#and on the novel side I swear I´m just going

[gotchaocha]

Ughh stuck on writing a scene again 

On the bright side, I already got 3 chapter of the possible-novel written! 

I try not to think about the fact that I´m trying to write a nove because I feel like understanding the long ass path of trying to acomplish such a thing will stop me from trying in the first place. You know normal stuff

[kuroppiii]

     little mermaid ᵕ̈           boyfie!kuroo tetsurō x gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : "not even the ocean could ⋮⋮  rip me away from you. i'm not going ⋮⋮ anywhere. what am i? sea foam?"

📋 content         ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮         ♡ # 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 🥛         ♡ # ~800 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴

🧸 directory  ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii ─ “ i ' m in the summer mood thanks to @lcvemiyuki 's account xx . hot writer summer !!! ( not proofread !! ) ”

you turn to the next page of your book. you try your best from letting the sand that's stuck to your sunscreen-ed arm deposit little grains into the nooks and crannies of the novel's binding, but it's hard considering your lounging on your towel stomach-first. the seagulls circling above you and the shade of your beach umbrella mock you as you inevitably fail to do so. you try to lean forward and gently blow the sand off the neatly-printed letters when–

"stop moving babe!" your boyfriend of 6'2" whines like a child. "you're going to ruin art. my art."

and with that, you feel more sand getting dumped on the back of your legs and the light patting of hands to shape it around your body. kuroo was currently trying to give you a mermaid tail.

"how much longer is this gonna take, tetsu?" you struggle to say without giggling through your words. you hear him return your laughter, and although you can't turn around to see it, you can picture his smile and the way his eyes crease at the corners as he does so. you hear his steps in the sand as he comes up to join you and your book.

"it's almost done," he announces before nosing at the side of your face and leaving loving kisses from your temple to your slightly-sunburnt shoulder. you feel the ocean water still remnant in his hair from the swim you two shared earlier.

"you said that about 20 minutes ago if i recall correctly," you tease, trying your best to dodge his sea salty kisses.

"i told you to stop moving! oh, i'm gonna have to start all over again at this rate," he complains with the most dramatic sigh any one person has ever mustered, making you laugh more. "and how do you know it's already been 20 minutes, anyway? i haven't seen you check your phone at all, you've had your nose stuck in that book."

"well can see from the shadow of the sunscreen," you start through your fit of giggles, but as you start your defense kuroo starts to shift so he's right in front of you–face-to-face with you and leaning on his side. maybe it's heatstroke, but you swear you can see a twinkle in your boyfriends eyes, like the way the ocean shimmers in the midday sunlight. "and y'know if the egyptians, if they can use their sun dials to, to tell the passage of time, then... then..."

your laughter dies down and sound of your voice trails off. a subtle smile graces kuroo's lips, and you start to feel small by how devoutly he's admiring you.

you two share a peaceful moment, a lull where it's just you two and the sound of waves crashing against the shore nearby.

"i should bury you in sand more often," he suddenly blurts out, interrupting the silence.

you start laughing again, "why on earth would you say that?"

kuroo shakes his head and places his hand to the side of our smiling cheek, "because that way i know you won't go away. i like having you here, with me."

"i could never leave you, tetsu. even when i get my legs back. not even the ocean could rip me away from you. i'm not going anywhere. what am i? sea foam?" you lightheartedly joke. kuroo hums in response, and you feel the pad of his thumb start to caress your cheekbone.

suddenly you realize how close you two were, you can almost feel his lips on yours and the feeling makes your eyes flutter shut. at last, you feel his soft and tender (and a little sandy) kiss as his hand comes down to take your hand away from your book and into his own.

you depart and it's like you're in a daze. you have to take a deep breath of seaside air and rest your head down on your arm as you and kuroo smile at each other like the two lovestruck idiots you are.

then he goes to brush off the sand from his swim trunks and sit up, "alright babe, what do you say to some sea shells to decorate your marvelous tail–the one you definitely love and will stay still for because yours truly is making it?"

you reach out and grab a fistful of sand and launch it at his torso, which he lets out a pitchy yelp at in response.

"whatever you want mr. artiste, as long as i can get my legs back soon so we can go out and swim again," you say as you shift to continue your book.

kuroo gives you a wink, "anything for my little mermaid."

[rysko]

Kings of Spades - Part 4 l Luca Changretta x M!OC

Summary: Juliusz is stuck in a limbo of not being useful enough to Tommy and, to his inner dismay, impatiently awaiting any 'orders' from the Italians. That changes when he visits a work colleague...

Previous Chapter

Warnings: mentions of drug usage, Peaky-typical swearing and violence, minor death

A/N: It's heeeeere!!! This chapter went through SO. MANY. rewrites. It's mostly a set up for the next few chapters (i cannot wait to share them with yall, there's so many scenes i've been waiting to write :>) I hope ya'll like it. Have fun!

(the occasional use of Polish/Italian will be translated at the end of the chapter, while Polish will be directly translated by me, Italian is with the use of google translate, so sorry if there's any mistakes)

It was a slow morning in the Small Heath office. At this hour, only a few people were clocked in. Thomas and Juliusz, on account of being known early birds (or insomniacs for that matter), were already at their respectful places, getting the first points off their to-do lists. Curly visited for a short while, but only to update Thomas on a newly birthed foal.

“A really nice horse, I’m telling you, Tommy! The beautiful reddish coat she has, and nice strong legs!” He rambles on as both he and Tommy exit his office and walk by Juliusz, assembling some files at the main entrance desk.

“That’s good Curly.” Thomas smiles ever-so-slightly.

“We’re thinking of naming her John, as a tribute.” Curly looks at Thomas in anticipation, clearly more excited than anyone else.

“...How nice.” Thomas chokes back a laugh, glancing at Juliusz in an almost ‘help me’ look. The Pole isn’t having any of it.

“It’s not like the horse cares, unless you’ll call her Esme?” Juliusz smirks at Thomas, then proceeds to throw a small smile in Curlys’ direction.

“Then she’ll come back and butcher us before the Italians do.” Thomas sighs through his cigarette, clearly fighting off a smile. It’s nice to see just a bit of tension ease, especially after yesterday. Thomas damn near interrogated Juliusz after his ‘truce’ meeting with Changretta, only to be left disappointed, and somehow even more paranoid, after he learned that no crucial information has been found out.

He’d never admit it, but some part of Juliusz impatiently waited on a call from the Italians. Where he was right now was a limbo, overwhelmed with emotions from the evening before, mixed with the tense atmosphere of Small Heath all wrapped in… Uncertainty. He didn’t know anything of importance to Tommy, and Changretta was as enigmatic as ever in letting Juliusz know his use. He shook his head to snap himself back into reality as he opened yet another novel-length document from the worker unions, despite his thoughts going everywhere but labour disputes. 

There’s still work to do. He doesn’t need to be glancing at the telephone every minute.

With Curly leaving the office in an almost giddy step, Thomas turns to go back to his duties. With a raise of a heavy document, Juliusz stops him.

“What will you do about Jesse Eden?” The lawyer repeats, it might as well be the 100th time he’d asked his employer that question since the communist representative started sniffing around the Shelby factories.

“What about her?” Tommy stood next to Juliusz’ desk in a relaxed pose, hands in his pockets, a hand-rolled cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. 

“She’s not making these strikes easy for the company. I thought you’d deal with her already, a revolution is coming.” He plops the file back on the desk and reaches into his jackets’ inner-pocket, taking out his cigarette tin and a pack of matches.

“I thought you were on the workers’ side.” Tommy replies in his usual smug tone, one that he uses whenever he thinks he’s got someone figured out. Juliusz fights the urge to roll his eyes. 

“I’m a Shelby Company Limited employee first, whatever i believe comes second. I don’t need drunken men frustrated with their life running around the street with guns and bayonets. And i’m sure you don’t as well, Thomas.” He slides the tiny box open to reveal just one match left. The oddly comforting smell of burning sulphur reaches Juliusz’ nose as he lights his cigarette. 

Working for the Shelbys these past few years has been fulfilling, and in some ways he’s been considered part of the family. This deranged, insane, unhinged and frankly dysfunctional family, always within punching distance as well as earshot.

It happened by accident. One minute you’re just a newly hired company lawyer in the Garrison after hours, the other you’re screaming “DUCK” to the oldest Shelby, as Irishmen flood the place with knives in their hands, IRA songs on their lips, and an inconceivable amount of alcohol in their blood. A drunken brawl, which frankly Juliusz wouldn’t expect to go that well, ended in only a few bruises on the brummie side. He rubbed his hands in pain, as he thought that he’s definitely going to regret that throughout the next week. Juliusz’s trance was paused by the first pat on the back of many…

“I knew i knew you from somewhere.” The surprisingly jolly (and honestly, probably as drunk as the Irish on the ground) Arthur Shelby squinted slightly at Juliusz, trying his hardest to pinpoint his face to any he might know. “Me brother hired you, right? From Solomons?”

“I wish i’d get introduced to you under better circumstances, Mr. Shelby.” He greeted him politely, as best as possible, while catching his breath after the fight. His hand reached for a handshake. 

“That’s the best circumstance there is! Just a couple of lads, fighting about.” Arthur slaps Juliusz’s handshake away, only to pat Juliusz’s back again, making some of the broken glass on his shoulders fall off. “Call me Arthur, would ya? You took out this bastard's tooth for me, i’m no Mr.” He kicks a laying man, not sure if it’s a beaten IRA associate, or a Peaky Blinder who's celebrating early by taking a nap on the wooden floors of the Garrison.

“I could go for another right about now.” Arthur looks around for any more fiends he could beat up without any consequences.  “Harry! Have we got any more Irish?!” He shouts, filling the whole room with his voice, despite being only a mere few meters from an unamused barkeep. 

“Only Irish whisky, ‘m afraid.” Harry smiles smugly in Arthur’s direction, looking up from searching for a broom to start cleaning this ruckus with.

“Eh, it’ll do.” He grumbles as he reaches over the bar to grab a bottle. “Do you want any- uh...?” He looks at Juliusz like he’s trying really hard to remember something, his voice now surprisingly polite. The Pole observes him with a curious glance. He’s different than people described him. Sure, unhinged was the right word some workers used. That man is unhinged, but only when the situation calls for it, it appears. There has to be more to that seemingly simple man, and he’s nice enough, Juliusz figures. Not many people wanted to get to know him (not that he complained, at least vocally). A foreigner with a learned London accent probably doesn’t spark a lot of trust. 

“Uh, Juliusz.” He joins his side at the bar, glancing briefly over his shoulder at the Irishmen on the floor, unconscious, and the locals getting back to drinking the day away.

“Yewl…” It’s not rolling off his slightly intoxicated brummie tongue well. “How about Jul?” Arthur suggests as he pours two heaping glasses of whisky, seeming proud of himself and the nickname he thought out.

"Good enough," Juliusz shrugs and tries to fight off a chuckle. 

“You seem like y’don’t get out enough. You’re a Blinder, look like a fookin’ egghead, but a Blinder nonetheless!” They clink their overflowing glasses together, both spilling a bit on the floor and hands. “What do you do in our company anyway?” He takes a big gulp of the whisky.

“I’m the new company lawyer.” Juliusz says, trying his hardest not to sound as excited as he actually is, but his eyes have been sparkling with curiosity and ambition ever since he stepped foot in Small Heath. Sure, most would think London to Birmingham is a downgrade, but going from a law advisor at an illegal ‘bakery’ to a company lawyer in a successful, legal business is quite the leap, at least for him.

“Oh jesus, an egghead, i was right.” Arthur choked-laughed on his drink, while Juliusz responded with a raised eyebrow, wanting to signal annoyance, but couldn’t help laughing along with the oldest Shelby. “I have to take you out to drinks with Michael, this kid’s right up your alley. John too, a bit less in your alley, but he’s a fun bloke, and also…” Arthur rambled on, and Juliusz surprisingly found himself listening. With a small smile on his lips, he reaches for his matches, and lights his and Arthurs’ cigarettes.

“I’m taking care of it.” Thomas tries to shut down the conversation.

“In what fashion, exactly?” Juliusz’ tone is starting to sound annoyed. Can’t Tommy for once in his life not speak in half-assed riddles? “I can take care of it if you need me to. I’m sure we can find something on her.”

“I’m planning to meet Miss Eden and discuss the whole dispute, and come to a conclusion that benefits us both.” Thomas says the whole plan directly to the wall, words spewing out of his mouth with grey smoke, not even appearing to consider his employees’ offer. Juliusz studies him for a few seconds.

“That’s a very long way of saying you’re going to stop the strikes with your cock.” He points his hand lazily in Tommy’s direction, cigarette held between his middle and ring fingers.

“Did Ada tell you that?” Tommy finally looks at him, then makes a sound which can only be described as something between a chuckle and a scoff.

“No. Has she told you something similar?” Juliusz raises an eyebrow whilst taking a drag of his cigarette. “I’ve always thought she’s very bright.” He lets out. Something inside him tells him he should let go and stop his remarks, but he’s frankly too annoyed with Thomas and too stressed to let it out in any other way.

“It just works.” Tommy breathes out.

“Thank God most judges are repulsive old men, you’d have put me out of a job otherwise.” He smiles smugly. Thomas only responds with a prolonged, empty stare.

“Did anyone call?” Tommy changed the subject, clearly done with whatever their conversation was up until now. 

“No one you’d find important.” Juliusz sighs, deflating slightly. Closing his eyes, only opening them to look at the telephone again.

“If they do-” 

“I will! For gods’ sake.” He snaps back, his hands tightening into fists. Tommy doesn’t seem impressed, his icy blue eyes seem to change in a way, as if switching approaches. 

“I have an appointment with Ms. Ross in a bit, let her in when she comes.” His tone is fake casual, as he puts out his cigarette in the ashtray resting atop Juliusz’s desk. Tommy leaves in the direction of his office just after that.

“What am i? Your secretary now?” Juliusz whispers-shouts after him, not earning a response. 

“Niewiarygodne.” He mutters to the now empty room, his only companion being the ever-present floating dust that came with the betting board. He sighs and buries his head in the crook of his elbow, only to immediately glance at the phone in anticipation.

.

.

.

. 

.

Silence. What is he even expecting?

Juliusz takes a deep breath. His fists are shaking slightly. This time, he’s not sure if it’s the stress or his body asking for some more snow, even if he promised himself he’d use it less, out of necessity. It could be his hands acting out, again. He closes his eyes tightly.

Pull yourself together. 

An otherwise soft hand riddled with faint freckles and birthmarks, and a big, jagged scar going through it’s back, reaches towards the stack of paperwork once more.

**************

He doesn’t know how long it’s been, but Juliusz was suddenly taken out of his work trance by the sound of the front door opening. Glancing at his watch, he saw that only an hour has passed, still early, for most. 

Out of the corner, he saw the frail figure of a woman, who after a brief moment of thought he recognised as Ms. Ross. She looked quiet and unassuming, almost like a mouse. Juliusz signed the last piece of documentation with a swift motion of a fountain pen, before standing up from his chair. Ms. Ross looked around the office warily, before her gaze rested on the lawyer that stuck his head out of his office.

“Can i help you?” He stepped in her direction, straightening his jacket.

“Oh. Yes, you can. Where can i find Mr. Shelbys’ office? I’ve got an appointment.” She asks, but seemed on edge, though Juliusz couldn’t blame her. Civilians hardly ever relax in the vicinity of the Peaky Blinders, especially Thomas.

“It’s just straight on, there’s a sign on the door, can’t miss it.” He nodded in the general direction of Tommy’s working space, shooting her a polite smile, to which she responded with a nervous grin and a rushed ‘thankyou’ as she headed for Thomas’ office. He saw her off with his gaze, then proceeded to look around the Small Heath office, people steadily turning in and starting business, mostly revolving around betting. All his paperwork for the day was done, he was only needed for a meeting in one of the factories, yet he still felt like he forgot to do something. Another look at his watch reminded him, midday. Michael should be able to answer the phone right about now.

With a quick spin and the hospital address, he waited next to the mounted telephone, leaning against the wooden, dusty walls.

“...Yes?” Rang a voice from the other side. 

“Michael, hey.” Juliusz put the speaker against his shoulder nad cheek. “How’ve you been?”

“Julius! Better, i guess.” Juliusz heard something that seemed like someone getting up from the rusty hospital beds. “Haven’t heard from you in a bit, old man.” 

 “Old man?” He laughed. “I’d like to see you call Thomas that, i’m barely his age.” 

“He’s my supervisor,” Michael quips. “We’re basically equals, Company Accountant, Company Lawyer.” He drags on, his tone visibly amused.

“Equals? Don’t forget who helped you study for your Worcester course, because it damn well wasn’t Tommy.” 

“I still don’t know what i need risk analysis for.” 

“That’s what I thought in university as well. And i haven’t used it since.” Both laughed, Michael’s voice disturbed from time-to-time by the telephone signal. “Uh, listen, i’m calling to ask you. Is it fine if i come by tomorrow?” Juliusz changed his position, now more hunched over the telephone.

“Fine? Sure you can, yeah. The only people that come visit me are mum and Thomas, and both pester me about me having to rest, not work.” This earned an eye-roll from the lawyer, it seemed like everything Michael did was work. He didn’t blame the kid for having ambitions or being loyal to the company, but he didn’t want Michael to get all his life-satisfaction out of work. He knew that all-too-well.

“Because they’re right. You got shot. I’ll only bring a few things you need to sign, but other than that, i’ll bring you nothing but my fun-loving spirit.” Juliusz said, sarcastically.

“Sure, you will.” Michael chuckled, then cleared his throat. “Would you bring me some whisky? I haven’t-”

“No. I know what kinds of pills they’ve got you on.” His voice turned stern, with a mix of concern. “You can’t mix that with alcohol, even i know that. It’s like snow.” 

“Speaking of which, will you need any?” Michael asked with genuine intent, casually, as if he’s telling his colleague about a cigarette. 

Out of a corner of his eye, he could see Ms. Ross leaving the office, pale as paper.

“...No, i’ve stopped.” He was met with silence from Michael. Juliusz sighed. “Really, this time.”

“That’s good Jul, i won’t tell you anything.” There’s a silence for a few seconds, then Michael says again, softer. “How about some Morphine? For your hands, i’m sure i can sneak some from the nurses.” 

“Oh no, i’ve heard what Morphine did for Thomas.” Juliusz sighs. “I’ll be fine Michael, don’t get into trouble on my behalf. You worry about yourself kid.” 

“Tommorow?” 

“Yeah, i’ll see you.”

Like clockwork, Thomas rushed out of his office, almost as if experiencing tunnel-vision, only coming to a halt when he sees Juliusz put down the telephone receiver. Before he could even say a word, the lawyer stopped him.

“It was Michael.” Juliusz tried his best not to sound annoyed, which didn’t work almost immediately when Thomas gave him one of his empty, blue stares, which usually meant calculating distrust. “Fucking hell, shall i call him again and let you ask him yourself?” He remarked, in an ironic, tired tone. He felt like he’s a teenager with overbearing parents. Only Juliusz isn’t dealing with a worried mother, but a grown man.

“Very well then.” Tommy said in one big exhale. “Do you know where Arthur is?"

“Haven’t seen him today, i’d call the other office if i were you.”

“I’ll go there.” He nods, immediately turning to leave. There was something about the way he was acting. Rushing step, wider, more alert eyes. 

“What’s happening?” Juliusz takes a step after Thomas, confused. “What did Ms. Ross want?”

“Nothing important. I’m dealing with business.” He raises his hand as if to signal ‘stop’.

“What kind of business?” 

“Blinder business.” Tommy reaches for the door and opens it, looking over his shoulder. “Nothing important to you.” 

The door closes with a silent click, leaving the office almost devoid of sound. Juliusz takes a deep breath, releases it, and after a moment, puts down the telephone speaker way harder than he should’ve.

***************

God, he hates this office. 

Don’t get him wrong, he loves Small Heath, everything about it, except this old betting shop turned office. He’s worked here temporarily only two times. Once, when the plumbing in the Company offices made the floors flood with sewage, and since the Italians came to town. Somehow, Thomas seems more full of shit now than then. 

Juliusz packs the last things he needs for the hospital and checks the clock, almost an hour to go. Just as he was finishing packing up for his visit at the hospital when, just as yesterday, Thomas stopped by his desk on his way out the office.

“Where are you going?” 

“I could ask you the same question.” He deadpans, but when his remark is met with the same icy stare, Juliusz sighs. “I’m visiting Michael in the hospital.” Thomas only nods and turns to leave without a word, again.

“Where are you going?!” Juliusz bitches after Thomas, frustrated and angry.

“Business.” This time he doesn’t even look at him, too occupied by whatever’s on his mind, which looking at him, you could immediately deduct the ‘Shelby mastermind’ was hard at work in that brain of his.

“Oh fuck off, what if i need to reach you?” He glanced at the telephone, not sure if willingly. “What if they call?”

“They won’t.” He says over his shoulder, making Juliusz even more perplexed. “Close the office after yourself, will ya?” And there he went, and Juliusz felt like he’s the crazy one. Is he the crazy one, or is Thomas slowly rubbing off of him?

It took everything in him not to release his frustration on the poor flowers Linda helped him pick out for Michael. Instead, his walk to the hospital took him ten minutes, instead of the usual twenty.

****************

He pushed the door open with his back into the sterile, but oddly home-y room. The strong strands of sunshine rested atop the wooden table, hospital bed, and Michael himself, who immediately upon hearing the door open looked up from a file.

“I come in and see you working again, i’ll burn those reports in the chimney.” He sighed as he laid out both his briefcase and a large paper bag on the table, along with a small bouquet of flowers. Michael slowly approached the table and sat down, immediately inspecting the mix of dandelions, yellow roses and sunflower petals.

“These are nice, but i’m afraid i like you only as a friend.” The younger man said with a teasing grin, but still put the bouquet next to the ones his mother and other coworkers gave him.

“Very funny.” Juliusz rolled his eyes, but still chuckled. “Whatever will my foolish heart do, the man twelve years my junior doesn’t reciprocate my very true and real feelings.” He exaggerated a theatrical speech, receiving a laugh from Michael.

“What’s there?” He points to Juliusz’s briefcase. 

“Some documents regarding the budget, you only need to sign them.” He hands them to Michael, figuring it’s better to get the ‘official’ part of his visit over as soon as possible. The boy signs them one-by-one with identical motions of his pen, then slides them back to Juliusz. “Thank you.” The lawyer says, stuffing them back where he took them from.

“Here, they’re from my mum.” Michael tosses him a red-green apple, which Juliusz barely catches. “Uh, the other mum.” 

“Oh my god, these are delicious.” He’s not sure if they’re that good, or if his body will accept any kind of breakfast as an ambrosia. He takes another bite, nope, they’re that good.

“I know!” Michael bites into one as well. “You can’t get something like this from the city anymore, they don’t smell like coal.” 

“True.” Juliusz nods. “The city ones aren’t as juicy.” 

Silence, a pleasant one, for the first time since that drink with Changretta, which says a lot about what kind of tension was rising in the office. Michael looked as if he was internally debating something, a thin line appearing between his eyebrows, which year-by-year grows thicker.

“Tommy came by recently.” He blurts out finally, looking to the side. Oh, that makes sense. He’d have to know sooner or later, Thomas must have taken it upon himself.

“He told you?” Juliusz was almost sure he knew what Michael meant. 

“Yeah.” He nods. “How’ve you been getting on with the Italians?” There seems to be the smallest glimpse of concern in Michael’s tone. He leans forward in his chair, but tries not to disturb his wound too much.

“Somehow better than with Thomas.” Juliusz sighs. “He seems so paranoid around me now, how can i actually help when i don’t know anything? Not to mention that i haven’t been able to give the Italians anything more than he permits me to, useless documentation that Changretta doesn’t even need.” His fidgeting with the apple stem makes it snap.

“What did you want from Changretta in exchange for Tommy?” he throws the apple core in a bin nearby. “From the Italians’ perspective, at least.” The smallest of smirks appears on his lips. 

“...My life. My name was on a bullet.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. Juliusz didn’t want to say anything about Michael or anyone else being involved in his ‘truce’ with Changretta. They don’t have to know, the only thing that matters is that they’re safe for the time being. “It isn’t anymore, for now.” As if on instinct, he put his hand in his jacket’s inner-pocket, along with the tin cigarette holder and a pack of matches, the cool sensation of a bullet stood out. He took out the cigarettes, only to be stopped by Michael. 

“You can only smoke on their balcony.” He nods towards the nurses’ room. “How about you go and I look at what else you got for me here?” Michael winks and reaches into the brown bag on the table, his eyes widening when he sees the whisky bottle hidden between some clothes Polly packed for him and a few treats.

“Hey, that’s only if you don’t drink it after taking your meds, got it?” Juliusz slaps Michael’s hand away as he stood up.

“Mhm.” He hums, still looking at the amber bottle like he’d definitely drink it the second Juliusz turns his back. A stern glare from the Pole makes Michael roll his eyes. “Yes, i won’t drink it after the pills. You're the best.” Juliusz nods approvingly and takes one last big bite from the apple.

“You wouldn't say that if i didn't get it for you, you brat.” He says with his mouth full. "I'll be back."

“Some of the nurses here are really nice, chat one of them up, i’m not going anywhere.” Michael takes this opportunity to rest his feet on Juliusz’s chair, already ogling the work-related papers. 

The balcony in the nurses room was fortunately open to all visitors, looking over the back of the hospital. The last nurse on break was a clearly overworked middle-aged lady, for whom he was happy to light the cigarette. Even more so when she had no intention of initiating conversation or offering any unnecessary and costly treatment. As Juliusz slowly enjoyed his cigarette, his mind wandered back to the peculiar item in his pocket.

Hm, at least they spelt it correctly, was the first thought he had when Juliusz held up the bullet, the sun reflecting its gold-brown metal and grey scratches. He rubbed his thumb along the bullet, before hiding it again. He looked up at the sky.

Is it midday already?

BAM!

Juliusz, as if on instinct, ducked and covered his head.

.

.

.

Nothing. After the shot, the hospital was surprisingly quiet, only the sound of a few footsteps, crash of a door, and the muffled cries of the nurse next to him. The footsteps ceased just next door.

Oh no.

Michael.

He shushed the nurse and took out a small handgun out the holster strapped to the small of his back. Out of the balcony, he had to force himself not to sprint and bash into Michael’s room. Warily, he made his way down the corridor, passing next to a shot Peaky Blinder. The bright wall behind the poor man now a glistening, bloody mess. The smell of fresh blood was sickening, Juliusz looked away and took a deep breath, just like they taught him. Just as he approached Michael’s door, he heard muffled voices, more accurately, A muffled voice. He slowly comes closer, as he hears whoever was inside approach to the exit

Step He raises his gun to eye-level.

Step He focuses on a spot where a person would have their head.

Step, click He takes a breath as he hears the door open-

Step- A figure steps out, he disables the safety with a loud click, which makes the man perk up. An all-too-familiar man. It’s Changretta, Luca motherfucking Changretta. He slowly raises his hands, but doesn’t seem too bothered by the gun pointed at him. Juliusz could swear that for a brief moment, Changretta appeared surprised to see him, only to once again put on his usual smug demeanour.

“Ferenz! Fancy seeing you here.” He stepped forward, motioning the other men he was with to follow. “I was actually gonna call, but-”

“We had a fucking deal.” He growled 

“And it’s not broken, the boy’s fine.” Changretta vaguely motioned in the direction of Michael’s room. Loud voices rang outside the hospital, sounding like people trying to break the hospital’s doors open. “Now if you wanna shoot me, be my fucking guest, but do it now before your idiot friends get here.” Juliusz came forward and shoved the Italian back a step, and looked inside the boys’ room. Michael was fine, merely shook, looking between his friend and the Italian at his gunpoint. He could just shoot him, be done with it. Everyone would be happy. Yet, when he imagined the blood splatter from the Italian’s head, and the life drain from his already dark eyes, his body at the place of the man he passed in the corridor, he felt a tug inside himself, and couldn't find on what to blame it for this time. Ferenz sighed and took his finger off the trigger.

God, why is he so weak

“Go.” He stepped back and nodded at the corridor. He felt angry, not sure if at himself or the smug bastard in front of him, who took his granted freedom and used it to rush forward where Juliusz motioned.

“You’re goin’ too.” As Changretta passed him, Juliusz felt a tug, this time at his shoulder when he was basically dragged along with the Italians.

“What?!” He basically shouted as they sprinted across the corridors, though he was less sprinting, and more being pulled to their step.

“I need you for something, c’mon.”

“Why? What does ‘something’ mean?” Juliusz finally twists himself from Changrettas grip, but still running side by side with him. “What did you want with Michael?” They pressed their backs against the corridor wall, just before two turns, left and right.

“This and other fascinating questions will be answered in the car, my friend.” Luca replied as he looked around both corners. “Now don’t get your panties in a twist. Which way?” 

“Oh go fuck yourself.” Juliusz muttered. “Left.” He followed up immediatly, which was only met with a chuckle from Changretta as they ran for the exit, with a black Rolls Royce already waiting for them.

*****************

If someone told Juliusz a week ago that he’d spend his afternoon squished between two Italians in the backseat of a car, he’d laugh at you, or maybe he’d assume you meant a totally different kind of encounter, which would also be paired with a laugh. 

But now, with the man on his left, Matteo and the nuisance on his right, who was in the middle of reading a newspaper, Juliusz truly felt like fate is a very bored man dead-set on making his life hell. Maybe if Matteo didn’t confiscate his gun the second they were out of the hospitals’ viscinity, Juliusz would again briefly think of shooting both of them, or himself, he hadn’t yet decided.

“Will you finally answer my question?” Juliusz mutters, still looking ahead, arms crossed. The outside view of endless forest didn’t entertain him that much, but it was still better than awkward eye-contact with Matteo or glaring at Luca.

“Which one?” Changretta says, turning to another page of the newspaper.

“Where the hell are we going?” He finally turns to look at the Italian.

“To a place Darby let us use, not far. There’s business in London i’ll need you for.” He drawled. “You know Sabini’s and Solomon’s businesses?”

“Solomons’ more than Sabinis, but yes.” Juliusz sighs, pushing up his glasses. “What about Michael?”

“Nice kid.” Changretta muses, flicking the match he was biting down on between his teeth and lips, and Juliusz faught the urge to snap it in half.

“You know damn well what i’m asking you.” 

“You’re not the only one who put Tommy’s neck on the line for him.” Changretta meets his gaze as well. “I just came by to let him know we have a deal.” At first, Juliusz had no idea what Luca was insinuating, but a brief moment later, it’s as if a light turned on in his head. Polly… This doesn’t surprise him, which is odd, because Polly has a strong habit of surprising him. Juliusz pushes the thought aside, he’ll confront her or Michael later.

“You better leave him out of this.” 

“It’s his mother and you who i’m dealing with, that’s enough.” He takes the match and tosses it out the car window.

That seemed to be the end of that conversation, though a few glances at Changretta made Julliusz think something was on his mind. Then again, almost always when he saw him the Italian appeared so. Either somber and toned down, or smug and calculating. Something about his expression, the way he grimaced, stared, or even fidgeted with that damn piece of wood made him appear like he’s distracting himself from something. And just when he thought he was being discreet, Luca’s dark eyes met his green ones. Looking away would just be admitting defeat now. Changretta seems to be considering something, then throws Juliusz a smug smile.

“Back at the hospital, why didn’t you shoot me? Didn’t have it in you?”

“Are you…teasing me for not blowing your head off?” His eyebrows furrow. “If someone has to kill you, let it be one of the Shelbys, it’s none of my concern.” Somehow, this response appeared to satisfy Changretta, who turned to his right-hand-man.

 “Matteo.” His voice changed in a way, even though that usually happens when changing languages, Juliusz couldn’t help but pay close attention, as if he could read the foreign meanings off his lips. “Hai i documenti?” 

 “Vuoi usare LUI per questo? Luca, con rispetto-” He wasn’t sure what he said, but judging from the way Matteo glanced at Juliusz with every word, he could safely assume the Italian didn’t have much trust towards the Pole.

“Just fucking give ‘em.” Changretta makes a motion with his hand that Juliusz would only describe as so very italian. Matteo shrugs and reaches under his seat. 

“Here.” A stack of documents and folders, some looking like they’ve been through better times than this plop onto his lap. “Take it.” Luca taps the files with a ringed finger.

“Why?” Juliusz questions, but still takes the files and quickly skims through the first few. Financial outputs of Italian-owned clubs in London, copies of shares of the South England racetracks, even tax reports. “Why do you have these?”

“I’m planning on making Sabini an offer he can’t resist.” He grins. “I need you to draw up a contract for me. 100% of his businesses, to my family.”

“Don’t you have lawyers for this?” 

“I do, i’m sitting next to him.” Changretta responds nonchalantly, turning his face away from the lawyer, looking out the window.

He actually has a task now. 

He took it as an opportunity to get a closer look. This was everything legitimate Sabini holds record of having, earning or spending. That’s the problem though, Juliusz noticed, it’s only everything legal Sabini has to offer. Not thinking twice, he nudges Changretta, not even looking at him, nose still buried deep in the documentation. 

“You don’t have everything.”

“Hm?” The noise makes him think that Changretta may have just been taken out of a daydream.

“I know Sabini owns a lot more properties and businesses than meets the eye. He just owns them through different people and companies, for tax purposes. I’d know, we do it as well.” He opens one of the tax reports, pointing at a company name, one of their ‘brother companies’, functioning only to hold assets for Sabini. “If you want the entire Sabini empire, i’ll need their papers as well.”

“...” Luca takes a moment to look between Juliusz and what he’s pointing out, then takes the document out of his hands, skimming it through. “Consider it done.” He closes it and gives it back to Juliusz, the sound of his approval oddly satisfying to the lawyer.

“Great.” 

“You got until tomorrow, that good?” Luca raises an eyebrow at him.

“Perfect.” For a while, Juliusz tried to put down the papers and leave them until he comes back home, but not a second later turns to Luca. “Do you have a pen?”

“Matteo?” 

“Pencil only.” The Italian takes out a small pencil out of his jacket.

“Even better.” He clarified whilst arranging the documents in a different, more organised order. When Matteo passed him a comically tiny pencil, he let out a fast ‘thankyou’ and in the blink of an eye transformed his part of the backseat into a pile of papers. Now this was where he shined, a horrendously boring reading for most, exciting underlining for him. Everything to be used for later when he’s back at his desk. As odd as it may be, finally getting a task from the Italians is satisfying, and later he’ll have something to tell Thomas to make him happy. He worked with the smallest of smiles on his face. In the fervor of dates, taxes and company shares, Juliusz didn’t even notice Changretta looking at him. From his fingers shuffling page to page like a dealer handling cards, or how his eyes raced left-to-right as he read, there seems to be something endearing in someone who’s in their element. Luca opened his newspaper again, but didn't continue reading it.

Now, if someone told Juliusz a week ago that he’d possibly spend his afternoon trying to move a wagon with some Italians, he’d laugh at you as well.

Yet there he was, getting out of the car as Changretta threw a “C’mon poindexter, try not to break your glasses” in his direction, which, at this point, Juliusz didn’t even bother to grace with a talkback. 

Winter hadn’t dwelled harshly in the Birmingham area, if he didn't know any better, he'd assume it was typical gloomy authumn. Though the dirt road underneath them crackled as if not so long ago it had been completely frozen.

“What’s this?” Matteo walked up front. “Whose wagon is that?” He got immediately stopped by the policeman, as if this trashed wagon is somehow a sensitive crime scene.

“They’re gypsies.” he blurted out. “Tribe of fucking gypsies.”

An alarm rang inside Juliusz’s head, something surely wasn’t right. The tussle between Matteo and the lawman didn’t help ease whatever was hanging in the air.

“I said that it’ll be clear in 20 minutes.”

Something definitely isn’t right. He glanced at Luca and was met with a similar look. Both men seemingly having a smililar gut feeling.

"Let's go." He nodded in the direction of the car. "We'll find another way outta here."

When the man he got introduced to before as 'Frankie' hadn't started the car yet, they just assumed he couldn't hear them. The second time Luca called out to him, they thought there must have been something wrong with him and/or the car.

With his head leaned back, exposing the cleanily slit neck, crimson, already slowly clogging blood oozing out of it, chaos erupted.

Shots fired just above their heads, some putting holes in the Italians' hats as they got out of the car to fight back.

Juliusz pressed his back against the Rolls Royce, heart pounding as he realised just what was happening. Aberama Gold, thats what was happening.

Another Italian fell to the ground, while more bullets pierced the cars' body. Bullets whistled in the air just like they did all these years ago.

Gold must be here from the order of Tommy. The Blinders must have known Juliusz went with the Italians. Tommy must have known. Why were they ambushing them with him right there, when-

Something cold pressed against his palm. He looked down. Changretta is giving Juliusz his gun back.

"Cover me, yeah?" His voice was raised, with more than an ounce of panic in it, cracking at places.

He didn't need to be asked twice, he's not dying out of friendly fire from the Golds anytime soon. Juliusz takes a deep breath, and sticked his head out slightly, shooting wherever he saw movement, not to kill, but to scare off and buy Luca the few seconds he needed to get the car running.

"DUCK!" Juliusz shouted when he saw Gold's son aim a shot clearly meant for Luca as he was trying to get to the steering wheel. It just ended up a bullet in Frankies' already dead brain.

Never before would he think he'd be so relieved to hear an engine turn on.

With Changretta maneuvering the car out of the bridge, and with Matteo and Juliusz emptying their magazines to hell, they barely made it out the forest and into a typical, empty english field.

They damn near fell out the car when Luca stopped the engine. The only sound being the distressed and tired breaths of three men after a brief date with death.

Then, you could hear the music of two Italian men shouting at eachother, and one Polish man puking his guts out on the side of the road.

"Holy shit." Juliusz drew a sharp breath as he wiped his lips, trying his best to compose himself after the initial adrenaline started to wear off. "Kurwa mać." He could hear the italians slowly calm as well.

"Fuck, you alright?" Luca calls out to him.

"Yeah, fucking peachy." He wheezes out, exhausted, not sure if more mentally or physically, or both, probably.

"They got two of ours." Matteo pointed in the direction of the woods they drove out of. "What do we do?" This question seemed to put Changretta even more on edge, frustration gradually building up.

"CAZZO!" He kicked the car, luckily it being so beyond repair, it didn't seem to mind. Luca ran his hand through his hair, now noticing he has lost his hat somwhere in the middle of the ordeal. "All right, change of fuckin' plans. Ferenz, you still got that contract to make. Go back to Small Heath, we'll have time for business, i'll call you." He points at Juliusz, not appearing to be asking, but telling. The Pole didn't have it in him to argue at this point.

"I need to make a phonecall to our dear friend Polly." Luca handed Juliusz the files out of the car, still holding them when the other man tries to take them. "Be safe." He lets go.

As he got dropped off at a safe distance, instead of heading to a place like home, preferably into the arms of his bed and a hefty bottle of whisky, he turned to Small Heath, where he'll kick Thomas' Shelbys' fucking teeth in.

******************

Translations:

Niewiarygodne - Unbelievable

Hai i documenti? - Do you have the documents?

Vuoi usare LUI per questo? Luca, con rispetto - Do you want to use HIM for this? Luca, with respect-

Kurwa mać - Fucking Hell

Cazzo - Fuck

[night-wilf]

New assistant duties

Appears @stealingyourbones found a job! Hope ya like it bud.

The large doors of the throne room creaks open slowly, a skeletal face peeking through the gap to look around before entering. Their awkward shuffling making Danny slightly amused and he catches the guest’s attention. “It’s fine to approach or whatever, just taking a break from paperwork right now.” His monotone reply brings the young ghost up to the steps quickly. Nervous at meeting the King for the first time.

They fumble with some paper and find the right one. “Uh I am here to request permission to travel to the DC universes to retrieve from books borrowed from the personal collection.” They seem proud to have not stumbled over any words and smile at Danny. He scans the younger ghost closely.

Their waistcoat midnight blue with black stripes down the panels, the adjustment straps on the side pulled tight to fit their ribcage properly. Their shirt underneath is a lighter blue with slight puff at the shoulder seams. The dark grey trousers are an odd choice with the mismatched and poorly tied converse they are wearing. An elbow length undershirt and gloves, both black, largely cover what still shows of their body.

He sits up at what they say and he knows the Ghost writer recently got an assistant and is very particular around his books being returned on time. “Ghost writer’s new assistant right?” ‘Celia Bones’ nods and tries to keep their cool. Danny only sighs a little and smiles back to calm their nerves. “Go ahead, just don’t disrupt critical timeline moments.” Celia walks out the castle skipping with pride and flies for the first portal going to their destination, hoping to make their new employer happy.

-

The swirling worm hole spots them out in the middle an office that goes quiet at their appearance, not too bothered by the silence and finding the nearly 7 foot tall humanoid alien in the break room. “Mr. Kent? You have some overdue books. They are from the personal collection so I have been sent to ask you return them.”

Clark stares at the walking skeleton for a second and sips his coffee. “They’re in my bag, I’ll grab them.” He smiles and guides the walking spirit to his desk where he pulls out a couple books on historical writing styles and a few random topics. He puts them inside a small wormhole as requested and signs a form that he’s returned the books as requested.

Celia smiles and it is all finished. “Thank you Mr. Kent. Have a good day.”

-

They step through a portal opened behind them and continue to the lavish party held in a manor. The host of the party being Bruce Wayne who they approach as he breaks away from some guests looks round at hearing them speak. “Excuse m-“

“Holy fuck!” Bruce jumps at seeing Celia and takes a moment to gather himself. “Sorry for swearing, you caught me off guard. How can I help you?” He hides his freak out internally and takes the 5 page list of books his sons have borrowed and neglected to return. Not even surprised most of them are all some of ‘ancient weapons and techniques for beginners’ and more advanced versions of the novels. He sighs and calls for them all to return the books because it is all from a personal collection with a very pissed owner. He doesn’t have to guess why the assistant was sent instead.

The heavy novels are all begrudgingly brought downstairs and dumped into the portal that is opened, Bruce not even questioning how they managed to get the things in the first place. Celia has them all sign their separate lists and gets one of Bruce’s favourite books back seeing it in a list for someone else which was a mistake.

-

The next place is disaster site where Flash is talking to some officers, Celia patiently waiting and isn’t surprised when he jumps. “Hey little… never mind, you need something?” He smiles and looks at the list he’s handed.

“These books are overdue and are part of a private collection.” Barry realises and says he’ll be back, zipping back in a few seconds with all the books on the list and few others he’s also borrowed. Though not from the personal collection. “And if you sign here it will be all done.” Celia smiles when he’s done and checks their list.

“Thanks for the reminder bud, hope the rest go well.” Barry smiles and speeds off after making sure Celia gets through their portal okay. “What a nice kid, might just borrow a book again to see them.” He smiles.

-

The darker version of Diana Prince slams the poor soul’s head into the ground, looking round with the same anger to the skeleton who squeaks and covers their face with their arms. “Please don’t hurt me! I’m just here to get some books back.” The strange reaction makes her pause and remember she borrowed some ancient books on necromancy.

“Oh right. I’ll go get them.” She ‘smiles’ and disappears, one of the few people she will not try to kill is the assistant of the cosmic librarian. That just makes her situation worse and she already wants this thing to be over with.

Celia has to tape the sheet back together when she signs and places a bill for damage on Diana’s back when she turns around. How disrespectful : (

-

Celia becomes quite excited with the next one and hops back over to Gotham to find Patrick O’Brian, aka Plastic man. They love his humour in the comics and are incredibly excited to meet him in person. Their excitement almost exploding when they actually see him as he gets some kids down from a tree.

“Sir- Plastic man uh… Yo- You have some books overdue.” Their stutter amuses Patrick a little and he stretches up to where he was perching for a bit. He hands over the books and chuckles as Celia scramble to get the list for him to sign.

“You seem a fan, must a read about me.” He smiles and Celia smiles back, not mentioning he’s a comic book character to them. He finishes up and happily signs their notebook presented for an autograph. “New job?”

“First week actually. I’m hoping to impress the King with my work.” They get a head pat and assured they will do fine. Patrick leaves and hears the distant squeal of happiness from his little fan, chuckling a little at this reaction.

-

Celia gets back to the library to a happy Ghost Writer who just laughs a little at their happiness knowing they are a fan of Plastic man. “I made sure he was on the list for you.” He gets a hug for this and lets Celia go for the day to relax and work off the energy from their happiness.

Needless to say there were some noise complaints in the end.

[brynnmclean]

twenty questions for fic writers

I was tagged by @stitchingatthecircuitboard! Thanks, friend! This was fun! :D

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

54! Though some of them are ficlet collections that I might separate out, if I could do it all over again.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

180,644

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently, Rings of Power / the Tolkien Legendarium (including Silm, LotR, The Hobbit).

Previously, Rogue One, Star Wars sequel trilogy, broke ground writing fic for a m/m Viking romance novel Brothers of the Wild North Sea (it made me so happy), and the tiniest bit of Black Sails.

Before that, a LOT of Supernatural fic, some Being Human US, and LOST.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

cast some light & you'll be all right, 4.5k Explicit Rogue One Rebelcaptain fic where Cassian doesn't like one-sided sex and Jyn isn't used to having a partner who wants to make time for her. They figure it out!

waiting to step forward, 3k Explicit Rogue One Rebelcaptain fic, the direct sequel to cast some light featuring Cassian Andor: Cunnilingus Addict again

I waited for the crash to come, 17k Rogue One Rebelcaptain ficlet collection -- one of those ones that I suppose I could have separated out, but it feels way too late to do it now! There are a lot of ficlets that I love in there though.

beneath the stars, 4k Kíli/Tauriel Hobbit AU where Thranduil hosts a party and Kíli and Tauriel get to dance together and smooch :)

I wanna hurry home to you, 2k Explicit Rogue One Rebelcaptain fic, ALSO part of the cast some light 'verse, sex interrupted by a stand-up meeting, sex continued after the meeting, lol

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to respond to them as they come, but I have DEFINITELY run into the problem where I haven't responded to some of them and the more time passes, the worse I feel about not responding, and then it just-- anyway, if you've ever sent me a very nice comment that I haven't responded to, please know that I saw it, cried about how nice it was and how good it made me feel, got slammed by something in life, and now remember you with helpless, wordless gratitude.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't write a lot of angst! But an old old old episode-related fic called exercise in futility for Being Human US, featuring season 1 Aidan who was a MESS, might fit the bill.

Or out of storms comes strength for tomorrow which is a Tauriel-centric, grief processing fic...? but I feel like the ending for that one is more hopeful than not? That's a little more where I like to land. There's light in there somewhere, always.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Either sanctuary (Rogue One crew beach vacation for @eisoj5!) or I used to be a king alone (a May the Fourth Rebelcaptain Date-Shaped Mission or a Mission-Shaped Date).

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I got a couple unpleasant anons during the SPN days over some meta re: fandom reaction to a very large fic project, but otherwise my fandom experience has been kind. I can't remember ever getting hate on my fics in particular, but I have gotten some odd comments before, ranging from "why is [male character] randomly a girl" for a genderqueer / rule 63 fic to "when are [m/f couple] going to have Real Sex" for a smut series.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do! Not as much lately, but the majority of my Rebelcaptain fics were non-PIV (out of spite :D) explicit fics. The first smut fic I wrote was a SPN OT3 with Dean/Castiel/Lisa so... I have a little experience writing threesomes (looking at Galadriel/Celeborn/Halbrand eventually)!

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I have written the beginnings of crossover AUs-- I was kicking around a Rogue One Black Sails AU (was going to be Saw Gerrera-centric, as he's the Flint analog), I have an outline for a Rebelcaptain Bourne Identity AU (Jyn as the GFFA Jason Bourne -- one day I SWEAR I'll give this one a fair shot because I actually do have the rare PLOT OUTLINE), and I wrote a ficlet for a Rogue One Grey Company LotR AU.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I did have a Rebelcaptain ficlet plagiarized once. Many thanks to the anon who alerted me to the situation so I could make a successful removal request.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have not! I have had some fics podficced which were wonderful. :)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I haven't formally co-written a fic with anyone, but I am enjoying the hell out of playing around in the sandbox @rain-sleet-snow and I are hanging out in for the Uncorrupted Mairon AU.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

WOW, I absolutely cannot choose ONE out of ALL of them... If I have to choose... Right now I'm positively feral over Galadriel/Celeborn/Halbrand, but I wrote and will love Jyn/Cassian forever.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Alas... I am not good at finishing fics and I don't often have the discipline to write long-form fic. One of these days I would love to get back to safe house in the hurricane or out of grief joy.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Considering like, 95% of my fics are conversations / dialogue, I think we can consider that a strength!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

PLOT. I'm a pantser. I never know where I'm going next. Also action scenes are extremely difficult!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Thoughts? Cold-sweat terror. Thank you to much smarter people than I am for Elvish translations. Anyone who writes in multiple languages, whether real-world or conlangs, leaves me in awe.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

... LOST, maybe??? @ladytharen helped run a 108 word drabble challenge on LJ that I THINK got me into my first forays of writing fic that wasn't, uh, childhood handwritten scrawling in notebooks for LotR.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Oh!!!! I'm taking a leaf from @stitchingatthecircuitboard's book and going to list three:

I still think out of storms (the Tauriel grief fic) is one of my best

There's so much of my heart in blessed, the Éomer & Éowyn late night conversation fic that also features genderqueer / genderfluid!Éowyn fic-- though damn it, I wish I'd titled the fic better, but it feels too late to change it, lol

and honestly, as rusty as I felt writing it, I really love first flush of hope to carry the grey away, 1k Rebelcaptain not-a-kiss in an alley

tagging: @rain-sleet-snow, @ladytharen, @eisoj5, @heymacareyna, @ichabodjane, and whoever else is reading this and would like to. Consider yourself tagged!

[delicrieux]

…TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS ! ⋆｡°✩

⋆⭒˚.⋆ chapter summary. it's unusual for gojo to have a partner during a mission these days. here you are, anyway.

pairing. gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader warnings for this chapter. gojo is still very much gojo, swearing wc. 5.2k author’s note. O M G guys THERE'S ONLY ONE BED! HOW CAN THERE ONLY EVER BE ONE BED?!?!??!?!?!?

ੈ✩‧₊˚

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | twny masterlist | < back | next >

CHAPTER 5: the missionTM (1)

why are you here?

not in the grand, philosophical sense, but the very literal one. not to diminish your own abilities, but they really don’t hold a candle to gojo. the day gojo satoru was born, the world shifted to make room for him, but it did not shift for you.

gojo does not need backup. frankly, an entourage would slow him down, make a two second fight amp up to five because he’d either want to show off, some bizarre accident would happen involving his colleague, or the curse would attack the weaker link. worst of it all, he might just stand aside and watch the sorcerer and curse sweat it out. for hours, if needed, until his glee simpered to unbearable boredom and then snap and it’s over.

so why are you here? yaga-sensei had vaguely mentioned gojo requiring a chaperone to deal with the mundane matters and make sure he doesn’t go overboard, but that’s a flimsy excuse if you ever heard one. despite his idiotic tendencies and general too easy-going disposition, gojo does understand how trains work, which report to add to which pile, and where to sign off. he just doesn’t bother with the details.

this is gojo’s mission, after all, not yours, even if it was framed otherwise. you would have significant trouble against a special grade, no, wait, two special grades, three maybe if you’re particularly unlucky. the exact number isn’t clear. all you know is that suspicious activity was recorded in some remote village between hitoyoshi and miyazaki. suspicious enough to warrant a personal visit from one of, if not the, strongest sorcerers on earth.

gojo does not need backup, and if he did, getou would have been a better choice all around. getou likely wouldn’t mind being stuck in a bullet train with gojo for roughly ten hours. gojo might’ve even updated the shoddy middle-class seats (curtsy of the stingy budget of jujutsu tech) to first class from his bottomless pocket. maybe he would’ve switched to plane tickets. or better yet, a private jet!

he could’ve done it now and finished off the curses before you arrived. he could’ve at least updated his seat, left you all on your lonesome. blissfully, you would’ve watched the scenery pass by, napped, listened to your favorite music, read a book. you are reading a book.

gojo, with his chin almost resting on your shoulder, is reading it with you.

“god, you read slow,” he mumbles, breath hitting the shell of your ear, “turn the page.”

if you flee any further, you’ll be glued to the window. another tactic done to unnerve you, and you’d be lying if you said it isn’t working. he’s too close and too comfortable. why are you here?

“you dyslexic?” he questions, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s wearing a small, playful smile.

“no,”

“was i supposed to believe you just now?” it’s a full on grin now, and he tilts his head to make sure you can see it.

“your breath stinks.”

“think it’s yours.”

“move, then.”

he does move; settles back hovering right over your shoulder, knee and thigh to yours. just like it’s been since you sat down, which was about an hour ago.

“you gonna finish today, or are you going for next year? c'monnnnn."

you are tempted to read even slower just to annoy him. how are you supposed to imagine the moving scenes and heartfelt dialogue if you just breeze past it? it’s just like gojo to skip to the good part.

“shoulda brought your own book if it’s so troublesome for you,” you finally flip the page. he hums.

“’m thoroughly entertained.”

you raise an eyebrow. side-eye. this is a novel you picked up at the train station. it was the cheapest and with a somewhat embarrassing cover of a man sensually holding a faceless woman. it reminded you of a few books you’ve seen at utahime’s, and naturally, you were intrigued. it’s a bit awkward to have it between your hands, but it’s pretty funny in how absurd it is.

“you like these types of books?”

he snorts; from behind his glasses, he gives you a pointed look, “no. the hell do you take me for?”

“how defensive.”

“it’s the truth. but i do wonder if kagai-chan will end up with iyazaki, or if she’ll choose the mysterious benefactor in the end. which would you pick?”

you consider the question, weigh the pros and cons of both bachelors. iyazaki and the benefactor are both terrible, only in different ways, “third option: neither.”

“no, you gotta pick,” he repeats petulantly, “here, imagine,” he presses two fingers to your temple, and stab stab stab stab, “i’m holding a gun to your head. choose one.”

“the gun would go off.”

“no fun.”

the two of you settle back to reading after that.

*

sometime between shimonoseki and kitakyushu, you grow sleepy. the compartment is conditioned, but sitting by the sunlit window has made you pleasantly warm. there’s the rumble of the train against your spine, and the pretty glimmer of the sea outside.

it surprises you, suddenly, how normal everything has turned out. you anticipated far worse: screaming babies, foul smells, drunk salary-men, that guy who stands near the exit and then just leans on the doors. it's quiet besides the monotone buzz of chatter. the muted grind of tracks.

gojo's quiet, too, you realize, save for the occasional grumble.

"it's all lies. god. ridiculous. you're gonna fall for it?"

you glance at him. his chin is resting in the palm of his hand as he peruses the book. you had abandoned it a while back, letting him read the rest since he was too interested in the ending, even if he claimed otherwise. he squints at a passage, chuckling every now and then, and you can't tell if his reactions are genuine or a fabrication to tease you.

"kami," he finally says, turning to you; what happened to respect? "this book sucks." he snaps it shut.

"who did kagai-chan end up with?"

"what do you think?" he moves the hand not propping his chin, and the air moves, gently, and settles.

"iyazaki?"

"duh. a boring, generic ass."

you hum, and for the sake of arguing, say, "she loves him, so."

his smile twitches, and he's staring for a moment, "but the guy sucks. totally. super sucks. and kagai-chan knows this, too."

"still..."

"that doesn't make him any less of a sucky, horrible guy."

"yup," you're grinning wider, "but he's her love interest. besides," you tap your finger on the cover, "with muscles like that? how could she resist."

he huffs, a frown tugging the corners of his mouth down, and something else too, in the faint wrinkle between his brows, "i could beat him."

"you're a jujutsu sorcerer,"

"even if i was an asthmatic non-jujutsu sorcerer, i would be able to beat him."

"didn't take you to be this prideful about... mundane muscle size."

"my arms," he tugs and forces your palm against the taught muscle, "have you even felt them? shit's crazy, babe."

your brain stumbles a bit. babe again? it didn’t sound intentional like last time, more like a slipup. but not just that – him using you as a way to show his superiority through the non-falsification of the toned state of his bicep. you leave your hand there, oddly impressed. of course gojo could beat iyazaki without much trouble, even without his cursed technique. you know this, and you have felt his hands (unwillingly), but you have never felt him flex.

"impressed?" he raises an eyebrow, smug and expectant.

"if your ego grows any further, it might get stuck up your ass," you say, done with your inspection. what to do with this information? you decide you will forget about it, as you try with all gojo-related things.

he scoffs, and a crease reappears between his brows. maybe if you poked his cheek, you could pop that stubbornness right out of him. you are tempted. it would irritate him. it's usually getou who can pull off these type of stunts without repercussion.

maybe you shouldn't try, lest he chew your finger off.

…since when does the thought of touching him besides trying to squeeze the life out of his throat not repulse you? you must be tired.

"take a picture, it'll last longer." he offers, with his best fake-sweet smile.

"ha. never," and he looks down and away, then. and when you go to place the book atop the table-tray, you don't miss how he moves his hand to touch where yours had rested before.

*

by the time you arrive to kumamoto, which isn't where you'll be stopping, you’re in an awkward position you realize will not do you any favors later.

it’s not your fault. you had fallen asleep unexpectedly, and you don’t really remember when.

there's an odd heat on your nape. heavy, but somehow, still soft. not stifling. almost pleasant, really, and you're leaning into it before you notice yourself, and you still don't open your eyes as the awareness trickles. it's not sunlight warming the sensitive skin, it's gojo.

when did he slump so low? his forehead is rests against your shoulder, his breath puffing slowly, steadily against your neck. a little embarrassed at your ignorance and also mortified because this was not the situation you agreed to, you come to another realization – gojo satoru is sleeping.

and it would have been fine – hilarious, and even mildly enjoyable to have your petty revenge for months of pestering, but unfortunately, and it’s always unfortunately, your plans are fumbled before they can come to fruition. gojo wakes just then, in a sluggish and poorly-timed manner that leaves his nose brushing the dip of your shoulder and a sleep-deep groan rumbling right into you.

"whatimizit?"

"i dunno," you mutter, body paralyzed, "were you actually asleep just now?"

"think so,” he utters, words warm and low, still sleep-hazy. his breath feels hot against you. you are oddly squeamish, and for the strangest, most irrational of reasons, “your shoulder’s really uncomfortable, by the way.”

“…okay?” what sort of response was he expecting to his creepy observation? somewhere in the shadowy corners of your mind, surely you have some drivel to throw at him. nothing comes to mind, just the scent of his shampoo. lavender. how can such a harsh person use lavender?

"like, as expected."

"getoffme."

"hm," it tumbles low and vibrates around your jaw, "give me a moment. just like, five more seconds."

he mumbles those words, like he has the right to play sleep-drunk. it irks you, "stop pretending. move already."

"dun want to."

"who cares? go."

he takes a few breaths, like he's bracing himself, "...alright," he submits, though doesn't for a moment.

he does eventually settle back in his seat, the distance a sudden, welcome reprieve. it's cold without him, you note in the deepest corner of your brain. the most abominable pit where all the gooey juice and nonsense reside, like when you have a fever and are too delirious to distinguish mind-bending horrors from reality.

but there are more pressing matters. like your pride and dignity, which are likely shattered. you would normally never put your guard down like that, especially around him. you dig through your bag for a compact mirror with haste you don’t try to mask, because he definitely took advantage of you and likely drew some lewd things on your forehead with a water-proof sharpie.

he already took advantage of your innocently presented shoulder, so what’s to stop him at just that?

"there's no dick," he confirms as you open the small mirror, the obvious signs of tired amusement coloring his words, "relax."

you will not. you cannot.

"ha, ha, really cute," gojo goes, then yawns and stretches, "'got you."

"don't call me that," you grit out. you are too shaken by this, for this. for this.

"how come? nicknames make a great weapon," he pushes his bangs back, unruly strands pointing back in his wake. his smile is stupid, as always. you want to throw your compact at his head.

"would it kill you to act serious for five seconds?"

"yes," and you sigh. there’s no winning. he shifts to the side, then leans close and peers through the reflection with you, "you are kind of cute, tho. in a way like a sad-looking stuffed animal would be."

"thanks."

"like, dirty, wrangled, limp, even rotting—"

"okay, thanks, you can stop describing just how unhappy you find me now."

"it was meant as a compliment."

you do hit him. he's the strongest, and he still squeaks, hands coming up to his arm, wounded and pouting. you get out your makeup to fix the mess of mascara under your eyes and ignore the dumbfounded stare directed at you.

"...ow."

 you continue with your work, unfazed.

"do you actually put makeup on when you're on missions? cuz, kinda weird, don't you think?" he has no filter.

"looking your best is not just for aesthetic reasons, no matter how shallow that may sound. confidence is important," you nod sagely and set to fixing the smudge, "besides, what if i get scouted by a modeling agency?"

"doubt it. especially since you're such an old hag," you catch the corner of his lip pulled up, "you'd scare them away."

"you keep saying that if it makes you feel better," you state.

"and you know, you'll never find yourself a decent boyfriend if you don't fix up that face,"

"how do you know i don't have one already?" you add a bit more color to your lips, careful not to press too hard. you make it look nice and natural.

"not possible," you feel his gaze burn your face, but you can't tell exactly where he's looking. the urge to glance and check is almost unbearable, but you resist. instead, you close the mirror.

"so possible," you twist to get it into your bag and bump elbows with him. the physical contact sends a prickly, nauseous sort of chill down your back.

"where is he, then?" he looks around, exaggerated and theatrically, "don't see him."

"too bad."

gojo stares you down for a moment. he does this sometimes: an empty sort of look in which you aren't sure whether he is purposely annoying you or lost in his thoughts. it does bother you that you can't quite pin down the expression behind his blue-glass eyes peeping over the rim of his sunglasses. they say that blue is the most trustworthy and innocent of colors, but there is nothing kind or delicate about the six eyes. beautiful, yes, but so cold.

you feel almost transparent when you hold his gaze, expecting something, but never knowing what.

"hmph," he scoots back further, and you lean away into your corner once more, and now there's more distance between you.

you sneak another peek at him out of the corner of your eye. he has the sun caught in his eyelashes and across his cheeks.

*

the sky has turned an endless purple, dotted with stars that disappear the longer you look. the whole world is quiet

the trek through the prairies is long and boring. your feet hurt, and your back aches from the long train ride. when you asked if he could teleport you, he simply shrugged and said: "too far."

and so, you must locate this village by foot. in the mosquito infested dark. gojo is fine with his infinity, but you are suddenly so so so so sooo grateful for your foresight to bring repellent along. even if gojo complained that it smells bad.

the sky's inky expanse stretches on for miles, the small crescent of moon hanging like a water drop ready to fall.

the grass sways from a cool breeze. you think this is what it must be like being stranded at sea.

"is it much farther?" you ask.

"keep up."

*

it is, in fact, very much farther.

"ha, see, that cloud sorta looks like a cat," he points, and you indulge him only because you’ve resorted to naming all the bones and joints in your arm out of desperation for something to do.

you can't make out the clouds. even for a summer night, it's still too dark.

"mmm, can't tell,"

"look, see the pointy ears? and the snout? it's a cat. why aren't you agreeing?"

"just can't see it." you turn to him. his profile is washed out by the bluish twilight. it reminds you of a painting you've seen in a textbook somewhere, all watercolor pastels.

"it's so clear to me,"

"because you're a freak."

"i’m the normal one here," he shakes his head and sighs as if burdened, "tch, so lame. for your sake, i won't point out all the constellations and all the other cool shit. might start crying on me."

"thanks," you rub an eye and continue walking. the little village, illuminated by lights and lanterns and paper-pinned fireflies, comes into view just as you feel your eyelids grow too heavy to walk and talk anymore.

*

you stare. the hand on the door handle grows tense before it grows taunt. the bone-deep sleepiness is replaced with righteous anger. of course. of course there's only one bed because jujutsu tech can't be bothered to finance an extra. for an institution so important, they sure are stingy.

the small room itself is nothing impressive – plain, but cozy enough. livable and breathable for a single person of average size, but you have an abnormality with you.

to say you’re displeased is an understatement. the thing is: you’re fuming.

"this will not happen,” you decide, shoulders stiff and stomach churning with the measly station dinner you had had – waffles with whipped cream, strawberries, and chocolate syrup. gojo had three plates and an extra ice-cream. you also ate a protein bar on the walk over, but that’s neither here nor there.

gojo raises an eyebrow, looking oddly refreshed despite the hours spent in transit and traveling through an uneven terrain.

"we are not sleeping in the same bed, do you hear me? i refuse. the world could crack down the middle, but there are still some limits."

"you are so—"

"no!" you will not bend on this, "it's too small anyway for your freakishly long limbs!"

"hey," his expression shifts from amused and pleased to somewhat put out, "my limbs are normal, you’re just short,"

"whatever, there's no way i'm doing that. i'll sleep on the ground or in the corner if you can't stay on the floor!"

he sighs and throws his bag onto the bed and lets it bounce, "calm down, you’ll wake everyone up,” and now he has the audacity to chide you, as if he isn’t the problem in this situation, “it’s not that big of a deal. i can scoot and make some space. not like you take up that much anyway. could probably fit you in a suitcase."

is his perception of you truly so warped? there’s no way you’d fit. while you aren’t exactly high-fashion model height, you’re definitely a bit taller than your average japanese woman.

if he means he could forcefully stuff you in a suitcase, well, that’s a different thing all together, because he could definitely do it, but you don’t want to think about that right now. you should be on a war-path instead, undistracted!

"shut up!" you announce, accusing finger pointed and all, “there will be no scooting!” it occurs to you then: perhaps there is some way for you both to survive relatively unscathed and rested, "i will speak to reception. there's gotta be more rooms left!"

"there aren't," he chimes quickly, "all booked."

"how do you know?"

"heh."

he sounds entirely too satisfied and proud of himself, and it makes you suspicious.

you narrow your eyes at him and say, tone flat, "did you do something?"

"what?! no! do you take me for some weird pervert or something?"

"is that a trick question?"

it’s gojo that silently fumes this time, and you sigh, knowing you could both go back and forth all night – a pattern you've learned from prior events, "ugh. they don't got a lot of rooms. it's a small ass town, what do you expect?"

it is obvious he is up to something, but it is just as obvious you will never pry it out of him without first growing a few years older and developing a stronger headache-pain tolerance.

you, decisively, lean on your hip and point to the floor, "fine, then you'll sleep here. clearly, i will be sleeping in the bed."

he peers down at you and then the floor, and makes a funny little expression: a squiggly frown, "what? seriously? are you a kid?"

you have the presence of mind not to stamp your foot as the annoyance bubbles, "you're too tall for the bed anyway!"

"my back hurts," he complains, "so does my ass. i don't wanna sleep on the floor and end up walking like some senile eighty year old tomorrow."

"oh, what? does the great gojo satoru require his bed with silk sheets? the ancient remedy of heating wax and hot water bottles?"

"so rude," he sniffs, crosses his arms, "you're a sorcerer, not a common housewife. what about that chivalry code, huh? am i not worthy of your selfless charity?"

your eye twitches, and he grins at his small triumph.

"no, you're not." you roll your eyes and kick off your shoes, "move."

"could offer me your lap for a pillow or somethin," he mumbles and sits on the mattress, already pulling out his things.

you balk.

you did not hear that right, no way, "... what?"

he shrugs, collecting his pajamas, shampoo, conditioner, shower gel, and a few more glimmering bottles you don’t recognize, "said, was thinking you could just be my pillow? "

you are not a toy. the audacity has you spinning.

"fuck you,"

"is that an invitation, or—“ he yelps and springs from the bed to evade the object, which is apparently your shoe, “right, gotcha!”

"you’re despicable.”

“i’m just teasing, christ,” he fixes his glasses, “didn’t think you’re such a prude.”

your prudishness levels are normal and healthy, thank you very much. this type of conversation would be fine with you if you and gojo were good friends – you might even tease back! but such is not the case, and won’t be for another millennia and more.

at your limit, once again. how does he always manage to plow past your defenses and whirl you into a fit? could he have been born with this talent, or did he develop it after stalking and berating you?

a winner knows how to face defeat.

so be it.

"fine," you submit.

he's startled, breathless and disordered all at once, "what?"

"i'll sleep on the floor," if he expected something else to leave your mouth, he doesn't show it. instead, he scoffs, brushing past you to lock himself in the bathroom.

"fine," is all he says before he shuts the door.

still grumbling, you pull out a thin and stiff futon, place it by the door, then pad the flattening surface with clothes. collect all your many toiletries. even if you will sleep on a less than comfortable surface, that's no reason to skimp out on your skincare routine.

you pretend to be counting and recounting your things, because no way will he see you waiting by the door like some pet.

when all is said and done, and when you emerge from your cold shower, donned in your pajamas and all, gojo is standing by the bed, hands shoved into his sweatpants. no glasses, just pretty blue eyes cast downward and warmed by the mellow lamplight of the room.

"changed my mind," he says.

"k. good night."

you've learnt better by now than to trust his mercurial decisions. so when he follows you and tugs on the edge of your shirt, you send him a leery glance.

"get in the bed," he says, and you're wondering what sort of plot is his twisted mind scheming up this time.

"...why?"

"can't have you hurting that little butt," you shove him with your shoulder and his resulting giggle makes your face pinch together.

"don’t talk about my body like you’re familiar with it.”

“i’m definitely acquainted,” and that protein bar you ate? might see it again in the upcoming seconds. noting your disgusted expression, he rolls his eyes, "just sleep already."

"not gonna until you're away from the bed."

"go ahead, wake up and be cranky in the morning."

"and i will!" you state and toss yourself down, instantly hiding underneath the flimsy blanket. it's by no means cold, and in the morning, you'll likely be sweating, but you don't like how he keeps watching you. he has an odd look about him, eyes open but unfocused and hazy. his own little world in those sapphire blue.

you feel a bit warm.

the sound of cloth against the thin mattress and blankets. the squeak of springs. you have your back turned to him and will stay facing the wall and your closed eyes forever if only so he can't make another weird request.

"why so stiff?" you can hear his smirk through the lilting tone.

"why so dumb?"

"that hurts, you know."

"good. night." you finish that word, clench your hands into fists. when you feel the bed shake again, you prepare yourself for whatever prank he'll pull this time around. the light clicks off, and the room is dark.

you wait and wait and wait, and nothing. you almost wish something would happen. this is weird. gojo? keeping his hands and his words to himself? the same person who won't shut up for a few seconds, even to breathe?

something’s definitely up.

you twist around. he lies, flat on his back, an arm slung across his face. he looks perfectly normal, body limp and relaxed and taking up entirely too much space.

still, there is something odd about his body language – he's practically inviting you to just reach out and—

he lifts the arm off his face, cracks a lid open. that eye glows like a soft nightlight. he is the very picture of innocence. the effect is ruined, however, when his lips curve and form that classic shit-eating grin, “thought you were sleeping,” his tone is warm and dark and so much like the rich chocolate pudding, it brings that pleasant thrum to the back of your head.

the silence stretches on, thickens, turns to fog. you turn away again. you have, perhaps, a sliver of bed left. you will definitely fall during the night, or he'll push you out.

you must argue, but the resulting bickering will make you too groggy and sloppy for tomorrow's mission. he'll likely leave you to fight the curses anyway, and you need your strength and beauty sleep.

... but it's difficult to relax when he's right behind you. and quiet. and still.

so very still.

you must relax. you will not let gojo's weird-ass staring or his desperate need to annoy you stop you.

you will sleep. you will get a good eight hours, and you will slay this mission's curses without breaking a nail or sweating too hard, and when gojo attempts to slack off and gets his ass kicked, you won't help.

yes, that's it. the hate and spite will lull you into a sweet, pleasant dreams. you chuckle to yourself quietly.

"you crazy or something?"

never mind, you hate his stupid voice.

"shuddup," you complain into the lumpy pillow, turning your face more into the scratchy cloth, wishing you could merge into it and disappear, “sleep.”

"trying," it's difficult to tell if he’s honest by that lazy drawl, "but this mattress is sooo terrible. might as well sleep on the floor."

“please do.”

“meanie.”

a pause.

"seriously? the silent treatment?"

you can feel him. there's rustling that would suggest him leaning on one elbow to look down.

"wow, no reaction," his tone shifts, just barely: you hear amusement but also, if you strain and really concentrate, a drop of curiosity. like you're a science experiment on display.

you peek open one eye to see his blurry shape. he is indeed peering over, head tilted. staring at the bare skin between your top's loose neckline and exposed collarbone.

you quickly shut your eyes, "get lost, perv."

you pull the covers high, up to your nose. gojo remains frozen like that, angled body casting long shadows and one arm supporting him, hovering close enough to feel his body heat.

he settles back on his spot, the springs of the mattress letting out a weak groan, "well, sweet dreams, kami."

thank god. he's decided not to antagonize you, it seems.

just as you begin to slip into the foggy mist of drowsiness, he sighs, and in one, smooth motion, rolls over so he can press himself flush against your back. you, immediately, go stock still.

the breath leaves your lungs as gojo wraps an arm around your midriff and nestles his nose between the slope of your shoulder. his breath fans your skin, a gentle caress, and he is all hard planes and warmth and a foreign weight, foreign touch.

you should hit him. your hand curls but doesn't strike. you should kick him, or maybe yell and threaten, or elbow his stomach, but it's suddenly too warm.

is he? is he sleeping? like this? is he out of his goddamn mind? there’s not way.

what is he doing, and why are you letting him?

and, yes, you really are. what’s wrong with you? it's warm, warm, warmer with how effortlessly his presence wraps around you.

it should disgust you. a sense of unease should build in you like a wave. something should make you shiver, or stir your muscles into a jerk that’ll send a fist toward his handsome face. you’d just need to jab once, or twice, to satisfy the small but intense irritation and disturbance.

but you are stuck. held captive by a strong arm and an unexpected heat.

and when he mumbles nonsense and drifts further, you find the situation only heightens and multiplies and saturates your senses. he smells nice, you think to yourself, faintly sweet, faintly cool. you swallow. once, twice. the ball in your throat doesn't budge, and soon you're dozing off. like some idiot, falling asleep in the arms of a fucking idiot. it's so easy to forget you dislike him like this. you're too tired, too confused, and your mind is too cloudy. maybe you're just dreaming.

he shuffles a bit closer, the nose pushing through your hair. a contented noise.

oh, jesus christ. you should smother him with a pillow. when the two of you wake, it'll be awkward, and his teasing will become merciless.

... well, perhaps he isn't half bad as a big-spoon. you'll think about the repercussions later. maybe he meant the stuffed animal comment very literally. you are still faintly hoping this is just a dream.

you are very tired. and a very weak person, apparently. your final scattered and uneven thought is that perhaps your skin is unusually soft and touch-deprived to his fingertips. and maybe he has no self-control.

and maybe, when his palm is flat against your stomach, something warm flickers within you. you hold that small spark cradled within your ribs.

.

.

.

(so much for not sharing a bed.)

tags (couldn't tag the marked). @shokosbunny, @jotarohat, @alygator77, @fortunatelyfurrygiver, @finnydraws, @mastermasterlist1p1 , @eolivy, @letsmyy , @staruus , @doomsday08, @k0z3me , @bqvz , @damnshorty , @kaeyakaikai , @n4melesspers0n, @midnightwriter21 , @sillymercury

[1d1195]

ohhh myyy godddd that’s so crazy to me. i’ve been going to weddings since i was a CHILD. i think it’s a culture thing tho bc where im from ppl are always getting married andddd you’re supposed to invite LOTS of people, there’s no such thing as a small wedding😭

but i get being tapped out !! when it’s been too many back to back i get tired and stressed abt it. also funny but i think ive only been to like one funeral ??? maybeee two idk

birthday was fun !! vry simple i stayed home all day im not much of a birthday person, or at least just not my birthday bc i love celebrating my friends. the skincare routine is ???? it’s only been a few days so im not sure yet but ill keep you updated

i was going through dresses with my mom today for the weddings that was fun, always love putting together an outfit. i got a new phone case with one of those cute charms that hang from the bottom and it feels like a whole new phone🤭

I SAW ONE OF YOUR ANONS MENTION SHATTER ME ???? SO FUNNY CAUSE IM READING IT RN (i’m on book 5, anon TRUST when i say things change) im also not a huge dystopian fan at ALL bc it’s just getting too real !!! but i picked this up because my friends were BEGGING me saying i had to read it and I HAD NO IDEA IT WAS DYSTOPIAN 😭😭😭 I JUST THOUGHT IT WAS FANTASY ???? but nope !! its taking me forever to get through them but im pushing thru💪

on the topic of books, have you ever read a court of thorns and roses ??? i spent so long avoiding it for some reason but i finally caved and O!M!G!!!!! i LOVED it. idk if u have or haven’t but i will say i think you’d LOVE rhys😉

wishing you every single good thing in the world cause you deserve it !!!!! tell me how you’ve been <3333

~🎶

The weddings I've gone too haven't been that big either. I think the max was 150 people (but could have been closer to 120). Most of them have really been ~100. It's just so expensive and that's why I'm sick of it. It's a lot to spend on a bridal shower gift, a wedding gift, AND I've been on two destination bachelorette parties so it's just literally been draining my bank account.

I love that you had a lowkey/relaxing birthday! It sounds so nice! I am actually a huge bday fan. It's the only time I want to be the center of attention (or willing to be). What's your favorite kind of outfit? Or your style in general?

Isn't it cute how a little detail can change your whole attitude about something? I got a new screen protector and I'm like "I love this phone again" and last week I was ready to go trade it in HAHHAHA

🎀-anon will hopefully see this! I'm not sure I'll ever read it tbh. Like I said, dystopian really freaks me out now. I was firmly in middle school when The Hunger Games came out and Divergent was all throughout high school. On top of that my friend was recommending a whole bunch of zombie apocalypse books at the time too I was just really stressed while reading which is not what I wanted. It's still not either hahahahaha I don't mind a little conflict obviously but reading about governments and people being horrible to each other for the sake of being horrible (essentially)... I'm all set. I would first watch the news 😂😂

I have not taken the leap to read A Court of Thorns and Roses 😭 I think it's inevitable but I have A LOT of reading to do to get through my bookshelf. I've been making slower progress which isn't very helpful either 🙃 The fantasy side of novels never really piqued my interest either but I've seen lots of good things of course about the series! I'm sure I'll read it eventually, but I don't think I will be doing so just yet. When I do, I will keep an eye on Rhys hehehehe

I've been good. I swear the weekends are getting shorter every week. I'm lowkey dreading May and June but hopefully it will go by as quick as possible 🙃 I'm thinking about taking magnesium supplement because my doctor recommended it as a way to help me get out of my funky moods, boost energy, etc. etc. It's also just supposed to be really beneficial overall. Idk, I'll try anything to fix me hahahahaha I'm reading my book and writing part 4 of Ding...I'm not sure if it'll be done in time for tomorrow. I'm hopeful, but nervous it might be a Thursday update this week. Thanks for asking! Hope you have a great rest of your weekend and stellar start to the week!

xoxo

[hisunshiine]

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

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

moodboards | playlist | Netflix ReImagined BTS Masterlist | TATMIFB masterlist 

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

⟢ pairing: photographer!jungkook x stylist!reader

⟢ word count: 30.7k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think I’m gonna do it today, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

“Yuna… Namjoon is getting engaged today.”

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

“What? He—wait, what?”

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

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

Yuna flung herself onto the couch dramatically. 

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

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

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

“Oh! Namjoon?”

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

You wouldn’t be able to pretend this time. 

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kim Namjoon.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yuna! Get out!”

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

You shook your head.

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

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

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

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

“Go to bed, Yuna!”

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

“Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The text you sent me.”

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

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

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

Drunk you must really hate sober you.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just need to talk to Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded, smiling at your optimism.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who are you dating then?”

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

“Jeon Jungkook.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

“I don’t know. I feel so stupid.”

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

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

“Please explain Jeon.”

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

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

“So I say that we date.”

“We what?”

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

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

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

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

“So it’s agreed. We’re now together.”

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

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

You rolled your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And when does this end?” You asked.

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

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

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

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

“Wanna drive me home, boyfriend?”

—

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

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

“Because I’m dating your sister.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um, my office… why?”

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

“Oh-kay?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um—”

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

“Wow.” 

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

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

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

“Let’s take a photo for the ‘gram.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Strawberry is slowly becoming my new favorite.”

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, you knew them in college?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ggukk-ah, I don’t feel so well...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, bro?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yea, both of us are headed there.”

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, thanks for your advice last night.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? Is there something on my face?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Ooh, did you prepare all of this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded, hope blooming. 

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

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

“It’s perfect.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You clearly believed it.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Morning.”

“Didn’t sleep well?”

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

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

“So, can we talk about Somin?”

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

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

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

“I hate that you’re mad at me.”

You turned your body towards him. 

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

Jungkook reached over, encasing your hand in his.

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

“You’re not Somin...”

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

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

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

“Oh, did I interrupt dinner?”

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

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

“So, I know who you’re not...”

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

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

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

“Hyung! What are you doing here?!”

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

“Ah, it’s good to see you!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

JungHyun nodded, sitting back into the couch comfortably.

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

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

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

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

“Definitely not.”

“Mmhmm, sure.”

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

“Ah, so Y/N showed you what love is?”

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

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

“Ready to eat?”

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

“Shit, Yuna messaged me an hour ago.” 

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

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

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

“Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

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

“Good night, oppa.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you used to talk about me?”

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

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

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

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

“Dad’s here!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t sleep?”

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

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

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

You scoffed, shoulder bumping into his.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, yes, but my parents—”

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

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

“And how do you know that?”

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...much happier...”

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

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

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

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

Jungkook slows the way he’s kissing you, slows the way he was thrusting into your hand and pushes you gently off of him and back to your side of the bed. You’re both panting, barely able to catch your breath as he pulled your back to his chest and held you close.

“We’ve got a long trip tomorrow morning to Busan, babe. Let’s get some sleep.”

“Oh… okay?” You were so confused. You had never been turned down before, especially not when you were so far into the act, practically ready to pull your panties to the side and ease him into you. You were throbbing, body aching with want, and you knew he was too; could feel the hardness as it nestled in the dip between your cheeks.

You felt him kiss your head, followed by a soft double peck to your neck, and not 10 minutes later his breathing slowed as he drifted off to sleep. 

You, on the other hand, laid awake, thoughts running wild.

——

Christmas morning you had an early breakfast with your family before opening stockings. Your parents had only a couple of weeks to prepare for Jungkook, but they had prepared a stocking for him as well; your mom embroidering his name onto it and stuffing it full to the brim. 

You were surprised at the gifts; a couple boxes of polaroid film, a bag of banana kick chips, individually packaged egg snacks, and colorful candy canes. Yours were similar as well, a small collection of sewing items for designing, and your favorite snacks. Your mom ruffled Jungkook’s sleepy-head hair as he offered his thanks to your parents, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart swoon at the sight. You realized something heartbreaking at that moment: breaking up with Jungkook once this was over would hurt more than just you. 

Heading to Jungkook’s parents house was a different experience after the previous night. Yuna had obviously stayed with your parents, and would be catching the train back the same day you left Busan. 

This was the first time the two of you had been alone since the rejection the night before, and you were doing your best to ignore the hurt feeling that would bloom every time you caught yourself dwelling on it. You focused on your phone instead, posting a few photos on Instagram so that you were sticking to your end of the deal. Somin would see these posts some way or another, and it would hopefully do what it was intended to.

Jungkook didn’t seem to think twice about the rejection, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and treating you like you were really together, a true couple going to meet his parents for the first time. 

“Nervous?”

“A little. I’ll be meeting your parents, and we’re not really together,” you looked down at your hands, missing the way Jungkook’s face fell for a few seconds before working it’s way back to a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

“I think we’re together enough where it counts. No one watching us would doubt it,” he intertwined your fingers and gave it an encouraging squeeze, “sometimes even I forget you’re not my real girlfriend.” He laughed, and the sound leaves an ache in your chest.

“Same, haha...” You looked out the window of the KTX, ready to breathe the fresh air of the nearby sea. Jungkook released your hand and you both went back to your tasks, Jungkook reading emails and you sketching designs for work.

Jungkook’s parents treated you much like yours had treated Jungkook. Like you were the greatest thing to happen to their child.

“Y/N, you’re so pretty! Oh, thank heavens, we have a chance at cute grandchildren now.” Jungkook’s mom bowed her head in thanks to a higher power, and you couldn’t help feeling a little bad that you weren’t actually dating Jungkook. You would have liked to deserve the praise she was giving you.

“He looks so much happier, happier than we’ve seen him in a long time.” She smiled at his father and their eyes, so similar to their two sons, crinkled in the corners. JungHyun greeted you with a hug, and you reciprocated it.

“Hi, Oppa,” you teased, and Jungkook glared at you. 

“Yah! That’s Jeon JungHyun to you,” he leaned closer to your ear in a mock whisper, “only I get called Oppa.”

JungHyun cringed back in mock disgust.

“I do not need to know about your ‘Oppa kink’ in the bedroom.” He shivered as he walked back to the living room, where he put away his laptop to make space for gifts.

Their dad, who you were very glad had not heard his eldest son’s comment, gestured to you to leave your suitcases in the entryway and come sit down.

“Kookie, pass out the gifts please. Your mom has been waiting all morning in excitement for you two to get here. We can have lunch after you guys get situated.”

Jungkook, ever the dutiful youngest son, began to distribute gifts amongst you all, while you handed your own gifts that you had gotten for his family out to them. 

“You didn’t have to get them anything,” Jungkook whispered as he dropped a gift off for you from his own parents.

You gave him a pointed look, gesturing subtly to the gift.

“I did.”

He shook his head with a smile and continued until the space under the tree was empty.

“So, we just open them all at the same time! Save your thanks for the end, ready?” His dad looked at you, and you nodded.

“Let’s get it!” Jungkook shouted, and everyone laughed at his phrase as you began to open your gifts. You didn’t have many, one from his parents and JungHyun, and 2 from Jungkook. His family had given you a Pantone Color Swatch book that was easy to carry around, to help while on set working. It was very thoughtful, and you knew it could not have been cheap. You bowed deeply, on your knees and forehead to their floor as a show of your gratitude and respect.

They motioned for you to sit back up, waving off your thanks as if it was no big deal for them to get this gift for you. You turned to Jungkook’s gift, eyes already threatening tears at their sincere treatment of you, and once opened, you did cry.

Nestled inside a satin lined box was a beautiful set of Dwikkoji, traditional hair pins, that came with a small card identifying them as from the Joseon era.

“Jungkook!” you gasped, sure that they couldn’t be real.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t have to pay for them. But they would look much better displayed in your office as our head fashionista then collecting dust in storage.”

You couldn’t hold back your feelings any longer. Acting on instinct, you tugged him towards you, wrapping your arms under his own and around his frame as you let your tears fall.

“They’re beautiful, Kookie.” 

Jungkook reciprocated your embrace, his hand smoothing down your hair as his parents smiled at the scene in front of them.

“Ah, young love, remember when that was us?”

—

Unlike your parents, who wanted to pretend that the two of you were a modest young couple, Jungkook’s parents assumed that the two of you would room together. His dad had clapped him on his shoulder and congratulated him on bringing home such a fine woman. Apparently in the two weeks that JungHyun had been home, he had raved about you to his parents, showing pictures from your social media accounts of the two of you together, as well as your fashion talent. Jungkook too had talked on the phone to his parents, you came to find out, which was why his parents were so enthralled by you, despite only dating Jungkook for a short time.

Lunch was fun. Spending time with the Jeons was full of laughter. His family was like him, generous and kind hearted, and you enjoyed spending time with his mom in the kitchen making cookies for dessert.

That night you went out for a drive to look at Christmas lights, before you all stopped off at the town center where they had outdoor ice skating set up. Jungkook had his camera with the new personalized strap you made him (yay fashion classes!) around his neck, taking photos of you and his family as you glided across the frozen water. You spent an hour there before heading home to warm up with hot cocoa and Christmas movies. You found out that this was their tradition every year, and it made you happy to know they wanted to share it with you. Even if it was only for this one Christmas.

Having showered first, you traveled down the hall to get water from the kitchen while you waited for Jungkook to finish his. His family had a one level house; His parents’ room was located on one side of the living room and kitchen, while Jungkook and his brother’s room was on the other side. 

You heard his parents talking at the table and you slowed down, resting the back of your head on the wall as you heard them say your name.

“Oh, honey, Y/N is so darling! I haven’t seen him this happy in years.”

“He looks so in love with her.”

“Well, remember, he used to have the biggest crush on her.”

“But that was years ago. They were what, 20? And somehow he chose Somin?”

“Sometimes, people aren't ready. Now, they’re older. Better chances of them working out. Oh, honey, I hope they work out. She would be such a cute daughter in law.”

“I know, but don’t pressure them. Let them realize how in love with each other they are on their own.”

“Do you think she loves him too?”

“I don’t have a single doubt in my mind. I saw the way they were together.They’re in love, whether they realize it or not.”

“Ahh, so we could have grandchildren soon? JungHyun seems like he’s never going to settle down... ”

“Aish, grandchildren? I’m too young to be a grandpa!”

Instead of interrupting them, you headed back to his room, mind racing with their words. Jungkook had a crush on you? They thought the two of you were in love? Daughter in law? Jungkook chose that moment to come into the room, towel wrapped low around his waist as he checked his phone and you couldn’t look away.

“You’re starting to drool there, babe.”

You swallowed and looked away, grabbing your hair and running your fingers through it to put it into a bun on your head.

“I just uh—I wanted to talk to you about the contract.”

Jungkook, who was facing his dresser where his suitcase was opened up, froze. His eyes sought yours in the mirror, his reflection giving away nothing.

“Oh? What, uh, what about it?”

“Well, our parents seem to like us together, I mean, they’re talking about grandkids, and well, I would hate to break up so soon after having met them. I know this was only supposed to go on until you figured out what to do about Somin, but if it’s alright with you,” you look away, twisting your fingers in nervousness, “I would like for us to continue to date.”

Jungkook’s mind was racing. He understood what you meant. Your parents seemed to love him, discussing future visits for the holidays and his family had been no different. And thinking about ending the contract? Well, he had already been thinking about doing that. So he could date you, for real. Somin texted him while he was in the shower, upset about missing Christmas with his family. Jungkook thought that it would bother him, his first holiday without her, but he realized he couldn’t care less. 

Somin treated him like a prize to be toted around and shown off. He was good for bragging; his face, body, high paying job, it all granted her status. She had no ambition to grow within the company, still a one act manager after graduating as an interning manager’s assistant. But you? God, you were different. You had ambition, you didn’t care about what Jungkook could provide for you, and you listened to him, to his dreams. You were thoughtful, appreciative, and everything you had done was to help him be happy. Even fake dating, while it benefitted you as well, you had gone above and beyond for him.

You stood up, walking closer to him where he was lost in his thoughts.

“Jungkook?” you intoned, your fingers softly settling on the back of his shoulder, waiting for his response.

“I think, yeah. I think that would be a good idea. My parents and brother love you.”

Your heart soared. He wanted to continue this. Not go back to Somin right away. He barely brought her up this whole trip. You felt giddy, hopeful that maybe one day, this could be something more.

“So then, it’s settled.”

Jungkook turned around, catching your hand before you could drop it back to your side.

“I think we should reexamine that contract, but tonight, I’d really like to say fuck it.”

Jungkook stepped into your space, and in a heart’s beat, he had ensnared your lips, his arms pulling you closer to him. Your own arms snaked up his body, hands pulling his head closer to you, your fingers playing with the wet strands at his nape. His kisses were fervent, lips almost rough as he pressed them to yours before he was swiping his tongue across the opening of your mouth, seeking entrance. 

You groaned as you arched your back, seeking to deepen the kiss as you pressed higher on your tiptoes, wanting more of him. His palm skimmed your back down to your butt, where he applied pressure and lifted you with brute strength. You pulled away with a gasp, not expecting to be lifted up. He just looked at you with pupils blown, one eyebrow raised suggestively as he carried you to his bed.

“I think we should practice making ‘grandchildren’ for them.”

He set you down, long enough to grip the hem of your shirt before he pulled it over your head. His eyes moved to your chest, and he closed his eyes as he sighed in defeat.

“You’ve been keeping this from me?”

“You’ve seen me naked before,” you remind him, but he just shook his head.

“Years ago, Y/N, and let me tell you, my memory didn’t do you justice. I think I need a reminder.”

You throw him a suggestive look, knowing that you’ve both had some experience with sex since your shared first time all those years ago. This time, there was no fumbling, no nervous laughter, or apologizing. This time, Jungkook was in command of his body, and of yours too. He rid you of your shorts, leaving you naked on his sheets as he dropped his towel. 

You marveled at how his body had changed: the muscle gained and the chiseled jaw you loved to admire. Jungkook bit his lip and did the same to you, eyes roving along your curves, the way you weren’t shying away from his touch as his fingers trailed up your thigh.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond, as Jungkook kissed you again, this time with less fervor, his body crawling above yours as he joined you on the bed. His hands touched you everywhere, fondling your breasts and your ass as he kissed down your neck, nipping the skin and leaving marks along your neck. You feel the ache as your wetness pools between your legs, and Jungkook’s growing member sits heavy where it’s pressed against your thigh. 

“Jungkook, please—”

He nips a bit harder, the sound of you begging for him made him infinitely larger. He wanted to be in you, but he didn’t want to rush it, wanted to savor you for as long as he had you under him. Kissing down your body, his tongue leaves a cool, wet trail and you writhe, ticklish to his tongues path to your core. 

Parting your legs wider, he smirked at you from where he's sat on his knees, your thighs on either side of his gloriously naked body. Leaning forward, he never breaks eye contact as you watch his lips meet your mound. Gentle kisses pressed to your lips, and then his tongue is parting them, flicking your clit in greeting. Your head is thrown back, you know you should be quieter, but the onslaught of his lips and tongue as they pleasure your sweet spot has you reduced to base instincts only. And right now, they want Jungkook to know that he had better not stop.

You rolled your hips, seeking more, and he gives in, thick fingers immersing themselves inside of you. You clench, walls shocked at the intrusion but welcoming it all the same. He felt so good, and you tell him as much, so he continued to finger fuck you as he lapped up your release, carrying you through your orgasm.

He was so hard, cock throbbing as he kissed back up your body, and after spitting into your hand, you reached down to stroke along his shaft, palm twisting and gliding as he nuzzled his face back into your neck, quiet little moans rolling out of his mouth with each stroke. You made him feel so good, your body warm and soft as your smaller hand stroked his larger ego, in more ways than one.

Without preamble, you positioned him at your opening and lifted your hips, allowing him to feel how warm your walls were, waiting for him. He pushed up on his palms on either side of your head and the look he gave you was indecipherable before your own eyes shut; he engulfed his cock in the swollen velvet that was your cunt, buried to the hilt.

He had tried his best to prepare you, but every glorious inch stretching you out was a breath you needed to take in order to grow accustomed to his size. You counted nine breaths, then opened your eyes, taking in the trembling of his arms as he held himself back from pounding into you.

“Move, Kook, please,” you whine, and he wasted no time following your orders.

His hips grinded into you as he rolled them, angling himself to take you as deep as humanly possible. His pace started off fast, but soon he was slowing down, head dropped into the crook of your neck as your nails dragged red marks down his back. You rocked your hips in time to his thrusts, using your grip on his back as leverage to meet him halfway. 

“You feel so good, so wet for me,” he murmured with each thrust, and you bit his shoulder, afraid if you didn’t gag yourself, you would say the wrong thing.

Everything about you enveloped him, your scent, your arms and thighs that were holding him close; he could barely think straight as he tried to get you to cum again before he got himself off. But you felt so good, tight clenches as your arousal gushed and coated his cock, he didn’t know how much longer he could last. Then you bit his shoulder, and he sped up his stroke, hips rolled in fast succession as your body jostled underneath him.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m so close baby,” you mewl into his ear, and he lifted his head up out of your neck, resting his forehead on yours. 

“I want to watch you, don’t close your eyes,” he pleads and you try your best to keep them open, not closing them for long as the coil builds in your lower abdomen. He adjusted your bodies, lifted your legs up slightly which allowed him a deeper angle that hits your g-spot. Your mouth hangs open, a fucked out expression on your face and Jungkook loses it.

The first spurt of his hot cum sends you over the edge, and you're spiraling down, pussy contracting around his cock, milking him for every drop. You maintain eye contact, watching each other for a few seconds before you can’t help but close them, the pleasure too great.

Jungkook pressed his lips to yours as you both cum, using them to cage in the words he wanted to say, wanted to shout from the rooftops, but wasn’t yet sure you felt the same way.

——

Waking up in Jungkook’s arms, you felt sore. So sore, but also satisfied. You hadn’t slept this well in ages, and if Jungkook’s deep slumber and dead weight arm draped over your waist was anything to go by, he hadn’t either. You moved his arm slowly, headed for the shower, and let out a small gasp as JungHyun also exited his bedroom at the same time.

“Well, don’t you look... rested,” he trailed off, a look of knowing on his face.

Your face burned in embarrassment.

“Don’t worry, as soon as I heard little brother start to get a little… feral, I turned up my TV while I gamed. Parents didn’t hear a peep.”

“Thank you, oppa.” You bowed, gratitude seeping out of each of your pores.

“Now, those marks on the other hand,” he gestured to your neck, “might I suggest an ice pack for 20 minutes and then some really good makeup?”

You hurried into the bathroom as he laughed his way towards the kitchen. A minute later he knocked, passing you a small ice-pack through the cracked door.

“20 minutes,” he reminded you with a wink, and went back into his room with his cereal.

—

Saying goodbye to Jungkook’s parents after a late breakfast was tough. His mom cried, saying her baby son did not visit enough and that she would miss him. She also said she would miss you greatly, and that you better come back with him soon to visit.

It was tough to promise her that you would, knowing that there was a very real chance that you wouldn’t. This was fake after all. You had just agreed to extend the contract briefly, to get through the holidays and while Jungkook said ‘fuck it’ last night, with the rising of the sun came the clarity of the situation. 

Jungkook behaved much the same, holding your hand and showering you with PDA, and while you reciprocated, you couldn’t help but feel like the magic of Christmas was over. Heading back to Seoul meant back to reality. You weren’t sure you were ready for that. For the first time in your life, you felt like you could see a future with someone, with him, despite the relationship being fake thus far. To be honest, it hadn’t felt fake since the night of the party. 

The entire trip, all 3 and a half hours of it, you ruminated on last night and what it meant. You hated to admit that you had fallen for Jungkook, and had given up rule number 7 on a whim. For all you knew, he would be going back to Somin at the end of this. 

In his own little world, Jungkook too couldn’t stop thinking about you and what last night meant. He wished he had said to forget the contract all together, instead of just for the night. He wanted to see if you felt the same way, but he wanted to be sure that his Somin chapter was done. He needed to see her and make sure he was over her, and not just using you as a rebound. You didn’t deserve that.

Jungkook’s body language had you on edge, as his foot tapped incessantly as the train got closer and closer to Seoul. You placed your hand on his knee, a reassuring move for both of you. 

“Jungkook, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just—Somin messaged me.” He had been thinking about it the whole trip back to Seoul, about how her messages didn’t affect him anymore. Before, he could barely go a few minutes before responding. Now, almost 18 hours had passed and he wasn’t bothered.

“When?” Your voice came out sharper than intended, and Jungkook flinched back from you.

“Uh, last night, right after I got out of the shower.”

Your brain began to connect dots that you didn’t want it to.

“Oh,” you respond, trying to keep your voice light. Jungkook was confused at your reaction; usually you were jumping to keep him and Somin apart. This response felt like you didn’t care, like if he met up with Somin, it wouldn’t impact you at all.

“She just… I think that you’re right. The plan is working and I’ve been happier than I’ve been in a long time. But I guess there’s that part of me that needs to talk with her, express how I feel. I want to be sure.” Before I confess my feelings to you, he thought.

“Right. Well, that was the goal, getting you to figure out what you want.” You turned your head away from him and deeper into the neck pillow, trying to get this conversation done and over with before he said something that really broke your heart.

“I know. I guess I’ll meet up with her when we get back? The sooner the better I guess.”

“True, the faster you meet with her, figure it all out, the faster we can move towards breaking up.”

Jungkook freezes, but you don’t notice, too focused on not looking at him.

“At breaking up?”

“Yea, that was the plan right? We date for a couple more weeks, then break up, so you can get back with Somin, if she’s changed, you know?”

“You—”

“Hey Jungkook? I’m really tired, can we talk about this later?”

Jungkook stared at your form, taking in how closed off you were from him. He didn’t understand what changed. He sat back, finally replying to Somin’s text, agreeing to meet at a cafe by his apartment later that evening.

—

Jungkook saw you home, worried the entire ride to your place about what was happening between the two of you. He thought everything had been going well, and after last night, he didn’t know how he could have possibly fucked up. He hoped you were just PMS-ing, like Somin used to always blame moods like this on. 

You let him carry your suitcase upstairs to your apartment and when he leaned in for a kiss, you kissed him back, but he felt it was almost out of obligation; your sister was sitting on the couch watching the two of you. Jungkook paused at your door, but you had turned away from him, so ready to be alone. So he let you close the door in his face, let you have time to yourself.

Jungkook got to the cafe, eyes searching for the long black hair of his ex. When he approached her she smiled at him. Jungkook saw the way her face lit up, the way the smile graced her pretty face, and felt nothing for it. Sitting down, a cafe worker took their drink order and left them alone.

“So, you said you wanted to talk?” Jungkook asked, fidgeting with his fingers drumming on his knee.

“Kookie, I miss you.” Somin leaned toward him, chest pushed out in her off the shoulder zebra print dress. Her black heel nudged against Jungkook’s leg, rubbing it suggestively.

Jungkook moved his leg out of reach and sighed.

“Somin—”

“Minnie.” She pouted, red painted bottom lip jutting out after she cut him off to correct her name.

“Somin. I—I’m sorry.” Jungkook felt awkward. Here he was, sitting in front of his ex, who was undoubtedly a gorgeous woman. But after all they had been through—all she put him through—and all the healing you had done to his heart, he realized he had fallen out of love with her a long time ago. “I know you had hopes of us getting back together.”

“Well, of course we’re getting back together Kookie. We’re made for each other. Since we were 20! I know this thing with Y/N is just revenge. You wanted to make me mad, teach me a lesson,” she said as she reached out and grabbed Jungkook’s hand in hers, “and I have learned it. Christmas without you was so sad. I had no one to go out to all the holiday parties with.”

Jungkook shifted in the metal chair. “Look, Somin—”

“Why do you keep calling me that?” she interrupted again, and Jungkook let out a loud sigh as he tried to maintain his cool.

“Because, I’m trying to tell you that I—”

“Jungkook! Somin!”

The loud yell of the barista reading out orders cut Jungkook off for the third time, and he groaned, running his tattooed hand over his face. With a huff, he stood up, walking through the crowded cafe to get the drinks so he could just tell Somin the truth; he may have initially wanted to teach her a lesson, but he ended up being the person who learned something from it. He was in love with you; wanted to spend more holidays like the one that just passed, with you. He truly didn’t feel anything for Somin anymore, other than friendship.

While Jungkook was up, Somin noticed his bag was open, a fancy camera strap hanging out of it. It was embroidered; the phrase ‘you shine brighter than anyone’ apparent once she pulled it free from his oversized black backpack. Somin threw a glance over her shoulder at Jungkook, seeing him still busy, so she stuffed the strap into her purse. Grabbing her phone, she sent a text to Taehyung.

Jungkook set down the drinks before sitting down himself and commanding the attention of his ex. 

“Look, Somin, I just—I’m sorry.” Jungkook looked down at his hands before making eye contact with her. “I don’t see us getting back together. I—” he paused, taking a deep breath before he spoke his truth, “I’m in love with her, Minie. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but I want to be happy. I want you to be happy with someone who feels about you, how I feel about her.”

Somin stared at Jungkook before she laughed. He was unsure of the emotions she was actually feeling; perplexed by her reaction to what he just told her. He didn't want to be with her anymore, and he wasn’t looking for her to beg, but he expected a little more... sadness? Push back? Once she was done laughing, she leveled her gaze at him.

“You, you’ve barely been seeing her Jungkook. How can you love her?”

Jungkook took a sip of his drink, gathering his thoughts before he answered her. The judgement that laced her tone made him angry, but he didn’t want to give Somin the upper hand. He wanted to be an adult about the situation. In retrospect, he hadn’t been honest with Somin when she first confessed to him, and you deserved for him to share that honesty now, even if it was coming 5 years later.

“I think—I think a part of me has always loved her. Since that first year. Don’t get me wrong, I think I loved you too and at some point we just… I think we just broke up and then made up too many times because it was easy… familiar. I love you Minie, and you were a huge part of my life. I’m just not IN love with you.” Jungkook leaned forward towards Somin, placing his hand over here, hoping that she would see and feel his sincerity and his benevolence. 

“Wow, I—You’re serious?” Somin’s voice was quiet as she questioned him. “I guess I didn’t think I’d be starting the new year without you.”

Jungkook watched as she slid her hand out from under his and placed it in her lap.

“Please, be happy for me Minie, and when you’re ready, I’ll be happy for you too.”

The loud chime from Somin’s phone went off. Jungkook watched as she looked at her screen, eyes growing wide.

“Shit, an emergency with Tae.” Somin looked up at Jungkook, her face soft and apologetic.

“Koo—I mean Jungkook, I was just surprised is all. I—I am happy for you and Y/N. Or, I guess it’s more like, I will be. I’m sorry, I have to run, but thank you for meeting with me.”

Somin gave him one last smile, as if showing she was throwing the towel in, before she stood up and left the cafe in a hurry. Jungkook watched her as she dashed off, disappearing down the sidewalk towards the nearest bus stop. He thought the meeting had gone well, or at least better than expected. Maybe Somin has grown up, he thought to himself, unaware of the way she made off cunningly with his gifted camera strap, using a text that confirmed the time for the next morning’s meeting with Taehyung as an excuse to escape.

——

After closing the door in Jungkook’s face, you retreated to your room, claiming that a headache was creeping in from the long train ride. Your sister nodded, engrossed in her latest K Drama. You rolled your suitcase into your room, stripped your travel clothes from your weary body, and entered your shower. 

Free to do as you pleased, with the water to cover the sound, you wept. How foolish you felt, letting Jungkook close to you once again, only to see him rush off to Somin. It was almost like what happened 5 years ago, when you had gone to his dorm room and found her confessing. Just like then, Somin was winning Jungkook; once again he had slipped through your grasp.

That night you texted Jungkook to tell him you would be going to the office early and that he needn’t pick you up.

Jungkook was relieved upon seeing your text. He had spent the better half of the evening and the morning tearing apart his apartment. He had called his parents, his brother, and overturned his luggage onto the floor. He could not find the camera strap you made him. 

He knew that he shouldn’t have taken it off the camera, but he spilled a bit of leftovers from his mom on it while on the train and removed it to make it easier to clean once he got home. 

Unfortunately, it was nowhere to be found. 

Jungkook was frantic; he knew that you made it for him that night you sat in the sewing room with your mom and sister while he was with your dad. Your mom had an embroidery machine, and so you snuck in there under the premise of bonding time and worked on it. He loved the phrase you chose for him; it reminded him of your love letter to him, the way you had written about him making you feel as beautiful as a night sky. “you looked at me as if the galaxies were reflected in my eyes...”

Dumping out his black backpack for the umpteenth time, Jungkook sifted through notebooks, film, wrappers from snacks, a small hygiene bag, and loose photos. He doesn’t know why he continued looking through the same places. It’s not there. Glancing at the clock, he realized he would be late to the Monday morning meeting. Giving up and putting everything he needed back into his bookbag, he stepped over the mess and headed out to his car.

Walking into the conference room, everyone looked tired from their holidays, but with the New Year around the corner, it was important for everyone to attend before January. SeoulM8’s comeback was fast approaching, and making sure everything was moving smoothly was imperative to whether the next holiday was spent relaxing or spent stressed out. 

Stirring your coffee, you walked through the propped open door and maneuvered your way over to where your assistants sat. Kim, the same one who brought you the tiger lillies several weeks ago, smiled at you as she slid you the stapled packet she printed out from the email.

“I think we’ve done all our parts, the photos Jeon emailed over have been approved by the boss, and we double-checked the designers they are wearing. I think all that’s left is to get final approval on the outfits for their comeback shows and interviews during comeback week.” 

You nodded, sipping the still hot coffee as Kim spoke quietly about the role you played for SeoulM8, eyes on the printed email. It didn’t help the way you could feel the mocha eyes of a certain ‘missing in action’ best friend burning into the side of your face; or the way the empty seat across from you saved for a certain ‘boyfriend’ of yours had your anxiety on edge.

With 5 minutes left until the meeting commenced, you had done a pretty good job at tuning out all of the mindless chatter around you, that is until Somin’s nasally voice interrupted your response to Kim.

“Oh, this? It’s just a little gift for JK.”

“But you broke up? He’s with Y/N now...” Hobi said, cutting off a reply from one of the assistants sitting near Somin.

“But we dated for 5 years, he’s still important to me. I think he’ll love it.” She turned her back to Hobi, who tried to make eye contact with you. You looked down at your coffee instead.

When Jimin and Taehyung walked into the room, everyone quieted down and took their seats if they weren’t already, assuming Bang PD, the head boss, would be quickly approaching behind them. Before the glass door could swing fully shut, Jungkook sprinted into the room, out of breath.

“Oh Jungkook, here!” Somin stood up, making a big show out of handing him the small gift bag that had been on the table in front of her. 

“Oh? Uh, thanks Minie.” Jungkook said, looking for the head boss. Bang PD was still missing from the room, so he grasped the colorful tissue paper from the bag and removed it in one swift pull. As the paper fluttered to the table, Jungkook’s eyes lit up as he took in the present.

“Oh my God, thank you!” Jungkook wrapped his arms around Somin in a huge hug, surprising everyone in the room watching, including you. Despite all of your negative thoughts about you and Jungkook’s future, seeing him react that way was unexpected and you felt your heart ache seeing him hold her in an embrace.

Sitting down, Jungkook turns to talk to Somin when you notice Bang PD walking down the long hallway towards the closed glass doors. 

You turned to the front of the room where SeoulM8 was seated next to the only empty chair in the room, fully intending to pay attention, but Jungkook’s movements directly across from you pulled your attention away. When you see the embroidered strap that YOU had given to him for Christmas a mere 2 days ago slide free from the bag, you see red. Before Bang PD can enter the room, you’ve already stood up. 

Both Namjoon and Jungkook look at you, followed by everyone else’s gaze; it’s too late to hide the tears that fall down your face. 

“Y/N, I can explain—” Jungkook said as you make your way around the table toward the door. He grabbed your wrist to stop you, but you pulled it from his grasp.

“Save it, Jeon. It’s over.”

You leave the meeting, walking brusquely past your boss with your head down. You type out a quick text to him as you take the elevator down, apologizing for leaving and saying that an emergency came up. Bang PD responds within a few moments.

Back in the conference room, Jungkook attempted to call you, but you sent him to voicemail twice. Giving up, he grabbed his bag, fully planning to follow you, when he saw Namjoon stand before he could. Throwing a dirty look at Jungkook, Namjoon shook his head at him before quickly following you out the door. 

You haven’t gone far, making it only to your office where you gathered up the rest of your belongings when Namjoon burst in.

“Y/N,” he sounded a little out of breath, probably from running to the elevator and then to your office, you assumed, “I—”

“Save it, Joon. You didn’t want to talk to me these past few weeks, so I don’t know why you’re here now.”

“Because I realized I love you.”

You stopped packing up your laptop, eyes slowly moving to meet his.

“What did you say?”

“I said I love you. I didn’t realize it until you started dating Jungkook, but I do.”

You shook your head back and forth, unable to hear or deal with his feelings right now.

“No, Namjoon, you don’t. You just miss Jennie.”

“Y/N, listen, I should’ve realized it was you. It’s always been you. You can’t honestly tell me that you’re in love with Jungkook?” Namjoon said this last part with contempt.

Tears fell once again, and you dropped your hands uselessly to your side.

“I do, Namjoon. I honestly love him.”

“Well, I hate to say I told you so, but-”

“Then don’t,” you voiced, cutting him off with an edge to your voice.

“You and Jungkook? Please. Anyone can see how different you are. You and me, though? We’re better for each other.”

“How different we are? Why? Am I too out of his league? Not pretty enough?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, and you know it. You guys just aren’t compatible—”

“And how the fuck would you even know?! You saw us together at what? One party? And then at work? What do you even know about our relationship, Joon?! You’ve been angry at me ever since you found out!”

“Because you and him together isn’t right! It’s supposed to be you and me!”

“Oh please, Namjoon. If Jennie hadn’t taken that Japan job and dumped you, you wouldn’t even be here right now. I wouldn’t have even crossed your mind. This is a pointless conversation.”

You walked towards the door, bag over your shoulder and laptop case in hand. Namjoon blocked the doorway, and behind him you could see nosey coworkers watching the interaction. 

“Move, Namjoon.”

“Not until you talk to me.”

“No,” you go to shoulder past him, and you were able to back him up into the common area outside of your office. He grabbed at your shoulders, holding you still. 

“Namjoon, let go of me!” At this moment you hated that you had dressed up for this meeting; a tight a-line pencil skirt and heels that don’t allow you the movement that you needed.

Before you can shimmy from his clutches, he’s leaning forward, his lips meeting yours in a kiss. In shock, you don’t move at first, not until your free hand shoved his shoulder and pushed him a step back.

“I can’t believe you.” 

The look you gave him could burn the sun, and this time you were able to push past him; the elevator getting closer and closer as you approached. You saw Jungkook, motionless, at the platform in front of the elevators; his eyes low in a glare aimed at Namjoon, who had followed you in your haste to escape.

“Hyung, you need to leave her alone.”

“Me? I’m her best friend. I would say you were her boyfriend, but we all heard her break up with you when she left the room crying.”

“That was just a misunderstanding. So like I said, leave her alone.” Jungkook stepped forward to his full height, chest to chest with his hyung, who prior to watching him force a kiss on you, he respected a lot. The tension on the floor was thick. You were mere steps from freedom, from Namjoon and Jungkook, when his words stopped you dead in your tracks. A misunderstanding? 

Did he not understand what the words ‘It’s over’ meant? That the contract, the relationship between the two of you, however real or fake, everything was null and void? 

“It wasn’t a misunderstanding, Jungkook.”

Big, confused, doe eyes turned to face you. “Y/N, please let’s just talk about th—”

“Why don’t you take your own advice and listen to her, Kook. You could never treat her how she deserves.” 

“Why don’t you go mind your own business Namjoon.” Jungkook bit back, fists clenched as he shook, holding back his anger. He just wanted to be alone to talk to you, but Namjoon was making it difficult.

“She is my business, she’s my best friend. She’s nothing to you now. Though, knowing you, that’s probably the reason she broke up with you. I bet you didn’t treat Somin right, and now you fucked up with Y/N. Can’t do anything right, can yo—”

Jungkook’s fist flew through the air before you could tell either of them to stop talking about what they don’t know. The sound of Namjoon’s jaw connecting to his fist echoed through the large room, and the crowd of bystanders yelled out in shock at watching a full on fight start in the building.

You yelled as Namjoon tackled Jungkook around his middle, tackling him to the ground before he reared back his fist to punch him back. 

“Namjoon, stop, STOP!” you yelled as Jungkook flipped Namjoon onto his back, swapping places as he took the liberty to return the blow. Putting down your laptop and bag haphazardly, you rushed closer. Leaning down, you grabbed at Jungkook’s arm that was cocked back to throw another punch, yelling his name frantically.

“Jungkook, Kookie, PLEASE STOP!”

The two men looked at your face, their chests rising and falling rapidly as they tried to catch their breath. Jungkook’s eyes were dilated. As he took in your state, he seemed to come back to his senses. He started to climb up off of where he straddled Namjoon, pinning him to the floor, his hand reaching up towards you from where he was kneeled on the ground.

“Y/N, I’m sorry baby, please just talk to me.” Jungkook’s bottom lip was split, a small bit of blood leaking from the cut. His cheekbone was red; you knew a bruise would form there. Namjoon too tried to sit up, leaning on his elbow as his split eyebrow spilled his blood down the side of his face. He too would be sporting a shiner for the next week or so. 

You almost reached for Jungkook, returned the gesture to cradle that beautiful face, but you couldn’t. Him fighting Namjoon changed nothing about the fact that Somin had the present you gave him, that she brought it to him as if she had given it to him, let alone the response he gave her when he saw it. Backing away, you almost tripped over your belongings before you thought to collect them, and then dashed into the elevator, leaving the two men bleeding on the floor as the doors shut, cutting off the view.

——

Dealing with the aftermath of the fight was not something you thought would be so difficult to do. 

Working remotely meant not being able to turn off your phone so you didn’t miss any important calls or texts. Unfortunately, it also meant you had to deal with the barrage of texts and calls from friends and co-workers wanting to know about the fight. 

According to Jimin, the only person other than Kim who you were responding to, the whole office heard about the fight. With Jin being Jungkook’s roommate, and of course being the resident gossip, news traveled fast that the two men got into a fist throwing match over you. This only had you double down on avoiding messages, calls, and not posting to social media. It was unlike you; as a fashionista who worked with models and artists like SeoulM8 and Kim Seokjin, people looked to your accounts for updates. 

Your silence was killing Jungkook, the one person who had not given up. Jungkook hated to not give people time, but he had the feeling like the more time you had, the faster you would slip from his fingertips. You stared at your phone, watching his name light up on the screen as a picture of the two of you, set as his contact photo, taunted you with memories. 

All you could do was lay there, curled up on your bed in your pajamas for the second day in a row, hating yourself. Hating the fact that you allowed yourself to break your rules, that you let Jungkook into your heart for a second time, only to watch it all come crashing down because he couldn’t let go of Somin. What did Somin have that you didn’t? How was it that she always won?

5 years ago you lost Jungkook to her, after giving him your virginity, something he knew was a big deal, as he had given his to you in exchange. And now again, you had so foolishly fallen into bed with him again, and he ran back to Somin. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice? You were already blaming yourself heavy for this one. 

Another day passed before you finally pulled yourself up out of bed long enough to shower and get dressed in a different set of sweats. A knocking sound at the front door had you tense up. Luckily, your sister answered the door, able to field away anyone who wanted to see you.

Creeping silently to the door of your bedroom, you cracked it open and listened to see who was there. From the angle you could see your sister, but not who was outside, nor could they see you. The warm tone was instantly recognizable, and your eyes widened as your sister looked back at you. Shaking your head profusely, she denied entry and shut the door, walking over to you. You back away from the door, letting her in as you sit on your bed. Crossing your legs, you grabbed a stuffie and clutched it to your chest.

“Hey, can you tell me what happened? Why are you hiding out at home and not answering Jungkook’s calls? What’s going on?”

You sighed, taking a much needed breath before you recounted the whole story. You told her about the journal entries being sent out, about how Namjoon had confronted you leading to you lying and saying you were with Jungkook, who came up with the plan to fake date each other until the Somin and Namjoon issues calmed down for both of you. 

She listened intently, shocked to hear that it was all fake, and she told you as much once you finished sharing about the fight that ensued on Monday.

“Sis, that man loves you. I could see it when he came to the door. I think you should talk to him.”

“No. It’s all my fault all of this happened anyways. If I hadn’t been drunk and sent those messages out, I would have never had to lie to Namjoon and start all of this.”

Yuna squirmed in your computer chair, her mouth twisted as if holding herself back.

“Actually, you didn’t do that.”

“What are you talking about Yuna? I saw the messages. I took the photos the night before because I wanted to upload them to an online journal platform.”

She nodded her head, wringing her fingers in her hand. “I know that, but you didn’t send them… I did.”

You stared at her, anger silently rising as you waited for her to continue. 

“I waited until you got into the shower. You know I read the entry to Namjoon, and so when you got into the shower, I used your phone and sent a message to each guy who’s name was both in the book and in your phone. I wanted you to have someone, instead of always spending your evenings at home, bored.”

“Yuna, you knew that I did not want Namjoon to know, he and Jennie had just... and I was trying to protect him, do you see what this did?!” You threw the plushie at her angrily, standing abruptly.

“I can’t believe you would invade my privacy, you could have ruined my career, if one of those messages had been sent to the wrong person, god damn it Yuna! You’ve ruined my fucking life!”

Yuna was crying, but she set the stuffed bunny back on your bed gently before she got up and headed to leave your room. Pausing at the door, her hand poised on the door knob, she turned back to face you.

“I didn’t ruin your life. You finally had a life. You’re the one running away from it now.”

With those parting words, she left your room, closing the door and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

After Yuna left you, she went to her own room, where she scrolled through social media to find Jungkook. You already blamed her, though she felt like it was misplaced, but she felt like she might as well do something to help fix the situation. Finding Jungkook’s IG account from the photos you tagged him in, she followed him. When he returned the follow, she messaged him to contact her. 

It didn’t take long for him to respond, and she asked him to meet her out somewhere. Agreeing on a local park, Yuna changed her shoes and left you moping in your room, a note on the counter that she was headed out.

Sitting on the bench, it wasn’t hard to spot Jungkook. His tousled black hair peeking from under his black beanie and the familiar black jacket was easy to spot against the white snow that had recently fallen, but like a Seoul snowfall, it wouldn’t stick for long. Carrying a hot cocoa for him and herself, Yuna held it out to him before she sat down, sipping on the warm drink.

“Yuna, I will say I’m surprised you reached out to me.” Jungkook’s usually bright voice was tinged with sadness as he looked over at her.

“I have something to tell you.” Yuna started, and Jungkook’s nerves grew.

“I was the one who sent the journal entry to you. Not my sister.”

“Oh? Okay. Thank you for telling me I guess.” Jungkook took another deep pull from the drink, letting the heat fill his body as he swallowed.

“I mean, I sent it because I didn’t want her to grow old and be alone. Every night, coming home bored to drink wine with her baby sister and watch reruns on Netflix? I wanted her to fall in love. And she did. With you.”

“I don’t think so, Yuna. She wasn’t in love with me.”

“She was; she still is! She told me everything that happened. About how dating you was all fake. But I know it wasn’t. Not for her. And not for you. No one acts the way you two acted. I know my sister; when she told me what happened, I knew that she was hurt because she’s in love with you. Like, still in love with you. She just doesn’t believe you love her back.”

Yuna stared at Jungkook, watching the way her words sank in, waiting to confirm what she already knew: Jungkook was in love with you, too.

Jungkook’s voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “How do I convince her? That I love her back?” 

“I wish I knew Jungkook. I wish I knew. But if you don’t do something soon, I think you’ll lose her.”

——

Friday was New Year’s Eve, and you had to put up with Yuna running around like a lunatic cleaning the apartment to ring in the new year. You had finally resigned yourself to forgiving her for sending the journal entries. It was over and done with, and there was nothing more to do. Monday, you would be back at work like nothing happened, and didn’t want to go into the new year holding onto this year’s anger or sadness.

Yoongi, surprisingly, had reached out to you the day before about a party he was having to ring in the new year, and at first you didn’t want to go, but the longer you thought about it, you figured you should. Why spend the new year at home, where your sister would relentlessly tease you until she left. She had her own plans this year, going to a classmates to drink and watch the fireworks; so if you stayed home, you would be alone.

And you were tired of being alone. Sleeping in, you didn’t get up to join your sister in cleaning until later in the afternoon, going through your closet, bedroom, and bathroom.

You were scrubbing your shower when you heard the doorbell, but your sister, ever the nosey one, yelled that she would get it, so you continued cleaning, forgetting that someone had come to the door by the time you finished cleaning the bathroom. 

When you finally stopped cleaning for the day, it was close to 9 PM, so you decided to get ready for the night out at Yoongi and Hobi’s place. After about an hour and a half, you were dressed, makeup done, and ready for the party. You ventured out of your room, noticing a large blue hatbox on the kitchen counter.

“Yuna! What’s this blue box?” you yelled, and her reply carried from down the hall.

“A delivery, for you, from earlier!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you grumbled, cursing your sibling as you reached to remove the lid off of it. Inside was what looked like a photobook, a beautiful ombre of pinks and purples decorating the cover. Removing it from the box, you flip it open, noticing right away the neat handwriting that could only belong to one person. 

Sighing, you carry it to the couch, where you read the inscription he penned inside. 

“Right at this moment, I think of you.” 

Flipping through the pages, you see he’s created a scrapbook of the past month spent together. Pictures of the two of you at work, the park, each other’s places, and visiting each other’s families. Pictures of you sleeping in his arms, candids where you aren’t even aware of him taking the photos.

Each photo is vibrant, in his style of catching the light just right as it caresses your face, and you’ve never seen yourself look so beautiful. He’s scribbled little notes here and there, of what he noticed or what was happening when he snapped the camera, and you can’t help but blush when you see a photo in there of you after the two of you had sex. 

“I reach out my hand, and feel your breath. With eyes closed, before we know it, we’re together.”

Your fingers trace over the photo, where Jungkook’s face is, looking at you so lovingly as you sleep on his chest, the bed sheets from his childhood bedroom covering you both strategically so nothing indecent shows. 

The last page has a handwritten letter, not unlike the one you wrote for him all those years ago, with a tiger lily pressed inside. You looked up the meaning of the flower earlier in the day when you found the large vase while cleaning. Please love me. With shaky hands, you held the photobook and began to read.

Y/N, 

5 years ago, you thought you were in love. I can tell you with certainty that 5 years later I pray that you are, because I am so in love with you. The way you see me, I don’t think I’ve ever been seen before. My whole life I’ve been behind the camera capturing others. And somehow you have taken the camera from me and now I’m the one being captured and seen. And I love it. You make me feel like I’m not just made up of the same ingredients that make up the stars in the sky, you make me feel like the very galaxy reflected in your eyes when you look at me. You’re beautiful, and I, Jeon Jungkook, am so in love with you. When I say I’ve always loved you, that there is no start, so there can be no end: we are fated—destined; you are mine as much as I am yours. These photos are only a fraction of the way I see you, the many shades that make up who you are, how could I ever capture them all? Please know, I want to spend the rest of time trying. So in case you didn’t see it, or weren’t sure: I love you. I want to be with you. No contracts, just you, wholeheartedly as mine, and me as yours.

——

It was nearing 11 when you reached Yoongi and Hobi’s house, leaving the Uber driver with a confused look at the way you dashed out of his car. You could care less; the man you were in love with was inside that house, right now, and you would be damned to let him get away again.

Pushing through the crowd of bodies, you looked side to side, searching for the familiar black tresses, ears straining to hear his musical laugh or catch someone saying his name. Entering the living room, your eyes fell on the beer pong table, where Jimin and Taehyung were playing against Yoongi and Hobi. 

Destination set on getting to that table, you wade through the throng of people with the obligatory happy new year. Some attempted to stop to ask you how you’ve been, fill you in on the latest office gossip, or inquire about the exact relationship status of Jungkook. Those in the latter category were met with major side-eye. Plastering a fake smile on your face each time, you finally shake the last of them, jogging the last few steps until your right on the edge of the game.

“Y/N! Glad to see you!” Hobi was his typical cheerful self, greeting you with his signature smile as he watched Taehyung try and line up his shot in the cups Yoongi just re-racked.

“Hey Hobi, Happy almost New Year! Have you seen Jungkook?” you asked, skipping straight to the point.

“Um, yea, he came by earlier to drop off a few kegs for us, helped us move the furniture, but he went home. Said he wasn’t really feeling like celebrating.”

Yoongi, who had just grabbed the ping pong balls before they bounced off the table, handed one to Hobi as he gave you a pointed look.

“Yea, looked pretty heartbroken all week, if you ask me.”

“Well, no one did Yoongi. Give her a break,” Hobi answered before turning to you, “he’s probably at home. You can get there before midnight if you get an Uber quick.”

Thanking him, you threw your arms around him and Yoongi in a shared hug before waving to the other two on the far side of the table. You had someplace to be.

Outside in the quiet, you requested an Uber, happy to see one not even 2 minutes away. Thankfully, Jungkook only lived 10 minutes or so from the guys. You hoped traffic would be on your side. You knew you were cutting it close; 11:30 was approaching fast.

The ride to Jungkook’s apartment gave you too much time to think. Those 15 minutes (thanks drunk pedestrians) on the car ride over allowed the nerves to settle in, along with the doubt and fears. What if he didn’t feel that way about you anymore? What if he just wanted to bring you the photobook as a goodbye?

Shaking the thought from your head, you took a deep breath before you climbed out of the car and into the hushed cold of the last day of December. You had never shown up to his place unannounced like this, so used to trailing him into his apartment. The closed door was daunting to you, but you didn’t have much time now.

Knocking louder than you needed to due to those pesky butterflies in your stomach, what feels like an hour is only 10 seconds or so until Jungkook is standing before you. 

“Hi,” you said, breathless from the cold and from the sight of him after so many days apart.

“Hi,” he responded, looking just as mesmerized to see you at his doorstep, “uh, wanna come in?” Jungkook took a step back, giving you space to come in and you stepped forward into the welcomed warmth of his home.

The scene before you is not what you were expecting. Jungkook had been sitting in the dark, a half eaten pizza and a beer bottle on the coffee table, with his favorite blue and grey plaid blanket haphazardly cast aside on the couch; most likely from when he stood to welcome you.

Shucking off your boots, you walked into the living room, Jungkook silently trailing you.

“I—I’ve missed you.” His voice is low, as if afraid he would spook you.

“I’ve missed you too.” You turned to face him, the light from the paused Netflix show reflecting in his beautiful orbs. You took in his face, split lip mostly healed and the bruise faded along his cheek.

“I got your gift.”

“I’m glad.”

The conversation between the two of you was static, neither sure of what to do. The silence ticked on for a few more seconds before you decided to stop being a pussy.

“Did you mean it? What you said?”

“Of course I did.”

“I’m glad,” you repeated his earlier phrase, stepping closer to him. You placed your hands on his chest, solid muscles reacting to your touch as he subconsciously flexed them. “Because I love you, too.”

Rising on your tippy toes, you pressed your lips to his, your body relaxing when you heard the sigh he let out from the contact. His hands pulled you closer, deft fingers gripping you in all the right places as he deepened the kiss. He tasted faintly of pizza and beer, and smelled so strongly of his vanilla musk. You couldn’t believe how much he felt like home to you. Being in his arms felt right. 

Bending slightly, Jungkook wrapped his arms under your thighs and lifted you up, never breaking the kiss. Hoisting you up, he carried you down the hall to his room, foot kicking the door shut behind him. So turned on by his show of strength, you rolled your hips down onto what was his growing length, seeking any friction that would help ease the ache between your thighs. 

Letting out a groan, Jungkook’s hands guided your hips roughly to where he wanted you, lining up your sweet spot so you could grind on him better. Licking into his mouth, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. A slight tug exposed more of his neck, where you planted markers of your territory as you continued rolling your hips in time to his movements. 

“I want you.” The whispered words went straight to your core; hearing Jungkook’s voice break with need, need for you—you couldn’t get out of your clothes fast enough.

“Bed. Now.” You demand, and he laughs as he follows your directives, setting you down once he approached the edge of his queen sized mattress. You tug your jacket off, tossing it to the foot of his bed before peeling your shirt up over your head to reveal your bra to him. He doesn’t get to look too long; you’ve gripped the waistband of his grey sweatpants and pulled them low enough to free him from it’s confines. His cock sprung free, and, licking your lips, you switch positions with him. 

With his back to the bed, you pushed him down, and he went easily. Pressing your hand to his chest, you lay him back as you bend at the waist, bringing your mouth to his leaking head. You lick the bottom of his shaft up to the slit, collecting the pre-cum with the tip of your tongue before you take the head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip. Under your hand, you feel his abdominal muscles contract as he lets out a moan letting you know how good you feel as you take him farther into your mouth. 

Speeding your ministrations, you hollow your cheeks as you slurp around the head, using your hands to massage the dripping spit along the exposed skin you can’t reach. His hands grip your hair creating a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of your face so he can watch you. And wow, does he love the sight of your lips wrapped around his cock, innocent eyes blinking coyly up at him while your mouth is stretched around him. Keep it up and he could cum too quickly in your mouth.

When your free hand traveled to his scrotum, he jumped, feeling an overwhelming sense of pleasure as his sack tensed up.

“Wait, baby, I don’t want to cum yet.” Jungkook panted, and you pop off of him with a lewd sound that filled the quiet of his room.

Tugging you towards him, he scooted back on the bed until his head was flush with the headboard. 

“Strip for me,” he urged, and you did, undoing the button on your jeans and sliding them down until you were naked from the waist down. His eyes stared pointedly at your chest and you unclasped your bra, adding it to the growing pile of clothes the two of you had made. Watching as he shed his shirt before laying back fully, kicking his sweats free from his body, you climbed onto the bed, and he directed you farther up his body until he could maneuver your thighs to either side of his face. 

“Jungkook—”

“I’ve wanted you like this for so long, baby, please.”

Giggling softly, you lowered yourself slowly and he wound his arms around your thighs until his palms were wrestling lightly on them. The slow caress as he drew patterns on your skin matched the same pattern he drew with his tongue, you realized once he had you fully seated. Gripping the headboard, you threw your head back, rolling your hips as his lips and tongue ravaged you, the sexual sounds of him eating you out creating more for him to drink down. 

Curving your back to make you hunch forward, you adjust as the pleasure builds and you see his eyes, those bright galaxies staring at you as he pleasured you to climax and you tensed as the coil in your abdomen snapped, a mix of curse words and his name pouring from your lips as he worked you through it.

Placing your hands on his sweat laced forehead, you pushed to try and pull away from the overstimulation as he let out a laugh.

Scooting yourself down his body once he released you, you fell back and to the side of his muscular thighs, trying to catch your breath. You feel him moving, a low chuckle released as his hands grasped your wrists. Pulling you up, you see he’s now seated flush to the headboard, back against the soft grey padding. He guides your hips so that you straddle him, sitting your still sopping wet cunt onto his cock. Pressed against his stomach, he can feel the warmth emanating from your opening, and groaned, wanting to be inside of you.

Pressing his forehead to yours, his eyes meet yours as he intertwines your fingers before resting your interlocked hands behind your back at the curve of your ass.

“I love you.” His voice is strong, sure and confident in the words he says as he bares more than just his body before you. “I wanted you so badly back then, I want you even more now.” He presses a kiss to your lips, causing you to grind down on him. 

He kisses down your neck, hands still holding you in position over him. “Want to be inside of you, baby.” He nips at your neck, making you gasp, and when you rock forward, he’s rocking his hips down. 

The head of his cock presses against your core, and you settle back onto it, walls stretching to accommodate his girth. The two of you move in tandem, lips once again reunited in a raunchy kiss that only serves to turn you on more, sending enough slick between your lower lips to allow him to slip further into you until he’s bottomed out, a snug fit as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix. 

Releasing your hands, his large palms hold your back to pull you closer to him as you swivel your hips, rocking so the shaft slips in and out of you in short bounces. You rock, arms wrapped lazily around his neck as you play with the wet locks of hair as you ride him at your leisure, just enjoying the feel of your bodies connected as one. Chest to chest, you can feel the speed of his heart beat; it matches your own. 

“Can I go faster?” you asked, not wanting to go at a pace he wasn’t comfortable with.

“You can use me however you want, baby,” he replied, eyebrow cocked smugly as he gripped your waist tighter, “but please tell me I can cum inside.”

Nodding as you sped up, you bounced with more friction, his pelvic bone rubbing against your clit as you chased your high, fucking yourself on his formiddable cock.

“That’s it, fuck, baby, right there—” Jungkook’s moans, musical as he egged you on, brought you to your peak for the second time that night. Your walls clenched around him, and as your body froze, he took advantage of the moment to shift your bodies so you were on your back with your head to the foot of the bed. Bracing his feet on edge where his mattress met the headboard, he began to piston his hips into you, chasing his own high.

“Fuck, Jungkook, I’m gonna—again—” You can barely get the words out when your third orgasm is crashing around you, legs shaking from where they’re wrapped tightly around his narrow hips. Your release makes it wetter, and your swollen walls ache to feel his cum fill you.

“Gonna fill you up so good, baby, fuck a—baby into you, fuck, I want to see you carry my—my kid,” Jungkook’s cock is drowning in your essence, and hearing him talk about kids with you causes you to tighten around him, and he’s cumming, long ropes of his hot cum filling you until it’s seeping out around him as he continues to thrust indiscriminately, velvet muscle milking him dry.

Laying skin to skin in his bed, you laugh as the alarm clock numbers alert you to the fact that you had missed the New Year by 38 minutes. 

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook asked, eyes alight as he takes in your smile. 

“We missed New Year’s.”

“We didn’t miss it, we were simply enjoying our New Year’s kiss for longer than most.” He quipped back, fingers tracing patterns along your back. Your own nails were lightly scratching shapes into his chest as you rested your head on his shoulder. You spent the next 20 minutes of the first hour of the new year listening to him explain what happened with the camera strap, though you had already forgiven the incident. 

He wasn’t sure how Somin had the camera strap, though he suspected she stole it from his bag at the cafe. Jungkook told you about the meeting, how it helped him see that you weren’t a rebound; he was in love with you and while it was obvious to him, a part of him wanted to be sure before confessing to you. He didn’t want you to think he was rushing into things to get over his ex. He also apologized for fighting Namjoon, saying he was worried that seeing him fight would change how you viewed him, change his chances of being with you, this time for real.

“I love you, Jungkook, in case you didn’t know.”

“I love you too, in case you didn’t know.” 

“Hmm, but, I think we need to talk about children though, I think it’s a little too soon, despite our parents' ideas.” You giggled, and his cheeks turned red in embarrassment.

“It was just sex talk, we’re still just practicing, okay?”

Stretching, you roll away from his body, and he follows your body heat subconsciously, his body not wanting you far from him after almost a week of radio silence. 

“Hey, get back here, you’re mine.”

“Oh am I?” you teased, staying just out of his reach.

He pouted, accent slipping out as he moved closer to your retreating body.

“Yes, you’re mine, no rules, no contracts; just mine.”

“ ‘m all yours, baby,” you mumbled as you rubbed your nose to his in an eskimo kiss as he gathered you up in his arms, “and you’re mine.”

UPDATE (5.18.21): 1st Prologue is Out Now!

BTW, ily ⟢ summary: Taking place in the To All the Men I’ve Fucked Before (TATMIFB) AU, this pre-story is the backstory to you and Namjoon’s friendship. A year after losing your virginity to Jungkook, you meet Namjoon, who becomes your best friend… and who you want so much more with. Before you and Jungkook get it together in To All the Men I’ve Loved Before, there was BTW, ily.

Thank you all so much for reading! I plan on doing an epilogue and some drabbles to get more insight into the pasts of these characters! I love them so much, I don’t think I am ready to let go. The masterlist will be updated as more are added! TATMIFB Masterlist

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2021. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[lepusrufus]

Back to Bela can’t catch a break ever y’all. This time with a bit of a messier sketch but hey the chapter is slightly longer so enjoy- 

Butting heads part 2 (p1)

Ugh.

Daniela tried to lower her sister as gingerly as possible into an armchair. Despite her efforts though, a pained groan could be heard from her with each movement, no matter how small. 

“Bela, can you move your arms? I need to see your wounds.”

It took way more than it should have, but eventually the blonde managed to move her arms out of the way and Daniela could finally have a good look at the bloody mess that was her torso. She winced.

The left bicep had claw marks going all around it, torn skin mingled with the shredded fabric of her sleeve. The right shoulder had deep gashes going from the back to the chest and Daniela could swear there were small pieces of fractured bones poking out from the bloody wound with each breath. Even her neck sported a -thankfully- shallower cut. Finally, the bite on her midsection looked like Cassandra just ripped out a chunk of flesh. The hole had a pool of blood slowly dripping out past ripped skin and muscle, onto the tattered dress.

Daniela took a deep breath and went to rummage through a cabinet. She came back with a pair of shorts and a strapless bra.

“Can you change or do you need he-” She was interrupted by Bela grabbing the clothes.

“I got it.”

The redhead nodded and turned around, giving her sister some privacy, and busied herself with various medical tools. Needle holder, needles, sutures, bandages...lots of bandages. From the other side of the room she could hear light shuffling and barely withheld groans. Daniela continued to arrange the various items on a metal tray, until- 

"...Could you clasp this?" 

Daniela returned to her, putting the tray on a small table and going to help her sister, who apparently failed at clasping the bra. She immediately noticed her right arm slumped awkwardly over the armrest. 

"You can't move your arm?" 

"I can, it just hurts like hell." 

The redhead frowned and grabbed a stool, placing herself right in front of Bela. She started taking care of the left arm, wanting to get the lesser injury out of the way first. There were some fabric pieces to get out of the wounds but if the blonde felt any discomfort, she didn't show it. In all fairness, the pain from the other two injuries was probably overpowering the pulling of a few stray strands. The gashes were then cleaned and quickly wrapped in bandages.

Next was the right shoulder.

Daniela repeated the same procedure of pulling out the torn fabric that got stuck in the flesh. This time though, Bela was hissing until a jolt of pain made her jerk her shoulder backwards. The sudden motion caused the wound to stretch open slightly more, revealing the sharp tip of a fractured bone. In this new position, Daniela could clearly see the jagged placement of her sister's collarbone. She gingerly traced it on the skin, feeling for all the irregularities and grimaced. 

"Um, Bela... I think she broke your collarbone." She didn't think, she was quite certain actually.

A pause. 

Then Bela pinched the bridge of her nose, exhausted and contemplating whether or not she would heal in a timely manner if she just laid down for a couple of days as she was. 

"Wonderful."

"I'll stitch this over and it should help speed up the healing process." 

Their wounds didn't exactly need the same care humans did. They could heal almost anything in record time, their flesh and bones mending themselves thanks to their mutation. But "record time" was still gonna take a while if Bela had bone shards poking around her upper chest and shoulder while the flies regrouped into proper functioning tissue. Stitches should help keep it somewhat in place until the bone was reformed. 

Bela seemed to loathe the idea though, looking at her younger sister like she was about to inject mercury in her veins. She hated getting stitches. 

Daniela did her best to ignore her sister's bewildered look, quickly cleaning the skin of coagulated blood and grabbing the needle from the tray. The first few stitches went by with no issue. On the fourth one though, Daniela had to pull on the skin a little more than before, which made Bela hiss through gritted teeth. The process repeated until the wounds were mostly closed, keeping the muscle and bones from moving around too much. Bela's knuckles were white from gripping the armrests as if her life depended on it and Daniela decided to give her a break. 

"How do you think Cassandra is doing?" 

Bela let her head fall back, a humorless laugh escaping her lips. 

"Probably in as much pain as me," she responded, vaguely gesturing to her mangled torso with her functioning hand.

She then glanced down at her younger sister, who looked somewhere to the side, worry flashing in her eyes. A pang of guilt bit at Bela. Out of the two of them, Daniela could probably recall the most vividly how it felt to be in that state. Completely out of control and hurting and scared and oh so painfully hungry. 

And for what was worth, she didn't really blame Cassandra for their fight. It had been a tense day and Bela snapped at her sister, knowing full well where to throw a jab that would hurt. And Cassandra responded. 

"I'm sure mother is handling it. Don't worry."

The redhead only sighed and gave her a curt nod. Despite her carefree or, as some would say, crazy, nature she loved her sisters deeply. Knowing what Cassandra was going through at that very moment was upsetting her more than she would ever admit. 

"Okay last one," she said finally, grabbing a cloth to clean the wound in Bela's abdomen. 

At least the one thing they didn't need to worry about was blood loss, given how easily their blood coagulated. At this point Daniela was just wiping off black-ish chunks from her sister's skin. If she weren't used to ripping into raw flesh with her teeth, she would've probably found it gross. 

Once the area was clean, it was time for stitches. The redhead grimaced at the gaping hole, unsure on how close it. She tentatively poked the skin with the needle, feeling muscles tense up, and tried to pull the two sides of the wound shut. 

Bela doubled over, almost knocking heads with Daniela, and let out a strangled cry. The motion caused the needle to get ripped out, leaving behind a new small tear in the already shredded skin. That was the least of her worries though, as the blonde could feel pain radiating through her whole abdomen almost causing her breakfast to come up again. At this point she was almost sure that Cassandra's fangs pierced some organ and honestly, there was no stitching that. She just needed to tough it out until her flesh put itself back together. 

"Don't. Please. Just patch it up and I'll wait for it to heal by itself. I don't care how much longer it takes." It was getting increasingly hard not to slur her words due to the dizziness.

Daniela pursed her lips, uncertain whether or not Bela was in any state to make that decision but in all fairness she didn't think she could actually stitch that up. And so she grabbed a roll of bandages and started to wrap it around her sister's body. By the time she was done, Bela's torso looked almost like a mummy, only her forearms spared from injury. Her right arm was held in place with a sling, to avoid moving around any bones and by her expression she looked ready either to puke or pass out. Daniela really hoped for the latter.

While they were waiting for Bela to catch her breath an mentally prepare herself to walk to her room, the door opened slowly, allowing their mother to duck inside. She approached the armchair, now bloodstained, with worry written all over her features. 

"How are you feeling, love?" 

"I'm okay mother."

"She has a broken collarbone and a good chunk of her abdomen is missing." 

Bela snapped her head in her sister's direction, gritting her teeth in pain due to the sudden movement, but glare as fierce as ever. Daniela however only raised her arms, ignoring the unspoken threat. She knew Bela would minimize her injuries and she didn't just spend half an hour stitching together flesh and hearing moans of utter pain just for her to say that she's "okay". Alcina simply sighed and patted Daniela's head.

"Come here, I'll take you to your room." 

"I can walk," Bela replied, but made no protest when her mother's arms lifted her up gently and started carrying her to her chambers. Right now, sleep sounded like the best thing in the world. 

Soon she was lowered onto her bed just as gingerly as she was picked up and soft blankets were placed on top of her.

"-m gonna...sleep," she said, finally giving in to the tiredness. 

Her body desperately needed time and rest to start healing. She was grateful for her speedy regenerative abilities but still, she was looking at a couple days of not doing much else but sleep while her body reconstructed itself. She sighed, letting her eyes shut. Through the sleepy haze, she could feel a kiss on the forehead and a promise of food in a few hours. Then she either fell asleep or actually passed out but at least she was finally resting. 

---

After a day and a half, Bela's wounds were almost closed. On her left shoulder there were only faint scratch marks visible, while the right was still mending the broken bone. The gash in her abdomen was better too, if slower at healing since her body needed to actually make new tissue to replace the missing one. 

She was still in bed, reading a cheesy novel Daniela had brought her when a faint knock came from the door. She furrowed her brows for a moment. Daniela would have come in without knocking. Her mother would have made a far luder knock. And that only left- 

"Hey." 

The door opened slightly to reveal Cassandra. Her voice sounded hoarse and her eyes had dark circles around them. Her hair looked messy and the usual elegant attire was replaced by oversized sweatpants and a loose shirt that seemed to have blood stains on it.

"You look like hell," Bela chuckled, placing the book down without bothering with a bookmark. 

The brunette huffed and came to sit on the edge of the bed, not meeting her sister's eyes. 

"And here I was, thinking I'd come and see how you're feeling, like the good sister I am." 

"Oh are you now?" Bela's laugh was cut short by a wince when her wound shot a jolt of pain through her abdomen. She was really hoping that whatever organ got pierced was back to its normal, whole state by now. 

Cassandra's eyes snapped to her, eyes scanning every visible area covered in bandages. Her expression was a mix of worry, exhaustion and utter guilt when she finally noticed the dent visible through the cloth covering her sister's stomach. 

"Are you-" 

"Fine. It's healing, don't worry. This guy," she gestured to the pesky wound," just needs some more time to replace the tissue. You know how that goes." 

She knew. Wounds didn't take long to close and heal but due to how their bodies worked, replacing tissue was a little trickier. Had she really caused this much damage? That day was a blur to Cassandra, only remembering how she messed up the hunt, Bela snapping at her and then everything was a vague mix of rage, pain and hunger. And her sister's arm firmly pressed against her throat to keep her in place. 

She touched her neck gingerly, gaze fixated on the floor for an agonizingly long couple of seconds until Bela reached out and placed a hand on her leg. 

"Hey what's -" 

"I'm sorry." 

Bela stilled, so unused to see the brunette show her emotions, let alone remorse. If it weren't for her particularly fine hearing she would've thought that she misheard, almost asking her to repeat herself. But turns out it wasn't needed. 

"I'm sorry, Bela. I shouldn't have lost my head like that I just-...I messed up and then-...you and Dani- ugh. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

Cassandra finished her ramblings with a hand going through her hair, probably pulling at it in the process. Her eyes were glossy and Bela was at a loss for words. She didn’t expect her sister to be so deeply affected by the whole incident. Then again, for her the mutation was more a distant memory than anything, while the brunette was still struggling with it on her worst days. 

“Cassandra I’m fine really-”

“No, you’re not! Bela you have a missing chunk of flesh for Miranda’s sake!” she emphasised her words by pointing at the bloody bandages. “You’ve been locked up in here for days and Daniela and mother won’t say anything but I can see it in their eyes. They’re worried sick! And it’s my fault, I hurt you, I could’ve killed you.”

Bela stopped her by grabbing her wrists gently.

“Now don’t give yourself too much credit.” Cassandra only scoffed, shifting her gaze.”I’m serious. We can’t exactly die due to injuries and while I'm not having the time of my life here, I’ll be fine. Stop blaming yourself, I also pushed you too far.”

Cassandra slumped her shoulders in defeat. She was too tired to fight her sister’s words, especially when they were spoken with such certainty. So she opted to chew on her bottom lip until she gathered her thoughts enough to speak up, in a barely audible voice.

“Can I hug you or will it rattle some broken bones?”

Bela winced at the thought.

“Only the left side please.”

[anon-e-miss]

At Waiting‘s End - Recovery

“I am not damaged,” Prowl said as Jazz tried to help him up after the bitlet had drunk his fill. “I gave emergence ten stellar-cycles ago, I have long recovered.”

“Sorry,” Jazz replied, though he did not feel especially chastised. Prowl had liked being fussed over after crashes or injuries at any point in his Autobot tenure.

“Originator…” Prowl looked to Camshaft.

“Go,” his originator ordered. “Take my grand creation to safe harbor. I will follow when the work here is done.”

The flood had ebbed some by the time Jazz stepped back into the tunnel with Prowl. Down where he had seen mechanisms working to stop the leak, he saw the same mechanisms using a bilge pump. It was novel to him. He had seen survivors of mass slaughter before, had seen their hollow and haunted optics. These mechanisms organized and collected, working diligently against the continued threats to their survival. Jazz thought Prowl’s stalwart nature may not be entirely so unique to him. They did not talk as the ascended the tunnel. Though Jazz had so many questions, all surrounding the bitlet in Prowl’s arms, he kept them to himself for now.

It was eerie and quite as they stepped out into the crater. The acid rain had stopped for now. Prowl rolled his doorwings as he looked around, holding his bitlet close to his chassis. Jazz heard the little bitty cooing and he long to get a closer look, and just a touch but he did not dare. Seeing the way Prowl’s plating flared, ever so slightly out, he knew Prowl was nervous. Hound responded to Jazz’s comm with a ping, giving him the location of the mobile camp Optimus was setting up, Jazz placed a servo on the small of Prowl’s back and guided out of what had once been the brilliant core of his city-state. So still and quite were the ruins, when they crested the steep bowl of the crater, the near silent whimper Jazz heard may as well have been a scream.

“Stay here,” Jazz ordered. “I hear somethin’.”

“Jazz,” Prowl called after him, but Jazz was already moving.

He listened intently as he explored the wreckage of what he thought had been an agricultural village; Jazz could still make out the remains of fields. It was a sniffle, just a sniffle that narrowed his search grid. Jazz. The first thing he saw was a dead youngling, lying face down in the debris with a blaster wound in the back. They had known the Seekers had been picking off survivors but seeing a poor mechling lying dead… beyond the mechling, only steps away was another. It was horrifying. These were not even just civilian adults but mechlings, just mechlings. Jazz listened intently and heard another sniffle. He followed the quiet noise to a pile of debris. There was a long piece of sheeting, probably the side of an old barn and pulled it away.

“No! No! Please no!” The mechling cried as he covered his helm with his arms.

“Y’re okay, bitlet,” Jazz cooed. “‘M an Autobot, ‘m here to rescue ya.”

“No, no, no, no,” the mechling cried. “They said that. They said that.”

“Jazz,” Prowl called to him. “Step back.”

“Prowl,” Jazz sighed, seeing the former SIC standing a few steps away. He must have been drawn over by the sparkling’s cries. “I told ya to stay.”

“And I elected not to,” Prowl replied. “Now step back. In this area, he has probably never met a foreign-frame that was not trying to kill him.”

“A’ight,” Jazz said, he stepped back with his servos raised as Prowl stepped up. He watched, with rapt attention, as Prowl revved his engine in a sweet little purr and crooned and the mechling.

“Come out of there, Sweetspark,” he said. “This is not place for you.”

“You… you… you’re Praxian,” the mechling whimpered.

“I am,” Prowl said. “Come out now, come with me. Jazz is a friend, I swear on my spark.”

“Are you sure?” The mechling squeaked.

“I am very sure, Darling,” Prowl crooned. “He is the progenitor of my bitlet. He would not do anything to put us in harm’s way.”

“Okay,” the little mech shivered as he stood up from his hiding place. He looked only at Prowl, straight up at his face. Jazz thought he had already peaked out and seen the death all around him. They could have been his kin, or they could have been his friends, or they could have been mechlings that had just somehow survived the bombings, just to be shot as they fled the Seekers.

“What is your designation?” Prowl asked.

“Bluestreak.”

“I am Prowl. My bitlet is Smokescreen. You and we are safe with Jazz.”

“Can I pick ya up?” Jazz asked. “Ya must be tired ‘n I don’t want ya hurtin’ yerself steppin’ on anythin’.”

“Okay.”

“Are ya cold?” Jazz asked.

“A little,” Bluestreak shivered. “I got rained on.”

“When we get ya back home, you’ll have a nice long bath,” Jazz promised. “In the meantime, lemme put a warming blanket ‘round ya.”

It was not just to keep him warm. Jazz cover Bluestreak’s helm and as the mechling rest it on his shoulder, Jazz tugged the blanket up to cover his face. He did not need to see any more than he had. Arms full of traumatized sparkling, Jazz could not hold Prowl’s arm or guide him at all, but he supposed there had never really been a need to. Prowl was nibble as he stepped around and over debris. He dipped his doorwings to each murdered mechanism they based. Primus, Jazz cursed, cursed the god and himself. The Autobots had been so close, so close but too far to stop this carnage. It seemed to him there had been considerably more survivors in the outskirts, in the farming country, than there had been in the city-state’s core. They had still died, because the Autobots had not been able to break through the Decepticon lines fast enough to save them.

“I don’t believe it,” Ratchet gasped. “Prowl?”

“He was the sniper takin’ out those flyin’ petrorats,” Jazz explained. “There are over 10,000 survivors waitin’ for evac in the catacombs. Prowl’ll coordinate wit his ori, designated Camshaft, to see ‘em all transported out safe.”

“I am fine, Ratchet,” Prowl groused as the medic’s scanners fell on him. “Focus on the mechling.”

“It’s good to see you in one piece, Prowl,” the Prime’s deep voice boomed and Jazz watched Prowl straighten, ever the perfect solder. “I’m sorry for all you lost.”

“We had lost before the bombs fell,” Prowl replied. “Me and mine have been hiding in the catacombs, all those Nightstalker wished to cleanse. I am sorry we did not rescue more while we could.”

“There was floodin’ in the tunnels,” Jazz said. “Looks like got a good pump system sorted but don’t know how long it can all hold. I’d like to see’em out quick.”

“We’ll see it done,” Optimus said. “Escort Prowl and the survivors we’ve gathered so far. The Autobots will remain in Praxus until every survivor is life flighted. No one will be left behind.”

[sugamamacustard]

Helping hand.

Pairing: Mob boss! Alpha! Kenma Kozume x Omega! Reader

Genre: NSFW

Request: Ok but im really in love with the ABO mafia and, here me out, Alpha Mob boss Kenma who's omega S/O suddenly gets her heat while in a meeting at another boss's house (like Oikawa or even Suga)

Summary: You were always so good for your alpha. There are some things that fall out of your control however, things that may put a wrench in your good behaviour. 

Author’s Note: Okay, there’s these headcanons about Tendo, and (I think) Kita and Sakusa punishing their S/O for swearing and I cannot find these for the life of me. Please help out Custard man!

Requests: Open!

WARNINGS: Daddy! Kink, Degradation, Kenma is mean >:(, but it’s okay, we love him. I also used a Fem! Reader, GN was really hard to write last time ‘^_^ sorry!

➵ One of the many, many things Kenma loved about you was that you always behaved.

➵You didn’t like punishments, just as much as he didn’t like giving them to you (They were frankly exhausting).

➵So you behaved, listened to all of your alpha’s rules, even went above and beyond sometimes. 

➵Such a perfect little omega. 

➵Walking to your bedroom, Kenma smiled softly, quickly adjusting the tie he wore around his neck. He had a meeting with Suga within the hour and had to “Look presentable”. Gross. 

➵ You poked your head up at the sound of the door opening, eagerly putting down the switch console in you hands. 

➵You were wearing a loose romper, with legs that stopped midthigh and accompanying thigh highs- signature black choker around your neck. 

➵Kenma liked to keep things simple and classy with you. 

➵ Every thing was simplistic and just how Kenma liked it. 

➵Just how you both like it. 

➵ “Kitten.”  He hummed, watching you get up, placing the switch in your small backpack. The backpack was your to go bag whenever you needed to go somewhere with your alpha, filled with snacks, a water bottle, coloring books, regular novels and your (His) switch. 

➵ He waited for you to skip to his side, turning and walking with an arm around your waist, making his way to the meeting room. 

➵Suga was bringing his omega along today, so you’d have someone to play with on Animal crossing.

➵Kenma wouldn’t admit it, but he was excited to see your smile when you found out.

➵ “Alpha, who are we meeting with? Oikawa? Ushijima?” You paused, gasping. “Terushima?”

➵ “No. None of those.” The door opened, Suga and his Omega both looking up. You waved excitedly, shaking Kenma’s arm. 

➵You both excitedly chirped at each other, Kenma pulling you along to his side of the table. You soon were perched on his lap, playing with Suga’s omega while Kenma and Suga were talking about weapons trades.

➵Very rarely did you actually care about the conversation but you would listen in enough to know what it was about.

➵Guns. It was about guns. Not like video game guns but real life, dangerous guns that daddy didn’t want you near

➵That was fine with you though. You didn’t want to touch them anyway. 

➵You never wanted  to disobey daddy.

➵Halfway through the meeting, you grunted lowly, adjusting yourself on Kenma’s lap. You felt a pool of heat boil your lower gut, making a flurry of unease set like a stone in your stomach. The only reason you ever felt like this was-

➵You reached into your backpack, quickly pulling out your phone and unlocking it. The background was a picture of you and Kenma at a video game tournament, your eyes closed as you pressed a swift peck to his cheek. You ignored the picture momentarily, quickly clicking on an app,  a flame decorating the face of the app.

➵You frowned at the words you were met with.

➵ “Your heat is coming in three weeks! Better start prep!”

➵ You didn’t know where to go from here. Heat continued to pool in your stomach, making you wither in your spot. 

➵Kenma looked down to you every once in a while, but you didn’t pay that any mind.

➵ Was your heat coming early?

➵You didn’t want that! That means daddy would have to leave his meeting to take care of you!

➵ No you were fine. Just- just sick? Yeah that sounded right. 

➵ Fuck were you hot right now. 

➵ No! You would hold out. Be good for daddy! 

➵ “I apologize for cutting this meeting short, Sugawara, there are some things that need my urgent attention. I’m sure you understand.” You were picked up with Ease, making you chirp. 

➵ “Perfectly. Until next time Kozume.” 

➵You merely watched over Kenma’s shoulder, the door closing behind you as you were carried off.

➵You almost wanted to cry for disappointing daddy.

___

“Pretty, pretty kitten.” Fingers trailed under your panties, sliding between your slick folds, making your whine with need. “In the middle of a meeting and your squirming like a dog with fleas. I thought you liked behaving for daddy, you whore.”

“I do- I love behaving for daddy! ‘m sorry! I couldn’t help it!” You were already tearing up, gripping onto Kenma’s business slacks like your life depended on it. 

He huffed through his nose, inserting a finger into your cunt. “Couldn’t help it?” 

You shook your head, grinding yourself uselessly against his hand. “No daddy! My heat came early!  I don’t- It says I have another three weeks but I’m so hot and I need Daddy’s cock. Please-” 

Your alpha clicked his tongue, inserting another finger while unbuckling his belt with his other hand. He gave himself a few lazy stroked, moving his fingers in a rocking motion.  You moaned loudly, pushing against him as you fought the urge to touch yourself.  

Still had to listen to Daddy’s rules. You reminded yourself of each one mentally, throwing your head back. 

“Can I touch you daddy? Please?” You pleaded, reaching up and threading your hands through his hair when he nodded. A third finger prodded you entrance, raising to tease your clit before pulling away completely. Whining at the loss got you a harsh glance from Kenma, who pulled you onto his lap wordlessly. 

Your panties were dragged down, resting just beneath the bend of your knee, allowing your alpha to position you much easier. 

“Good cock-whores have to work for relief, kitten.”  

You only moaned a response as you sunk down on your alpha’s cock, already quelling the heat in your stomach.

[lxngbottom]

Mute. | N.L (Part 3)

in which the reader doesn’t talk, and neville finally changes that.

warnings: bullying, swearing (lmk if there are more!)

word count: 3,504

okay final part hahaha i just really love protective neville PLS

PART 2 HERE!

—

neville cursed her name as he walked at their meeting spot.

‘damn her for being so amazing.’

if he thought he couldn’t get y/n off of his mind before, this was completely different. y/n was the only thing that ran through his mind. it had gotten to the point where he couldn’t even sleep without dreaming of your face, and your small giggle that he loved so much.

and that smile. that fucking smile.

merlin, he was head over for y/n y/l/n.

the last couple of weeks the pair had hung out almost every single day. at first, y/n went back to not speaking the first couple of days, but finally, neville brought up a story about how he almost fell off of the moving staircases, and she laughed and told him a similar story.

it had only been just the two of them, and neville couldn’t seem to get enough. on days when they wouldn’t hang out, he would just sit in the common room, bored out of his mind. only having thoughts of you and what you were reading the library that day.

as neville looked at his watch, he felt something poking his arm. he turned his head, and met eyes with the girl of the hour,

“oh, hey y/n.” he greeted her sweetly, a smile forming onto his face. he couldn’t help but to always smile when he was around her, he assumed it was just the comforting energy that she gave off.

“hi.” she responded shyly, still getting used to talking all the time. “your tie is messed up...”

neville furrowed his eyebrows for a moment, attempting to snap himself out of getting lost in how gentle her voice was. but he finally looked down at his tie, and chuckled nervously,

“oh, didn’t even notice. thanks,”

she smiled lightly at him, feeling warmth go to her cheeks. in the past few weeks she had gotten to know neville, she realized that she may have developed her first ever crush. she loved how he spoke, how much emotion he put into every word he uttered. and plus, he was absolutely adorable in her eyes. she started to wish that she had met him sooner. but, she also had to remind herself that neville would never fancy her. even though he wasn’t the most social himself, people still liked him. and how on earth out of all the girls that he could be with in this school, he would choose her?

it was simple. he wouldn’t.

the pair began to walk to the great hall, like they had done together almost every morning. y/n informed neville that she had in fact done some research on gillyweed,

“i think it could come in handy at some point. like, in this one poem i read, this boy was trying to find treasure at the bottom of the ocean, but it was really deep and—“

y/n looked over at neville, and noticed his eyes. she quickly stopped her rambling, “never mind. that’s dumb...”

neville almost let out an audible scoff at her words. he wanted to listen to every word she had to say for the rest of his life. “no, keep going. i’m interested!”

y/n hid her face behind her books once again, nervous to show her small smile. “it’s okay. the stuff i read isn’t that—“

“y/n.” he stopped her, and she looked up at him once more. “just keep talking.”

she reluctantly nodded, surprised at how the tone in his voice changed. but, she kept talking anyways.

—

as the two arrived into the great hall, y/n automatically began to walk away from neville. she hated the thought of him being seen with her, and being made fun of for it. plus, she couldn’t bring herself sit with him and his friends.

neville watched as she walked ahead of him, and he frowned. he had offered to give her a seat beside himself, dean, and seamus, but she turned it down. he had an idea of why, but that didn’t mean it bothered him any less.

“wait, y/n!”

y/n stopped on her feet, and turned her body. he walked up to her once again,

“you should sit with me today,”

the simple statement made y/n’s body tremble. no. she couldn’t. she wouldn’t.

“i don’t like seeing you sit by yourself. and, i like to think you’re my... fri—friend now.” he stuttered out, not too keen on just being her friend. “it’s only me a couple of my friends. i promise.”

y/n glanced up at him, and then at the four boys who were sitting where neville usually sat. when she looked at him again, she shook her head.

“i-i-i can’t...”

neville sighed, and pushed her books down so he could fully see her face.

“you can, y/n. i promise.”

for one moment, y/n felt as if it was just the two of them. that this great hall, they had it all to themselves. maybe they would slow dance to no music like she had read in one of her novels. maybe he would kiss her and whisper how beautiful she was in her ear.

a girl could dream.

y/n looked back at neville’s friends one more time, still terrified. but, the look on his eyes assured her that she would be okay.

“um... o—okay.”

he smiled widely at her, teeth and all. and he grabbed her bag, and started walking towards the familiar seating area. y/n sighed, mentally preparing herself for what was about to happen. she began to over think as she approached the boys. they hadn’t even noticed her yet, too busy talking about what boys talk about.

neville set her bag down on the table, and noticed harry and ron sitting with dean and seamus,

“hey guys, where’s hermione?” neville asked,

“not sure. studying for a test today or something like that. i don’t usually keep up on—“

ron had begun to answer, but when he looked up, he locked eyes with a familiar figure. his eyes went wide a bit, and he hit harry’s leg under the table. harry then looked up, and smiled at the girl.

“hey, y/n. how are you?”

y/n was a bit shocked from harry’s question, as he was one of the only few people who had ever attempted to speak to her. they shared plenty of classes together, and y/n always felt bad for him when they got paired up for an assignment.

the name rang throughout seamus and dean’s ears, and they looked up as well. she sent them a small wave, still keeping her mouth closed.

she sat down beside neville, listening in on the small chatter between the five boys. but, she decided on reading her herbology book instead. neville wasn’t going to put any pressure on her to talk to them, but he just wanted her to have some company at breakfast.

as time went by, y/n’s nerves seemed to come to a halt. she was too lost into her book to even understand what the boys were saying.

“what book is that?” seamus asked her suddenly, and she looked up at him through hooded eyes. he didn’t necessarily expect a response, but he couldn’t help but to let his curiosity take over.

she flipped the book up, showing him the front cover, “merlin, don’t tell me longbottom has gotten you into reading books about plants!”

the boys chucked, and neville scratched his neck in embarrassment. y/n simply shrugged at the irish boy, still a bit scared to respond. she then reached her hand over to grab a piece of toast, and they watched her intently as she did so. it was the most human thing that they had ever seen her do besides reading a book.

dean furrowed his eyebrows as he looked down at her wrist, “that bracelet is really cool. where’d you get it?”

neville looked over at her, seeing the way her face dropped from dean’s question. y/n looked back at him, hoping to get some sort of comfort. and of course, he provided her with just that. he nodded his head, encouraging her it seemed.

“erm...” she began, mindlessly playing with the same bracelet, “m—my mum... she m-makes them...”

seamus’s eyes practically popped out of their sockets, as well as the other three boys. she had just talked. they felt like they were looking at a blue moon,

“that’s cool! maybe you could get your mum to make one for me?” dean joked, flashing her a toothy smile. y/n smiled back at him, but quickly looked back down to hide her face.

neville nudged her side, and got closer to her ear. “i think you’re doing pretty good.”

the compliment made her cheeks warm up even worse, and the rosy color had to be visible at this point.

for the rest of breakfast, y/n didn’t read her book. she sat up, listened to the boy’s conversations. she even corrected seamus’s grammar at one point, to which he said:

“she talks once and now she’s trying to teach me how to speak!”

neville was about to kick his friend under the table, but stopped when he heard her giggle from the joke. the other boys joined in with her, and neville eventually.

y/n finally felt like she belonged somewhere. and for once, she didn’t mind not being alone.

—

as the school day went by, students attended their classes, y/n had never felt more happy in her whole life. and, it was noticeable from other students. she didn’t speak, but the smile on her face spoke a thousand words.

y/n skipped out potions, relived to finally be free from professor snape’s grasp. she wanted to go the library and research quidditch. all of the guys had been talking about it earlier that morning, and y/n realized that she knew absolutely nothing about it. she had never even been to a match before.

but, what y/n didn’t know, is that her day was about to change drastically:

“hey, mute!”

y/n stopped in her tracks, already recognizing the taunting voice. she chose to ignore him, though. she kept walking, but she only heard the sound of fast footsteps behind her. she then saw a familiar fluff of white hair, walk in front of her, stopping her once more.

“what are you reading? “how to properly speak?”” malfoy joked, leaning over to read the covers of her books. “oh! a quidditch book, huh? you wouldn’t happen to fancy one of the quidditch players would you now, mute?”

y/n shook her head, as that wasn’t the truth at all.

“i saw you talking to longbottom earlier, today. you guys would make a great couple. the lard and the mute... ha! quite funny, actually!”

y/n of course didn’t respond, only looked down at her feet.

“i’m quite parched, mute. how about you?” y/n looked up at him, and furrowed her eyebrows.

malfoy had always said the most random things to her. she was surprised he was even in the top rank of their class. he was a blithering idiot in her eyes.

“pumpkin juice?” he asked, but it sounded more like an offer.

and in that moment, y/n felt the feeling of liquid pouring onto her head. it began to fall down her face, onto her clothes, just everywhere on her physical body. she heard laughter from the students that had passed by.

there was silence for a moment. y/n wiped the sticky pumpkin juice out of her eyes, and from her lips as well. she narrowed her eyes at malfoy, who stood grinning in front of her as the liquid continued to drip on her.

“still parched? maybe you’ll be able to speak now, mute!” y/n heard from behind her. pansy parkinson stepped beside malfoy, and crossed her arms in triumph.

silence.

y/n didn’t move a single inch, her body still relaying in the shock from the situation. her emotions felt as if they were about to burst from her, and she felt like she could scream.

“hey, what’s going on?” dean asked his friends, tapping neville’s shoulder. the three looked down the hall, and saw a large group of students in a circle.

“maybe someone is about to fight! come on!” seamus rushed his friends, already sprinting down the hall. dean and neville followed quickly, and soon enough, they joined in the circle, pushing their way up to the front.

but what they were met with wasn’t a fight, nor a simple argument. it was something much worse.

y/n, covered head to toe in pumpkin juice.

draco and pansy stood right in front of her, taunting her. neville’s fists clenched as he put the pieces together, and he swore he thought he was about to jump on top of malfoy.

“this isn’t good...” seamus muttered to dean, and the boy nodded his head in agreement as they all continued to watch.

malfoy stepped closer to her, the smell of pumpkin filling his nostrils. “hey, at least you’ll taste nice if someone kisses you. which, is highly unlikely, but who knows?”

in that moment, y/n couldn’t swallow anymore. she couldn’t keep the words down. they were coming out whether she wanted them to or not,

“fuck. you.”

students gasped, other’s eyes widened. mute had spoken, and everyone had heard it.

a mantra of “oooo’s” left the mouths of draco’s friends, but malfoy, he was in pure disbelief. “wow! she speaks!” he laughed, still shocked. “guess all you needed was some pumpkin juice to make your mouth move, isn’t that right, mute?”

all of the anger that y/n had pent up due to malfoy was reaching the surface, and if you looked close enough, you could practically see the steam coming out of her ears.

y/n never was impulsive, nor did she ever really fight back in situations like these. but, the simple disrespect of it all had her fired up, and she wouldn’t rest until she did something about it.

“malfoy,” she began softly, and he hummed in response.

“think fast!”

before malfoy knew it, the same quidditch book collided into his face. his head fell back, and he ended up losing balance. he groaned in pain, and felt blood dripping from his nose.

students around them bursted into laughter, and y/n’s eyes widened from what she had just done. parkinson snarled at the girl, attempting to help the blonde up. y/n giggled when she saw the blood pouring from his nose, and malfoy caught it.

“you think this is funny?!” he yelled, stepping closer to her once more, and y/n suddenly noticed mcgonagall rushing over towards the large group. she began to dash away, pumpkin juice and all still stuck to her body. malfoy continued to yell vile things at her, making sure to ensure that she would regret this day.

y/n sprinted through the halls, and finally settled on hiding in a prefect bathroom.

she quickly found herself standing in front of a mirror, staring at herself. she let out a small chuckle from how she looked, the pumpkin juice still prominent.

usually in scenarios like this, y/n would run and hide away in the library to cry. but, not this time. as a matter of fact, there wasn’t an inch of her that had the desire to cry. if anything, she felt... happy.

she had finally stood up for herself. it may have been in an impulsive, immature way, but, she still did it. and in her eyes, that’s all that truly mattered.

y/n began to clean her face off, hissing as the paper towel rubbed on her dried skin. she cursed draco malfoy’s name as she attempted to get the sticky liquid out of her eyebrows. because yes, the pumpkin juice had gotten stuck in them.

“y/n?”

the voice made y/n jump, and she turned around to see who it was.

“oh... hi, neville.”

he smiled at her, relieved that she was still talking.

“i didn’t mean to scare you. i just—i saw what happened... and was worried about you.”

y/n couldn’t help but to blush from his kindness. he had been worried about her? no one had ever let the thought cross their mind that she might be in some sort of trouble, but alas... neville longbottom was different.

“it’s fine... thank you.”

she turned back around, and began once more to clean her face off. neville stood at the entrance awkwardly, not really knowing what he should do.

“um...” he started, glancing around at the bathroom. “i want to help, but... i’m not too sure if i’m even allowed to be in here.”

y/n looked at his reflection through the mirror, and giggled slightly. “you can come in. no one else is in here.”

neville nodded, but mentally, he was trying to hide the fact that her voice was taking such an affect on him. it had been that way ever since she had first spoken to him. he couldn’t get over how fragile her voice was. how sweet she sounded when she spoke. and the look in her eyes... it was all but pure innocence. and, neville loved every bit of it.

he stepped inside, and slowly made his way over to her. he watched for a moment as she wiped her face off, attempting to take in her pumpkin juice covered features.

“are you alright?” he asked suddenly, and y/n looked over at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“yeah, why wouldn’t i be?”

neville had to stop himself from letting out a sigh of relief,

“well, what malfoy did was really... mean. i just wanted to make sure you were—“

“neville,” she quickly cut him off, “i’m fine. i promise.”

she shot him a shy smile, and tossed the paper towel in the trash bin. she then grabbed another one, continuing once more.

“here...” he whispered, reaching his hand out towards the paper towel, “let me help.”

she reluctantly nodded, nervous to even think about the fact that his hands would be so close to her face. she handed him the paper towel, and to her surprise, he wet the towel under the sink.

“i didn’t even think about doing that...” she admitted, and she clenched her teeth together out of embarrassment.

he chuckled, and began to wipe her face off gently.

y/n felt herself getting lost into the boy’s facial features. his small freckles, his perfectly contorted nose, the way his lips parted a bit as he focused in on her face.

“here, lift up,” he requested, taking her chin in between his fingers, and lifting her head up slightly. the contact made her heart being to beat at an unmeasurable pace, and she swore that he could see how red she was becoming.

“what you did was pretty awesome. i told you that you could do it.”

she smiled at him, “well, i probably wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”

“why’s that? i didn’t do anything.”

y/n shrugged, “well... you’ve helped me... with... a lot, i think. so... thank you.”

neville stopped wiping her face,

“no problem.”

he then threw the towel away, but, didn’t seem to step away from y/n. it seemed as if he had only gotten closer to her, without even realizing it. he looked down at her, his tall figure seeming to completely tower over her.

he stared at her face, and he couldn’t even believe how beautiful she was.

“you got some... on your lip...” he informed her.

“oh...” she went to reach her hand up to wipe it off, but neville’s hand seemed to come up way faster.

before she knew it, his thumb was gliding over her lips slowly, and her breath hitched when she realized what was happening. neville seemed to realize what he had done as well, because he stopped just a few moments after he had started. but, his thumb never left her bottom lip.

y/n gulped, staring into his endless eyes. she had so many emotions going through her body at that moment, she didn’t even know how to react. all she knew, is that she wanted one thing.

neville seemed to see right through her, and honestly, he wanted the same thing. so, as his thumb remained stuck to her bottom lip, their faces began to slowly move closer towards each other. y/n could feel her breathing become unsteady as it happed. but, her anxiety wasn’t stopping her anymore.

their lips collided, and neville finally moved his thumb, but his hand came up to the side of her neck. the kiss carried so much innocence, but so much desire all at the same time. y/n had never had her first kiss, but merlin, she knew that this would probably be the best once she would ever receive in her whole life.

when they finally pulled away, the two were breathless. but, they still couldn’t seem to pull their eyes away from each other.

neville knew, all in that moment, she was perfect for him. the kiss was simply a confirmation.

“your lips taste nice...”

—

tags: @cc12-02 @mysticlights-blog @sugukui

[dontwantthenextcommanderiwantyou]

Okey the season ended so we can talk about it now.

I think they handled the angst between Raelle and Scylla beautifully. I loved them finding each other and forgiveness. It's not just Realle forgiving Scylla. I feel like Scylla found her own redemption too. And their love stand againts everything.

Orphan Black handled Cosima x Delphine's story pretty poorly. I was worried about something like that but I'm happily surprised that Elliot come through.

Their relationship started pretty fast. So we never had time to actually see them building things with time. For me their love wasn't as strong looking or deep in season 1. But this season they took their time. We see them loving the other fiercely, kindly and of course distantly. We are sure of their love now, as Realle is sure too. 1x9 is long time ago now. The question marks are gone.

Also one of the thing that i loved about their storyline is that we never see any unreasonable drama. No cheating, nothing toxic. Most shows feed from these storylines, not even caring what they are doing to their characters arc. But there was none of that in MFS. They respected their love and made sure they didn't destroy that for the sake of drama.

Anyway,I love reading your takeaway. So what do you think about their storyline this season? Did you like it? Was there something you would change? And if you compare Seaoson 1 Raylla to Season 2, what is your takeaways.

(I'm not a native english speaker so forgive me for my poor writing. )

"Also one of the thing that i loved about their storyline is that we never see any unreasonable drama. No cheating, nothing toxic."

YES! THIS! EXACTLY! I swear I get so tired of all the drama these shows throw into a relationship for no reason. Some people were legit hoping for a "love triangle" where Raelle uses M to make Scylla jealous and I'm just over here like why the fck would you even want some dumb shit like that??? Raelle and Scylla obviously love each other even tho they're not together, like it couldn't have been more obvious that they both needed to work on themselves, but people wanna throw in a whole third person just to cause more trouble smh I'm so glad Eliot didn't go down that shitty road, even Taylor mentioned in an interview that Raelle wouldn't hook up with someone else out of spite because her love for Scylla is so strong.

I LOVE the way they handled their relationship this season as well as how they handled each character's individual growth. I'm glad they gave adequate time before the Raylla reunion, they didn't have them makeup quickly, they also didn't drag out their separation longer than it needed to be. I think the entire 8th episode was exactly what they needed to go thru before they could get back together. Scylla was respectful of Raelle's boundaries, she handled Abigail's contempt towards her so well... she went in with no expectations other than to help and protect Raelle and her sisters. Raelle not only acknowledged the fact that Scylla has changed, but she defended Scylla even when they were all under Nicte's spell in the cabin... in a moment where they're all slinging mud at each other she still points out that they wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for Scylla. Everything was perfect. Scylla only offered, she never pushed. Raelle kept an open mind, she didn't shut Scylla out. Their reunion couldn't have been handled any better.

I liked Raelle's storyline with Mother Mushroom, I'm glad some things fell into place by the finale but I still have questions. I really wish they would've explained how Scylla knew the seed for Mother Mushroom and how Mother Mushroom knew Raelle had that graveyard memory. I know they didn't have time to get to this in the finale but I can't help wondering if Raelle tells Scylla that Mother Mushroom is made up of dead witches... which includes Scylla's parents... that'd be interesting.

I fcking loved Scylla's storyline with adoptive mom Anacostia, then with mother-in-law Willa, and they even squeezed in a bit with foster daughter Breanna and father-in-law Edwin. Scylla's S1 storyline was completely about Raelle, so I'm happy we got to see her bonding with other people because building those relationships helped her grow. I mean it when I say "I came for Raylla, I stayed for Scyllacostia"... two women, on opposite sides, so different yet so much alike. Beautiful!

Comparing S1 Raylla to S2 Raylla... the first thing that comes to mind is while I believe their love for each other in S1 was real, by the end of that season, neither of them believed the others love was real. Raelle found out she was Scylla's mark & understandably doubted Scylla's feelings for her. Then Scylla begs for her forgiveness, making a point that she chose Raelle over the Spree, but the last thing Raelle says to her is "I'm sorry we ever met". Then you have S2 where by the end of this season, both of them know 100% that the other's love for them runs so deeply it can't be denied. We saw the love they still had for each other from the beginning, when Edwin asks Raelle about Scylla, when Willa talks about Raelle's childhood, it's written across Raelle & Scylla's faces every time they thought about the other. The difference this season was they had time to build a strong foundation for their relationship, whereas in the first season they just dove in head first.

Let me stop before I end up writing a whole novel on here 😂 I could legit go on and on about Raylla.

[nagitoandkokichioneshots]

Nagito’s Fluff Alphabet

Mod Ibuki: Yes!!! Two of Mod Ibuki’s favorite things! Fluff and Nagito! Here you are, Nonnie! I hope you enjoy! Fluff alphabet is from @mod-sonia-writes-stuff

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

-Nagito loves being able to just spend time with or around his SO. I feel like one of his favorite things would be quiet dates while cuddling and just enjoying each others company.

-Nagito would love to do quiet activities with his SO like reading outside or going for walks on sunny days.

B eauty- What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

-....This man you guys.... Nagito would believe every inch of his SO is the most beautiful thing in the universe! Nagito would adore his SO in all of their being.

-If his SO is insecure about something, you’d better believe he’s going to spend the next few hours telling you about how much he adores every bit of you and how your so called “flaws” are really just what make you even more beautiful.

-Although, Nagito is more of one to fall in love with his SO for who they are, rather than what they look like. I think he finds his SO’s kindness to be the most beautiful thing about them.

C omfort- How would they help their S/O when they feel down/have a panic attack?

-Nagito can read his SO like a novel. When he notices them starting to spiral, you’d better believe he’ll be there with his arms open. Nagito has had more than his fair share of panic attacks, so he’s also pretty quick to realize when his SO starts to spiral.

-He starts out by pulling you into his arms and repeating sweet nothings as well as reminders that you are safe.

-After you calm down, he’d ask you if you’d want to talk about it, and he’d hands down be the best listener when it came to needing a listening ear.

-If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s completely fine! Nagito would spend the rest of the day telling you how much he loves you and would probably be watching your comfort shows/movies with you.

D reams- How do they picture their future with their s/o?

-Honestly, Nagito never even would’ve thought he would’ve gotten this far. His luck has blessed him with an angel.

-He’s hesitant about planning ahead too much, because he’s afraid his bad luck will jinx everything.

-But deep down, Nagito would be happy as long as you loved him forever, and he got the chance to love you forever <3

E qual- Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

-Nagito overall is pretty passive, most of the time he lets his SO make decisions because for a while, he didn’t believe he was good enough to be making decisions.

-It took a lot of love and convincing on your part to remind him that you are equals in your relationship and you wanted his input.

-Even after he brings to make suggestions for date ideas and such, he would always seem to want your approval. Give it to him. Give it to him now

F ight- Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

-Honestly, fights with Nagito are about as rare as they come.

-I honestly find it hard to believe Nagito would really have true fights with his SO.

-When/if they do fight though, usually it would be about Nagito’s SO trying to help him with his self depreciation.

G rattitude- How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

- Nagito is beyond grateful for his SO! He’ll let you know every second he gets the chance to as well!

-“SO, I truly am lucky to be graced with your beautiful hope every day”

- Nagito is more than aware of what his SO is doing for him and honestly feels guilty at first. He thinks he doesn’t deserve you, but overtime that insecurity fades

H onesty- Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

-I think Nagito would be a mostly open book with his SO, although it would take a while for him to open up to them.

- Once he’s comfortable, I believe he would tell his SO just about anything

I nspiration- Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helping them over some personal problems?

-I think we all are aware of Nagito’s self depreciation by now.

- It took a long time, but eventually you were able to help him break this hateful way of thinking.

-Anytime he would say he was trash or unworthy, you would step in with complimenting him instead

-“Are you really sure it’s okay for trash like me to touch you?”

-“Nagito, I think you’re beautiful. And yes, I’m completely sure.”

-The first time you did this he was completely taken aback

-Nagito.exe has stopped working

J ealousy- Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

-Nagito does get jealous easily, but not in the traditional sense.

-For instance, if he sees his SO spending time or talking with someone else, he goes back to self deprecating.

-When he gets like this, he does one of two things

1) distances himself as much as possible in the current area or

2) Tends to hover or even become clingy

-After the first few times, his SO picks up on his behavior and tries to include him in the conversation or holds his hand while drawing patterns on his palm as reassurance.

K iss- Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

-Nagito is pretty hesitant at first when it comes to kisses.

-He’s so afraid that he doesn’t deserve you and feels as if he’d be dirtying you in some way at first.

-As for the first kiss, I believe that his SO would have to initiate it.

-This would be his first kiss as well, so he wouldn’t think he would be very experienced, but it’s a good thing luck is on his side because his kisses are always gentle and comforting

-The first few kisses you share are very soft, almost as if your lips are barely touching at all.

-After a while though, he realizes how addicted he is to his SO’s kisses and quickly becomes more comfortable

-He’ll never outright ask for a kiss, however you can usually tell when he wants one.

L ove Confession- How would they confess to their s/o?

- I believe after Nagito allows himself to love you, he would tell you right away

- He would wrap his arms around them and whisper to them about how in love he is with them and the hope that they emit

-You can feel just how fast his heart is beating as he confesses and how it speeds up when you tell him that you love him too

M arriage- Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

-Nagito has always wanted to get married, but I do believe he would be scared that his luck would get in the way

-It would take some time and a lot of heart-to-heart conversations, but he would eventually ask you to marry him.

-I believe he would propose to you on a pretty relaxed date while doing something you both enjoy

-When married, Nagito would be a stay at home husband because of his illness while his s/o would be at work or whatever they choose.

-Because of Nagito’s wealth, you don’t necessarily need to work if you don’t want to. However, he would be fully supportive of whatever his SO chooses to do.

N icknames- What do they call their s/o?

-You are 100% without a doubt “My Hope”

-Would also call you “Angel”, “My love”, or “My dear”.

O n Cloud Nine- What are they like when they are in love? How do they express their feelings?

-I believe that Nagito would definitely follow his SO and be kinda clingy

-When this boy is w h i p p e d for his SO he is going to follow them around like a puppy

-He also looks at his SO like they are the most precious thing in the world (because, well, to him they are)

-Nagito would be one to wrap his arms around his SO and whisper in their ear about how much they mean to him

-Please play with his hair when he does this

P DA- Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag about their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

-Oh 100% upfront about his relationship

-When talking to others, he will always find a way to talk about his SO and how wonderful they are with a lovestruck look gracing his features

-When it comes to physical PDA though, it takes a while for Nagito to get comfortable with the idea of it’s something you desire.

-After a while though, is almost always holding your hand or hugging you from behind

Q uirk- Some random ability they have that’s beneficial to the relationship

-Hmm so I believe that his luck combined with his knowledge of romance stories would be very beneficial.

-Nagito swears he knows nothing about relationships but this man is S M O O T H

- Nagito is 100% the guy that would have flowers delivered to your work because they reminded him of you

R omance- How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliche or rather creative?

-Like stated above, Nagito is a hopeless romantic who tends to be more on the cliche side.

-He would quite literally do anything to make his SO happy. Want chocolate and snuggles? Done. Can’t sleep and want to watch a movie? He’s there with your favorite blanket and snack.

S upport- Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

-Nagito would be supportive of his SO i’m just about anything they set themselves to achieve as long as it doesn’t harm them in some way.

-He will always be there to support and love you no matter what you set your mind to <3

T hrill- Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

-Leave Nagito’s luck to spice just about anything up. That being said, he prefers to plan things to be pretty simple in the beginning. Sometimes however, his luck can make your plans take quite the unexpected turn

-I believe he would like to have some sort of routine and stay on the calmer side though. Just enjoying being in the presence of his SO is already more than enough for him

U nderstanding- How well do they know their partner?

-Nagito is very good at reading people, his SO is no exception

-Nagito is able to read his SO like a book, and sometimes you’re convinced he knows you better than you know yourself

-He can pick up even the slightest hint of discomfort or unease that you may produce in .5 seconds

V alue- How important is the relationship to them?

-Your relationship means absolutely everything to Nagito. Not a day goes by when he doesn’t think of his SO

-It was his dream to someday be loved, and now that he’s got that, he’s going to hold onto it as best as he can

W ild card- A random fluff headcannon

-Nagito absolutely LOVES playing with his S/O’s hair. Whether he’s simply running his hands through it, or braiding it, he’ll always be content.

-He’s also very good at braiding hair, and if you ask him to braid it, he’ll be there in 10 seconds with a comb and a hair tie.

-He also loves his hair being played with. He’ll fall asleep the quickest with his head on your chest and your fingers running through his fluffy hair.

X OXO- How affectionate are they?

-Nagito is a very affectionate lover. You wouldn’t be able to go a day without knowing how much he loves and appreciates you.

-I personally believe that Nagito’s love language would be physical touch, so he would always want to be close to you any second you have the chance

Y earning- How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

-Nagito would be very down when missing his SO and I believe he would become even more withdrawn.

-He usually copes by reminiscing about time the two of you have shared and by looking at pictures you two have together

Z eal- Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship?

-I believe Nagito would do just about anything for his SO. As stated before, his relationship means just about everything to him so you’d better believe he’d be willing to go to great lengths for his SO.

-You are his ultimate hope after all <3

[12tardis]

That's My Jumper (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Warnings: s m u t under the cut

Requested: yes! Lovely anon asked for a part 2 to That’s My Shirt with some s m u t but not too explicit with lots of fluff. I REALLY hope this is okay! Pairing: Newt Scamander x Reader

Summary: The Part 2 to That’s My Shirt. You know Newt has a thing for you in his clothes so you decide to pull out the big guns. Enter Theseus who rudely interrupts you two, making a very cranky impatient Newt and unbeknownst to you Theseus sends Newt some inspiration in the form of a book. What happens when you find said book? Lots of flustered and shy Newt in the lead up

A/N: this is my first time writing s m u t so I’m scared and will probably hide away for a bit after this. I hope I haven’t tarnished Newt’s sweet image for anyone BUT CAN I JUST SAY- I reckon. Newt would ABSOLUTELY be a complete Hufflepuff in the bedroom: HARD-working , dedicated and patient. he would absolutely make you fall apart and then put you back together with so many tender cuddles and kisses you would just 💕 *chef kiss* Seriously though I’m S.C.A.R.E.D

Words: a whopping 5,522 (I’m tellin ya Newt doesn’t rush. But also the first like 3000 are fluff)

 It had been a couple of weeks since you’d discovered Newt’s fixation with you in his clothing. You’d learnt of this particular turn on of his when you’d worn one of his shirts to work and had come home to find a rather handsy riled up boyfriend.

 There had been a couple more heated make out sessions since then and a few lingering touches here and there but for the most part, everything remained the same despite your many attempts to engage Newt in some private time.

 To be completely fair though you had both been incredibly busy for the past few weeks. You were working extra hours in the shop to cover for an absent co-worker and Newt had been running himself ragged, tending to some rather high maintenance baby Niffler’s.

 Today finally marked a weekend that the two of you had nothing marked into your schedules, of course Newt still needed to tend to his creatures but at least you could help him. You woke to find that Newt had already risen before you and he was presumably in his case so you rolled out of bed, smiling to yourself when you spotted his favourite jumper discarded on his dresser.

 Newt walked into the kitchen where he could hear you tinkering around not long after, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head when he saw you. You were wearing one of his sweaters and nothing else. He swallowed thickly and stood frozen on the spot as he took in the way the soft knit just barely skimmed to your mid-thigh and you had rolled the sleeves up a dozen times so you could fix breakfast.

 You had let the jumper fall to one side, exposing one of your shoulders completely. “Merlin, help me,” he whispered to himself. You looked like absolute sin and he felt a hot flush spreading as his own shirt felt suddenly too tight around his neck.

 It was the way that you shimmied your hips along to the music you had playing that was the final straw for Newt. And he found himself crossing the kitchen in a few strides, gripping your hips from behind and pressing a series of kisses to your shoulder.

 You yelped in surprise, dropping your wand onto the counter as your hands flew up “Newt! You can’t sneak up on me like that!” you gasped but you leant back into him with a small hum of approval at the new found attention he was lavishing on you.

  Newt kissed his way up from your shoulder, along your neck and to your jaw “couldn’t help it,” he murmured into your ear before he spun you around in his arms, gripping your waist this time as he pressed his lips to yours in a heated kiss.

 You sighed against his lips softly as your hands found their way to his hair and you gave an experimental tug oh his auburn locks, shivering at the deep groan he emitted in response.

 “Newt!”, you gasped when he suddenly lifted you by the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up onto the kitchen counter and moving to stand between your legs before attacking your exposed neck and shoulder with open mouthed kisses, “you’re. wearing. my. jumper”, he grit out lowly between kisses before he grazed his teeth against one particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

 You couldn’t hold back your moan when you felt Newt nipping at your skin, tipping your head back against the kitchen cabinet behind you to give him better access to your neck. “Goodness, Newt”, you whimpered, knowing he was definitely leaving marks behind in his wake.

 Newt paused in his actions, looking up at you quickly when he heard your remark, his thumb rubbing in small circles on your waist “is this okay my angel?” he breathed, looking at you with big eyes.

 You took in the concern in his eyes, feeling nothing but love for the man in front of you seeing him go from needy and commanding to gentle and caring in a matter of seconds. It only fuelled your desire to know that he cared for your wellbeing and comfort so much. “Yes”, you managed to whisper before you tugged him forward by his suspenders, your lips crashing to his messily.

 Newt groaned into the kiss when you pried his lips open with your own and delved your tongue into his mouth. Before you knew it he had worked a hand underneath the fabric of the jumper and was caressing the soft skin of your back as his other hand fell to your knee. You whimpered quietly and arched into his touches, jerking back from the kiss when you heard the doorbell ring.

 “No no no just ignore it,” he breathed out, pressing his lips back to the marks on your neck that he’d just made and you melted back into his arms before the doorbell rang again. You pushed him back firmly with your hands on his chest, ignoring the whine of frustration he let out and twisting out of his arms “I need pants”, you giggled, racing from the room.

 Newt tried to catch you but you were too fast so he huffed to himself, stomping to the front door ready to give the intruder a piece of his mind for rudely interrupting. He flung the door open, running his mouth before he even stopped to think.

 “Theseus, what do you want?”

 Theseus raised his eyebrows as he looked back at his younger brother, taking a few moments to stare back at him dumbly because - did Newt really just use a rude tone with him? “Uh...yeah good to see you too, little brother”, Theseus murmured slowly.

 Newt scratched at the back of his neck and looked back at Theseus’ awkwardly when he realised how blunt he’d just been “sorry...I was just...a little preoccupied” he murmured, scrounging for his words as he stepped aside “do come in.”

 Theseus frowned at Newt’s cagey behaviour, taking in his dishevelled appearance, noticing his crinkled shirt and his hair that was tousled more than usual. He had at least a dozen questions but they all died on his lips when he spotted you wandering into the room, waving happily at him.

 Suddenly everything clicked into place as his eyes honed in on the obvious love bites decorating your neck. Your hair was tousled too and was that Newt’s jumper you were wearing?

 “Ohhhhhhhhh I seeeeee,” Theseus crooned, looking back at his brother with a wide grin and wiggling his eyebrows obnoxiously.

Newt immediately went rigid, standing a little taller because he knew that tone was never a good one. “What? What do you see?” he sighed, his patience once again wearing thin.

 “I’m interrupting your INTIMATE time”, Theseus whispered with a shit eating grin when Newt flushed darkly and began to shake his head violently “no I- we haven’t...you have the wrong idea!” he sputtered and Theseus raised an eyebrow in response “what? You haven’t?” he said with a scandalised expression.

 Newt huffed in embarrassment, only growing more flustered “Theseus, shut up or I swear I will hex y-“, he immediately shut his mouth when you sauntered over to them obliviously, hugging Theseus warmly in greeting before you curled your arm around Newt’s waist. “Theseus! I’m so happy to see you. I was just starting to prepare breakfast, won’t you join us?”

 And Theseus looked back at you with a bright smile, nodding quickly as he shrugged his coat off “Yes, I think I will.” he said before he tossed the coat at Newt, chuckling quietly at the scowl he sent back at him. “I hope I’m not intruding on you two lovebirds”, he added with a wink in Newt’s direction.

                                 *     *     *     *     *     *

Newt legged it to the bedroom when he heard your loud shriek a few hours later, looking at you frantically and letting out a deep breath when he saw you standing in front of the mirror.

 “NEWT you didn’t tell me I had all these hickeys on display all through breakfast!” you cried, tracing your fingertips over the marks.

 Newt let out a sigh, smiling crookedly as he wound his arms around you from behind again, hooking his chin over your shoulder and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “If it makes you feel better, I’ve seen Theseus littered with them plenty of times before?” he offered in a lame attempt to quell your embarrassment.

 “Gee thanks that’s makes it all better, Newt”, you scoffed as you rolled your eyes but you couldn’t stay angry long when he was looking back at you with his puppy dog eyes. “You’re going to be the death of me Newton Scamander,” you sighed with a fond smile, turning around in his arms and tucking your face into his neck. 

 And then it was Newt’s turn to be humiliated the next day when Theseus’ owl dropped a parcel for him and he opened it to find a rather well known erotic novel. Newt gasped and quickly tucked it away, double checking he was alone before he peeked into the cover seeing his brother had inscribed it to him.

 Newt,

 This book basically taught me everything I know. Use it wisely.

And you’re welcome.

 -T.S

 Newt stared at the inscription for a few minutes, peeking over his shoulder before he curiously flicked through the book, his cheeks turning beet red and his eyes widening. “Merlin, no” he breathed, quickly stashing the book away thanking the stars that you were at work.                                   *     *    *     *     *     *

A few days later you wandered into Newt’s study where he was hunched over scribbling away in his journal. It was obvious he’d been working hard all day. “Honey, did you remember to eat today?”, you sighed, coming up behind him and gently running your fingers through his hair as you curled your other arm around his shoulders. You already knew the answer because you could see he hadn’t touched any of the food in the pantry or the fridge.

 Newt smiled immediately when he heard you, leaning back into your arms and peering up at you “oh I’m sorry, love. I didn’t even hear you get in,” he said, quickly getting to his feet, taking your hands into his own and smiling apologetically at you “I got a little carried away writing. How was your day?” He gently cupped your cheek in his palm before he made to move towards the kitchen “let me fix you some tea.”

 “Get back here”, you laughed as you caught him by the back of his shirt, tugging him back towards you where you spun him around to face you and curled both of your arms around his neck “where’s my kisses?” you pouted slightly up at him.

 Newt let out a noise of surprise when you hoisted him back, looking down at you with an adoring smile at your expression “oh how rude of me”, he grinned, leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle and tender kiss, his hands framing your waist.

 You let out a happy hum against his lips, breaking apart from him for air eventually and pressing a few kisses down the line of his jaw as you took his hands again. You tipped your head aside when you felt his lips brushing against the fading marks on your neck “Wait what is that?”

 You reached behind him, plucking the book Theseus had sent from the bookcase “goodness when did you get this?” and Newt felt his stomach drop and he blushed a deep pink “it’s not mine!” He barked, snatching the book from you quickly “Theseus sent it- I didn’t ask him to! He said- well he said it was a good place for me to learn. I swear to you I-I didn’t buy it!” He stammered, looking back at you desperately as he opened the book to show you Theseus’ handwriting.

 “Newt honey relax. Breathe!”, you cut in when you saw how worked up he was getting, cupping his face firmly in your hands and looking him in the eyes “My love I’m not upset. I believe you, it seems exactly the sort of thing your brother would do,” you said rolling your eyes fondly.

 “But even if you did buy it yourself I wouldn’t be angry.”

 Newt looked back at you with wide eyes, feeling a flood of relief to know you weren’t upset with him “you’re not angry?” He repeated, looking at you still somewhat anxiously and you couldn’t help but smile at how adorably flustered he was “no of course not. I know we’re learning a lot of new things together and I want you to be comfortable so if reading this“, you took the book from his hand and held up up between you both “helps you feel confident then I’m completely on board.”

 Newt bit his lip when you pried the book from his grasp, shaking his head and taking it back from you “even so, it’s not mine and I’m not taking any advice from my brother,” he turned around to shove the book into his desk drawer but he realised his mistake when you spotted the other book he had stashed away there. The book he actually had been studying.

 You snatched the book up, your mouth dropping open when you realised it was a muggle book on human arousal and anatomy and now it was your turn to grow flustered. “W-What’s this one?”, you squeaked out.

 Newt quickly took the book and set it down on his desk, taking your hands in his own as yet another blush flooded his cheeks “well, when Theseus did send me that book I couldn’t help but think doing a little research- some proper research wouldn’t hurt” he explained slowly, watching you closely and noting the way your eyes had darkened ever so slightly.

 “I wanted to know how to make you feel good, to know how to make you comfortable and to make sure you enjoy our time together. So I got this from a muggle store a few days ago,” he murmured, looking back at you shyly now because you were staring at him with a new intensity.

 You bit down on your lip hard as you grappled with the fact that your sweet, caring and innocent boyfriend had gone out of his way to buy such a book. In a public setting at that! And all for your benefit. You couldn’t deny the heat that was growing in your stomach, imagining Newt studying the book while you were at work.

“Did you...have you read a lot?”, you asked eventually.

 And Newt smiled sheepishly back at you, nodding slowly as he scratched at the back of his neck, willing the ground to swallow him whole now. “Y/N it’s not...I love you. And I love our time together, and I only ever want you to be comfortable. And if we’re never ready to take anything further then that’s completely fine with me. I can die happy just getting to spend my days with you,” he said honestly, beginning to ramble on nervously again.

 “I just-I thought perhaps over the past few weeks that we were headed in that direction. I’m so sorry if I had the wrong idea. I would never ever push you to do anything you didn’t want to do I w-“

 You cut him off with a gentle kiss, gripping him by his shirt collar and pulling back with coy smile “Relax, my love,” you murmured, tangling your fingers in his hair and scratching at his scalp like you knew always calmed him down “we are most definitely headed in that direction.”

                         *     *     *     *     *     *

You could tell Newt was reluctant to touch you or kiss you anything beyond short and sweet over the next few days, obviously still nervous he had overstepped his boundaries. You weren’t sure how many different ways you could tell him you weren’t upset with him.

 You had been trying coax him along, attempting to deepen your kisses each time he would actually touch you but you were left increasingly frustrated when he would pull away from you, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple before he would retreat into his case. You were going to have to persuade him another way.

 Newt was sat in his study, reading over his notes but his mind was fixated on you. He felt guilty because it was the weekend and he should have been spending quality time with you but he was too ashamed to even be around you after that episode a few days ago. He loved and cherished you more than you could ever know and he was angry with himself thinking he may have lead you to feel uncomfortable.

 Of course all he had to do was actually listen to a word you had said to him, but he was too busy being caught up in his own mind like he always was when it came to you. He had just built the resolve to go and talk to you and apologise properly as he pushed back from his desk and turned to the door. But his mind went completely blank when he saw you.

 You’d been standing in the doorway behind him for some time now, wearing his shirt. The same shirt that had started this whole thing all those weeks ago but this time you wore the shirt with nothing else but your lingerie. You were fidgeting with the cuffs self-consciously as you debated running away and ditching your plan altogether but when you saw the ravenous expression on Newt’s face you felt your confidence build.

 “Y/N”, he choked out as you slowly sauntered over to him and he was gaping at you, not quite knowing where to look as he took you in. His palms were itching to touch you as he took in the way the hem of the shirt grazed the top of your thighs and he felt his mouth run dry as his eyes trailed down from your face to your chest, seeing how you’d left most of the buttons undone, allowing him to see the most tantalising strip of skin. He was definitely sweating now.

 His reactions only spurred you on and you gripped his shoulders as you slowly straddled him on his chair, sucking in a breath when you noticed how dark his eyes had turned.

“Y/N...Merlin my darling you look absolutely incredible. Are you trying to kill me?” he breathed, his hands coming to rest on your hips and you realised he was obviously trying not to stare at your body and holding himself back from touching you like he really wanted to. That wouldn’t do.

  You took his hands in your own, pushing down your own nerves as you pressed your lips to his in a heated kiss, guiding his hands up to your breasts. Newt groaned against your lips, cupping your breasts firmly in his large hands, a shiver running down his spine when you moaned in response and arched into him.

 Newt was quick to take the opportunity to delve his tongue into your mouth, his tongue brushing with yours. And when you broke apart from him for air he tucked his face to your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses along your skin, nipping at your flesh before he soothed his tongue over the same spot. “Newt”, you gasped out, gripping his shoulders tightly.

 Newt closed his eyes tightly as he skimmed one hand down to rest on your thigh, his fingertips teasing at your inner thigh “tell me what you want, Y/N” he murmured eventually, his voice deep and rumbling in his chest only causing you to feel even more worked up. “I need to hear your words, angel” he said right into your ear when you still didn’t answer him.

 You gripped his shoulders tightly as you let out a quiet whimper at his tone. Your heart was racing wildly in your chest as you felt simultaneously shy and turned on all at once. You forced yourself to look at him despite how shy you suddenly felt “I want you...to show me what you learnt from that book”, you said, rocking your hips down against his experimentally and biting back a moan when you felt his tell-tale hardness against you through his pants.

 Newt gritted his teeth from the pleasure that rippled through him, gripping your hips firmly in his hands to still you. He didn’t allow himself to get carried away just yet as he fixed you with a serious expression. “Darling girl, are you sure? You know your comfort is all that matters to me. I will wait my whole life if I need to”, he murmured, pushing his arousal aside for the time being to make sure you were entirely confident in your decision.

 “I’m sure Newt. I’ve been sure all week but you would barely look at me,” you sighed, moving to wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your forehead to his “I love you and I know I’m always safe in your hands. If you’re comfortable, I want you to show me all the new things you’ve learnt.”

 Newt nodded and cupped your cheek gently, looking back at you “I love you. So very much.”, he whispered before he stood up, hoisting you up in his arms by the backs of your thighs in one fluid motion, the mood immediately shifting back to one of passion and lust.

 He carried you through the flat easily, shoving the bedroom door open and then laying you down on the bed, wasting no time in lowering himself over you, pinning you down and looking at you with the same ravenous expression from earlier “you have no idea how utterly sinful you look right now”, he breathed out as he slowly skimmed his hands down your waist to your thighs again.

 He captured your lips in a deep kiss, rolling his hips down against yours with a low groan as he gripped the hem of your shirt, breaking the kiss to look up at you in question “angel, do you want to keep this on?” he practically purred out, nipping at your earlobe as he tugged at the fabric of the hem teasingly.

 You gasped when you felt his teeth against you, your hips bucking up on their own accord, drawing another groan from him “k-keep it on. But...but keep going” you stuttered, parting your legs for him as you felt the heat building between them.

 Newt nodded and began to trail kisses down your neck and down the valley of your breasts, stopping occasionally as he muttered sweet words at you “so gorgeous for me...so beautiful and stunning. Can you feel what you do to me?” he murmured, rocking his hips against yours, grinding his hard bulge against your mound, relishing the noises of pleasure you made in response.

 You had to admit you were taken aback by how vocal and chatty he was being but you couldn’t get enough of it, knowing you could work yourself up into a frenzy just listening to him talk. He was busy peppering your bra clad cleavage with kisses as he slowly trailed a hand up under the hem of the shirt, his fingertips barely brushing the edge of your panties before he paused to peer up at you again “May I?”

 Your lips parted with a small gasp as you felt his hand slip between your legs and you nodded quickly, looking down at him desperately when he didn’t move his hand any further “angel, I need to hear you”, he repeated his sentiment from earlier but this time much firmer, causing you to bite your lip and whimper quietly.

 “Yes Newt, please touch me,” you felt your cheeks warm at your wanton tone but Newt simply pressed another set of kisses down your throat as he cupped your warm mound over your panties in one swift movement, his cock jerking in his slacks at the wetness he felt on his palm.

 You let out another gasp as you arched your hips up into his touch, tugging him up by his shirt and kissing him deeply. Newt felt like a man possessed with every beautiful noise you let out and he kissed you back eagerly as he began to rub over your mound slowly but firmly, his fingertips teasing at the edge of your panties with each pass.

 He paused again when his fingertips found their way into the top band of your panties and you nodded wildly before he could question you again “Yes Newt please!”, your pleading turning into a breathy moan when he slipped his hand into your panties quickly, rubbing his fingers over your wet slit as he sucked at the sensitive skin of your neck.

 His hand delved lower between your thighs until his long pointer finger was running over your entrance and he used his thumb to rub at the small nub between your folds experimentally, pleased with himself when you cried out and jerked against him in pleasure “Merlin, Newt! Do that again”

 He hummed against your shoulder in concentration as he worked on repeating the same motion, rubbing you clit in small circles while focusing on each and every sound you were making, making a mental note of what you enjoyed.

 “You’re so beautiful my angel”, Newt murmured, looking up at you and trying to commit your expression of pleasure to his memory. He was truly a man possessed now as he dedicated himself to drawing those incredible sounds from you, skimming his other hand up and down your body slowly, noting every single area of sensitive skin that had you gasping or arching into his touch.

 “Do you want my mouth on you, darling?”

 You looked back at him with big eyes, swallowing thickly “I don’t...know what you mean”

 Newt smiled against your shoulder, propping himself up on his elbows to gaze down at you “I’ll show you but remember. You’re in control here my love”, he murmured seriously, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips “you’re the one in control here. Anything you don’t like, or even not sure about- you tell me and I’ll stop okay?”

 He waited for your affirmation before he began to trail kisses down your body, looking up at you when his face was finally nestled between your legs and he held your gaze as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh causing you to shiver, your hands bunching into the sheets below you in anticipation.

 Newt kissed over your thighs, sucking a few little marks to your soft skin as he hooked his fingers in the waist band of your panties, slowly peeling them down and off of you, letting out a breath at the sight of your wet slit. “Y/N, you are perfect”, he whispered, reaching up to take one of your hands, threading his fingers with yours as he slowly lowered his mouth to your pulsing mound, licking a broad stripe up your centre and closing his eyes when you bucked your hips in response.

 “NEWT!”, you were panting now as you gripped his hand in your own, your other hand flying to weave into his hair on its own accord and you cried out when he hummed against you in response.

 He used his tongue to stimulate your throbbing clit as he slowly sunk a finger inside you, his mouth dropping open at the feeling of your velvet walls accommodating him, your muscles clamping down on his one digit. “Y/N,” he whispered, grinding his own hips into the bed while you threw your head back in pleasure, feeling completely overwhelmed from the pleasure your boyfriend was bringing you.

 “Baby, tell me how that feels?” he looked up at you as he crooked the finger inside of you, taking in the way you gasped and whined when he rubbed over a particular spot inside you. You were too far gone in your pleasure to string a coherent sentence together so he relied on your little gasps and moans to make sure you were enjoying what he was doing.

 He carefully worked a second finger inside you, completely entranced watching you accommodate the extra intrusion. And once both fingers were buried inside you he sealed his lips around your clit, sucking and then groaning loudly against you when you tugged on his hair in response, rolling your hips up against him

 “Newt, oh my stars Newt!”

 He continued to work thrust his fingers inside of you, making sure to pass over that spot on each stroke and when he thought you were close to your release he moved back up your body. He tucked his face of your shoulder, pressing kiss after kiss to your delicate skin, holding you close against him as he worked his fingers even faster and deeper inside of you, his thumb rubbing at your clit in tight circles.

 “Let go for me, angel. Let yourself go”, he murmured lowly into your ear, watching you in rapt concentration as you tensed up not a moment later, crying out loudly as you clenched around his fingers rhythmically. “That’s it, darling girl. Just like that.”

 Newt skimmed his lips over your love bites as he rubbed you through your release, carefully working his fingers free and holding you close, his hands soothing over your back as you worked through the aftershocks.

 He pressed kiss after kiss to your head, once again murmuring sweet nothings to you and you melted in his arms, your body going completely lax.

 “Oh, darling you don’t have to”, he murmured, gripping your wrist when you worked your hand down his body.

 “But I want to Newt, I wanna make you feel good too,” you said honestly as you continued to trail your hand down to the button of his pants.

 Newt shook his head, taking your hand and lifting it to his mouth to brush his lips over it “this was about you, angel,” he murmured, smiling sheepishly at you a moment later “besides I already...uh...”, he trailed off with a blush, cringing slightly at the sticky sensation he now noticed in his pants.

 “You...oh!”, you breathed with wide eyes when you finally understood what he’d meant, pressing your lips to his in a soft and reassuring kiss, a little flattered by the notion anyway. “Well, I’d like to read that book of yours. So I can know how to make you feel good.”

 Newt blushed even more at the images that he conjured up then, pressing another series of gentle kisses to your jaw “I somehow think you won’t be needing it,” he smiled, holding his hands up at the look you shot him in response “okay okay if it will make you happy then of course! I’m just saying you always make me feel good anyway,” he murmured as he slowly sat up to go and clean himself up.

 You sat up with him, cupping his cheek in your palm as you looked back at him lovingly “that was incredible. You were incredible. I’ve never felt so much...so good before,” and you smiled adoringly when he smiled widely back at you in pride, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips “I love you”, he murmured as he got up to his feet and headed for the bathroom.

 You watched him wander off, laying back on the bed with a blissed out smile “you should you know?” you called out after him.

 And Newt glanced back over his shoulder at you in confusion before he stepped into the en-suite “should what?”

 “You should thank your brother!”, you shouted to him, giggling at the noise of shock he let out in response.

 “I will do no such thing! He is to know nothing about any of this. Ever”, he muttered and he was back your side on a flash, clambering back into the bed and wrapping his arms around you, tugging the blankets up around you both before he relaxed.

 “He is the one that got you this shirt though”, you teased after a moment, giggling again at the dark expression that crossed Newt’s face.

 “Y/N! I don’t want to hear you mention my brother again in our bed.” he huffed out, scowling at you when you continued to laugh.

 “You’re just so cute when you’re jealous”, you cooed, skimming your fingertips through his hair soothingly.

 “I’m NOT jealous. I’m just territorial.” he said simply as he skimmed his thumb over some of the marks he’d made on your neck. And he smiled when it was your turn to grow flustered.

 “I mean that in the sense that you are my pride and my heart- not an item to be owned,” he murmured and you looked back at him, shaking your head as your felt your heart somehow fill with even more love for this man that never seemed to stop taking your breath away. PLEASE SEND ME REQUESTS! 

 -MASTERLIST HERE- 

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I understand, Treat. Thank you for giving a brief summary of it, anyways. I really appreciate it and I thought it was cute, regardless/gen

Hmmm.....what about headcanons about general dates with Kagehara? It's practically a given you two watch Danganronpa and cuddle together, but what else? 🤔

.......I don't know why I just realized this but you only ask for Kagehara. I must be going blind I swear.

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Kagehara General Date Headcanons

- Café dates (so long as he can sit in the back with you) are just another one of the things he'll be able to deal with the more times it happens (he still gets nervous in a half full restaurant so make of it what you will)

- Being comfortable enough to make dinner reservations happens much later on in your relationship

- He will sometimes bring over stacks of his manga just to read with you/to you (as well as his detective novels)

- He's not exactly good at planning dates at first, as that comes with time, so he's more likely to just stick with whatever you're wanting to do regardless of his discomfort

- He'd literally just trail beside you with his cap covering most of his face, clutching onto the side of your shirt

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"Are you sure you're comfortable with being here?"

"If y-you are then I can m-make an exception..."

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- It'd honestly be better to drag him to an animal shelter to let puppies attack him with affection

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"Why are we here...?"

"Ok, you can let them into the room now!"

"What? Who?"

*small group of puppies enter the room and trot/run right up to him*

"Aren't they cute?"

"Can we keep them?"

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- While being in crowded spaces bother him a lot, he'll still follow you around the mall as long as you're holding his hand and he can keep his head down

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"Need a break?"

"I-I'll be fine.."

"I think they sell Danganronpa merch in the next store-"

"...You p-planned this didn't you?"

"Mhm."

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- He feels more at ease in more secluded areas in the middle of the day (parks, library, ect.) he wouldn't want you to be out at night with him (he knows just how unpleasant it can be at night time, the boy has been jumped by classmates before)

- Honestly he'd prefer to just stay home and do an activity together, teaching him how to cook would be a good place to start

- Big events such as festivals are on the list, but he'd have a firm grip on you the entire time, as if you might get swept off into the crowd