#edit: fixed the colors because all that red was bothering me!

[chaoticnebu]

anet knew well what they were doing when they unleashed Peitha into the world

Commander Seluna for one is not immune to the big demon lady 💖

bonus:

[femininemenon]

Hii! Sorry to bother you, but I just saw your post about that one GoT scene with "camera raw filter" and *have* to ask...what is that?! That looks insanely good. I tried doing a quick google search, and it seems like it's a Photoshop pluggin, maybe? I'm not too sure... Would you mind sharing a bit more about it, pretty please?

the post anon is referring to:

this is by no means an adequate guide or even a comprehensible explanation, but i hope it helps out somewhat.

you are correct, camera raw filter is a photoshop plugin. you can download it from here (works with 🏴‍☠️d/portable versions too): the installation is pretty straight forward, just do it as you would with any program.

before you do anything, make sure your screencaps are a smart object (it will obviously be faster if you add a camera raw filter after you've resized and added whatever it is you need to add, but you can always just do it with the original sized screencaps). it's easier to edit the properties from a smart object than to go back and try to get it right again from scratch.

you will find it under filter > camera raw filter… this will bring up a new window:

you can add as many of them as you need to. if you want to edit it because you think you've made it too bright or too blue or something, just double click on camera raw filter under your smart object:

if you're editing one scene and you would like for everything to look uniform, you can also just bring over your settings because they're smart objects:

okay enough yapping, back to what you came here for. let's go through all that i use/have used and how they work. you can mix and match them however you want - what works for one scene might not work for another.

the 'Light' section you can use to fix the light of the scene but i basically only use it if i want to "strengthen"/darken the whites and highlights. if your files are too dark or lack contrast, you can fix that here.

the 'Color' section!!! chef's kiss. this is what i used for the Sansa screencap. first you need to think about whether your screencap is too yellow or too blue, and then slide it towards the opposite direction. after i did that, it was way too green, so i used the tint feature to help out with that.

if you have handled today's media, you know that they haaaate color. so still in 'Color', in vibrance/saturation (i have never worked out the difference and atp i don't really care asdfghjkl) you can adjust that as well but it's for all the colors of the rainbow. you can enhance colors better in 'Caliberation' (see below).

i don't really use 'Effects', but the Vignette feature is a lifesaver if you encounter those. an example:

i have never touched 'Curve' but i image it works just like curves.

'Color Mixer' is good to manipulate colors. it's basically hue/saturation but lowkey better. if you switch to 'Color' in Adjust, you can edit them more accurately (Capcut has a feature similar to this i think).

ngl i don't have a good example of this now so enjoy this cartoonish something:

and we have arrived at my favorite!!! with 'Color Grading', you can fix almost anything: Midtones, Shadows and Highlights. it's basically a color wheel and you can try to find the black midtone and white points that will neutralize your screencaps. you can be more accurate with them if you click the circles in Adjust. basically a more freestyle curves i think.

lastly, 'Calibration'. you can also enhance or diminish colors here based on whether they belong in the red, green or blue primary. eg if you have a scene that's way too yellow, you can try and bring down the saturation in Blue Primary and it will help tremendously.

if you have any further questions, feel free to send me another ask!

[indestinatus]

The silent art of gif making

The gif above has 32 layers plus 6 that aren't shown because this is part of a larger edit. I wanted to share it to give everyone a glimpse of the art of gif making and how long it usually takes for me to make something like this. This one took me about an hour and a half but only because I couldn't get the shade of blue right.

I use Adobe Photoshop 2021 and my computer doesn't have a large memory space (I don't know what to call it) so usually most of psds get deleted because I'm too lazy to get a hard drive. It doesn't really bother me that much because I like the art so when it's done, it's done. Off to somewhere else it goes.

Here are the layers:

Everything is neat and organized in folders because I like it that way. I prefer to edit it in timeline but others edit each frame. There's a layer not shown (Layer 4 is not visible) and it's the vector art. Here it is:

Now it is visible. I don't plan to make this a tutorial, but if you're interested I'd love to share a few tricks about it. I'm pretty new to the colors in gifmaking but the rest is simple to understand. Here, I just want to show how much work it takes to make it.

I opened Group 2 and here's the base gif. I already sharpened and sized it correctly but that's about it. Let's open the base coloring next.

Yay! Now it looks pretty! The edits are in Portuguese but it doesn't matter. There's a silent art of adding layers depending on how you want the gif to look but you get used to it. The order matters and you can add multiple layers of the same thing (for eg. multiple layers of levels or curves or exposure).

This was pretty much my first experiment with coloring so I don't know what I'm doing (this happens a lot with any art form but gifmaking exceeds in DIYing your way to the finished product) but I didn't want to mess up his hair, that's why the blue color is like that. Blue is easy to work with because there's little on the skin (different from red and yellow but that's color theory). I painted the layers like that and put it on screen, now let's correct how the rest looks.

I was stuck trying to get the right teal shade of blue so yes, those are 10 layers of selective color mostly on cyan blue. We fixed his hair (yay!) we could've probably fixed the blue on his neck too but I was lazy. This is close to what I wanted so let's roll with that.

BUT I wanted his freckles to show, so let's edit a little bit more. Now his hair is more vibrant and his skin has red tones, which accentuates the blues and his eyes (exactly what I wanted!). That lost Layer 2 was me trying to fix some shadows in the background but in the end, it didn't make such a difference.

This was part of an edit, so let's add the graphics and also edit them so they're the right shade of blue and the correct size. A few gradient maps and a dozen font tests later, it appears to be done! Here it is:

Please reblog gifsets on tumblr. We gifmakers really enjoy doing what we do (otherwise we wouldn't be here) but it takes so long, you wouldn't imagine. Tumblr is the main website used for gif making and honestly, we have nowhere to go but share our art here. This was only to show how long it takes but if you're new and want to get into the art of gif making, there are a lot of really cool resource blogs in here. And my ask box is always open! Sending gifmakers all my love.

[miasmaghoul]

oh bitch.

human au. dew/aether.

wedding edition. you know the one >:)

Like I could POSSIBLY do this justice in three lines

"So," Aether says, sidling up to the bar, "you come here often?"

It's a ridiculous line and he knows it, and clearly the guy he's been watching all night and finally chosen to approach agrees. He pauses with his drink halfway to his mouth and gives Aether a sideways glance. Aether doesn't mind, fixing him with a winning smile and delighting in the fact that he's even more attractive up close. It's clearly infectious, because the guy gives him an amused snort.

"Oh yeah," he replies, in a voice raspier than Aether expected from someone so...well, pretty. "Huge fan of hangin' out at weddings that don't even have a fuckin' open bar." He holds up his glass. "$12 for watered down whiskey," he laments as he swigs back the last of the drink. "Fuckin' deplorable."

"I hear you," Aether says, holding up his beer. "Apparently the bride has a thing about people passing out in the floral arrangements."

"Figures," the guy snorts, tucking a lock of gorgeous golden hair behind his ear. It's pierced, Aether notices. More that once. "That side of the family likes to think they're special."

"Oh?" Aether tips his head, resting an elbow on the bar and crossing his ankles. "You're related?"

"Cousin of a cousin," he says with a shrug, turning to mirror Aether's position. Fuck, he's handsome, with strong features and sparkling blue eyes. "I wasn't gonna bother, but I got an invite and my pants were already ironed."

Aether glances down at his crisp slacks, catching a glimpse of a bright red sock when the guy moves his foot. The only pop of color in his otherwise stark black outfit. It suits him, Aether thinks.

"That's fair," he concedes, necking the rest of his beer and setting the bottle next to the empty glass still on the bar. "I'm a pity date, myself."

Aether gestures towards the far side of the small banquet hall, towards a sad-looking girl that's pouting in the general direction of the groom. The guy winces.

"Oof," he chuckles, "that doesn't look great."

"Could be worse," Aether comments, not sounding put out in the slightest. He rests his chin on his palm with a playful smirk. "If nothing else it gives me a reason to meet handsome strangers at the bar." He gives the guy a wink, and Aether delights in the huff of laughter it earns him.

"Careful," he warns, reaching out to casually brush something off Aether’s shirt, "you keep talkin' like that and I'm gonna have to ask you to dance."

Aether grins.

"Only if you promise to dip me."

[toni-kirkwood99]

This is my first ever post on here. That's mine, so talk to me nice, please🥹🫶🏿💯. I've never done warnings before, so if I miss something, please let me know! I'll have to figure out how to fix it and edit this post. I've never done that before either...😅

⚠️WARNINGS ⚠️

Mentions of pussy eating, reader has female anatomy, pussy eating, begging brat reader, daydream fuck, vaginally sex, passionate sex, oral fem receiving, mention of bunny and hun bun for a nickname (no pet play tho), daddy nicknames for him, breading, vaginal creampie, squirting, cow-girl, mating press, suggestive sex at the end, Choking (slightly and gently), use of colors for safe words, brat reader, chaotic switch reader (mostly pillow princess but a switch), soft dom switch male, mostly a wholesome situation turned into a wet daydream honestly lol, healthy strong relationship✅️, fluff but NSFW 🔞, ageless blogs will be blocked, No Minors Please🙏🏾💯

⚠️END WARNINGS⚠️

Reader POV*

*We just came inside from hammocking because it started raining, and you didn't want us to get sick*

You ask me if I'd like hot Cocoa. To which I replied yes. I'd never turn down a good cup of Cocoa.

We just had a very intimate yet innocent quality time together. But as you make our drinks, I can't help but let my eyes drift. Let them wander over every expanding and contracting muscle. While you do something as simple as making 2 cups of hot cocoa, it stirs something up inside me.

I sit at the island stool across from you and run my fingertips across the countertop and imagine all the sweet yet nasty things you could do to my body.

I envision you looking up at me like a lion, thirsty, ready to drink from the watering hole for the first time in days. The same way you'd look at me, thirsty ready to taste what's between my meaty thighs that you so gently caressed, kneaded, and rubbed outside on the hammock. With nothing but love and care, but I can't help that my mind takes me to far away places, dirty places.

Places where you have me underneath you (after making me cum with your mouth because you're a gentleman And oh so gentle with me)

*wet dream while you make Hot Cocoa*

You grab me by my thighs and pull me to the edge of the bed. Before you even truly start anything after the amazing earth shattering head you gave me and the two back to back orgasms.

You say, “if at any point you want to stop, tell me. I'll always ask you what color you are throughout the whole experience. If you want me to stop, say red, slow down is yellow, and keep going is green. Got it baby?”

I'm so hot and bothered I respond a bit more rude than I meant to, “I know I know. Just fuck me already! I want you so bad.”

You just smile and laugh through your nose at my impatience. For that you decided to tease me a bit more. You caress my face and lean down to kiss me softly and slowly. I melt into the kiss. Even more when you line your tip up with my clit and start rubbing your sex in my slick and moaning into the kiss.

At this point I'm already soaked so this does wonders for you, but it isn't enough friction for me. I start whining and it's like music to your ears for a few minutes. You wait patiently as you continue for your favorite part. Making me beg.

I whine, “baby ‘tis feels good but I want more."

You pull away and smile at me, “you know the magic word that would give you everything you want right now baby, you just gotta say it and talk to me nice hun bun.”

I melt at the nickname. You could call me anything, and it would make me weak in the knees. Because it's you. I blush and get a bit embarrassed. You caress my cheeks and give me another kiss for encouragement and slow down your grinding. To an agonizingly slow pace for me but a delicious one for you.

“Can you please make love to me babe, I want you so bad, please?” I ask sweetly.

You smile a sweet prideful smile and say, “of course baby, your wish is my command.”

With that you kiss down my body one last time. Kiss lick and suck my clit and make sure I'm wet enough to take you (which I am beyond wet enough lol). You come back up and kiss me long and passionately.

You ask, “color?” and I reply “green” with a loving smile.

You smile back and line your tip up with my entrance. You ask once more just to make sure but my answer remains unchanged.

You push in slowly and watch as my eyes get lower and I start to whine and rotate my hips a bit at the stretch of you.

You ask again, “color hun bun”

To which I replied “still green baby~ it feels so good~”

As I reach out both of my hands for yours and you gladly take them. Interlocking them.

“You feel amazing, bunny. I can't wait to be all the wa-” you groan.

My coochie slowly sucks you in the rest of the way. Slurping you up in my sticky wet heat; like a hot babe at the beach would throat a popsicle on a hot summer's day.

You instantly grab my throat and ask for a color as you apply the perfect amount of pressure that you know I like.

“still green baby~” I say as you keep the pressure I like on my throat and notice again how my pussy squeezes a bit tighter when you squeeze a little tighter.

You love how nasty I can be. It turns you on so much. You do a few experimental rolls of your hip and I am keening for you.

You say, “baby i'm gonna go fast, but if you need me to slow down let me know okay?”

And I melt. You always prioritize me and my wants and needs over your own. It makes me feel so safe and loved. This intimacy is how I repay you. By showing you just how much I trust you with my body. How much I care for you with this dance we do every night.

“I don't need to, you always take care of me, you're my sexy amazing daddy and future baby daddy after all~.” I say it with the utmost confidence. And with a knowing smirk.

Knowing that talking like that gets you going and places one thing on your mind on repeat. This is your pussy forever, and since it's yours you're gonna claim it. Breed me if I ask for it. Cause you'd give me the world on a silver platter if you could.

You look me deep in my eyes with love and lust, “baby can I cum inside you tonight? You know when you talk like that all I wanna do is breed my pussy.”

And If I were on my hands and knees like I normally would be, my knees would have buckled. But I'm on my back in a mating press, nose to nose with my soulmate.

I airily say, “take me, and breed me, I'm all yours, future baby daddy~” and that's what makes you snap.

You piston your hip in my dripping heat and grip my thighs to keep me from moving around too much from the force of your hips rutting into mine.

Your big breeder balls are slapping against my ass as you pound into me with one thing on your mind.

Breed breed breed.

I moan your name loudly, your given name and a string of nicknames that make your heart melt.

Even in your breeder frenzy you still ask, “color, baby?! What color?”

And I respond lustfully, even with my cloudy mushy fucked out brain, “So good baby~ it's so… soooo good~ I'm… I’m green~ green~.”

You smile at the fact that you've barely started and I’m already a fucked out mess. Dripping all over your cock and squeezing like a vice from time to time because of the deliciously hard fluid strokes you're giving me. Kissing my cervix deliciously without fail with every stroke.

You move your hand from my throat up to my jawline. Using your thumb to brush against my lips. I stick out my tongue and give it a kitten lick. You push your thumb in my mouth, and I suck it. You groan at my obedience. Even when my brain is mush. I'm still your good girl. To reward me, you place your hand back in my throat and squeeze the way I like, and I moan your name like a prayer. A mantra if you will.

You notice when my eyes roll back and I drool a bit. My pussy, your pussy, starts to convulse. So you press down on my lower stomach so I can feel you deeper. That's what makes me scream your name as I cum.

You smile with pride as I come undone on your cock. Even more so as you pound me through my first orgasm into my second and make me scream your name as I squirt all over your cock for the umpteenth time. But each time you count them. Every. Single. One. This is number 28, you want to hit 30 by the end of tonight at least. But I don't know about that little game you play in your head. Keeping score because you want to make sure you're actually pleasing me (so much better and unlike the men from my past).

You slow down to try to be gentle with me, knowing how sensitive I get after squirting.

I whine with a hint of mischief in my tone. “Come here, please, baby~ kiss~?” I ask so sweetly, how could you say no?

You leaned down to kiss me sweetly but I licked your bottom lip, and in your shocked state I slipped my tongue in. I make out with you.

You were pleasantly surprised. Your submissive pillow princess was ever so bold tonight. You couldn't be more proud and turned on if you tried.

When I break away I whisper in your ear, “lay down on your back for me baby, please~”

You do it without question. And I get in cow-girl position facing you. Lining your massive cock up with my entrance and slowly sinking down on it until it's sheathed inside me fully. I moan loud and proud as I take all of you.

I grab one of your hands and place it on my love handles, the other I place on one of my boob. “color?” I ask.

You chuckle and smile, “green baby, always”.

And I smile that smile that shows all three of my dimples and makes your knees weak for me. Then I start grinding, rotating my hips in a circle at a tantalizing slow pace.

You groan cause it feels so good. But your eyes roll back when I do a kegel (tighten my pussy) and start bouncing at a fast pace randomly. I moan and drip and leak all over your cock. One hand grabbing one of your forearms while the other moves my hair out of my face.

“Baby you're so beautiful, you're a goddess and I'm lucky you chose me. Fuck baby! Just like that~” you groan as you watch me fuck myself on your cock.

Nothing turns you on more than when I bounce back on you to get more friction in doggy or bounce myself on your cock in cowgirl or reverse cowgirl when I want you to slap my ass🤭.

I continue to bounce, “I'm the lucky one that you found me, I want your babies so bad, give it to me daddy~ please~ I need it so bad~” I whine with tears in my eyes.

Third orgasm approaching rapidly. You groan at that. Grabbing my love handles and fucking up into me at a rapid pace. Making your orgasm approach quicker.

My eyes roll back and I scream a string of loving nicknames towards you. As I squeeze your cock as I cum & squirt all over your cock for the second time tonight. I unknowingly milk your cock for all its worth in the process of reaching my own peak.

Your eyes rolling back as you say, “fuck baby, cumming~ oh fuuuck take my kids~ have my babies! Baby, please! Oooh FUCK! Please take it~ Take it all!~ Good girl~”

All I can do is whine and moan. Being called your good girl makes me cum again and give you all I have with my last little squirt and orgasm of the night. You fucked me so good and my legs burn from this position.

But I keep you inside me as I lay down on you and snuggle into the crook of your neck. Getting cozy while I use your softening cock as a plug for the cum that would come leaking out if I slid off of you.

I meant it when I asked you to give me your babies. I'm just wanting to take a nap while I give as many of your swimmers a fighting chance as I can.

You rub my back and arms lovingly. Moving my hair out of your face.

“I adore you, you beautiful woman, I always will. In this life and the next.” You say lovingly.

I smile and you can feel it on your neck. It gives you butterflies.

“I adore you, in this life and the next my handsome future husband and baby daddy.” I say.

You smile at that. Knowing something that I don't know. I don't know that you've been waiting for the perfect moment to break out that beautiful velvet black box and pop the question. Already planning out our life together. Already knowing you've found the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. Your soulmate, best friend, and lover wrapped up into one beautiful perfect woman you want to wake up next to every day for the rest of your life. And you smile knowing 100% for a fact that the feeling is mutual.

You smile hearing my soft snores. Knowing that I only snore when i'm super tired. And-

*End daydream*

“Cocoa is done! Do you want marshmallows in your Cocoa love?” you ask.

I blink rapidly at that. Being brought back to reality.

I take a minute to respond. To snap back into reality.

“Yeah always, you know I love marshmallows!” I say with a smile.

You smile back at me sweetly. “Of course I do. Just thought I would ask on the off chance you didn't want them this time. Like that would ever happen! My sweetie is a cannibal for sweets when you're on your period. That's why I'm getting as much chocolate & sugar in your system as I can!” You admit sweetly.

I looked at my phone and just received my notifications from the Flo app that my period should start tomorrow. I forget he has it too to know when he has to be extra nice to me. It makes me tear up a bit.

You turn around to give me the Cocoa and see the tears brimming at my eyelashes. “Oh no honey, are you cramping already?” You ask sweetly, concern written all over your face.

I have to blink away the tears and wipe a few away. “No, not yet anyway. Just feeling a bit overwhelmed that I have such a loving doting partner is all. Never thought I'd find someone like you in a million years.” I say sadly, but truthfully.

You look at me with those sad knowing eyes, and put your mug down. While mine sits on the counter and I play with the ring of the cup. You move around the island and turn me around, so I'm facing you.

“I Love you, I'm real, and I'm not going anywhere. Now you say it too so I know you're real and not a robot [lol].” you say sweetly with a joke at the end to make me laugh. I do.

After my fit of giggles, “I love you, I'm real, and I'm not going anywhere either.” I say and hug you around your waist and snuggle into your chest. You start to laugh again and I know what you're going to say before you say it.

“I am not a robot!” I shout, and that makes you laugh harder.

We both laugh, and it's another great night. Another night snuggled up on the couch watching back to back movies and cuddling. You grab us snacks and drinks. Nothing but sweet loving innocent intimacy. Until I change that… Eventually…

My anime husband's that give off this vibe (same age or aged up for some cause no I would never f*** a minor🗣📣💯)

#Demon slayer-

#Giyu tomioka♡

#Kyojuro rengoku

#Sanemi shinazugawa

#Tengen uzui (I want his hot wives more than him ngl☠️💯)

#Inosuke Hashibira

#Tanjiro kamado

#Gyutaro

#Muzan jackson (hee hee🌙🚶‍♂️🕺🎤🎶)

#Tokyo Ghoul-

#Juuzou Suzuya♡

#All out-

#Sekizan Takuya♡

#Iwashamizu Sumiaki♡

#My hero academia-

#Katsuki Bakugo ♡

#Izuku Midoriya ♡♡♡

#Tomura Shigaraki ♡

#Tamaki Amajiki ♡♡♡

#Chainsaw man-

#Denji ♡♡♡

#One punch man-

#Genos ♡♡♡

#Jujutsu Kaisen-

#Satoru Gojo

#Megumi fushiguro

#Kento Nanami

#Mahito </3 (idk what makes me so wet for this mf monster, bro)

#Choso ♡♡

#Toge Inumaki ♡♡

#Seven deadly sins-

#Ban ♡ (in a world with no Elaine lol)

#Inuyasha-

#Sesshomaru ♡

#Naruto-

#Neji Hyuga ♡♡

#Kakashi Hatake ♡♡♡

#Gaara ♡♡

#Kiba Inuzuka♡

#Blue lock-

#Bachira Meguru ♡♡♡

#Chigiri Hyouma

#Kunigami Rensuke

#Nagi Seishirou♡♡

#Barou Shouei

#Black clover-

#Luck Voltia♡♡

#Nozel Silva♡

#Fuegoleon Vermillion ♡

#Mereoleona Vermilion♡♡♡

#William Vangeance♡♡

#Jack the Ripper

[paranoidwriter]

Whenever I see you, I want to throw up (Wenclair one shot)

another edited fic from my ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonshiiinee

Requests are open! 🖤

Wednesday hated Enid. She hated the way she smiled. The way she laughed. And especially she hated how colorful she was. Colorfully annoying (oh, she needed to write that down, she would use that later). Wednesday felt such a deep hate for her, that every time she even saw Enid, her belly felt a deep swoop, as if she was on a falling roller coaster. Except there was absolutely no thrill. She was dying to get rid of her hate, and at least turn it to bitter resentment. She just couldn't stand her reactions around Enid, and she needed to do something about it, for it was becoming embarrassing. Bianca had even pointed out that her face became red with anger around Enid, something she tried to fix with makeup (tried). Although Wednesday knew what the problem was, she had no idea what to do to fix it. She had considered bothering her uncle fester for help, but unfortunately he was busy in Puerto Rico, so she settled for the next best thing. Tyler.

Tyler was a teenage male, so Wednesday was relatively confident he would be able to help her. She obviously was not going to ask Thing, who would definitely blab to her parents about her rivalry. "Let's say I had feelings for someone" Wednesday started when he sat down her quad, cutting to the chase. "Oh-- Oh?" Tyler uttered. Wednesday made no effort to respond just yet, instead dipping her spoon into her drink and pulling it out, hovering her fingers close to the metal to gauge how hot it was. Too hot.

...

......

"And let's say, these feelings are making it near impossible for me to focus on anything" continued Wednesday, completely disregarding the red face of Tyler and instead blowing on her quad delicately, stirring it to cool it down. The foam resembled a skull, which calmed Wednesdays nerves on the thought of her blonde roommate. "And. Theoretically. Let's assume that I need help with these feelings. What should I do?" Wednesday inquired, swishing around her coffee. Tyler leaned on her table, pressing his arm against Wednesdays. Wednesday pulled away and brushed it off like she was picking up her cup. "Well" said Tyler with a chuckle. "I would tell this person how I feel" Wednesday nodded. Finally. A clear, simple answer. Suddenly it all made sense. "Perfect. Thank you." Wednesday replied, getting up from her seat and walking straight out of the shop. She hadn't realized that Tyler had called after her, or that she had left her cup behind.

"Enid"

Enid looked up from her computer, and again, came the swooshing sound of her heart dropping into her stomach. Oh, she hated her.. Wednesday felt a knife drag down her throat, ticking her voice. She could barely even start, but once she managed to find her dead voice, she couldn't stop. "Enid, whenever I see your hideous fashion choices, I want to rip my eyeballs out because of how much stupid highlighter pinks you wear. Whenever I see you, I want to throw up." and it felt amazing to get it out. "Enid, whenever I see you, I feel a hate so deep and disgusting that it takes all I can to not bash my head into the nearest object" Wednesday took three long steps closer to Enid, stepping over the tape she had set. "Whenever I see you, my heart goes into my belly and I can barely speak. My head spins and my face feels like it's on fire, and I am disgusted at such an affect you have on me that I wish to cut you out of my life, which I somehow can't find it in myself to do." That sounded much too sentimental, but Wednesday could barely filter her words with how fast she was speaking, or even realize the slight shakiness coming into her voice. "Unfortunately, I have come to enjoy your senseless, confusing blog. And your stupid makeup. And even your disgusting colorful wardrobe!" and then it all clicked. And Wednesday realized. So she just said it. "Enid, I have feelings for you" Enid's jaw dropped, and Wednesday actually felt her cheeks heat up again at the little smile forming on Enids face. "Oh" she breathed out, feeling such a strange feeling bubble in her chest. A good feeling that she couldn't possibly explain. Enid hesitantly reached out, offering her hand. Wednesday hesitated as well. When Enid began to withdraw her hand, she quickly shot out and grabbed Enids wrist, interlacing their fingers in a particularly rough fashion. There were no words. But when Enids claws came out, Wednesday marveled. Enid giggled. And Wednesday knew everything would turn out fine.

[fixing-syscourse-posts]

Where Syscourse Gets Fixed

Welcome to Fixing-Syscourse-Posts. I'm your host, FSP. Can I get you anything to drink, eat, etc etc? Anyways.

This blog is dedicated to making some humor out of syscourse posts via blackout poetry. I used to really despise these sorts of blogs, because all of them seemed to be trying to make actual points or arguments out of other peoples posts. I wanted to try something different -- I wanted to make people laugh, regardless of stance, because this shit sucks.

I do have an actual syscourse blog, but I don't do actual syscourse here. This blog is dedicated to making fun of it so I can laugh off the ridiculous shit, and hopefully providing everyone else with some humor as well.

Below the cut is more in depth info about me, the blog, and my views. If you want a TL;DR:

I don't syscourse here at all often We color code the posts based on who is fronting We use it/its but they/them works

We have the following tagging system at the moment:

#[insert a color here] -- A specific part made this post, and it correlates to the color of the blackout poetry. (Current colors include Green, Dark Red, Purple, Yellow, Lilac, Mint, and Blue). #it speaks -- Any post where I wrote stuff beyond an image ID under the blackout poetry. #fixing syscourse posts -- Any post that features a blackout poem. #not fixed -- Any post that doesn't feature a blackout poem. #NSFTumblr -- Any post that I feel tumblr (or, perhaps, the workplace) would feel is... unsafe to view. #Negative or #Positive -- Posts that I feel are more overwhelmingly positive or negative compared to others. #It Syscourses -- On the (very rare) occasion that I post syscourse to this blog, you can use this tag to block it

VIEWS:

I don't syscourse here if I can avoid it. I'm a person with DID myself, doing my best, and working on healing in my own ways. My views aren't relevant to this blog, and I'm not going to be sharing them; if that bothers you, the block button is there.

This all being said: I don't actually disagree with all of the posts I use for these blackout posts. I agree with some of them! I just also think it's funny to edit them to say funny things.

WHO ARE YOU:

Very beautiful. Very powerful. Queer as hell and living loud about it. I use it/its pronouns, but they/them is absolutely fine for me as well if you have problems using it/its. I'm an adult, I've been in syscourse for quite a few years at this point, and I have a Real Actual Adult Job that makes Real Actual Adult Money, meaning I don't have time for Not Adult Immature Asshole Syscourse /lh

[winxclubsource]

Hi! I love the blog and I would like to make Flora gifs of the newest seasons but I hate how they whitewashed her skin tone (and I'm using my older psds for her and they still make her look the same skin ton as Bloom, because that's what the show did 😥) I'm wondering if maybe anyone can help me on how I can get her original skin tone back in gifs and without making other character in the same gif (like Bloom) look so yellow? I'll take all the tutorials, sorry for the bother!! ❤

Hi!

It's very hard to fix Flora's and Aisha's skin tones without affecting other characters in the gif. If you have access to After Effects, I highly recommend using it as it has a Color Correction section that works a little more than just PS.

First, pick the scene you want to gif and upload it to After Effects. You can upload it as a gif, but there is no gif option when exporting so you would need to export it again as a gif in PS. Once you have your scene in AE, go to the right of the screen and look for the Color Correction option. Click on Color Correction so you see the list and look for Change Color.

Once you click Change Color, this is what you'll see to the left of the screen:

Select the eyedropper in the Color to Change section, and click the character's skin tone. I recommend avoiding picking from their cheeks as they usually have blush. Then go to Lightness Transform and lower the lightness until their skin gets closer to the original skin tone. Save your work and do what you would usually do to make it into a gif ready for coloring. Once in PS, use the Selective Color to adjust the reds and yellows till you get an exact or close to an exact match of their original skin tone.

For example, here's a very simple Color Correction edit with Flora:

The only thing I did was turn the lightness down after color picking her skin. With Flora, you often have to color pick both her shaded skin and her unshaded skin in order to darken everything. If you just color pick one or the other, only the one you pick will change (in most scenes at least).

The program reads her hair as being the same color so her hair has also darkened, causing the lines to fade as well, however, she definitely looks much better.

And here I've done the exact same thing with Aisha:

Again, you can see that her hair has also changed color, and the shells in the background were also affected, but still much better than before.

Unfortunately, even with this fix, it's hard to combat dealing with other characters in the same scene. Below, I've used the exact same fix, only color picking Flora's skin and lowering the lightness. But...

As you can see here, the other characters now have a bit of a tan, as their skin tones are very close to Flora's in S8 (but it's not that bad since they were all lightened lol). Thankfully, Flora's S8 skin tone does have more yellow and red than the others, so her skin will still end up darker. Depending on the scene and character, you may be able to lower the yellow hues in the white section of Selective Color in PS without affecting Flora's skin tone, as seen here:

You'll also notice some unfortunate "glitching". This is due to the background matching their skin tones. If you're going to use this fix, I'd recommend sticking to scenes where the background is a very different color from their skin (like the above solo examples of Aisha and Flora on the beach). That means avoiding reds, beiges, and yellows as those will change.

Now, if you don't have After Effects, here are two psds for Flora and Aisha respectively. These aren't meant to be all-around fixes; you will likely have to play around with the adjustments depending on what scene you're working with. More often than not, these psds will not work with group shots. Occasionally they will, but usually, they make the other characters very yellow.

PSDS

Happy creating!

[pforestsims]

📣 older updates:

(most recent updates are here)

05.06.23 - Updated Orchids in basegame pots set at MTS. The large pot is now recolourable.

28.05.23 - My recolours of Kalux’s 4t2CandySim Valentine v1 glasses are now layerable with other accessories. DL links: SFS | BOX 

12.04.23 - fixed DressLilBlack mesh default (’fat’ morph wasn’t showing)

14.02.23 - fixed tan recolour for 4t2 Wedge Booties .

26.01.23 - Fixed AM Fancy Suit Default (sharp edges).

03.01.23 - I’ve shared new version of this 4t2 coffeemaker, it has all anims !

25.12.22 - Fixed my custom recolours for Undercut Dreads, please redownload! File is Here (SFS).

Custom colors showed correctly in CAS but not in the game 🙈

19.12.22 - I’ve updated my hair recolours, naturals should now have correct family property (hairstyle will stay the same when switching between natural colours /and ages in CAS).

I’ve also added dark red recolours for Alesso Spring and Wings ON0105 (F).

My hair folder is here (SFS), updated hairs have “updated” suffix.

20.11.22

Floor perfume rack from my Perfumery Set should now be compatible with OFB (sims running a business can set the price etc). If you only need the updated floor rack file, it’s HERE (SFS).

10.11.22 - Hipster metal chair barstool add-on (included in my Bar Chair Set) works properly now. If you only need the fixed barstool, it is here (SFS).

26.10.22 - I’ve updated my edit of Rabbit Pen. And Hay rug mesh - yet again, ‘cuz apparently I shared the wrong thing TWICE and it would still cast a shadow outdoors (?) Not sure what the f*ck is wrong with me but If I mess up you guys need to tell me, ok?

17.09.22 - Added two clonable black recolours for Wings ON0105 Half-shaved hair. You can make recolours in Bodyshop using these (repo files will throw errors). Download here (SFS).

09.09.22 - Fixed pink dirty state for my Mr Maritime Aquarium Default. Download (SFS)

04.09.22 - My edit of Guatla’s Broken kitchen Coffee maker was tweaked by Epi to make it compatible with their Mugs by colour traits. if you use that mod, you can get the updated mesh here (SFS).

23.08.2022 - I’ve updated my edit of Rabbit Pen. And Hay rug mesh - again, ‘cuz previously I shared the old file. It doesn’t cast outdoor shadow, for real this time 😅. OR SO I THOUGHT. It’s fixed now..

Download (SFS)

Also: added Spanish, Swedish, French, Brazilian-Portuguese and Russian translation to pen default. If you’d like to replace it remember to also get the updated Wants file (SFS) from original upload.

26.07.2022 - Vintage Telephone Bench was updated. I’ve fixed the texture reference in txmt (could result in weird thumbnails? not sure) and a shadow disappearing on zoom out - barely noticeable, but if it bothers you, please redownload:

Download (SFS)

17.07.2022 - Added custom bottle to my Custom Perfume Display. Can also be used as a separate functional object. Please note custom perfumes in inventory do not add “use perfume” option to sim’s pie menu, unless you have this mod (SFS).

09.07.2022 - I’ve updated my Bubble Blower Default . Turns out the texture default package contained “no melody” mod (and also smoke effect ?)  because I forgot to remove it. Thanks to @maricbate for letting me know. Now the default file will only replace textures and txmt, nothing else.

Download (SFS)

14 & 15.06.2022 - My Perfume rack default was flipped, the updated archive has “fixed” suffix. Also improved flat surfaces on rack mesh.

Download (SFS)

02.06.2022 & 07.06.2022 - Fixed af hathardhat blue default (replaced with ombre recolours of Hazelpuff 4t2 Divus hair). I got files mixed up again . Default would clash with pmg_MESH_wingsON0105 hair if you also had it in your game. And fix of the fix, 🙈 so now defaulted hair is available for Formal outfits.

Download (SFS)

27.05.2022 - Another update for Lobster Bisque. First I’ve fixed the missing burned pot texture. Second update changes the price for OFB, so it will cost as much as Lobster dish from the game, and not much cheaper Mac and cheese.

✦ Lobster Bisque - update 2 | Download (SFS)

24.VI.2022 - Updated default for Restorable Car [FT] with swapped paint colours. Now it includes edited pie menu paint colours in languages: ENG, GER, PL, SWE, RUS, FRA, ITA, ESP.  

Download (SFS)

14.III.2022 -  If you use my grunge shower curtain recolour for Country Shower Default and the dirty state looks weird or is flashing blue for you, please redownload,  it's here (SFS)

(02.III.2022)

My Lobster Bisque was missing a burned pot texture - fixed.

(15.II.2022)

Two planters from my Terracotta Set were casting square shadows (outdoors). That's been corrected. ✦ Terracotta Planter Set | Download (SFS)

01.II.2022 - Large dirty fan add-on (as appliance) wouldn't show in the catalogue under appliances on public lots, now it does.

s4to2 MKStudio Dirty Ventilation Fan - AddOn & Recolors

✦ Download (SFS)

Pastel recolours shown below are here (SFS)

♢ ♢ ♢

19.I.2022 - I've updated my seasonal Azalea Bonsai add-ons. Now flowerless states for spring & autumn should work properly - you'll get green leaves instead of default pink flowers.

Seasonal Azalea Set - Fixed | Download (SFS)

The entire set with recolours for Bonsai Bonanza Tree [BV] is HERE (SFS).

♢ ♢ ♢

08.X.2021 - CRITICAL FIX

 9 merged recolours file for Central Perk Neon Mug Set

contained a bunch of random mods (yikes)... I’ve cleaned it up.

Download the fixed file HERE (SFS)

The entire updated mug set can be downloaded HERE (SFS)

♢ ♢ ♢

03.X.2021

Updated Small Coctail Glass Neon from my Neon Set

Fixed issues: the glow layer was hidden in the wall, so it was not visible when placed without cheats.

Updated Neon Pack | Download (SFS)

if you only need the small Coctail Glass Neon mesh, it’s HERE (SFS)

♢ ♢ ♢

11.VIII.2021

Updated Lucky Shrine garden light from my Lantern Pack @ MTS. It contained accidental recolours for Swing Arm Floor Lamp (base game).

♢ ♢ ♢

08.VIII.2021

I’ve found out my default / fix for Asayake Garden Lamp glow would also replace street light glow (it was turned yellow, as seen on the left).

The updated Fix is HERE (SFS)

Please note this fix is not mac - compatible because Macs can’t handle lamps containing transparent textures, or even transparent light texture defaults. File for Mac users is here (SFS).

♢ ♢ ♢

04.IV.2021

Updated Waterlily Tub Fountain (Repo) @ MTS - it contained a handheld game recolor that was flashing blue.

♢ ♢ ♢

[jinxhallows]

Method Writing (Lucifer x Fem!Reader Explicit One Shot)

-x-x-x-x-x-

HAHAHAHA I wrote this on a whim after exchanging some DM’s with the incomparable @scarlettriot​ (if you haven't checked out her Red Riot shit its incredible!) so shout out to you for the idea queen LOL. Dis just a lil snackie yall aint nothing too crazy LOL as far as I’m concerned in my head this is as subby as im gon get from daddy LUC lmao

-------

ᴍᴇᴛʜᴏᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ (ʟᴜᴄɪꜰᴇʀ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

ᴄᴡ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴇᴍ!ᴅᴏᴍ, ʜᴜᴍɪʟɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱQᴜɪɴᴛ ʟᴏʟ, ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴀʟ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

ʟᴇɴɢᴛʜ: ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱʜᴏᴛ

ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ: ✩⋆  🎀  𝟤.𝟣k  🎀  ⋆✩

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

You sigh in frustration as you lean back in your computer chair, staring hard at the few lines of text you had written.

“Hit another wall?” Lucifer asks, peering over his glasses from across the room where he sat, reading a tattered old book.

“Yes.” You frown, adjusting the display settings on the screen.  Maybe if you made the page black and the text a soft peach color, it would help shock your vision enough to reset your creative juices into flowing again.

Lucifer sets his book into his lap and takes off his glasses.  “What’s causing it this time?”

“I just…” You’re frowned up at the screen, trying to click around and make unnecessary adjustments.  “I’m not used to this kind of sexual dynamic.  When I write, its sounding too...fifty shades of grey-ish.” You settle on a brown page with an orange text instead.

But now you’re bothered by the font style.

As if anyone reading the manuscript would give a shit! You were supposed to use 12 point Times New Roman on the final copy anyway!  Damn it.  You were beginning to overthink and it was affecting the entire writing process that you used to enjoy.

“Isn’t that book wildly popular amongst human suburban wives? I’d perhaps argue it should sound like that if you intend for people to have an interest in purchasing it.”

You drag your hands down your face, pausing over your mouth, carefully trying to choose your next wording.  

“I’m not just doing this for money.  I’m trying to become a better writer, love.” You add the term of endearment at the end of your sentence, trying to sound less annoyed than you actually were.

“You are a marvelous writer, Y/N.  Your thought pattern is girded at the moment, no doubt; but that doesn’t negate the quality of your penmanship.” Lucifer stands up, gently placing his book on the small table next to him as he crosses the room to hover over your shoulder, looking at your screen.

“What a dreadful eyesore, why have you edited the screen like this?” His arm crosses over you to stabilize himself as he leans in front of you, clicking around on the screen to return it to normal.

“Because I was trying to inspire myself, Luc, wait—” You reach underneath him and place your hand over his on the mouse.  He glances down over his shoulder at you.  “Maybe you could help me?”

“That’s why I’m fixing the screen.”

“No, you have to let me write it Lucifer.” You use a stern tone, “You could write this entire book in minutes, I want to be able to do it myself.  I need you to help me in a different way…”

He stands up and raises a brow, “This is an erotic novel.  Do you want me to fuck you?”

You’re briefly taken aback when he drops out of his tightly constructed pattern of speech to say a brazen phrase like ‘Do you want me to fuck you’.

“How do I explain this…I need you to be…submissive for me.”  Your eyes darken, “Allow me to dominate you.  Just a little bit, so I can get a feel for it.”

“My sweetheart, I would love to help you, but submission is not a part of my framework.” He chuckles, “I would have no idea where to start.”

“Exactly.  You wouldn’t start, I would.” You lean back in the chair, folding your arms across your chest as you challenge him.  “I have no idea how to be dominant but if we try together, maybe we can figure it out.  At the very least, it’ll give me a break from all this.” You tilt your head at the screen.

Lucifer runs his thumb over his lower lip, considering your proposition.  “Let’s say I agree to this arrangement, for tonight only...” his eyes meet yours, “You never breathe a word of this to anyone.”

You bite back your shit-eating grin.  “I promise.”

“I’m very serious my love…” He’s towering over you, placing both his hands on the arms of your chair, leaning you back as his scarlet eyes burn through you. HIs lips ghost your cheek and rest right next to your ear and you nearly shiver as he whispers,

“If I hear that anyone knows about this, I will devour you.” he pulls back to look you in your eyes once more.

“Am I understood?”

Wide-eyed, you give a slow nod.  His gaze flits over your face for a moment before he’s satisfied and stands back up.  

“Alright then,” he starts to pull his shirt over his head,  “What would you like for me to do for you?”

You watch him, your thoughts racing and your adrenaline causing you to get a little too excited about this experiment.  Suddenly, this powerful man was going to be at your mercy.  Well, Lucifer wasn’t someone who would go down willingly of course.  All the better, you had to work for it.

Talk about method writing.

You arch your foot, dragging your painted toes up his leg until you were over his groin.  You never take your eyes off of his as you press the sole of your foot slowly into him, taking the time to feel the outline of his cock through his silk pajama pants.

“First thing I need you to do is get on your knees.” You push in a little harder, feeling the slow firmness in his building erection.  “I’m not going to be looking up at my pet.”

His stare remains intense as he slowly drops down onto one knee, followed by the other.  “Like this?” He asks, now at eye level with you.

“Much better.” You praise and reach out to push a few stray wavy black locks behind his ear, “Good boy.” You study his expression and although he remains stolid, his fair skin betrays him as the redness rises in his cheeks.  He claims he doesn’t know what to do, but he listened well; and he was enjoying it to some small degree.  You stand up and push the chair away, beginning to circle around him, contemplating what you were going to do.

Damn it, he was so much better at this than you were.  He seemed to take command of you quickly and confidently, and here you were, overthinking again.

Still, it was turning you on to see him on his knees like this, waiting for your next move.  You suddenly have a strange idea, so you stop directly in front of him and he looks up at you from the ground.

“Release your horns for me.”

Lucifer silently obeys, two curled black rigid horns merging and curling from atop his scalp.  His hooded gaze makes you intoxicated with power and arousal.  It’s like he’s still the one in control, and is only allowing you the brief fantasy of believing you’re the one in charge.

This kind of irritates you, as you want him to fully submit to you.  You curl your fingers around his right horn and give it a tug, “Come.” You command.  He’s down on his hands and knees, crawling across the hard wooden floor as you guide him with your tight grip over to the bar cart.  You let go of him and he’s now staring at the floor.

Good.

Maybe he’s beginning to learn some humility.

His obedience is making you want to just sit on his cock already, but you want to truly focus on the feeling of being dominant more than just the act of intercourse.  You two knew how to fuck, that much was very clear; but you didn’t understand how this dynamic worked.  So you extended the slow burn just how you liked.

You sit upon his back, knowing the limits of his strength.  Of course, he doesn’t waver, and you grab a glass and pour yourself up some of his aged scotch.  You take a sip of it before spattering it back out.

“This is disgusting.” You look down at him and dump the remaining expensive scotch over his head without a thought.  

At first you gasp.

You went too far.

That was mean.

But he shakes his head to clear the liquid from his hair; reminding you of some kind of....goat-dog hybrid, what with his horns exposed and everything.  You notice his hands curling into fists on the ground but he doesn’t look up.  It makes you smile.  Good thing he can’t see that.

“What a good boy you’re being for me Lucifer.  Do you want me to reward you for your behavior?” You run your hands over his head several times, peeling back the wet, soaked locks from sticking to his brow and temple.

He exhales through his nostrils.  “Yes.” He mutters.  You can tell he wants to say so much more.

“Aht aht.” You give a tight yank of his horn, “Yes, what?”

He swallows, “Yes...M...” he’s struggling to say it.  You yank again, harder, forcing his head back at a painfully unnatural angle.

“You better not make this fucking difficult Lucifer, I can get real fucking nasty with you and you’re pissing me off.”

“Yes Mistress.” He finally mumbles, nearly inaudibly.

You stand up and walk in front of him, kneeling down and grasping his chin with your hand as you force him to look you in the face.  “I don’t think you understand what it means to be submissive, Lucifer.  You are not in control right now, I am. So all this useless pride can go in the garbage. I am your Mistress and you will address me as such or I’m going to fuck—you—up–” You squeeze his face tightly, digging your nails into his skin as your teeth clench together; before you finally let go.

You shake your hand from the pain of squeezing.  The deep, reddened nail marks you’ve imprinted into his skin begin to slowly fade as he watches you with an angry glower but doesn’t dare to object.

“Massage my hand you fucking worthless demon.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

You place your hand out and he sits up onto his knees again, taking your hand in his own and running his fingers over your skin, kneading into the muscle.  It feels so good, you almost forget the intention you had behind him doing it for you.

“That’s enough.” You snatch you hand away, “Good boy.” You look him up and down before your tone eases by a hair.  “I don’t want to have to be mean and nasty to you Lucifer, but please understand that your ego will be checked accordingly.  Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes Mistress. Crystal.” He replies tersely.

“I’m not a fan of that tone; but we can work on it...” You begin to undo your robe, the satin fabric falling around your body as you sit in his reading chair, your leg hanging over the arm.  His eyes scan over your naked body hungrily.

“You should allow me to clean you up.”  The lust building in his loins was getting overwhelmingly frenetic; but if there was one thing that Lucifer was going to do, it was maintain his composure.  He cleared his throat before asking again, more appropriately,

“Mistress, may I please clean you up?”

Your eyes lit up, “My sweet handsome pet, of course you may.”  You watch as he crawls over to you and obediently makes quick work of the wet arousal you’ve leaked over your thighs from the start.  Your flavor dances over his tongue as he swipes your inner thigh, over your folds, and slowly spreads them apart his lips closing over your pulsing bundle of nerves.  He’s sucking and licking and you are coming undone with how good it feels.

“Oh god that feels so good–” Your head falls back against the chair as the breathy words tumble from your lips.  He stops so abruptly, your head darts up again to look down at his beautiful face between your legs.

“Ah, there’s my pretty Mistress.  I just wanted to see your face.” He kisses your mound, “I love watching it twist up, when I make you feel this good.” His warm tongue flattens over your slit before slipping in between and caressing your clit. You struggle to keep your eyes on him, feeling your chest huffing with your quickened, irregular breathing pattern.  He drops you off the edge of a splintering orgasm that makes your back arch out of the chair, hand tangling in the hair between his horns, your grip tight as you ride out your release with a few bucks of your hips.  You come down with a pleasant sigh, relaxing into the chair.

“I think I have enough now…for the scene at least...” You giggle softly.

Lucifer stands up, and you are at eye level with the prominent stiffness in the front of his pants.  He then leans down to you with a malevolent smile.  

“Oh but we’ve only just begun.” He places his fingers under your chin, tilting your head up.  “This was a fun little game; but now you’ve made me so hard, it hurts. You wasted a very expensive glass of scotch being such a little brat.” He uses his thumb to pull down your lip, pressing the tip into your bottom teeth, hard.  You stare up at him, hooked onto his every word.

“I’m going to have to punish you for that.”  His voice becomes impossibly quieter, almost a demonic whisper, “You’ll have to forgive me, Mistress, but I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow.”

[hollandsmushroom]

Broken Rules and Ruined Lace

Pairing:Tom Holland x Reader AU:No Word Count:3,134 A/n:Um, this is just pure filth pretty much, its slightly edited so I hope it is good but I am not sure…I think everything I write is shit so um, feedback is greatly appreciated. Warnings: Smut Masturbation, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Slight Degradation, Cum Play, Cum, Dom!Tom, Smut, Oral(F receiving), unprotected sex, orgasm control, orgasm denial, spanking(one mention). I think that is everything if not I am sorry.

Masterlist

Request Something

It’s not that you wanted to break Tom’s rule, you didn’t want to be his brat, you really wanted to be his good girl. But as soon as you woke up you knew that you were fighting a losing battle and all you could do was try and hold off the inevitable.

You remember when Tom set the rule, both of you laying in bed, your had rested on his sweaty chest as you stared up at his flushed face, entranced by the movement of his lips, they were still wet with your arousal and his spit, the slickness catching the minimal rays of light in the shadowed room causing the thing yet plump flesh to glisten, distracting you from his words.

“Y/n?” he gave your head a light tug, forcing your eyes to meet his “Are ya listening to me?” His accent was thick and words were stern.  

“No, sorry”

“I was saying you can’t touch yourself without permission” he growled, mashing his mouth to yours teeth hitting each other with the pressure of the open mouthed kiss. “So no more of what you did today, you hear me?” he asked, breathing heavily from the intensity of the kiss, his eyes looking deep into yours searching for recognition, you gave it to him in the form of a nod and a quiet “Yes, Tommy” before curling even further into him.

As you recalled what that night you knew you should be focusing on the assertiveness he used when speaking to you but all you could think about was how his lips felt on yours. On days like these his words never left your mind, but today you were more focused on remembering your cum on his lips. You knew that you needed permission but you didn’t want to bother with asking him if you could get off without him. Deep down you knew the excuse of not wanting to bother him was simply that, an excuse because you knew what his answer would be and it would be so much easier to disobey if he didn’t know that you had been thinking about it already, if he didn’t know to check if you had broken, if he didn’t remind you of the consequences.

When you had woken up Tom was already gone, you knew that he had press for Spider-Man No Way Home which was premiering tonight, your cunt on the other hand, had a mind of its own. As soon as you had fully awoken you felt a heat in your core, a fire that was waiting to be stoked, one that the clenching of your thighs in an attempt to alleviate the desire only worsened. A small whimper passing your lips as your thighs pressed your labia together, applying pressure to your swollen clit. You tried to ignore it, hauling your ass out of bed and to the kitchen, fixing yourself a nice cup of tea, sipping slowly as you tried to focus on anything else. The burn of the hot liquid on your tongue or how the marble counter was digging into your lower back, even Tessa’s cold nose nuzzling your calf, but nothing was working.

Deciding to put off making a choice until after breakfast, you fixed yourself something to eat. Focusing on the food in front of you as you did your best not to burn anything. Your brain was a debate, divided and arguing over the pros and cons. The pros were simply that you would get off, that the burning itch of ecstasy would go away, the cons well out weighed them, Tom’s punishment should have been threat enough but the state you were in was something past rationality. You surprised yourself by your decision that you were gonna do it. Eyes looking at the clock on the oven, the digital flash of numbers alerting you that Tom would be home in a couple hours, enough time for you to have your fun and not get caught.

You felt a little bad about disobeying Tom, but as soon as your hypersensitive skin met your sheets, and the pads of your fingers touched your clit, all guilt evaporated from you. Your mind was on him the whole time, how his fingers felt in you and on you. Pinching your nipples between your thumb and pointer finger, rolling the nub gently as you rubbed your clit furiously. Your body had been ready to go since you woke up, your orgasm building mere minutes after you began, your fingers covered in your slickness, you wished they could be cleaned by Tom’s tongue. You wanted it to be his fingers or better yet his cock that grazed over your g-spot making you dive into the pool of ecstasy that overflowed in your lower belly. You came down from your high, eyes falling upon the large blotch of liquid that squirted from your core, tainting your pure grey sheets, you assured yourself that it would dry before Tom got home not finding it in you to change the bed sheets.

You felt much more calm, your body feeling less like it was vibrating in a high speed desire ridden anxiety, it felt like you could breath and like you weren’t about to explode. You looked at the clock, knowing that you needed to get ready and you still had just over enough time to get yourself to the state that was presentable to the world. Making your way to the bathroom, turning on the shower and stepping in, scrubbing your hands clean, trying to rid them of your strong scent.

Tom came home from the press junket an hour later, already ready for the event, having had to be all put together since this morning for press. You heard him, his footsteps sounding on the hardwood floor followed loudly by Tessa’s claws clicking as she ran up to him, his voice was tired and beautiful, sounding like home and calling to you.

“Love, you here?”

“Up here Tommy” you shouted in response, continuing to apply your final bits of makeup to be prepared for the evening, specifically the red carpet.  Tom followed the sweet notes of your voice, wanting nothing more than to hold you in his arms, to ground himself from all the insanity that was the countless interviews. Tom found his plans changing when he saw something on the covers of your shared bed, his eyes catching on some patches of dampness on the grey duvet cover, they were mostly dry but still altering the color of the sheet a shade darker than it would normally be. His eyebrows raised up his forehead he went to check it was, making sure that Tessa hadn’t peed on the bed again. As soon as got near the spots a familiar scent hit him, arguably his favorite smell, one that almost always made his cock harden, the only exception being when he was already fucked out. It was the smell of your arousal, your cum to be more specific.

He was confused, you hadn’t had sex in a couple of days so why would your cum be on the sheets, unless you broke his rule. He felt a fury boil inside of him, mindlessly drawing him to where you stood in front of the mirror preparing yourself for the premier of his movie tonight.

“Hi Tommy!” you spoke excitedly as you could, your focus on the spooly in your hand applying mascara to your lashes. Without a word his hand wrapped around your wrist pulling your dominant hand to his face.

“Tom what the fuck” you exclaimed, angry that he had interupted you and almost ruined your face of make up but that anger melted quickly, realizing what he was doing as he unfurled your pointer and middle finger from around the mascara wand, bringing them to his nose as he glared at you.

The scent was faint on his nose, not as noticeable as it had been on the bed sheets but yet it was still present, hidden under multiple bouts of hand washing trying to rinse your disobedience down the drain with your lavender scented hand soap but clearly you hadn’t be thorough enough, the faintest hint still present.

“Tom, I-”

“No talking” he bit at you, your mouth shutting immediately as you nodded at his words. He pushed his body against yours, the imprint of his dick showing through his trousers before it pressed against you. His lips burn the skin on your neck before scratching his teeth over the juncture of your shoulder and your collar bone, biting down hard, making you hiss at the pain. “You broke the rule, I should have expected that you being the little fucking brat that you are” he chastized, his fingers bunching up the edges of your dress, hiking it up until the ruffled silk sat above the round of yoru ass, you barely clothed core visible to Tom’s hungry eyes as he knelt infront of you, fingers slipping inbetween your thighs and forcing them apart, a wave of yoru arousal hitting his nose. “You smell so sweet, I would love to devour your pretty little cunt but that’s only for good girls’’ he leans in and bites your mons, the lace barely protecting you from the blunt of his teeth.

The lace scrunched up beneath his teeth as he tugged it farther from your burning skin, pulling them downwards as he exposed your core, mouth watering as he saw your wetness connect to the crotch of your panties to your cunt. He had to remind himself that he couldn’t that you didn’t deserve it, that he was angry with you, but god did you look fucking delicious.

“Im gonna fuck you so hard, your legs are gonna shake the whole way down the red carpet, you’re gonna need me there to hold you up, even though you don’t need me cause you got off on your own” Tom spat, undoing his belt buckle.

“I do need you” you whimpered, the cold on your core nearing pain, all the blood rushing between your thighs increasing your sensitivity, the contrast of the chilled atmosphere on your burning skin already too much for you to handle.

“What did I say about talking, pretty girl” his often soothing voice coming out as a snarl. Taking the base of his cock he ran his tip through your folds, coming downwards over your clit before stopping at your entrance, thrusting into you without any warning, fully entering you with the first thrust. Tom watched as you bit your lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood.

“Good girl, stay quiet” he ordered as he started to thrust, the impetus of his hips making his balls slap against your taint, a jolt rolling up your spine as you felt every inch of him pulsing inside of you.

You wanted to scream, to whine, to moan, but all you could do was bite your lip as the pleasure started to overtake your body, every inch of your body being set aflame as Tom continued his thrusts. Tears were pricking your eyes as his hand gripped into your yielding and supple flesh, you felt your orgasm building, and you knew that Tom was too, his tip twitching against your walls, but just as you were about to unravel he pulled out, grabbing his cock and sliding his hand up and down it, thick white spools of cum shooting out, and landing on your panties, tainting the french lingerie that Tom had bought you on a romantic get away not long before. You were less worried about the lace, more about the intensified burning between your thighs that you now knew wasn’t being satisfied or eased anytime soon.

“It’s time to go,” Tom informed, pulling back from you leaving you standing there, your face portraying nothing but shock, eyes flitting between the cum that tainted your red lace panties and Tom’s smirking face. He tugged your panties back up your legs, soothing the lace over your core and spreading the cum across your folds before planting a kiss on your lips. “Come on” he tugged your wrist and led you down stairs to head to the event.

At the red carpet you felt his cum cooling on your folds and slipping between them, spreading around with every single step you took, you felt it seeping through your lace, smearing on your thighs and making them sticky. It was all you could think about the whole evening, how it continued to spread and absorb into your soft skin, it felt too much, and he wasn’t even touching you. Tom could tell how much it was affecting you, occasionally rubbing his hand up your thigh and gathering a little on his fingers, sneakily placing them in his mouth and sucking them clean. When you arrived home, you were a mess, your thighs sticking with his cum but slipping with your own arousal. It was enough to make you cum just thinking about it, and you were pretty sure you could if given the chance, but you weren’t. As soon as you reached the solace of your bedroom Tom spoke up, really the first time since before the event.

“Let’s get ready for bed” he suggested, causing a frown to overtake your face, but not wanting to make things worse you gave a curt nod and headed to the bathroom, grabbing one of Tom’s shirts on the way in there. You stripped yourself of your constraining dress, slipping on the loose fabric, and involuntary sigh escaping your lips at the feeling of freedom. You had already finished your nightly routine when Tom came in, you were right about to sit down and clean yourself up when he caught you by the waist.

“Nuh uh, don’t clean yourself up yet” he whispered, breath hot on your neck making goosebumps spread wherever his breath touched. “Go lay on the bed and wait for me” he ordered, placing a soft kiss beneath your ear. Spinning you in the direction of the door, and laying a slap on your ass, watching it jiggle as you walked away.

You laid down on the bed, you were stuck on thinking about what was about to happen, having been nearly positive that you already got your punishment for your disobedience. Tom sensed your confusion as soon as he walked into the room, standing at the end of the bed for a moment, watching you as you watched him, his eyes eager as they caught your pussy peeking out from beneath the hem of your shirt.

“I’m gonna make you cum with my tongue” was all he said before he was on you kissing his way down your body, lifting up the oversized shirt that now covered your body, nothing underneath it. The soft cotton bunching up much like your dress had earlier in the evening.

“Look at this cunt, so fucking gorgeous” Tom groaned, looking at how his cum still covered the lips of your pussy. “I love seeing my cum on you” his tongue flicked out and licked some of the arousal that was leaking from your entrance, the mixture of his spunk and your slick delicious on his taste buds.

“Tommy I want you in me” you whimpered, tugging on his hair.

“Nuh uh baby girl, I’m letting you cum on my tongue, you don’t get to be greedy, “ he growled, softly sinking his teeth into your clit. “You can moan, you can touch me, but you will only cum when I tell you too” you nodded your head eagerly, at the point where you would have agreed to anything just to have him touch you properly. He said nothing else, no words, no noise, simply licking over the closed lips of your pussy, enjoying the taste, if he hadn’t drained his cock earlier he knew that he would have been hard, and he was actually happy he wasn’t, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to hold out from fucking you to completion if he was.

“Taste so fucking good, baby” he slipped his tongue between your lips, licking over the folds and vallies that lined the inside of your vulva.

“Tom T-t-Tom you feel so- fuck good” you moaned, threading yoru fingers in his hair as you tried to pull him closer to you trying to smear your cunt across his face, but he fought back, he was gonna make you cum, but in his own time. Finally after multiple minutes of kitten licks and light kisses between your folds he fully delved into your cunt. Licking a heated spitty stripe from entrance to clit. He pulled back and spat on your clit, rubbing his nose against it as his tongue slipped into your cunt, licking the inside of nudging that one spot deep inside of you as his nose bumped into your clit. He continued this action over and over again, the thrust of his tongue increasing the pressure on your clit.

“Tommy, I-I-I’m gonna cum” you whimpered, your legs trying to clamp around his head but his hands held them in place.

“Cum on baby, cum on my face” he spoke into your cunt as he sped up his movements, letting pushing you over the edge, and you fell, your back arching off the sheets as your body tensed, toes curling into the duvet as your breath was pulled from you lips, a silent scream on your mouth. He held you through your orgasm, only tearing away from your pussy when he was sure he had milked you of everything that you had. Licking his lips and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he watched you, your eyes were clenched shut as you tried to catch your breath. Your high, leaving you so blissed out that you didn’t realize Tom had left and come back until a cool wet towel soothed your burning core, a sigh escaping your lips.

Throwing the towel into the hamper he crawled into bed next to you, pulling you into him. His touch still burned your skin, the need to unravel around him still not having been satiated. He seemed to sense your tension, rubbing his hand down your back and breaking the thick silence in the air.

“You’ll get what you want tomorrow morning, love, I promise, but don’t you dare think of getting off while I’m asleep,” he hummed, kissing your temple before turning off the light. You wanted to whine, to complain and be a brat but you knew that would just get you even farther from cumming around Tom’s pretty cock, so you maintained your peaceful silence, eyes fluttering shut just thinking of what you were gonna get the next morning.

@thehumanistsdiary @spydeysense​

[pradaksj]

Safety Net || part one. (m.)

all rights reserved © pradaksj

↳do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

❧ summary ⟶ on new year’s eve, you and jungkook reflect on each other’s entire year together. 

❧ pairing⟶ jungkook/reader 

❧ genre⟶  enemies to friends, friends to lovers, roommates au, fluff, angst, pining, eventual smut, boxer!jungkook. two-part series. 

❧ word count ⟶ 24,000+

❧ warnings ⟶ mentions of oral and sex but nothing explicit or descriptive. fight scene that involves drunk man. mentions of bullying (in the past). 

❧ music⟶ safety net, selfish, stuck on you, exile, +more

❧ a/n (please read) ⟶ this story switches a lot from past & present, I color coded borders to make it easier to tell :) dark purple = entering/still in the past, light purple= present, also this is unedited so sorry for any mistakes 😭 ill come back to edit a lot of things soon. 

01 | 02 

“Oh perfect, y/n!” Hobi stops you dead in your tracks before you could completely make your way onto the living room, “You don’t mind grabbing some more firewood from my car while I finish these up,” he says, currently too busy melting the chocolate for the s’mores he was making.

You see tonight was New Year’s Eve, and you and a couple of other close friends had decided to rent out a cabin in celebration of the new year instead of going out to some end of the year party, choosing comfort over a night of wild drinking. In the end it didn’t make much of a difference, because the moment you saw Jimin and Taehyung walk in with a pack of soju and other cheap liquor in their hands, you knew that by the end of the night someone, if not everyone, was going to end up completely wasted.

And of course, you were right. After hours of being outside in the cold, with the boys drinking as if there was no tomorrow, everyone had now made their way back inside, complaining that it was too cold outside and that the cabin came with an indoor fireplace for a reason.

Never one to drink too heavy, you had kept your drinking at a moderate pace, only allowing yourself to reach a relaxed kind of buzz. Namjoon and Yoongi on the other hand were currently debating on whether the US’s landing of the moon was nothing more than a fake ploy to beat Russia and was instead filmed on some movie set. 

Jin and his girlfriend acted as measly facilitators between the two men who had been bickering back and forth for the past hour, their slurred speeches making it difficult to take either one seriously. 

Jimin, for his part, had attempted to keep his drinking at a minimal but with Taehyung acting as his partner in crime, the two were now playing an unbalanced game of ping-pong, both of them looking as if at any moment they were going to knock out on the table. And Jungkook was— well where the hell was Jungkook?

But before you could dwell too much on the thought, Hobi’s voice snaps you back to reality, “pleaseeee, I’ll even add an extra chocolate square to your s’more, just like how always like em,” he flashes you a smile, your roommate of 3, going on 4, years knowing just what to say to convince you, not that you needed much of it. 

Minus Hobi, you were probably the person closest to being sober, and you did not want to imagine the different disastrous scenarios that would happen if he sent anyone who wasn’t yourself out there. You also highly doubted any of them would even be up for it, and so with that you just let out a small groan, mumbling, “Where are your keys?”

Excitedly he points to the kitchen island, where his Hyundai’s keys laid across, “I parked right near the lake,” he says, immediately causing you to look back at him, brows furrowed in confusion, “No one wanted to carry the wood from here to the bonfire earlier, so I just parked near the lake to save our energy,” you roll your eyes, “Come on, it’s just a 2 minute walk at most, and I’m sure there’s still people celebrating across the lake as well so you don’t feel so scared, but if you want I can ask Jungkook to go wi—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine—” you interrupt, grabbing the keys and beginning to make your way out, quickly putting on your coat because God knew how cold it was outside. “He’s probably asleep already, knowing him,” you chuckle, the boy who Hobi had introduced you to in the last year and had been living with you two as well, had habit’s that were all too predictable by now. And though you knew he’d be more than glad to get up from bed and help, for now at least, you wanted him to rest as he, himself, was probably tired from carrying things back and forth all day in the help of preparing everything. “I’ll be quick,” you say.

“Make sure that no wooden splinter cuts you,” he shouts out before the wooden door closes, having been the victim to such cuts all day, “and call me if you find it too heavy!”

Beep. Beep.

Double clicking the lock button, you grunt as you try to simultaneously carry the uneven pieces of firewood and place Hobi’s keys back into your jacket’s pocket.

“Oh my God—” you mumble to yourself, frustrated by the lack of cooperation from the keys. The wood was now slipping from your hands, its gritty texture eager to leave you a cut and as predicted it does. 

Wincing in pain, you uncaringly drop the pieces of wood, worried more about the cut on your hand than what had fallen on the ground below. Luckily the cut wasn’t too bad, nothing a little soap and water couldn’t fix, but the tingly sting in your hand meant that you’d have to wait a while before picking the wooden pieces back up.

Around you, you could hear the sound of different groups of friends and family celebrating with their own events, spotting different bonfires all around the lake. Glancing at the time on your phone, it currently read 11:00, only one more hour until the new year. A part of you was tempted to walk further down the path that led to the lake’s shore. Maybe even secretly wait so that you could watch the fireworks these groups of people most likely had shoot up into the sky at 12. Especially because you knew going back to the cabin, no one would want to come back out with you to watch. Honestly, how bad did they need their wood?

And so by convincing yourself, you begin to walk further towards the lake, careful not to trip on any of the scattered rocks that surround you. By the time you made it down, you were surprised to see just how far you were from other families, most, if not all, of them being directly across the lake. Honestly you wouldn’t have preferred it any other way. 

You didn’t want to seem creepy, but the sight was somewhat comforting, the kids running around in their winter gear while their parents and friends all surrounded their bonfire, sticks and marshmallows in hand.

Not to mention that tonight was a full moon, the milky glow from the moonlight reflecting against the ripples of the lake, and the tiny stars which surrounded the magnet that was the moon only adding to the grand scenery in front of you. Usually you weren’t a sucker for these kinds of things, but wow did it look amazing. The person who’d really enjoy something like this was probably—

“Jungkook,” you breathe out, confused if you were seeing things because there he was, not too far from where you stood, sitting on a giant rock with his feet dangling, careful to not touch the freezing water. His right hand throwing the small pebbles that were near him to the lake. Not too hard, and not too soft. Clearly in his own world. 

A small smile graces your lips, as you watch him continue, the lake not being the only thing the moonlight was hitting. His glimmering doe shaped eyes focused on the view in front of him, and you could only wonder what had him in such deep thought, but instead not wanting to bother, you slowly began to walk back, careful to not to make any loud noises.

One Step. Two Steps. Three Steps. Crrreaaak.

Mentally, you groan at the sound of the branch breaking, hoping that it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear.

“Y/N?” he says unsurely, his attention snapping towards the sound, squinting while trying to make out your figure from afar. Your tensed shoulders drop in response. Deciding that there wasn’t much you could do, you turn around and walk towards him, feeling a little guilty that you’ve probably interrupted his time alone.

He watches as you make your way towards him, scooting to his left in order to make space for you because unbeknown to you, he was not at all bothered by your presence. In fact, he had just been thinking about you along with a question that had been looming over his head for quite some time. And the fact that you somehow managed to appear in this exact moment, almost as if it was fate, only left him in further awe.

“I thought you were asleep,” you chuckle, gently sitting down on the empty spot next to him, slowly rubbing your slightly cut hands together in an attempt to stay warm.

“I was going to sleep, but,” he pauses, “I just couldn’t,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, “and well why waste such a good view by being in bed, am I right?,” he laughs before quickly noticing the fresh scar on your hand, “What happened?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

You shrug your shoulders in response, “I came to grab some more firewood from Hobi’s car and well long story short, I dropped them and well I got left with this,” you laugh, not taking your tiny injury too seriously.

Opening up your hand to further show him, he carefully examines the pinkish-red scar which was now slightly swollen, sighing in disappointment, “Mm you should’ve gone to go get it disinfected,” he mumbles, slightly shaking his head as he decides that he wasn’t going to lecture you any further, for in the past year he’s learned that even someone as sweet as you, has their own buttons capable of being pushed. 

Having pushed them many, many times before, tonight he just wanted you to feel relaxed and not have to worry about whether he’d say the wrong thing or not. Tonight… well tonight he just wanted for you to seek comfort in his presence, the same way he’d found comfort in yours along the way.

“It doesn’t hurt too much if I’m being honest,” you give him a small reassuring smile, if anything your hands felt more clammy than they did pain. The warm feeling in your chest only expanding to the point where you swore you could feel it at the bottom of your toes. 

Honestly, it was a feeling you found yourself all too familiar with these days, and though you knew what it was, you were also unsure on how to act on it, fearful of ruining the friendship with Jungkook that had gone through several ups and downs this year. And so for you the easiest thing to do was to just avoid thinking about it and avoid talking about it.

But there was no denying that the rush of emotions you’d feel whenever you managed to crack a laugh out of Jungkook to the point where his nose would scrunch so high up that you were sure that those happy days would last forever, or the ticklish butterflies you’d feel in your stomach on movie nights where he’d randomly begin to twirl your hair with his fingers, and the rapid heartbeat you’d feel hitting against your chest after an argument over something so trivial, until of course after several days of the silent treatment, one of you would get over themselves and stubbornly apologize whether it be through words or actions, were nothing but love.

Because even in the good and bad of your friendship, the arguments and the laughs, the tears and the smiles, somehow along the way you had found yourself falling in love with the boy who was nothing more than a stranger a year ago today.

“50 more minutes,” he says under his breath, bringing you back to reality.

Awkwardly you smile, “Yeah…” you breathe, the cold crisp weather causing vapor to come out of your mouth, a sign that you were freezing despite having such a thick sweater on. Jungkook is quick to take notice, offering his own puffy jacket for you to wear, to which you quickly refuse, “Take it, I have a sweater underneath anyway,” he pressures. You find it doubtful that his black cotton turtleneck was going to be sufficient enough for him in this weather. 

You giggle at his sweet gesture, finding it all too endearing, “I’m telling you I’m good,” you laugh, your shivering fingers telling a different story, “Until the clock strikes twelve at least,” you bargain, pushing the sweater in his hand away back towards him, “then I’ll go back to the warm cabin.” 

He looks at you as if unconvinced, but decides to drop it and take your word for it. And if you somehow managed to weasel into staying any longer past 12, then he’d just have to forcefully carry you back to the cabin.

Soon a comfortable silence fills the air, the two of you appreciating not only the view but each other’s presence. How fitting was it that the person you met on New Year’s day last year was going to be the person you ended it with, and begin a whole ‘nother year with.

“Can you believe it’s been one whole year since we’ve met,” he suddenly breaks the silence, almost as if reading your mind. To that you let out a small breathy chuckle, in disbelief yourself. Time had gone both so slow and fast this year, it was fascinating really, how you could be both so aware and unaware that someone’s very own existence was beginning to take such a special place in your heart.

“It feels like,” you pause momentarily, a small gentle smile appearing on your face as you remembered your first encounter with Jungkook, not knowing that it’d only be the beginning to the originally rocky relationship you had with him, “It feels like it was only yesterday.”

December 31, 2018.

New Years Eve.

11:00 PM.

“Only one hour left until the new year everybody!” the DJ shouts onto his mic and over the blasting music of the party you were currently at, “Make sure you grab that special somebody before the clock strikes 12!”

“You heard him y/n, go grab a special somebody,” Hobi teases, the two of you currently sitting at the bar acting as mere spectators to the group of partygoers that were currently having the time of their life on the dance floor.  

For both you and Hobi, this type of setting was a little… how could you describe it … out of place for the two of you, but after weeks of begging from both Jimin and Taehyung and a little added pressure from Namjoon and Yoongi, the two of you now found yourselves here drinking the final night of 2018 away.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny,” you playfully roll your eyes, grabbing the shot glass full of tequila and downing the surprisingly smooth liquor. Hobi follows suit and chugs down his own. A squirmful look on his face following soon after. “Maybe if I drink enough, I’ll find myself dancing just like them,” you laugh, glancing at your group of friends who were currently acting as the life of the party, Jimin busting out what he calls his most “exclusive” moves.

Hobi, unlike him, remains silent which catches your attention. His attention was now on his phone, his face now appearing both red and stressed out. Nosily, you stretch your neck and attempt to peak at what could possibly have your roommate so worried, but Hobi’s quick to catch you. Immediately he pulls his phone towards his chest.

You gasp in dramatic fashion because one, your roommate wasn’t one to keep secrets from you, and two, well you were beginning to feel a little tipsy. “Now what could Jung Hoseok be hiding,” your words come out slightly slurred, a sign that the only thing you should be drinking from this point onward was some water.

“I’m not hiding anything,” he’s quick to respond, back on his phone but this time keeping it out of your reach, his fingers quickly tapping against the glass screen. You could only wonder who it was that had him typing as if his life depended on it.

“Come onnnnn,” you sing, playfully pushing his shoulder, “It can’t be that interesting, considering you don’t do much,” you pout. He looks up from his phone for a moment, but only to shoot you a glare, excusing your teasing with the fact that you were barely holding onto the state of being tipsy and on the brink of being considered drunk.

Hobi’s eyes quickly read the most recent text he’s received, rolling his eyes at whatever it was before sighing in distress, “You really wanna know?” eagerly you nod your head yes, “Well I was hoping he would be here so I could introduce you to him,” he gently shakes his head, clearly disappointed by tonight’s outcome.

“Ooooo who's the special person,” you quirk your brows up and down, but Hobi’s quick to shoot the idea down.

“Oh no, no, it’s not like that,” he laughs, “this person is a..” he pauses, trying to look for the best word to describe his relationship with said person, “Mm I guess we can call him a childhood friend,” he hums, “and well he’s been going through a bit of a tough time right now and well long before me and you ever met, he went out of his way to help me and well I think this time it’s only right that I’m there for him.” you tilt your head, slightly confused as to where this was going, “And sooo,” he sings, “I was hoping that by bringing you here and having you in a fun mood, that I could ask if he could stay at our place for a couple of months…”

You remain silent, Hobi’s words processing through your head one by one, an effect of the alcohol currently running through your system, “Only until he gets used to being in Seoul again, and finds some kind of solid ground here of course,” Hobi throws it in, worried that your silence meant rejection.

“Oh…” you mumble, thinking to yourself for a moment. Hobi’s friend huh? Well you and Hobi were like two peas in a pod, meaning whoever was a friend of his, was a friend of yours, point blank. You trusted that whoever this friend was, and whatever predicament they were in, chose to go to Hobi for the sole reason that Hobi was one of, if not the kindest person you’ve ever met, and was one of the very rare kind of people who made sure that whatever it was a person was going through, that they found a way to overcome it. And well you also assume that Hobi was going to take care of this person’s expenses … right?

You smile once you reach a decision, “Of course they can stay Hobi,” you laugh, a little offended that he thought you’d say no, but glad that he asked anyway.

Immediately Hobi breathes a sigh of relief, glad that he got that out of the way, “But he’s using your bathroom, make sure you tell him that!” you throw in, not wanting the order in which you had your things arranged to be touched with.

Hobi laughs in response, “I’ll make sure to tell Jungkook that,” so that was his name, Jungkook. Not too much of a common name in Korea, interesting, you think.

“So when do I get to meet our new temporary roommate?” you ask in eagerness, curiosity a driving force.

Hobi sighs recalling his text from not too long ago, “Well he was supposed to come here and celebrate tonight, giving you two a chance to meet beforehand, but,” he rereads the message on his phone, hoping the three bubbles would pop up at some point before scoffing and ultimately giving up, locking the screen, “I’m not entirely too sure if he’s going to make it.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you get up from the bar stool and stretch out your arms, yawning in turn, “Mm well I guess I’ll just meet him on move in day,” you joke around, glancing at the time on your phone, “but for now I need to go pee before the countdown, there’s only like 10 minutes left,” you exclaim, surprised by how fast the hour had gone by. Hobi nods in response, getting up himself and making his way to the dance floor, joining your group of friends.

And so you begin to walk towards the ladies’ room, humming yourself a tune over the EDM music that was currently close to rupturing your eardrum. How people liked this kind of music was something you’d never understand, but to each their own right? Luckily you weren’t as drunk as you thought you were, the effects of the tequila only acting as something quick and not long lasting. Now in more of a buzzed state than “drunk”.

“MmmMmmMmm,” you hum, pushing the door of the ladies room and making your way into one of the stalls. But what you saw once you opened the restroom stall was … um …. it was safe to say that you were shocked at the sight in front of you. Shocked to the point where you couldn’t even properly react, not even a shriek coming out of your mouth. 

Instead you just stood there, wide eyed, at the sight of a brown haired woman on her knees, with her hair in a messy ponytail giving um … oral … on what you could only describe as a very very handsome man.

Now if you were to ask if he was really all that into it? Well it seemed a bit unclear considering how the two of you were now having a complete stare down, a shocked expression on your face while he had a stoic one on his, until slowly a small smirk began to appear on his face.

He scoffs before saying, “Enjoying the view?” and with that you finally shriek and quickly close the stall dorm, practically running out the door because not only were you embarrassed by the situation that just happened but still in complete shock.

“Oh my God,” you breathe out, leaning your head against the wall in an attempt to process what just happened. And once you did, you facepalmed yourself in frustration, mad at the reaction you had because God was that embarrassing. 

You had acted as if you’d never seen, hell, as if you’d never done the dirty with someone, but for some reason walking in on someone receiving their um... pleasure… had you feeling like a kid who didn’t know about the birds and the bees. And his little comment only added salt to the wound, he probably thought you were enjoying the view with how long you had stayed there standing like an idiot!

“Start grabbing your partners everyone because the countdown is happening in exactly three minutes everybody! Three minutes till we enter 2019!” Three minutes?! You had to find your friends quick! Pushing off what happened to the back of your mind, you speed walk back to the main sector of the club, looking through the crowd of people in hopes of finding at least one of your friends.

“Where could he b—Ah!” you impulsively squeal once you spot Hobi along with the rest of your friends, quickly making your way towards them, Hobi spotting you as well.

“There you are! What took you so long?” Hobi asks, but just as you’re about to answer, a voice from behind interrupts.

“I caught traffic, and well parking was a bitch,” the voice, all too familiar, sends a feeling of panic through your body because turning to face the owner of said voice, was just as surprising as the scene you walked in on only moments ago.

“Y/N! This is Jungkook, Jungkook this is Y/N, my roommate I was telling you about,” Hobi shouts over the music, and all you can do is stare at the man in front of you wide eyed. Your mouth slightly agape in shock, while Jungkook on the other hand has a teasing grin on his face, as only the two of you knew what had transpired in the ladies’ restroom. He sticks his hand out for you to shake and you notice the small number of tattoos that cover his hand.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we got one minute on the clock! Start saying your goodbyes to 2018, and get ready to say hello to 2019!” The DJ shouts excitedly, lowering the music for the countdown that’s about to begin.

“Earth to Y/N?” Hobi says waving his hand in front of you, having left Jungkook with his hand open for quite some time now.

“Oh,” you say, bringing yourself back to reality and shaking his hand in return, but the moment you do he brings you in for a small friendly hug, “What a small world,” he whispers into your ear, winking at you as he pulls away.

Hobi, unaware of how you two originally met, rolls his eyes, “Hey, hey hey, she’s our roommate not some girl you can go messing around with,” Hobi says, “Now come on you two, there’s only 15 seconds left!” gently he shoves the two of you towards your groups of friends who were now wearing their New Year’s props which included giant sunglasses, feathered boa’s, and more.

“In 10, 9, 8 , 7, 6…” everyone begins to scream the numbers of the countdown, 2018 clearly leaving with a bang, “5,4,3!” you suddenly feel an arm wrap over your shoulder, and like in the movies a part of you expected it to be the man you just met, but thankfully enough it was Jimin who was clearly drunk, excited, and in clear need of catching his balance. But of course that didn’t mean someone didn’t have their eyes on you from afar…

“2, 1! Happy New Year!” The fog machine erupts and the strings of golden confetti begin to fall from the club’s ceiling. Cheers to the New Year.

Clutching your stomachs in laughter, the two of you poke fun at the recollection of that fatal first encounter, “I really walked in on you getting,” you heave in such a way that you’re incapable of completing the sentence, genuine laughter filling the air.

“Hey, you were the one who stood there like you’d never seen a—” playfully you push his shoulder before even he gets the chance to finish his own sentence.

“Like what you see?” you exaggeratingly mimic his voice from that night, lowering your voice by several octaves. He cries out in laughter, tears now forming in the corners of his eyes, feeling cringe at his choice of words from a year ago today. Who did he think he was? “The woman didn’t even bother to look up! Clearly you had her enamored in what she was doing!” you tease, and in response he wraps his arms around you in a playful manner, telling you that he didn’t want to hear any more.

“What even happened when I left?” you ask, curious to know the answer considering you only knew what you did afterwards.

“Well I overheard the DJ yell about the countdown so I had to cut it short, and well we exchanged numbers. I mean it wasn’t at all a drunk hookup or anything, I was sober, she was sober. I think I went out with her once afterward, but,” he shrugs his shoulders, “It was just meant to be a one time thing I guess,” he mumbles, shaking his head in slight shame and embarrassment. See a year ago, hookups like that were the norm for him, but a year ago he was also nothing like the person he was now. Was it for the better? He’d like to think so.

Shaking your head, you mumble, “To think our relationship would only get worse,” you stare at him accusingly, “no thanks to you!” He stays silent, not bothering to deny the accusation.

“Hey you didn’t make it any easier!” he huffs, “Do you need help with that? What’s that? I don’t think that should be placed there,” he mocks your questions from that day many months ago, move in day.  

“I was just trying to be nice! Make things less awkward, you know?” you feel your cheeks get red, now seeing how pushy you had probably been.

He scoffs, “No you just didn’t want your things invaded with mine,” it was now your turn to stay silent.

“Mm,” you hum.

January 2019.

“I don’t think that should go there,” you whisper to Hobi, watching Jungkook place more of his things around your apartment, secretly hoping it was the last batch. 

This had to at least be your 15th complaint today, but what bothered Jungkook more was that not only wouldn’t you tell it to his face, but they’d be said in such a superficial tone. He didn’t care if you were trying to be “nice”, it sounded fake and prissy and he’d prefer it if you could just shut up for one moment. People like you were just so… annoying, and to think he thought you were cute.

“Do you need help?” your voice interrupts his train of thought, your figure now looming over his shoulder, and attempting to look at the content of his cardboard boxes. Harshly, he closes the flaps, momentarily scowling at you before taking a deep breath and putting on his best face.

“No it’s fine, I’m almost done but thank you though,” he says, now his turn to be superficial.

“Oh well just let me know if you need anything,” you smile, as unbeknownst to Jungkook, you really were just this nice of a person. Yeah, things may still be a little awkward on your part because of what happened on New Years Eve, you of course having to pep talk yourself several times in the mirror this morning, but to you it was important you established some kind of friendship with your new roommate. Even if he wasn’t going to be here for long.

“I’m gonna go get us takeout,” Hobi announces, not only tired but hungry from having helped Jungkook carry his stuff upstairs to the apartment floor all day, because out of all days in the year, today the elevator just had to be out of service. “I’ll be back,” he says, grabbing his keys from the counter and making his way out. Leaving you and Jungkook to yourselves.

An awkward silence fills the living room air, Jungkook currently taking a small break on the long couch, while you sit on the short one, fidgeting with your fingers. Maybe you should make conversation? It wouldn’t hurt right?  

“So Jungkook,” you begin nervously, he looks up from his phone and places his attention on you, a stoic expression on his face, “um..”, you mentally scold yourself for not already having a question prepared before speaking, “where are you from?”

Furrowing his eyebrows, he scoffs, “Korea?” he says, as if stating the obvious.

Feeling flustered, you reiterate your question, “No I mean like where did you move from, you know…” your voice lowers at the end.

He sighs before responding, his attention now back on his phone, “I was in the states for a while, but I’m originally from Busan.”

Immediately you light up, seeing this as an opportunity to further the conversation, “Oh I have a friend from there, I don’t know if you met him on New Years, but his name is Jimin!” you excitedly ramble, “He was the one with the dirty blonde hair, black turtleneck, sparkly jac—”

“Yeah I know,” Jungkook rudely interrupts, now getting up from the couch and walking towards his new room, “Let me know when Hobi’s back, yeah? I’m freaking starving,” and with that he enters his room and shuts the door, leaving you slightly taken back.  

“Will do,” you quietly mumble to yourself, a little hurt to say the least by his cold action. Shrugging it off, you excuse it by assuming he was just grumpy. You were sure that he'd be more open to having conversation after settling his things in.

That night after cleaning a couple of your own things, and eating the food Hobi had brought, you remained in bed and on your laptop, Youtube surfing the rest of the night away. That was of course until you heard the sound of your restroom door opening and closing. Right away you get up, already knowing what transpired, but wanting to see the mess that was most likely made with your own two eyes.

Walking into your restroom, you’re immediately hit with the scent of your strawberry shampoo and lavender body wash mixed in with the foggy steam that was created, a result of an extremely hot shower. The sink, a travesty to look at, was spilled with water all over and you did not even want to get started on the “manly” products that were now side to side with yours behind the mirror’s cabinet. Meanwhile, your hair brush was covered in strands of dark brown hair that clearly weren’t yours. But the final straw? Finding the cap of your $100 dollar serum halfly screwed closed with remnants dripping down the bottle.

Shutting the cabinet, you practically stomp out of your restroom and immediately towards Jungkook’s door. Raising your hand to knock, you take in a deep breath, reminding yourself to be calm. Maybe Hobi didn’t tell him anything about using your restroom. This was only going to be a one time thing until you cleared it out with him.

Gently, you knock on his door, patiently awaiting his response. You could hear the sound of muffled music playing in the background, meaning it was probably much louder inside the room than out. Raising your hand to knock again, the door swings open just as you’re about to tap against the black wooden door. A shirtless Jungkook with your baby blue towel wrapped around his waist.

“Yes?” he smugly says, your cheeks almost an embarrassing shade of crimson. It’s hard to not look at what’s in front of you, but you manage.

“Oh um—” you fluster your words, “um —” you gulp before finding your words again, “I was hoping Hobi had told you about the bathroom situation…but um..I guess he didn’t so um yeah, my bathroom is only for me to us—”

“He did,” he cuts you off,  huffing a small laugh.

“He what?” you asked, unsure of what he was referring to, or at least acting dense about it because you did not want to believe that the shirtless boy in front of you completely disregarded the simple rule he was supposed to follow.

“He told me about the whole bathroom rearrangement, buuuuttt,” he teases, “your restroom has the bigger shower and well add strawberry scented shampoo and lavender body wash into the mix and honestly it was a done deal for me,” he stretches his arms above himself, dramatically yawning, his abdomen stretching out in such a way that the towel on his waist was barely clinging onto its dear life.

“But—But—”

“But what?” he cocks his head to the side, amused by your panicked behavior, “It’s also the closest one to me so,” he shrugs his shoulders, “Well if that’s all you came here for then, goodnight,” he winks at you before turning around and slamming the door once again.

You stand there bewildered by what just happened, your mouth agape in shock. Did that really just happen or? Because if it did then he practically just told you that he didn’t give one single fuck.

Making your way back to your room, you’re unsure on how to feel about everything that just happened because sure you’ve encountered your fair share of rude people before but to live with one was a completely different story. And Jungkook wasn’t only rude, he was the smug kind, the “I know I’m good looking, so I can treat anyone the way I want to because my good looks will let me get away with it,” type of rude. Was it a little specific? Yes. But it’s true. Honestly, it was the type of person you thought only existed in rom-coms but clearly they exist in real life. Jungkook being a prime example of such an attitude.

“Just a couple of months,” you breathe out, throwing yourself onto your bed in exasperation, “until he gets settled down in Seoul,” you repeat Hobi’s words from New Years Eve to yourself, sighing before allowing slumber to sweep over you.  

“So much for a couple of months,” you tease Jungkook, nudging his shoulder a little bit because a year later and he was still your roommate, and ironically it was you and Hobi who practically begged him to stay.

He scrunches his nose, “ I don’t see you complaining.”

You raise your hands in defense, “I’m just kiddinnn,” you sing, “What would I do without your buttermilk pancakes huh?” you grin at him, his eyes rolling playfully in return.

“Is that all you want from me? Pancakes!” he chuckles, “Ah I should’ve known,” he shakes his head. The two of you giggle at each other’s banter, his high pitched laugh truly infectious.

“What do you think y/n and Jungkook from the beginning of 2019 would think of this scene right now?” you ask, knowing the answer.

Jungkook ponders at the question for a moment before letting out a deep breath and answering, “Mm I think they’d have a hard time believing what’s in front of them, at least I would. I think you would be happy to see that your goal in becoming friends with your new roommate worked out just fine. It just took a bit of time was all…”

February 2019.

To say that you were struggling to live with Jungkook would probably be the biggest understatement of the year. From the constant use of your things without permission, to the blatant rude remarks he’d constantly throw at you, to the days where he’d be completely cold to you and the rest of the world, and don’t even let you get started on the constant women he’d bring over. You’d have to invest in some ear plugs soon if it kept going at the rate it was because at this point you knew Jungkook liked it um … rough … so to speak.  

You found yourself asking Hobi, “Has he settled down yet?” wayyyy too often. Sometimes it felt like Jungkook was purposely baiting you to stoop to his level, like as if he was itching to play a game of cat and mouse. And so for you to continuously suck it up and put on a fake smile for him, only made him do more things to bother you. 

He was like a mosquito pestering you at the back of your neck. He wouldn’t stop until he got his fangs, or whatever it was that mosquitos used to bite, into you. For what reason? You truly did not know, for you have been nothing but nice to him since the day he moved in.

You often wondered how Hobi could put up with it, you mean Jungkook wasn’t exactly mean to Hobi, but he did throw remarks and eye rolls here and there. The best way to describe it was that Jungkook was treating you two like punching bags, and a part of you wanted to know why? Not only why, but where? Where is Jungkook from? Why was he in the states? What made him come back? Why can’t he go back to Busan? Does he have family? How does Hobi even know the dude? Why does Jungkook wake up with a stick up his ass every morning? Why was Jungkook angry at the world and when did he decide that he was going to take it out on you two, especially you. Honestly you were unsure if you’d ever get answers to your questions, but it wouldn’t matter in a couple of weeks when he was gone, right?

Luckily though the only times you really did see Jungkook was on weekends, and even then if you weren’t out doing some nightly festivities then he was. Or while you went grocery shopping he was working out or something, Not to mention that weekdays you worked AM shifts at your job while Jungkook, who had been hooked up with a job at one of the coffee shop’s Hobi managed, worked afternoon to night shifts. 

This meant that whenever you were going to work, Jungkook was catching up on his sleep and vice versa. But occasionally when you two did bump paths, let’s say going to your restroom, he definitely used those opportunities to try and get under your skin. Each and every time, failing to do so.

But today something was different. You weren’t sure if it was because as you were driving to work, coffee spilled onto your shirt at a speed bump because someone stole your favorite coffee thermo which had a securable lid. This then caused you to be 30 minutes late which then resulted in you receiving your first ever official warning. Or maybe it was because you had to not only stay an extra 30 minutes, but an extra hour because someone’s late night hook up the night prior kept you up and completely unfocused. You personally had chosen to go to sleep than stay up and listen to some girl screaming about how much deeper she wanted it while trying to type up your monthly report. And then of course who could forget the cherry on top? Coming back home to that same certain someone, and having to deal with the accusations that you stole his banana milk.

“I didn’t steal anything,” you mumble, warming up the japchae Hobi had left for you on the stove. Jungkook gets up and opens the fridge door, dramatically showing you the empty spot where his banana milk was usually at.

“Well someone did, and Hobi says it wasn’t him and well I trust Hobi so,” Jungkook shrugs, looking at you with a deadpan look on his face. Sadly, Hobi probably asleep already, tired from what you assumed was a long day of work and the thing about Hobi was once he went to sleep there was no waking him up. That boy could sleep through the world ending, “I don’t exactly think it’s beneath you to steal my things…” he says, each one of his words dripping with venom.

You?! Stealing his things?! When he’s the one who's been taking your things left and right?? If he had caught you on any other day, you probably would’ve shrugged his accusations off, hell you might’ve even taken the blame and offer to buy him a new pack. But right now, you could feel your blood almost boiling. How dare he!

“I,” your voice rises, completely ready to go off on the boy, until you hear a door slam, Hobi coming out completely groggy and clearly annoyed.

“Will you two just,” his voice is heavy, sighing in frustration, “Y/N just go and eat in your room,” he says, feeling like a parent to two fighting siblings.

“But—” you’re about to fight your case, until Hobi interrupts.

“Y/N…” he looks at you in despair, his tone a clear indicator that he wasn’t mad, he wasn’t annoyed, he was just tired. You grab your food from the stove, having to pass by Jungkook as you leave the kitchen.

“Was little miss saccharine finally going to pop?” he scoffs, the two of you momentarily having a stare down, until quickly you compose yourself, the fake smile he knew all too well back on your face.

“Goodnight Jungkook,” you say, before making your way back into your room, peeved that Hobi scolded you and not Jungkook, that was until you heard the sound of muffled voices through your closed door. 

If you wanted to get a better listen you were going to have to crack open the door without making a single sound, something that would be embarrassing if you managed to fail. Deciding that you were too nosy for your own good, you thankfully succeed in doing so, their voices sounding much clearer to your ears.    

“You know she’s having a bad day, and yet—” you hear the sound of Hobi flapping his arms in despair, “and yet you still make her your target of the day,” he says.

“What are you talking about?” Jungkook asks, his voice telling you that he was ready to go on the defense.

“Jungkook let’s not act dense,” Hobi says, “What are we in preschool? You have some crush, and think being mean will get you your way with her?” Hobi accuses, which Jungkook immediately denies.

“She wishes,” he mumbles in return, “I treat her like I treat everyone,” he clarifies, almost sounding proud.

“No you treat her worse,” Hobi adds, “if you’re not giving her some backhanded compliment then you’re completely giving her the cold shoulder. I probably only get half of what she does, and even I’m getting fed up with it, so I could only imagine how she feels,” he sighs, “but Y/N is a very very nice person, and since that first day I met her in till even today, I have never seen her get mad at anyone, but you my friend are,” he pauses, trying to think of the best way to describe it, “well you’re pushing buttons that I’ve never seen pushed.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Yeah because her whole act of “I’m miss goody two shoes and can never even hurt a fly” act is such bullshit,” he drops his air quotes, “a grown ass woman acting like telling someone off will add some kind of dent to the image I’m sure has taken her a very long time to build.”

With every word he says, you could feel your stomach drop further and further down. The lump in your throat desperate to be let out. “She probably has you and the rest of the world fooled, but I can see right through it. It’s people like her who will lie to your face, and tell you everything you want to hear because they don’t want to be painted out as some bad guy. And let me tell you people like that are much worse than me because at least I have the balls to tell it like it is to someone’s face rather than protect my own ego, ” he finishes his rant, the veins on his neck faintly popping.

Hobi remains silent for a moment, taking in everything Jungkook said, then pushing his hair back with his hand, an indicator that he was stressed, “Look man, I’m letting you stay here so you can get back on your feet, and because you didn’t want go back to Busan,” he sighs, knowing he’s stepping on broken glass, “I don’t know what happened over there in the states, and I’m not gonna ask about it because I’m sure you’ll talk about it the day you’re ready to,” he pauses, “But what I do know is that you’re right, Y/N does fake her persona from time to time…” you feel your heart drop, while Jungkook’s face goes smug. That is until Hobi continued with what he was saying, “But the same way I’m not gonna ask you about why you came back to Korea a completely cold person, I’m not gonna question why she acts the way it does, especially because it's not hurting anyone.”

“Of course you wo—”

Hobi cuts him off before he can continue, “Let me finish,” he sternly says, his brows knitted, “But as long she keeps letting her feelings build up the way I’m assuming they are, and you keep acting the way you are now then—” he sighs, “There’s going to be a day where the water in the pot is going to boil over and well I don’t wanna be here when it happens,” his presses his lips together, shaking his head at the mere idea, “All I ask for Jungkook is that you try to be a little nicer to her, just for once. I think the two of you would actually be pleasantly surprised at how much in common you have,” Jungkook tries his best to bite his tongue, seeing just how tired his friend looked, “Maybe not even nice to her, just decent. Can you do me that favor?”

Jungkooks lets out a huff of air before silently nodding his head yes, Hobi giving him a small smile in return, “Thanks Jungkook, now I can actually go to sleep instead of hearing you two bicker,” he says before tapping on his shoulder and going back into his room. You, on the other hand, quickly wipe any droplets that fall from your eyes, closing the door before Hobi could notice the crack that was there.

Jungkook sits in the kitchen chair for a while, reflecting on the lecture Hobi just gave him. Hating that the feeling of guilt was beginning to seep in because unlike Hobi, before his little lecture, Jungkook knew that there had been a pair of ears listening in and he knew you could hear every word that came out of his mouth as your little attempt to crack open the door wasn’t as slick as you thought it was ….he just hadn’t cared.

“Just be decent,” Jungkook whispers to himself before turning off the kitchen lights and heading to bed. The two of you lying in your own beds at night, a lot on each other's mind.

“And to think Hobi ended up predicting everything that was going to happen,” Jungkook shakes his head, remembering his friend’s warning to him.

“That’s our Hobi,” you laugh, “always one step ahead, well when he wants to be of course,” you add, a small chuckle coming out of Jungkook’s mouth in response.

“You think he knew what he was doing the whole time?” Jungkook asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Like in terms of allowing everything to play out, you know? Because if he wanted to he could’ve kicked me out from the beginning…” you ponder on his question for a bit, thinking back to Hobi’s role in this whole tale.

“Mm I think he knew but was probably unsure the whole time, you know? Unsure if things would work out the way he set em up to be, I don’t know if he’ll ever tell us but…” you pause, “I think he knew what he was doing from the moment he told you that you could live with us, and I definitely think it was bullshit on his part when he said that he didn’t know what happened to you in the states,” you laugh because you could picture Hobi doing his own research on Google late at night, “So I guess he just knew that there were two people in his life in desperate need of a…” you look for the right word to describe it.

“Reality check?” Jungkook fills in for you, but you shake your head no.

“Mm,” you hum, “No, I dont think thats the way to put it, hmm, how about this…” you pause one last time before continuing, wanting to make sure you said everything correctly, “Hobi had two pieces to a puzzle that needed to connect together in order to complete said puzzle, but after lots of tosses and turns in their box well the two pieces just didn’t fit together anymore. In fact they refused to even try and fit with another, deciding that they were going to live with their new flaps and dents, and ignoring the fact that in order to complete the puzzle they needed to come together,” you let out a small laugh, “and so Hobi took a gamble, and decided to leave the pieces alone for the time being, in hopes that maybe, just maybe with a little bit more tosses and turns they’d realize that by coming together they’d be left with nothing but a beautiful image to show,” a warm smile appears on your face, “Yeah I think I like how that sounds, what do you think?” you turn to face Jungkook who was staring at you with his doe-eyed expression, completely speechless.

“Or was I too wordy?” you laugh, “I reached didn’t I?” you begin to ramble, “Ah I really need to—” suddenly you feel a cold finger pressed against your lips, Jungkook sounding a tiny “shh” soon after.

“I think it was perfect,” Jungkook softly whispers, what could only be described as a loving smile on his face. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, feeling your cold face get warmed up due to the heat that was rising from your cheeks. Reminding you of a memory from only months ago…

March 2019.

“Remind me why I’m going again?” you walk out of the hallway and into the living room, heels clicking against the wooden floor.

“Because you are tonight’s designated driver,” Hobi reminds you, “and well we all don’t fit in Seokjin’s mini cooper so there’s that,” he laughs. You sigh in return, looking at your reflection for the 100th time tonight. “Jungkook, you almost ready?” Hobi shouts from the living room, not keen on his friend’s habit of always getting ready at the last minute.

Tonight was one of, if not the only, rare occasions that both you and Jungkook would be at an outing together, and even then Hobi was always with you two, acting as the facilitator. Jungkook and you usually parted your separate ways the moment you’d arrive somewhere, especially at parties. And so today you didn’t really expect anything different. 

It had been about a month since Hobi’s little lecture to Jungkook, and in a way it did have some kind of positive effect on Jungkook. These days he was now much more quiet and reserved, and honestly you preferred the cold shoulder over the constant attitude so you were definitely not complaining.

You were even surprised this morning when you found your bathroom products to be completely replaced by new bottles, including your serum! Of course they had been slightly used, meaning Jungkook wasn’t going to let go of his grip on them just yet, but at least it meant that he had the decency to realize that if he was going to be using them all the time, then it was only right that he occasionally paid for them. 

Even last week when you heard him mumble a small, “that was good, thank you,” after making gyeran-mari’s for breakfast, you had to look at Hobi for confirmation that it really happened. Hell, he had even stopped constantly bringing women over, instead beginning to work out more often as you would now hear his grunts come from doing sit ups than from doing um… yeah. It looked like he even had a knack for boxing because you soon noticed how he’d come back home with hands wrapped in bandages or his gloves stringing along his duffel bag. Honestly, it was a little hot, but you’d rather die before admitting that to anyone.

“Ah I’m done, I’m done,” a voice comes out the hallway, Jungkook balancing on his right foot in a rush to put on his left shoe. Tonight he was dressed a little differently than his usual self, replacing his usual black attire and black combat boots for a more club friendly look of ripped blue jeans, black ankle boots, and a black fitted t-shirt. Of course not straying too far from his personal style. The new tattoo he had gotten recently was also in clear view tonight, his sleeve coming along quite nice in your opinion. He had recently even gotten his hair permed, allowing it to grow out longer than what you were used to seeing. It was crazy what a difference hair could make because it definitely made him look … better, in your eyes at least. 

All this change on his part, honestly made you feel a little dull, but that’d be something to dwell on for another day. For now, you just wanted to get tonight over with. The faster you got there, the quicker you could leave, and the earlier you could be in bed.  

“You took a whole ass hour for this?” Hobi eyes Jungkook up and down. Jungkook is quick to shoot him an offended look, while you on the other hand are struggling to suppress a laugh, “I’m not saying you look bad, in fact you look amazing, but this should not take you an hour!” Jungkook rolls his eyes, combing a hand through his hair.

“Are we going to get going or what?” he says, his cheeks tinged pink in embarrassment.

Once you all arrived, you were quick to meet up with the rest of your friends, everyone having pitched in for bottle service. Jungkook, who had become pretty cool with the rest of everyone, sat between Yoongi and Namjoon, all three of them laughing at God knows what. The bottle they had bought almost halfway done. 

You on the other hand, were just watching everyone, the only person besides yourself who wasn’t drunk was Seokjin, and even then he was too busy with his new girlfriend to pay you any attention. Not that you really minded considering she really was a kind person and well who could blame Seokjin for being head over heels. They even shared the same humor, something that was quite rare to find.

You weren’t sure if it was because tonight the club seemed extra packed, or maybe the dress you were wearing was feeling a little too tight or maybe it was the stench of all alcohol getting to you but something definitely fell off. And you did not like it one bit.

“Hey I’m gonna go out back and get some fresh air outside,” you tell Hobi over the music, giving you a small nod in acknowledgement, the boy was clearly very drunk. The moment you stepped out, you definitely did feel better, the crispy fresh air outside almost making you feel as if you were breathing for the first time. That was until you heard the sound of someone arguing.

“I saw you dancing with her! Stop trying to gaslight me into thinking you weren’t!” a woman screams, very much in distress by who you assumed was her boyfriend, “God, I knew I should’ve listened to my mom, you are a pig! And I deserve a man who's going to—

“What did you just say?” he grabs her by the arm, his atrocious grip surely going to cause her a bruise later on.

“Let go of me!” she cries, as he then grabs her by the hair, ready to toss her to the floor and do whatever else he wanted to do with her. You feel your breathing become heavier, watching the scene unfold in front of you, unsure of what to do. You were scared and you didn’t know how to defend yourself, let alone someone else. But you also knew that God forbid you were ever in that situation, you wouldn't want someone turning a blind eye on you, so you did what was only right.

“Hey!” you scream while walking towards the couple, catching the man’s attention, “Let go of her before I—”

“Before you what?” he lets go of her hair, now walking towards you as well. The woman watches you with shaky eyes, having never guessed that her savior would be a woman in black string heels and a face that for the most part was not at all intimidating.

You reach into your purse, hoping to get a feel for either your taser or pocket knife, but of course, of fucking course, on all days of the year it was no where to be found. Nonetheless, you muster up your courage and respond, “Before I call security,” you say, trying your best to sound confident.

He laughs, dramatically looking around to show you that no one around was here to help, “Anyone ever teach you to mind your fucking business, like how a woman should,” you gulp, almost losing balance while taking a step back as he only gets closer, “Huh?! Anyone every fucking teach you that?” he closes in on you, your back soon hitting the wall that was behind you.

“Just leave her alone!” the woman screams in hysteria.

“You stay the fuck out of it! You’re the whole reason she’s in this mess,” he mutters, his words completely slurred and his breath reeking like alcohol. You almost feel like vomiting at the accidental whiff you take because wow was this man just disgusting.

“See maybe if you would’ve just gone about your day, you wouldn’t be here right now,” he makes a ticking sound with his mouth, mocking you, “but” he sighs, “I guess whores just have to stick with each other, huh?” he grabs you by the scalp of your hair, this time not hesitating to throw you to the ground.

“Oh my—” the woman screams, panic flowing through her veins.

“Go!” you yell at her, giving her the chance to escape even if it meant sacrificing your own wellbeing. She hesitates for a moment before running, the sound of her heels tapping against the pavement was one of the last things you could hear before the ringing in your ears became all too much. 

You look at your hands for a moment, the stinging feeling almost unbearable as they had taken most of the impact of the fall, along with your knees. A part of you hoped he had left, that he had somehow magically disappeared or that you’d wake up to find that this was nothing more than a nightmare. But it wasn’t until you felt the grip of his hand on your hair again, that you’d come to realize the reality of your situation and that there was absolutely no one to help you.

The man lifts up his free hand, building power for the punch he was preparing to throw, as you could only throw your arms in front yourself in an attempt to minimize the impact of the punch. By now tears were falling from freely your eyes, small whimpers and sniffles coming out of fear. The final words you hear being spat from his mouth were, “you stupid bitch,” and in your head you count to three, waiting for the feeling of his fist against your face. But it never came.

Instead you feel the release of his hand on your scalp, and when you open your eyes you find him on the ground, not completely knocked out but he might as well be with just how out of it he looked. And though you weren’t drunk, you almost felt as if you were because absolutely everything around you was overlapping, hardly able to see anything in clear focus. But what you could make out was that there was a figure, and by the build you assume was a man, now sitting over the drunkard, throwing several punches at him. His goal was either to knock the man out or make sure he suffered every way possible before knocking him out.  

You stand there for a moment in shock as you hear the person’s voice, a voice that was all too familiar, “I dare you to fucking lay a hand on her again, I fucking dare you!” Jungkook yells, throwing another punch at the man, “Who the fuck do you think you are?” slowly your vision becomes clearer as you wipe away the tears that had been blocking your vision, and soon you realize if Jungkook kept going at the rate he was, the man was going to be killed.

Quickly you run towards Jungkook, attempting to grab his right arm before he swings again, “Jungkook stop!” you yell, but instead he pushes your arm away, too caught up in his rage to think straight. The drunk man looked as if he was barely holding on, blood now all over his face. “I said stop!” you yell at the top of your lungs, the veins on your neck popping. Jungkook, panting, looks up at you, momentarily stopping. “Just stop,” you cry, wanting this nightmare to be over.

Jungkook looks at the barely conscious man one more time, pulling him by the collar of his shirt so that he’d get a good look of him, “If I ever see you again, I won’t hesitate to—”

“Jungkook,” you stop him from finishing his sentence.

He sighs, “Just be glad she’s here because scum like you deserve to fucking rot,” he says, letting go of the man’s collar and allowing his head to hit the pavement. He gets up from his position and begins to pat his black shirt of any dirt, catching his breath along the way. “You okay?” he asks, intensely staring at you.

But before you could respond, a voice screams, “Hey!” the two of you look up at said voice, only to find a security guard with a flashlight in his hand and his walky talky on the other.

Jungkook quickly grabs you by the hand, causing you to wince at the sudden touch, “Come on,”  he says, pulling you to follow him.

He leads you back to the parking lot, confusion evidently on your face. It wasn’t until you turned back to find several security guards following after you that everything began to click together, panic now flowing through your veins. Hurriedly, you grab Hobi’s keys from your purse and unlock the door, your heart beating out of your chest.

Jungkook quickly hops in the passenger seat, his head throbbing from the amount of drinks he’s had, watching as you struggle to put the key in the ignition, clearly in a state of anxiousness. He yanks the keys from your hands and places them in himself, “Now drive!” he shouts, causing you to step ferociously on the gas pedal. Burning tire as you race off the parking lot.  

“God my head is fucking killing me,” Jungkook complains, his blood stained hands resting on his temple. By now the two of you were heading back home, Jungkook having texted Hobi through your phone that he was going to have to get a ride from Seokjin. For the situation you two were just in had required an immediate escape.

You on the other hand were driving in complete silence, still in a state of shock of what just happened. Jungkook having to constantly remind you that you were driving, several instances of you zoning out at a stop light happening way too often for his liking.

“I am way too drunk for this shit,” he mutters under his breath, the reality of what just happened beginning to kick in. The queasy feeling in his stomach became more and more unbearable with every turn you took. And don’t even get him started on his throat, which was currently as dry as the Sahara Desert. “Is there some kind of water in this car?” he asks, beginning to look through the car console and glove compartment.

“I don’t,” you pause and sigh, “I don’t know.”

“Then pull over here,” he deadpans.

You furrow your brows in confusion, “What?”

“Pull over,” he repeats, his patience running out.

Not questioning him a second time, you do exactly that, pulling over at the side of some park near your apartment. Jungkook takes in a deep breath before opening the door and sticking his head out, seconds later the sound of him vomiting making you feel as queasy as he did.

“Oh God,” you mumble to yourself, just wanting to be in bed already. But of course that wasn’t going to happen because soon enough Jungkook was getting out of the car and going to God knows where. “Where are you going?” you shout, as he walks towards the park.

“I need water,” he says, “You coming or what?” you contemplate on whether to follow him or not, before ultimately exiting the car and locking it. With the way he was stumbling his footsteps, it was better safe than sorry to follow him.

“BogoShipda!” Jungkook sings loudly to the trees in the park, all of the alcohol he drank at the club still running through his system. You stare at him in surprise, having never seen him act like this before, as he continues to sing.

“Now where’s a water fountain when you need one,” he mumbles, the darkness of the night sky making it hard for him to scan his surrounding area. You found yourself feeling a little scared in fact. The silhouette of the trees and the sound of the wind softly pushing against the branches only making the atmosphere more scary.

“Ah there it is!” Jungkook slurs his words, sounding like a kid at a carnival. Once he’s in front of the fountain, he pushes against the button, the water sprouting out of the fountainhead. You stare at him in silence as he hadn’t crouched down to drink yet, thus confusing you.

It wasn’t until you felt a tug at your hand and the sting of the water hitting against your scrapes that you felt like punching him. “What are you doing?” you ask, trying your best not to sound too peeved.

He looks at you before rolling his eyes, “What do you think I’m doing? I’m cleaning your hands,” he signals for you to give him your other hand, and without thinking you comply.

“I could’ve done this at home,” you say.

“I know, but the longer we wait the higher chance it'll end up getting infected by dirt so,” he looks at you with a know it all expression, and you mumble a small “I guess,” under your breath, the stinging sensation soon enough replaced by a cool one, your hands no longer feeling as rusty.

It isn’t until he’s finished that he takes a sip of water, exhaling a small “ahh” sound after downing several gulps. “Come on,” he grabs your hand again, leading you to a park bench with a small lamppost right next to it, providing a smooth yellow dim light.

“Why are we—”

“I just want to sit for a moment without the movement of a car, just for a bit,” he exhales a heavy breath, manspreading on the bench and throwing his head back, “just for a bit,” he repeats, his voice soft.

The two of you sit there in silence, “Why are you staring at me?” he asks with his eyes closed, feeling your intense stare.  

“I’m not—I’m not staring,” you stutter, he hums in response. Silence fills the air again, until Jungkook mumbles something that at first is inaudible.

“What?” you ask.

“I said I’m ˢᵒʳʳʸ,” you look at him confused, were you hearing him correctly?

“Wait what?” you ask again, it wasn’t your intention to come off as pushy nor pretentious but you were just seriously surprised as to what you were hearing.

He grumbles before repeating himself, “I said,” he drops his shoulders, “I said I’m sorry.” He opens his eyes to look at you, his usual smug behavior nowhere to be found on his face, he was being completely serious.

“Oh…” you pause for a moment before continuing, “Can I ask for what? I’m not trying to be mean or anything or act dense. I seriously just don’t know why,” you make sure you add those claims at the end, feeling as if you were walking on eggshells.

He looks at you momentarily before placing his view on the trees in front of you, “For not getting there earlier,” he mutters, as if disappointed with himself, “I went out because Hobi had told me to go check up on you, but,” he stays silent for a moment before continuing, clenching his jaw, “at first I sorta shrugged him off when he asked me, it wasn’t until he asked me second time that I actually went outside,” his voice shakes a bit and you notice that his eyes become slightly glossy, “and then a woman came running up to me rambling about someone about to get beaten up, but the last person I thought she was talking about was you,” he exhales loudly before continuing, trying his best to maintain his composure, “but either way I ran towards wherever she was pointing at, and that’s when I saw you on the floor,” his voice cracks, “and I just keep replaying everything in my head, and I just—” he closes his eyes and shakes his head, “I’m just sorry and I felt like you deserved to know that,” he concludes, a tear falling from his face.

And maybe it was because he was drunk, or maybe he just really did feel bad, but to see Jungkook this vulnerable was different to say the least. It was almost humanizing in some aspects.

Jungkook expected you to scream at him, to tell him that it was his fault you were put in that situation. That he could’ve prevented it from happening, that because of him you almost got beat to a bloody pulp.

No, in fact he doesn't expect you to, he wants you to. It’s what he deserves to hear from you. Had it not been for him and his ego, he would’ve gone out there the moment Hobi had asked him to, and you would’ve never had to deal with that drunk excuse of a human being to begin with. Or was the alcohol in his system just seriously getting to him because God did he feel sick.

“Jungkook it’s not your fault,” you begin, but Jungkook who's still looking at the trees, refuses to make eye contact. “Hey look at me,” you demand, tugging his hand in an effort to get him to look at you. When he does so, you continue, “That man was going to attack me whether you came or not because a weak man like that will attack the easiest target,” you state, a small chuckle escaping your lips, “It was no one’s fault but his, you hear me?” you squeeze his hand, “Not yours, not mine, not Hobi’s, not the lady, no one. Absolutely no one.”

More tears begin to fall from his bloodshot eyes, “You don’t get it y/n,” he shakes his head, “You don’t what that man could’ve done to you in that time I wasn’t there, you could’ve been killed for God’s sake,” he attempts to say it firmly, but his voice betrays him by whimpering in the end.

“But he didn’t!” you say, and without thinking you place his hand on your cheek, “I’m right here look! All because of you! Yeah you didn’t get there as early as you wished you could’ve, but you got there nonetheless! And if you hadn’t I probably would be sporting a big old black eye on my face and have one cheek bigger than the other right now. I’d look like one of those chipmunks from Alvin and the Chipmunks!” you laugh at your own joke, and for the first time ever, Jungkook laughs with you. His last first starting off as a small chuckle but the harder you laughed, the harder he did. The beginning to what would be you always hearing his high pitched laugh around the apartment, but let’s not get too far ahead right now.

They say when a human is drunk, they muster up the courage to do something they’d never do sober, but have always thought of doing in the back of their mind. It was often why people would blame a bold text to an ex on being “drunk” despite not taking one sip of their tequila shot, or why some people would excuse cheating on being “drunk” despite knowing it was something they wanted to do for a very long time. They were looking for an excuse to finally do it. And so now sitting here, with his hand caressed across your face, goofy grins plastered on your faces, he felt tempted to just kiss you.

It was weird really, yeah he thought you were cute, in fact there were days he’d found you hot, but anything past physical attraction had never really crossed his mind. To him, you’d always been and currently were his roommate who he found both superficial and performative. 

The one who once attempted to hide her strawberry scented shampoo in her room during work, in hopes that he wouldn’t go out of his way to find it. The one who liked her jjolmyeon more on the sour side than the sweet. The one who occasionally made him coffee and breakfast in the mornings, despite him being asleep after a long night of work of barristering. The one who for some odd reason almost never watched Netflix on the TV, but instead would watch it on her laptop on the couch, thus rendering the TV completely useless.

And so to be here, finally appreciating the person that you were after what could’ve been a near-death experience was a bit of a wake up call. And yeah like you said, maybe he didn’t get here as early as he should’ve been, but he got here nonetheless. He smiles to himself, your words having a double meaning behind them.

But for now he wanted to preserve this feeling, because he knew he was drunk. He was so drunk that the tree behind you was beginning to look like it was moving towards him. And so rather than kiss you, he instead decides to simply tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, deciding that if he felt like this tomorrow morning when he was sober then it’d be something worth looking into.

“I’m telling you, if I ever see that man again—”

“It was like,” you count on your fingers, “9 months ago Jungkook, I doubt you even remember his face,” you cut off, patting his shoulder.

“Mm,” he hums, “you’d be surprised how good I am at remembering faces, so when I tell you I’m still waiting for the day I come across him again, I mean it!” you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you sing,  “Hey at least something good came out of it,” you smile.

Jungkook looks at you with uncertainty, “Which is?”

Your small smile then becomes a toothy grin, “We became friends!” you exclaim excitedly, “temporarily at least,” you laugh.

April 2019.

It had been about two weeks since the incident at the club. Jungkook having completely avoided you since, and no you weren’t paranoid because originally you thought you were. It first started off with you not seeing him at all around the apartment, which you excused with you two having different work schedules like always. But then you’d notice he wouldn’t even drink the coffee you would make for him in the morning, it being left there on the counter for the entire day. 

And in the very rare moments you did manage to get a glimpse of him in the hallway either entering or exiting his room, the boy would completely avoid eye contact with you! But the final confirmation that told you he was avoiding you? He had bought his own shampoo and body wash for himself! Not just any kind, he bought an extra lather version of your own with exfoliating properties. And you didn’t if you could use it or not because, well because he was avoiding you! 

It wasn’t like you two kissed or anything! The most that happened was that you two shared a laugh! So then why was he avoiding you like the freaking plague? After a week of thinking about every possible reason he could be, you had given up. You’d accepted that you were back at square one with him, but it wasn’t like you were ever at square two to begin with. And so that’s why yesterday when Hobi told you he’d be going on a morning/afternoon hike trip on Saturday with Namjoon, you were skeptical on how Jungkook would manage to avoid you.

It was also why this morning in bed, when you heard what sounded like furniture being moved at 7 in the freaking morning, you were unsure about getting up and saying something or remaining in bed. Luckily you didn’t have to think about it for too long because you soon heard the sound footsteps coming closer to your bedroom door. As a result, you quickly threw yourself under the covers and pretended to be asleep.

It definitely had to be Jungkook who had just entered your room, the heavy footsteps acting as a signal to you that it was. Your eyes widen when you hear the sound of your drawer being pulled open, “What the hell did he think he was doing? Should you turn around and scare him? Hmm. No,” you think to yourself because soon enough you felt a hand gently shake your body.

“Y/N,”  he whispers, clearly in belief that you were asleep. You let him shake you around a little more, just to make your little “I’m just waking up” act a little more believable, “Y/N,” he repeats, and this time you begin to make groggy sounds. Actress of the Year Award : Check.

“Mm,” you hum, but you’re quickly jolted awake when you feel your covers get pulled off of you, “What are you—” you look up at Jungkook, who was dressed in complete workout gear. But what really had you concerned, was the workout clothing he had folded in his hands because well they were yours.

He tosses the matching pair of black leggings and sports bra, “Go change,” he sternly says, only causing you to look at him in further confusion.

“B-b-but-” Jungkook knows you’re about to not only complain, but ask many many questions. Because that’s just the type of person you are.

“Hobi told me you like buttermilk pancakes with extra syrup, but that since yours always come out burnt and his come out too dull, that the only time you get to eat them is if you go to a breakfast restaurant,” you narrow your eyes at him, confused as to where this was leading to, “Well at the coffee shop I work at, we have a weekly Pancake Tuesday and well let’s just say a certain someone has been rated top pancake maker for 2 months now,” you quirk your brow in interest, continuing to listen, a smirk now on his face, “and let’s also say this certain someone has a stack of warm pancakes sitting there on the kitchen island, untouched and certainly uneaten.”

You quickly smile at what he was insinuating, “BUT you can only eat them if you get up, get ready and change in 5 minutes,” he looks at the clock, “starting now.” And in the blink of an eye you were up and running towards your restroom because certainly if that didn’t get you up and out of bed, he wasn’t sure what would.

Quickly you brush your teeth and fix up your hair a bit, curious to know what Jungkook had planned out. To think you thought he was avoiding you! Well he was … but that doesn’t matter anymore! Placing your shoes on you begin to make your way towards the living room, the thought of eating those buttermilk pancakes almost making your mouth drool. That was until you stepped into the living room, stopping dead in your tracks.

Your eyes glaze over everything, blinking veryyy slowly, in order to make sure you were seeing things correctly. Jungkook had transformed your living room into some kind of um … workout center? For boxing? He had everything from the red punching bag, the reflex bag, the speed ball, jump rope, mini dumbbells, and most importantly boxing mitts for some one-on-one training. Everything was an adequate enough size to fit in all into the living room, but not too big in a way that it couldn’t be stored in the extra closet you had in the hallway.

“Why did you—” Jungkook hands you a pair of shiny black boxing gloves, along with bandages.

“I’m going to teach you the basics of boxing,” he presses his lips together, “whether you like it or not,” he says.

“Jungkook I don’t thin—”

“You don’t think what?” he looks at you in a way that tells you he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“I’m not really cut out for this kind of stuff,” you try to make an excuse for yourself anyway, but he wasn’t buying it.

“Because you have no experience, which is exactly why I’m going to teach you,” his brows draw together, a stern look on his face as he now makes eye contact with you, “You can’t just always expect someone to pop out of thin air and come to your rescue y/n, what happened two weeks ago was a mix of both good timing and sheer luck,” he sighs while pulling out a taser and pocket knife from his pocket, “and though this is helpful in many situations, you seem to forget to take these with you,” he scolds, “guess where they were the night at the club?” You stay silent, “the kitchen island,” he answers for you.

“Okay I get it, I get it,” you say, “I need to learn how to protect myself without using those,” you point to the items in his hand.

“Exactly, I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he playfully pats your head, “so we’ll be doing this every weekend for the next eight weeks, from 7AM till 2PM. We might even throw an occasional weekday night in there if I don’t get out of work too late.”

“7AM?!” you shriek, “Oh no no no, you sir are crazy,” you protest, shaking your head in denial, “No amount of pancakes will have me waking up that early every weekend.”

“Oh come on! The more hours you do, the better you’ll get!” he bargains with you, catching you off guard by throwing his arm around your shoulder, your cheeks going red as a result.

“Jungkook,” you dramatically cry out, ready to stomp your feet on the floor like a little kid, the only thing preventing you was you not wanting the downstairs neighbors to come up and complain.

He tightens his grip on you, “Come onnnnn,” he sings, “I’ll let you use my new body wash with the exfoliating properties,” he teases you, having heard you complain to Hobi one morning about being unsure of whether or not you could use it. You truly were too kind for your own good, cause if the situations were reversed, Jungkook would’ve just gone ahead and used it.

You narrow your eyes at him once again, “More like you’re buying me one of my own!” you demand and he nods in agreement, “Also, where did you even manage to get all this?” you ask, genuinely curious as to how he managed to buy all this.

“Um let’s just say I have a buddy at the boxing gym who didn’t really need these anymore,” you stare at him suspiciously, but decide to shrug it off. You’d ask him more questions some other day, but for now all you wanted was to eat those pancakes!

Hobi opens the door to his shared apartment, exhausted from the hike he just had this morning and honestly ready to just hop into bed and sleep. That was until he saw the transformation of his living room in front of his very own eyes, his skin paling and mouth gaping in shock.

“What the—” he whispers, preparing to scream out your names like a parent walking in their house only to find it destroyed by their teenagers, but before he could the sound of something stops him dead in his tracks. It was the sound of soft snores.

Walking towards the sound, which seemed to be coming from the long couch, a smile immediately appears on his face when he comes to see the view in front of him. You were on one side of the couch while Jungkook was on the other, both of your feet stretched out and touching in the middle, napping away. Hobi personally thought he was dreaming, this being a view he never thought he’d see.

Wanting to preserve the memory, he grabs his phone from his pocket and opens up the camera app, snapping the photo in silence, tempted to edit and post the photo with little clouds above each other's heads and make up some witty caption. But he’d save it for some other day. For now, he was just happy you two were finally getting along.

“Ah I had forgotten how that photo came to be,” Jungkook laughs, looking at the photo on your Iphone screen, “you were tired from working out, while I was tired from having to watch you continuously mess around with the equipment,” he pokes fun at you. Not like it wasn’t true, that day you kept going back to the speed ball, aimlessly hitting it in hopes that at some point you’d magically become fast at hitting it like in the movies.

“Hey, I’m pretty decent at doing everything now,” you flash him a cheesy smile. After several weeks of consistent training and long hours, you were definitely at a point where you could adequately defend yourself from someone ranging from a small petite woman to around a medium sized man. Luckily, you haven't come across a situation that has required you to to do so nor do you ever hope to, but it was comforting to know that if something ever did happen, then you were ready. But, your taser and pocket knife would always be your first go to, no matter what.

“You’re…” Jungkook pauses, “okay,” he breathes, huffing a quiet laugh. Out of impulse you flash him the finger, showing off your freshly manicured fingers. “Aren’t you rude,” he says with a dramatic gasp.

You roll your eyes, “You’re the one who taught me,” you laugh, and Jungkook places his hand on his chest, looking at you with a dramatic offended look on his face.

“Me?” he feigns his surprise.

“Yes you! How could I forget,” you look at him accusingly.

“No I taught you how to stop faking a smile, and to start putting a foot down people’s neck,” he shrugs, “not to go sticking out the middle finger,” he jokes, and you only roll your eyes again, grumbling a small  “Mm.”

May 2019.

To your surprise, you had been managing to consistently wake up and work out every weekend with Jungkook, with him even being able to up your usual workout plan at a drastic rate. You’d shed a couple of pounds and to your surprise could even see some muscle beginning to form, but today, well today was your monthly lazy day.

Lazy day was the one day of the month where you and Hobi would push everything off your schedule, from calling off of work, to making sure everything in the apartment was clean, and buying snacks the night before in order to make sure you wouldn’t have to step out of the apartment. It was usually picked the month before by either you or Hobi closing your eyes and randomly pointing somewhere on the calendar, and whatever day your index finger managed to land on would be the day. And well today was that day.

But when Hobi told you yesterday night that a family emergency was going to have to bring lazy day to a temporary halt because he had to drive back to Busan, which in itself was a three hour trip from Seoul, you had already called the day off weeks prior as your job wasn’t as lenient on last minute call offs. The contract you signed stating in small print, “any day off must be requested, sent in, and approved 2 weeks prior to the date said employee is asking for.”

And so this morning when Jungkook entered your room to find you completely knocked out with drool coming out of your mouth, he was surprised to say the least. On weekday mornings, he would almost always wake up to find himself alone in the apartment considering both you and Hobi have day jobs, so hearing snores come out of your room had definitely caught him off guard.

He debated on whether he should be annoying and wake you up and then force you to work out or be a nice roommate and make you breakfast. Let’s just say he didn’t choose the latter. Grabbing one of the stuffed animals that you weren’t hugging, he throws it at your head, a grunt coming out of your mouth after.

“Jungkook,” you mutter, morning voice in full effect, “let me sleep please,” you say, switching to the other side, in hopes that he’d leave.

“No, you need to work out,” he says, beginning to nag.

Turning around again, this time to face him, you look at him with your eyes half-way open, “Today’s lazy day,” you deadpan, his eyes narrow in confusion.

“What the hell is, quote on quote, lazy day?” he asks, lifting a brow. Rubbing your eyes along with eye boogers in the corners, you begin to stretch your arms and legs, not caring if he was staring.

Sighing once you were ready to respond, you then answer, “Lazy day is the one day of the month that me and Hobi take a day off of work to well … be lazy,” he stares at you with an innocent look on his face, “butttttt,” a mischievous smile appears on your face, “since Hobi cancelled on me, now you’re going to be lazy partner for the day.” His face twists in bewilderment.

“Huh?”

“You heard me, go call the café, and tell em you’re taking the day off,” you smile, now getting up from bed.

“And why would I do that?” Jungkook asks, the question coming off a little harsher than intended, but you were quick to shrug it off, already accustomed to the occasional attitude.

“Becauseeeeee,” you sing, “When was the last time you’ve taken a day off, I mean look at you right now! You’re already dressed comfortably,” you eye him up and down, he was currently in work out clothing which for him consisted of an oversized grey sweater and joggers, “do you really wanna get all sweaty and then have to shower, change, and go to work… cause I don’t think you do,” you raise your eyebrows up and down in a teasing manner as he avoids eye contact with you.

His eyes look around your room, clearly thinking to himself. A lazy day huh? Hmm you did make a point, he really couldn’t remember the last time he’s just lounged around and done nothing, as he was always doing something whether it be working out, working, going out, etc.

He looks back at you once he’s made his decision, letting out a huff of air, “Fine,” he says, grabbing his phone from his pocket, preparing to dial the coffee shop, a tiny squeal coming from you.

“I thought lazy day meant no going out,” Jungkook complains while pushing the grocery cart around, following you and your need to go up and down each and every aisle at the store.

“It does, but since Hobi and I couldn’t go grocery shopping the night before,” you grab some strawberry lemonade from the freezer and place it in the cart, “someone has to help carry the groceries up the stairs,” you catch him rolling his eyes, “your eyes will get stuck up there if you keep doing that,” you comment, grabbing packaged ramen from the counter beside you.

“Yeah, Yeah—” Jungkook stares at what’s in your hands wide eyed, “No, no, no! What are you doing?” You jump in surprise, dropping the package on the floor.

“Wh-what?” your face flushes in surprise, his outburst completely catching you off guard.

“Shin Ramyun?! What happened to getting Paldo Bibimmyeon?! Do you have no loyalty?” he scrunches his face up, in clear distress at what he just caught you doing. At first you don’t think he’s serious, this being some stupid joke he was making, but once you got a glimpse of the stare he was giving you, you’d soon come to realize that he was not playing around at all.

“It’s be-be-because,” you begin to stutter under his scrutiny, “these are buy three, get two free,” you lopsidedly smile, an awkward laugh feigning from your lips.  He shakes his head, snatching the ramen from your hands and placing it on its original spot before then grabbing his Paldo Bibimmyeon.

“Choosing price over quality, are you crazy?” he mutters under his breath before pushing the cart past you and making his way to the checkout line, leaving you there momentarily flabbergasted.

Once you caught up to him you were ready to tell him something until you heard the sound of someone calling your name, “Y/N?” you turn around, surprised to see Jimin in the line next to you.

“Oh Jimin!” you smile, softly waving at the newly blonde-haired boy, his roots telling you that the hair job was recent. Jimin offers his hand out to Jungkook. Jungkook, at first hesitant, shakes it in return, “You remember Jimin, right? He was with us on New Years, he was supposed to come partying with us last time, but he flaked last minute,” Jungkook slowly nods remembering the boy wrapping his arm around you during the countdown while Jimin on the other hand raises his hands to his defense.

“Even a person like me can get burnt out every here and then,” he laughs, “but next time I’ll be sure to be on the dance floor,” he winks at you, his natural flirty personality making its appearance. Jungkook awkwardly coughs, pushing the cart forward to get your attention back in the moving line.

You feel your hands get a bit clammy, Jimin always being someone you did have a bit of a crush on, never pursuing anything because of your long-term friendship with him. But of course that didn’t mean he didn’t get an occasional blush out of you here and there. “So how have you been since the last time I saw you? It’s been quite a while—”

And just as you’re about to answer, Jungkook interrupts, “Y/N,” he says, nudging you to tell you that it was time to pay.

“Ah I guess I’ll just see you around then,” Jimin chuckles, waving a small goodbye.

“O-oh yeah I guess I—”

“Y/N,” Jungkook repeats, unbeknownst to you, the green eyed monster was beginning to make its appearance. Any longer and horns would probably start sprouting out his ears.

Once you two finish paying and bagging everything, you walk towards Jungkook’s new black Hyundai which he had bought only a couple of weeks ago after months of what he calls “busting his ass” off and using most of his savings up for. You hum a tiny tune while helping him place all the bags in the trunk.

“So…” Jungkook awkwardly begins, second guessing whether he should continue asking the question he had in his mind before deciding to just do it anyway, “Is that like your boyfriend or something?”

Immediately you stop humming, staring at Jungkook wide-eyed, “Oh no, no!” you quickly deny, “No, No, no,” you repeat, shaking your head. The redness of your cheeks tell another story.

“Hm,” Jungkook mumbles, “sorta looked like it,” he deadpans before going to put the cart in its designated spot, leaving you there confused as to what that meant. 

After a couple of hours of lounging around in the apartment and binging Narcos: Mexico on the TV rather than your laptop because of Jungkook’s complaints, the two of you were now eating your ramen on the kitchen island, quietly seated on the tall chairs. The sound of Jungkook slurping his noodles filling the room.

“What did you mean by Jimin being my boyfriend or something?” you suddenly ask out of nowhere, the question having been on your mind for a majority of the day.

Jungkook takes a final gulp of his food before responding, “I don’t know,” he nonchalantly shrugs, “you were gawking at him like a schoolgirl seeing her crush in the hallway,” he says, “thought you two had something going on, or at least on your part,” he reiterates.  

“I did not stare at him like some schoolgirl!” you deny, taking offense to his analogy, “He’s j-jus—”

“J-just someone you clearly have a crush on,” he mocks your flusteredness, “I see and here a part of me thought it thought it was two-sided,” he smirks.

“It’s not sided on either way,” you protest, “Jimin is just a friend,” you clarify, putting your foot down.  

“How do you even know the dude?” he asks. He knew you and Hobi met during college, and that Hobi was in some club with Yoongi and Namjoon which explains how you met them. He also knew that Seokjin and Taehyung came into the picture after some college frat party, but Jimin, well he didn’t know too much about Jimin. Just that he clearly felt comfortable enough to have his arm around you during New Years.

“I met him during my first year of performing at Busan Arts College, that was before I transferred to Seoul National where I’d then meet Hobi,” Jungkook’s ears perk up, several questions now running through his head.

“An arts college? In Busan?”

“Yeah, like a school for dance majors, drawing, theatre, music, film, modelling, sports, interior design, animation, and et cetera,” you smile softly while explaining, “I was an art major, painting to be specific, and along the scopes of watercolors and abstractness.”

Jungkook hums, his curiosity still not completely fulfilled, “So why’d you transfer?” he asks the big question.

“Oh..” you know you shouldn’t be, but for some reason you are slightly taken back by his blunt question, “because..” you sigh, “um something happened that well um I just thought it’d be best to transfer, and well my math skills weren’t too rusty for the entrance exam and my credits were exceptional for transferring and so I just took the leap and left. Met Hobi, we became roommates, decided to stay roommates even after graduating and well now I’m an accountant.”

Jungkook stays silent for a moment, surprised that there was more to you than meets the eye. He would’ve never guessed that you were into painting, “I stayed in touch with Jimin, introduced him to my new group of friends and well yeah, that’s that,” you finish explaining, “He was a dance major, just in case you were curious,” you add, “He now works at a contemporary dance company here in Seoul, very deep with connections in the arts industry,” So that’s who Jimin was huh? Cool... but now Jungkook was much more curious about you.

“Do you ever paint?” he asks another question, completely finished with his meal and at this point only staying for the conversation. It was weird, had it been anyone else asking you these questions you wouldn't have dared entertain it any further, probably finding some way to maneuver out of it. But for Jungkook to ask whether it be from a place of nosiness or simple curiosity, hell maybe even boredom, for some reason you just didn’t mind.

“Um not really, not anymore at least, especially these days that work is beginning to pile up but,” you hesitate for a moment before continuing, “I still have some of my old work somewhere under my bed, probably in a storage box knowing me.”

“Can I see them?”

And just as you’re about to answer, your phone’s ringing sound goes off. The person calling? Jimin. You hesitate to answer, glancing at Jungkook who was staring at your phone, presumably reading the name. Once he does, he looks at you in a way that was asking, “Are you going to pick up?”

You click the green button to accept, “Hello?”

“Y/N?” Jimin asks, unsure if it was you.

“Yes?”

“Hey! Um so I was actually meaning to call for quite a while,” Jungkook tries his best not to make it obvious that he’s listening in, “and so when I ran into you and your friend at the market it served as a complete reminder.”

“Oh what for?” you ask politely.

“Well I was hoping we could catch up over some dinner, and then I could tell you something very important that I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time,” From Jimin? “I was thinking this Saturday like at 7? I’ll pick you up.”  

“Oh um..” for some reason you look at Jungkook for advice, but he just stares at you with his eyebrows furrowed, “Yeah sure, why not?” you awkwardly laugh.

“Perfect, I’ll see you then! Byeeeee,” he sings before clicking, leaving you on the line. Did that call really just happen? Or were just imagining things?  

“I think—” you gulp, “I think I have a date this Saturday?” you say unsurely, a small dumbfounded smile beginning to appear on your face.

He notices the goofy smile beginning to appear on your face, before letting out a large exasperated breath and feigning his best smile. The forced smile comes out quite awkward, “With Park Jimin?” Park Jimin your college friend. Park Jimin, the successful contemporary dancer. Park Jimin, the one who looked like he came straight out of a magazine cover. That Park Jimin? Jungkook on the other hand could feel his eyebrow impulsively twitch in response, the green eyed monster creeping from behind, ready to make its return.

You nod your head yes, Jungkook now getting up from the chair, a negative energy now around him. “So much for it being a zero sided thing,” he mutters before practically throwing his dish into the sink and stomping out the kitchen, leaving you completely by yourself.

“Weird,” you think to yourself before heading off to bed.

Saturday had surprisingly arrived in the blink of an eye despite the extra hours of working out Jungkook had thrown in the morning. It was almost as if the boy wanted you to be on your date exhausted and halfway knocked out. Out of nowhere, deciding that today was the best day to start working on more leg targeted exercises, as a result your legs now felt like jell-o with every step you took.

“I’m gonna get going you guys,” you announce to the boys in the living room, who were currently on the couch watching an episode of One Piece.

Hobi turns his attention from the screen to look at you, immediately smiling at your outfit, “Ahh look at you,” he compliments, Jungkook on the other hand or silently watches you as you grab your keys from the countertop. “Doesn’t she look pretty Jungkook?” Hobi asks, tapping Jungkook on the shoulder. Jungkook remains silent, which oddly enough resulted in a heavy feeling in your chest. “Now she’s sad!” Hobi scolds, “Tell her she looks pretty,” Hobi pushes Jungkook’s shoulder this time.

“You look…” Jungkook pauses, and for a moment both you and Hobi hold your breath, for Jungkook’s mouth was quite unpredictable sometimes, “You look more than pretty,” he says with a warm look on his face before catching himself and going back to his usual expressionless face and turning his attention back to the screen. Hobi who looks like he’s about to tease the hell out Jungkook once you leave, struggles to hide the big grin on his face. While you, well you could’ve sworn you felt your heart skip a beat.  

“Well get going now! And don’t come back too late!” Hobi teases, loving the persona of acting like a parent a little too much.

Was thinking about your roommate regular for a date? Because that’s what you found yourself doing … a lot. From the moment you had stepped into Jimin’s car your immediate comparison was to Jungkook’s own car. Once he started driving, your mind went to how unlike Jimin who drove with both hands on the steering wheel, Jungkook liked driving with one. More specifically his left. 

And of course being on a date you expect conversation to be flowing all around even when you’re waiting on the food, but for some reason you had become so used to Jungkook always being silent until he was nearly finished with his food, that when Jimin began to make conversation while waiting definitely felt … odd for you to say the least. And don’t even get you started on what he ended up ordering. Well done steak?! Jungkook hated well done steak, preferring medium rare over anything. And so to say your roommate had been constantly on your mind this whole time was a bit of an understatement. 

Currently the two of you were walking on the bridge of a local park, the several number of lampposts and people all around you making it less scary than compared to that night at the park with Jungkook. “So Y/N how’s your year been so far?” Jimin asks, a pleasant smile on his face.

“It’s been,” you pause, thinking about the person who came into your life only months ago, “it’s been pretty good.”

“That’s good to hear, that’s good to hear,” he repeats, the two of you now sitting on a bench, “So I know I told you I had some important news,” he begins, “and it’s something I’ve been really wanting to talk to you about for a very long time,” he insinuates, “and so if you could close your eyes for a moment that’d be great,” you do as follows, and close your eyes, Your heart begins to race but it wasn’t the same kind of racing you felt that night at the park with Jungkook. It was more of a “what am I doing here?” kind of nervousness so to speak. Nonetheless you shrug the feeling off.

Jimin, who was originally supposed to be getting an exhibition flyer out of his coat, notices that you have what looks to be a leaf in your hair. Deciding that it was bothering him too much he goes and reaches for it, surprised to be in contact with your lips seconds later. Quickly he pulls away, staring at you wide eyed. Both of your faces now tomato red, as he struggles to form words.

Eyes still widened, he pulls out the folded paper from jacket, once unfolded it reads, “Seoul City’s Annual Public Art Exhibition with a special performance by Seoul’s Contemporary Dance Academy choreographed by Park Jimin.”

“Oh my God—” you manage to breath out, coming to the realization that kissing you was not his attention.

He scratches the back of his neck, “I um, yeah, I’m this year’s choreographer for the city's art exhibition and well I managed to get you a slot so that you could have your very first art piece exhibited,” Jimin feigns an awkward smile, “You know since you’re a painter first before an accountant.” You, still hung up on what was probably the most embarrassing moment of your life, stare at him in complete silence. Everything barely registering in your head.

“Y/N…” he begins the dreadful pity speech by grabbing your hand, “I um,” he lets out an awkward chuckle before continuing, “I like you, I do, but not in that way…”

In the movies, this is where you’re supposed to feel as if your world was crashing down on you, the part where your heart is supposed to sink in complete sadness and you go home a complete crying mess. But rather than feel any of those things, you instead feel …. relief? Yeah, you kissing the boy was embarrassing, but it wasn’t something that was gonna haunt you for the rest of your life. Maybe for a week or two, but not definitely not the rest of your life.

Jimin wonders what’s going through your mind, the apparent smile that suddenly grew on your face telling him that things were going to be just fine, “I sorta um had my eyes on someone else in our friend group…” and with that he gets your attention because you knew exactly who he was talking about.

“Taehyung,” you say, and Jimin silently nods, a laugh emitting from both of your lips.

“Honestly, I’m a little surprised that you even agreed to go out with me, that Jungkook dude seemed like was going to lunge at me any second over there at the supermarket,” Jimin says, “I thought you two were a thing at first.”  

You laugh in disbelief, “Me and Jungkook?” you say, scrunching your face.

“Um yeah, it’s not really something shocking,” Jimin laughs, “I mean you two definitely looked like a couple that day, very much doing um couple-like things. Maybe not affectionate wise but I don’t know there were definitely looks and glances being exchanged. But if you say there’s nothing between you two then who am I to argue?” Jimin shrugs his shoulders, a smirk on his face.

“Exactly, who are you to argue,” you dramatically snarl, Jimin throwing his head back in laughter.

“So y/n what do you say about participating in the art exhibition? You know you want toooo,” Jimin sings, pouting his lips. You had forgotten about that for a moment, the embarrassment of the kiss completely fazing you out.

“Oh I don’t know,” you nervously say, you hadn’t seriously painted in such a long time, that chapter in your life being a closed book for quite some time now.

“But y/n—” Jimin begs, “This could be the moment you’ve been waiting for, there’s going to be a lot of professional artists there along with buyers.”

“I just—” something was holding you back from saying yes. Was it fear? Maybe. All you knew was that you couldn't dive into something that you had long given up on, “I don’t think I can,” you ultimately say.

Jimin frowns, “You sure? I can’t hold the slot for too long, and well I was so sure you’d say yes..” You sigh before nodding, confirming that you were saying no.

“Ah okay,” Jimin says, completely understanding, “Come on let’s get you home,” to which you nod, a small sad smile on your face.

By the time you got back home, you wondered if the boys’ were asleep already, hoping at least one of them was awake to talk to, more specifically Hobi, for he always knew what to say when you needed comfort. And so when you opened the door to find the TV still on, but no one in the living room, you were confused to say the least.

You walk towards Hobi’s room, crack open the door, and peep your head in only to find him sound asleep. Did that mean Jungkook was up? Maybe someone just forgot to turn off the TV… with your curiosity getting the best of you, you decide to go Jungkook’s room and check if he was there. With your hand on the knob, you begin to twist it, slowly opening the door until a voice scares you from behind, “What are you doing?” he harshly whispers causing you to yelp in surprise.

“Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God,” you whisper as well, closing his door immediately, “I-I-I thought you were,” you point at his door, unable to complete your sentence.

“I was peeing,” he says, “Did you not see the light on?”

Shaking your head no, you ask, “What are you even doing up this late?”

Jungkook awkwardly stammers, “I um, I just couldn’t sleep,” he says instead of admitting that secretly he was waiting for you to arrive, just to make sure you were safe. Nothing else of course, not like he wanted to know how your date went… “Why are you going into my room without my permission?” he questions.

You scoff, “You always go in mine!” you try your best to keep your voice down, not wanting to wake up a grumpy Hobi, “Why can’t I go in yours?”

“Because you’ve never told me anything against me going into yours,” he argues, “Just because we’re um,” he pauses, struggling to say the word that comes next, “friends… doesn’t mean you get to go snooping around.” What the hell was he hiding in there that you couldn’t go in?

“That’s not fair and you know it,” you complain, ready to cross your arms and complain like a kid, that is until he flicks your forehead with his index finger.

“Ow,” you cry, “What was that for?” you groan, and he shrugs in response.

“I don’t know I just felt like doing it,” he smirks, “your forehead just looks so … flickable.” You narrow your eyes, quickly flicking his in return, garnering an “ow” from him as well.

“Oh you’re gonna pay for that,” he says, and quickly but also softly because you didn’t want to stomp too hard on the floor, you run back to the living room, the two of you now chasing each other around, index fingers ready for some more flicking. Maniacal fits of giggles filling the room as you begin to throw pillows at each other, running around the kitchen island like little kids. 

Jungkook, despite being the faster runner, was the one being chased. The closer you got to him, the further you began to reach your arm for his t-shirt, your fingertips always grazing the bottom. But once you finally did, something very unexpected happened. You tripped.

Soon enough, you were hands down on the floor, Jungkook below you, a casualty of your fall. The two of you now facing each other, chests heaving from your game of tag, laughing uncontrollably. Not exactly caring if Hobi, the neighbors, or the rest of the world could hear you.

Gradually, you get off him and instead lay on the kitchen floor right next him, aimlessly staring at the ceiling. A comfortable silence in the air. If someone would’ve told you at the beginning of the year that you and Jungkook would be playing tag in the apartment like little kids, you would’ve told them they were crazy. But yet here you were, heart pounding out of your chest, wanting this moment to remain for as long as it possibly could.

“So…” Jungkook continues to stare at the ceiling, “How’d your date go?”

“It was…” you use the only word that could properly describe it, “embarrassing,” you giggle, recalling what happened. Jungkook looks at you, eager to say the least, to know why.

“Let’s just say I ummm … took some signs completely wrong,” you awkwardly chuckle, “or long story short, I sorta kissed him and well let’s just say he has his eyes on someone else in our friend group.”

Was it wrong for Jungkook to feel happy? Happy that you two didn’t have insane chemistry, become boyfriend and girlfriend, and live happily ever after after like in the fairytales. Of course he wasn’t happy that it was you who went for the kiss, nor that it was who you got rejected, but it was better than you coming in here raving on about Park Jimin, no offense to Jimin.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says, an attempt to comfort you.

“It’s fine really,” you laugh, “what’s weird was that I didn’t really feel as heartbroken or as sad as I thought I’d be,” you shrug, “I’m just glad it didn’t ruin our friendship or anything. If anything I’m sad about what he offered... “

“What did he offer?” Jungkook’s jaw tightens, but you’re quick to shake your head and sigh.

“He offered me a spot at Seoul’s annual art exhibition, I guess since he choreographed a dance, he was able to talk them into giving him a spot and well I said no,” Jungkook frowns, wondering why you didn’t take the offer, “I just couldn’t see myself doing it… I haven’t painted in what feels like forever and to then have it be seen by thousands of people, yeah I can already feel the anxiety from that. One bad comment and I’m going to have to fake a smile the whole time and cry when I get home.”

Jungkook scoffs, “Who cares what others think? Screw them. I know that it’s rich coming from me, but if you think those people who may insult you or throw some sly comment to get under your skin are better than you in any way then let me tell you, they’re not. And who says you have to take their shit? Stop feeling as if you have to always put on some fake smile for people in order to spare their feelings and start looking out for your own,” Jungkook sits up, looking down on you. “So you know what you’re going to do?”

You stare at him in silence, murmuring a tiny “what?”

“You’re going to text Jimin right now and tell him you’re taking that spot,” Jungkook demands, “and if you don’t then I’ll call him myself and do it for you.” Now it’s your turn to sit yourself right up, waiting for a sign in his eyes that told you he was purely kidding. “Well what are you waiting for?” He eyes your pockets, waiting for you to reach for your phone.

“Jungko—”

“Y/N, you can’t tell me that you’re not feeling sad because you know you’re going to regret saying no to the opportunity,” Jungkook’s voice raises without meaning to, placing his hands on your shoulders, “I don’t have to see a single painting of yours to know that you’re talented, and if people can’t see that then honestly it’s their loss.” You feel your heart swell with every word, slowly pulling out your phone from the back pocket of your jeans.

Jungkook gets up from his position, offering his hand to help pull you up. Once he pulls you, he walks towards the fridge, and takes two pints of ice cream out the freezer. Your face lights up as you watch him get two spoons from the drawer, “Don’t hold it against me, but I bought these after you left just in case you came back a crying mess,” he avoids eye contact with you while handing you your pint, “But heartbreak or not, someone has to eat these. So come on, send that text so we can watch some One Piece.”

“Imagine you would’ve never convinced me to do the art exhibition,” you laugh, gently nudging Jungkook.

“Mm though it could’ve prevented a lot of things, the good definitely outweighed the bad so…” Jungkook pauses, “I guess it just goes to show you have to go through the downs in order to reap the rewards of the up.”

“Now look who's getting all wordy on me,” you tease.

“I guess you’re rubbing off on me more than I’d like to admit,” he pretends to be annoyed by dramatically sighing but a laugh soon follows.

June 2019.

After texting Jimin that you had changed your mind, you began to work on the painting you had brainstormed for the art exhibition, first sketching it out and now well on your way to starting your quite large painting. 

Honestly, pulling out your old art tools and portfolio from years ago was nostalgic, bringing you a genuine sense of completeness. To have a decent paying job, the best of friends, and now being able to practice the hobby you had once considered turning into a career was everything you could ask for. But what made you feel even warmer inside was just how supportive Jungkook was of the whole thing, always buying and bringing back art materials for you to use, including different colors of paint. Though most of the time they weren’t really what you considered the best quality, it was the thought that counted.

After your boxing lessons with him, you’d usually go straight to your room to begin working on it, for the first time since you stopped painting feeling actual motivation and creativity flowing through you. Life was good. Not good, amazing.

That was until today, when you noticed Jungkook hadn’t woken you up for your usual Saturday workout. “Maybe he overslept?” you think to yourself, probably had a tiresome night at work yesterday. Slowly you make your way outside his door, gently knocking on the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Nothing. Not a groan, not a “let me sleep”, absolutely nothing. You knock one more time just to make sure, your shoulders dropping once you realize he wasn’t going to open the door. Remembering what he said about entering his room, you decide that if he was having a bad day, it’d just be best to leave him be for the meanwhile.

Things didn’t really start getting alarming until you and Hobi both noticed that he skipped breakfast. His door remaining absolutely closed the whole morning and day, not a peep of sound coming out.

“Hobi, I’m starting to get worried,” your eyes glimmer with concern, “He hasn’t come out all day.”

“I know I am too, but—” Hobi sighs, “I don’t want to pressure him into—” the sound of a door opening quickly grabs your guys’ attention, the two of you silently watching Jungkook come out of his room. The time on the clock reading 6PM, the sun outside beginning to set. Carefully you watch Jungkook come into the kitchen, grabbing nothing more than a water bottle and a couple of snacks.

There’s a redness to his eyes that you’d never seen before, almost as if he had been sobbing. His under eyes were in the early stages of becoming puffy, and his skin seemed a lot paler than usual. You feel your heart sink when the two of you, for a mere second, make eye contact. Quietly he begins to make his way back to his room, but not before you offer him some food.

“Y/N—” Hobi tries to stop you, but you continue nonetheless.

“I made japchae,” you say, “I even added extra mushrooms like how you always like it,” he stares at you in silence, a cold look to his eyes before ignoring you and returning to his room. The door slamming shut once he does. If your heart was sunk already, then it was definitely stomped and ripped into pieces after that.

You turn your attention back to the TV, feeling Hobi’s stare from the side. Suddenly the volume of the TV is lowered and you already know what's coming, “Y/N…” you hear Hobi say, a sad tone behind his voice.

“Hobi don’t,” you cut him off before he could continue, not wanting to receive his pity, “I just don’t feel like hearing it right now.”

Hobi ignores you, knowing you were just putting up a wall as a defense mechanism, “You know he didn’t mean it,” he says, “he’s probably just having a rough day that’s all.”

“Even if he is, why does he still feel the need to just keep it to himself, why can’t he see that he can trust us, that he can trust me? Sometimes it feels like he knows a lot more about me than I know about him—” you rant, trying to keep your voice down so that Jungkook doesn’t hear you from his room.

Hobi sighs, getting up from the couch and grabbing his jacket and keys from the counter, “Put on your shoes,” he says, and you look at him confused before doing as he says and following him outside. The two of you then climb up the fire ladder of your apartment and onto the roof, the view of the stars sending shivers down your spine.

“Okay now sit—” he commands, which you do anyway.

“Why are we even out here?” you question, regretting not bringing your own sweater.

“Because I’m going to tell you a story, and well I don’t want Jungkook hearing us,” he says, making himself comfortable in the spot next to you, “You ready?”

Silently you nod your head yes, and so he continues.

“When I was a kid, I was what you could call ...nerdy … so to speak,” he chuckles, “I had those big ol glasses that made you look like you had fish eyes, I liked reading the Harry Potter books, I didn’t like playing sports like the rest of the boys in my elementary school did, and well in general I just wasn’t like a lot of them,” he pauses to look up at the sky, continuing once he was ready, “Now when you’re in elementary, kids won’t directly bully you, but instead they’ll make little teasing remarks because well ...we’re kids. We don’t know the big curse words yet or what we’re capable of physically. And so as a kid I’d let those jokes slide, I’d let their insults become the label put on me, not knowing the true maliciousness behind it.”

You feel your eyes become glossy, knowing where this was leading, “But the older you get, the more you begin to learn and well soon enough the teasing became full on bullying by middle school. The older kids would make these nicknames for me, and constantly call me them before, during, and after school. Occasionally even following me for a couple of blocks when walking home just to remind me that they had power over me,” Hobi’s voice begins to shake a little, “and well I didn’t know how to speak up for myself, let alone defend myself and so it just became a regular occurrence until on a certain day in middle school,” he pauses, taking a big breath. 

“I had been walking home from school that day, and for some reason that day I decided I wanted to take a different route back home, probably because I was hoping the kids who would bully me would decide not to follow me. But boy was I was wrong,” he feigns a laugh, “The route I had taken was right next to the Suyeong River, and well I think it’s important to note that I didn’t know how to swim at the time. I think I personally choose not to remember too much, but one moment I was walking and the next I had my face being pulled in and out of the water, the sounds of laughter being the thing I remember the most from that day,” Hobi closes his eyes, his voice cracking as he continues, “And I just remember thinking how could kids my age be so viscous?” tears begin to silently fall from his eyes, his hands slightly shaking at the recollection of the memory, “I thought this was it, this is the end of the line for me.”

“It wasn’t until I felt the release of my hair and the touch of someone pulling back that the nightmare came to an end,” Hobi wipes his tears with the sleeve of his sweater, “When I finally managed to get some kind of focus on my vision, I’d come to see the boy who was pushing me into the water completely knocked out the floor while the rest of his buddies were running to who knows where,” The scene from the club begins to replay in your head, remembering the person who had gotten there just at the right time.

“And then there was Jungkook, the boy I’d never seen a day in my life , helping me fix myself along with looking for my glasses even after having knocked out that boy with his bare hands. After that me and Jungkook became the best of friends, like actual genuine friends and the bullying had completely stopped. I’d also come to find out that Jungkook was a boxer, and not a casual one, like an “I practice every weekday, weekend, day, and night.” kind of one. He was aiming to go pro, and so he had to put in the time for it. His parents were supportive of it as well, as I think his dad saw the most potential in it.”  

Hobi takes a breather before continuing, finding yourself completely immersed in the story, “And so when our senior year came around and I had gotten accepted into SNU, I asked Jungkook what he was planning on doing now that we were graduating. And well that’s when he told me that had gotten an offer to train and compete in the states, where there’d be a lot more tougher competition and where he could really develop the natural talent he had. So on graduation day we had our teary farewell, and I remember telling him that if he ever needed anything and I truly meant anything, that he’d know where to find me.”

“So when years later I received a call at about 2 in the morning, asking if he could redeem the favor he had once done for me so long ago, I knew I couldn’t say no. I don’t know what happened in the states, and I don’t bother to ask him because I know that the day he’s ready to tell me or you, he will. Whatever did happen over there, changed him though. He came back a colder, more rude person, and honestly I thought he’d be like that forever until he started to get to know you,” Hobi smiles, “That’s when I began to see glimpses of the Jungkook I knew from high school again, the one who liked to mess around all the time, and never took himself too seriously.”

“You see y/n, I’m telling you all of this because I want you to know that Jungkook isn’t like us in the way of opening up when he feels sad or mad. He’s used to being the one doing all the protecting and so when he finds himself in a place where he’s overwhelmed by the feelings of sadness or anger, he gives the cold shoulder or becomes someone who isn’t like him at all, in order to avoid talking about it. I think it’s because he doesn’t want anyone to know the burden he carries. To sum it up y/n, Jungkook is the definition of when it rains, it pours … but when it shines, you’ll completely forget it ever rained to begin with,” Hobi pats you softly on the shoulder, “So the best thing you can do right now is let the storm play itself out, so that then you can be there when the rainbow comes back out.”

If only you had listened.

“Ahh so it was Hobi who told you everything,” Jungkook scrunches his face.

“No duhhhhh,” you sing, “Who else could have?”

Jungkook shrugs, “I don’t know, I thought you just magically figured it out on your own,” you’re unsure on whether he’s being sarcastic or not so all you is narrow your eyes at him, deciding to stay silent than make yourself look stupid.

“Mm either way Hobi made a BIG mistake telling me,” you laugh, “because he should've known my nosiness was only going to lead to problems.”

“Tell me about it,” Jungkook teases, resulting in a light smack to the shoulder.

July 2019.

It had been about a month since Jungkook’s change in behavior, his cold demeanor reminding you of when he first moved in months ago. The only time he’d ever leave his room was to go to work, use the restroom, or get his food to take to his room. You had been working on your painting whenever you got the chance, a distraction from the constant concern you felt for Jungkook. You know Hobi said to give it time, but how long would it be until Jungkook decided to finally open up? He couldn’t go on like this forever, could he?

You missed the Jungkook you had gotten to know in the last couple of months, the one who showed you that the tough wall he put up around him was nothing more than an act. That behind it, he was a complete sweetheart who liked drinking his banana milk and watching One Piece whenever he had the chance, the one who constantly liked to steal your things from your room and then replace them with an even better version, the one whose laugh sorta reminded you of Elmo but was still absolutely adorable, and lastly the one who you had found constantly by your side and falling further in love with every waking moment.

Not like, but love. You had come to realize it while you were in bed one night, your only thoughts being thunk all relating to Jungkook in some way. Remembering the number of times this month where you’d find yourself outside his bedroom door, inches away from knocking, knowing that all you needed was for him to open up the door at least once and you’d know everything was going to be okay. Sadly, you’d always find yourself chickening out, Hobi’s words always ringing in your head to serve as a reminder. Jungkook needed space. And as much as you wanted to run up to him and give him a tight hug, you knew you had to respect his boundaries.

So then why was it that today, when you found yourself painting and missing a certain color, a tiny voice in your head was telling you that maybe Jungkook had it… Realistically you knew it wasn’t possible, you had kept track of all your colors from the moment you started, but damn was that voice convincing. 

Getting up from the floor, you walk out into the living room, checking around to see if it was there. Hobi, who was currently taking a nap on the couch, seemed completely at peace.

You check his room to see if he has it, but your efforts were to no avail. The only place it had to be was Jungkook’s room. It had to be. At least that’s what you were telling yourself so could finally have an excuse to knock on his door. Making your way to his room, you prepare to knock, your knuckles lightly tapping against the wooden door. But to your surprise the door creaks open, no one presumably in the room…

You could’ve sworn Jungkook was home? You double check the restroom, making sure it wasn’t going to be an incident like last time, but this time he really wasn’t there. The voice of reasoning versus temptation now had you completely torn. You remember the day Jungkook first moved in, and how secretive he got over you seeing whatever it was inside his boxes, and the night after your date and how stern he was about you not entering.

Slowly you push open the door of his room, completely forgetting Hobi’s words and deciding that it was either now or never. You knew you were a pushing boundary that you shouldn’t be, but a part of you also felt like it had to be done. Maybe if you found out what was bothering Jungkook so much, you could help him.

Honestly, you weren't too sure on what you expected when you first entered. Considering how secretive Jungkook was about it, you sorta assumed the room would be all black and have a whole bunch of weird things hanging across the walls, but surprisingly his room looked completely normal. The bed covers were a navy blue color that matched with some of the artwork he had hung across the beige colored apartment walls. The drawers were plain and boring while his desk looked like any other ordinary desk:  stacked with random sketches, pens, One piece manga, and printed webtoons. If this is all he was hiding, then it really no made sense because there was literally nothing to hide….

That was until you saw the closed closet door, and once you opened it, you were blown away. For what was behind those closet doors was an entire memorabilia of awards, belts, photos, and trophies which you assumed were all Jungkook’s, newspapers from the states with headlines that spoke of how amazing Jungkook was. Many of them include the words “rising”, “prodigy”,  and “the next big thing”. Your eyes try to take everything in all in one go, but it was just so much. There were papers that were written about him even when he was a kid, pictures of his with several belts around his waist amazed you. This was insane.

But it wasn’t until you noticed the newspaper headline of the paper hung right in the center of the practical shrine that the smile from your face fell, as it read, “Prodigy Jeon Jungkook, K.O’d in Round 12 against Brandon Star.” You look at the date, and everything begins to start making sense. The date which read December 1, 2018, only a couple of weeks prior to your first meeting with him at New Years, the churning feeling in your stomach only becoming heavier as you read the newspaper next to it. “Rising Star, Jeon Jungkook, disappears. Where is he now?” it reads, and as you skim through the different articles, the whole memorabilia shrine begins to make sense. Jungkook didn’t have this here for the purpose of maintaining old memories, but for the purpose of constantly reminding himself of what he once was and how he ended up failing, torturing himself to say the least. It’d explain his pent up anger when you first met him, the scar was still fresh.

Grabbing one of the trophies from the memorabilia desk, you observe the glass material and admire its fine detail, Jungkook’s name written in cursive underneath the title. Slowly your fingers graze over it, whispering his name to yourself, “Jeon Ju—”

“What do you think you’re doing?” a voice harshly interrupts, scaring you and causing you to jump. The slippery trophy in your hands falling to floors, several pieces of glass now shattered onto the floor. Turning to face the owner of the voice, your heart stops when you find Jungkook staring at the floor, an expressionless look on his face.

“I—” your brain completely freezes, only staring at his balled up fist which was becoming more red with every passing second.

“I told you—” he closes his eyes, letting out an exasperated breath, “I told you to stay the fuck out of my room,” he finally snaps, his enraged voice echoing across the walls of the room, “So then why, why the fuck are you in here right now!” he moves towards you, his face now becoming red in anger. Not caring whether he was stepping on glass or not.

“I know but—”

He cuts you off, “But fucking what? There’s no reason you should even be in here right now y/n! None!” he screams, his rage only furthering with every word. Tears begin to well up in your eyes as you stammer to defend yourself. “How would you feel like if I barged into your room and destroyed something personal of yours, huh?”  

All you can do is stare at him, never seeing him this enraged before, the sight definitely a scary one, “Answer me goddamit!” he yells, his fist still balled up, holding himself back from punching anything. He looks down at the broken glass one more time, his chest now heaving in anger before storming out the room.

Quickly you follow him, chills going down your spine when you see him turn to your room.

“What are you—” you begin, but it’s too late. Everything happens in slow motion, from the fist being thrown to the sound of the canvas you’d been working so long on cracking, several holes and rips appearing soon after. You look at the scene in front of you in silence, shock running through your veins, and the need to vomit stronger than ever before. Jungkook breathes heavily, staring at what he’s just done, not feeling a single ounce of remorse.

The closing feeling in your throat is one that’s too overwhelming, but the anger you were now feeling was even stronger, “What is wrong with you,” you whisper, tears falling down from your eyes, a look of terror overtaking your face, “What is wrong with you!” you scream, lips trembling as your voice breaks at just how loud you were. Jungkook feels his blood run cold, taken back by your sudden outburst.

“I have been nothing but kind to you since the day we’ve met, nothing but!” you yell, hot tears uncontrollably falling from your hysteria.

Jungkook scoffs, yelling right in return, “Do you want some kind of reward for that? Is that it? Is that all this is? Another ego booster for you so you can pat yourself on the back and say you’re a good person!”

“I don’t need anything from anyone! Especially not from someone like you,” you spit, Jungkook’s jaw clenching at your response.

“Ah I knew that nice ol princess act was nothing more than mere bullshit,” he bitterly laughs, “finally had enough of your whole little treat everyone with kindness moral?” he mocks you.

“It’s not a fucking act, I’m just not a miserable person like you!” you grit your teeth, the temptation to throw something at him at an all time high.

“No you just live in this big old fantasy bubble that’s got you believing that kindness solves all the world's problems!”

“Yeah well it’s better than thinking that being a fucking prick to the rest of the world gets you anywhere, I mean look at where you’re at now!” you yell, knowing you were treading on thin ice, but you didn’t care at all anymore. The ice was shattered the moment he destroyed your painting, “I understand that I made a mistake going into your room, but you don’t have to take the rest of your miserable life out on me! You think everyone around you wants to be some kind of punching bag all the time for you?” the veins in your neck begin to pop out, and you almost feel as if your chest was going to physically explode at any moment, “How dare you come in here and treat everyone around you like complete shit all because you’re living a sad tragic life!”

“That’s not true,” he snarls, a scowl on his face.

“Isn’t it?” you scoff, “You’ve done it since the first day you got here, and so let me do the favor of telling you the truth and giving you a goddamn reality check! We’re all sick and tired of it! Just because you’re miserable doesn’t mean you get to make everyone around you as well! And let me tell you, I’ll be damned if I let someone like you make me just as rotten as yourself,” and for a small second you see the hurt across Jungkook’s face, and you think maybe you’ve gone too far. 

Maybe this could’ve all been prevented had you never entered his room. But then you think to yourself that no, this was bound to happen. This was always going to happen whether you liked it or not. The questions had always just been: when was it going to happen and what was going to be the straw that broke the camel’s back? By now both of your chests are heaving, and there’s a silence that fills the room. Time acts as nothing more than an illusion.

“Is that what you really think?” he says, a cold hardened expression on his face again, “That I make you miserable?” You look at the destroyed painting on the floor, a symbol that despite building and making something so beautiful, all it took was one slip of the finger for it all to go down the drain. Without saying anything, you slowly nod to him, the emptiness in your heart acting as a driving force.

“What the—” Hobi walks in the room, dazed and confused, “What the fuck is going on in here?” He asks, but the two of you remain silent, continuing to stare at one another.

That is until Jungkook breaks away from the stare, muttering a small “nothing,” under his breath, walking out of the room and going back to his own, the door loudly slamming shut.

“Y/N…” Hobi begins, but you cut him off before he even gets the chance, a tiresome expression on your face.

“Hobi,” you shake your head, “Just leave me alone!,” you snap at him, but it comes out more as a plea than a demand, voice completely weary. Hobi stares at you for a moment before doing so, gently closing the door when making his way out. Once you hear the sound of the door close, you squat down to the floor, fingers grazing the painting you’d work so hard on, a muffled sob finally escaping from your lips.

a/n: whew! originally this was supposed to be nothing more than a small drabble, but as i kept writing it just ended becoming this monstrous of a fic that i had to split into two lmao. hopefully i didn’t make the switches between present day and the past too confusing for y’all.  part two will probably be up by next friday, once my finals week is over :)) any messages, anons, comments, reblogs, and like are appreciated! see y’all next time! 💞

[barricade-gal]

So people keep making those soulmate au edits on tiktok where you don't see color until you meet your soulmate. So please enjoy my ramblings about if it was you and Mando...

~~~

You're a bounty. Din is hunting you. You're a slippery one. Smart. But no match for the best bounty hunter in the guild. He catches you, takes you aboard the Crest. He doesn't bother putting you in carbonite. You know there's no where to go now. You talk to him in the cockpit on the way back to Navarro. They never give him the full story about his bounties before he goes to catch them. Theft. Debt. Murder. Just the basics. Your tagline was assault. You tell him about how really this was all a misunderstanding and that the bastard deserved it anyways. After just this short time with you, he has a hard time disagreeing. But Din doesn't bargain with bounties. He turns you in.

It isn't until Din is back on the Crest, new pucks acquired, that he has the opportunity to take off his helmet. The lighting in the Crest sucks but he's sure something is different as he looks at the now yellow-tinted lights in the refresher, staring at his own face in the mirror. Color... shit. He'd seen a few new faces since the last time he took off his helmet, since he's seen beyond the greyscale of the display. But he knows. He knows it's you. He thinks about your knowing smile and snide jokes you made to him, how he couldn't help but roll his eyes and smile within the safety of his beskar. But he already turned you in. He had no clue who had even placed your bounty let alone where to find you now. You wouldn't have even known, never seeing his face... he would just have to forget about it.

Until the next time he returned to Nevarro, just a few weeks later, ever the efficient hunter. And as he looks at the pucks laid out on the table between him and Karga, he feels his chest tighten, your face popping up on the blue hologram. Surely it wasn't...

"I thought I brought this one in last time." He points at your puck.

"Got away again. They're paying a pretty penny to get her back."

He smiles. Of course you'd escape again. Without a word, he collects his new pucks and leaves the cantina. Karga knows he's capable. That he'll return with the slipperiest bounty he's seen in a few cycles.

Din has no intention of bringing you back.

He finds you. Because of course he does. And you come with him, knowing your fate is sealed when you see the shining beskar clad man who's found your hiding spot. Only he doesn't take you back to Nevarro. Suddenly you're on Tatooine. You're confused why he hasn't thrown you in carbonite. He shouldn't trust you.

"You won't able to leave the ship. She'll only open if I tell her to. Stay put."

"Where are you going?"

He presses a button on his vambrace and the gang plank lowers. "I have bounties to catch, sweet thing."

And then, days later, he comes back with a nasty looking twi'lek and immediately shoves them into the carbonite chamber, not breathing a word about it. It goes like that for the other two bounties he has. He leaves you in the ship while he hunts. You've taken to begrudgingly fixing up the ship while he's away. The hunk of junk that was his ship was always falling apart. You had nothing better to do.

"Do you want a job?"

You're startled by it. He's barely spoken to you this whole time. "I thought you were turning me in..."

He leans casually against the hull of the Crest. "Do you want me to?" You roll your eyes and he continues. "The guy who placed the bounty on you. You said he deserved it."

"He did. Still does." You don't hesitate.

"Okay. I believe you."

And so, seeing this as your only chance at maybe getting free of your past, you accept. When Karga asks him what happened, he merely says you weren't worth his time. He doesn't press further. Din knows your last known location on your puck isn't correct. You're right on his ship, hiding where he told you to as Karga's men unload the other blocks of carbonite. And he'll keep you safe from any dumbass bounty hunter who dares to come after you. You wonder why the Mandalorian would go through so much trouble for you. You weren't that great at repairs. And for months, Mando doesn't let on to any of his true intentions, instead taking his time to get to know you in his own way. You grow to care for him, worried when he's away for too long. You wonder what's going on beneath that armor, what would happen if you saw his face. If maybe you would see... no. You respected him and his creed. Knowing you would never dare pressure him to show you anything he didn't want to, you resigned yourself to the comfortable relationship that had blossomed between you.

Everything comes to a head when Din comes back to the Crest one day, weak and limping as he drags a lifeless body behind him.

"Maker, what the fuck happened?" You help him haul the bounty into the Crest and finish by shoving it in the carbonite chamber.

"Got... nasty." And then THUNK, the sound of metal hitting the floor. You turn around, immediately running your hands over him to see where he's hurt. Your hands find his cowl soaking wet around his neck.

"Fuck.... fuck.... Mando I think your head is bleeding."

"No," he weakly protests, grabbing at your hands.

"I'm not letting you bleed out in that helmet, shiny. I have to take it off."

"But what if you..."

You're too panicked to think about how that's a kind of weird thing to start to say when you're threatening to have him break his creed.

"I don't want to do it without your permission, but you're bleeding a lot."

His grip tightens on your hands. "Okay..."

And so you take a deep breath and hoist the helmet off his head. You're so focused on checking for his wound that it completely blindsides you when your vision explodes in color....

Red. How do you know that that's red? There's so much of it. Tears start to cloud your vision as you scramble to think. Med kit. Bacta. You have bacta. Mando is your soulmate. Bandages too, you'll need bandages. Mando is your soulmate.

You can't speak, too overwhelmed by the gravity of it all. You patch him up, and stars his eyes. They're brown and rich and warm, looking at you expectantly. He sees it too. How long has he seen this....

"Sweet girl, talk to me..." He says, minutes later when the imminent danger has passed.

"How long..."

He can't meet your eyes. You can't imagine he's very used to it without his helmet on. "After I brought you in the first time..."

You shake your head. Maker, he's known this whole time... "You big shiny idiot, why didn't you tell me???"

He can hear the smile leaking through your voice, and it makes him start to hope that he hasn't ruined all this with you.

"Can I kiss you?" You beat him to it, carefully taking his face in your hands and bringing your lips onto his. He kisses your back so intensely for a man who was just on the brink of death. You were his lifeline. He needed you like air, especially now that he could taste you right from the source. "Don't want to ever let you go..." He whispers against your lips when you finally pull away to breathe.

"Good thing I don't wanna leave, Mando."

"Din."

You stare at those eyes again. His brown eyes...

"My name... it's Din."

"Din," you test the syllable out on your tongue. It feels good. Right. Just like everything about him has always felt. "I'm so glad it's you."

[honeysidesarchived]

WHERE THERE IS NO TEMPTATION, THERE IS NO GLORY.

⊱ a santino d'antonio / oc short-fic

pt. iii: tra i due litigante terzo gode ( read on ao3 ) ( masterlist )

words: 3.6k

warnings: mentions of animal death (canon-typical), clown on clown violence.

rating: m/t

notes: putting this little project of mine up on the internet for strangers to see was incredibly nerve-wracking, but i have been so lucky to be received so kindly by folks! thank you to everyone who reads, it really means the absolute most to me.

i don't know if i mentioned this before, but you can find translations for the (google-translated) italian at the bottom of each chapter on my ao3. i know it's a hassle, i'm sorry!! just can't find an easy place to put them here without spoiling what's going on in the chap ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

thank you as always to my lovely beta @starcrier, my lover my life my shawty my wife; this could not be done at all without you. ♡ and to @belorage, who loves euphie enough to send me the cutest message that managed to kick my ass into gear to get this chapter edited!!

Two days after the engagement party, when Santino has finally made up for his delay and lateness, is when he ruins it all again.

Later, Euphemia will think that he can’t help it—he is destined to be a wrecker, a ruiner, even if it’s for himself. It’s not his fault, not really, she’ll say. Ignoring that he is a perfectly autonomous adult means that she can excuse his thoughtlessness and not call it selfishness.

One of Santi’s men tries to tell her that he’s busy as she strides through the museum, heels clipping the floor with a strict, stark cadence. The smell of the doctor’s office is still stuck in her palette. She feels a wad of anxiety, anticipation, coiling deep in the pit of her stomach, a black stone dropped there to torture her with its heaviness. Santino will be happy, she thinks absently, chewing the inside of her cheek as she moves. He’s always wanted this.

The man is keeping pace with her well enough, despite her long legs and the purpose with which she walks to one of the back rooms of the museum.

“Bella,” he says, reaching to stop her, “per favore, he is in a meeting.”

The words put a sour taste in her mouth. Busy, the man is trying to say, too busy for you, for this, right now.

“Trust me, Gianni,” she replies dryly, “he’ll want to make time for this.”

She takes two steps into the room past the other guards, who don’t bother trying to stop her. The room is marked primarily by a high ceiling, which allows all of the paintings to be hung in it in their varying degrees of size. Euphemia recognizes Santino sitting on the bench first, and then another man that he’s talking to. The man looks like he’s just come off of the streets, his hair dark and the scruff that she can see on the side of his face manicured enough to look like he just hasn’t bothered recently.

It takes Euphemia’s brain a few seconds to register the facial features of the man who turns to look at her over his shoulder. He would be nothing, mean nothing, to her if she didn’t see the way his expression flattened, his gaze sweeping over her—calculating. Measuring. Identifying.

He looks dirty, unshowered, covered in soot, and she thinks back to two nights ago when Santino showed up to their engagement party smelling like fire and gunpowder.

Santino stands abruptly. He might be angry, or perhaps worried; it’s hard to tell the difference with him. But she can’t look at him, anyway, her gaze fixed on the stranger who is not much of a stranger at all, who she knows because of the scary stories. The rest of the world may as well be melting down around her, some sick Van Gogh painting, and she can’t look away.

John Wick has dark eyes. Shark’s eyes, she thinks. Black, soulless. Like the glass eyes on a teddy bear. She feels her stomach lurch as fear washes over her in a slick, wet wave, reminding her that she’s already received one bout of stressful news this afternoon.

He watches her. She’s sure he’s sizing her up—that is what John Wick is made to do—but after a second, he glances to Santino, gauging his reaction. If he thinks she's any kind of a threat, he's not letting it show.

“I told you not to let anyone in,” Santi says angrily to Gianni, helpless behind her—because Gianni would have never dared to grab her arm to stop her, would have never thought it acceptable to handle her like street rabble.

“Santi,” Euphie says, feeling very small and very far away and somewhere that her body isn't, “who is that?”

She knows, but she wants to hear him say it.

He steps around the bench, excusing himself from his conversation with Wick and crossing the space between them to guide her out of the room with his hands on her arms. She lets him, not because she isn’t burning with rage but because if Santino doesn’t show her where to go, Euphemia will just stand there, fear driving icy-hot spears through her chest.

He takes her as far as around the corner of the room, maybe to put as much space between her and John Wick as he can afford, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. She starts to shrug his hands off of her, and oh, there it is—the shrieking, panging fear, and fury, boiling inside of her. Venomous, indignant. Her mind is a mess of color and noise and she’s vaguely aware that maybe she should be working hard to keep her voice down, but it no longer matters.

A lot of things shouldn’t have happened that did. What’s one more?

“You brought him here?” She can feel her voice bordering on hysteria. “Are you a fucking idiot, Santi? What part of I don’t want John Wick near my life—”

“Euphie, Euphie, Euphie,” Santi says, trying his sweet-talk; condescending, like he’s speaking to a child. “Lower your voice, tesora, and we’ll talk about it.”

Her hand moves of its own accord, a knee-jerk reaction to Santi sweetly telling her to shut up, and she slaps him. Hard. As hard as she can manage. The second her palm connects with the side of his face, and the needles start stinging in her palm, she thinks that she regrets it: but all she can really think about is the pure fear and rage coursing through her body, pummeling adrenaline through her bloodstream until she feels like she’s going to be sick.

And, a little, too, a warmth blooming in her chest: satisfaction.

Santino's head doesn't turn back to her right away. There is a heartbeat of a moment where only silence reigns, where his fingers reach and touch the place her palm had made contact with, like he can't believe she did it. Maybe he can't, but then he'd be a bigger idiot than Euphemia thought.

He turns to face her again and holds up a hand—perhaps to call for a moment of inaction, or to be prepared for a second blow, she’s not sure and she doesn’t care. Santi begins, his voice a low threat, “Do not do anything else you're going to regret, Euphemia.”

Anything else you’re going to regret, he says, as though she will regret having done this.

“Fuck you,” she snaps, her voice rising in volume further yet. The poison reverberates on the high, smooth glass ceiling, bouncing off of the marble walls until it’s all echoing around them. “He knows what I look like, what—what I sound like, he knows my name, Santi, you—”

She's pushing him, hitting his chest; an impatient and weak battering. She wants both to get him away from her as much as possible and keep him close. Santi catches her wrists with bruising force, trapping her and making her look at him.

“Euphemia, basta—if you had waited,” he bites out, “then—”

“I’m pregnant!” The words leave her in a visceral, furious shout, her heart thundering in her chest, her flight or fight demanding one or the other. She rips her wrists from his grip. It feels like her entire body is vibrating. “You fucking idiot—I was late, I just got back from the doctor, and—and you’re not supposed to have him here anyway! You promised me, Santino D’Antonio, you promised me!”

There is a heartbeat of time, of space, where her fiance stares at her like he doesn’t quite think that she’s real. Red blooms on his cheek where her hand made contact and the dark of his pupils has all but swallowed up the beautiful green of his irises. Finally, something seems to kick the gears back into motion, and he plunges on, catching his footing.

“Euphie,” Santi says, reaching for her again, “Euphie, listen to me. John came to me, I didn’t—”

“I don’t need a fucking history lesson, Santino!” Euphemia spits, brushing his hand away from her arm. Blood is rushing through her head, louder and louder, demanding she raise her own volume to be heard over it. “I told you to leave him alone. You insisted, and I thought that was the end of it—you came late to the party that night because of him, isn’t that right? So why is he here, Santi? Why is John Wick near me and my baby?”

Santino stares at her. She can see the flex of his jaw when his teeth clench, trying to maintain what shred of control he has. He swallows, lifting a finger, to indicate one minute, and it takes all of her self-control not to scream at him that he doesn’t get any more minutes. But there is some pleasure in seeing him a little ruffled; to see the way his eyes dart over her face, trying to keep everything collected neatly in his mind, filed away for premium use. She wants to shake him until he is really rattled.

“It may have taken more persuasion than I anticipated,” Santi says finally, at last.

Euphemia makes a sound something like wrecking, like grief, because she knew this was going to happen and he told her it wouldn’t but here they are anyway. It’s a death knell, ringing in her ribcage, in the cavity of her chest. Dead, dead, dead, we’re all fucking dead now, don’t you see it? You, and me, and now our baby, dead like stones.

He continues quickly, over the sound of her agony, “But that doesn’t matter—cara mia, listen to me, it doesn’t matter because now John will do what I ask him to, and we don’t have to worry about anything else. Euphie, Euphie—come here, we'll talk about this.”

She’s going to be sick. The doctor’s words are still rolling around in her head; avoid stress, make sure you sleep and eat well. Can’t be worrying that baby, can we, Miss Volpe? Make sure your fiance does all the work, hm?

“It does matter. It matters the most, Santi, I—I told you to leave him be, I told you, and you said that you would only ask and that would be it—”

She’s grieving, now, lamenting the loss of her happiness, the hysteria taking a melancholic edge in her voice as the sorrow sweeps over her. Santi keeps reaching for her, to try and ground her back to him, and for the first time since she met him she just can’t stand to feel him touching her, saying her name, trying to sweet-talk her. His hands sweep her shoulders, coming up for his thumb to brush the nape of her neck; instinctively, her shoulders scrunch up to disembark them, arms shoving his off of her.

He says, “Tesora, we can talk about this—”

“You did exactly what I asked you not to,” she manages out, taking a step back from him. “I ask you for two things, Santi. Helping my mother, and not putting yourself at war with John Wick. I do not—you should not have asked him at all!”

“Euphie—”

By the time Santino reaches for her again, she’s turning and walking away, her steps unsteady. She’s sure that she’s sweating, or crying, or maybe both or neither and her body is just kicking into overdrive with gut-wrenching sweeps of grief rocking through her body now that she’s got Baba Yaga fifteen feet from her. From her and her baby.

“Euphie!” Santino’s voice echoes down the main hall of the museum, lighter now. Almost like they never argued at all. “We’ll talk when I get home, si? Mi amore?”

Euphemia is certain she’s never heard a sentence more infuriating in her entire life. It sparks something violent in her. It had been dormant, had stepped aside for her mourning, but it catches fire the second Santino says, we’ll talk when I get home.

Incensed, she turns and slides the engagement ring off of her finger, throwing it as hard as she can at him. Gianni had been trailing her, certainly at Santino's behest, and he tries to stop her—but it's too late, the fury inside of her forcing her to move more quickly than Gianni anticipates.

He catches her around the waist and she considers, briefly, the logistics of wrenching Gianni's arm off of her to go and slap Santino again; instead, she watches the expensive engagement ring bounce off of the front of Santino's jacket and clatter on the floor.

The way he tilts his head, as though expecting her to lob it at his face, and the irritated expression that comes over him is almost as good as actually having hit her original target of that pretty face of his.

Then, it’s pure, sheer, furious indignation that crosses Santi’s face, but she has no time to think about what that means for her.

“Fuck you, Santi,” she bites out venomously. “Fuck. You. Don’t fucking bother coming home.”

“Bella,” Gianni says, “we should get you back.”

Euphemia debates slapping Gianni, too, but it would be unfair; in his defense, he did try to keep her out of the room. She turns and marches her way out, the doors slamming shut behind her and the cold air of New York in the fall washing over her. As Gianni speaks on the phone and calls the driver around, she glances up at the sky; gray and soft as wedding silk, it stretches, endless, cut in pieces by the skyscrapers parsing it out.

A fool, she thinks. Santino has always made a fool out of me, and this is no one’s fault but my own.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Two hours later, Euphemia hears him enter the loft. He lets the door click shut softly behind him, not slamming it, not storming through. She expected no less; Santi so rarely lets the anger really take hold of him, so rarely lets himself scream or yell or throw something. I’m marrying a fucking sociopath, she thinks, but there’s no heat to the thought; only exhaustion, only a tiredness that goes bone-deep

Even now, she still thinks of it as present tense: she’s marrying a sociopath, as though she didn’t try to hit him in the face with the engagement ring he picked out for her just hours ago, as though in the end, she will still be his. She will.

“Are you calmed down?” Santino asks, in the way that only he could manage—condescending, and soft. Euphemia can’t withhold the vicious scoff that rolls out of her the second he talks.

“I told you not to come home,” she replies tartly, “but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You are apparently as deaf as you are stupid.”

“So no, then.”

“What do you want me to say, Santi?” Euphemia demands, looking at him now. She’s got a suitcase out but there’s nothing in it; she can’t bring herself to pack, to think about going back home to Tuscany where her mother is waiting, barely sober because she can only stay sober for about a month at a time before she falls back to her old habits. “Why don’t you invite our friend John Wick up for dinner, hm? I’m sure he’d like that, after you did whatever you did to make him show up here. Perhaps you took a page out of that idiot Iosef’s book and killed his new dog?”

“He owes me,” Santino insists, glossing over her needling, “and I will get what I am owed.”

She has to resist the urge to roll her eyes. “Do you know how fucking stupid you sound?” she asks, incredulous. “If I die before telling you how incredibly, disgustingly stupid you sound when you say that, then I will—”

Santino kisses her. He does it because he knows that she’s not expecting it, and it has its desired effect; she stills, all of the furious energy like bottled lightning capped again. He kisses her softly, with no rage, but she can feel it woven into the sinew of his posture.

She thinks about slapping him again. But he probably knows that, because he grabs her hands, gripping them in his; the pressure is more relaxing than it is infuriating, which almost drives her mad, but it does what Santino always does. It pulls her apart until all that’s left is the hurt, the fear, welling up inside of her like a tidal wave crashing into the shore.

“He’s doing what I asked,” he murmurs. “And then we’ll be done with John Wick. Mia piccola volpe, look at me.”

“No,” she says, trying to sound angry but it comes out an agonized sound; she’s crying before she can stop herself, tears burning the edges of her eyes and a big, wet gasping breath necessary for her to keep going. “No, I don’t want to look at you anymore, Santi—”

“He’s doing what I ask, and then I promise, you and I will be done with John Wick forever.” His voice is urgent and insistent. “The three of us, tesora. Isn’t that right? You weren’t just saying that to get back at me?”

She nods, numbly. They had been careful, because she’d said she wasn’t ready—but mistakes happened. Pills got forgotten. She wishes that she could have lied about it and kept it secret. Maybe he’d be acting differently now if she wasn’t carrying his child; maybe his face would be something else.

“Euphie,” he whispers, taking her face in his hands. “My perfect, gorgeous Euphie—my greatest piece of art.” He kisses her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. “And the one with the most bite, too, even when you are so ungrateful for the things that I do. My face still hurts.”

“Good,” Euphemia manages out, her voice wobbling. “You deserve it. Idiota.”

“Maybe,” Santi replies. He tucks her against his chest and kisses her hair. “I never thought I would piss you off enough to get you to hit me—and you did cause quite a scene in front of Wick.”

“Stop.” Just the sound of that monster’s name makes her stomach churn. “Stress is bad for the baby.”

He laughs, the first real laugh in what feels like days since he’s decided on this path with John Wick. “Fine, I will not mention him again. But know that after this, it will be done. Permanently. Forever. Si? Tell me you understand, Euphie.”

She’s so tired. She’s so tired down into her core, the kind of tired that doesn’t go away with a nap or a cup of coffee. “Si,” she replies, closing her eyes. “Capisco, Santi.”

Somehow, Santi’s words that things will be done “permanently” with John Wick only manage to make her more uneasy.

She can’t remember what exactly carries her through the rest of the evening. She remembers calling her mother to check on her, to ask if she’s keeping up with her meetings. She can’t bring herself to come clean about the surprise pregnancy; it’s early, anyway, and her mother would only stress her out more.

“Sei la mia stella più preziosa,” her mother says. “Ti amo, Effie.”

“Yes, mama,” Euphie sighs, unable to say the words back. “Buona notte.”

She hits the red end call button on the phone screen, setting it face-down on the countertop and leaning her palms against the marble. God, she knows that she’d fucking kill a man for a drag of a cigarette—but she could never. Not now. Not when she has—

The sound of paper on the countertop stirs her from her half-bent position. Santino slides it across to her, setting a pen down next to her hand. It’s their marriage certificate. He’s already signed it, and while she stares at it numbly, he takes her left hand and puts the engagement ring back on her finger, but this time with the diamond wedding band he’d picked out as well.

“Santi,” she starts, but he tsks his tongue, quieting her. She’s too tired to be offended.

“Sign the certificate, amore,” he says. “Do not fuss. You’re going to stop throwing this ring at me, yes?”

There are a million reasons not to sign it: but the words that came out of her mouth are, “We don’t have the witnesses or the officiant.”

“Do we need a witness or officiant greater than God himself?” Santino replies. He leans against the counter from the other side, watching her. He is polished, pristine. Any remains of her earlier transgression against him are now completely gone, at least the physical marks. She’s sure that he won’t forget very soon that she raised a hand against him. “Sign it, Euphie, and be my wife.”

She stares at the paper. She feels like she’s melting; her life can’t be real anymore, not when John Wick was, just hours ago, feet away from her, and she’s pregnant, and now Santino is asking her to sign their marriage certificate right now.

The implications fill her with dread. What’s the rush? If nothing’s wrong, if they’ll be done with John Wick, what’s the rush?

“You said that you had nothing before me,” Santino says, breaking her out of her eerie, absent-minded disconnect. He brushes the hair from her face. “You will never have nothing again.”

Euphemia signs the certificate in a haze. It doesn’t feel any different after; she doesn’t feel different and neither does Santino in relation to her, and the realization that they had felt married for a few years now sinks down on her.

Santino rounds the counter to her, taking her face and kissing her; her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, the corner of her mouth and eventually just kissing her. His hand smooths over her stomach, admiring, and he brushes their noses together.

“Perfetto e tutto mio,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “Isn’t that right, Euphemia?”

She replies, without thinking, “Si, sono tuo.”

Always, she thinks, always yours, whether I like it or not.

[keijifairy]

meeting your younger sibling 〃

♡ midoriya izuku, bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto

genre. fluff!!!

author's note. i recently watched heroes rising and im still so 🥺 the big three as big brothers (and mayhaps dad! katsuki hngngngnggggg) makes me hella emotional so i made this <3

༘ midoriya izuku

you had to stay home and miss classes to look over your younger brother for the day

you informed your boyfriend izuku in advance, and he even wrote you notes on everything you missed :(

after a tiring school day had ended, he packed his things + a cute extra notebook for your notes and doodles that never failed to put a smile on your face

he quickly changes from his school uniform, planning to head over to your house to check up on you, not forgetting to ask you beforehand

he comes over and is immediately greeted with an embrace from you as soon as you open the door

his poor heart is still not used to the abundance of affection you shower him with, and he always makes sure to return it back (though with more stuttering and heat in his cheeks)

"go ahead, i'll get us some food." you tell him, as he enters your home, already disappearing into the kitchen

it's the first time he's meeting your little brother, and he spots him quietly laying on his stomach at the living room, and coloring on an all might coloring book

he goes 🥺🥺🥺

your brother looks up, a yellow crayon in his hand as he makes eye contact with a gushing izuku

the latter introduces himself, his eyes twinkling and a soft smile stretched in his lips. "hello!! i'm izuku~!"

your brother only tilts his head and blinks without a word, and casually averts his attention back to his coloring book

he takes the book in his hands, standing up and quietly walks in front of your boyfriend who is crouched to match his height

the child holds up the coloring book, a page of an unfinished colored portrait of all might shown, beside izuku's head

izuku only giggled, confused but isn't too bothered, as he's too focused on the cuteness of your brother. 

he's obviously already attached !!

"you…" the five year old trails off, with wonder glinting in his eyes as he averts his gaze back and forth between the drawing of all might and the boy in front of him. "look like a good hero."

izuku swears his heart started melting

your brother has always looked up to heroes, like izuku was (and still is) ever since he was a little child. your brother's always so excited to hear you talk about being a hero in training, and of course, he's aware about the stories of deku. you always talked about him like the greatest hero in the world with sparkles in your eyes

to hear a little kid casually complimenting him like that had izuku's heart go all 💞

before he could even utter a response, your brother takes his hand, making izuku stand up, letting himself get gently dragged to the spot the child was on

your brother lays back on his stomach, snatching a blue crayon from the ground and pointing it to your boyfriend

"want to color with me?"

you coo silently to yourself, hiding in the kitchen as you press the camera button to capture the nth photo that is set to be your lock screen

༘ bakugou katsuki

'how do u make a baby sleep'

'??? tf should i know'

katsuki may not be the best quiet person to be around a baby, but you're desperate and tired and your baby sister just isn't at all !!

so ten minutes before your boyfriend's bed time and way past your sister's, you had managed to bug him enough to come over your house and help you put her to sleep

your hair is a mess, baby food is splattered on your shirt, and your eyebags are deepening (school works have been piling up), and the first thing katsuki tells you as he steps into your house is, "you look like shit."

you only roll your eyes, a yawn escaping your lips. "thanks, i'm flattered."

your sister is wailing like the baby she is, as she wildy waves around the empty milk bottle in her hand. toys are littered on the floor and baby powder is spilled on the kitchen counter at some point. it looks like a hurricane had passed by your house !

"what were you feeding her?" 

"baby food and two bottles of milk." you sigh, taking the bottle from her hand to wash it

you look over at him, a tired smile straining your lips. "sorry i asked you to come over so late, katsuki." 

"here," his eyes darted everywhere to the walls to avoid your curious eyes, as he gently shoves a plastic of food into your hands. "you can't sleep on an empty stomach."

is he....blushing...?

you take the plastic, the sleep in your face disappearing, your smile widening as you shuffle through its contents. "...and diapers?"

he scoffs, and you're absolutely correct; his cheeks are flushed! "just in case you ran out or something..."

"awww, thank youuu." you giggle, and katsuki clicks his tongue , mumbling a whatever like the tsundere but big softie inside he is

you ask him if he wants to hold your baby sister, and with a sigh, he does

he doesn't want to tell you that he can't bear to see you tiring yourself. as soon as he saw you so worn out and not getting enough sleep like you promised him, he felt his heart clenching painfully. so whatever it is, he'll always do anything for you (even if he acts so annoyed and reluctant most of the time)

there's that constant furrow of his brows and scowl in his lips, but when her cries suddenly cease and her tiny hand holds up to cover his whole thumb as she looks at him with her pretty doe eyes, you see how his own soften and how he seems to freeze for a split second

from the shape of your brows, and to the curve of your cupid's bow, your adorable baby sister truly resembles you

and katsuki found himself silently admiring her, as he sneakily catches a glimpse of you in the corner of his eye, in utter disbelief and amazement on how her eyes slowly flutters shut in the arms of the normally loud boy

you stand there at the corner, breathing out a soft laugh 

he's going to be a great dad, you just know it

this is what i like to call jay is whipped for kacchan <3

༘ todoroki shouto

shouto had asked you out on a date today, but unfortunately, your parents had left the house and asked you to look over your eight year old sister

'i'm so sorry i bailed on you, shouto :( do you wanna hang out at my house instead tho haha 👉👈'

baby boy was really understanding, and quickly agreed to move your little date at home instead

'it's fine. at least i still get to see you.'

while waiting for shouto to come over, you just couldn't help but brag about the best boyfriend ever to your little sister

you showed her your whole album of photos of shouto: confused selfies with a blush on his cheeks, stolen shots of him literally doing anything, and photographs you had taken of him during dates. what a model

"i don't think he's your boyfriend." your sister deadpans, eyebrow raising suspiciously at you

you snickered, basically shoving your phone at her face; a photo taken by ashido of shouto silently fixing the strands of hair framing your face as he stood in front of you, while you only sat there, staring at him with hearts in your eyes aka your lock screen 🥰

she only shrugs, pushing the phone away. "maybe it's edited."

"WHY YOU LITT—"

ding dong

did i fail to mention that even though your sister seemed utterly fazed by the perfection called your boyfriend, she was already dressed in her elsa costume from halloween and even had the audacity to use your makeup? you only narrowed your eyes at her as she smugly presented herself to you

she's unusually quiet now though, trailing after you as you open the door and greet the man himself

"my love, my darling, my angel~" you beam innocently at a dumbfounded shouto at your doorstep. he surely wasn't expecting such an affectionate greeting, with the hue of pink painting his cheeks making him so obvious

"hello….my love…darling….angel…" he looked so adorably confused, eyes blinking owlishly and the corners of his lips tugging up slightly

"come in~"

as he enters, he quickly notices your little sister clinging on your legs, innocently gazing up at him with her mouth agape

"hello…" 

"are you really my sister's boyfriend?" she blurts out, shamelessly pointing at you with a bewildered look on her face

he's unbothered though, nodding swiftly and meeting your eyes. "yes."

"why?" oh, she is so going to get it !!!

shouto blinks, averting his gaze fully to you with confusion swirling in his eyes

"because i like her."

"but why?" "stop—"

"because…" his cheeks had gone a full shade of red, but his face remained still, not removing his gaze at you. "she's beautiful and kind."

your heart is beating a bit too loud for your liking hahaha

your sister cranes her neck to look up at you, squinting her eyes in disbelief and you gasp, obviously offended. "you believe me now?"

"only because he's—" she lowers her voice, cutely puffing out her cheeks—"cute."

"you are so—"

"let it go, sis."

long story short, let's just say your competition for shouto todoroki just got added by one (1) evil elsa wannabe sister.

[cosmiclatte28]

The Wall(Jaemin story)

Hello, this was a super quick writing I did. I lowkey spent 45 minutes of free writing. This comes up after reading the first part of the book Five (I had to read this for a class) and this keeps bothering my mind. So, now I warn you Jaemin is a rich guy here who is nice but the other members are a bit snobby and ignorant like rich people in the past. I just want to idk remind people that history once showed how two separate society tier destroyed lots of people and that actually at the moment, it is still happening somewhere out there. We can make changes. Idk i just wanna try to write again and I hope this is either inspiring or make sense Warning : poor girl, (y/n) is a laundry girl, snobby members, rich and poor mentioned explicitly. rough hand (?) but yeah it's not a romance a/n : i am just trying to write again, i'm taking my writing to fiction class and i am so nervous coz everyone looks so good but i will try and keep practicing. thank you for staying..

His younger self cannot understand how the social tier works, nor does his current young mature self. Jaemin smooths his hair back and tightens his neck tie while he watches his proportionally healthy reflection of himself in the mirror. His mind keeps running to the wall that separated the people of the west and the east. As much as he remembers, his father only brought him once there because he wanted to show him about what’s beyond the wall and how he should be grateful he lives in the East side, where all the riches party and shower in luxuries. Jaemin was seven when he witnessed a young dirty lad pick up moldy bread from the trash and popped it into his mouth with gleeful eyes. Until this day, his fifteen year old self cannot get the idea of why social status barred two different lives. Moreover, why the rich cannot help the poor by raising them to be their wife or adopted family.

“Your tie will choke you if you keep tightening it Jaem,” his older brother pops his head into the room. Jaemin smiles and takes his arms down. “What’s so special about dinner?” he questions his brother who is once again fixing his appearance.

Renjun sighs, “We need to present ourselves clean and tidy or we are just like the,” Renjun gives his eyebrow some wiggles and Jaemin blurts out the words “The West people?” Renjun nods “The commoners and poors.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes “You mean the humans living on the other side of the walls.”

“Why are we always talking about this?” Renjun finally shoots a questioning look to the taller guy.

Jaemin shrugs his shoulders “I don’t know why we, the rich, cannot share and make the poor live equally like us.”

“That is because you are too young to understand that.” his oldest brother, Doyoung, appears in the reflection.

“But we can share, we tone down our living style, give this money to the poor and make them slowly have a better life.” Jaemin still stands still despite seeing how Renjun and Doyoung are both already rushing to use their shoes and checking the clock. Their two brothers sigh “And if we do that, won’t that make us poorer?” Both of them ask the youngest, and Jaemin almost talks back but he doesn’t feel like arguing against two of them, so he internally thanks the gods when Doyoung cuts him off.

“We’ll be late if you don’t stop questioning and wear your shoes now. Quick Jaemin, time is expensive.” Doyoung pauses midway to toss the younger a pair of socks and rushes down the hallway.

On the ride to the fancy restaurant his father booked for a regular Friday, Jaemin keeps thinking alone.

It has always been in his mind how can he understand this society level thing and how can he make a change. He didn’t know it was about time he will meet a special someone who really moves his heart and makes him very motivated to make changes for the society.

--

Jaemin is eighteen when he accidentally sees you working in his best friend’s washing room. He was lost in his thought when looking for the bathroom. Despite knowing Jeno’s (his bestfriend) house by heart he somehow that day stumbles into you.

His heart skips a beat the moment he sees you looking graceful while pouring your energy and emotion into washing the clothes.

“Oh, sorry. I am afraid you missed the bathroom.” you blurt and secretly whisper that you shouldn’t have done that and now your job is in danger. However, Jaemin shakes his head. You are surprised that he doesn’t get mad!

“What are you doing here?” he asks, while his eyes wander along the tubs of clothes, all separated by colors, some soaked in soap water, some in water only.

“I am working as you can see,” you continue doing your task, “Washing the laundry of the Lee family.”

“And how much are you paid?” Jaemin clasps his mouth when he sees your face turn surprised. “I am sorry, I shouldn't have asked that.” he turns super red and you only smile weakly “It’s okay, I should answer all questions a man proposed to me.” you bitterly smile.

Jaemin must have seen how uncomfortable you are so he changes his question and upon seeing your figure he questions,“Forget that, but does Mr. Lee give you food?”

You almost laugh out loud but you just stay silent. “Judging by your cleanliness and your clothes, you sure are a nobel too. Mayhaps a friend of the young master, but you sure don’t know much stuff.”

If this is any other rich man, you are fired right now, but to Jaemin, your answers spark curiosity.

“Then explain to me young lady, what’s your name?” he reaches out his hand and you look at it confusedly. Gingerly you wipe your wet hands into your working gown and shakingly you take his hand into yours. “(y/n) young lord.” He makes a firm grip and shakes your hand, making an internal note at how rough your hand is. “Jaemin.” You gasp in your heart at how soft his hand is, must be a man who never works in his life.

“I’m afraid I must continue to work.” your eyes grow wide when you hear footsteps coming to your place. Jaemin is still shocked from the whole thing and he freezes.

“Jaem? What are you doing in the laundry room, our restroom is not even here.” A deep voice, he believes belongs to Jaehyun or Jeno’s brother, echoes.

“Oh, I’m sorry.I was just lost in my head.” Jaemin quickly turns his head away, his other hand leaves a wave to you and you feel your heart warms a little. Not all rich men are annoying!

---

After his play date at Jeno's house, Jaemin is back seated in his room. His head is trying to remember if he ever hears anything about working as a laundry girl. To no avail, none of his classes mentioned it. He just brings his mind back to how frail you look, how tiring it must be to wash loads of dirty clothes every day, takes them out to the drying room in the attic and hangs the big sheets over strong strings.

“Doyoung, have you ever tried washing your clothes?” Jaemin pops his head inside Doyoung’s study room and the oldest just shakes his head, not even sparing a glance.

“Does the lady doing our laundry get proper food and wages?”

His brother looks up and sadly shakes his head “Proper wages are only for people who run their own company. Those labor workers, they only have enough to pay for their food for one day and maybe rent a bed for sleeping. Why?”

Jaemin clenches his fist, “Then why can’t dad pay them better? Give them food from our tables.”

Renjun shows up upon hearing the commotion from his room, “It’s because society is selfish.”

“Then we need to stop it.”

The two big brothers laugh “You’re too naive and too young. Why don’t you go back and finish your reading? History needs your attention and stop thinking about the poor.”

The youngest feels ridiculed by the answer. No, he is not too naive or too young. He just wants what is best and equal for everyone, especially for (y/n). He needs to know if she can read or if she has someone else to help her raise money for surviving, he wants that rough hand to be soft like his or maybe his soft hand can be a little bit rough. He finds out from the kind laundry lady their family has that their hands become rough from the strong detergent they have to deal with every day.

The young man is more than determined to find a way to live their life and understand how hard it is to be a less rich person. He needs to make changes and he knows exactly how to do it.

He is sad Jeno’s house is far from his, he cannot sneak his way to give you some foods or help you wash but every time he makes a visit to Jeno’s house he used to say he needs to take some fresh air alone, and what he did was secretly come to you and helps you hang the laundry. You forbid him from washing it because you know his rough hand will be a question to his family. But the effort of hanging heavy wet clothes is enough to actually make Jaemin skip his morning classes the next day. When his brothers ask him why, he slides it off as he is feeling sick. Yes he is sick of how society works, and as the future law maker of the town. Since Doyoung is assigned to be the king and Renjun is next in line but he chooses to just be the advisor, Jaemin will take part as the law maker. All he needs to do is fix the law, propose it to his brothers and he believes with enough evidence and proper explanation he can make the poor lives better.

It is still a long and tough journey, but because he keeps learning secretly, he can edit and fix his law one by one.

He wants equity and equalism, he doesn’t want to see a wall anymore and he doesn’t want to hide behind the comfort of being born as the rich.

All thanks to you, (y/n), the laundry girl he shook hands with.

end

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