to it, it seems like they’re busy.”

You look back over at your cameramen. Jimin has his cheeks puffed out and Taehyung looks chagrined. You purse your lips again, a little unsure if you should leave them if they’re having some sort of disagreement, but then Hoseok slips his hand out of yours and crouches down in a way that you recognise instantly. You make a noise of happiness and leap up, letting him lift you into a piggyback; you lock your arms around his neck and start to giggle as he bounces you a little, getting his hands comfortable under your calves.

“We’re off!” Hoseok announces. Jimin and Taehyung look away from their discussion to the two of you, their expressions both mirrors of each other as their eyebrows rise in unison when they spot how Hoseok is carrying you. “We’ll leave you to tidy the studio.”

“Enjoy the rest of the pie!” You wiggle your fingers at them in a little wave before squealing when Hoseok hitches you up his back again without warning, tightening your grip on him. “Pizza time, Hobi, let’s go.”

“Your wish is my command, princess,” Hoseok says, waggling his eyebrows in a way that makes you laugh before you bury your head in his hair, stifling your giggles against his scalp. He smells so nice and soft and lovely, familiar, like home.

“Wow, they’re unbelievable,” Jimin whispers behind you, though you don’t hear him, more focused on not bumping your head in the doorway as Hoseok walks you both out of the studio. 

You end up going to your favourite pizzeria, sitting at your usual booth in the corner. You’ve been here so many times with Hoseok that you don’t need to look at the menu and just order your usual half-and-half, feeding each other slices of garlic bread and struggling with the gooey, molten cheese that seems to stretch endlessly from your slices of pizza. You feel warm and comfortable, your feet brushing under the small table whenever you shift your legs, laughing each time Hoseok traps your foot under his before letting you go.

“I can’t believe we’ve done 70 episodes,” you say, leaning back against the smooth leather of the booth seat after you’ve stolen a sip of Hoseok’s Sprite. “I never thought we’d get this far. I honestly thought you’d have died of fright by now,” you tease, swinging your leg gently against his.

“If I die, I’ll haunt you from beyond the grave,” Hoseok says, pulling a face at you that’s clearly meant to be ghoulish, and you laugh.

“I’ll take the spirit box home from work so you can talk to me.” You lean your elbow on the table and rest your chin on your palm, still smiling. “Obviously you’d do the same for me, right?”

“As long as you kept other ghosts away from it,” Hoseok says, shivering. “I don’t want to have to talk to them too.”

“I promise. I’ll be the only thing haunting you, don’t worry.”

Hoseok smiles at you, eyes warm. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

You share a banana split for dessert. You’re pretty full so Hoseok eats the majority of it, which gives you the opportunity to watch him, the way his dimples appear when he chews; you must have watched him eat a thousand times but you’re never any less endeared by the sight.

“I meant what I said, you know,” you say suddenly, and Hoseok looks up, cheeks bulging with ice cream and banana.

“Hmrh?” He makes a noise of questioning around his mouthful of food, and you laugh when you spot a smear of chocolate sauce on his chin. You swipe it away with your thumb before mindlessly sucking it off, too distracted by the sweetness bursting across your tongue to notice how Hoseok stares at the motion with wide eyes. He swallows. “What?”

“When I said that I was glad that we became friends,” you say. “When I first asked you to star in an episode I never thought we’d end up here, you know? But… I’m really happy. And I really do love you a lot, Hoseok.”

Hoseok smiles all the time. In fact, you’d say he spends more time smiling than he doesn’t, happiness always radiating from his face like sunlight shining down from the sky, golden and bright- but the smile he gives you right now is softer than that. It’s more like the softness of the sunrise, spilling over you through just-opened curtains, warm and gentle and comforting.

“I love you too, Y/n,” he says. “More than anything.”

You put a hand over your face as you giggle bashfully at the earnest look on his face. “Stop,” you whine. “You’re so cheesy, oh my God.”

“You said it first,” Hoseok points out, but he starts to laugh along with you, before the server comes over to give you your bill and you end up fighting over who pays- Hoseok wins, much to your disappointment, but lets you front the tip as a compromise.

As always he catches the subway with you and holds your hand all the way home, only letting go when you get to the door of your apartment building. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he says, and you glance up from where you’ve been rummaging in your bag for your keys.

“Bright and early as always,” you reply, smiling. “I’ll make sure to bring your casserole dish back tomorrow, it’s still on my counter. I’ll make you some lunch to make up for how long I’ve kept it.”

“Okay.” Hoseok watches as you finally unearth your keys, jingling them triumphantly as you do. “Baby?”

“Hm?” You look up from where you’ve been fitting the keys into the lock. “Yes?”

“I meant it when I said it, too.” He looks oddly sombre, none of the usual levity on his face. “I love you more than anything, Y/n.”

Your heart seizes in your chest, stuttering a little at his tone and his expression. He’s told you that he loves you, sure, and you always say it back, but Hoseok’s never said it like this: like there’s more meaning behind his words than normal. You’re staring at him with wide eyes, frozen in place, key still pressed into the lock- but before you can gather your thoughts Hoseok’s face is morphing into his usual smile before he dips forwards and kisses you on the forehead.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow! Don’t forget the casserole dish!” 

And then he’s bouncing down the steps just like he always does, turning momentarily to give you a jaunty wave before walking briskly back in the direction of the subway.

“See you tomorrow,” you echo faintly, feeling off kilter and off balance as you watch him disappear into the distance.

--

Okay. So. You’ve told yourself on multiple occasions that, nowadays, what you feel for Hoseok is entirely platonic. He’s your best friend, and you love him, and it’s very easy to feel romantically inclined towards your friends sometimes because friendship involves love, and you should be friends with your romantic partners anyway, so there’s a lot of overlap. You may have lingering memories of your crush, yes, but you’re over it. 

At least, you could have sworn you were. So why are you projecting onto Hoseok again all of a sudden? When he said he loved you, it wasn’t a romantic confession, despite what your instincts might be telling you. Your brain is screaming at you to look at it logically, and you’re trying your best to tell yourself that, that it Wasn’t Romantic and it was Just Hoseok Being Hoseok, the man who tells all his friends that he loves them on a regular basis, it wasn’t romantic.

“Morning, baby,” Hoseok says, smiling at you, before noticing both the coffees you’re holding. “Ooh, is one of those for me?”

“Hi.” Your voice is weirdly breathless. “Yeah, I got your favourite.”

Hoseok lights up and makes grabby hands at you, and you feel utterly helpless as you hand it over. You feel like Past-Y/n, a previous version of yourself, the one that was still new to BigHit and used to get all in a muddle when Hoseok so much as looked at you. You feel like you’re rediscovering your crush all over again, like some sort of giddy schoolgirl, and you kind of want to slap yourself- but then Hoseok takes a sip of his coffee and makes a little noise of pleasure and all that self-hatred turns to static, replaced with nothing but affection for the man holding the door open for you.

You manage to keep it together pretty well, for the most part, you think. It’s not until you leave your computer to speak to Hoseok about something that you nearly lose it. He sees you coming and smiles widely, instinctively wheeling away his desk and patting his lap in invitation. Your brain goes blank as you panic and you abruptly swerve and act like you were walking over to Jungkook the whole time, missing the way Hoseok’s face drops with disappointment.

You’ve been lurking to one side of Jungkook’s desk for a few minutes before the man acknowledges you, looking away from the video he’s apparently editing to raise an eyebrow at you. 

“Are you lost? Hobi-hyung is over there.” Jungkook starts to point but then you grab his hand before anyone notices, pushing it back down against his desk.

“I know where Hobi is,” you say through gritted teeth. Jungkook blinks at you as you continue to trap his hand against his desk, tightening your grip when his fingers twitch. “I am having a small crisis and I would appreciate it if you let me pretend to have a conversation with you about work.”

Jungkook looks baffled but doesn’t argue, clearly a little scared of how tightly you’re grasping his fingers. “Um, okay,” he says, slowly. “Do you need to hold my hand at the same time?”

You look down at where your hands are still connected before you release him. He flexes his fingers with a wince. “Wow, you’re a lot stronger than you look.” He sounds impressed. “Have you been working out?”

“I bench press the weight of my stupidity daily,” you sigh. Jungkook lets your words pass without comment, putting his free hand back onto his mouse and resuming his work. You squint at his screen, intrigued. “What are you working on?”

You end up perching on Jungkook’s desk as he talks you through his most recent project, and how he and Tae have almost finished putting together the cat shelter video- you coo at all the footage of the different cats, small kittens to mangy strays, scruffy and cute. You’re too busy laughing at the unflattering shots they have of Yoongi while he’d been sleeping before they’d written across his face and you don’t notice how Hoseok keeps looking over with a mix of confusion and almost hurt flashing across his features. 

He doesn't show any of this when you meet him later, though. You’ve recomposed yourself by the time lunch rolls around and you manage to return Hoseok’s casserole dish without fumbling. Despite your inner turmoil last night you’d still made time to pack lunch for the two of you, using the cute lunchboxes that Hoseok’s family had given you last Christmas- he lights up when he sees the dosirak you’ve packed, fluffy rice and other side dishes, all of his favourites.

“You are a blessing,” he says, and you smile as he eagerly dives in. You tackle your own food more slowly, having to approach the kimbap carefully because of how you’d been overzealous with the filling. “Ooh, can I have some of that?”

“Sure,” you say, gesturing at the bite sized slices in the tub in front of you. Instead of taking one of those, however, Hoseok leans forward for the piece of kimbap you’ve already grabbed. You’re frozen in place as you feel his lips around your fingers, teeth lightly grazing your skin as you instinctively surrender the food to his mouth, a light swipe of his tongue over your fingertips to catch the light sheen of sesame oil there, soft and wet against your touch. 

Hoseok leans back and chews like nothing is out of the ordinary- and to be fair, you’ve fed finger foods to him before, it’s not out of the ordinary, but right now you feel like you’re on the verge of a meltdown. Your brain keeps replaying the past few seconds, the softness of his lips around your fingers, the wet of his tongue against them, the way his eyelashes had fanned out against his cheek as he’d glanced down at the food in your hand. You are Very Much Not Okay.

Hoseok is still happily chewing his kimbap, swallowing it down and taking a sip of water before he seems to notice that you’ve gone eerily silent. “Y/n?” He blinks at you. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” you say. “Um. I just remembered that I. Have a thing? I have to? Go do? You can eat the rest, seeyoulaterBYE.”

You can’t let this crush rear its head like this again and make your friendship awkward. The two of you have shared the same bed more times than you can count, for God’s sake, and you’ve even discussed rooming together- the rent in LA isn’t exactly cheap, and if you pooled your resources you could get a pretty nice place- and that had all been okay! That hadn’t made you feel strange at all! But Hoseok eats food from your hand like he has a thousand times and you’re spiralling out of control like this? Why is this happening now?

Ugh. Ughughughugh. Stupid.

Namjoon finds you hidden away in the Unsolved studio later, where you’ve absconded with your tablet to try your best to get some work done with your limited resources, hidden away from everyone; it’s weird being in here when you’re not filming, without Hoseok in the seat next to you, so you’re not really doing a great job. (You’ve spent more time blankly watching Queer Eye on Netflix than you have being productive.)

“Hey, Y/n.” Namjoon’s gentle voice is like a balm to your soul. Hoseok might be your best friend now, but Namjoon was your friend first and the two of you are still close, both in and out of work. He’d made you feel comfortable and welcome when you’d first joined the team and continues to support all your projects. He’s a really great friend and colleague and an even better person.

You smile at him as he shuts the door. You can tell he’s trying to do it quietly but ends up accidentally slamming it loudly, and you stifle a laugh as you notice the guilt that appears on his face.

“Joonie! Come on in.” You beckon at the seat next to you, scooting away a little so he plenty of room to sit. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just wanted to talk to you about some editing stuff but Hobi said you’d disappeared somewhere for a, um, ‘thing’.” Namjoon doesn’t comment on the fact that you still clearly have Queer Eye open on your tablet, Jonathan’s face a blur on the screen from where you’ve paused it during a transitional shot. Instead he sits carefully down next to you and leans back in the chair, adjusting his glasses; he looks particularly cozy today, with his glasses and jumper and cardigan. He pulls off the Hot Academic look really well. “Any particular reason why you’ve squirreled yourself away here?”

You muffle a sigh, looking down at the notebook you have next to your tablet; what little handwriting is on the page is especially messy and disjointed, reflecting your distracted mind. Namjoon has a naturally reassuring presence anyway but his outfit today seems to accentuate that even further, like you could bury your head into the fuzziness of his jumper and find inner peace.

“Oh, okay, I suppose this is happening,” he says.

Yep, the jumper is just as soft as you’d thought, and it smells nice and soft too. Namjoon doesn’t seem bothered that you’ve smooshed your face into his shoulder and instead he angles himself so you’re both more comfortable, and he starts to pat your back soothingly. It’s nice, of course, but you can’t help but compare his touch to Hoseok’s- Namjoon is more methodical and measured, like he’s thinking about each motion, while Hoseok just seems smoother and more natural because he’s always touching you, second nature by now. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Ughughughughguhguh,” you say articulately into the weave of Namjoon’s clothing. He chuckles warmly.

“Long day?”

Good old Namjoon. A gentle question, open ended, offering you the opportunity to deflect, or tell him the truth. You turn your head to avoid getting jumper lint in your mouth, but stay leaned against him.

“Kind of,” you say. “It’s just…” You struggle to put it into words, but Namjoon just waits patiently while he continues to pat your back. “It’s Hobi?”

Namjoon’s hand goes still, though you’re not sure if it’s because of your words themselves or the tone of them, the way you pitched it up at the end like a question, like you weren’t too sure yourself. “Did he do something?”

“No! No. Yes? No,” you settle on. “No, no he didn’t. It’s not him, it’s me,” you say. “Ugh.”

You end up pulling away from Namjoon to scrub tiredly at your face, not noticing his expression, which he quickly reschools when you look back at him. “We were just doing our usual thing, you know,” you say, and Namjoon nods as he listens, even though your description is incredibly vague and could mean any number of things. “But then he said he loved me and like- we’re best friends, we say we love each other a lot, it’s not unusual or anything, but… I guess it got to me this time? Like it felt like something more than just friendship? He didn’t mean it like that, of course, but I guess it’s hard to, uh, shake that feeling now that it’s gotten into my head.”

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” Although Namjoon seems a little perplexed he’s still clearly concerned, and your eyes widen.

“What? No, no, it’s fine! I don’t mind it. It’s more that-” You pause. You’ve never actually voiced your less-than-platonic feelings for Hoseok out loud, though you’re certain it must have been obvious to start with- even though no one had ever mentioned it or teased you about it, so maybe they hadn't noticed. 

Either way, it sort of feels like once you put the words out into the world then the truth will linger and be unavoidable in a way that you’ve been desperately avoiding so far. But it’s just you, and Namjoon, and you would trust Namjoon with your life, even if you wouldn’t trust him to hold anything fragile or delicate. “It’s not the idea of Hoseok loving me like that that makes me uncomfortable. I just don’t want things to be weird?” Namjoon continues to look levelly at you, waiting patiently for you to get to the point, and you take in a deep breath. “IhaveacrushonHobi,” you rush out. “And I don’t want to ruin the friendship by reading into things too much because I’m being overly hopeful or something.”

Namjoon pauses. He looks thoughtful as he fixes his gaze on you through his glasses. “Y/n.” He sounds solemn, like he’s discussing something of deep importance, like your tiny breakdown over your best friend requires the same level of gravity as the rapid disappearance of bees, or climate change- like it’s something world changing and heavy and important. He’s not doing what you’ve done over the years, as in, desperately tried to minimise your feelings just so you can stay sane. “You sound unhappy about it.”

“I am unhappy about it,” you say, unhappy. “Hobi is my best friend and I do love him a lot, and I’m happy being friends, and I reallyreallyreally don’t want to make things weird. I should be used to this by now, it’s not like what he and I do is anything I’m not used to.”

“Things change when romantic feelings develop,” Namjoon says, ever patient, and you let out a pained little groan.

“It’s not- these feelings aren’t new, Namjoon.” You sigh, and for the first time since you started this conversation, Namjoon looks surprised. Guess your crush on Hoseok hadn’t been obvious in the beginning, then. “I don’t know if I ever told you that I met Hoseok before I even got a job here, technically?”

You’d come out of your BigHit interview feeling unsure. Off balance. You hadn’t known if you’d come across as desperate and too eager to please, rather than a go-getter team player, but all you’d been able to think about was how getting a job at BigHit would mean that you could finally save up enough to move out of the awful shared room you were in with the mould in the corner that kept coming back no matter how many times you cleaned it. The interview had gone on longer than you thought and you barely had time to get to Starbucks before your shift started- if you got a job at BigHit you could finally quit that place- and you’d hurried to leave the building only to discover that it was raining.

“Oh,” you’d said. 

You’d stood in the reception area, staring out of the glass windows at the torrential downpour outside; it had been sunny earlier that day, no indication that the heavens were going to open, and you hadn’t brought a coat or umbrella with you. Your one nice interview outfit was going to get drenched, and it was going to stay wet in your locker at Starbucks while you were working, and basically the entire month had been just terrible and after a potentially wasted interview you just kind of wanted to cry.

Before the tears could start to pool in your eyes, however, Hoseok had appeared. Not that you’d known him or his name at the time, of course, but he’d swept into the building like some burst of sunlight that had cut through the clouds despite the rain, shaking an umbrella off before laughing at Yoongi’s disgruntled face at the scattering water. You’d been stunned by the sudden flare of energy in the room and were still standing there when Hoseok’s eyes fell on you, on your stance, the way you were staring at the grey skies outside and the obvious lack of an umbrella in your hands.

And he’d just- he’d just walked up to you like you were friends, like he knew you, and he’d proffered the still damp umbrella, like it was nothing.

“It’s raining pretty heavily out there,” he’d said, and he’d been smiling, and you’d looked at him in shock, and he’d laughed. “You’ll need this.”

“I- what?”

“You clearly need this more than me,” Hoseok had said, bright smile fading into something a little more gentle, and you’d accepted the umbrella with unsteady hands, unable to say no to this sunshine of a man. “Feel free to give it back whenever.”

“I- I don’t work here,” you’d admitted, shamefaced. “I’m just here for an interview.”

“So you can give it back to me once you get the job.” Hoseok had said it like it was a done deal, like there weren’t other people vying for the position you’d applied for, people who were probably infinitely more qualified and better in interviews. “Okay?”

For the first time that month, you’d felt like someone believed in you- because you certainly didn’t believe in yourself. But Hoseok had been smiling at you, with his heart shaped mouth and his bright eyes, and you’d felt like a flower basking in his rays, turning towards him as your petals unfurled in his light, and you’d said- “Sure. Yes. I will.”

Here, now, in the present, you look down at your hands as you finish telling this story. “I just put the umbrella on his desk when he wasn’t around, after I got the job,” you tell Namjoon. “I didn’t talk to Hobi for ages because I didn’t- I didn’t have the strength to look him in the face without, you know. Without making it obvious that I had a raging schoolgirl crush on him. And he never said anything about it- I don't think he even remembered me at all, he'd just given some person his umbrella because they needed it, you know? And then we became friends and my crush died down and everything was okay, but- I guess the crush never really went away after all. Ugh,” you say. “This sucks, Joon. It sucks.”

The way Namjoon looks at you is compassionate and soft. “I know,” he says. “It’s understandable that you’re worried about this, because your friendship with Hoseok is important to you. But I don’t think you have anything to be concerned about, really.”

“You’re just saying that,” you mumble, and Namjoon chuckles.

“No, I’m not,” he says, gently. “I think you need to be more confident in what you and Hoseok have. Even if you admitted your feelings and he didn’t feel the same, you know he loves you too much to throw your friendship away, and it’s strong enough that it can survive whatever’s thrown at it. But, if you’ll forgive me for speaking out of turn, I would wager you’re not the only one with romantic feelings, Y/n.”

“You’re very sweet, Joonie, but I really don’t think that’s the case.” You let out a little self-pitying sigh. “Hobi’s just so lovely to everyone, it probably seems like that because we’re best friends.”

One of Namjoon’s eyebrows rises. “Is that what you really think?”

“Yes,” you say, a little miserable, looking down as you pick at a loose thread in one of your sleeves. “People mistake us as a couple a lot because we’re so close, you know? But Hoseok doesn’t see me like that.”

“Mm.” Namjoon makes a little noise of understanding, giving you a considering look as you continue to unravel your sleeve. “I see.”

He eventually coaxes you out of the studio, and when he discovers that you never finished your lunch he brings you to the café around the corner that all the BigHit employees love; you pick up an iced coffee for Hoseok, just the way he likes it. You feel better after talking to Namjoon and by the time you leave the café you feel pretty much back to normal. Mostly relaxed. You don’t feel weird when Hoseok lights up when he sees you, because he always does, because you’re his best friend, and this is normal. You can be normal.

“Again? It was my turn to get you coffee,” Hoseok says with a pout and you laugh.

“Don’t worry about it.” When you hand Hoseok his drink and your fingers brush, it’s okay. It’s okay. Your friendship with Hoseok is more important than your other feelings for him, and you’ll just focus on that. You’re not sure that’s what Namjoon was trying to communicate to you, with all his listening and gentle words, but you can bottle up these emotions and keep them on lockdown until the weird feeling passes. It’ll work. You’ll be fine.

A few hours later, you realise that you’re not fine.

“Joonie!” You pounce on Namjoon when you find him alone in the break room, filling a glass at the tap. He jumps and sends water sloshing over his hands when he drops his cup, though it fortunately doesn’t break when it clatters into the sink. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“I’m not going to point out that you snuck up on me from behind without making any noise, but, that’s okay,” Namjoon says, ever tolerant. He very carefully puts the glass upright in the middle of the sink before he turns around. “What’s up?”

“I, um, am maybe panicking a little bit,” you admit in a hushed voice, even though there’s no one else in the tiny kitchen with you. “So you know Unsolved has a bigger budget now that we’re more popular? And I’ve been pushing for us to go abroad somewhere on said bigger budget? And they said we could schedule some episodes for Britain because basically every other building in Britain is haunted?”

“Yes, I am aware,” Namjoon says. “I did help you to draft the emails that you sent management.”

“You did, and I’m still eternally grateful,” you say, truthfully. “But I’ve been so caught up in the 70th episode retrospective and my much more recent, uh, Hoseok related stuff, that I totally forgot how soon it was coming up and we fly to London next week?”

Namjoon blinks at you. “You have plenty of time to pack before next week, why are you panicking?”

You muffle a scream into your hands while Namjoon looks on with concern. 

“It’s not packing I’m worried about, Joon,” you say once you’ve pulled your face out of your palms. “It’s just that when we’re abroad I’m not going to be able to get away from Hoseok and I’m worried that I’m going to erupt like a volcano and spew all my emotions over him and then I’m going to have to change my name and drop off the grid forever when he inevitably rejects me, and I was always terrible at camping. I could never get the fire to light.”

Namjoon, for all that his patience seems endless and eternal, gives you a look that borders on weary. Like he’s the father to a child who keeps eating glue even after being told that there’s no nutritional value in it and they should be using it for macaroni art anyway, and also why are they eating the glue when it’d make more sense to eat the pasta that’s right there, even if it’s uncooked? 

“First of all, you can be off the grid and still have access to ways of heating that don’t require fire,” he says. “And second of all, why are you panicking so much about London?”

“Because Hobi always gets super clingy when we fly anywhere.” You shuffle from foot to foot, feeling awkward. “And that’s when we’re still in the US. I feel like if we’re in a different country it’ll be compounded? Even if I don’t say anything out loud, I feel like my feelings will be obvious just in the way I act?”

Namjoon pauses before he grips your shoulders. His palms feel so big and warm, a steadying presence. “Would that be so terrible? Think about it, Y/n. If that was the case, then it gives Hobi the opportunity to speak out if he notices. If your friendship is entirely platonic to him, then he won’t notice, right? You’ll be okay.”

You open your mouth to take in a breath and respond, but before you can say anything Seokjin comes sauntering into the cramped break area, entirely indifferent to the weird atmosphere he’s walked into. His eyebrows raise as he spots how you and Namjoon are standing. “Ooh, are we gossiping? Is there tea to be spilled? You both look very serious, let me in on it.”

“I was just asking Namjoon if there was any advice he could give me about travelling to Britain,” you lie.

“She didn’t realise that over there lemonade is like soda.” Namjoon lets his hands drop from your shoulders as he plays along with ruse, and your face twists up in confusion.

“It’s what?” You look at him for a second before realising that Jin is staring at you, and you pretend to laugh. “Ohh, yeah, haha! Yeah, that’s crazy, haha. Um, I should get back to my desk for my notebook, I should write this down before I forget,” you say, before scuttling out of the break room.

Once you’ve disappeared, Seokjin gives Namjoon a long look. “I can’t believe you haven’t broken yet,” he says. “I still personally think we should just lock them both in a room together until one of them confesses, but apparently that’s ‘inappropriate workplace behaviour’.” The air quotes he makes are exaggerated and theatrical, as if the entire thing is a farce.

“It is and I’m not going to take that statement back,” Namjoon responds. Seokjin rolls his eyes dramatically but Namjoon ignores him. “It’s better if they come around to it by themselves. I believe in them. Besides, weren’t you the one who intervened when it looked like Hoseok was going to kiss her? I had to edit that footage, I saw how you pushed all those decorations off the table.”

Jin raises his eyebrows. “Can you imagine the chaos if he’d done that without either of them confessing properly first? They’d both pretend like it never happened. I was doing them a favour.” He casts a sideways look at Namjoon, who nods in reluctant agreement. “You know the rest of the office has a pool on how soon one of those idiots actually confesses? Do you want in on it? If either one of us gets it, we can split it 50/50.”

“That’s also grossly inappropriate,” Namjoon says, before he pauses. “Hm. How much is in the pool?”

--

Turns out you didn’t need to worry so much.

“Oh my God, look at that!” Hoseok has his face pressed up against the glass of the pod, the London Eye giving you the opportunity to look down at the metropolis of the city sprawling out below you; Hoseok’s pointing at a weirdly shaped skyscraper, panels of glass refracting off alternate shades of blue. “That’s so cool!”

“I think it’s called The Gherkin,” you say and he makes a noise of delight. Beside you, Jimin and Taehyung take a selfie with the panorama of London behind them, and you smile.

It’s true that Hoseok has been clingier than usual. The thing is, though, you’ve been clingier too; you’ve had time between filming to do some sightseeing, and neither of you have been to London before, so everything is exciting and fun and new, and you’ve been holding onto each other throughout the journey, familiarity in an unfamiliar place. You’re too busy taking in the sights and travelling from place to place, you and Hoseok and Jimin and Taehyung cramming close together each time you take the Tube somewhere, or asking people to take photos of you, and you’re having too much fun to worry about anything else.

You even get recognised a few times, which is exciting. You know Unsolved is popular but there’s something gratifying about people an ocean away knowing who you are and enjoying your work- you look on fondly as Hoseok makes your fans laugh, putting the nervous ones at ease, before shuffling together so they can take photos with you. It’s lovely, really, and you’re so glad that you and Hoseok get to experience this together. There’s no one else you’d rather be with.

You’d had a brief moment of panic after filming the first episode, Hoseok sliding into your bed as per usual, but you’d both been so tired and jetlagged that you’d basically fallen asleep the second he’d finished wrapping his arms around you, so it had been okay. You weren’t as jetlagged for the second episode, of course, but there was something soothing about having Hoseok curled around you as he slept; despite how your heart probably should have been racing, it had just gone quiet instead, slipping into a gentle beating rhythm as you’d drifted into sleep.

So on the whole it’s been all been going a lot better than you’d thought. It feels natural to let your head fall onto Hoseok’s shoulder as you both stare out of the train window, watching the fields and villages slip by as you race out of London to your final filming location, only a few days away from jetting home again.

“We should come back,” Hoseok says suddenly, his voice low enough that Jimin and Taehyung aren’t distracted from the card game they’re playing together across the aisle from you.

“For more episodes? We’ll probably have to wait till the next quarter so there’s money in the budget.” You turn away from the view outside to look up at him, chin resting on his shoulder. “We can start looking up other haunted locations when we get home, if you want.”

Hoseok smiles. “I meant we should come back just for a regular holiday,” he says. “So we don’t have to worry about rushing from place to place. I know you’re disappointed we didn’t have time to see the Royal Botanic Gardens. I know how much you love flowers.”

Oh. You keep looking up at Hoseok, the way you have such a perfect view of the round apples of his cheeks, the swoop of his nose, the sharp cut of his jaw- you think about walking hand in hand with him past bursting blooms, through delicate arching greenhouses, surrounded by colour and beauty, and you know you’d still think he was the most beautiful flower there. 

“I’d like that,” you say quietly. You’re almost drowned out by how loudly Taehyung yells snap! and the subsequent groan Jimin lets out, but you know Hoseok hears you by the way his mouth lifts into a smile. “Is there anything you wanted to see next time?”

Hoseok shrugs, but only with one shoulder, doing a little jiggle with the one you’re not resting your chin on, which makes you smile. “Nothing specific,” he says. “I’m happy as long as I get to see it with you.”

Your eyes flutter shut as he says this, words settling deep in your chest, and you turn your head so that your cheek is resting on his shoulder again, shirt soft against your skin. “Love you, Hobi.”

Hoseok doesn’t respond straight away, but then he turns his head and kisses the crown of your head lightly. “Love you too.”

You arrive in Colchester in the late afternoon, and you don’t film until tomorrow, so after you’ve finished unpacking your stuff at your apparently haunted bed and breakfast, you make the group decision to just chill out for the evening and grab a couple of drinks. There’s a pub near your B&B so you and the boys pile into it, claiming a table in the corner so that you’re not in the way of the regulars, although every so often one of you has to venture up to the bar to order your drinks, trying to follow whatever sort of queuing system seems to be going on. (After the lemonade thing you had actually ended up actually asking Namjoon about Britain and the etiquette over here, and he was very insistent on following queues.)

By the time it’s your turn to grab the drinks it seems like it’s starting to get busy, so it’s taking some time for the bartender to get to you, but that’s okay- you lean against the bar and scroll through your phone, taking the opportunity to double check your schedule for tomorrow, when you feel someone tap your arm and you glance up.

“Hi,” the man says. He’s been waiting nearby, lounging against the bar, similar to you. “Are you waiting for a drink? You can go first, if you’d like.”

“Oh, no, no!” You shake your head and laugh a little. “You were here before me, that’s okay.”

When he hears your accent his eyes light up. “Oh, are you a tourist? I thought I hadn’t seen you around, because I definitely would have remembered you. How long are you over here for?”

“Uh, just a couple of nights.” You smile at him. “I’m guessing you’re a local?”

“Yeah.” He smiles back at you. “I could show you around, if you’d like.”

You startle at the sudden sensation of hands sliding around your waist, but it only takes you a second to recognise the touch and you relax against Hoseok, your back pressed against his chest as you turn away from the man to glance up at your friend. “Hi, baby,” he says. “Did you make a friend?”

“We’ve only just started talking, actually,” you say, turning back to the guy you have yet to introduce yourself properly to. “Sorry, I never caught your name?”

“That’s okay. I think my friends are calling me,” he says, and he pushes himself off the bar before brushing himself down and then walking away, giving both of you a polite little nod as he passes.

“He never even ordered his drinks.” You blink with confusion and then shrug. “Oh well, means we’ll get ours sooner. You can go sit back down, Hobi, I’ll be back soon.”

“I’m already here, I may as well stay with you,” he says, tightening his grip around your waist, and you don’t argue. He keeps hold of you as you wait and then helps you carry your drinks to the table before he pulls you onto his lap, keeping you in place with one hand splayed over your stomach while he uses the other to lift his glass to his mouth.

“Fuck chairs, right?” Jimin says. Taehyung elbows him.

“Don’t be jealous because I have the best seat in the house,” you say, before sticking your tongue out at Jimin. 

He gives you a mock affronted gasp and clutches his chest and you laugh before settling back against Hoseok, comfortable on your familiar perch atop his thighs. Hoseok might be the world’s biggest lightweight and easily gets tipsy over a single sip of alcohol- but despite this, his hold on you is firm and steady, even when he’s laughing over your shoulder, keeping you safe in his lap. He keeps stealing sips of your drink, dipping his head forwards to capture your straw whenever you’re not paying attention, but you don’t mind. What’s yours is Hoseok’s. (You’ve been taking sips of his beer, too, even if you make a face at the bitterness each time.)

By the time you shuffle back to your B&B, you’re all pleasantly drunk and keep giggling at each other about dumb and inconsequential things, although you’re careful to keep your voices down so that you don’t disturb anyone, trying to keep your footsteps light as you walk up the stairs. Jimin and Taehyung’s room is a little further up the corridor than yours and you clap your hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter when you see Taehyung trying to open the wrong door before Jimin redirects him.

You might not be too much better, but at least you remember which room is yours- you unlock the door on your first try, although it’s a little hard to step inside with how Hoseok is wrapped around your back, trying to time his steps with yours but failing a little with how tipsy he is. You keep laughing whenever he moves his feet forwards at the wrong time, a messy tangle of limbs that keep bumping together as you kick your shoes off, and you end up collapsing onto one of the beds with Hoseok still clinging onto you. He tips over backwards while your back is still pressed to his chest and you let out a little squeal at the sudden falling sensation, but he cushions your fall without complaint and still doesn’t let go, even when you accidentally elbow him in the sternum.

“We should wash up and get in our pyjamas,” you say, but you’re already wriggling into a more comfortable position, turning over so you can look at his face instead of staring up at the ceiling. Hoseok’s head has sunken into one of the fluffy hotel-style pillows, his hair a messy halo around his head, face flushed red from the alcohol. You smile down at him. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says. “I don’t want to move right now.”

“You’re so drunk,” you giggle, but you rest your head on his chest and let your body relax, muscles unwinding as you let out a long, happy sigh. “We can move later, then.”

Even though you’d genuinely meant to get up and do your nightly ritual, you’re so comfortable snuggled with Hoseok in the soft bed that you drift off. For once, you fall asleep before him, eyes fluttering shut as your breaths deepen with sleep; Hoseok keeps stroking a hand down your back, brushing tenderly down the line of your spine with his long fingers in a way he’s done a thousand times. He’s still grateful for the opportunity every time, though- that he gets to see you like this, that he can touch you like this, that you’ve allowed him so deeply into your life and made a home in his, too.

“Goodnight, baby,” Hoseok says, voice barely audible in the quiet of the room. You’re so deeply asleep that you don’t stir, but he’s still careful and gentle when he touches his lips to your forehead with the lightest of pressures, tender. “Sleep well.”

When you wake up the next morning, it takes you a long time to come fully to your senses. You feel warm and heavy, surrounded by the smell of fresh sheets and Hoseok, and you don’t want to wake up just yet; you’re in that soft place between waking and sleeping, drifting in wakeful limbo as you slowly start to regain a sense of who you are and where you are. 

Your brain flickers on, starting to pull itself together as the sensation of being a singular warm mass starts to dissolve, drawing up a mental map of how your body is slotted against Hoseok’s, where your limbs start and his end. That’s your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. That’s his arm around your shoulder, keeping you close even in your sleep. That’s your hand, resting on his hip, fingers hooked in his belt. Those are your legs, tangled around his, your toes pressed to his calf, and that’s-

Your eyes fly open. You’re still wearing your clothes from the night before, thicker denim of your jeans rather than the flimsy cotton of your pyjamas, but you know exactly what’s pressed against your hip bone. You’ve slept in the same bed with Hoseok enough times that this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve woken to his morning wood, but you’ve never been this tangled up before; you normally slide out of bed and pretend you haven’t noticed anything, and by the time Hoseok wakes up it’s normally gone, or he subtly shuffles off to the bathroom to deal with it, thinking that you’re none the wiser. 

It’s natural, it’s normal, it’s nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about, but right now all you can think of is the hand you have near his hip, how close it is to his arousal, how easy it would be to slip your hand past his belt and jeans and boxers to grasp that hard, heavy heat-

You stiffen. You would never, ever do that, not ever, never take advantage of Hoseok while he was sleeping, and you know it was just a flickering thought in your still sleepy brain, probably still a little drunk, too- but you feel sick. You can’t believe you would even hypothetically consider taking advantage of him like that. If you were more than friends, then, sure, you’d wake Hoseok up with a pleasuring touch- but you’re not. You’re not. 

It takes a real feat of slow, drawn out acrobatics, but you manage to extricate yourself from Hoseok’s grasp without waking him. He only wakes up to the sound of the shower rumbling through the wall, blinking as he realises that his arms are empty, even though he should be used to this by now. By the time you walk out of the ensuite, towelling off your hair, Hoseok’s got a cup of tea waiting for you by the kettle, a few scattered milk droplets nearby from the tiny, complimentary pots.

“Morning, baby.” He’s still sleepy and there’s a crease on his cheek from where he’d turned his head into the pillow, hair ruffled, shirt wrinkled after a night of sleeping in it. “Tea?”

You feel a little better after your hot shower, scrubbing all the dirty thoughts off your skin, but when Hoseok looks so soft and homely like this it’s hard not to want to just eat him whole. 

“Ooh, how British,” you say, trying to laugh- Hoseok still seems too heavy-eyed to notice how you’re a little bit off right now, thankfully. “Yes, please.”

Unfortunately, you can’t shake your lingering weirdness and feelings of guilt, and when Hoseok wakes fully, he notices. You’re not due to film at Colchester Castle until it’s night time, shooting the episode when it’s going to be dark, so you’ve organised a day trip to the town’s zoo- Colchester Zoo is huge, full of all sorts of animals and exhibits, and Hoseok’s been excited to visit it from the moment he found out about it. 

You’d even looked up the map online so that you could plan out the optimum route and ensure you didn’t miss anything, the two of you crowding around your phone screen and pointing excitedly at the names of the different exhibits, ready and raring to go.

So Hoseok is understandably a little stunned when you apparently seem to want to drag your feet and stay with Jimin and Taehyung instead. Both the boys want to just wander around the zoo willy-nilly, separating off from you and taking it slow- but after a brief, silent discussion between the two of them, eyes flicking at each other and then back to you, they agree to come with you on your planned route.

You send up a silent prayer of thanks to anyone who’s listening. You can use the chaotic duo as cushioning and put them between you and Hoseok if you need to.

You know you’re not being especially subtle right now, but every time Hoseok moves closer to you all you can think about is how his choice of outfit today is fraying your already delicate nerves, the loose fabric of his fashionable sweatpants doing nothing to protect the outline of his dick from your wandering gaze. You don’t mean to look, but you can’t help it, even if you’re fairly certain that half the time it’s just a crease in the fabric from how he’s standing and not actually his dick, but-

“I thought it’d be harder than that,” Taehyung says. “It’s so much hairier than I thought it would be.”

You freeze, eyes shooting away from Hoseok’s crotch. Luckily no one seems to be paying you any attention and instead the boys are peering into the armadillo exhibit, watching as the animal snuffles around the ground.

“They don’t call it a large hairy armadillo for nothing,” Jimin giggles. “And it’s still a baby, the armour hasn’t grown in properly yet. It’ll look harder once it’s grown up a bit.”

All the tension rushes out of your body at once. Jesus Christ. 

Hoseok notices you slumping a little, glancing up from the map when he hears the sigh of air escape your body. “Are you okay?” He seems concerned.

“Never better,” you lie unconvincingly, giving him a weak smile. “What’s next on the list?”

Hoseok seems concerned about you for the whole day, and even a little hurt when you keep slipping out of his grasp, but the truth is that you need to put some distance between the two of you right now, for the sake of your own heart and sanity. Being desperately head over heels for Hoseok is one thing and you’d just started becoming okay with that again, but this sudden wave of physical yearning (you’re too embarrassed to think of it as horniness) is out of the left field and it’s a lot harder to cover up. You hate seeing sadness on Hoseok’s face, and normally you’d be cooing over him and asking him to tell you what’s wrong- but you know what’s wrong. It’s you. 

“Do you think something happened?” Taehyung whispers quietly to Jimin, the two of them watching as you act like you’ve been distracted by the Koi fish and walk away from Hoseok as he’s just about to reach for your hand.

“I think we’re reaching critical mass.” Jimin pretends to read from the zoo map. “We’ve nearly hit the nuclear reaction and one of them is finally going to blow. It might get messy.”

“I hope not,” Taehyung says, watching the way Hoseok stares at the back of your head as you peer into the tank of glittering fish. “I’ve never been good at cleaning up.”

It’s a little easier once the evening finally rolls around and Hoseok replaces those delicious sweatpants with marginally more professional jeans, as ripped as they are. It’s also easier to slip into the natural rhythm and rapport you have when you’re being filmed- it’s not that you’re ever any faker on camera, but it’s just an unthinking response to the sight of them, your body switching from Normal mode to Work mode. Taehyung readjusts the camera rig you have looped around your body while Jimin sorts out Hoseok, night vision lens pointed towards your faces, before letting you go.

“Ready?” You ask, glancing at your co-host. Hoseok seems less enthusiastic than usual, and you internally cringe, contrition shooting through you at how you’ve managed to dampen his mood because you’ve spent the whole day being distant.

“Ready,” Hoseok says, subdued. Your face crumples and you reach out for his hand, squeezing his fingers, trying to communicate a silent apology for something he isn’t even aware of. 

“I won’t abandon you, okay?” You keep your fingers tangled with his as you speak and grip them hard. “There’s a lot of scary stuff in this castle and I promise I won’t leave your side.”

Hoseok pauses but then squeezes your hand back, and he seems to brighten, even though he’s still a little dimmed. “I know,” he says. “I know you won’t.”

Even though he says that, he spends less time clinging onto you than normal. It’s probably not noticeable to the average onlooker, and with how most of the footage is going to be cut later, you’re certain your audience won’t notice either- but while Hoseok still screams and jumps at things, he seems to separate from you as soon as the fear has passed. He doesn’t linger or keep hold of you, even when he seems visibly shaken, eyes wide as you ascend the stairs and hear what sounds like singing even though there’s no one else here- it’s probably just wind whistling through the ancient corridors and walls of the castle, but you know that Hoseok is terrified.

“Do you want to hold my hand?” You look over your shoulder and proffer your hand but Hoseok just shakes his head.

“I’m fine.” He’s clinging onto the banister, both hands white knuckled around the metal railing. “I’m fine.”

Even though you’ve been the one who’s been avoiding touching him all day, it hurts when he says that, as hypocritical as you know you’re being. You draw your hand back to your side and don’t offer again after that, although you still pat him soothingly when he instinctively grabs you later, jumping at a clattering noise in the distance. You’re not easily spooked, but Colchester Castle definitely has some weird vibes, so if you’re feeling like this, Hoseok must feel even more scared than normal.

At one point you walk through a spider web and flinch in surprise when you feel it on your face, jumping backwards and swiping at your face. Hoseok is immediately there, eyes wide as he stares at you, immediately protective despite his fear. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Uh, it was just a spider web,” you admit, chagrined. “I overreacted, sorry.”

Hoseok nods and immediately backs off, giving you room as he turns around. You can’t help the hurt that flashes across your face as soon as he looks away.

“Critical mass,” Jimin mutters to Taehyung, who nods sagely.

The worst and weirdest moment of the night actually happens once the episode is over. Hoseok is oddly quiet as you both get ready for bed, not talking to you through the open bathroom door as he meticulously massages cream into his face like he normally does- and once he flicks the light off, plunging the room into blue tinged darkness, you’re stunned as you watch his silhouette slide into his own bed instead of into yours.

He’s never slept in his own bed after a supernatural filming. Even after your first paranormal themed episode together, when you’d still been mostly strangers. He’d been bashful and hesitant despite how obviously scared he was, asking if he could sleep in your bed, and of course you’d said yes, wanting to do anything you could to soothe him and help him feel safe. So the fact he’s not sleeping in your bed now, it’s- it’s- it’s not right. 

The only light in the room is from the tiny, faint red numbers of the digital clock, and you watch as time trickles slowly by- you stay awake for what feels like hours, laying on your side as you stare towards Hoseok’s bed. Your eyes adjust to the near darkness, room painted in low-contrast sfumato, and you can see how Hoseok is turned away from you; he’s unnaturally still and silent, and you know he hasn’t fallen asleep either, too scared and wound up to drift off.  

Outside, a vehicle rumbles past, and you can see how Hoseok stiffens at the noise of the loose fan belt, a high squeal that’s admittedly startling after the silence of the night. The shine of the headlights through the drawn curtains is muted but still more than enough to throw the room into brief, sharp relief, the tension in Hoseok’s shoulders screaming out to you- you can’t stand it anymore and you slip out from under your blankets so that you can make your way across the dark room. 

Hoseok turns when he hears you stumble over something on the floor- you think it’s a pair of socks- and makes a little noise of surprise when you throw back the corner of his duvet so you can slide in next to him.

“Y/n?” He sounds tired, but still fully awake- you were right, he’s been struggling to sleep.

“Hobi,” you say. “Why are you over here, all alone like this?”

You can barely make out the details of his features, as curved towards each other as you are; you can see the faint darkness where his hollows of his eyes are, his pretty mouth nothing more than an undefined line in the muted room. 

“I- I didn’t want to disturb you.” His voice is a quiet, unhappy murmur, and you feel your heart break at the dejection in his tone.

“Oh, Hoseok.” You cup his face in your hands, running your thumbs back and forth over his cheeks; you can feel the tension in his face, how he must be frowning. You might not be able to see everything all too well, but you’re more than familiar enough with Hoseok’s face to know where the furrow between his brows is, and press a little kiss to it. “My Hobi,” you say, and start to litter kisses over his forehead, his cheeks, his eyelids, the tip of his nose. “My baby. My darling.”

You keep touching your lips to his skin, wanting his unhappiness and fear to fade away, whispering pet names between each kiss. You tilt your lips against his chin, and Hoseok makes a little noise before his hands come up to grasp your wrists, pulling them away from where they’re still cupping his jaw. You go still, eyes widening, even if he can’t see it. “Hoseok?”

“Did I- did I do something wrong?” He sounds unsure. “You were avoiding me all day- I thought you didn’t want- I thought you wanted me to leave you alone,” he says, and you can hear guilt in his voice. “I thought I’d scared you off somehow.”

You make a little, unhappy noise. “No, baby, no,” you say. You shake your head, faces still so close from your kisses that your noses brush, but you don’t pull away- you need him to know that it’s not his fault. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t that at all.”

“Then what was it?” His grip slips away from around your wrists to slide his fingers between yours instead, holding your hands. “Tell me.”

You go still. His tone is so imploring: he wants to know what’s wrong, so he can fix it, make it better. “Hoseok.” Your voice is quiet. “You’re my best friend, Hoseok.”

“And you’re mine,” he says, squeezing your hands. Your heart feels small and feeble in your chest, a weak little thing that swells up at Hoseok’s words, but immediately shrinks again in fear. “You can tell me anything.”

“You’re my best friend, Hoseok,” you repeat. Hoseok goes silent. “You’re my best friend, and I-” You take a deep breath, trying to fill your lungs, get some oxygen flowing through your terrified heart, taking bellows to a dying ember, trying to grow it into a flame. “Honestly, I’m just selfish, Hoseok,” you say. “I’m just- being your best friend is already everything to me- but I’m so selfish-”

“Y/n.” Hoseok’s voice is a hush.

“I’m in love with you, Hoseok.” 

There. You said it. 

You can feel how Hoseok stiffens, how his fingers go utterly still in yours as you continue to speak.

“I’m in love with you, and I was just so scared you’d realise how head over heels I’ve always been for you and you’d end our friendship because everything I feel is just so much, and I just needed space today, I needed space to try and get my head straight and not scare you away by making things weird, and I’m sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, I never want to hurt you, Hoseok. I’m sorry. I love you. Please don’t hate me.”

You take in a deep shuddering breath once all the words have spilled out of you, so much air. It’s out in the world, now, and you can’t take it back. 

As the seconds tick by, the initial heady rush of terror starts to fade and is instead replaced with resignation, unsurprised at how Hoseok is still frozen against you. He’s deathly silent. He’s probably mentally drafting the nicest way to gently let you down, always so kind and lovely, so wonderful, your Hoseok. 

A twinge shoots through your heart as you mentally correct yourself- he’s not yours, and he doesn’t want to be. You should have just kept your mouth shut.

“I’m sorry,” you say again. Your voice is a miserable whisper. “You’re just so easy to love.”

You try to pull your hands out of his so you can slink back to your bed and wallow in your misery, but Hoseok just tightens his grip. You tug again, a little more insistent, and this time he lets go- but before you can roll out of his bed he’s grabbing your face, long, beautiful fingers splaying over your cheeks and jaw, locking you in place as he presses his forehead against yours.

“Y/n.” His voice is uncharacteristically serious, low. “I’m going to kiss you.”

Your eyes widen. “You’re-”

You’re cut off when Hoseok presses his mouth to yours. He’s kissed you before, on your forehead, your cheeks, the bare skin of your shoulder when you wear the sundress he likes so much- but you’ve never felt his heart shaped lips against yours, never felt them soft and warm as they catch your own, and it’s so much. He keeps drawing his mouth across yours, catching your lips between his own, tongue pressing out to swipe across them, and you shiver as the kiss slowly turns slick and wet, even as it stays so tender.

His hands wrap around your waist and he rolls over you, pinning you down with his weight as you keep kissing and kissing and kissing. Your hands are in his hair while his cup your face, holding you like you’re something delicate and precious, palms warm against your skin. You don’t separate to breathe, keeping your lips locked as the kisses turn open-mouthed, Hoseok’s tongue gliding against yours, the lingering taste of your shared toothpaste mingling with his saliva- you shiver underneath him when he nips at your lower lip before soothing it with his tongue, and you crane your head forward to press further into his mouth, kisses slow and deep, and by the time you finally separate, you feel dizzy and breathless.

“Hobi,” you breathe out. “Hobi, turn the light on, I want to see you.”

Hoseok leans over you to flick on the bedside lamp, illuminating you both with its bright light- you can see how kiss swollen his gorgeous mouth is, how the sheen of your saliva on his flushed lips glows gold from the lamplight, how his hair is a mess from how you’ve been running your hands through it. He looks like your best friend, and also nothing like that at all, something familiar and unfamiliar all at once. Hoseok, forever changed by the touch of your lips.

“My baby.” He’s smiling at you, all warmth and fondness, and you squirm underneath him, embarrassed by the weight of his affection for you. “Y/n. I love you too.”

You probably shouldn’t be surprised, considering how Hoseok has just kissed you breathless, but you still feel your heart stutter in your chest. You’re staring up at him with your wide eyes as he bends forward again- he mimics what you did earlier, trailing kisses over your forehead and cheekbones and nose before he kisses one corner of your mouth, then the other, then your cupid’s bow, then just under the swell of your bottom lip. “I love you, love you, love you,” he says, punctuating each kiss with the repeated confession, as if each time he says it it’s not punching the air out of your lungs.

“Hoseok?”

“Yes?” He’s still smiling, those warm little creases under his eyes as he looks at you, every inch of him just screaming out happiness. You did that. He’s happy because of you. 

“Do you- do you remember when we first met? Years ago?” You don’t want to break the moment, but he’s never mentioned the umbrella thing and you’ve never asked before and you have a burning desire to know if he can recall-

“Do you mean the first time we actually met, or the first time you officially introduced yourself to me? I remember both,” Hoseok says. “I always knew you’d get the job. Besides, if you hadn’t, you would have had to keep the umbrella,” he adds, smile edging into something a little cheeky. “And then there would have been a pretty girl out there thinking about me every time it rained.”

Your eyes widen before you hide your face in your hands, overwhelmed at the idea that Hoseok had thought that you were pretty before he’d even known you; he coos at you and pulls your hands away to reveal your flustered expression, trapping them against the pillow so you can't hide your face again. Hoseok’s smile has faded into something a little more serious, but no less loving, and although you feel open and naked and vulnerable right now, it’s not because you think he’s judging you. 

“You never said anything, so I thought you’d forgotten,” you admit. “But from the second you smiled at me as you handed me that umbrella, I knew I was a goner. I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Hoseok.”

It’s not often that you see Hoseok look like this, his eyes so serious and deep, but his entire face is still so soft, smiling. “Me, too,” he confesses. “Me too. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to risk our friendship and I love you too much to want to give that up.”

The smile that splits your face is so wide it almost hurts. “I love you,” you say again, for the sheer novelty of hearing it out loud, seeing how Hoseok lights up- the fact you can say it without fear of his reaction, because he loves you, too. He loves you. He’s in love with you. “I love you, Hoseok, I-”

He cuts you off with a kiss, swallowing your words of love into his curved mouth, the two of you smiling and laughing as your lips come together again and again- but when he presses his tongue to your lower lip and you part them, he licks into your mouth in a way that’s almost lewd, warm and wet, and you shiver as you think about exactly how long that tongue is.

Hoseok still has his hands around your wrists from before, and you feel how his grip tightens imperceptibly when he feels you tremble underneath him. Your cheeks feel warm when he pulls back and you wonder if your blush is visible, but Hoseok seems intent on other things, dipping his head forward to catch your earlobe between his teeth for a sharp moment, nipping it before licking it with his hot, wet tongue. Your entire body shudders as he starts to kiss down the side of your jaw, and you tilt your head to give him better access, gasping when he draws his tongue over the oversensitive skin of your neck; you can feel how he smiles against your skin before kissing your throat.

“Hobi,” you breathe, and then gasp when he draws the flat of his tongue over the hollow of your neck. Each teasing touch of his tongue and lips is trickling straight to your core, your panties growing wetter and wetter with your arousal. “Hobi, oh.”

“I’m going to worship you the way you deserve to be worshipped, princess,” he murmurs, lips moving against your collarbones as he speaks. “I’ve been waiting to do this for so long." He keeps kissing you between his words, punctuating them with sweeps of his tongue over your skin, and it's so much. "Hold still for me, baby, there you go.”

Hoseok releases your wrists and you flex your fingers but stay in that position, your hands palm up as they rest either side of your head. Hoseok leans back to stare at you underneath him, laid out for his gaze; you’re in an old t-shirt and faded pyjama bottoms, face bare, hair a haphazard mess where it rests against the pillow, but he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Like you’re draped in diamonds and gold and silks. He looks at you with reverence and love, like he wants to cherish you- but there’s also something deeper in those half-lidded eyes of his, like he wants to swallow you whole.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes. You bite your lip, swallowing down a needy noise at the tone of his voice, hands clenching into fists where they rest beside your head.

“Hobi, please,” you say. “I need you.”

“You have me.” He takes one of his hands and slowly pushes the material of your shirt up, dragging his palm over your skin as he reveals the softness of your stomach. He lets the material bunch just under your breasts, ignoring how your nipples have hardened and stand out through the thin cotton of your old tee, running his fingers over your sides; you buck a little underneath him, sucking in a breath at how his touch is almost ticklish. “So sensitive.”

“You haven’t even touched me properly yet,” you say, a little snarky despite your breathlessness, but then you’re cut off when Hobi’s hands slide under the t-shirt to cup your breasts, palms and fingers cool against your overheated skin. Your pussy clenches when he flicks his thumbs over each of your hardened buds, running the pads of his fingertips over them, and you arch into his touch.

“So sensitive,” he says again, a little smile behind his words as he watches how your chest rises and falls under his hands, sucking in air when he pinches your nipples between his fingers. “Do you like that, baby?”

“Like it when you touch me,” you sigh. Hoseok smiles, flashing his teeth at you before leaning forward to kiss you again. He coaxes you to lift up a little so he can pull off your shirt, smoothing your hair when it gets ruffled by the motion, but before you can smile up at him for his tenderness, he lowers the heat of his mouth over one of your nipples and you gasp.

One of your hands flies up to grasp his hair when he circles the bud with his tongue, and you let out a low moan as he continues to lave attention on it, flattening his tongue and dragging it over the sensitive flesh. He alternates between your breasts, using his hands and fingers on whichever he’s not suckling between his lips; goosebumps erupt over your skin, and you keep biting back whines and gasps each time he does something particularly wicked with his mouth. 

You feel so, so wet, arousal pooling between your legs, and you need him to touch you there. But he's slow, taking his time until your chest is heaving and your skin is flushed and your nipples are slick from the wetness of his mouth, his fingers just the right side of rough whenever he pinches the hardened peaks, and you mewl beneath him.

You’re just about to beg Hoseok to give you more when he finally lifts his mouth from your nipple, and you go tense as he starts to trail his lips down the valley of your breasts, across the sensitive skin of your stomach, hands roaming over the rest of you; he slides down the bed until he’s resting between your legs, and all you can think about is how close his mouth is to where you want it to be. 

You’re so wet that you’ve soaked right through your panties, a touch of dampness clinging to the flimsy material of your pyjama bottoms too, and you shiver at the way Hoseok seems to drink down the sight before he hooks his fingers into the loose elastic waistband, and starts to inch them down. He’s moving torturously slowly, kissing your bare legs as he reveals your skin, touching his lips to your thighs, your calves, your ankles. 

He does the same again with your panties, even more slowly; palms sliding up the side of your legs so he can curl his fingers around the fabric of your underwear and peel it off you. You shiver when your pussy is finally revealed, your inner thighs slick with your arousal and cooling from the touch of the air- Hoseok continues to suck and kiss trails across your legs even as he stares at your naked, weeping core, his gaze heavy as he drinks down the sight.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, running his fingers over your bare skin as you tremble beneath him. “So gorgeous and perfect. Look at you, all laid out, just for me. I love you.”

“Hoseok,” you whimper. He’s still entirely clothed while you’re naked and bare, and you feel utterly debauched in comparison to him, the sheen of his saliva still shining over your body, nipples hard, your pussy lips flushed from arousal, every part of you begging for more- meanwhile he’s still got his surprisingly cute matching pyjama set on. The contrast is making your dizzy. He cups your foot in one of his hands, turning his head to press a kiss to your inner ankle, and your toes curl. “Please, baby, I need you.”

“I’ve got you, princess,” he murmurs. He drops one last kiss to your ankle before shifting towards your canting hips; his breath curls out over your core and you shudder, another flood of arousal shooting through you, your cunt clenching as Hoseok stares at it shamelessly. “Look at you,” he says, reverent. “So pretty and wet for me.”

“Hobi,” you whine. You bite back a gasp as he hooks your fingers behind your knees and forces your legs apart, spreading you open, entirely helpless underneath his hungry gaze. You watch in wonder as he lets his tongue curl out of his mouth, looking sinfully dirty as he does- but then you let out a whine when he turns his head away from your pussy and licks the inner seam of your thigh instead. Your hips jump at the sensation, your skin so sensitive from the attention that he’s lavishing on you, but it’s not where you want his mouth to be, even if the lingering kisses he’s giving to your inner thighs feel good. “Hoseok, please.”

He hums indulgently, and you’re about to start begging again when he purses his lips and blows out a puff of air over your flushed lower lips; the sudden chill against your damp folds has you tensing, and before you can gather your wits Hoseok drags his hot, wet tongue up the seam of your pussy to gather the wetness there. You cry out from the sudden explosion of sensation when he repeats the motion but presses past your lower lips to tongue at your slit, lapping up the juices at your entrance before circling your clit with the tip of his tongue, your spine arching as your hips buck. “Oh, God, Hoseok, yes, right there.”

He slides one of his arms over your stomach, trapping you, holding you down as you try to cant your hips towards his mouth. You sob with pleasure as he continues to drink down your juices, leisurely licking at the most sensitive parts of you, in no rush at all. “Hobi, please,” you beg. “Please, I need more.”

Hoseok turns his head to lightly bite your inner thigh, your leg twitching at the sensation, surprised at how pleasurable it is. “Ssh,” he murmurs. “I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time. I want to savour it,” he says, and you let out a whine when he dips his head back down and starts to lap at your clit again, his dark eyes watching each of your reactions, the way you writhe and curl your toes each time he dips back down to your entrance, pressing his tongue inside you. “You taste so good, baby. Your pretty little cunt is so perfect.”

You whine at the praise, writhing when each swipe of his tongue over you is fanning the flames of your arousal higher and higher, and you can feel how the coil inside you is tightening, so close to reaching your peak. Hoseok’s still eating you out, nice and slow, and you’ve never felt an orgasm creep up on you like this- you moan as Hoseok finally buries his face in your pussy, tongue sliding from your slit, to your clit, over and over. 

It’s so, so good, and then you watch as he slides one of his long fingers inside you and curls it inside you just right- “I’m gonna cum, Hoseok, I’m- oh!”

The intensity of your orgasm hits you like a freight train, exploding from deep inside you. Your back arches off the bed and your toes curl as you cum and cum and cum, Hoseok keeping his mouth on you the whole time, your entire body shuddering as waves of pleasure wash over you, wetness flooding out of your cunt that he drinks down eagerly. 

The build up was slow, and the come down is slow, too, aftershocks rippling through your body for longer than any orgasm you’ve had before, and Hoseok keeps licking and sucking you through it all until you’re almost crying out from the overstimulation and you have to push his head away. The aftershocks are still rippling through your body as Hoseok rises, your pussy clenching each time, and you feel boneless and strung out- but you know Hoseok isn’t done with you yet.

“So pretty when you cum for me,” he says. You reach out for him and he comes so easily, fitting himself between your arms. His lips and chin shine with evidence of your arousal and when you pull him in for a kiss you can taste yourself across his tongue, a noise bubbling up at the back of your throat when you feel how slick his lips are against yours.

“Wanna make you cum too,” you say, your voice weak after the strength of that orgasm; you take in a deep breath, willing the oxygen to bring some energy back into your body. “Baby. Hoseok.”

“Mm.” He kisses you again. “You will, baby, don’t worry, you’re always so good for me.”

Your fingers fumble when you try to unbutton his shirt, but when Hoseok laughs, it’s not patronising at all; he just sounds fond. He takes over, deft fingers making quick work of the shirt before he throws it aside, revealing the slim line of his body to you. He’s beautiful and lean, nipples dark, skin golden, with a dark trail of hair that dips down into his pyjama bottoms- your eyes zero in on the way Hoseok’s loose pyjamas do nothing to hide his erection, the hard strain of his cock against the fabric, and you let out a little sigh of happiness that you’re finally getting to see what you’ve been desperately staring at all day. When you reach out for him your fingers barely brush his skin, and you make a greedy little noise, hungry for more.

“Need you,” you say. You want Hobi inside you, splitting you open, as close to each other as you can physically be. “Clothes off now.”

Hobi lets out a loud laugh, and you melt at the utter joy in the sound, how his face is so open and bright. 

“God, I love you,” he says, before unceremoniously shedding the offending garments. He wiggles his hips in an entirely unsexy manner, and you end up laughing too when he gets one of his legs caught and has to kick the pyjama bottoms off in an entirely graceless way. You’re still letting out quiet giggles even as Hoseok is finally bare in front of you, beautiful and unabashed in his nakedness, and you love him. 

You feel like liquid sunlight, overflowing with happiness; you’ve never laughed like this with anyone before, both naked yet still somehow amused, flipping from all-consuming arousal one second to laughter the next, but it just feels natural. Because it’s Hoseok, and everything feels so easy with him.

“I love you too,” you say, and then, when your eyes drop to his cock, you say: “God, you’re beautiful.”

His cock is gorgeous, curving up towards the ceiling, a drop of precum beaded at the tip; it’s not completely straight, hanging just a little to the left, but it’s Hoseok, so it’s perfect. He wraps his fingers around your hips and you let out a little squeal when he tugs you down the bed towards him so that your legs are dangling off the side and your hips are practically flush; his cock bobs when he moves and you shiver with how close it is to your heated core. Just like the rest of him, it’s long and lean and gorgeous, and you can’t wait to have it inside you. Although-

“Don’t I get to taste you?” You can’t help but say this with a pout, and Hoseok’s face splits into a wide smile.

“Next time, baby,” he promises. “Tonight is for you.”

Next time. The realisation that tonight is just one of many, just the start of an entirely new chapter in your life with Hoseok- that you’ll still be friends, best friends, but also more- settles inside you, warm and soft and safe. Your face creases into a smile and you slide your hands up Hoseok’s body, over his stomach and chest, touching all the skin you can, relishing in the fact that you’ll grow familiar with it all in a way that you never could have dreamed of. 

“You’re always so good to me,” you say.

“You deserve it, princess,” he replies. You tilt your hips towards him and you see how his eyes darken at the motion, tenderness swallowed by lust, and your body lights up like a livewire in preparation, ready to feel him push inside you. You’re already loose and wet from your first orgasm, but you don’t protest when Hoseok starts to run his fingers over the seam of your thigh; he presses straight in with two fingers, your body opening up for him so easily, and you gasp at how deep they move inside you, so long and pretty. 

“There, Hobi, right there.” He’s clearly not trying to bring you to orgasm again but he still listens to your directions, keeping the motions of his hands the same, fingers rubbing over your inner walls so perfectly. 

You can hear it, noises slick and dirty before he pulls them out, and you watch as he uses your arousal to slick up his cock, rubbing your juices over his hard length. It’s lewd, how he does it, pumping himself as he spreads it over his cock, wet noises vulgar and obscene, shooting straight to your core; you don’t think you’ve ever seen or heard anything so arousing in your life, the way Hoseok has his lip caught between his teeth as he looks at you, cock stiff between his legs as he runs his fingers over it. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper. “Hoseok, fuck.”

You arch your back when he grips his cock in one hand, guiding himself towards you- but rather than pressing into your entrance he runs his throbbing length back and forth through your lips, gathering even more of the wetness there, the slide so easy and smooth. It’s the most delicious, glancing pressure against your clit, not enough to satisfy, but enough to have you gasping again, the way you can feel the silken heat of his cock against you. 

“Hoseok, please.” You don’t attempt to hide the desperation in your voice. “I need you.”

Hoseok lets out a guttural groan at your words; he drinks in how blown your pupils are, the flush from your orgasm still visible over your chest, the way your fingers are clutching the bedsheets, white cotton tangled in your grasp. “Anything you want, baby,” he says, and finally, finally, he grasps his length and tilts it to your entrance. He rests there for a second, the tip barely touching you, and you see how he steels himself as he grasps your hips, before he starts to sink into you.

“Oh!” He fills you so well, inch by torturous inch, your body opening up for him so easily it’s like his cock was made to fill you; once he bottoms out you can feel how snug he is inside you, cockhead pressed against your cervix, and you shiver. “Oh, yes, Hoseok, so good.”

He stays still for one long, drawn out moment, before his hands slip off your waist and he reaches for yours. You entwine your fingers with his, staring up at him as he leans forward and kisses you; the motion has his cock shifting inside you and you whine a little against his lips, before biting off a gasp when he rocks his hips forwards. The motion is fluid and rolling, and Hoseok sets an unhurried pace, languidly filling you up with his cock, over and over and over.

The pleasure that’s growing in you is slow and relaxed. You’re not chasing your orgasms- you’re revelling in the closeness, the connection, the slip of skin against skin, how Hoseok is filling you up, how you’re drawing him in. You end up staring into each other’s eyes, Hoseok’s forehead pressed to yours so there’s nothing in your vision but him; you only break eye contact when one particularly deep roll of his hips sends a shudder through you, your eyes squeezing shut as you gasp.

“Feel so good, baby,” Hoseok murmurs. “So good for me.”

You make a noise of confusion when he lets go of your fingers and leans back, straightening up, but then he hooks his hands under your knees and you lift your hips; you drape your legs over his shoulders, arched towards him, lower body lifting off the mattress. Hoseok drives forward and you immediately gasp at how he hits your sweet spot straight on, the change of angle forcing the head of his cock to brush the top of your inner walls, each drag of the blunt head sending shocks of pleasure shooting through you.

“Wanna feel you cum around my cock, princess,” Hoseok says, and you shudder. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, Hobi, yes- faster- oh-”

Hoseok starts to ramp up the pace, snapping his hips into yours with the sound of slapping skin, and you can feel how you’re starting to tighten around him, pussy clenching with each thrust of his hot cock inside you. “Gonna cum for you, Hobi,” you say. “So close, fuck.”

He takes one of his hands off your waist and slides three fingers over your clit, and you cry out with pleasure as he starts to rub at your bundle of nerves in tight circles; the added stimulation is just what you need, and you tumble over the edge into your second orgasm of the night. Hoseok moans when he feels how your cunt clenches around him, rippling tightness around his cock, and your eyes fall shut as your mouth falls open and you rock your hips into the sensation, grinding against Hoseok to prolong the pleasure, and he continues to snap his hips forward.

You go lax, almost limp, but Hoseok is still hard inside you, so you try your best to keep your back arched towards him; the fluid roll of his thrusts is starting to fall out of rhythm as he approaches his own peak, and although your pussy is crying out at the oversensitivity, you try to match his pace, canting your hips towards Hoseok each time he drives forward.

“Want your cum all over me, Hobi,” you say. “Want you to cum on my tits-”

Hoseok curses, composure slipping entirely for the first time all night, and you feel how he fumbles his rhythm before he catches himself. His thrusts are fast and choppy before he pulls out and drops your hips to the mattress; you whine at the sudden emptiness, but then he’s shuffling his knees onto the bed and he has his hand wrapped around his slick length, jerking himself hard and fast as you arch your back and push your chest towards him.

“So fucking beautiful,” he says through gritted teeth. “So pretty, baby- fuck!”

He gasps in air before he lets out one long, drawn out moan, and then there’s hot cum splattering across your breasts, whiteness painting itself across your skin. Hoseok continues to pump himself, cock letting out more ropes of cum, and you can’t help but let out a noise of satisfaction at the sight, lifting your hands to run over his hip bones and waist and flexing thighs, watching the way Hoseok’s face draws together as he rides out his own orgasm, until his hand falls away from his cock and he’s slumping forwards over you, panting.

You hum, reaching for him and pulling him down so you can brush your lips against his. “You’re so hot when you cum,” you say. “I could watch you cum all day.”

Hoseok lets out a breathless laugh before he kisses you again, properly this time- you’re content to keep kissing regardless of the cum that’s starting to cool on your chest, but Hoseok is insistent on being a gentleman and excuses himself to the bathroom to get a towel so he can clean you up. When he drags the damp towel over your skin, he’s so soft and gentle, although you still shiver a little when the rough fabric drags over your nipples; he bends down and kisses you in apology. 

You feel warm and small and soft, watching as Hoseok walks around the bed, still naked; the paltry lamp light is still more than enough for you to see every line of his beauty, the way each of his muscles shifts under his skin as he walks and moves, bending over to gather some of the discarded clothes from the floor. You sit up and lift your arms so he can help you back into your thin t-shirt, cupping his face in your hands and kissing him with a firm press of your lips, before he shimmies back into his boxers, though you personally don’t think he needs them.

When you finally settle down for the night you both curled up on your bed- because Hoseok’s is rumpled and sweaty from your previous exertions- and nestle up gratefully under the sheets, warm from the weight of the duvet and Hoseok spooning you from behind.

“I love you,” he murmurs, nosing at the side of your neck.

“I love you too,” you reply, and then end up giggling a little, stomach jumping under Hoseok’s hand. “I need to buy Namjoon a thank you slash apology gift when we get home, you know,” you say thoughtfully. “He had to put up with me having a meltdown about you, and it turns out he was right.”

Hoseok brushes his nose over your ear. “Jin kept making pretty blasé comments to me about us,” he tells you. “But he does that about most things, so.”

You hum lightly before pressing back further against Hoseok, who tightens his hold around you in response. “I guess they knew before we did,” you say. “We’ve been acting like a couple for a long time, to be fair.” Thinking back on it, it was pretty obvious, but hindsight is 20/20, as they say. 

The next morning, as always, you wake before Hoseok- and this time when you feel the hardness pressed into your ass, you don’t panic. You do what you always do and slide carefully out of Hoseok’s arms, but unlike every other morning, he doesn’t wake up to an empty bed. Instead, he wakes up with a small gasp to the sight of you with your mouth around his cock, your eyes wide and innocent as you stare up at him; you work him up while he’s still half-asleep and slow, swallowing down his cock until he cums down your throat. You litter kisses over his hips and thighs, smiling into his skin as he comes down from his peak, his pupils blown.

“Morning, Hobi,” you say, kissing the divot below his hip bones. “I love you.”

“Come here,” he says, voice still a rasp from his sleep, eyes hungry as he reaches for you.

When the two of you eventually stumble downstairs for breakfast, Jimin and Taehyung are already there; you’re much later than normal but neither of the boys seems to notice anything out of the ordinary, Taehyung asking Hoseok to pass the pepper mill as soon as you’ve sat down.

Taehyung is enthusiastically grinding pepper over his bacon and eggs when Jimin pipes up. “You know, the ghosts in this B&B apparently like to watch the guests while they try to sleep and make noises to keep them up,” he says conversationally. “You didn’t happen to notice anything out of the ordinary in your room, did you? Taehyung and I could have sworn that we heard moaning or something at some point, but I think it must have been a trick of our minds.”

You and Hoseok exchange a quick glance. “Uh, nope, can’t say that we did,” you say, and Hoseok nods emphatically in agreement.

Jimin pauses. He squints at you, before turning to Taehyung and pulling the pepper mill out of his hands to get his attention. “I told you it was going to happen soon,” Jimin says. “They finally hit critical mass and confessed. I knew that moaning wasn’t from ghosts.”

“And there’s no mess to clean up, even if we didn’t win the betting pool.” Taehyung sounds pleased. “Can you pass the salt now please?”

You watch incredulously as both boys continue their business as usual, Taehyung swapping the pepper mill for the salt grinder while Jimin opens a tiny jar of raspberry jam for his toast. 

You turn to Hoseok, scandalised at the idea that a) your friends/co-workers heard you last night and b) there’s apparently some sort of office bet about your relationship with Hoseok, only to find that the man in question has a look of alarm on his face.

“Do you think the ghosts were watching us last night?” He has an expression that’s a mix of affronted and also scared. “That’s dirty.”

“No, baby, I don’t think we had ghostly voyeurs in our room,” you say, stroking Hoseok’s hand with reassuring fingers, before you frown and look back at the other two boys. “I hate our friends. You have a betting pool?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty big,” Taehyung says. “I’m not sure who’s won the money, I’d have to check the spreadsheet when we get back home.”

“I bet Jin was the one who came up with it, wasn’t he?” Taehyung and Jimin exchange a look, but neither of them say anything, which is more than enough to answer your question. “I’m going to shove a wedge of parmesan down his throat when we get home and see how he likes it.”

“I love you,” Hoseok says.

“I love you too,” you reply, turning your head to accept the kiss he gives you.

“You’re so cute,” Jimin says.

“Why parmesan?” Taehyung asks, before twisting the salt grinder with enough gusto that he pulls the bottom off and salt goes cascading over his breakfast. “Oh, oops. Do you think they’ll let me have more eggs?”

--

Your thank you/apology gift to Namjoon is a tin of Scottish shortbread that you find in a cute tourist shop, although when you find out he’s actually the proud winner of 50% of the betting pool, you take the shortbread back for yourself and Hoseok instead.

When Yoongi arrives at his desk to the sight of you sitting in Hoseok’s lap and feeding him between kisses, he just rolls his eyes, mutters ‘finally’, and makes no further comments. You laugh into Hoseok’s mouth and allow Jungkook to steal a piece of shortbread on his way past, too busy kissing your boyfriend to care.

“You can have the last bit of shortbread,” you say, and Hoseok grins up at you.

“You’re just saying that because I ate you out this morning,” he says, and you giggle.

“I can’t believe you just made me listen to that with my own two ears. I’m in hell.” Yoongi sounds so tired. “I think I preferred it when the two of you were dancing around each other. Go back to doing that.”

“No can do, Yoongles,” you sing-song. “I love Hoseok and I’m going to make sure everyone knows it.”

“I love you too,” Hoseok says, looking up at you with bright eyes, and you giggle before dipping down to kiss him again.

“Everyone else knew before you did,” Yoongi mutters, but neither of you pay him any mind.

[shinsoussimp]

a/n: i’ve had this idea in my mind for days now so i finally decided to write it. i’m really happy with how this turned out, it might be one of my favorite things i’ve ever written :D

TW: su!c!de attempt, please do not read if this may trigger you

I’ll never leave you

it was all too much. you couldn’t take it anymore. 

like a fountain filling up with water. more and more water being added every second. but at some point it’ll overflow. 

-----

the view from the top of the tall building filled with random offices was beautiful, you’d have to admit. a wave of calm rushed over you as you looked down, seeing how far away the ground was. maybe this was extreme. a permanent answer to a temporary problem. or even selfish. but you couldn’t handle the pain anymore. you sat on the edge swinging you feet over and letting you chin rest in your hand. in your head this was your best option. you had nothing waiting for you, no one waiting for you. 

except for kuugo.

your mind drifted to the happy times you’d spent with him. but he’d be better off without you. everyone would be. you just burdened him with all of your problems. he has his own agency, he’s a busy man. yet he has to deal with you. this would benefit him, you thought. he would have more time to spend on his work, and you don’t have to be in pain anymore, it’s a win win. right?

you still wanted to hear his voice one last time though. you pulled your phone out of your pocket and brought up his contact. tears pricked your eyes as your finger hovered over the call button. you wanted to say ‘i love you’ one last time to him, then you could do it. you didn’t want to worry him thought so you thought it would be best to make the call quick. you wiped a couple stray tears as you brought your phone up to your ear.

-----

kuugo felt a faint vibration against his leg, prompting him to pull his phone out of his pocket to check what was the matter. he saw your name across the screen and he smiled softly to himself. he knew everything you’d gone through and he cared about you so much, so he vowed to himself that he would never miss a call from you if he could help it. that’s why even now, in the middle of a meeting between a few hero agencies, he mumbles a low ‘excuse me’ before walking over to an empty corner to take the call. 

“hey, kid.” he says into the phone shoving his free hand into his pocket.

“kuugo..” you tried to hide the emotion in your voice but it was still weak, cracking a bit as you spoke. 

“what’s wrong? is everything okay?” he says with concern apparent in his voice, catching the attention of a few pro heros sitting at the table.

“i love you so much. i hope you know that.” even with tears streaming down your face and gasps for air that gave away how hard you were crying, you couldn’t help but smile as those words left your lips. but kuugo was not smiling. quite the opposite. a chill runs up his spine and his hand, once in his pocket, pulls at his tie as he tries to keep calm.

“hey, hey. little one, talk to me. what’s going on?” 

“you’ve done so much for me, i’m sorry for wasting so much of your time but i want you to know that i’ve cherished every moment we’ve spent together.” you felt as if the world was collapsing in on you and you were going to escape. but your last words needed to be with him.

“you’re scaring me. where are you?” he knew about these darker thoughts you had so as you spoke with him, he put the pieces together, and that only made him more frantic, his voice even shaking a bit, “kid you need to tell me where you are.” he was speaking much louder as he paced back and forth in the room, not even acknowledging the fact that the meeting had stopped and everyone had turned to watch him.

“it’s okay. it’ll be okay. i love you with all my heart kuugo.” you closed your eyes and hang up the phone, ignoring his protests coming from the other side of the line. you set your phone back down next to you as you looked back down at the ground. finally you would have peace.

-----

kuugo’s frozen with the phone still held up to his face, in shock and not knowing what to do. best jeanist and hawks stand up and call his name a few time, trying to get him to snap out of it.

“y-y/n..” he mumbled. he couldn’t stop the anger that was bubbling inside of him. why wasn’t he with you? how are you going to do it? how can he stop you? his phone fell out of his hand and he turned around to punch a large hole into the wall before he started pacing again.

“what about him? is he okay?” endeavor asks as he too stood up from his chair, leading most of the other heros to do the same.

“i-i need to find him.” he stammers as his pacing pickes up speed. he can’t lose you. he can’t handle that. 

“don’t you have each other’s phone locations? i know i have to track this fucker.” aizawa says, motioning to present mic. kuugo stops in his tracks as the realization hit him. aizawa was right, he still had a chance. he could find you. he dove towards his phone sitting back against his heels once he grabbed it and started searching frantically. 

“he’s at the akasaka building!” if it was possible, any and all color would drain out of his face as he realized how tall that building is, “he’s gonna jump.” the other heros gasp as the words leave his mouth. he jumps up and bursts out the door ready to sprint all the way to your location before hawks’ hand stops him. he turns around ready to sock him in the face for trying to hold him back before he sees midnight standing behind hawks holding up a set of car keys.

“you won’t get there in time if you run.” she smiles softly, her usual seductive aura is no where to be found, just genuine concern in her voice. 

“let’s go get your man.” hawks says, puffing his chest out. 

-----

midnight sped down the road, swerving in between cars and honking at anyone she deemed was driving too slow.

“jesus, do you even know how to drive?!” hawks shouts as he holds onto the seat in front of him for dear life. kuugo sits in silence, his leg bouncing up and down as he watched the world zoom past him. this didn’t even feel real at this point. he didn’t know if you were okay, if you had already done it or if he still had time. he prayed he still had time.

-----

you stepped off the edge for a second, wanting to take off the expensive watch kuugo got you, not wanting to damage it. as you stepped back up you realized just how beat down and lost you were. you had just been going through the motions, feeling empty inside. adrenaline was rushing through your veins, so much so that the ringing in your ears got louder and louder to the point where you could barely hear anything. you closed your eyes as your head fell back and your arms opened up wide, accepting the cool breeze that moved through the material of your clothing as you took one more deep breath.

-----

the car screeched to a stop and kuugo jumped out, his blood running cold when he saw you standing at the top of the building. you were too high up to be able to hear him so he rushed inside the building trying to make his way to you as fast as he could. midnight and hawks watched you carefully, feeling it would be best if kuugo went alone. they didn’t want to overwhelm you even more.

he ran up the stairs as quick as his body would let him, deciding that the elevator would be too slow with it stopping on random floors. he had no time to waste. after what felt like hours of going up flight after flight of stairs, he finally saw a door with ‘roof access’ printed across it. he flung the door open and right as he did, he watched the love of his life fall over the edge. 

he fell to his knees, his whole body feeling numb. he saw you for a split second, he thought he made it in time, but then you were gone. he couldn’t stop his animal instincts as deep moans and cries ripped through his chest. he had never felt such strong sadness before to the point where he made the sounds most whales do when they’re sad, but now he couldn’t help it. he felt like he had just lost his entire world.

-----

just when all had seemed lost, with kuugo hunched over with his face in his hands, he hears a whistling sound. he looks up to see hawks, with his wings flapping swiftly, and you in his arms. hawks lowered himself onto the roof, now standing before kuugo as the latter tried to process if this was real life or if he had passed out and was dreaming. hawks set you down and kuugo slowly stood up, walking towards you. he reached out and let his thumb run across your tear stained cheek. this was real.

“i’ll give you two some privacy..” hawks says before patting kuugo on the back and flying back down to where midnight stood by the car. kuugo’s eyes roamed your face as his other hand came up to cup the other side of your face. he steps closer to you and softly bumps his nose against your forehead.

“why..?” he whispers. and that one word causes you to breakdown. he wraps his arms around you tightly as you hug his waist in return. he sits back down again, pulling you down with him so you were laying in his lap.

“i’m s-sorry kuugo..” you grip his shirt as you bury your face into his chest. he holds your head, softly petting your hair to help calm you down. 

“please... please don’t leave me, kid. i can’t live without you. please..” he hugs you tighter and burying his face into the top of your head. he memorized your touch, your voice, even your smell because he was so close to losing you. it felt like a miracle that he was able to hold you in his arms at that moment. 

“i-i won’t.. i’m s-sorry. it just hurts so much.”

“i know, i know. i’m here though. i’ll protect you from anything. you have to come to me when you feel these feelings. we can work through them together, okay? you said on the phone you wasted my time, y/n any time spent with you is never a waste for me. it’s a gift.” you couldn’t help but cry even more, his words making you feel so much comfort and warmth that you never wanted to let go of him. 

“trust that i’m saying the truth right now because,” he pulled back and softly lifted your chin up with his fingers, “i need you. you’re my everything...” you quickly wipe the tears still streaming down your face before pressing soft kisses to kuugo’s nose and cheeks. you held your nose to his, just looking into his eyes for a second before wrapping your arms around his neck and shoving your face into his shoulder. he wrapped your legs around his waist and stood up, easily carrying you because you just fit so perfectly in his arms. he kept his hands on your back as he walked, still moving them up and down slowly to comfort you. 

“my baby boy...” he said softly as he kicked open the roof access door, “ let’s go home.”

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “An Unknown Void.”

Hope you all enjoy your day today. 

The deep blackness of space surrounded him, or it seemed t, with the lights on the bridge dimed and the blast shield lifted from the wind screen, he could see nothing, well, there was the occasional star in the sky, but according to star charts, this place was supposed to be the darkest  in the known universe. 

He reached down and tilted the ship slightly to the side to give a better view for the onboard telescopes. Scientists had a theory that this place wasn’t nearly as dark as it looked. A couple thousand years ago the Hubble telescope had been turned towards the darkest portion of the sky they could see, and returned with the Hubble deep space images depicting thousands if not trillions of unknown stars that had been invisible to the naked eye and inferior ground telescopes. He expected to see the same thing here.

Adam was not himself a scientist, though he tried his best to keep informed and educated on as many subjects as possible. Partially It Was due to his overwhelming desire for self improvement, while another part of him, a more subconscious part of him had someone he desperately wanted to impress.

He reached down to open the comm line to the science division, “See anything?”

There was only a momentary pause before, “Give us just another minute sir. We are having to recalibrate the telescopes.”

“Oh, is something wrong?”

“We tried taking a picture but didn’t see anything. It was probably just a younger scientist who forgot to remove the lens covers. We should be good to go.”

There was a pause.

“That’s weird.”

“What?”

There was quiet for a long moment, “Sir, we are still seeing nothing. I think there might be some sort of malfunction….”

Adam shifted in his seat, “turn the telescope back behind us and see if it works in that direction.”

“Sir, how would the direction-”

“Just do it.”

There was another long, two minute pause before, “Sir…. the images are coming in and they look…. Fine…”

Adam wasn’t sure what to think, “His first instinct was to assume a blak hole or something was eating up all the light in the area, but blackholes were visible due to their event horizon, and their machines would have noticed the anomaly in gravitation even this far out.”

Then a thought struck him.

Had they reached the end of the Universe. 

No no obviously that wasn’t the case, There were plenty of known galaxies and stars all around them. It was just this narrow speck of the cosmos that didn’t seem to have anything. Somehow that thought made him feel slightly woozy. Adam had never been susceptible to Cosmic Schock, but even he didn't find the thought of an endless black void to be particularly comforting.

“I don’t like it.”

The voice in his head nearly startled him out of his sea, and he frowned in annoyance as Conn floated into view just outside the ship window.

Adam was about to say something scathing to the starborn bust stopped as he saw conn floated with his back to the window staring out at the vast blackness. He reached a hand back to absently touch the screen as if grounding himself against the void. Adam stirred uneasily as he felt Conn’s walls slip. Suddenly his own head was filled with a brimming uneasiness spilling over from Conn himself.

The sensation was strange and unsettling. Conn usually kept his emotions under close wraps, but to see him falter like that was more than strange.

He felt a shiver crawl up his spine.

The starborn had spent his entire life in the void of space, so to have him disquieted by something in space was enough to make Adam nervous as well.

He motioned to his navigation specialist, “Give me a rout back to the nearest star system. Conn, get inside.”

The starborn only hesitated for a few moments before doing as told and floating around the side of the ship..

***

The bright lights blinked on and then off.

They  tended to agree, something strange was going on. Their one large eye blinked once as more lights ran up and down the sides of their body. 

They stared through the analysis screen but the readout indicated absolutely nothing. There was no detectable UV light, or unknown radiation except for the constant radiation and background frequency that was to be expected in space. 

They turned the analysis screen back towards the beginning of the star field to make sure their machine was not simply malfunctioning. It had never done so before, but there was always a statistical likelihood that it might again.When the star field came into view, the screen suddenly erupted with a bright array of blinking lights all with scientific analysis ready for use. That was obviously strange, but they were sure that their equipment was now working. They were about to turn their attention back towards the dark field when something on the analysis caught their eye. It was a bright blinking light, much smaller than the rest but indicating that it was far closer. They zoomed in on that particular indicator and was suddenly pleased at what they found. The signature was familiar, a known mixture of nitrogen and oxygen inside an enclosed container run by fusion energy.

They turned over and floated back through the door and down the tight tunneled hallway.

Bright orange and yellow eyes blinked at them as they passed by the others, flashing their lateral lights in question. They would have answered the questions if the others if they were not hurrying to inform their comandante of their new neighbors

They floated through a hole in the ceiling, or floor as it might have been in any orientation ad met the comandante on the bridge.

They turned, “Zheyar, have you found anything.” Bright lights blinked up and down their body to indicate the question dimming and expanding at moments.

“The dark field is….. Still dark. I can get no readings from it, however it seems that we are not alone.”

Bright lights flashed down their body in response to the news, “Oh, lovely, is it anyone that we know.”

“I believe they are a member of the species we met in the ice field, the ones that put us in contact with the GA.”

There was another bright exchange of lights before the comandante made their decision, “We will have to greet them certainly.”

***

Adam was just prepping his ship for a short warp to the nearest star when their comms specialist suddenly bolted upright in her seat. She leaned forward for a moment pressing her headset against her head, “Sir, sir I have a signal… we are being hailed.” He sat up in his seat, “Way the hell out here. Analyse the signal and send it through.”

There was only a momentary pause before, “Sir, I… its transmitting like a Mike ship.”

Adam perked up, “Mikes! I love those big guys. Hold on, patch the through, and get the translation team up here as soon as you can, I’m gonna need those LEDs .”

It was only minutes later that he had the translation team up and running standing next to him and carefully placing illumination stickers up and down the sides of his body. The little LEDs would brighten and dm in connection with his voice in order to translate to the mikes. 

The screen before him lit up and he was excited to see one of them floating on screen before him.

He smiled, “It is a pleasure to see your kind again.” The little colorful dots brightened and dimmed up the sides of his body flashing in bright neons as he spoke. It was only slightly distracting, but he was pleased to speak to the mikes after so long of not seeing tem.

“It is you!” The creature exclaimed emphasizing its enthusiasm with even brighter light.

“I am happy to see you after such a long time. We had assumed you had returned to your home world.”

The mike flashed lights up and down its body. There was no translation so he assumed it was some sort of gesture like a shrug or a shake of the head would be for humans, “We are sorry that we coil not take your GA’s invitation for a visit, but we did have a deadline to consider. We do promise that our monarchs have taken the offer into consideration and will be sending a delegation soon. We are very pleased at the idea of joining your coalition, though we have had so many things to do as of late.”

Adam’s enthusiasm was picked up by the brightness of the LED stickers, “I am personally very excited to hear that. I had hoped that you would take us up on our offer.” he Tried to avoid using his hands too much knowing that the movement of his arms might obscure the lights, “It seems of an almost astronomical coincidence that we should run into each other. There must be a reason.”

“I assume that you are looking at the same piece of dead space as we are, tell me has your scientific equipment been abl to detect what ours have not.”

Adam shook his head, “I am afraid we are getting no readings from the space, though i daresay our equipment is far less superior in comparison to yours.”

The mike flashd a little, “Sometimes simplicity can outmaneuver complex machines, though I see that we are both lost on that particular subject.”

Adam nodded, “Then I propose that we work together for the time being, I supply manpower and technology?”

“It would be a pleasure to work with you, andI must say that you have found quite an ingenious way to speak our language. Yo wear them well.”

He laughed, “You flatter me. We should dock our ships together if you are willing.”

“The pleasure is ours.”

***

It wasn’t more than a few light minutes later when they had docked themselves with the human ship. The cargo doors opened and a waft of wind equalized the pressure between their two ships. The air on the human ship was just slightly heavier making them sink just a few inches towards the floor, though it was of no concern. The humans were waiting for them, standing against the ground, forced to hold up their entire skeletal structures against gravity. It must have been exhausting for them, and likely took a lot of energy.

Their original analysis of humans indicated that a human would have to eat multiple times a day in order to keep up the energy required to move, but these humans seemed bright and awake and likely well fed. Their leader was waiting for them wearing those bright LED dots in order to communicate as did everyone else who stood with him.

They were surprised to find other aliens with him, and were both eager and interested to examine the strange creatures. They floated forward and were met by the humans who bowed low. Another creature floated around the corner of the wall, and the mikes pulled back in surprise.

One of the Star children.

The human seemed to have noticed their surprise.

“You've met the starborn before?”

“On a few occasions,though we weren't aware they had friendly relations with…. anyone .”

The human twitched its upper body strangely before letting the gesture fall, “he i about as friendly as it gets and that’s not saying much.”

The entire group of them shivered lightly as a cold presence washed over them, “Don’t listen to him, he has a hard time admitting how much he loves me. We have a daughter together you know.”

The human’s head snapped to look over at the starborn two eyes narrowing, “Shut the hell up conn, that is not the first thing you need to bring up in front of the company.’

The LED lights on his body flashed bright green with his anger.

The Mikes watched in fascination.

One of the other strange creatures, taller than the human and with another set of limbs stepped forward to Examine the Mike. Its coloring was brightly colored and quite pleasant. It examined them while they examined her, and soon enough she was surrounded by a swarm of poking and prodding at her joints and limbs and strange carapace. They had never seen anything like it before.

The creature took it gracefully enough though their leader to apologize. They did enjoy learning about new things and new creatures. They were completely harmless of course.

The human waved a hand at the dogs on his sides and arms blinking, “Don’t worry, she’d be happy to assist your scientists. If you would please follow me, we can show you how ur ship works see if there is anything that you find useful.

In the end the two groups took tours of each other’s ships, shared as much scientific information as was possible and then began their conjectures about the dark space which they had come across. The Mikes could not penetrate it with any of their equipment and neither could the humans determine that there was really only one way to explore what lay beyond.

They were going to have to go there themselves.

It was suggested that they simply warp to the center of the darkfield, but that thought was quickly discarded as it involved far too much danger. The human offered to fly his ship slowly out into the abyss while the mikes tracked them to see if their signal was lost at any point which they decided was a good course of action if not very reckless.

They were soon to learn that humans tended to be reckless anyway, which both scared them and gave them no small measure of admiration.

They would soon learn quite a bit about humans.

Though both parties were unaware of a stirring in the darkness. A stirring that was well aware of their presence.

[kindahoping4forever]

Watch Me Bloom: A Few Hours Ago // Ashton Irwin

Here we are at the final installment! This section was honestly the driving force behind me deciding to write this whole thing - the night of the album release I was so inspired I told a handful of people about both this section and the fic as a whole, without knowing if I would ever follow through on it. I ended up writing it just to see if I could, unsure if I would even end up posting it. I’m glad I did and I hope you are too!

Thank you to everyone who has read and/or given feedback on the first two chapters - it really does mean a lot. Thank you to @ashtonangst for the real time reaction messages that are as equally entertaining as they are helpful. And like basically all of my work, this entire 10k+ monster of self-indulgence wouldn’t have been possible without the guidance, cheerleading and wisdom of @cal-puddies

Warnings: Boyfriend!Ash in fluffy, contemplative (and obviously smutty) situations. Weed smoking, oral sex performed on both a male and a female (perhaps simultaneously oop), unprotected sex within an established relationship

Word Count: 3534

Watch Me Bloom Masterlist

Masterlist // Taglist // Ko-Fi

Let  me  know  what  you  think!

You knew Ashton had been wanting to do something to commemorate the album release but you were still shocked to wake up to the sound of him hauling your suitcase out of the closet.

“Oh good, you’re up!” He giggles. “Think you can be ready to take off for a few days by the time I’m done with my interviews?”

You stare blankly at him for a moment or two and he offers another round of giggles before quickly explaining the arrangements he’d made for a desert retreat to thank everyone who helped him put his album together; he’s talking a mile a minute, describing the Airbnb he’d booked, the safety precautions he’d asked everyone to take, the plans he had for activities once everyone got there.

It’d be a lot to take in even if you hadn’t just woken up but you love when he’s excited like this, so animated and bright, you can practically feel the joy radiating from him. You promise to be ready after lunch and with a quick kiss, he’s rushing downstairs for a Zoom appointment.

The drive to Joshua Tree flies by, the two of you singing, chatting and generally thrilled to get out of town for the first time since lockdown started. Once you arrive at the rental, he practically yanks you out of the car to enthusiastically show you around the expansive property.

After briefly teasing him that of course he chose a getaway destination that offers a ‘hammock circle’ as an amenity, you wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze him tight. “It’s perfect, babe. I’m glad you’re gonna get a chance to unwind after all this, you deserve it.” You tilt up and he pecks your lips. “When do the others get here?” You ask, starting to pull him back towards the house.

Ash grins and pulls on your arm, bringing you back into him. “Friday.” For the second time today, you look at him in utter bafflement. He kisses your knuckles and earnestly explains, “I know I haven’t been very present for you and this whole thing couldn’t have been easy for you to deal with so I thought we could use a couple days together to kind of reset and reconnect.”

“Ash,” you pout, unsure of what to say. You’re overwhelmingly touched and all you can think to do is to throw your arms around his neck and hold him tight. He chuckles and wraps around you as well, the two of you swaying together for a moment.

The next couple hours are spent exploring the grounds, arranging for grocery delivery and unpacking your bags. After a quiet dinner, you follow him out to the patio to relax and enjoy the idyllic desert landscape. He pulls his long hair back into a bun as he settles in on a couch.

You get comfortable, sitting cross-legged next to him, while he unzips his backpack at the foot of the couch and retrieves a glass stash jar, a small grinder and a pack of rolling papers; he turns to you, raising his eyebrows and you nod enthusiastically.

He grabs the acoustic guitar sitting by the couch, flipping it over to lay in his lap as a makeshift table. You realize for a relaxing retreat, he hasn’t really sat still since you arrived and you decide to check in.

“So,” you start, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. “Couple days from now, people everywhere are gonna get to enjoy all your hard work. Hear everything you poured yourself into. How are you feeling?”

Ashton is focused on grinding the weed and his reply is brief and distracted. "I feel good, I feel ready. Probably the best I’ve felt about a release."

You’re unsatisfied with his easy answer so you press further. “Why’s that? Because there’s less pressure without the label? Or because it all belongs to just you?” You twirl your finger in the curls at the base of his neck, the ones he missed scooping into his bun.

He pauses, contemplating this time. “I mean, all of that feels great but I think I’m really just pleased with it because it was made with pure artistic intent… like, I’m not gonna gain anything from this. I didn’t have to make it but I needed to, you know?” He looks over at you expectantly to see if his point was made.

You nod and smile softly at him. Happy to be understood, he turns back to his task. You watch intently as he sprinkles the weed onto the paper, brow furrowing as he meticulously loads it with just the right amount. You always love watching him work and this was no different.

"I get what you're saying, babe… and I’m happy you’re feeling good about it,” you beam. “I’m so proud of you, Ash.”

He looks over and shoots you a toothy grin. You intended to continue, to keep him talking but you've become distracted by the way his long fingers look as he rolls the newly forming joint back and forth between them. When his tongue darts out to drag across the paper to seal it, you find yourself biting your lip, fascinated.

His voice interrupts your enraptured silence. “We can talk about something else if you want, you’ve been hearing about this non-stop for months now," he laughs, feeling around his pockets for a lighter.

“I like hearing your thoughts on things you’re passionate about,” you shrug, handing him the lighter off the coffee table. "Plus, it’s the reason why we’re here.”

Ash shakes his head as he turns the stick over the lighter's flame. “No, the album is the reason why everyone else is going to be here,” he insists. “The reason we’re here is different.” He lifts the lit joint to his mouth and takes a long drag.

“Right. Reconnecting. Resetting,” you parrot his earlier words breezily, watching the smoke pour from his mouth.

He scowls at your tone of voice. “I’m serious,” he says firmly, passing it to you. “This year has obviously been a lot but you really got the short end of the stick, having to deal with me.”

You look at him, puzzled. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about,” you comment, taking a couple hits. “Parts of the year have been good, parts have been shit but the silver lining to it all is that I’ve gotten to spend so much of it with you.”

He reaches over and rubs your thigh. “I invited you to live with me for the lockdown and then barricaded myself in a studio all day everyday. Going to bed by yourself every night, waking up alone, seeing me at meals only if Matt forced me to take a break that day. And you also had to put up with me during the CALM disaster and the tour getting cancelled… it’s been me, me, me. All the time,” he points out.

“Oh, you don’t think I’m used to that by now?” You joke, giggling at his mock-offended gasp. He lightly smacks your thigh in protest and snatches the joint back. “Seriously, babe. I didn’t put up with those things, I went through them with you. It’s hard for me to see you frustrated or upset about situations that can’t be changed. When you’re disappointed, I’m disappointed. So to see you be so excited about something? Your joy brings me joy. I wouldn’t trade that for all the late night cuddles in the world.”

“Baby,” he breathes quietly, pulling you in to rest at his side. You’re both quiet for a few moments, thinking about each other’s words, feeling each other’s presence. “I hope you know how sincerely I mean it when I say I would not have been able to do this without you. This album belongs to you too.”

“Oh yeah?” You look up at him with a twinkle in your eye. “So what’s my percentage, how much of a cut am I getting, Mr. Label Man?” You laugh at your joke, pulling from the joint he’s just handed back to you.

Ashton laughs heartily and scoffs, “Why do you think I started growing my own vegetables? We’re fuckin’ broke now, sweetheart.” He giggles as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever said.

“Well, you’re broke and out of work, I am currently still employed,” you playfully boast, gesturing with the cigarette for emphasis.

“Ohhh, that’s how it’s gonna be now?” He jabs over and over at your side and you dramatically yelp. “Do I gotta start calling you ‘Daddy’ now?”

You offer him a devilish smile and carefully get on your knees to straddle him. “Do you prefer the term ‘sugar baby’ or ‘kept man’?” You tease, placing the joint in his mouth before he can reply.

He runs his hands over your ass while he puffs away; holding the hit in his mouth, he moves a hand up to guide your face towards his. He presses his lips against yours and you open your mouth, allowing the smoke to transfer from his mouth to yours. You grind in his lap a little and he groans as he watches you tilt your head back and slowly let the smoke trickle out of your mouth.

After a few more shotguns back and forth, Ash quickly sets what’s left in the ashtray on the coffee table and buries his hands in your hair, crashing his lips into yours. You moan as he kisses you with an almost unreal intensity; his tongue feels like it’s melting into yours, his lips have never tasted softer or sweeter. His hands have slipped under the back of your shirt and his fingers are either icy cold or burning hot - you’re undecided but it feels incredible - as they trace tantalizing designs on your skin.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been making out - it could’ve been 10 minutes, it could’ve been 40 - when he states in a gravelly voice, “We need to get you inside and naked for me.”

You reply with a pleased sigh and attach your lips to his jaw, just below his ear; your face bumping against the coolness of his earring both distracts and delights you. You don’t realize you’ve been rocking relentlessly against his growing hardness until he firmly grabs your hips and rasps your name as a stern warning.

He lifts you off his lap and stands up from the couch. You don’t know whether to laugh or moan at the spectacle: eyes glassy from both arousal and blazing, lips swollen from slotting with yours, skin littered with your bitemarks. His hair is pulled halfway out of the bun, his shirt is unbuttoned all the way and the silk pants he’s wearing aren’t even trying to hide the tent that’s formed in them.

He pulls you up from the couch and right back onto his lips; you stand there on the patio for several more minutes, slightly swaying as you devour each other. You can’t remember the last time you felt this hungry for him; smoking together usually gets you both hot but this is next level.

By the time you finally pull away and breathlessly declare, “God, I swear I could fuckin’ cum like this right here,” he's got you down to your bra and panties and you’ve got one hand in his hair and one down his pants.

He nips at your neck a bit longer before separating from you and turning you towards the house. “Bed,” he commands, starting to gather up his things. You continue to linger and he swats at your ass to get you moving.

You set the mood when you get to the bedroom: opening the windows to bring in the cool night air, dimming the lamps, lighting some candles. You know he brought incense but you’re not sure where he unpacked it. Ashton slinks up behind you while you’re digging through a drawer and wraps himself around you.

“Why. Aren’t. You. Naked. Yet.” He complains, leaving wet kisses across your neck. You shiver as his fingers trail down your back before unhooking your bra and pushing it down your arms. You giggle as he tugs your panties down your legs right where you stand.

You step out of the underwear and let the bra fall from your arms, turning to him completely bare. “Your turn,” you lilt, lightly backing him up towards the bed, incense quest long forgotten. You laugh at how quickly he whips off his shirt before he lets himself fall onto his back on the mattress. You crawl next to him and as soon as you’re near enough, his hands are instantly playing with your tits; you take his pants down, licking your lips as his hard cock springs up against his stomach with a satisfying smack.

You stroke it where it lays, using just your thumb and index finger, finding yourself hypnotized as you watch your hand move, hear his breath get heavier, watch the first drops of precum appear at the head. His hand has made its way between your spread knees and he lazily drags his fingers through your folds, occasionally tapping against your clit; he’s barely using any pressure but in this moment, it feels incredible and you rock against him.

After a few minutes of mindlessly playing with each other, he reaches for your arm and gently pulls, wanting you to come closer to him; you lean in and even with his eyes half-closed, you note the fondness swimming in them. He cups your face with his hands and murmurs, “Love you,” just before he presses your lips to his. The noise of your sloppy kisses sounds almost musical to your stoned mind.

Ash moves his hand back to your center as you lean to peck down his chest, relishing the feeling of his skin shivering underneath you as you move down his torso. Again, you leave his cock on his stomach, giving the shaft a few sloppy kisses before taking his balls in your mouth.

“Baby… here,” he breathily directs you, gesturing for you to lay on your side while he turns onto his. He lifts your outer leg and rests his head on your other one; he sets your leg back down on the bed, bent at the knee, effectively creating a triangle of space allowing him access to your pussy. He moves closer and licks a stripe through your wetness to test, the resulting moan from you letting him know he’s spot on with his positioning.

You scoot closer to his crotch, reaching for his cock that’s now facing you, giving it a few strokes before guiding it to your mouth. You’re now deep in your weed and lust fueled haze so it takes you a few moments to wrap your head around giving a blowjob at this angle. The work he’s doing between your legs isn’t doing your concentration any favors so you buy yourself some time and stick your tongue out, tapping his cock on it before kitten licking over the head; you suckle at the tip while your fingers tease his shaft and you moan when you taste precum.

Ashton’s tongue darts in and out of your folds and he thinks to himself he should tell you that you’ve never tasted better but decides not to because he doesn’t want you off his mouth for even a second. He teases the tip of his tongue at your entrance and the way you jerk against him leaves him groaning; the vibration against you feels like tiny electric sparks shooting through your pussy.

You grip his ass, using it for leverage as you start to bob your head up and down on his cock; you move cautiously at first, still trying to navigate the position, but as you continue taking him, you realize how much you’re enjoying the slow pace. You swirl your tongue around him as you move, your heightened state making you appreciate every detail: the weight of him, the details of the veins and ridges on his skin.

You pull off with a pop and rub the tip over your lips before doing the same down his shaft; when you come back up, your tongue’s attention focuses on fluttering around the underside of the head. You feel Ash pull away from you and hear a “Just like that, baby,” muffled against your thigh as you take him down again.

He collects himself and dives back in, promptly sucking your clit between his lips. You whimper around his cock a few times before you have to let him slip out. Your brain tells you that you should let him know you’re getting close but your senses are so overwhelmed, you can’t find the words.

Ash knows your body and even his foggy mind can read the signs that you’re nearly there. He wraps his arm around your hip, trying to steady your unruly movements as he slows his work on your clit, edging you slightly.

You whine his name and even your own ears are surprised by how needy it sounds. You try to resume sucking him but your pleasure center feels like it’s in overdrive and you can’t make yourself focus. You rock your hips against his mouth, breathlessly conceding, “Gotta cum, babe… oh god, Ash, please."

His fingers dig into your thigh as he holds on while you writhe against him; his tongue ramps up on your clit, skillfully fluttering back and forth with voracity. Your legs shake around his head and your breath comes out in labored gasps as you climax; your pre-existing high melts into your orgasmic high and you lose yourself in it, unable to believe how many waves of sensation you’re feeling.

He licks at you until your tremors stop and then he’s carefully untangling himself and turning around so he can lay facing you. Your eyes flutter open when you feel him stroking your hair and you giggle at how adorably sinful he looks: curls askew, goofy yet lusty smile curling at his lips, face damp and shiny from your release.

You give him a soft kiss and then in what feels like one swift motion, you push him onto his back, lay yourself on top of him and slip him inside you. You unhurriedly move yourself on him, chest pressed against his, alternately pecking at or mumbling sweet nothings into his skin.

Ashton pulls you into a deep kiss and hugs you tightly to him, arms wrapping around you. He runs his hands over any skin he can reach, taking advantage of your closeness to create a tactile heaven for himself. He wonders if your pussy has ever felt so tight or warm around him; as if you can read his mind, you clench and he groans loud and long, hands moving to your ass.

His large hands grip your cheeks and you rhythmically rock against him as he lazily fucks up into you. The two of you murmur and moan at each other, neither of you particularly trying to express anything other than the total pleasure you’re feeling. Finally, his noises take on a different, more urgent tone, his hips begin to stutter and he whines your name as he cums inside you.

You lay in silence for what feels like hours but in reality can’t be more than a minute. He kisses the top of your head and carefully moves you to the side of him; he reaches over to the bedside table for some tissues and you watch reverently as he cleans the both of you up.

“I fucking love you,” you dreamily state, unprompted.

He giggles blissfully at your outburst as he settles back on the bed, opting to lay perpendicular, resting his head on your stomach. “Well, I fucking love you,” he beams, closing his eyes as you finger brush his hair. “You know, this is exactly what I pictured when I planned this whole thing.”

“The trip or the album?” You joke, stifling a laugh. “You know you didn’t have to make a whole ass album if you wanted to take me to the desert for a nice stone and bone, you could’ve just asked.”

Ash snorts and sits up to blow a raspberry on your bare skin. “You know what I meant.”

“Yeahhhh, I guess,” you tease. There’s a long silence before you muse, “I feel incredibly lucky to be with you during all this.”

“The trip or the album?” He laughs hard at his quip, crawling up your body once he sees the amused pout on your face. “Aww, baby, I’m the lucky one. Thank you for being here with me. For everything this year, not just the stuff worth celebrating.”

You offer a satisfied hum as he kisses you sweetly. He pulls back and raises an eyebrow to ask, “Have I made up for all those nights you were sleepin’ on the couch yet?”

"God… my back hurts just thinking about it,” you exaggeratedly grumble. He pokes at you and you snuggle into him. "Maybe you should light up the rest of that joint and persuade me a little more."

Ashton looks at you, eyes gleaming with admiration and amusement. "Deal."

————-

Taglist issues again so my apologies if you get notif’d more than once (or not at all)

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[barzzal]

hi! would you be willing to do a part 3 to the angsty dad! mat fic? i need a happy ending 🥺

read part one and part two here. also, i listened to gone gone gone by honne while writing 💞

theo’s laughter was all that you can hear as soon as you got out of your mom’s guest room.

it was over a week since you left mat. pretty much the same amount of time you have been dodging his calls. he tried coming over your workplace a couple of times but you managed to make your assistant turn him away. you were quite amazed that he’d even put an effort but you still needed time to think things through and so, you were thankful that your mom was kind enough to tell him you and theo weren’t in her house the first time he came over.

“good morning, mommy!” theo greets you enthusiastically with his mouth still full from taking a bite off his waffles. he effortlessly earns a smile from you as you bent down to kiss the top of his head.

“no talking while you’re chewing your food, young man.” you tell him, your little boy willingly submits to what was asked of him. you kiss your mom on the cheeks who was already sipping her morning coffee across from your son on the breakfast table.

“good morning, sweetheart.” she says, greeting you with a smile.

“guess who has called me thrice so early in the morning?” your mother suggestively looks at you whilst she reads her morning paper.

you didn’t want to assume that it was who you were thinking of so you just shortly give her a shrug before grabbing the pot to transfer coffee into your work tumbler.

“if running away worked with your dad, i wouldn’t have ended up marrying him, y/n.” your mom subtly reminds you, carefully choosing the right words so the little one wouldn’t pick up on what the two of you were talking about.

theo has been asking a lot about mat since the first morning you’ve spent at your mom’s. he wasn’t really used to not seeing his dad everytime he wakes up or goes to sleep. and you know, that as a child yearning for his father, theo’s bound to realize what happened between the two of you any time soon.

“ma, dad’s different. he’s a good father.” you remind her. knowing your mom, however, you should have known that she’ll just be throwing the same rock at you.

“and so is yours. that man just needs a little nudge.” she says, giving theo a glass of water when he was done savoring his first meal for the day.

“theo, baby, could you get your school bag now? we’ll be going in a bit.” you politely ask him. your son eagerly nods as he zooms off towards the guest room where the two of you have been staying for the time being.

when theo was far enough from hearing the two most important women in his life (exactly how your son worded it last night), you sit across from your mom and took the shot of listening on what she has to say.

“you’re supposed to be partners, darling. i really don’t get why you choose to team up against each other when everyone knows you’re far better off together.”

“mom, it doesn’t work like that.” you tell her.

your mother was quick to raise a brow at what you’d just said, “tell me how it works then.”

you scratch your temple at the growing uneasiness beginning to creep up your spine under your mom’s heavy gaze.

“he’s... he’s no longer the man i married. he wasn’t like this. and i–” your mom immediately cuts you off with a scoff, “and you think you’re still the woman he married? sweetie, the reason why there’s an awful lot of failed marriages out there is because they fail to remember one salient thing about keeping one.”

you were quiet for a while. admittedly wanting to hear the rest of what your mom was going to say.

“and what is it?”

“it’s not gonna be easy.” she says, eyes darting on yours.

“it’s gonna be a mess. but you and mat? i know you’ll be able to make it work. anyway, if you really think you’re gonna end up on that road, then by all means, do it. if you can picture yourself raising theo without him, i’ll be with you every step of the way.” she stands when the doorbell rings, starting to make her way towards where your son was currently at.

“could you get that for me, sweetheart?” she says motioning towards the front door, already receding into the hallway.

you stand and head towards the door. you didn’t bother to look through the peep hole for you thought your mom was just getting her parcel.

but as soon as you opened the door, what you saw was an anxious mat, running his hands through his hair, the other fidgeting on his waist, and his back turned against you, desperately wishing to see his wife and his son.

you were stunned to see him. even though he was wearing decent clothes, you could already tell just by how deranged he looked, with heavy circles present underneath his eyes, and the fact that he looks tired, you realize that this whole thing might be taking a toll on him worse than you could even imagine.

“y/n.” a quiet whisper escapes his lips. obviously surprised you were the one to greet him by the door when he was actually hoping to talk to your mom.

“what are you doing here?” you ask him, voice dead and cold.

“y/n, please.” he pleads, contesting with himself because he didn’t want to push you further over the edge. he knew that you didn’t want to see him, and even if it kills him, knowing that his son was inside that house kills him a million times more.

“please talk to me.” you avert his gaze and shake your head no but just as you were about to close the door, your son walks out the room and sees mat at the end of the hallway.

as he meets his father’s eyes, a gleeful look was all that’s painted on his little face, “daddy!!!” he squeals, running past you and straight into mathew’s arms.

mat was already over the moon at the sight of his young man. your grip on the knob tightens as you try to keep yourself together upon the sight unravelling before you.

“daddy, where were you?” theo begins to cry, his arms almost choking mat for clinging onto him a little too tight.

mat looks at you for a moment, silently asking for your approval. when you only break off from his gaze, he takes it as a yes.

“i... i’m sorry but daddy had to sort out some things, buddy.” he says once theo’s small and tiny arms lets go of his hold.

“hey, don’t cry.” mathew hushes, wiping theo’s cheeks with the back of his hand. evidently shattered for having to see his son this way.

“are you going to leave again?” theo sniffs and innocently asks, unconciously hitting a sensitive nerve between you and mat.

mat looks at you for a moment for he didn’t know if he still has to leave nor was he still welcome to come back. he didn’t want to step in so abruptly because he knows it’ll just be all too overwhelming for you. and he couldn’t let himself cause you much pain than he already has. but he also couldn’t let theo hang by a thread just because the two of you couldn’t work things out together.

“no.” he finally says. “not anymore.”

he wishes that you caught on what he really meant. he was going to make up for all the shit you had to put up with him. you have given him a glimpse of what his life would be like without you in it. he just couldn’t stand a day without you and theo, and he knew that if he’d continue being short of the man you married, it wouldn’t take long before you finally realize that you and theo are better off without him in the picture.

you take your son’s hands away from him, reminding him that he still had a lot to go through.

“sweetie, come on, we’ll be late for school.” you say in a tone that even sounded differently in theo’s ears.

“can daddy come with us?” he asks you, shyly tugging onto your skirt.

you only give him a forced smile, ruffling his hair as you hold his hand firmly, “no, baby, he still has some things to work out.”

theo’s face drops at what you said, but even then he was quick to plaster a smile and look back at his father. “daddy, will you come to my play on saturday?” he asks, arms already clinging onto mat’s neck as fast as he broke off from your hold.

“you’re in a play?” mat’s eyes widen at the thought of seeing theo on a stage, making you roll your eyes, something that’s definitely reminded you of why you were in this situation in the first place.

theo wildly nods, making mat smile from one ear to the other. “i’ll be there.”

once theo lets go of mat’s arms, you take him by the hand and begin treading your way towards your car, leaving mat alone as he watch his life walk away from him for the second time.

𖥸

you were already running late for theo’s play and you still haven’t got a hold of mathew. it was bad enough that you actually hoped he’d try to at least make an effort but now you’ll have to put up with another disappointment when you tell your son his own father couldn’t be bothered to come for his play. 

did you honestly think he’d give a damn?

you have never walked this fast all your life. the only thing that was going on in your mind was the image of your son, alone and scared as he peek through the curtains, only to find neither of his parents present for his event. you can’t possibly do that to a three-year-old. 

but frankly, mathew can. 

“mrs. barzal!” theo’s teacher came running towards you, wearing her warm smile as usual. 

“hi. i’m sorry i’m a bit late, where is theo?” you ask her, still panting and catching for breath.

“oh, don’t worry! theo’s already at the backstage with your husband.” she says, motioning towards the wide doors.

you thought you just misheard her so you ask just to make sure, “excuse me? what do you mean—” 

“theo came in with his dad an hour ago, ma’am.” she says, the two of you making your way towards the backstage. 

once you’ve set foot in the dressing room, you see your boys too immersed as they go over theo’s lines. mat was practicing along, mouthing every line theo utters. 

“show’s in about five minutes.” theo’s teacher excuses herself and goes on to do a final check on the kid’s routine. 

as you take in the scene before you, you can’t help but stumble in your steps, overwhelmed that mat finally kept his word this time.

you clutched your purse close to your chest when theo caught a glimpse of you, enough to make mat turn his head towards where you were standing. 

“mommy! you’re late!” theo reprimands, making you laugh a little. 

you make your way towards them, crouching to meet your son at eye level, “i’m sorry.” you coo, admittedly in awe of your son’s attire and costume. you pepper theo’s cheeks with kisses as an attempt to make up for the time you’ve spent working away from him. mat quietly smiles as he watches you and theo so close, yet still so far before his eyes.

you watched mat go over theo’s lines for the last time before theo’s teacher called the kids to huddle them up to get the show started. soon, all the parents were ushered down the stage and into your respective seats. 

“hey.” mat takes your hand for a moment before following the rest of the parents exiting the backstage.

he sighs, a little uncertain and afraid of what you might tell him afterwards but he just couldn’t take another day without you or theo in his life. 

he wants you back.

he wants you home.

he wants you.

“i’ll be better.” he sincerely says, fighting the lump he’s beginning to feel in his throat upon remembering the nights he had to endure without you in his arms.

“i know.” you reply, smiling genuinely as you entwine your hand with his, this time, letting him know that you’ll never let go. 

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Kismet {12}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Dialogue Heavy

Words: 4.2k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

Note: How are you guys liking the pacing of this story? I think this might be my slowest burn of all.  😬😬

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When one thinks of a vacation, you think of beaches, sand, salty ocean water that you can see right through, a blazing sun that is a joy to be burned by, tropical drinks, lounging by the pool in a hammock with an endless supply of bathing suits. When one thinks of the quintessential French vacation, you could think of waking up the smell of flowers from the countryside and the ocean salt, the warm caress of the sun as you sip your French coffee, lounging on the beaches, touring the countryside by day, feasting on the best authentic French cuisine, sipping the best of wine country offered all the while soaking up culture and relaxation. In other words, live like the French.

 Your vacation, though it started awkwardly, didn’t remain that way for too long. You and Henry had made it a mission to take relaxation and freedom to the max and, by doing so, you had created somewhat of a routine. Usually, either you or Henry would make breakfast and coffee then have it outside. After breakfast, you’d both lounge by the pool for an hour or two. That was before you found out he liked to work out first thing in the morning. Though you weren’t much for working out, you vowed to do it with him. which led to you having your coffee and then out for a run through the fields. He often went four miles out then four miles back, but when he realized you were not a runner, he cut it down to two and two. Even that was torture for you.

 Then once you’d returned and showered, whoever came out first would make a simple breakfast that you’d have out back and then to the pool. After you’d take a drive, often going miles and miles checking out neighboring towns seeing sights. On each day, Henry always had something planned. One day it was a tour of a vineyard where you learned all about the winemaking process, helped harvest grapes, and even did the traditional squishing grapes with your feet. That was the day Henry had the brilliant idea to play up your ticklishness, which led to you falling in the barrel staining your white shorts ensemble red. He laughed his ass off to that. By the time you left the vineyard, both of your outfits were ruined, but you had plenty of pictures and a crate of the wine you’d made.

 Another day it was sailing around the Mediterranean in a boat that Henry manned himself. You couldn’t help but watch in awe as he steered it like a pro and taught you the proper terms for things on the boat. When he’d found a good spot to drop anchor close to some rocks, you lounged on the hull soaking up the sun, then taking a dunk in the ocean when the heat became too much where you snorkeled around the reef. On a particular day, he took out a speedboat to St. Tropez for shopping and spa treatments that really had your entire body feeling like jello.

 While he liked to spoil you with luxurious options, he also liked the rugged things too. He taught you how to fish and took you on multiple nature walks. While you enjoyed nature, you realized you didn’t like it as much as he did. According to him, he would choose to be out in nature as often as he possibly could. You were slowly beginning to enjoy it as much as he did. A few times, you took him to a club where you saw firsthand that he was a real party boy in another life. You liked the club nights because it showed you a whole other side of him. The side that was carefree, able to cut loose and not take himself seriously. It was a side you made a silent vow to bring out as often as you could.

 To round out the experience, he did as the French and took advantage of France’s natural romance. There were plenty of romantic dinners at romantic restaurants that overlooked the ocean or the cliffs or the city lights and even a few at romantic vineyards with the view of the rolling hills and a sunset. The romance was not something hard to find, and it wasn’t always in going out. You spent plenty of nights in the villa lounging together with candlelight in the room and a gentle breeze wafting through the opened doors while watching something on tv together. While it was awkward before, you were becoming more and more comfortable around him. 

This comfort also helped you feel closer to him and though you teased each other often, said sly things to one another, and even flirted shamelessly, nothing else of significance had happened. Henry didn’t make any moves to kiss you or cuddle or even hug you, really. The most he’d done was hold your hand at the most sporadic moments, for the shortest amount of time. It made no sense, and it drove you crazy because you could feel the attraction between you in everything you did. You could sense the desire in the air was strong, but everything remained lukewarm.

 Though your comfort level rose, your insomnia never subsided. When Henry had gone to bed, you often remained up just writing music, journaling, or making things with the pictures you’d taken throughout the day. Your sleepless or low sleep nights gave you the chance to either reformulate your plan or think about your progress. A lot of times, thinking about the progress had you thinking about him, and if you did that, it was only a matter of time before your mind drifted to your want for him.

 It was funny to you that before him, you could push affection, intimacy, and sex to the side and act like they were not even actual things, and it never bothered you or had any effect. Since Henry, it was damn near impossible. You thought about his touch at every turn, about his lips more times than you could count, and imagined him between your thighs at least once every other day.

 One night it had gotten so bad from remembering him swimming in the pool in slow motion. Everything he did was in slow-mo like he was posing for some men’s porn magazine. That was the night you had to please yourself to thoughts of his wet lips, memories of his voice, and body as it moved through the water and muscles as he hoisted himself up out of the water with it dripping off of every inch of him. that night, it was the quickest you’d ever come. You wondered if he was struggling the way you were, but throughout the days, you saw no evidence he was, and that made you more insecure than you’d ever felt in your life.

 ~~~~~~~~~

-Nine Days Later-

 The night was young—well, young for you. While Henry slept, you found yourself in the back yard with the breeze brushing against your bare skin. The glow of the moon beamed down on you, bathing you in its pearlescent illuminance, making you feel like a goddess of the night. It could have been the moon, the fact you were naked under it, or the 2nd bottle of wine you were on. It didn’t matter what it was; you felt good. The wine made your thoughts flow more freely, and where your thoughts went, your pen in your notebook mapped. You got your best writing done at three in the morning when you were naked and feeling wine-nice.

 With your pen hooked on your bottom lip, you looked over the new lyrics you’d written for a song that Henry had inspired. The notebook was filled with at least ten more from the same muse. This song was the night’s second one. The first centered around your anxious thoughts about making the first move and how to do it in a way with little to no risk, and your worries of being in the friend zone the second was drastically different. This one focused on you admitting your attraction, the possibility you were falling for him, and your fear of him making you feel out of control. It was raw and real, the realest you’d been in a long time when it came to your feelings.

 The words across the page were sensual and painted a clear picture of arousal and desire. As you hummed to yourself the way you imagined it flowing, you began replacing your hums with words. You quickly got lost in your process and zoomed through putting everything down on paper. Once your brain sparked off, it never stopped until it finished the mission.

 “Aliya?”

 You turned to the sound of Henry’s voice, forgetting your state of undress. Almost immediately, you gasped and grabbed the blanket holding it to your breasts.

 “Shit.”

 Henry was already turned away, his back facing you.

 “Um--.”

 “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. God, I—shit.”

 Henry snorted then slowly released a breath in a loud huff.

 You rearranged the blanket then spoke, “You can turn around.”

 Slowly and cautiously, Henry turned to you again. With your lips pressed together, you gave him your best apologetic face.

 “I’m so sorry. I thought you were asleep. I didn’t think you’d come out here,” you explained.

 Again, Henry snorted then chuckled to himself as he nodded his head. You were so embarrassed that you covered your face.

 “I’m sorry,” you whispered one last time.

 “No need for sorries,” Henry began trying not to make eye contact. “It’s um—it’s okay.”

 The awkwardness had returned.

 “I didn’t see anything. Don’t worry.”

 You didn’t believe him one bit but pushed any remaining awkwardness deep down and fought through it.

“Don’t you sleep at all?”

“Not really. Remember, insomniac.”

 “I know you said that, but usually insomniacs can manage something,” Henry said.

 “Um, well, since I was diagnosed, I can on occasion get three or four hours tops.

 “Wow. We’ve been sharing this house for a little over a week, and I didn’t know that much.”

 You smiled and took another sip from your glass. “You’re off the hook, you actually sleep, and it’s great.”

 “How long have you had it?”

 “Since I was maybe eighteen,” you explained.

 “So what do you do when you’re not sleeping?”

 After finishing your glass, you moaned and leaned back in your chair. “Walk around, find a good spot to sit, write, sometimes go for a drive, online shop, work. Usually, it is mainly work,” you confessed.

 Henry gave you a stern daddyish look. “Are you working now?”

 You bit your bottom lip and scrunched your face. “Guilty but only sort of. I’m writing music. That’s not work for me. For me, it’s a component for my sanity.”

 Henry nodded. “So you sit up all night naked writing music?”

 The way he put it had you laughing out loud.

 “Wow, pretty much. Fuck, when you sum it up like that, you make me sound like an insomniac exhibitionist.”

 You laughed together for a few short moments. “Can’t they prescribe something?”

 “They have, quite a few things actually. When I was eighteenish, I was on several sleeping pills. I was the guinea pig, and I must have tested at least twenty brands and formulas, but none of them seemed to work well with me. Of course, they had to monitor my intake to make sure I didn’t become addicted, but after a few years, I said, forget it let’s not try anything anymore. I just stopped taking the pills and sucked it up,” you clarified.

 Henry looked impressed. “So you function on three hours of sleep?”

 “Pretty much.”

 He whistled then bowed his head. “Wow.”

 “it’s not bad. Honestly, it might be a blessing in disguise. I get so much work done they wouldn’t believe.”

 “You literally make money while others sleep,” Henry joked.

 You softly snickered and nodded.

 “Do they know why it started?”

 He was asking all the right questions, you thought to yourself.

 “Yeah, we know.” You really didn’t want to say anything else, and you had a mini internal fight. Groaning, you continued. “Trauma.”

 You could feel his eyes on you, and you rearranged your things on the table and picked off invisible lint off the blanket, all in an effort to not look at him. Though you were physically naked, you felt emotionally so as well. Taking a risk, you glanced at him and held his gaze. He was unreadable.

 “Here,” Henry said, holding out a spoon to you.

 “A spoon? What’s this for?”

 Henry smiled and took a step toward you. “Close your eyes.”

 You scoffed and wrinkled your nose before you closed your eyes and waited. You didn’t hear anything and wondered what he was doing.

 “Uh—hello? Henry, are you there?”

 The sound of Henry clearing his throat told you he was in a different location that was somewhat closer.

 “I’m here. Open.”

When you did, you looked around expecting something but not sure just what. When your eyes landed on the ice cream before you, you smiled.

 “For your massive sweet tooth.”

 You couldn’t help but giggle. He’d learned a few things about that sweet tooth over the last week. This was him being cute about it.

 “This Is my favorite flavor and brand. You don’t play, huh.”

 “Of course not. I pay attention.”

 “Thank you.”

 Henry nodded, then pulled another spoon from behind him. “Cheers?”

 You knocked your spoon against his and said the same thing. Henry sat beside you while you opened the ice cream, then both of you dug in. the first spoonful had you moaning so loud it echoed around you.

 “That good?”

 “Mmmm, so good, better than sex,” you joked.

 “Then I am sorry, Ms. Taylor, you are having sex with all the wrong ones.”

The spoon paused at your lips as you quirked your eyebrow at him. Henry wasn’t backing down, though. He held your gaze almost like he was challenging you. Damn, you thought before you looked away first.

 “So you write all your own songs?”

 Nodding, you put another spoonful of ice-cream in your mouth. “All by myself.”

 “Impressive. I know artists try, but not a lot do it alone. There will usually be a few co-writers,” Henry added.

 You were a little surprised he knew that. “You’re right. More and more try to get on it for the added profits that being a writer brings in. for me, I do it for far more selfish reasons.”

 Henry quirked his brow, silently asking you why.

 “I need an outlet, something to get everything in my head out. I’m up for twenty to twenty-one hours a day, and I have a lot going on in there. So, I need to be able to get that out to start fresh the next do, that means---I write.”

 The way Henry’s eyes rested on you made you feel like he had so much to say, but he was holding back with doing so.

 “It’s good to have an outlet.”

 “What’s yours?”

 His goofy smile made a return, and you couldn't help but smile back.

 “Don’t judge me, okay, but it’s video games.”

 You smiled and raised your hands. “No judgment here, ever.”

 “I like video games, Warcraft, Witcher, Call Of Duty, HALO. Anything bloody, I’m there for it. I also use exercise a lot. I have to work out, have to.”

 “Have to?”

 Henry took another spoonful of ice cream and sighed out. He looked like he was thinking about something, and you gave him the time needed.

 “Yeah, when I was a kid, I was heavy--,” he began sighing. “I was a fat kid, and it meant I got teased and bullied a lot. My nickname was fat, Cavill.”

 “Oh no, that’s horrible.”

 “Yeah, plus I was at private school. Let’s just say—it was hard, really hard. I had some dark times, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t stick with me some even to this day.”

 You bit your bottom lip, reached your hand out, and rested it on his knee. Your heart sank thinking about what he’d gone through. You knew how painful words could be, especially as a child. “I’m sorry. Kids can be such assholes.”

 Henry snorted and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “They sure can.”

 “Plus, I could tell working out is a joy for you. I’m not blind, and neither is the female population of the world and some of the male.”

 Henry’s laugh was unexpected but welcomed all the same. You liked his laugh, and the more you heard it, the more it was becoming one of your favorite sounds.

 “Seriously though, I’m sorry you went through that. I know it couldn’t have been easy to work through.”

 He looked down at your hand that was still on his knee and nodded before he cleared his throat.

 “You mentioned you’re close with your grandmother?”

 Taking your hand back, you rearranged the blanket again and nodded. “I did. Yeah. She’s my mother’s mother, and she is—she’s my world.” With a soft smile on your lips, you quickly went through your fondest memories with her.

 “I don’t think it’s healthy to depend on her as much as I do, but--.” You shrugged. “She helps me with so much, like being forgiving, being more open, being a better person in general. She gets me and doesn’t judge me or make me feel like something is wrong with me. In her eyes, I’m—Corrin, my middle name, and it’s great. All the pressure I constantly carry around is gone.”

 Talking about how much your gramaw meant to you made you emotional, and the sting of tears in your eyes told you just how emotional you’d gotten.

 “That’s great to have at least one person in your life that can do that for you. you’re lucky.”

 “Yes, ha, she’s—uh, she’s the reason I’m here,” you confessed. Henry looked very interested to know what you meant.

 “How so?”

 “She uh, she just reminded me of a few things and pointed some other things out to me,” you said, giving him the CliffsNotes version. You could tell it wasn’t going to cut it, though, so you continued. “She pretty much made me think from a  different perspective, the one that I was desperately trying to ignore.”

 Henry still looked interested, but he nodded. “I have to thank her because I’m glad she changed your mind.”

 You studied him for a little while as you put another spoonful into your mouth. “Are you?”

 Henry didn’t look away or give way to any emotion on his face. He just nodded. “Yes. I’m glad you’re here.”

 You didn’t see any indication that he was lying or stretching the truth. You did notice that the pull between you was still there. Henry was the first to look away this time, and the two of you continued to share the half-gallon container of ice cream while chatting. He told you more about his private school days and painted a clearer image of what he was like as a boy, and the image you got was absolute adorableness and tenacity.

 By the time you both walked back inside, two hours had passed, and the beginning of the sunrise was peeking out behind the mountains. You stood in the long hall that separated your room from his clutching the sheet wrapped around you and your notebook.

 “So, in the morning—or a few hours we’ll catch a flight out,” Henry confirmed.

 “Still won’t tell me where to?”

 Henry smiled, rubbed the back of his neck, and shook his head. “You don’t like surprises, do you? This is the fifth time you’re trying to pry it out of me.”

 You pinched your lips then groaned. “No, no. It’s not that I don’t like surprises. I love surprises—well, good ones. I just like to know every detail. I like--.”

 “Being in control,” Henry finished, hitting the nail right on the head. You knew it was the loss of control that was making you antsy.

 You closed your eyes and slowly breathed out.

 “Yes. I guess I might have a control problem.”

 Henry looked very amused. “Might?”

 The two of you laughed together, and you couldn’t believe the call out.

 “Shut up.”

 “It’s okay. I get it. I like control too, a whole lot, and I don’t usually like when control is taken from me, but I’ve gotten better with it. Now, I won’t die if my control is taken. Then—it felt like it.”

 You nodded at yet another thing you had in common. It was becoming more than you could count on your fingers.

 “Good for you, but I—I might die.”

 Henry laughed again, this time not with you, at you.

 “I’m going to make you a promise. By the end of this vacation, you will be better at giving me control,” Henry said, his voice so deep and commanding that your spine tingled. When the tingling traveled around to your gut and moved downward, you clutched the sheet tighter.

 “Oh, will I?”

 He smirked; it was a cocky one. “Yes, you will. I don’t break promises. Never have.”

 Your eyes locked, and that tingling intensified, making your lady parts beg for some attention. He was downright captivating, and it was so hard staying on your side of the hall.

 “All you have to know is that I won’t abuse my control. You can trust that. You can trust me.”

 You almost made the yikes face hearing the T-word. You knew he remembered you saying that trust was a tricky thing for you, and you also knew this was probably a test. You were in between a rock and a hard place. After sighing out, you spoke.

 “Okay.”

 “But, you do have to say these five words, though,” Henry said with a smirk.

 “What?”

 “I—relinquish—control—to—you.”

 With every word, his voice got deeper and deeper, his eyes more and more focused on you. It was so easy to get lost in them, and he must have known it.

“Uh—no. I can’t say that.”

 “Sure you can. I know it’s not easy, but I promise you will not regret it.”

 Your nose flared, heart raced, mouth went dry, all points of your anxiety. You hated feeling backed in a corner, and you hated giving away your control even more.

 “Will you relinquish control to me?”

 With a grin, he spoke, “I will.”

 “When?”

 “One day,” Henry said, that grin still on his face.

 Of course he’d say that you thought. “How about, I will try,” you appeased.

 “Nope. Not good enough. I want it all, Aliya.”

 You groaned and ruffled your curls, still clutching the sheet with one hand. He was not going to let up.

 “God, Henry.”

 He didn’t say anything, just waited. He didn’t even look pressed like he was worried you’d say no. He looked confident, commanding, and in complete control, and it called to you. There had never been any other man who you’d ever thought about giving control to. None of them felt like him. He felt different.

 “I,” Henry perked up but kept his eyes firmly on yours. another thing you loved about him. “Relinquish—control,” you paused again, feeling the full weight of the words you were going to release. You weren’t just saying that you were giving him control to make the decisions. You were giving him control, period. That was when the panic picked up. “Control to,” you rolled your eyes then hissed. “You.”

 The silence stretched, but the longer it went on, the less anxious you felt. Yeah, there was some residual panic lingering, but the look in his eyes only comforted you.

 “Thank you. I know how hard that was for you,” Henry softly said.

 You looked down and took a shaky breath. “You have no idea.” When you looked back at him, he was still staring at you. “Okay. Well, good night, Henry.”

 “Good night, Aliya.”

 A visible shiver ran through you, but you ignored it and turned around to walk to your bedroom door. After a few steps, you stopped and smiled as an idea formed. Instead of walking forward, you turned around and walked back to him. Once close enough, you tiptoed, threaded your fingers into his hair at the nape of his neck, then pulled his head down to yours. It was then you pressed your lips to his.

 From the second your lips touched, it felt like you’d been standing out in the rain and gotten hit but a lightning bolt. Your moan was loud, and once it slipped out, Henry grabbed you, pulled you flush against him, and held you there. The hand on your hip squeezed while his right hand sneaked around your back to press his palm against your tailbone. That was when you realized you wanted more—a lot more. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, then nibbled, sinking your nails into his curls. You were second away from dropping the sheet, so you pulled back, grasping to the fraying threads of your self-control. Henry’s eyes were still closed, giving you a few extra seconds to admire his beauty. He still had the same effect as the first time he’d kissed you. 

 “Good night, Henry,” you said again, pecking his lips once more before walking away again.

 Though you’d given relinquished control, you just took a little of it back. It felt good.

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

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[sungie]

stray kids reaction: comforting your zoom anxiety

a/n: sorry these have been so angsty lately but this is just something i struggle with now a lot w/my anxiety and thought maybe this could help some of you who are going through the same thing rn xx

also i’m so sorry i spent hours trying to get the read more option to work but it wouldn’t :’( if anyone has any tips feel free to let me know

chan

chan walks past your spot at the table and immediately falters when he notices you staring numbly at your laptop screen.

he crouches down to try to meet your gaze, and then, worried at how your bottom lip starts to tremble, gently tilts your chin up to face him.  “(y/n)? what’s going on?”

you just shake your head, trying not to meet his gaze

chan’s not an idiot; something’s obviously wrong

because despite how much you try to hide things, chan knows. he just knows that you won’t tell him what’s going on, and a lot of it is because you want so much to be strong and not feel like such a burden (which you could never, ever be, chan loves you to the end of the world and back)

and he also knows you beat yourself up for mistakes so much worse than anyone, always obsessively focusing on self-perceived flaws for days.  weeks, even. 

so when he happens to notice the zoom launch page, realization floods across his face.

“oh, baby, no.  come here” 

chan wraps you in his arms, gently closing your laptop with one hand and guiding you from desk to couch where you nestle your head into his chest

“i’m so stupid, chan,” you whimper, bringing your hands up to cover your face. “why am i like this?” 

it hurts chan to see you like this

he wants more than anything to make everything better, but he knows these things take time and you need time

“you mean, why are you so talented, and beautiful, and dedicated?  i don’t know, babe.  you just are.  i’m not surprised, though.” 

“i’m such a screw up.”

“you know, (y/n), i promised i wouldn’t let anyone talk to you like that,” chan murmurs, “not even yourself.”

you look up at chan with wide eyes

“i know it’s hard, baby.  i know it’s scary, but i’m so proud of you for getting through it.”

chan just wants to pamper you for the rest of the day, and more often than not, the two of you will cuddle together and end up falling asleep for a few hours, tangled together on the couch until you’re ready enough to talk things out. 

- -

minho

minho’s brow raises when he sees the door to his room crack open, and he watches as you barrel towards him, collapsing onto the bed next to his legs.

he doesn’t think anything of it, not really. 

well, maybe he’s just a little disappointed that you didn’t come to cuddle and rest your head next to his chest, because minho won’t admit it, but he’s a simp for your cuddles

but then, a few seconds later, he notices you’re trembling. 

and all too soon, he realizes with horror, that the way you’re huddling toward him isn’t out of comfort, oh no, not comfort. 

minho sits up immediately and looks over to see you curled up in the fetal position with your eyes shut, your arms wrapped tightly around your legs

minho murmurs a worried, “babe?”, and he feels his heart break as your eyes open and fill with tears

“it doesn’t get better. i’m never going to be normal.”

minho gently pries the phone out your grasp because it’s only making you feel worse, and he’s about to close all your tabs until he notices what’s on the screen: articles about anxiety, coping mechanisms, how-to’s for speaking up, not freezing up, how to hide fear -- and his heart breaks.

minho gets up for a moment, taking your phone to place it on the nightstand.  and when he leaves the room and comes back a minute later with soonie in his arms, he gently plops her down onto your hip and then sits cross-legged beside you, his eyes sad and his head propped in his hands 

“you can talk to me, i’ve got you.”

and you let all the words fall out. 

afterwards, minho wraps a knit blanket around your form and tells you, quietly, that you’re the most special person in the world.

“more than your cats?” you manage to joke weakly, cracking the faintest smile.

a relieved smile immediately tugs at minho’s lips and the way he looks at you makes  you feel like the luckiest person in the world.  “you’re feeling better,” minho whispers, half to himself, half to you, and then he lets his gentle smile curve to a teasing smirk.

and like a brat, he says, “i said person.”

you whine and softly poke his cheek, but minho leans over you to press annoying kisses all across your face with the most loving expression

“yah, (y/n), of course you’re more special than my cats, my god”

changbin

you already know the routine by now

you’d texted changbin in midst of your online class with your signature emoji that means: please help i can’t think everything’s too much

and as soon as it’s over changbin’s here with a sympathetic expression and a sheepish shrug, holding a heavy pillow out a safe (and far) distance in front of him

“wanna let it out?” 

you nod, shakily, and they you step up to the pillow and start slamming your fists into the pillow, words flying from your mouth about how annoying your brain is and how much you hate this and your blows weaken and your words jumble together until changbin lets the pillow lower and he welcomes you into his arms

he runs his hand against your back and just stands and holds you for a while, rocking you back and forth 

“i hate this so much, bin”

“i know, baby. i know.” 

he knows that sometimes physical contact helps bring you out of your mind

and so he’ll gently take your face in his hands and caress your cheeks with his thumbs

“it’s over, now.  you did it, baby.”

he finds you so beautiful and often loses himself for a few moments because you’re such a special person and he hopes you know that you mean the world to him

if you want to talk about it, he’s got you 

and the two of you will cuddle on the couch for as long as you need and talk or watch videos together or eat food

or sometimes you just want to be alone, and changbin will press a kiss to your forehead and let you recharge

and as soon as you’re ready to come out, he’s always got your favorite meal or takeout from your favorite restaurant

and the smile that crosses his face when he sees you makes everything feel just a little bit better

hyunjin

hyunjin doesn’t quite understand how you get so nervous, but he wants to help so bad.

he hates seeing you shut down, and it hurts him to witness the moments when you retreat back into your mind

because you’re such a beautiful soul, and he just knows the thoughts that rage through your head are anything but kind

hyunjin sees this happen on a daily basis, and each time he does, he wishes he could make it better.

today’s been especially bad, with zoom call after zoom call, and he can see the circles under your eyes and the exhaustion and terror written all across your face

he peels off a post-it note and gently sticks it onto your hand, out of view of the camera

“is this an important class?” it says. 

you turn to him, indiscreetly nodding your head

hyunjin’s face falls. because if it wasn’t, he would all too quickly turn the video off your screen and let you fall into his arms, pulling you away from the laptop to cuddle and watch something to take your mind off it.  

you’re just pushing yourself so much, and hyunjin knows you need to rest

but instead, he comes back a few minutes later, holding a plate of sliced fruit and vegetables arranged by color to look pretty and cute

and he slides that next to your laptop and comes back with a mug with your favorite warm drink

there’s a post-it on this, too. “i love you, and you’re doing great, okay? you’ve got this baby <3 <3 <3

it makes you tear up, a little. 

after you’re finally done, you find hyunjin and hug him so tightly 

“how’d you know?” 

hyunjin just gazes at you softly, nuzzling his nose against yours

“you did it, baby. you should be proud of yourself”

all you can do is hug hyunjin tighter as you start to tear up from relief, nerves, comfort, and hyunjin himself 

“i love you.”

jisung

jisung understands all too well the feeling of anxiety

and whenever he notices that you’re upset, even if he’s not feeling all too great, it’s like that anxiety loophole where all his anxiety goes away as soon as he realizes that you’re in pain 

really, all jisung wants to do is comfort you and make sure you’re feeling as okay as possible -- everything else goes away, only you. 

he gets it, really gets it, when you tell him in tears that you can’t take another discussion over video call which ends in you sitting in silence and regret for not saying anything

“people probably think i’m mean and dumb, jisung,” you choke out, “and i’m not! but i … i don’t even deserve to be there.  they see right through me.  i’m like, a fraud.”

jisung’s heart physically breaks at this, because you’re not.  you’re really, really not.  anything but. 

“no, baby.  you do deserve to be there.  you said it yourself, you’re not dumb.  you’re not mean.  but you’re dealing with anxiety, baby, and that makes everything so much scarier.”

jisung also knows that nothing he says can make it better, but he also knows that you need to get out of your head.

he drapes a blanket around your shoulders and gently pulls you up from the couch, telling you that the two of you are going to explore

jisung drives around the city for a couple hours, and he gives you control over the aux and lets you listen to all your favorite songs -- but sometimes even that’s too much, so he’ll put on shuffle the playlist that the two of you have made together for nights just like this.

there’s always something calming about getting lost in the city for the night, watching the neon lights reflect against the windows as you lose yourself in the music and the dark and the feeling of drifting away from any sort of responsibility and tie to real life.

just you and jisung; the two of you against the world.

jisung does his best to help you forget when that’s what you need.  he pulls into a drive through and orders an order of fries, cheerfully feeding them to you when you reach red stoplights.  and then he stops at a boba place that’s empty and still open for another hour, or so, and comes back with both your favorite drinks.  and then jisung is telling you stories about anything, everything

jisung makes you smile and laugh, and each time you do, the expression that crosses jisung’s face is full of such relief and love

and when you start making your own jokes and telling your own stories, a familiar light entering your eyes, jisung can’t look away and feels his heart mend back together

later, when the two of you come back home and collapse into bed, you tumble over and rest your head against jisung’s chest, feeling safe and loved when he presses his lips to your forehead and holds your hand

“do you think it’ll get better?” you whisper, finally ready to talk about what happened 

jisung presses a tender kiss to your knuckles.  “i know it will.”

felix

trust me, felix knows all too well the exact regret you’re describing 

when you tell him in hysterics about not being enough and not being able to be present even though you wanted to so bad -- he gets it. 

you don’t even know how to describe it.  you just couldn’t, and that made it so worse. 

but felix just nodding and gazing at you with acceptance and understanding makes you feel so safe

because felix is always one thing with you when you’re upset and anxious, and that is gentle

but he also clearly sees the way you answer in short responses when he asks you about it, and how you look so uncomfortable

felix knows whenever he gets like this, he needs to get out of his head 

so he takes your hand and guides you to the kitchen, smiling brightly at you

“let’s make something.”

if you’re ever too overwhelmed, felix will do everything for you and come to your room to drop off a plate of dessert and check in and see how you’re doing

but if you’re okay with doing something, felix is that happiest boy ever

you welcome the distraction and help felix find all the mixing bowls, and he grabs the carton of milk while you grab the sugar from the cabinets

felix takes a finger of flour and smudges a small dot on your cheek 

“there, freckles” 

and you smile weakly and smudge a stripe against his cheek 

every so often felix will rest his head on your shoulder and wrap his arms around your waist 

he doesn’t bring up what happened earlier because he knows you hate thinking about it, but when you do finally decide to talk about how you feel, it’s usually while the two of you are waiting for dessert to come out the oven 

and felix just listens patiently with genuine concern and focus and doesn’t interrupt you at all until you’re done 

at times like this, felix really thinks about what to say 

and when he does finally speak, it makes you feel so much better

like someone actually sees you and your struggles

but then he’ll do something like accidentally knock over the bowl of leftover egg white or accidentally catch his sleeve in a spill on the table

but it’s okay because you love him

and he really does manage to make everything feel just a little bit better

seungmin

the silence was the first indication something was wrong.

because your relationship works on easy, witty jabs toward each other that always end in laughter and amusement, wildly chasing each other around the apartment and collapsing in cuddles and playful pokes on the shoulder

but this time, when seungmin teasingly mentions that the phone is your achilles heel after you ask him to order the take out, he’s met with stony silence, an unresponsive face, and then: “that’s not funny.”

seungmin’s face falls immediately.  he knew something was wrong as soon as he noticed the blankness unfold on your expression, and he steps forward carefully, his eyes softening.  “i’m sorry.  that was mean of me.”

when you don’t reject to him coming closer, he steps toward you again, kneeling down to where you are and gazes at you with concerned eyes.  “did it happen again?”

you finally look up at seungmin, the first trace of emotion peeking through the heavy mask as you nod.  “it’s just so stressful.”

seungmin regards you carefully and nods, prompting you to keep going. 

“i hate seeing myself on screen,” you mumble, laughing tonelessly in attempt to keep things casual.  “i just smile and nod, and … i can’t read nonverbal signals, minnie.  i don’t even know when i can talk --”

you stand up and start pacing back and forth, your hands scrunching up your face and pulling at your hair.  “i don’t know why i feel like this, and i can’t stop thinking, seungmin, i hate it so much.”

but seungmin walks into your path and gently takes your hands in his, squeezing your palms gently. and then he tenderly opens your fists up, tracing little hearts on your palms and the pads of your fingertips.

“i wish i were like you,” you whisper.

“you already are,” seungmin says, instead.  “everything i am, you’re that and more.”

“i’m not capable.”

seungmin gently squeezes your hands again, this time tracing circles against your knuckles.  “i think if anyone’s capable here, it’s you.  you’re fighting this thing every day, (y/n).  even if you don’t see it, i see it.  i see you, and you’re capable.  more than.”

your mouth drops a little, and you stare at seungmin with wide eyes.  and then, “what?”

seungmin just smiles, shaking his head.  “what?”

“i’m sorry i got mad at you.”

seungmin shakes his head, letting your hands drop as he pulls you into a hug.  “don’t be.”

“i liked that thing you did with my hands,” you murmur into his shoulder, “it helps me not think.”

and this time seungmin presses kisses to your fingers

and he’s just so gentle with you 

afterwards when you stop shaking, seungmin doesn’t forget that you still need to eat, so he orders takeout, or you do if you want to try and he’ll hold your hand and just be there, and then the two of you will watch something on his laptop and then finally fall asleep together at the table

jeongin

“isn’t your class starting now?” jeongin mumbles with a sleepy voice, rubbing his eyes and placing a mug of your favorite drink next to your hand

you just shrug, mouse hovered over the link to take you into zoom call 

jeongin furrows his face, then blinks. he does a sort of double take, eyes flickering from the time (he knows your schedule by now), the hesitation of your expression, the clear tension in your shoulders and the slight tremor of your fingers. 

“oh,” jeongin’s voice whispers.  

he takes a seat at the table beside you, eyes relenting, a concerned expression encasing his mannerisms.  “it’s okay to be scared, (y/n)”

you swallow, not quite trusting yourself to speak, your throat already tight and unstable 

“(y/n) … if you’re not feeling good we can call in sick and tackle it tomorrow. you don’t have to do it today if it’s too much.”

you shake your head.  “no,” and then, biting your lip, “i just … don’t want to join, innie.  what if he calls on me?  and i won’t know the answer, and everyone will laugh. and he’ll make fun of me.”

“that’s so mean,” jeongin says affronted, his eyes wide and then he pouts.  “he’d do that to you?” 

you nod, arms wrapping around yourself, and jeongin is already awake, eyes wide and you can already tell he’s trying to think of a solution where everything’s okay 

“if he does that,” jeongin says, quietly, “then we’ll leave the meeting.”

you crack a half smile.  “i can’t do that.”

“i’ll unplug the router,” jeongin pouts. 

you sigh, smushing your hands against your face, all too aware of your heart beating so loudly in your ears and the shallowness of your breath. 

“(y/n)?  oh no, (y/n), baby --”

he’s not one for pet names, but this time it just slips out and it makes things stop for a second

“i’m going to grab your hand, okay? and i’m going to start counting and we’re going to breathe.  is that okay?” 

you nod after a few seconds, and jeongin reaches for your hand, placing your palm against his chest.  and then he starts counting to ten, in a reassuring voice.  “just concentrate on breathing.  just focus on me.”

jeongin closes the laptop and pushes it away from you.  “what do you need?” 

“i … i just need a few minutes.”

jeongin nods, then reaches for your hand clasping it in his and squeezing gently.  “i’ll be here.”

when you regain your breath and think you’re a little okay, you turn and drag the laptop over, mouse hovering over the link 

jeongin just smiles at you softly, eyes still blinky and exhausted from sleep.  he rests his head against the table, and you can tell he’s trying to stay awake, but it’s just so early and he starts drifting off to sleep

but there’s something in the comfort jeongin brings by just being there, and with your heart beating loudly in your chest, you click the link and are brought to the loading screen: host will let you in momentarily

jeongin stirs and squeezes your hand again, slightly more awake, now.  “you got this”

he smiles genuinely, and it makes your heart warm.  “squeeze my hand if it gets bad in there, okay?” 

you shake your head, but jeongin wakes up further at this, slightly alarmed.  “you won’t bother me, i promise!  and when you’re done we can go pick up an order at the pastry shop down the street, okay?”

you smile at jeongin.  “okay.” 

and you’re going to hold him to that.

[recurring-polynya]

If you could rewrite the zanpakto arc of Bleach, and you didn’t have to make it fit into canon, what would it be like? Aside from having a lot of RenRuki pinning.

So I guess this is just a condensation of my complaining from when I was recapping that arc, but, uh, you asked for it. I know this is a lot of people’s favorite arc, and it really just wasn’t my jam, so please, don’t anyone get offended by this, it’s just, like, my opinions, man. Everyone knows my opinions are terrible, I love the Cap’n Amagai arc, for Pete’s sake.

0) The Zanpakutou Arc actually has a lot of good Renruki content, actually? So I probably wouldn’t change much about that. They fight back-to-back in one scene? They are very worried about Byakuya together? There’s a cute li’l scene where Renji lets Rukia into Byakuya’s office to rifle through his things and he says “Don’t work too hard”? And then in the companion Sword Beasts arc, there’s that bit where they are hanging out at B’s house together, eating dango.

1) To be honest, I just wouldn’t. Zanpakutou spirits manifesting is a prerequisite to bankai and I would like it to be treated as a serious part of the lore and the way this arc plays out is too silly for me. If they wanted to just do some goofy one-shots that very obviously exist in the same pseudo-canon as the Shinigami’s Cup, I’m fine with that. There are several very funny episodes in the follow-on Sword Beasts arc, I just don’t want it to be even remotely canon.

2) There were too many humanoid zanpakutou spirits. I am not here for it. First order of business, bring back Nue Zabimaru. Hozukimaru needs to be a big-ass sleepy dragon. Hyourinmaru should be a dragon most of the time, who occasionally turns into a dude, I can accept that. Kazeshini should just be a spooky voice in the darkness. Haineko should be a cat, not a catgirl, and get rid of those shorts. Tobiume: tree. Maybe sometimes a shrine maiden, but mostly a tree. On fire.

3) I am a character writer, first and foremost, and I would have focused this arc intently on building character by carefully curating the fundamental beef that each zanpakutou has with their wielder. For starters, I think that, for the most part, Muramasa should not have been able to seduce any of the zanpakutou spirits of the captains. Attaining bankai is supposed to be an intimate act of intense connection that some interloper shouldn’t be able to break. This was true of Byakuya and Senbonzakura in the actual arc, and I think it should also have been true of Kyouraku, Ukitake, Komamura, Yamamoto, and probably Unohana. (I am dying to know more about Unohana’s relationship with her zanpakutou, and I would probably hint at it without revealing too much). Soi Fon and Kurotsuchi treat their zanpakutou like shit, and I would dig into that. I think Hitsugaya’s arc was just about right-- Hyourinmaru wavered and was very confused, and ultimately came back to Hitsugaya without too much trouble. Hitsugaya is the youngest captain and his bankai is incomplete, and the vibe of it was that he does have a good rapport with his zanpakutou, especially given that his particular zanpakutou is ancient, venerable, and very, very powerful. Now, the place where the story really needs to be happening is at the vice-captain level, where everyone has all manner of intra-personal problems that Muramasa could tap into and amplify. Here are the conflicts I would zoom in on:

Sode no Shirayuki is McPissed that Rukia just... gave her to Ichigo and also almost let herself get executed

Zabimaru would be mad that Renji spent all that time training to defeat Byakuya and now what? He’s just, like, Byakuya’s li’l sidekick? Gross. In fact, if we keep the Byakuya-betrays-everyone aspect, I can see Zabimaru sticking with Renji (since he does have bankai) but wanting a piece of Byakuya and Senbonzakura and we could have a really cool confrontation at some point. Zabimaru should also be constantly trying to fight Zangetsu and trying to get Renji to fight Ichigo. Strike that-- Zabimaru should constantly be trying to get Renji to fight everybody.

Hozukimaru should be upset that Ikkaku hides the beautiful bankai that Hozukimaru gave him and also that he lost that pillar, wtf dude

I would have spent 96% of my animation budget making Ruri'iro Kujaku as beautiful and ethereal as possible and they (non-binary) should have just murdered Yumichika out of spite and fucked off to the Eternal Plane of the Extremely Beautiful

My Haineko would be raw as hell and would dig into Matsumoto for hiding behind alcohol and lightheartedness and I would have put some stuff in there about how maybe being the person your zanpakutou wants you to be is maybe not the same as being a good or emotional healthy person

I hated the idea that Tobiume criticized Momo for being weak after Momo said that her zanpakutou had really helped with her recovery. I would have gone way in the other direction, where Tobiume is extremely overprotective of Momo and wants to keep anything bad from happening to her

Hisagi something something I did not read CFYOW

4) I would not have been a huge coward with regard to Ise, Kotetsu, Iba, or Zaraki fuckin’ Kenpachi. We should have either gotten to see their zanpakutou or they should not have appeared. It would probably be really hard, but I would have done an off-putting, low-priority story thread of Yachiru having a lot of trouble concentrating, or, like, running off, and Zaraki has to go find her, that would hint at their ultimate relationship without being too blatant. Oh, Yoruichi, too, I just remembered Yoruichi was in this.

5) Look, if I were Ichigo and I had to go to Soul Society to save everyone from their own zanpakutou I WOULD BRING FUCKING ORIHIME AND CHAD!!! I wouldn’t being Ishida, but he would come anyway and be the most sanctimonious bastard about all that that you could possibly imagine. Anyway, then I would go in an absolutely wild direction and have Orihime and Chad and Uryuu find out that they do have Inner Worlds and embodiments of their powers and I would devote a lot of the arc to that.

6) Soujun should have been in the Kouga flashbacks, even if, only like, for a minute. Please let me see Byakuya’s dad in his infinite softness. I am begging.

7) I would get rid of Muramasa’s gross fingernails

[aja154ever]

Haikyuu To the Top New Year’s Online Event! Inarizaki High School Special Team Meeting~ Karasuno Still on to the New Year’s Vibe~ 01/10/2021

The report is late, but still posting this for the record!! It’s long and detailed but the talks were really interesting so please read until the end! I promise, you won’t regret it! I also put Haikyuu pictures for easier understanding (but no seiyuu pics from the actual event besides those from the official accounts).

The event was held on 1/10 but there was an archive viewing on 1/23~24 so I watched it again <3

The event starts with a prerecorded video of a mini skit by the voice actors. The video shows the Inarizaki members at the club room at the start of the year (not animated, still images only moving once in a while).

Atsumu: I won this year, Samu! I got more New year postcards than you!

Osamu: But you’re also including the ones sent from business establishments! They don’t count!

Atsumu: Doesn’t matter! They’re addressed to my name, anyway! You’re just a sore loser!

Suna enters the room and they notice that he seems to be happy. Osamu assumed that it’s probably because he got a lot of money from New Year, but warns him that if he spends too much, Kita-san would scold him telling him to save money properly.

Atsumu: Ah! Must be nice to be you, Suna! Because we’re twins, we have to divide and share the money we get from our grandparents! I envy you!

Osamu: *sighs* If I were an only child, I'd get to buy delicious stuff and enjoy all the food by myself!

But Suna clarifies that it’s not because of the money he got why he’s happy, but actually because he got “excellent luck” from the fortune this year.

The twins didn’t expect him to bother about such things, and they said that they don’t actually believe in that because as twins they’re often told to share the same fate.

Kita enters the room and everyone greets him a Happy New Year. Kita greets back and tells them to get ready for the meeting and the practice. Osamu suddenly asks a question before they go though.

Osamu: I heard from Aran-kun before that Kita house’s “ozouni” (Japanese soup with rice cakes traditionally eaten during New Year) is really delicious. Is that true?

Kita: Ah well, it’s made by granny after all, so there’s no way it’s not.

Osamu: Please let me eat that next time!

Atsumu: That’s unfair!!! Let me too!

Kita: *chuckles* Oh, you’re pretty enthusiastic about this, huh. Well, it’s good to properly eat such food during New Year after all. I’ll let you next time.

Twins: Thanks a lot!!

Osamu: Ahhh~ Can’t wait to eat Kita house’s ozouni!

Suna: Osamu, you really do like eating, huh.

Kita reminded them to not get carried away and take care of their bodies. They then go to proceed with their meeting.

The seiyuu event starts with the Inarizaki members greeting a Happy New Year. They’re also happy that Inarizaki is the main focus of this event.

For convenience, they’ll be referred here as follows.

Miyano Mamoru (Atsumu’s seiyuu) - Mamo

Kabumoto Hideaki (Osamu) - Kabu

Nojima Kenji (Kita) - NojiKen

Shimazaki Nobunaga (Suna) - Zakki

They’re all wearing Inarizaki-themed kimonos for the occasion and showed it off with the camera tilting down to up, focusing on each of them, as they also turned around.

Kabu is wearing a matching arm warmer, which he mistakenly calls “warm armer” (Mamo corrects him laughing), that volleyball players apparently use during games. He also shares that he spent the New Year alone (due to the pandemic situation), meanwhile NojiKen went to the Haikyuu exhibit during the holiday and was really impressed with the experience.

There were also seiyuu events held last year but since the anime was still ongoing at that time they cannot fully talk about everything, but now they can go talk without any hesitation. This is also the first time that the four of them gathered for a Haikyuu event.

Zakki has been open about his love for his team in past events and this time he also expressed that with a full smile.

Zakki: I’m really very happy (that we’re all here)! *cute mini jumping/shaking gestures* Ah, i LOVE Inarizaki! I REALLY love this team, it’s the best! Even if I knew that we’d end up losing, I still felt like we were definitely gonna win.

Mamo: But we did lose

Zakki: Don’t say it!

The MC of the event entered afterwards and the seiyuus formally introduced themselves one by one (they almost forgot lol).

Karasuno was then introduced. They also appeared in a mini skit first.

Hinata arrives at the gym first. However, inside the gym Mt. Fuji appeared out of nowhere. He was surprised for a second, but then thought that he’d go climb it anyway. 

Kageyama enters the scene chasing a flying hawk.

Kageyama: Oy boke! Hinata! Catch that bird! Fly!

Hinata jumped and jumped but wasn’t able to catch it.

Kageyama: Oy! How dare you let it go! What was with those little jumps anyway? You wouldn’t reach it with that!

Hinata asked what was that all about and Kageyama said that the hawk matches Mt. Fuji. And with that, Hinata realizes that the only thing lacking for a good luck charm is an eggplant (“nasu” in Jpn).

Hinata: Kageyama! “Ore ni nasu!” (Tr: “Bring the eggplant to me,” but this is a play on the “Toss to me” line which sounds similar in Jpn “Ore ni tosu!”)

Kageyama refused, complaining about it and they started to argue.

The sound of alarm suddenly rings. Hinata wakes up from the dream*, and heads out to go to practice.

*Hatsuyume - the first dream of the year deemed to be important in Jpn culture. Dreaming of Mt. Fuji, hawk, and eggplant is particularly considered to be lucky.

The Karasuno seiyuus then join the rest in the studio saying their greetings.

Murase Ayumu (Hinata) - Ayu

Ishikawa Kaito (Kageyama) - Kaito

Haikyuu Back to the Top!

The seiyuus selected their most memorable scenes from the season.

Ayu and Zakki apparently chose the same: Hinata’s “Nice receive” scene.

Zakki particularly loves the silence that follows after the receive, and Kageyama’s “Nice receive” (he claps when it was shown on the VTR). 

He loves Inarizaki and really wanted to fight and win with them and felt very frustrated when they lost, but he can’t really help but admire this Karasuno scene. The people who were watching the game couldn’t believe what happened that everyone’s feelings synced and they all fell silent. The silence held so much meaning, he thinks that the events and all the drama that occurred for them to reach this turning point gave the scene life, despite the lack of sound, and it was really beautiful. It’s a scene made by everyone. It also happened that he was at the studio during the recording and he saw how Kaito and the director gave so much thought about how Kageyama would say the “Nice receive” line to Hinata.

Ayu adds that the Inarizaki match is indeed very important to Hinata’s growth and this scene is a testament that Hinata’s path was right, and all his efforts weren’t in vain. He also likes the monologue by Japan National Team coach Hibarida in this scene, saying that Hinata’s life as a volleyball player which would still continue from then on, was acknowledged.

Mamo and Kabu’s chosen scenes were also shown together - Twin’s Quick.

Kabu chose the last quick of the game, while Mamo chose all.

For the first quick, Mamo especially liked the moment when it zooms to Atsumu. The reverse quick was also impressive. 

Mamo: *pointing at the VTR* Isn’t this amazing? This is reverse, you know!

Kabu still doesn’t want to believe that their last quick got blocked.

Mamo chose all because of the build-up and growth that happened during the match. The quick attack was something the twins just tried on a whim, but their guts, playfulness, and talent were really amazing.

The last quick was particularly memorable to Kabu because Osamu can be seen as the more reserved of the two, and while the twins carry the same thing inside them their approach and expression of things differ. But in the last scene, Atsumu and Osamu gave their all and really synced 100% perfectly.

Mamo adds that the first and last quick had the same lines, but the tension was very different and he really liked the juxtaposition. As the actors they were also carried away and really let their voices go all out in the last one, and he even thinks that Kabu and him synced perfectly that their voices sounded very alike.

On the other hand, the Karasuno members were also asked for their opinion.

Kaito: Aahhh, no matter how many times I watch it, it’s really amazing. And because it’s the quick attack that we’ve been doing ever since, I still feel irritated, like *points at his face* this area below my eye really twitches unconsciously. That’s our attack! Don’t do it!

Ayu agrees and says that he really likes that last rotation in the game, that if it weren’t for that rotation, if it weren’t Kageyama and Hinata there, Karasuno would not have been able to block that attack. As he also shared in the Jump Festa last time, it’s theirs and they’re the ones who knew it the most so it’s only perfect that they were the ones who were able to stop that.

The next scene shown was the one Kaito picked which turned out to be unexpected to everyone - Atsumu’s happy scenes compilation.

Kaito explains that they might think that he’s just fooling around, but he actually has a serious reason for choosing this. Kageyama and Atsumu are both setters with similar personalities, they love volleyball, and are very straightforward to their dreams. And while he does like Kageyama’s demeanor, he admires Atsumu’s attitude towards volleyball so much.

Kaito: “I’m having so much fun right now!!” The way Atsumu expresses that, as a human I want to work and live a life like Atsumu who enjoys doing what he loves so much, and is able to openly express it to the world. Atsumu’s way of playing volleyball, those smiles, the voice that holds all the experiences he’s had - i REALLY like them.

Mamo was glad and grateful with the compliment and agrees, sharing that sometimes at the end of a hard day’s work he’s also like Atsumu who’d go tell himself, “Ah! Ain’t today’s me so amazing?!”

He says that Atsumu is so carefree and thinks that there’s nothing wrong with expressing how he feels at the moment, especially when he’s strong because he’s doing his best everytime. It’s the result of his efforts and he takes pride in it. That is why he can express that smile that loves volleyball very much.

The last scene was the one NojiKen selected - Kita’s “Aren’t my teammates amazing?” scene (starting from the “I don’t have any regrets” line).

While watching the VTR,

NojiKen: Ah, I’m gonna cry..

Mamo: This scene would really make you cry… I did cry during the recording.

Kabu: Aran-kuuunnn T.T

NojiKen: It’s very admirable.. Ah, I really wanted them to win..

Mamo: Ahhhh... He’s the best captain...

NojiKen shared that he was torn between choosing this scene or the scene when Kita got his uniform. During the recording the seiyuus, just like the Inarizaki team, fought with their all, only thinking about victory despite them knowing the end result.

So when the team lost, he really felt so frustrated and if it was him, he’d really want to shout and cry. But Kita-san doesn’t have any regrets, and his choice of words here showing the maturity of his heart really struck him.

NojiKen: Kita-san wasn’t crying in the scene, so during the recording I shouldn’t cry too. But after that, I did cry a lot. I think that in the corners of Kita-san’s heart he was really frustrated but hid it, and when he was left alone, he probably shed tears, too.

Mamo: Ahh, what a really nice talk this is..

NojiKen: So frustrating..

Zakki: I really wanted us to win..

For the next corner, the seiyuus were asked (beforehand) to

describe the Karasuno team and the Inarizaki team in one word.

Their answers were compiled and due to the short time allotted for discussion, only a few answers were discussed.

NojiKen: Karasuno = Turkish ice cream

They’re like that ice cream that unbelievably stretches a lot which he likens to Karasuno growing and improving consistently physically and mentally. Moreover, when you buy the ice cream, the vendor usually won’t hand it to you right away and you’d keep chasing for it, and just like that, Karasuno is a team that isn't easily “captured” by their opponents.

Zakki: Karasuno = Sticky sticky love volleyball (they were laughing at Zakki’s lack of vocabulary)

Zakki also defended his answer that well, Karasuno is sticky and stretches out too that no matter how far the opponents go they will stick to them persistently. And because they are sticky, no matter how much they stretch out they won’t get cut easily amidst difficult situations, remaining connected. And because they love volleyball, they don’t stretch out in pain, but happily.

Inarizaki = Go go go head-on love volleyball

Inarizaki has overflowing spirits and potential and they always go for any challenge, almost without limits. He thinks that if Kita-san wasn’t there to steady the hold they’d go flying too much and even collapse somewhere. And of course since they all share that love for volleyball, despite the differences they are able to face everything head-on.

Kaito, to Zakki: You’re saying something so good but because of the word choice it gets negated!

Mamo: Karasuno = comrades; Inarizaki = family

Inarizaki gives off a strong family vibe not only because the twins are literally brothers, but because of the role of each member like one is a responsible parent (Kita), an older brother (Aran), an inexpressive cheeky little brother (Osamu/Suna?), etc, and he likes it. Whereas Karasuno are more like comrades in arms fighting together.

Ayu: Inarizaki = Despair

This team has a lot of potential and it’s as if they don’t have any weaknesses. They can stop the good momentum of the opponent to get back on track, and when the momentum is on their side they also have Kita-san who can prolong that despair. He says that when he first read them in the manga, he was like “it’s impossible to beat them!”

Kaito: Inarizaki = Growth period

Inarizaki is always ever-growing all the while they're having fun, and that road to “ripening” is unstoppable, making this team a formidable opponent.

The next corner featured fortune-telling by a tarot card reader named A.M., which was then revealed to be Ayumu Murase. In private life, he revealed that he enjoys tarot card reading and does it almost everyday. He drew the cards of the other seiyuus beforehand to determine their luck in “battles” this year.

Since this corner isn’t about Haikyuu, I won’t report it in detail.

Basically they were ranked based on their luck, and Ayu explained the readings for each one of them.

Kabu

Mamo

NojiKen

Zakki

Kaito

Since Kaito ranked the lowest, he was given a lucky item - a golden volleyball.

New Year Postcard Pick up Corner

After that, they proceeded to the New Year Postcard Pick up Corner, where cards sent from fans were displayed on a board. This was led by Ayu and Kaito and two cards were picked which contained greetings and questions from the senders.

1st card - Share a moment when you felt like you got hooked on your job again (just like Haikyuu characters did to volleyball).

Ayu and Kaito both answered that it was getting to work in Haikyuu. Kaito expounds that Haikyuu reflects real life as they don’t always win, despite being the main characters. They continue to grow as actors too, and when they get to meet one another in the next seasons they all get to enjoy the new battles they face together.

2nd card - What do you think is Kageyama’s weakness?

Kaito thinks that Kageyama may be seen as strong but he’s not a perfect setter and is continuously supported by the people around him.

Meanwhile, Ayu thinks that as a setter Kageyama may be seen as smart who is good in studies as well, but then the fact that he’s actually just on the same level as Hinata in studying, is cute.

M-1/K-1/S-1/H-1 GranPri

The event then proceeds to the “Grand Prix” program, where three selected scene cuts (VTRs) for each character are shown. Each seiyuu would vote which scene they think represents the character best. After the initial voting, they’d engage in a discussion stating the reason for their choice (though because of time restriction not everyone can speak) where they can persuade others to change their votes. After that they make a final vote.

Miya-1 GranPri: Osamu

Scene 1: from Ep16

Scene 2: from Ep21

Scene 3: from Ep22

Initial Votes:

Zakki

Mamo, Kabu, Ayu

Kaito, NojiKen

Discussion: Kabu remembers that he wondered about how Osamu would talk in this scene, as he’s frustrated but chose to say such words. He talked to Mamo about it and since Mamo/Atsumu would strongly say his lines, Kabu/Osamu also settled to assert his point with more conviction (”Let me finish what I’m saying!”).

Since Kabu discussed his experience that way, other seiyuus were easily convinced to change their answer to 2. Though NojiKen states that his favorite number is 3 that’s why he voted for 3. (So yeah, this didn’t turn into a discussion at all lol)

Final votes: 2 - everyone

Miya-1 GranPri: Atsumu

Scene 1: from Ep4 

Scene 2: from Ep21

Scene 3: from Ep24

Initial Votes:

Kaito, Kabu

Mamo, Zakki, Ayu

NojiKen

Discussion: Kaito had a hard time choosing but ended up voting for 1. He says that scene 1 definitely gave a strong first impression of Atsumu. He got disappointed in Kageyama because he didn’t get thrilled on his by the book’s way of playing volleyball. Mamo adds that when they recorded this Atsumu really appeared as a strong, mysterious senpai character, and Kaito who watched it, honestly said that he’s scary. Kaito adds that there is more impact because he was on the receiving end of those words.

Everyone was a bit silent and looked like they got convinced of Kaito's answer, but Zakki begged to differ. He says that because of scene 1 being scary, people would wonder what kind of person Atsumu is, and once they see scene 2 they’d understand where he is coming from. They’d see that Atsumu is a very earnest person who goes straight forward to what he wants and has to do. In an instant, all of Atsumu’s appeal/charm as a person, as a player is shown.

Zakki: Won’t everyone begin to like Atsumu because of this scene?

NojiKen was about to defend his answer, apparently he has a proper reason this time for voting 3, but the time limit bell rang before he had the chance to do so.

Final Votes: 2 - Zakki, NojiKen, 1 - the rest

Kage-1 GranPri

Scene 1: from Ep7

Scene 2: from Ep19 (Kalm Kageyama)

Scene 3: from Ep24 (Setter Dump)

Initial Votes:

Kaito

Ayu

Mamo, Kabu, NojiKen, Zakki

Discussion: NojiKen says that scene 3 exhibited Kageyama’s sharp intellect as a setter that thoroughly thinks about the strategy. Kabu adds that with this, he thinks Kageyama was able to get even with Atsumu from the goody two-shoes remark.

Ayu thinks that scene 3 was indeed impactful on the opponent side (that’s why all Inarizaki voted for it), but for a teammate the presence of a ‘Kalm Kageyama’ is impressive as it shows a different side of him when playing so he went for 2.

Kaito finds scene 1 a very important turning point for Kageyama as Hinata makes him a king. A king is someone who can’t exist without his own people, so a king only becomes one because he is chosen. Up to now Kageyama has been nothing but a lonely king, so that act from Hinata for the first time ever officially made him the King of the Court. And from that, scene 2 is born showing a King, and then scene 3 shows that this King can also act like this.

Final Votes: 2 - Kaito, 1 - the rest

It was a surprise that after everything Kaito said, he ended up the one changing his answer but he didn’t give any explanation about it.

Suna-1 GranPri

Scene 1: from Ep19

Scene 2: from Ep19 (the old man discussing Suna’s ability)

Scene 3: from Ep20 (Suna wanting to find Kita’s weakness)

Initial Votes:

Mamo, Kabu, Ayu

Kaito

Zakki, NojiKen

Discussion: 

Mamo: 3 is Kita-san’s scene!

Zakki: And 2 is the old man’s scene!

Kaito defends 2 saying that core training is very hard and he looks up to Suna for being able to master that. But when he thought about 1 again, he says that 1 is indeed a good scene and considers changing his answer right then lol. Meanwhile, NojiKen actually wanted to choose 1 but Kita-san was in scene 3 so he voted for that.

Mamo: Well, that was Kita-san’s cute scene after all!

Zakki was about to explain about 1 but was cut by the time limit bell.

Final Votes: 4 - Zakki, 1 - the rest

Zakki explained that he likes 1 but the scene he liked the most was the exchange when Tsukki got back on Suna, so he chose 4. Mamo agrees and teases the staff that they should have chosen to put that scene in the selection instead.

Kita-1 GranPri

Scene 1: from Ep20 (scene cut starts from Aran and Kita going home until this “chanto yannen” scene)

Scene 2: from Ep20 (Kita analyzing the 2nd years one by one)

Scene 3: from Ep24 (“I’m a human invited to a monster’s ball.”)

Initial Votes:

1 - Mamo, Kabu, Zakki, Ayu, Kaito

3 - NojiKen

Discussion: NojiKen continues fooling around by choosing 3 even if he actually likes 1. Mamo says that he actually likes the scene before 1, the moment when Kita-san got his uniform and proceeds to tease the staff again to put that scene instead. But Kabu says that he likes that going home scene, surprised that Kita-san can laugh like that and Aran was also cute for getting confused at what Kita-san was talking about. Kaito adds that scene 1 also shows us the level of friendship that Kita-san and Aran have. Kita-san laughed but Aran didn’t look surprised, meaning that he has seen it before - Aran knows Kita-san’s smile.

Final Votes: 1 - everyone

Hina-1 GranPri

Scene 1: from Ep1 

Scene 2: from Ep13

Scene 3: from Ep24

Initial Votes:

1 - Mamo, Kaito

3 - Kabu, NojiKen, Zakki, Ayu

Discussion: Kaito was very hesitant in making a decision again but ended up with 1. Ayu starts the discussion saying that 1 and 2 are indeed very Hinata-like, but 3 left a big impression on him, seeing Hinata become someone who is able to give his teammates a moment to breathe in the middle of a game, showing how much he has grown. He was deeply moved when he read it in the manga and when he watched it in the anime again.

For a moment Kaito wanted to change his answer to 3, but then explains that 1 is the very starting line of To the Top. Because of that, not only Hinata but Karasuno was able to face and fight Inarizaki like this. Mamo comments on a different note. He wasn’t in the studio during the recording of 1 but when he watched it again now, he felt impressed and realized how along with Hinata Shoyo, Murase Ayumu the seiyuu has also grown a lot. That one short scene makes Ayu’s development very clear, for being able to voice act like that. Ayu was so happy and grateful he immediately changed his answer to 1. 

Final Votes: 3 - Kabu, NojiKen, 1 - the rest

New Year Postcard Pick up Corner 2

After the Granpri, they went to the New Year Postcard Pick up Corner again, led this time by Mamo and Kabu.

Mamo: Hi! We are Hyogo’s Miya twins!

Mamo reads the 1st card though there was no question, it’s from a mother writing about his 6-yr old son who loves Haikyuu, particularly Atsumu. Mamo is glad and thinks that people of different ages really do watch Haikyuu. Kabu adds that it would be nice if this can actually inspire someone in the future to play volleyball.

Mamo: Yeah, like hearing someone say that because of Haikyuu they became a setter, or a professional player.

2nd card - Do you have anything that’s like Kita-san’s concept of “Repetitive, Methodical, Thorough”?

Kabu answers that this applies to his work as a stage actor where they keep doing the same things properly everyday for months.

New year’s Play-offs

The next games that followed were more related to New Year but less of Haikyuu so I won’t be reporting them in detail too (also because it’s probably only funny if you get to watch them playing the game). The seiyuus were divided into two: Team Atsumu with Mamo, Zakki, Ayu, and Team Tobio with Kaito, Kabu, and NojiKen.

Game 1 - Guess the Situation of the First Dream: Sleep Talk Nuance Quiz

Mechanics: One of the members will sleep talk using a random line from the anime. There are four situations given where the line can possibly be used, and out of the four the other members will guess what kind of dream their teammate had. 

This game was played 4 times, with 2 turns for each team. Both teams won once.

Game 2 - Two-attack First Drawing

Mechanics: One member has to guess the word that his two other teammates will draw together. The challenge is that they can only draw using one pen stroke or without lifting their pen.

Each team only got one turn, and both didn’t get the correct answer.

With the two teams ending up in a tie, they were both declared winners and the prize is... Kita House’s Ozouni! A Hyogo-style ozouni was prepared for them. NojiKen led the serving of the food.

NojiKen: You have to do cooking properly, too. (“Oryouri mo, chanto yannen”)

The event now comes to a close. The seiyuus say their

last message to the fans.

Zakki: I hope it was made clear that this is how fun the atmosphere is during recordings. I really love Inarizaki and the Haikyuu team. I will continue to hope that there will be more chances to spend time with everyone again. Please continue supporting Haikyuu from now on too!

NojiKen: Due to the pandemic situation, voice recordings were taken separately, but still this kind of teamwork was born. During these hard times, please watch/rewatch Haikyuu a lot of times and exercise your hearts and mind. Thank you!

Kabu: I have been invited to participate in a lot of Haikyuu events since last year and then for the first time these 4 Inarizaki members have gathered, and I really had a good time. I hope you all enjoyed it too. Looking forward to your support.

Mamo: I’m really glad that I can experience youth again at my age through Haikyuu. With the current situation where the norm is no longer the usual, I’m really happy that we were able to finish and present this Inarizaki match to you, thanks to the efforts of all the staff who have carefully considered how we can work best while taking the necessary health precautions. From here on too, we will continue to bring entertainment to the fans like usual, and I’m hoping that we can work again and act for the future stories too of Haikyuu.

Kaito: Did you have fun watching, everyone?

*answers himself acting as a viewer* Yes! We had fun! Thank you!

Thank you for all your comments! It’s been more than a year since we started working for Haikyuu To the Top and despite all the difficulties brought about by outside influences (particularly the pandemic), I’m really happy that we are here now and were able to say, “That was fun!” with everyone. Let’s keep the flame burning for Haikyuu!

Ayu: As what everyone has also mentioned, the current situation has made me realize more the value of each and every episode we created. Precisely because the normal everyday things have ceased to become normal, being part of a work that can touch people’s hearts when they watch it and make them appreciate volleyball more, makes me feel really proud. I’m really grateful to the staff. Hinata and everyone’s path will still continue from now on and I really hope we can continue to work with this team until the end.

After their goodbyes, NojiKen was tasked to lead the last greeting as the captain of Inarizaki, which is the main in this event.

NojiKen: Thank you everyone for watching us ‘til the end. Thank you!

All together: Thank you!!!! *cute bye bye waves*

Photos/Posts from Official Accounts

And that’s it!! It was a fun fun fun 2.5 hrs event! I’m really glad that despite the current pandemic situation we can still have seiyuu events like this.

I just want to say that I’ve been watching Haikyuu all these years, but unexpectedly, the Inarizaki match is the moment I felt that I got hooked on Haikyuu *cries*

I just really really LOVE Kita-san soooo much, and the Miya twins T.T !!!!

I’m no longer active on tumblr nowadays, so may follow me on twitter instead @harukaja15

Though for long reports like this, tumblr is really perfect :)

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