#good thing it happened before they were formally introduced thank god i only have to fix a few tags

[secondsonaym]

OH

APPARENTLY THEY PATCHED THE MOTH BEING NAMED RATAU ERROR

THEIR NAME IS MONCH....

[legends-of-time]

The Journey of Living at Downton

Chapter 8: Autumn 1916

Masterlist

A lot changes after the war is declared. It has difficult listening to people discuss the war as if it would be over by Christmas but Emma knows that isn't going to happen.

It is not only the war that caused things to change as Gwen left soon after for her new job. Emma had insisted that they should try to keep in contact as much as possible.

Emma soon learns from O'Brien, who's been writing to Thomas, that joining the medical corps has not kept him from the front. Despite her anger with Thomas, her worry overcomes it as she imagines him having to be out there probably moving the injured off the battlefield or something similar. Emma writes to him about her wishing him well and how current circumstances overcome past grievances. Thomas welcomed her letter, though liked to remind her it's Corporal Barrow now, and they have set a correspondence ever since.

In the first half of 1916, The Military Service Act went into effect. It was the first time that legislation had been passed in British military history introducing conscription. The Act specified that men from 18 to 41 years old were liable to be called up for service in the army. Not long after, Ireland declares independence though Emma knows that won't be formally recognised yet. She knew all about this due to Mr Branson, who felt very strongly about it all and she couldn't blame him.

The battle of the Somme has begun by now and every mention of it in the newspapers brings shivers down her spine.

The house is all go go go in preparing for the benefit concert to raise money for the Hospital as well as the return of Mr Crawley, now Lieutenant Crawley, after having been away at war for a couple of days. Though this is all for a good cause, Emma doesn't have a hand in the actual event, which has been making her feel a bit useless considering the national crisis.

Anna is giving the new maid Ethel, and her new roommate, the rundown about how they all work. Though Emma finds out that the new girl thinks quite highly of herself when Anna drops her off in the Library where Emma is so she can give her a run down in there.

Ethel fluffs a pillow by tossing it in the air.

"You drop the cushions on the floor as the force plumps them up." Emma tells her.

"I know." Comes the short response. Well alright.

Mrs Hughes comes through. "Ethel, are you settling in?"

Ethel drops a pillow on the floor. "I would be if Anna and Emma would stop teaching me how to suck eggs. I was Head Housemaid in my last position." Emma rolls her eyes.

"You were Senior Housemaid out of two in a much smaller house." Mrs Hughes reminds her.

"Is anyone coming in here tonight?" Emma asks.

"Only at the interval, and keep them out of the Drawing room. I thought Mr Bates would've been back by now, or he could've stood guard." Mrs Hughes says before leaving.

"Who is this Mr Bates?" Ethel asks.

"He's His Lordship's Valet. He's been in London because his mother died." Emma answers. "Apparently they had the funeral last Monday."

"Well, everyone talks about him as if he were king," Ethel adds.

Emma snorts. "Well, I'm not sure about that but he's quite good at getting things done."

The Dowager Countess of Grantham then enters. "Emma." She curtsies. "Help me do battle with this... monstrosity." The Dowager stares at the hideous flower arrangement on the table as Ethel and Emma glance at each other in bewilderment. "Looks like a creature from the Lost World." She starts pulling out flowers. Well thank God, she said it.

Emma steps forward to assist her with sorting out the flowers while Ethel leaves shortly after and when Lord and Lady Grantham and Mrs Crawley enter, Emma is collecting the flowers the Dowager had removed and taking them away.

"Thank you." The Dowager says to her. Emma nods politely.

——

Emma is going back up the stairs in the servants' staircase to the door into the Great Hall when she collides with the back of Miss O'Brien.

"What?" Emma hisses at her. She simply puts a finger to her lips to continue listening to what Emma then sees to be Mrs Crawley and Lady Sybil.

"No, I d- I don't mean selling programs or finding prizes for the Tombola, I want to do a real job. Real work. Emma and I have been talking about it." Miss O'Brien raises a judgmental eyebrow at Emma but she shrugs cause what's wrong with that?

"Well, if you are serious, what about being an auxiliary nurse? There's a training college in York. I know I could get you two onto a course. It may be something of a rough awakening for you. Are you ready for that? I mean, have you ever made your own bed, for example, or scrubbed a floor. I know Emma has, but have you?" Mrs Crawley sees her and O'Brien eaves dropping though Emma is sure Miss O'Brien was the one with sinister intentions. "O'Brien, what is it?"

O'Brien steps forward, "Mr Platte is taking Her Ladyship and Lady Grantham down to the Village, she wondered if you'd like to go with them."

"That's very kind. Thank you."

O'Brien leaves and Emma takes her chance to come over to them. "You'd be able to get us places Mrs Crawley?"

The woman nods. "Perhaps."

"Go on. What else would we need?" Lady Sybil urges.

"Well, if you're serious, what about cooking? Why don't you ask Mrs Patmore if she could give you one or two basic tips. When you get to York, it might be useful to know a little more than nothing. I don't suppose Emma has had a chance to cook."

"No Ma'am." Not for a while anyway or with this time period's appliances.

Mrs Crawley smiles and strokes Lady Sybil's chin affectionately. Lady Sybil and Emma smile back.

——

In the Servants' Hall, Daisy is shelling peas, Anna and Emma polish, William mends a shirt, Mr Branson reads the newspaper, and Gemma and Miss O'Brien sew.

Emma sits by Mr Branson and Gemma telling them both quietly all about what Mrs Crawley had suggested to her and Lady Sybil.

"It'll give me a chance to spread my skills," Emma speaks. "Who knows what'll happen after that."

"That sounds great Emma," Gemma says encouragingly and Mr Branson smiles warmly at Emma and she hopes he doesn't notice her reddening cheeks.

Mrs Patmore comes in, "Where's the butter for the pancakes?"

"It's in the cold larder," Daisy says.

"Are we having pancakes tonight?" Ethel questions as she sits there filing her nails and Emma can't help but roll her eyes at her.

"Are we 'eck as like." Miss O'Brien remarks.

"Upstairs dinner, Crepes Suzette." Mrs Patmore explains.

Ethel gasps, "I've always wanted to try those. Could you save me some? If they don't finish them all."

Mrs Patmore looks at her in some sort of disbelief. "Er, save you some Crepe Suzette?"

Mr Branson regards Mrs Patmore. Anna, Gemma and Emma share smiles at the strange request.

"If you don't mind." Ethel files her nails. "What are we having?"

"Lamb stew and semolina." Whoop.

"Do you eat a lot of stews?" Ethel asks.

"Don't you fancy that, dear?" Mrs Patmore questions sarcastically.

"Not all the time." It's going to be a problem if she keeps thinking so highly of herself.

"Oh, I see. And would you like to sleep in Her Ladyship's bedroom while you're at it?"

Ethel looks up. "Wouldn't mind. I hate sharing a room. I didn't in my last place." God, why does she keep bringing that up?

"There were only two maids and a cook." Anne points out, probably for the millionth time.

"Well, I'm just saying."

"And I'll just say if you don't lookout." Mrs Patmore snaps. Ethel smiles in amusement as Mrs Patmore leaves.

"You've got a cheek on your first day." Miss O'Brien says.

"Tell me about it," Emma mutters, literally the first day and she's already finding her annoying. Mr Branson snorts.

"I don't see why," Ethel replies, clearly not having heard Emma. "I want the best and I'm not ashamed to admit it."

"And you think we don't?"

"I think it's hard to change at your age." Emma's jaw drops at that. "I don't blame you. But I suppose, in the end, I want to be more than just a servant." Well, she's in trouble now.

——

Lady Sybil and Emma go to Mrs Patmore for more assistance for extra tips on cooking. To be honest Emma is there to re-familiarise herself with the rules of cooking though mostly as moral support.

"Well, it would be our secret. A surprise. You don't mind, do you?" Lady Sybil finished.

Mrs Patmore is flustered, "Oh, it's not that I mind, Milady."

"And I only need the basics. How to boil an egg. How to make tea." Lady Sybil explains.

"Don't you know how to make tea?" Mrs Patmore asks surprised.

Lady Sybil fidgets embarrassed. "Not really."

The other Kitchen servant girls giggle.

Emma jumps to her defence. "Well in her defence she's not exactly been in a situation where she needs to."

"Exactly. I know you see it as a joke. But when I start my course, I don't want to be a joke. Will you help me?" Lady Sybil pleads.

Daisy pipes up then. "Of course, we will, won't we?"

Mrs Patmore sighs. "If you say so. Emma, you know how to make tea though don't you?" Emma nods. "Well let's get started Milady. Do you know how to fill a kettle?"

"Everyone knows that." Lady Sybil takes the kettle from Mrs Patmore and goes to the tap. She opens the valve and water sprays all over. The servants laugh.

"Not everyone, apparently." Mrs Patmore remarks.

——

Emma finishes Lady Mary's hair as she sits at her dresser while Lady Sybil sits on the bed; Lady Grantham and Lady Edith sit in chairs. Anna is putting away some dresses in the wardrobe.

"Glad to be back?" Lady Sybil asks.

"I'm never sure. When I'm in London, I long for Yorkshire, and when I'm here, I ache to hear my heels clicking on the pavement. I'd forgotten about this nightmare concert. Why didn't you warn me? I'd have come back tomorrow." Lady Mary complains as she dabs some perfume on herself.

Lady Edith takes the opportunity to gloat, "But you'd have missed Matthew." Lady Mary pauses in surprise. Emma frowns at Lady Edith internally as all of this is partly her fault.

"I was going to tell you. Matthew's on leave and he's in the Village, so Papa and I thought it would be a good time to mend our fences. He's coming tonight with Isobel." Her Ladyship carefully says.

Lady Edith is still gloating, "And his fiancée."

"What?"

"Edith. I don't know how helpful you're being." Her Ladyship admonishes.

"Matthew's engaged. He's brought her to Downton to meet his mother." Lady Sybil explains.

She listens in continued surprise before quickly covering up how she really feels, "Well, how marvellous." Emma finishes her hair and she stands up and walks over to her full length mirror in the corner, taking her gloves with her.

"You don't mind?"

"Why should I? We're not going to marry, but I don't want him to spend the rest of his life in a cave." Lady Mary cheerfully says, pulling on her gloves. Emma pauses in her further fiddling with her dress to watch her carefully, could the others not see through this façade?

"Exactly what Papa and I feel. Please try to be happy for him." Lady Grantham says.

"Of course, I'm happy! Good luck to him." Lady Edith smirks at her sister's brave face. "Anyway, there's someone I want you all to meet. Have you ever come across Richard Carlisle?" Emma stands and does the buttons on her gloves at her inner wrist.

"Sir Richard Carlisle? The one with all those horrid newspapers?" Ohh great the media.

"We met at Cliveden."

Lady Edith scoffs, "But how old is he?"

"Old enough not to ask stupid questions." Her sister snaps. "Anyway, I can't wait for you to know him. If only Papa hadn't closed down the shoot." She sits down again and I place her long necklace on her.

"Most people have stopped shooting now that the war's on. But I'm sure Papa would be happy to have Sir Richard come and stay." Lady Grantham and Lady Sybil rise to leave.

"Are you?" Lady Edith continues doubtfully. "I shouldn't have thought he was Papa's type at all."

Her mother ignores her and turns to her eldest, "You coming?"

"I'll be down in a minute." Lady Mary says with a tight smile.

Her mother and sisters leave. Emma and Anna linger, giving each other a concerned look. They turn to Lady Mary.

"Are you all right, Milady?" Anna asks.

"Oh, Anna, Emma." She breaks down crying. Anna and Emma each put a comforting hand on her shoulders.

"You'll get through this Milady," Emma tells her.

——

Everyone is gathering in the Hall for the concert, including Mr Bates who had returned at the same time as Lady Mary, when Emma notices a few stares from the family towards the door. She looks to see Lieutenant Crawley standing with Lord Grantham and a younger woman who's more of a strawberry blonde with it up in a modern, for this lot, updo and similar taste in dress. This must be Miss Lavinia Swire.

As Emma watches Lady Mary meet Miss Swire, she feels almost proud of her for how pleasant she is towards her instead of being horrible. The reunion between Lady Mary and Lieutenant Crawley seems a bit awkward but ends well so that's good.

The concert begins and shortly after, two women stand up and start handing out white feathers. One hands a feather to William, who Emma is sitting next to. Oh god, she knows what this means.

"What is it?" William asks.

"A white feather, of course, Coward."

Lord Grantham turns around and stands up. "Stop this at once!" The music stops and William stands.

Lord Grantham continues yelling, "This is neither the time nor the place!"

The other girl speaks then, "These people should be aware that there are cowards among them."

"Will you please leave? You are the cowards here, not they!" Mr Bates stands, also angry, and the women leave. Lord Grantham nods to William. William nods back and sits down. Emma puts her hand on his arm in an attempt to comfort him. The man already desperately wants to join the army but it's his father stopping him, not cowardice!

"Leader, will you continue?"

——

After the family has had their meal and are in the Drawing room, the servants are setting the table for their meal.

"What you reading?" Daisy asks Ethel, having noticed the magazine in her hands.

"Photo play about Mabel Normand. She was nothing when she started, you know. Her father was a carpenter and they'd no money, and now she's a shining film star." Ethel replies. Miss O'Brien walks in behind her as she talks.

"Ethel, I've a message for you from Her Ladyship. You're to go up and see her now." Miss O'Brien suddenly says. Wait what?

"What? Where?" Ethel asks in surprise.

"In the Drawing room, of course. They're all in the Drawing room." Emma then realises that O'Brien is doing this to make fun of her.

"What've I done wrong?"

"Nothing. Quite the reverse. She's very pleased with the way you've begun, and she wants to thank you." Emma covers her mouth to hide her laughter.

"Now?"

"Yes, now. She's asked for you."

Emma decides to pipe up then, "How much longer are you gonna keep her waiting? It won't look good, you know."

Ethel quickly puts away her magazine. The servants hold in their giggles in the corner. Ethel leaves in a hurry and most of them, including Emma, burst out laughing.

——

Afterwards, William rushes down to tell Emma that Mrs Crawley wants to speak with her. She knows that this wasn't a trick as it was with Ethel and she hurries up to the Great Hall to see Mrs Crawley in her coat by the servant door.

"Ah, Emma there you are!" Mrs Crawley says once she has spotted her. "I just want to let you know that the nursing course in York does have a couple of vacancies. It's short notice and you will have to start Friday."

Emma smiles. "Oh, that's brilliant Mrs Crawley thank you!"

"No problem, dear. It's good to see you wanting to do more for the war effort." She speaks. "Now I do need to leave. Don't want to keep them waiting." She leaves and Emma runs back downstairs excitedly.

——

They all sit down to breakfast in the Servants' Hall.

"I still don't understand why it was funny to make me look a fool. You weren't even there to enjoy it." Ethel grumbles.

"Oh, don't worry, we enjoyed it all right from down here." Miss O'Brien says. Emma lets out a snort and Gemma nudges her as if to tell her off but it doesn't work cause she's smiling.

"Miss O'Brien, Her Ladyship has asked me to take the incident no further. Don't tempt me to disobey." Mr Carson says. "Did I see Lady Sybil in the Kitchen yesterday?"

"She wants to learn some cooking." Mrs Patmore explains from where she stands next to him.

"She says that she's gonna train to be a nurse, so she needs to know how to cook and clean and everything," Daisy adds as she pours the contents of her jug into peoples' glasses.

"Has she told Her Ladyship about this?" Mr Carson demands.

"It's supposed to be a surprise."

"Mr Carson, it speaks well of Lady Sybil that she wants to help the wounded. Let's not give her away." Mrs Hughes says.

"Why shouldn't she learn how to cook and scrub? She may need it when the war's over. Things are changing. For her lot and us. And when they do, I mean to make the most of it." Ethel remarks. Oh, here she goes again.

Mrs Patmore laughs.

Ethel notices. "I take it they ate all the pancakes last night then?"

"They did." Bet they didn't.

——

Lady Sybil and Emma are once again in the Kitchen at the stove though Emma seems to be doing better than Lady Sybil is.

Mrs Patmore checks over their shoulders. "Well done, Emma." She says before noticing Lady Sybil's attempt. "What in Wonderland do you call that?" She sees Lady Sybil's horrified expression. "I mean, I do not fully understand what you're trying to do, Milady."

Lady Sybil shakes her head. "Oh, I knew it wasn't supposed to look like this."

"No, Milady, I would go so far as to say there is no food on the earth that is supposed to look like that." Mrs Patmore moves away.

"What do I do?" Lady Sybil asks Emma. "Why does everything go so lumpy?"

"Let's try again," Emma says as Daisy comes over.

"She's right. It's better to chuck it out and start again." Lady Sybil nods and takes the pot off the stove.

——

Emma notices Anna and Mr Bates being all cosy one evening and she pulls Anna to the side to demand answers.

"Has he proposed?" Emma asks gleefully. "Are you two making plans?"

"Yes, he has and maybe," Anna says shyly but she's beaming. Emma squeals and wraps her up into a hug.

——

The next day Lady Sybil and Emma are making their own cakes. While Emma is enjoying herself, she feels worried as she had spotted Mr Bates with, she can only assume to be, his estranged wife Vera. Emma worries about what that means.

"Now, steady. Even the most experienced cook can burn themself if they're not careful." Mrs Patmore warns as they are about to take them out of the oven. Emma is a bit nervous as she had not only spent the past 7 years in the past having never baked but she had also not done it much even before then.

"But do you think it's ready?" Lady Sybil questions. The two of them are wearing cooking aprons over their usual clothes and kitchen towels in their hands.

"I know it's ready."

"Go on, you don't want to spoil it." Daisy insists.

"Right, let's do it then," Emma says as the two of them take turns pulling their cakes out of the oven successfully.

"Ta-da." Lady Sybil says, clapping her hands together. Emma laughs. She feels someone's eyes on her. She turns to see Mr Branson grinning at her. She beams back.

Daisy and Mrs Patmore then help them finish the cakes.

——

Emma soon learns that she was right to be concerned when she saw Mr Bates' estranged wife as he handed in his notice and is leaving in the morning. Emma rushes to find Anna, who she finds in the Courtyard sobbing with Mr Bates walking away from her.

Emma grabs and pulls her into her arms and Anna sobs into her shoulder, likely soaking it. When everything is going well, it gets torn away.

Emma knows that anything she says won't have any effect so she simply takes Anna's arms and pulls her upstairs to her room. When she informs Mrs Hughes that Anna had fallen ill, while neither of them says it, Emma can see she knows what she's secretly saying.

——

Emma has packed her own bags ready and she's now in Lady Sybil's room with her sisters, mother and grandmother helping her pack. All of them are coming up with their own suggestions. Lady Sybil had previously offered Emma to wear some of her clothes once they are there as she doesn't have much.

"Where's Anna? Surely she should be helping considering you're leaving yourself." The Dowager asks.

"She's not feeling very well today, Your Ladyship," Emma replies though she knows this isn't true. "I've taken over for the time being. It's not too much trouble."

"Oh, that's so kind of you. Just make sure Lady Sybil packs things she can get in and out of without a maid. Though I suppose she'll have your help if she needs it." The Dowager says.

Lady Edith starts to pack an evening gown but Lady Sybil pulls it from her. "Oh, I don't need that. I'd never wear it." She hooks it onto the wardrobe door.

"But you must have something decent. Suppose you're invited to dinner." Her sister replies.

"I know this is hard for you to grasp, but I'm not there to go out to dinner. I'm there to learn." Lady Sybil replies.

"Take one, just in case." Lady Mary hands Lady Sybil a gown, who places it on the bed. Emma folds it for her.

"We'll miss you." Lady Edith says.

"Don't be silly. It's only two months. And I'll come home if I can, both of us." Lady Sybil says, sending a smile to Emma and she returns it.

"Why don't I drive the two of you?" Lady Edith asks. Emma remembers Mr Branson had been teaching her.

Her grandmother isn't pleased with the idea. "She's taking enough chance with her life as it is."

"Oh, Granny." Lady Edith sighs. Lady Sybil takes some clothes from Emma and puts them into her case.

"What is this driving mania?"

"It'll be useful. They won't let a healthy man drive us around for much longer. And if Sybil and Emma can be nurses, why can't I be a chauffeur?" Lady Edith remarks. Emma frowns at the idea of Mr Branson having to go off to war despite knowing how selfish that is considering.

"Well, I shall leave you. I have been summoned by Cousin Isobel for tea. Goodbye Sybil." The Dowager stands and holds out her arms for a hug, Lady Sybil embraces her with a smile. "And good luck with it all."

"Thank you for being such a sport." Her youngest granddaughter says.

"It's a big step you're taking, dear. But war deals out strange tasks. Remember your Great Aunt Roberta."

The woman goes to leave but her eldest granddaughter's voice stops her, "What about her?"

"She loaded the guns at Lucknow." Ladies Mary and Sybil raise their eyebrows at each other.

"I'll come with you. I'll tell William to fetch the bags for both of them." Lady Grantham pauses at the door on her way out. "First of you to leave the nest. And good luck Emma." Emma gives a grateful nod and she exits.

"Poor Mama. She always feels these things so dreadfully." Lady Edith remarks.

"That's her American blood." Her elder sister quips.

Lady Sybil continues packing, "I'm so glad we've settled everything with Cousin Matthew. Aren't you, Mary?"

Said woman sighs irritably, "Oh, please stop treading on eggshells. I've other fish to fry." Lady Edith scoffs.

——

Their bags are strapped to the back of the car with Lady Sybil and Emma in the back. Lady Sybil waves to her mother and sisters from the car. It is when Mr Branson pulls the car away does she begin to cry.

Emma reaches over to grab her hand. "It'll be fine. You'll be home in no time." She gives her a watery smile in return.

They reach the Hospital and it's at this point that it dawns on Emma that this is happening. She hadn't thought of ever going into nursing or anything like that in her last life and now here she is.

Mr Branson carries Lady Sybil and Emma's bags as they walk into the Hospital Courtyard where the wounded men are exercising. Several are missing limbs. Mr Branson puts their bags down in a stone corridor.

"It'll be hard for us to let you go, our last link with home," Emma says to him.

He takes off his hat. "Not as hard as it is for me." Emma's eyes widen.

"I'll leave you two." Lady Sybil says, she walks a short distance away to give them some semblance of privacy.

"Mr Branson, I—" Emma starts but she doesn't know what else to say.

"I know I shouldn't say it, but I can't keep it in any longer." He confesses.

"I wish you would," Emma mumbles. She suspected he might like her but this, the reality, scares her.

"I've told myself and told that you don't want to ruin things but I couldn't keep quiet about it anymore, your leaving reminded me how life can change. When the war is over, the world won't be the same place as it was when it started. And I'll make something of myself, I promise. There will be opportunities." He continues.

"I know you will." Emma interrupts.

"Then bet on me. I know you can't leave now, not in the middle of a war and the world scares you, but until then, I promise to devote every waking minute to your happiness." Mr Branson finishes.

"I'm terribly flattered," Emma says, flickering her eyes to the floor. She doesn't know what else should be said in this kind of situation.

"Don't say that."

"Why can't I?" Emma asks.

"Because you sound like them when you say it." He replies.

She smiles, trying to lighten the mood, "That sounds more like you."

"Please don't make fun of me. It's cost me all I've got to say these things."

"But you don't know me," Emma argues.

"I do."

"No, you really don't." She insists. God if she says yes to this, she would have to tell him. Emma stares at the ground uncomfortably.

"Right." He puts his hat back on. "I'll go. I'll hand in my notice, and I won't be there when you get back."

Her head snaps up. "No, don't do that."

"I must. They won't let me stay when they've heard what I said." Mr Branson says.

"They won't hear. Not from me nor Lady Sybil." Emma pauses. "A-and I-I'll think about it."

His head perks up and he gives her a small smile. Lady Sybil takes the opportunity to walk back over. "Sorry to interrupt but we should report to the head matron and get to our dorm."

"Right, yes, thank you Milady." He says before turning to Emma. "Goodbye, Emma."

"Goodbye." She whispers and then he turns and leaves.

——

They meet with the matron and are settled into their dorm with two other girls: Ruth Ades and Lilian Barrs. No one is to be known by their title on this course; Emma becomes known as Miss Byrne and Lady Sybil as Miss Crawley. To add to the equality, Lady Sybil insisted that Emma call her Sybil, which is going to be weird.

On this course they'll be learning first aid, home nursing and hygiene as well as cooking. They might be learning about duties that will be less technical but will no less be important, than trained nurses.

Once settled, Emma decides she should perhaps write to Mr Branson to explain what she means when she said he didn't know her. If he wants to propose to her, marry her, he needs to have all the facts.

Dear Mr Branson,

I am writing this letter to you as I feel that you deserve some answers. I meant what I said when you don't know me and that's correct. There's something about me that I haven't told anyone, something that seems insane but is true.

When I said I began working at Downton in 1909, that was the truth but what I didn't say was that I didn't exist before then. I was originally from the year 2021, the 21st century. I know you probably don't believe it but it is true. I knew the war was coming, I know when and how it ends. I have experienced the 100 year anniversaries linked with this war.

I know you probably don't believe that literally time travelled but it's true. I feel that you should know this if you want to be making any declarations like you did today.

Yours,

Emma Byrne

Short, simple and to the point; Emma doesn't know how to write letters anyway.

She quickly writes a little note to Gemma about how she is so far as well explaining that she needs to give this to Mr Branson before slipping it into the envelope where the letter is and putting her name on the front. Emma doesn't want everyone downstairs suspecting, not when she hasn't even answered him.

——

A/N: Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

[valdomarx]

“Geralt. My dearest friend. My closest companion. Light of my life, fire of my-”

Geralt narrows his eyes. “What do you want, Jaskier?”

“Seeing as how I’ve made you famous, and I flatter myself that this has eased you path somewhat, why, this very inn not only took us in but even offered us a discounted rate-”

“What do you want, Jaskier?” Testier this time.

“Ahh. Well. Let me put it plainly: I’m in need of a favour.”

Geralt raises one eyebrow, in an expression he knows speaks volumes.

“I need you to come with me to Lettenhove this winter and pose as my fiancé.”

Geralt nearly drops the sword he’s sharpening. A million thoughts whip through his mind, but one is most pressing: “Why, for Melitele’s sake?”

Jaskier waves a hand in a vague and non-descriptive gesture. “It’s a court thing, you know how families are, and my mother has made it abundantly clear that it’s time for me to settle down and this year I’m to return affianced or else she’ll select someone for me. And I can’t get hitched to some local lady, Geralt, I simply can’t, it’ll ruin my bardic appeal, not to mention my employment prospects, and of course I won’t be able to travel with you, and it’s-”

Geralt holds up a hand to ward off the wall of words. The idea of no longer travelling with Jaskier is unconscionable, not that he’d ever admit that out loud. And they spend so much time together they’re practically married anyway. How hard could it be to pretend for a few days?

“Fine,” he says gruffly.

“Oh, Geralt, you are wonderful.” Jaskier beams and throws his arms around Geralt’s neck. Geralt growls, but secretly, it’s actually rather nice.

-

“Mother, this is Geralt, my fiancé.”

Cold, clear eyes look him up and down, assessing him, and pinch into an expression suggesting he has been found wanting. Geralt decides against opening his mouth and further cementing that opinion.

“A witcher.” Her voice has the familiar twang of Jaskier’s, but with the flat, expressionless cadence he associates with the higher echelons of the aristocracy.

“A witcher!” Jaskier confirms in a cheery tone. “Isn’t that exciting?”

She sniffs in a manner which makes it clear that exciting would not be her first choice of word. “I see. He will be joining us for this year’s Yuletide?”

“He will.”

Her face draws back into the impassive mask of the well-bred. “Very well. You will stay in the east wing.”

“Thank you, mother.” Jaskier executes a stiff bow which Geralt copies and they beat a hasty retreat.

-

“That went rather well!”

Geralt blinks. “Jaskier, I’m fairly sure your mother means to have me killed in my sleep.”

“Oh, don’t mind her. She’s always like that. She’s actually softened up a lot since dear old dad died, gods rest the grumpy bastard.”

Geralt struggles to imagine how such staid, cold people could possibly have produced a son as bright and warm as Jaskier. They might as well be a different species.

Jaskier pushes open a door to a grand suite, all plush velvets and gold ornamentation, a thick woven rug underfoot. It’s the most opulent room Geralt has ever seen, but Jaskier pays it no mind and throws his bag casually on the bed.

“We’ll have to stay here together,” he says apologetically, not looking Geralt in the eye. “But the bed is plenty big, or I can sleep on the sofa if you’d rather -”

Geralt is still taking it all in: The space, the furnishings, the frankly enormous bed which looks divinely comfortable. And there, through the next room, that looks like-

“Is that a copper bathtub?” he asks, eyes wide. Such luxuries were a rarity indeed.

Jaskier grinned. “It is. Let me get some food sent up and I’ll wash your hair?”

Geralt grumbles, just for the effect, and decides that putting up with tedious aristocracy might have its benefits after all.

-

Yule festivities in Lettenhove are, mercifully, a mere matter of days. First there is the fitting for formal attire, which Geralt scowls through but Jaskier promises will be made up for with plenty of good food and wine. Then there are several deeply tedious aristocratic parties, which Jaskier sails through and Geralt spends mostly hiding in dark corners, as is his wont.

Occasionally, Jaskier will grab him by the hand and introduce him as, “Geralt, my husband-to-be,” and something funny will flip over in his stomach which will require several drinks to settle. When he returns to his dark corner he’ll find his heart pumping a little faster as his eyes track Jaskier flitting around the room. It’s probably just indigestion from all the rich food.

Then there is the formal family Yuletide dinner, a spectacularly awkward and singly unpleasant evening spent around a long, cold table with Jaskier’s mother and various cousins, who regard Geralt with expressions ranging from bland disinterest to active hostility. The food is heavy beyond measure and the conversation cruel and bland by turns.

They cover the need for raising taxes, the many failings of the servant class, and the petty squabbles over jewels and titles that seems to be the bread and butter of these people. With each hateful line, Geralt feels his blood rising. If it weren’t for Jaskier making pleading eyes at him, he’d take great pleasure in explaining some hard truths to them.

When a cousin begins expounding on useless lazy peasants in the estate, complaining that they can’t work because of plague, but we all know they’re simply idle, Geralt grits his teeth so hard that he swears the sound must be audible.

Beneath the table, Jaskier takes his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. Staring down at their joined hands, Geralt detaches from these awful people and their awful conversation and focuses on the simple warmth of Jaskier’s fingers intertwined with his own.

-

They make their escape from dinner as soon as can be considered polite, and Geralt takes a second to lean against the door to their room, breathing deeply.

“You did well not to throttle anyone,” Jaskier says with a reassuring smile. “If we’d had to listen to cousin Edrick for a minute longer, I might have launched over the table with a carving knife myself.”

Geralt reaches for him without thinking, and once again Jaskier’s hand slips into his own. It’s grounding, to feel something genuine in this place surrounded by artifice.

“Come on,” Jaskier says. “Let’s get out of here.”

Geralt doesn’t even ask where they’re going before nodding.

-

They sneak away from the estate out of the servants’ door and follow a winding path toward a cluster of lights in the valley below. The path into Lettenhove town is quiet and calm, and as they walk the snow begins to fall in soft flurries, covering the ground in a peaceful white blanket.

The town looks picture perfect when they arrive, a charming jumble of thatched cottages and a small, cosy inn from which bright light spills out into the snowy night. When they enter the barmaid runs over to hug Jaskier and the proprietor slaps him on the back, and Jaskier has a kind word and a waved greeting for every person in there.

Geralt feels something unwind in his chest, something he hadn’t realised was tight and twisted until now. Seeing Jaskier in his element, among people who love him for who he is, instead of among that cold, hateful family, he feels right in a way he hasn’t for days.

Jaskier is already buying drinks and passing them around, and he excitedly waves Geralt over. “Bree, Geoffrey,” he addresses the couple behind the bar, “This is Geralt.” A shy smile sneaks over his face. “My fiancé.” The couple gasp in delight and congratulate Jaskier, then they’re embracing Geralt like old friends and pushing a drink into his hands.

“Come on, Geralt, join us!” Bree smiles warmly. “It’ll be the ten o’clock bells soon, and we must have Jaskier lead us in a song.”

The evening is a whirl of music and dance and loud, terrible singing, which the entire town seems to join in. For once there is no corner for Geralt to hide in, so he stays by Jaskier’s side, basking in the reflected glow of these people’s clear adoration of his bard.

-

When the midnight bell chimes and Geoffrey turns them all out for the night, the revelers wend their way home still singing and drinking. As the place empties out, Jaskier slides over to Bree to press a kiss to her cheek and a bulging purse into her hand. She tries to wave him off but Jaskier tucks the money behind the counter all the same, and Geralt watches, a deep wave of fondness sweeping through him.

The snow is still falling when they step out into the now-quiet street, soft, fat flakes drifting lazily from the sky and sticking in Jaskier’s hair. His cheeks are flushed pink and his hair falls in an messy sweep over his eyes; without thinking Geralt reaches out to brush it away behind his ear. Jaskier’s blush deepens as he does so, but he shivers in the cold.

“Here.” Geralt unclasps the thick cloak from around his neck and sweeps it over Jaskier’s shoulders. Jaskier’s mouth forms a little o of surprise and he looks up at Geralt, something tender in his eyes.

Geralt’s gaze is caught by the snow flakes settling on Jaskier’s lashes; he’s so focused that he almost jumps when Jaskier reaches out to take his hand. The sky seems to glow with a soft orange light as the clouds reflect the last few fires in the town below; everything is warm with Jaskier’s hand in his despite the chill in the air.

“Thank you,” Jaskier says softly. “For being here with me.” And leaning in, his breath caressing over Geralt’s face, he touches his lips to Geralt’s cheek in a ghost of a kiss.

Suddenly it occurs to Geralt that this will be it, tomorrow they’ll head back on the path like none of this ever happened, no more holding hands or being close, no more being introduced as Jaskier’s betrothed. And despite the hellish parts of this experience he really doesn’t want it to end. He likes being Jaskier’s person, and he likes Jaskier being his.

They are still standing close together, mere inches between them, and it’s no effort at all to lean in, slowly, cautiously, to find Jaskier’s lips with his own, to place a tentative kiss there. And then Jaskier’s hands are fisting in his shirt and tugging him closer still, and his arms go around his waist and Jaskier is kissing him back like he’s been waiting for it, their mouths slotting together like they were made to fit each other, and everything is blazingly bright like the white of the snow.

When they pull apart they stay with foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air, and Geralt can see a smile cracking wide over Jaskier’s face.

“I like being engaged to you,” Geralt says quietly, unable to keep it in.

Jaskier’s smile widens even further. “I like being engaged to you too,” he says. He kisses him again. “Fiancé.” Another kiss. “Husband to be.” And another. “Partner.” One more. “Beloved.”

“I like the sound of those.” He suspects he may be wearing the same dopey grin as Jaskier is.

“Then let’s make it official.” Jaskier bites his lip. “Marry me?”

Jaskier is a picture of perfection, eyes gleaming and cheeks ruddy, snowflakes in his hair. Geralt’s heart has always been right here.

“I’d be honoured.” He considers for a second. “But not in Lettenhove.”

Jaskier’s laugh sparkles with joy. “Anywhere but here.”

[chazukekani]

SPOILER ALERT 

Here is the quick summary of the first 60 pages of Stormbringer that just revealed today. 

Special thanks to Nika, Amir, and my discord server members for proof-reading!

— That is, the 169th possibility

— ‘You are late, my brother.’

Content

Prologue

Code:01 A programme with 2383 lines, just an idea from a group of researchers

Code 02: Dead people do not possess any form of emotion

Code 03: I want to observe Chuuya’s suffer as a human

Code 04: Grantors of disgrace, you need not wake me again

Epilogue

Afterthought

Harukawa Sango ‘Stormbringer’ Character Setting Gallery

-

Pre-prologue

Fate whispers to warriors,

‘You cannot go against the storm.’

Warriors whisper back

‘I am the storm.’

— Cao Zhi ‘Luo Shen Fu’

-

Prologue

It began in a forest at midnight. It was supposed to be a peaceful night, but suddenly a beam appeared in the forest. It’s a huge fire. The forest was on fire. People who lived in the village nearby ran to the forest to see what happened. It was a wrecked airplane that just fell from the sky. People used hammers to dig the airplane to see whether there are any survivors.

Suddenly, a man walked out from the airplane. He seemed fine, but the crowd was shocked.

‘Apologies for my courtesy. In accordance with civil society, I should introduce myself,’ said the man. He pulled out a badge on his chest. The badge was black and words on it were engraved with silver. One of the teenagers from the village read off the words on it

‘I am a detective from Europole (Europe Detective and Police Organisation), which I am an office equipment. Category number 98F78195, made by ability technician Dr. Wollstonecraft. The first ever humanoid computer that serves for worldwide police facilities. Code name is Adam, Adam Frankenstein. It is my pleasure to meet you. I should carry out my mission now, see you.’

Before Adam left, he asked ‘Do you know a person called Nakahara Chuuya?’

-

Code:01 A programme with 2383 lines, just an idea from a group of researchers 

Chuuya couldn't see his dream. Everytime he woke up, he felt like he was in a swamp of mud. Today, Chuuya woke up in his apartment. Just like other’s morning routine, Chuuya took a shower, cleaned himself and left his home.

Chuuya was 16 years old. Since a year he had joined the mafia, Chuuya excelled in his job with the most outstanding performance, and was well recognised in the organisation.

However with all the money and status he got, Chuuya was not satisfied. The thing that he wanted the most was to know his past. Chuuya knew nothing about it. The earliest memory he had was being kidnapped to a military facility 8 years ago.

There was already a branded black car waiting for Chuuya outside his apartment with a group of men in suits and sunglasses. ‘Please go to the regular store,’ said Chuuya.

Chuuya was in charge of supervising the jewel/gemstone transaction within the Mafia and black market, which had been an important source of income for the mafia.

He arrived at the store. Before entering it, a gun was pointed on Chuuya’s head, while there was another gun pointed onto his chest. Bang! What a big sound. Yet there was no blood, but a bunch of colourful ribbons came off.

‘Congratulations to your 1st year since joining the mafia!’, said those men.

Today was the first anniversary for Chuuya joining the mafia, and his friends held a party for him. People who joined the party all belonged to the ‘young club’ of the mafia, which were all 25 years old or younger.

The party-planner was called ‘Piano Man’. He was called Piano Man not because of his black and white outfit, but his way of killing. He liked using the strings of piano keyboards and strangled people to death. Piano Man was very tall, his fingers were long and thin, and always put a smile on his face. He was by far the man who was closest to the position of the Port Mafia executive.

The second man who came to congratulate Chuuya was called Albatross, a man with golden hair. He was a teen that loved smiling and was very talkative. Albatross was in charge of the transportation aspect of the mafia, and was complimented as very efficient and speedy in completing the missions, and was currently living in the same neighbourhood as Chuuya in a high-ended area. He previously belonged to an organisation called ‘Wheelman’.

Albatross proposed a toasting, but Chuuya was not in a good mood. “Did you have a nightmare?” Albatross joked, but Chuuya turned furious after hearing the word ‘nightmare’. Everyone was horrified. ‘No I wasn’t!’ Chuuya shouted. When Chuuya was about to leave the shop, yet another man came in. He was holding a champagne glass, and on his other hand, he was holding a medical drip stand that had a drip injected into his arm. His name was Doc.

Different from other doctors in the gangster industry, Doc graduated in a Northern American university and was awarded with a Doctorate formally. Doctors were highly demanded within the mafia because members could not simply walk into regular hospitals with injuries that were caused by gunshots. Doctors in the PM were treated nicely and respected, thanks to the boss, Mori-san, who was also a former doctor. The reason why Doc became a doctor was because he wanted to get closer to God. ‘The more lives you save, the closer you get to God’ is the motto of Doc. The Bible once wrote that God saved two million lives, so Doc’s goal was to save a similar number of people, which was why he joined the Mafia.

Chuuya still wanted to leave.

“The first year was the toughest, so we need to celebrate that you got through it,’ a gentle voice said. It was a man who had an extraordinarily beautiful appearance. The first year of joining the Mafia was the so-called ‘Deadman Curve’, so a celebration is needed,” said Lippmann, the guy with a pretty face. The work of Lippmann was probably the most unique one out of all of them. He was in charge of the public relations of the Mafia, such as negotiating deals with enterprises, or having meetings with the government. It is more difficult to kill him than killing the Boss of the Mafia because Lippmann was also a famous actor, thus every single action he made would be reported by the media. Hence it was really difficult to get him.

Another man came in, and his name was Ice Man. Unlike Chuuya’s other friends, he was quiet, and wore a simple outfit. Ice Man did not show much emotion, and was low profile. His job was simple, to kill. He did not use an ability, guns or knives to kill. Instead, he used objects that were nearby to kill. Anything, regardless if it’s a pen, wine bottle or the wire of light bulbs could become a murdering tool, hence Ice Man could kill anywhere.

The gathering continued. Chuuya was gradually having a better mood, until Ice Man asked Chuuya ‘where were you born?’ Chuuya immediately grabbed Ice Man’s shirt, and there was such a tension among the guys. Piano Man then revealed that he knew why Chuuya was mad, because Mori told him about Chuuya’s past that he was just an artificial ability experiment that was created by the military. Hence Mori asked Piano Man to invite Chuuya into the younger’s club, in order to have a surveillance on Chuuya. Piano Man pointed out the reason why Chuuya was mad today because he was actually not able to dream. Suddenly, the tension was back. Everyone had their weapons already, but Piano Man took out a present for the 1st anniversary from his coat, and gave it to Chuuya.

It was a photograph, a picture of two people, and one of them was five year old Chuuya.

The picture was taken in an old village in the Western region, Piano Man said. The area was abandoned afterwards but Doc found this picture inside the medical record of the village. Lippmann then added that he had asked a woman to check all the military-related databases, in which she found out that the military once held a recruitment experiment in the Western region. Still, Chuuya’s friends were able to find the family tree of Chuuya, his school, his report card and his birth record. However, such an investigation must not be known to Mori because Mori thought that if Chuuya’s background remained a secret, Chuuya would not betray the Mafia.

Chuuya did not understand why his friends did this for him. Lippmann said because they were companions. He then proposed why not they name the younger’s club as ‘Flags’.

The Flags then went to a billiards bar. All of a sudden, apart from the six people playing the billiards, there was the seventh person who joined the game. He had long arms and legs, and of course very tall. Black hair with brown eyes, and was standing by the table seriously.

All of a sudden, Albatross used his Kulric knife and sliced on the seventh person's head, which produced an uncomfortable noise. Yet, that person escaped from the attack. A fight then broke out because the Flags thought this seventh person was an ability user, and suspected his intention for coming to the Mafia’s facility. However, Ice Man pointed out that this person was not an ability user, but the fight continued.

During the fight, Adam grabbed the legs of the table, and something grew from his hand. It was a small-scale dinosaur, that grew from Adam’s hands as if it were a plant. The battle was intense. Someone shouted Chuuya’s name out of nowhere, and Adam noticed something.

‘Chuuya-san’, Adam greeted Chuuya politely.

‘I am here to protect you,’ Adam replied. Adam introduced himself, and explained his mission. Adam was sent here to arrest an assassin called Paul Verlaine.

When Chuuya heard the name Verlaine, his facial expression changed.

‘Why do you know this name?’ asked Chuuya

‘Chuuya-san, you cannot defeat Verlaine on your own. That’s why I am here. Verlaine was not only an assassin. He is the king of assassins. He is your brother.’ said Adam.

The misconception was relieved, and the Flags, together with Adam, played billiards happily afterwards.

-

The story continues on 27th Feb

[cleverhyuck]

helloooooo <33 can i request for 10 and 24 + jeno or jaemin ? :3 - anon

a/n : i’m assuming you want smut — sorry this is a little late too !— thank you for your request !! 💘

* smut begins on page divider !!

-

“don’t test me”

“stop being a bitch”

-

warnings : outdoor sex , degrading , quickie , marking ( hickeys ) , mentions of pregnancy , light choking , creampie , raw ( use protection ^.^ )

wc : royal!au , why is this so long

-

annual balls are a thing. men and women from all over dress up at talk about who knows what. their children mingle around, looking for friends, competitors, significant others, it’s a routine.

in the kingdom, you’ve been going to monthly balls. meeting people of all kinds. some men try to be your husband and some women try to gossip around you.

you don’t mind, of course. the attention is nice, but it’s what you get for being the daughter of the king.

your first encounter with prince!jeno was interesting to say the least. accidentally spitting your drink onto him from laughing at prince chenle’s joke. both of your eyes go wide as you ruined his white blazer with your red fruit punch, splattered all over.

“it looks like he’s been murdered !!” prince chenle points. the other princes; renjun, jaemin, and jisung laugh. prince jeno froze, this has never happened to him ever.

you rush to find napkins ( more like a maid ) and try to clean it. all five of you headed back to the maid quarters to find extra clothes. “i’m sorry” is what you say the whole entire time while cleaning and moving.

in the quarter, prince jeno sends you an eye smile. something about it comforts you, it makes you feel better about what happened.

“seriously princess, don’t worry.” he chuckles and takes off the jacket. some of it is on his button up so he takes that off too, revealing his nice six pack.

your eyes go wide (again) and you can only stare at his chest. prince renjun has to shake you to get your own head out of the gutter. you and prince jeno both blush and you turn away, afraid to make another embarrassing moment.

prince jisung walks next to you and pats your back. “don’t worry princess, at least we all got closer now! let’s drop the formalities.” you look up at him with rosy cheeks and smile.

turning around and holding out a hand you re-introduce yourself. “hi i’m y/n. nice to meet you all.”

over the months you all grew closer together. you met another boy, haechan. he wasn’t at the first party but said he lived it through renjun’s text messages.

you and jeno were especially close. people made dating rumors over you, but you two were just friends.

friends that kiss.

friends that make-out sometimes, friends that have seen each other naked, friends that have snuck out to kiss…

call it friends with benefits, call it being close, jeno preferred to call it “no labels”

even so, jeno was always protective. never letting you talk to another prince for too long, having his hand around your waist most times.

-

as another ball was announced, you decided to have some fun with jeno. a beautiful soft pink dress with a longer than normal thigh slit. the collars of the dress laid on your shoulders, revealing most of your top chest. you looked beautiful. stunning.

this would sure rile him up.

as the guests arrived you welcomed them with hugs and side kisses. once the group arrived, you went for jisung instead of jeno.

pulling him into a hug, you say “i missed you sungie, christ you’ve grown taller too!” you look at him. he smiles and rubs the back of his neck. “thanks noona, but it’s only been a few weeks since i last saw you!”

“a few weeks too long, let’s hang out sometime soon jisung. ride horses on thursday?” you suggest to him. “you bet” he replies.

“ahem.”

turning you see the boys and jeno. “are you guys jealous i didn’t talk to you yet??” you fake whine. chenle shrugs. “why don’t you ask your boyfriend?”

“he’s not my-”

“im not her-”

chenle looks at you both. “yeah, sureeee” before leaving to find other guests. jaemin pats jeno’s back while renjun pats yours.

haechan moves you and jeno closer by your shoulders and shakes his head. “good luck.” is all he says to the both of you before walking past you.

“so..” you say, not making eye contact. jeno eyes you up and down before leaning in close to your ear. “don’t test me, princess”

-

the party is going pretty well. jeno and his stares never leave you though. you dance with haechan most of the time. laughing and giggling over whatever while jeno looks like he’s about to break the champagne glass.

haechan totally understands your want to tease jeno and helps you tremendously with that. it’s not like jeno would take you away from the haechan, right? in the dance, you two start doing every extra moves. the crowd backs up a bit and watches you two.

graceful steps and spins have everyone enticed. as it comes to an end, haechan spins you and lifts one of your legs up, he holds onto your lower thigh, revealing the dangerous slit.

as the crowd applauses, you look over at jeno. i swear to god he has the most evil look on his face u cant even explain.

you smile to yourself and move off of haechan, whispering a slight thank you before heading over to where jeno was standing.

“let’s go.” is all he says before grabbing you, practically yanking you outside.

* “stop being a bitch” he says as he manhandles you onto a tree.

“i wasn’t being or acting like anything.” you say. he scoffs and yanks the shoulder straps down your elbow, revealing your strapless bra.

“jeno!” you squeal at him. you quickly ㅡ cover your breasts by crossing your arms but he grabs them and holds them behind the tree.

“stop squirming” he says as hestarts kissing over your chest. jeno leaves miscellaneous hickeys all over and the only thing you can do is throw your head back and moan.

“let’s hurry this up.”

pushing up your dress he parts your underwear and pushes two fingers in. you hiss at his urgency but soon you’re dripping down his knuckles.

moans and whimpers erode from you and jeno smiles at that. before you can cum on his fingers he takes them out and pushes them into your mouth.

“suck.”

as you do, he uses his other hand to loosen his pants. pulling out his member, he strokes it. your legs subconsciously move and he takes his fingers out of your mouth.

“you like watching me stroke myself?” jeno questions. you shyly nod. “fuck.” he whispers. “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

as he aligns with your entrance, you are preparing for the girth that is jeno’s cock. he teases at your slit before pushing in.

you immediately clench around him and moan into his ear. he slowly moves back out before sending a deep thrust into you. “harder..please” you whimper in his ear.

you wrap your arms around his neck as he is pistoning inside of you. your boobs jiggle at the harshness of his thrusts and you soon feel close.

“jeno i’m, i-i’m” you mutter out. he understands and goes harder and faster. “you like that?” he leans in your ear.

“you like being treated like a little slut?”

as your eyes go wide the feeling inside of you bursts. you cum on his cock and moan a little too loudly. the tightness inside you causes jeno to cum as well, the spurts of his cum fills your insides.

as he pulls out, jeno kisses your forehead. he helps you clean up and look like you haven’t had the best fuck of your life.

right as you two walk back inside to the party he looks at you.

“you know i love you right?” he asks.

“i love you too jeno.”

—

send me a prompt!

[quirklessidiot]

title : cigarettes and parfaits [1] pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro] Genre: romance, fluff, super duper mild angst, slice of life, josei, bad comedy, strangers to lovers au

Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right?

Warnings: alcohol, smoking, very,very mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT BECAUSE NANAMI DESERVES HAPPINESS)

Notes: after repeatedly giving you jjk angst, i have been very happy to announce that i am able to write something fluffy now. Yay! (Anyways this is based on the manga sesame salt and pudding, yall better read that. It’s just *chefs kiss*) also this may or may not be written ebcause of the amount of smoll nanami content i’m seeing around this site hmPH 

masterlist  || taglist || [next  ; updates every friday]

The sound of your alarm blared at the crack of dawn, making you immediately jerk up in an unfashionable manner, you shouldn’t drink on Sunday nights. Good lord,  why did you even do that?-

Your thoughts are cut short though when you feel something, better yet, someone, next to you. It’s dark but you could definitely tell that whoever this stranger is, had settled himself quite comfortably by your side. You blink once then twice then slowly reached out to switch your lamp open to get a good look on who was next to you.

Thankfully, you’re still in your clothes from last night.

Also, who the fuck is this?

Your brows are furrowed together as you try to remember who this person was. Blonde hair and jaw so sharp that it could probably cut the vegetables on your kitchen counter, some fine lines littered his face as he wrinkled his forehead in his sleep.

The tie on his neck is loose as you slowly peered to observe him even more and for some odd reason that made your ears turn bright red as you check out his rather lean figure (he wasn’t overly muscular, he was just right)

“Oh shit.” You mumbled, snapping out of your daze, you had to focus! This was a stranger for crying out loud, “Who the-”

Before you could even say anything more, his eyes shot open and you’re greeted by chocolate brown eyes. You try to stutter out a reply, clearly in your frazzled state the only thing you could let out was, “What the fuck?”

“Oh, you’re awake.” his voice was deep and quite raspy, and daresay, it suited his rather sharp appearance.

Was this stranger awake this whole time that you were gawking at him under the dim light? Your ears turn even a brighter shade of pink. Was it just the heater or was this room getting hotter than it should be?

Yet despite your flustered state though, he thankfully remains oblivious, “Are you feeling any better?” he asks.

Despite his bland facial expression, there was a certain warmth in his tone and that made your heart beat quicken. It wasn’t everyday that you’d wake up to find a good looking older gentleman next to you after all, “I’m good…” You shyly replied, the confidence you had moments ago while you were cursing him was gone when you heard his soft tone, “I- sorry but who are you? What happened?”

He stares at you for a moment and purses his lips, “Nanami Kento.” he introduces himself briefly. From the likes of it, he seemed like a professional, “To be honest, I don’t have much recollection from last night due to the alcohol. When I woke up a few moments ago, you wouldn’t let go and I had no choice but to lay there and wait for you to wake up.”

You paled just a bit at his explanation and turned bright red right after, how embarrassing! Not only did you just embarrass yourself in front of this older gentleman awhile ago, you did something so unlike you last night! Thank god this ojisan was a lot more calmer than you. He didn’t even look that perplexed or annoyed by your state at all.

He runs his hands through his soft blonde hair after and lets out a low groan.

“D-Does your head hurt, Nanami-san?”

“Yes.”

“I-would you-” you tried to stammer a few words out yet you're immediately cut off by his phone ringing.

Right, boundaries. You shouldn’t overstep them since you already did so much last night to disturb him despite you two being so out of it. You watch him as he answers his cell phone in a quick and suave manner, all traces of hungover gone, “Nanami speaking.” He greets as soon as he answers the call, “I understand. Please try to help them out and I apologize for the inconvenience.”

He ends the call and stands up, tightening his tie. Despite him spending the night here, he still looked orderly and it’s so unfair because right now, you knew you looked like absolute shit with the alcohol and booze in your system.

“I have to take my leave now. I apologize for intruding.” he bows down formally.

You’re pretty sure you were the one who intruded, his actions makes you immediately stand up despite the throbbing headache which was definitely a wrong move because the moment you did, you felt your legs giving out.

Great.

“I-sorry, I would bow…” You tried to stammer out an apology, ears bright red once again, just how much could you embarrass yourself in front of this gentleman?  “Sorry for the intrusion too Nanami-san.”

He leaves without saying anything much to your relief and as soon as you hear your front door close, you scream right at the pillow.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” You muffled at the pillow.

Thank God you wouldn’t be seeing him ever again!

“L/N-sensei.”

You turn to find Maki and Megumi standing there, they were members of a rather elite family in Tokyo, Most often you avoided bumping shoulders with Megumi’s father since he was, well, quite a tease and although you do admit that Toji Zen’in is a very good-looking and fine man from a very good background, you couldn’t look past the fact that you taught his kids mathematics and there was a good fifteen year age gap between you two, “Hi there.” A warm smile dances on your lips, “Is this about the earlier math problem again?”

The question was directed to Maki, Megumi wasn’t one to ask questions about his lessons since he wasn’t fond of academics.

“Actually, it isn’t. Toji-ojisan says you should come to his birthday.” Maki shrugged, “He says his 40th birthday wouldn’t be complete if you weren’t there.”

Ah, that’s why Megumi didn’t want to go alone. The young boy’s cheeks are painted pink, clearly embarrassed by his father’s antics, “Ah,” You laughed, trying to play it cool. Despite his father’s relentless teasing, he had never made you feel uncomfortable. If he hadn’t been asking you out a few times, you’d consider him a friend, “Your otosan does love to joke around a lot doesn’t he, Megumi-kun?”

“I could deck him for you if you’d like, sensei. I swear that old man needs to realize that you’re way too young and good for him.” He mumbles the last part, clearly annoyed.

“Oh have you gotten married, L/N-sensei?” Maki cuts her younger cousin off suddenly, clearly surprised, “I thought you never had a boyfriend..or girlfriend...or a lover…”

“I- excuse me?” You sweatdrop, “Married, where?”

“Am I mistaken? You have a silver band on your ring finger at your left hand.” Maki points out, “Congrats sensei! It seems like Toji-ojisan won’t be bothering you anymore!”

You were too much in a frazzled state this morning that you hadn’t even noticed the ring band on your finger. You weren’t married, heck, you haven’t dated since college but where in the hell did you get this ring?

“L/N-san?” You’re snapped back to reality by a coworker, “We have two new enrollees, would you mind handling them since they’ll be added to your section?”

“Right,” You smile, “That’s my cue to leave. I’ll get going now. Enjoy your snack time.”

Before Maki could say anything more about the silverband on your ring finger, you scurried away to the faculty room, shaking that weird feeling off since you had to get back to work. 

Job first, ring later.

As you went in, two abnormally bleached pink hair stood out and you could immediately tell that they were going to be the new kids that you’d be teaching. You walk closer, realizing how much they looked alike despite the markings on the other.

“Hi, Good morning.” You greeted kindly, “You must be the new kids.”

“Ah,” the one with tattoo markings on his face gloated, “Aren’t you too bright?”

“Sukuna, shut up.” his twin frowned, “Sorry Sensei, My brother isn’t feeling so well since our ojisan had told us off before going to school.”

It seemed like the other twin would be a handful, nevertheless, you were still going to be his teacher so you let out a small smile, “It’s fine.” You waved off, “We all have bad days, don’t we? I’m L/N-sensei and I’ll be your homeroom and math teacher.”

“Hai.” The one without tattoos replied, enthusiasm leaking on his tone, “Itadori Yuuji and this is Itadori Sukuna, please take care of us.”

You watch Yuuji force his twin to bow down to show a sign of respect. For a high schooler, Sukuna and Yuuji’s parents seemed so lax, bleached hair and tattoos? That was definitely a first one on your list. You take a look at the data they passed and a small frown settles on your lips, it seemed like you had to take back the words you said earlier.

Both their parents had died a few years ago.

You cleared your throat and tried to put on the smile and enthusiasm from earlier, “I’ll be sure to introduce you to the class right after break and since it’s your first day I’ll be lax but please try not to go in late again.”

Yuuji’s grin remains the same as he agrees enthusiastically while Sukuna still looks mildly uninterested, something that you realize oh-so quickly that you’ll have to get used to.

After introducing the twins to the class, you settle on your desk at the faculty and peer at the ring on your finger. The only conclusion you could come up with was that this was from the older gentleman from the night before but why would he even give you a ring?

It didn’t even look cheap and it was surprisingly just your size, meaning it was definitely for you.

You inwardly let out a groan as you placed your hand on top of your eyes. God, you definitely needed to lay off the alcohol next time. You feel the phone in your pocket start to ring, peerlessly glancing at the unknown number. People really need to lay off the scam calls.

“Hello, I’m sorry I’m not-”

“Yo-ho, is this Y/N-chan?” The voice on the other line is so unfamiliar yet familiar at the same time.

“Uh, who is this?”

“Is your husband with you?” the voice sounds so playful and teasing that you almost ignore what he had just said earlier.

“E-Excuse me?” You sputtered out, cheeks turning red, “I don’t have a husband.”

“Huh…” the playful voice switches to disappointment, “Don’t tell me you forgot what happened with us last night, L/N-chan.”

You feel something bubbling on your stomach, oh no, this definitely didn’t sound good!

“I- wait, what? who are you? What do you mean? what happened?” countless of questions started to pile up in your head and out of your mouth, panic immediately engulfing you because for a prank call this guy sounded way too legit, confirming your irresponsibility the night before. 

“Silly Y/N-chan. How could you ever forget me? I’m such an important person! I’m Gojo Satoru, your witness from your wedding!” 

taglist (if crossed out, i cant tag u im so sorry ack ;-;)

 ; @coldbookworm  ; @frankenstein852  ;  @neavil​  ; @shephard17895​   @kristineyoshaii​ ; @airybnb​​

@Kurok1717 ;  @hcn421 ;  @shinhiromi ;  @airybnb ;    ; ​

[yoontopia]

coffee & cream | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x (f) reader

genre: friends with benefits au (like the movie mila kunis is sexy y’all), one (1) smut scene [in the form of oral (m) and (f) receiving, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids cmon), spanking, grinding], fluff, angst (but its a happy ending bc its me)

rating: M

word count: 14.3k

summary: Jungkook isn’t usually a risk taker-- in fact, he’s the safest guy in the room. But you’re about to change that

Jungkook adjusts his tie and looks out of the little airplane window. The seatbelt sign is blinking back on – it’s been a relatively exhausting flight from LA to New York and his legs are numb. He eyes the tall buildings of the metropolis below, squinting when he can see the Empire State building in his view. It isn’t his first time in Manhattan, having visited once with his family when he was a teenager. The sheer size of the place terrifies him a little though.

It’s not like Los Angeles isn’t a big city. LA is huge, in fact, and just as saturated as any big city is. But New York is a different topic altogether. Jungkook finds LA intimidating, he’s not sure where to even start with Manhattan.

He walks out into JFK, hoisting his duffle bag on one shoulder. It’s noisy, he notes, as soon as he’s walked out and into baggage claim. He only makes a small pitstop in the men’s bathroom to make sure his hair doesn’t look like birds have nested in it and emerges out, looking around. Someone’s supposed to be picking him up, and they should be here, amongst the throng of people holding up placards with names on them. He’s just pulling out his phone to double check if any emails about his pickup were sent while he was in flight, when a commotion by baggage claim catches his eye. Raising his eyebrows, he takes in the sight before him.

There’s you, hair coming out of your bun, clutching your stilettos close to your chest as you walk barefoot on the baggage belt wearing a crinkled skirt-suit. You’re looking for something, tip toeing around the suitcases, unaware of the stares you’re getting. You’re walking towards him, against the direction of the belt and he stares around him and sees a piece of paper with the name JEON JUNGKOOK written on it in bright red lipstick. He leans over to pick it up, and realizes you’ve made a grab for it as well.

“That’s me,” he says. You blink at him in confusion, before your face clears.

“Jeon Jungkook?” you affirm, and he nods, pointing to the piece of paper and then at himself.  “Oh, thank god.” You introduce yourself and hold out your hand, which Jungkook promptly shakes. You’re still on the baggage belt, so he has to walk alongside you.

“You’re picking me up from the airport?”

“Yes!” your voice is hushed and out of breath. You smooth down your flyaway hair hastily.

“Do you… always pick people up like this?” He gestures at the baggage belt and you suddenly laugh, a high tinkling sound. Jumping off the belt, you stand in front of him.

“Uh yeah, you know, I like to keep things interesting,” you say, nodding your head like you mean business. “Welcome to New York, by the way. I feel like I should’ve brought a boombox with that Taylor Swift song blasting on it.”

“I mean there’s always next time, right?” Jungkook cracks a smile, shoving his hands in the pockets of his suit. “You know… you’re not exactly what comes to mind when one thinks ‘headhunter’.”

“Yeah, I prefer the term executive recruiter,” you say offhandedly. “‘Headhunter’ always makes me sound a little creepy.”

“Well,” Jungkook says, as he watches you put your heels back on. They add a significant amount to your height, and you stand in front of him expectantly. “You did stalk me for the past six months. That’s kind of creepy.” You laugh again at that and reach for his bag, which he pulls out of the way.

“Let me carry your bag, it’s my job!”

“You don’t look like you do this often,” he points out.

“Okay so maybe you’re my first recruit, sue me.” You’re pouting faintly, as the two of you walk out of the airport. The New York heat hits Jungkook all at once, and he sniffs the air curiously. “Nasty isn’t it? I love it” you grin.

“What is that?” he asks, wrinkling his nose.

“Sewage, rats, and the sweet smell of capitalism.” You’re waving down a yellow taxi. “Need me to play you that Taylor Swift song yet?” You hold the door open for him and he gets in and you pop in from the other side. Once you’re done giving the driver your destination, you sit back. “So.” You start. Jungkook raises your eyebrows at you. “You’re finally here!”

“Only took six months worth of emails to convince me,” he says, looking out the window as the cab crosses a bridge. Manhattan looms in front of him.

“It’s a huge opportunity,” you say, and he has to give you points for being earnest. “Art director for Vogue? This is the big leagues!” You’re turned in your seat to look over at him. “I mean, no offence to your little internet blog.”

“Which got seven million hits last month,” He points out, only a little offended. You roll your eyes.

“Have you been on TikTok lately, little kids are pulling those numbers.” You say, and he can’t deny it. “But I’ve seen your work firsthand, and you’re amazing at what you do. That’s why you’re here.” Jungkook sighs. The cab is in Manhattan now and he stares out the window once again.

“There must be a reason you’re here,” you continue quietly. “Even I was surprised you finally agreed to give the interview a shot.” Jungkook doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t know you enough to tell you the real reason he up and left his life in LA.

“A free trip to New York? C’mon I’d be an idiot to turn that down!” He says instead, making his tone as light as possible. “But New York’s so crowded. Look around! I’m from California okay? I prefer the coast.” You’re looking at him, and he has a feeling you can see right through him. Considering New York also has the ocean, even Jungkook knows that is the poorest excuse.

“C’mon, what’s really holding you back?” Your tone is serious. Jungkook shrugs.

“I don’t know. This is a ridiculously huge move. I’ve lived in one place my whole life. And I don’t want it to feel like I made the wrong move and got myself into something I can’t handle.”

“I’m telling you, your work is incredible,” you say again, and Jungkook feels the back of his neck go warm. He’s heard flattery before, but you’re a stranger and you sound so blatantly honest. “You’re fully capable of handling this. Look, we’ll get you some coffee before your interview, you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t drink coffee,” Jungkook mumbles, lowering himself in his seat. You stare.

“What?! You heathen.” You’ve dropped all formalities with him, and Jungkook doesn’t know if that’s just New York, or you.

“It’s really hot,” he says as the cab pulls up to the destination.

“Doesn’t it get hot in LA?” you ask, paying the driver. Jungkook stands on the sidewalk and looks around. He can see the river from where he stands and smell the ocean. That thought comforts him a little.

“Yeah it gets hot in LA, but here it’s the heat, the pollution the humidity. In LA, thirty degrees feels like thirty degrees. Here thirty degrees feels like—the ninth circle of hell—”

“This conversation about the weather is really fascinating, believe me,” you cut him off. “But lucky for me, we’re here.” You point at the large building the two of you are standing outside of. “So, good luck.” Jungkook looks up at the skyscraper.

“Whatever happens, happens,” He says, shaking his head. “I told you, I don’t really want it.”

“I think you do,” you say, crossing your arms slightly. “Whatever it was that convinced you to finally fly out here is also convincing you to go for it. But regardless, just do me a favour? Act like you do want it so that I look good.”

“I guess I can do that,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

“Okay”, you say, flashing him another one of your blinding smiles. “Go get ‘em.”

It’s past three in the afternoon by the time Jungkook walks out of the building’s shiny revolving doors.

“Hey!” you’re running towards him, still wearing the same clothes from this morning. Your hair is down though, Jungkook notes.

“You’re still here,” he’s surprised, and partly impressed by your ethic.

“Yeah, well,” you say, sounding sheepish. “It’s my job. How did it go?” Jungkook allows himself a small grin.

“They bought it,” he says, giving you two thumbs up. “You’re safe for a little while longer.” You clap your hands excitedly.

“Well thank you,” you offer him a little curtsy that has him laughing. “I owe you one Jeon.” At that moment, his phone buzzes in his back pocket and he reaches for it, while you cross your arms and wait.

“Uh,” he says, reading the notification. “It’s from you.”

“It’s your offer,” you say, tilting your chin at his phone.

“Wait,” he says, confusion evident on his face. “I got the job?” You’re smiling now.

“They called about five minutes ago,” Your smile widens. “Congratulations! The offer expires at midnight.” Jungkook holds up his phone.

“Why didn’t you just tell me instead of texting me?”

“‘Cause it’s more dramatic,” you state, as if it’s obvious. Jungkook scoffs and looks away, towards the river, running a hand through his hair. You roll your eyes.

“Jungkook, you’re not gonna screw this up,” you say.

“It’s a huge move,” Jungkook argues. “Would you uproot your entire life for a job? Be honest.”

“Well, no. For a job, probably not. But for New York? Yeah, I would. Which is why I’m not gonna sell you on the job, I’m gonna sell you on New York.”

“It’s New York!” Jungkook says, exasperation leaking into his voice. “I’ve seen Iron Man, I know what it’s like!”

“Not the bullshit tourist version,” you say, looking at him, that slight pout back in your face.

“Puppy dog eyes? Really?” He questions, defeat evident in his voice. You laugh.

“C’mon,” You say grinning. “Let me buy you a drink.” You’re walking away from him and crossing the street when you realize Jungkook isn’t following. “What’re you waiting for?”

“For the light to turn so I can cross the street,” he says pointing at the red hand glaring across from him. You scoff and march back up to him.

“You Cali folk are so cute,” Linking your arm with his, you lead him onto the street. “C’mon it’s fine.”

“No, it’s really not,” Jungkook argues, watching a cab nearly run the two of you over, but you expertly dodge it. “See? I’m gonna die.” You lead him down Park Row, your arm warm against his and Jungkook finds himself at the Brooklyn bridge.

“What’re we—” he starts, but you ignore him, dragging him to the foot of Brooklyn Bridge. Cars are rushing past them, commuters going home after a day of work. Pedestrians are walking along the sidewalk, admiring East River below. You walk up to a small woman sitting on the side of the sidewalk in front of some mangoes.

“Maria!” you exclaim, followed by sentences in a language Jungkook barely recognizes as Spanish. The woman looks up in recognition and smiles at you. You fish through your wallet for a few dollar bills before handing them to her. You’re still speaking in Spanish as you point at Jungkook and then at yourself. The woman nods and begins to bag up the sliced mangoes.

“You’re feeding me mangoes off the street?” Jungkook whispers.

“What? I thought you LA folk were all about that organic, local bullshit,” you retort. You graciously take the bagged slices from the woman and wave at her before pulling Jungkook back in the direction of Manhattan.

“Do I at least get to eat them?” He asks.

“Not yet!” you reply cheerfully. You usher him into the Fulton Street Subway station, even let him use your Metro Card. Jungkook is too winded to ask any more questions as you practically push him onto a train. Two stops later, you’re getting off, Jungkook trying to keep up with you.

“Battery Park!” You wiggle your fingers. Jungkook stares around. “This is where you come if you wanna take those super expensive tours to the Statue of Liberty by the way,”

“Good to know,” he laughs. You walk him in the direction of the water but away from the ferries. It’s a promenade, he realizes. The two of you walk until you arrive at what he recognizes as a World War II memorial. You walk towards it and sit down on the slabs of concrete next to the steps, your feet dangling off as you stare at the ocean in front of you. You pat the space next to you and Jungkook throws the thoughts of getting his one good suit dirty and joins you. You promptly hand him the bag of mangoes.

“I thought we were going for a drink,” he jokes. You laugh as you pop open the bag. He stares down at his own. “What did that woman do to my mangoes?”

“She puts cayenne salt on them,” you say, popping a cube into your mouth. Jungkook raises his eyebrows and experimentally puts a piece in his mouth.

“Oh my god,” he says, voice coming out in a moan. “This is amazing”

“Right?” you laugh. “Maria is a culinary genius.” Your legs swing as the air gets cooler. The two of you watch the ferries in silence, but its comfortable. Jungkook breathes in the salty air.

“Do you do this often?”

“When I need to clear my head, I come here to watch the sunsets,” you say. “The crowd dies down by then because the only tourists that come here are here for Liberty and the ferries stop around this time.” There is another minute of silence and then – “You know, Jungkook, I like you.”

“Thanks.”

“That’s why, I’ll give you your choice of closes.”

“What?” Jungkook is confused again, a state he finds he’s often in wherever you seem to be involved.

“How I close you on this job.”

“Oh.”

“So, we got the flattery close,” you start, and put on a sweet, simpering voice. “Jungkook, you are so good at what you do!” Jungkook is laughing, but you carry on. “The take-it-or-leave-it close – Man I don’t care if you take it, I get paid regardless!” Jungkook is trying to interrupt but you reel right on. “The sympathy close,” suddenly your voice is hitched, and you pretend to bat away unshed tears. “You see, my liver is failing—”

“Why do women think the only way to get a man to do what they want is to manipulate him?” Jungkook finally manages to interrupt your rant and his voice comes out harsher than he expected it to. You blink at him, a look of understanding flashing across your face and Jungkook clamps his mouth shut.

“History,” you reply, choosing not to pry, for which Jungkook is grateful. “Personal experiences. Romantic comedies.” You look out towards the ocean again. A sailing boat is crossing your line of sight as you speak. “C’mon, you’re here for a reason, whether you want to admit it or not.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says, biting into another slice of mango. “To explore an option. Who wouldn’t want to know their options?”

“Someone who’s in a perfect situation,” you counter.

“Are you in a perfect situation?” He throws your words right back at you.

“Job? Oh, absolutely.” You say. “Everything else? Well, that’s none of your business,” Jungkook chuckles, and you smile. The wind ruffles your hair as you lean back. You watch as he finishes the remainder of his mango. “Ready to go?”

“But we just got here!”

“Chop Chop my friend, New York waits for no one.” Jungkook groans, deciding that you’re just impossible to keep up with.

“Central Park? Really? I thought we weren’t doing the bullshit tourist stuff.” Jungkook is holding a cup of boba in his hand – rose black tea with lychee jelly. The two of you had picked some up on the way to the park. When you’d said drinks, this wasn’t what he’d had in mind, but he wasn’t complaining. You take a giant sip of your own milk tea with pearls.

“You do realize Central Park is huge, right? There are corners of this place tourists tend to not venture into.”

The two of you are near the upper end of the park. The city is more residential here, almost into South Harlem. You tell him it’s the North Meadow. You find small curving paths in the park and the two of you walk around. Jungkook has to admit, it doesn’t feel like he’s currently in the world’s noisiest city.

“Here’s the countryside and peace you were craving for,” you say cheekily, and he laughs. But the air smells cool and fresh, the smell of exhaust and the sound of cars only a faraway tune.

“Okay fine, this wasn’t on TV,” he admits, and you grin. The two of you manage to find a spot in a clearing on a slight hill next to a huge oak tree and make yourselves comfortable on the grass. You pop open the slices of cake you’d picked up at the boba place and dig a fork in them, motioning Jungkook to do the same.

“So, what’s your dad think about all this?” you ask casually and Jungkook stares at you in disbelief. “What? He must have an opinion! He’s famous – he was the brand marketing director for GQ for 23 years.” Jungkook is surprised, to say the least.

“Wow, somebody did their homework.”

“Oh yeah,” you agree. “I have this thing at work. It’s called, uh, Google.” You ignore Jungkook’s scoff. “C’mon, what did he say about the job?”

“Actually, I haven’t asked him.” Jungkook confesses. You don’t need to know that he hasn’t seen or spoken to his father for almost a decade now.

“Well, then, you must know what he’d say,” You counter, waiting patiently for Jungkook to answer.

“He’d tell me to go with my gut,” Jungkook says at last. “And that he’d be proud of me no matter what I did.” If you can sense the shift in his tone, you don’t call him out on it. He’s realizing that you’re more perceptive of your surroundings than he originally gave you credit for.

“Well, he sounds like a really great man.” Your voice is soft and Jungkook doesn’t need to look at you to hear the smile in your voice.

“Yeah, he is.” Jungkook says softly. He doesn’t know if its because you sense the tension, but you stuff the remainder of the cake in your mouth.

“Hey, do you wanna see something really cool?”

“I always want to see something really cool,” Jungkook says easily. He watches you as you lie down on the grass.

“C’mon!” you tell him, and at this point Jungkook knows better than to argue. His suit is ruined anyway. The two of you lie down side-by-side to look up at the sky.

“One of the only places in the city you can actually see a clear night sky,” you point out. “And you know the best part? Very poor cell reception.”

“You bring all your recruits here?”

“I told you, Jeon, you’re my first.”

“Wow.” Jungkook says. “Thanks.”

“But if you tell anyone about this, I will rip your ears off and staple them to your neck.” You continue, in the same, airy tone.

“I believe you,” Jungkook says in a small voice. You sit up next to him. Your hair is frazzled from lying down and your black pencil skirt has grass all over the behind, but you don’t seem to notice or care.

“Oh, it’s time,” you say, checking your watch.

“Time for what?” Jungkook asks, but he hears it as soon as the question leaves his mouth. Soft music reaches his ears from faraway.

“Those tourist spots always have live musicians in the evening.” You say, hugging your knees and resting your chin on them. “But I don’t like the crowds, so I come up here to listen. Nobody for miles – just you and the music.” Jungkook watches you, as your eyes shine, and you stare into the distance.

“Now this is pretty damn cool,” he says. You’re swaying to the music without realizing it and Jungkook watches you tap your foot along to the beat.

“It’s nice to feel like you’re a part of something, right?” you say. “New York can get a little lonely sometimes.”

“And you’re trying to sell me on it.” Jungkook jokes. You laugh, that high tinkling sound Jungkook has come to associate with you after today.

“Every place can be a bit lonely sometimes,” you correct yourself softly. Jungkook thinks the two of you might be more similar than he’d originally thought. He makes a split-second decision.

“I’m in.” he says.

“What?”

“You sold me.”

“Really?” Your eyes are still shining, but you’re looking at him now.

“I’ll take the job,” he laughs. You squeal, still swaying slightly to the music.

“Oh my god!” you grin. “You are so gonna crush it,” And in that moment, surrounded by nothing but the smell of strawberry cake, faraway guitars, and your windswept hair covered in grass, Jungkook really believes you might be right.

Jungkook finally feels like he’s finished moving into his new apartment. Despite being a twenty-something, he never realized that he didn’t actually own that much stuff, and moving states had taken less than a month. Jungkook had other, more pressing matters to worry about – like quitting his previous job, training his replacement, signing a new lease, and bidding farewell to his rather scary old landlady in LA. Jungkook couldn’t say he was very sorry to leave her.

His apartment in Upper West Side Manhattan is miles better than the cramped place he had called home for the past five years. Vogue really had gone all out fixing him up with a place. Jungkook’s favorite feature are the giant floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city. He finds he can get used to this.

He was here now, on the first day at his new job, trying not to sweat through his cream dress shirt. His new team is unfamiliar to him and Jungkook isn’t an extrovert by nature, but he ignores his sweaty palms and tries to play nice.

“So, all I ask is that you give me a little bit of time to gain your trust,” he says, reciting the little speech he’d practiced on the flight a month ago. “I know that I’m new at this, but what I lack in experience, I make up for in cliches.” He gets a few scattered laughs out of that lame gag and sighs internally. “My door’s always open,” he adds. “Literally.” He gestures wildly to his office wall that’s made entirely out of glass, putting him on view to the rest of his team sitting in cubicles outside. “Thanks guys.”

There’s a scattered applause, a few shaken hands, and Jungkook smiles shyly. The crowd dissipates, leaving behind a man with curling blonde hair making his way toward him.

“Park Jimin, I work in marketing.” He introduces. Jungkook shakes his hand. He’s about to ask Park Jimin about his career when he sees you, wearing a navy dress and holding a stack of papers. Your hair is up again, this time in a no-nonsense ponytail.

“Oh, hey Jimin,” you say cheerfully and Jimin grins, exclaiming your name and giving you a hi-five. “Whatcha doing?”

“Sizing up the new guy,” Jimin stares at Jungkook from the corner of his eye. “You did good here. I could just eat him up.” Jungkook’s eyebrows disappear into the fringe of hair that falls over his forehead as he sees you trying to control your laughter. You pat Jimin on the butt with a fondness that isn’t missed by Jungkook.

“Go back to work Chim,” you say and Jimin shrugs and bounds off towards his office. Jungkook levels you with a look, eyebrows still raised, and you giggle. “You get used to him.”

“Anyway,” Jungkook says, picking up his iPad from his desk. “I have something to show you.”

“Show me?” You’re curious now as you walk into his office fully, still clutching your papers. He uses his tablet to switch the screen on the TV above his desk. It’s a small acoustic band, playing in Central Park.

“I tracked down the band that plays music in the North end of the park – the one we listened to that day that I decided to take this job,” Jungkook explains. “I’m thinking of using them somehow for my first project. I got in touch with the lead singer – we’re thinking of using them for guerilla advertising.”

“Taking something so pure and commercializing it?” You ask. “Knew I’d found the right guy.” Jungkook chuckles and watches you put down the stack of papers on his desk. “Anyway, here’s your contract. Sign it, and I will be out of here.” Jungkook fingers the front page hesitantly.

“A whole year,” he says wonderingly. “Wow.”

“Why do I feel like this is the first real commitment you’ve ever made?” Your hands are on your waist as you level him with a judgemental look on your face.

“Its not,” Jungkook argues, mildly offended. “I worked my last full-time job for two years. And fuck – I do regret that one.” He holds up two fingers to drive the point home.

“Do me a favour,” you sigh. “Don’t quit or get fired before this year’s up, otherwise I don’t get my bonus.”

“Wait, I can leave whenever I want? Then what’s the point of the contract?”

“Just sign the damn thing!” You watch as he groans and scribbles his signature at the bottom. “Nice doing business with you Jeon Jungkook,” You shake his hand vigorously. Jungkook watches you collect all the papers.

“Hey, I was thinking of maybe getting some lunch. Do you know a place?” He asks, checking his phone for the time. You stare at him.

“Are you… asking me out?” Jungkook blinks. What?

“Whoa, no,” he amends. “I’m just asking you to show me a restaurant.”

“I mean, I’m the only friend you have in New York,” you ramble on. “You don’t wanna complicate that.”

“I know,” Jungkook starts. “I’m not asking you out.” You ignore him, Of course you do.

“I mean, sure, we’d have fun, roll around, get into some erotic humiliation fantasy—” You’re wringing your hands. Jungkook thinks if he wasn’t sweating while giving his speech before, he’s definitely sweating now.

“I—Erotic?”

“—But it’ll all blow up in our faces, end very badly, and we’d never speak to each other—”

“Can you slow down for a second—”

“It’s just not a good idea Jungkook—”

“I’m not fucking asking you out, I swear to god!” Jungkook almost shouts, and you shut up. He watches your eyes go wide, and you bite your lip as if to hold back a sob. He winces inwardly.

“Okay,” you say, your voice unusually small. “You don’t like me like that, I get it. You don’t have to be so mean about it,” Your voice is trembling now, and you look down at your feet. Jungkook sputters, taking a step towards you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t--,” but he realizes that your voice wasn’t trembling from hurt, it was just you trying to keep your laughter in. You look up at him now, mirth swimming in your eyes and he knows he’s been had.

“God, you’re such a girl,” you grin. “Come on sister, it’s my treat.” Jungkook watches you turn on your heel and march out and wonders if there will ever come a day when he’ll have you all figured out.

You bring him to a brunch place at the corner of the block. It’s got a long French name Jungkook struggles to pronounce but he orders a large smoked salmon avocado toast while the two of you sit at a small table by the window.

“So, was it an easy move?” you ask, chopping your broccoli into tiny pieces before eating it.

“It was tough leaving my mom,” Jungkook offers. “My brother gave me some shit. But, uh, the timing was right,” He nods, as if satisfied with that answer. You’re watching him, a small smile on your face.

“An ex?” you ask. Jungkook winces, remembering that you’re far more astute than you let on. “I kinda got the vibe.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook answers, mouth full of salmon. “She’s great! Wants us to stay friends!” You make a gagging sound. “She’s also convinced she can cure me of my emotional unavailability.”

“You’re emotionally unavailable?” You ask laughing, and Jungkook nods vigorously. “Oh my God, I’m emotionally damaged. My ex was so kind to point that out when he cheated on me. I haven’t seen you at the meetings.”

“I’m done with the relationship thing,” He sighs, giving you his leftover broccoli, which you accept graciously.

“Girl, you are preaching to the congregation,” you cheer, raising your hands in agreement.

“Choir.”

“What?”

“‘Preaching to the choir’. You’re supposed to preach to the congregation. That’s the expression.” Jungkook takes a long swig of his hot chocolate.

“Did you understand what I was saying? Then don’t be a dick about it,” you smart and Jungkook laughs. He finds he does that a lot in your presence. “Anyway, I’m having some friends over tomorrow. Why don’t you come? You can meet some new people too.”

“I’m gonna have to check my schedule,” Jungkook says solemnly, pulling out a wad of cash to pay for his meal. “I’m really busy. I work at Vogue now,” you’re giggling. “It’s not just some little blog on the internet.” Your laughter drowns out everything else and Jungkook finds he likes being the one making you laugh.

Jungkook triple-checks the address you’ve texted him before knocking on the door labelled 2A. He hopes he’s picked up a decent enough wine as a housewarming gift. He’d even made sure to get the best alcohol content-to-cost ratio from the grocery store down the street from your place! He hasn’t even entered your apartment and he’s already sweating through his cardigan.

The door opens and it’s you, and this is the first time Jungkook sees you out of your usual business attire. Your hair is down, and you’re sporting skinny jeans and a tank top.

“Hey!” you say breathlessly. “You made it! C’mon!” He hands you the wine, which you graciously accept. You drag him into your living room and address the rather large gathering.

“Hey—HEY everybody! This here is Jungkook, he’s from LA!” There’s absolute crickets at your proclamation, and you roll your eyes. “He’s the reason I can afford all this beer.” You state plainly. At that, there’s a universal cheer that goes around the room.

Jungkook is generally wary of large crowds. Multiple strangers staring at him always makes him uncomfortable, but for some reason he finds himself blending in with your friends. Granted, he spends most of the evening with you playing wii bowling, jenga, and drunk card games with you and Jimin and two other friends – Taehyung and Namjoon.

The days turn to months just like this and Jungkook finds that life in New York is almost refreshing. It turns out he and Jimin have a lot in common, and that Jimin flirts incessantly with literally everyone he meets, not just him. After your party on that fateful day, he’s hit it off with Taehyung and Namjoon too. Taehyung’s a freelance artist, and Namjoon works in the music industry. He hangs out with you often too and finds that the two of you have easily become good friends. You don’t actually work for Vogue, working for a registered recruitment agency instead, so he doesn’t see you that often. He decides though, that this is a good thing. You’re definitely the one person he knows best in this city and he doesn’t want that becoming overcomplicated with having to see you as a colleague instead of a friend.

It is on a Friday night Jungkook finds himself dissolving in your extremely comfortable couch, after one too many beers, watching what he thinks is the worst romance film in existence. You’re totally enraptured though, a firm grip on your own drink.

“I swear all these movies have terrible music,” Jungkook mutters as the soundtrack crescendos and the female lead runs into the male lead’s arms in slow motion, fake tears staining her face.

“It’s so you know how to feel every single second,” you answer. Your voice is croaky from unshed tears as the female lead jumps into the male lead’s arms and he spins her round and round. Despite your newly found distaste for relationships, Jungkook has learned that you’re secretly a sucker for romance. He watches you as you mouth along to the dialogue.

“God, I wish my life were a movie sometimes,” you murmur, as the ending credits roll. “I’d always look good, and never have to go to the bathroom.” You turn to him abruptly. “And then, when I’m at my lowest point, some guy would chase me down the street, pour his heart out, and we’d kiss. Happily ever after.”

Jungkook groans, lowering himself further in your couch, chin now resting on his chest. You ignore him.

“Why don’t they ever make a movie about what happens after the big confession?”

“They do,” Jungkook replies instantly, taking a swig of his beer. “It’s called porn.” You slap his chest, sitting back comfortably next to him.

“God, I miss sex,” you say, your words slightly slurring together. The alcohol in your system has erased your filters, not that you had many in the first place. “Right? I mean, sometimes, you just need it.”

“There can never be just sex,” Jungkook mutters. “There’s always complications involved.”

“Yeah but why? What’s wrong with uncomplicated sex?”

“It’s womens’ fault,” Jungkook says and you sit up, affronted.

“Excuse me?”

“‘Hold me, let’s spend the rest of our lives together’” Jungkook mocks, making you scoff.

“As if men are any better. You’re all eyeing our pussies right from that first date.”

“I wish it wasn’t like that, y’know,” he continues. “It’s a physical act – a sport – if you will – like…. Bowling. Two people should be able to have sex like they’re going bowling.”

“For some weird ass reason, that made sense to me,” you say lazily. Jungkook laughs.

“Right, it’s just a sport. Maybe you shake hands at the end, and then get on with your life.” You nod. A comfortable silence follows. You pat him on his chest, small hands warm.

“More beer?” You’re downing yours. Jungkook nods sleepily and watches as you bend over to pick up the empty bottles and empty bags of chips from your floor and traipse over to your small kitchenette. You’re dressed in a simple tank and booty shorts and Jungkook can’t deny that, in your dimly lit apartment, your legs look good. He calls your name, and you look over at him.

“Let’s go bowling,” he says, tapping his foot. You blink at him in confusion. “Let’s have sex like we’re going bowling.” He repeats. You have the audacity to laugh out loud.

“You’re insane,” you tell him, walking back to the living room with more beer and a bowl of popcorn. Jungkook scowls and pulls himself up to sit up on your couch.

“Don’t laugh at me! This could be great. This could take all the weirdness out of it. We both want the same things.”

“We’ve been over this,” you say, tossing some popcorn in your mouth. “I don’t like you like that.”

“I don’t like you like that either,” he points out evenly. “That’s why this is perfect.” You chuckle.

“I don’t even know if I find you attractive!” you respond.

“That’s cute,” Jungkook says, standing up and bringing himself to his full height. You roll your eyes.

“Well, I do have a thing for jerks,” you mutter, which has Jungkook scoffing. “Do you even find me attractive?”

“That’s cute.” He repeats. You wave your hands and stand up in front of him.

“No, no, no,” you say. “Before you got to know my awesome personality – strictly physical – first impression of me?”

“This is just two people talking right? Sharing notes?” Jungkook affirms and you nod. “I liked your eyes – you have nice eyes.” He sighs. You’re looking at him, arms crossed.

“I liked your lips,” you offer. “Thought you might be a good kisser.”

“I am,” Jungkook admits solemnly, and you snort. “Your breasts,” he adds, tilting his chin towards your chest. You look down at it.

“What about them?”

“They intrigue me.”

“Aw, really?” you seem incredibly flattered. You give your breasts a congratulatory pat. “That’s a first – no ones ever called by boobs intriguing before. I liked your hands by the way. I’ve always got a thing for tattoos.” He watches you eye the ink on the back of his right hand, your gaze traveling up his arm where the tattoos disappear into the sleeves of his shirt.

“Mouth.” Jungkook responds quickly.

“Thighs.” You counter.

“Voice.”

“Butt.”

“Eyes.”

“You said that already,” you’re smiling now.

“I meant it,” Jungkook responds honestly. You’re looking at him now, eyes narrowed.

“You swear you don’t want anything from me other than sex?” You ask.

“You swear you don’t want anything from me other than sex?” he counters. “I know how you girls get.”

“Don’t be a pig.”

“A pig who’s got a cute butt.” He wiggles his eyebrows. You roll your eyes.

“No relationship,” you state. Jungkook nods. “No emotions. Just sex.”

“Whatever happens,” he adds. “We stay friends.” You nod back at him. The two of you stand there, staring at each other.

“Swear?” you ask.

“Swear,” he states evenly. “So…. I guess we should just start?” You laugh nervously.

“Okay then, let’s go to my bedroom.”

“Wait – what’s wrong with the couch?” Jungkok gestures wildly at your sofa, which he has to admit, is stupid comfortable. “It’s less emotional.”

“The bedroom has better light,” you point out. “And since we’re just friends, I don’t have to be insecure about my body.” Jungkook blinks at you, doe eyes wide.

“Aw, cmon,” he says. “You’re beautiful. You have nothing to be insecure about!” You fix him with a glare.

“That’s way too emotionally supportive. You need to lock that down.” You jab his chest with a pointed finger.

“Uh… your ass is way too bony?” he tries, watching your behind as you saunter towards your bedroom.

“Much better!” comes your reply, and he grins. Following you into your room, he watches with slight amazement as you tug off your top. “My nipples are sensitive,” you tell him conversationally. “I don’t really care for dirty talk, and had I known this was gonna happen, I’d have shaved my legs this morning.” You stand before him topless and he shrugs.

“I enjoy dirty talk, I sneeze sometimes when I come, and the socks stay on during sex. It’s a weird feet thing, nothing you need to be worried about.” He’s pulled off his shirt and tossed it on top of yours.

“Wait, feet gross me out too, look at that,” You grin. “Meant to be.” You tug your booty shorts off and stand in front of him wearing nothing but a bra and underwear. He whistles and you roll your eyes.

“Can you please be a little less fuckboy about this?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Girl, look what we about to do right now, and tell me this isn’t peak fuckboy behaviour,” he berates. You can’t argue.

“Fine, whatever, be a fratboy, but will you just start my tits are freezing—” But Jungkook doesn’t let you finish your sentence for he takes two strides towards you, cupping your face with his hands and smashing his lips down on yours. You make a muffled sound of surprise, but he ignores you, tilting his face to deepen the kiss. It takes you only a split second to reciprocate, and your hands travel up his sides to rest on his shoulders as you open up and let him explore your mouth.

Jungkook pushes you backwards without breaking the kiss until you’re falling on your bed. You scoot back until your back hits the headboard and you watch him as he stares at you, eyes dark and hair tousled. Without wasting any more time, Jungkook crawls over on all fours towards you. Giving you a chaste kiss on the lips, his tattooed hand travels down your neck, grazes over your shoulder, the underside of your breast, stomach and finally arriving to rest on your thigh. You watch him expectantly, bottom lip caught between your teeth, and he refuses to break eye contact with you s he tightens his grip on your thigh to yank you down so you’re lying down underneath him.

His lips latch onto your neck and you let out a whine that has blood rushing to his cock. He sucks a bruise right over your pulse before his hand comes up to lower the strap of your bra. Pulling the garment down, he lowers himself to press kisses and suck on your breast, before moving to the other side to repeat with the other one.

“Hurry up,” you murmur from under him, thighs rubbing against each other. Jungkook chuckles, and nibbles slightly on your nipple, drawing a whimper from you.

“Patience, princess. Good things come to those who wait,” his hand reaches down, and he strokes a single finger over your clothed core, and you shudder. “So wet already and I’ve barely done anything,” he notes, mouth still closed around your breast. Letting go with a slight plop, he looks at you hungrily. “Let me eat you out.”

You raise your eyebrows but do not object, and Jungkook moves down, pressing kisses to your navel, until he arrives between your thighs. Using both hands to spread your thighs apart, his gaze moves from you to your core. He buries his nose in your pussy without warning.

“You smell fucking amazing,” he tells you and your face heats up instantly, your arms coming up to cover your face in embarrassment.

“I told you, I don’t like dirty talk,” you say, your voice coming out in gasps. Jungkook smiles over your pussy, mouthing it over your underwear.

“Too bad,” he mutters against you, and your toes curl from the vibrations his voice causes through you. “I’m gonna tell you exactly what I want to do to you whether you like it or not.” Hooking a finger through your underwear, he moves it to the side. He licks a stripe up your folds, before burying his nose back into your pussy, tongue lapping at your juices. You’re writhing under him and he places his hands on your thighs to steady you. You’re gasping for air, little moans leaving your pretty pink lips.

Jungkook feels your hand tangle in his hair as he sloppily eats you out. You’re dripping on his tongue and he, in turn, is practically salivating at the taste of you. Your hand tightens its grip on his hair, and he feels you grind down on his tongue.

“O-oh my god,” you gasp. “Jungkook.” He pulls away from you and looks up at you. Your juices cover his lips and chin and you’re looking down at him, eyes blown out, hair in disarray.

“Yeah? You like that?” he groans out, and you nod desperately. “Like it when I fuck you with my tongue?”

“P-please,” you whisper, and he grins.

“Tell me what you want baby,” Your ears turn red at that and you look away. He climbs up to hover over your face and lowers his lips onto yours. His tongue is immediately in your mouth, its sloppy and wet and he knows you taste yourself on him. Its an exchange of spit mixed with your essence and when Jungkook pulls away, a string of saliva connects the two of you. He watches as it snaps and dribbles down the corner of your lips. You’re panting now. “Tell me.”

“Your fingers,” you mutter, clearly embarrassed. Jungkook’s smile widens.

“My fingers where?”

“C’mon Jeon, don’t be a dick.”

“Alright, I’ll stop,” Jungkook answers noncommittally, pulling away to sit back on your bed. You moan and your hand covers his wrist in an attempt to stop him. He grins.

“Your fingers inside me.” You answer, face as red as a strawberry. Jungkook’s grin widens and he leans back down to place a small kiss on the corner of your lips. His hand travels back down to between your thighs and he strokes your folds with his index finger.

Without warning, he shoves two fingers in you, and you moan, small hands curling around his biceps, nails digging into his skin.  He buries his nose in the crook of your neck, and your hand tangles in his hair again. It’s quiet except for your gasps and moans and the sound of his fingers steadily pumping in and out of your pussy. He can feel that you’re near your high, so he carelessly shoves a third finger inside you, increasing his speed. Before you know it, you’re chasing your high, coming all around his fingers with a loud squelching sound and a gasp.

“Like music to my ears,” Jungkook hums, nudging his nose against your jaw. Your hands caress his chest, sides before one travels down to palm the tent in his jeans. Jungkook gasps, biting down on your shoulder. Boldened by his reaction, you twist your hips, so your knee rubs against his crotch and Jungkook freezes. You take this opportunity to flip him over, so you’re settled on top of him, your hair spilling around you. Jungkook lies back on your pillow, bringing his fingers that were just in you up to your mouth. You run your tongue along them, and he shoves them deep in your throat before pulling them out and spreading the mixture of saliva and your wetness across your face.

Your hands spread across his chest as you grind down on him and he groans.

“My turn,” you whisper, leaning forward and placing a chaste kiss on his lips. Your hips are swirling over his crotch as your mouth moves from his lips to kiss his jaw, neck and then moving down to swirl your tongue over a perk nipple. You’ve undone his pants and he takes no time pushing them down. You palm him over his boxers before pulling them down too and letting his dick spring free. You suck in a breath, tongue hungrily swiping out to wet your lips.

You waste no time to take him in your mouth. Unlike Jungkook, you’re not a teaser and Jungkook throws his head back and groans as your lips wrap around his length. Your head bobs up and down between his legs and Jungkook closes his eyes and loses himself to the feeling. His fingers tangle in your hair, gripping it tightly until his hips are out of control and he’s fucking up into your mouth. You let him, slackening your jaw, tongue lying flat against the underside of his dick. Jungkook gets high off of the sound of you gagging on his cock, spit dripping down him and onto your bedsheets. He’s so fucking close he’s seeing stars.

It takes all his self control to sit up and signal you to stop. You look at him, lips swollen and wet, a mixture of precum and saliva messily splayed across your face.

“No more,” he rasps, pulling you close and flipping you over so he’s on top again. “Need to be inside you right now. Condom?” You breathe out that you’re on the pill before smiling coyly up at him. Jungkook is painfully hard and wastes no time to slip inside of you. You let out your loudest moan yet, and he waits for you to get accustomed to his length in you.

“You can move,” you tell him, voice hoarse. Jungkook nods and pulls out only to slam right back in you with a groan. The first few strokes are long and languid until you’re pinching his nipple and motioning him to take you harder.

“I’m not a fucking porcelain doll,” you ground out. “Fuck me like you mean it Jeon.” Jungkook grits his teeth and pulls out of you completely. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when he flips you over like a ragdoll so you’re lying on your stomach.

“Fine,” he grunts. “You’re such a brat.” You shiver at his tone and he’s gripping your ass to prop it up, pushing your face with one hand so you’re buried face down in your pillow.

Without warning he shoves himself back in you, one hand on your hip, the other still pushing your face into your mattress. He sets an unforgiving pace, ramming into you without pause until your muffled screams could be heard in your pillow.

“How’s that?” he grinds out, planting a smack on your ass as you moan. “That hard enough for you?”

“Y-yes,” you manage to scream. He shoves two fingers into your mouth, spanking your ass between thrusts until you’re smarting and red. Your garble moans around his fingers, drool lacing your pillow until he’s twisting his hand back in your hair and pulling you up flush against him. Grabbing one of your breasts he bites down on your shoulder.

“Fuck you feel so good around my cock,” he whispers in your ear and you shiver. Your ass is sore, but Jungkook shows no mercy, stroking it with his right hand and continuing to smack it. His hand moves around to rub over your clit and you almost fall over at the stimulation but his other hand clutching your breast keeps you upright. “You’re gonna cum now sweetheart? Milk my cock for all its worth?”

“Oh my god, Jungkook please,” you’re almost sobbing

“Come on baby, you can do it,” he croons, and you look over your shoulder at him and he wastes no time in closing the distance and planting his lips on yours. Without warning you’re coming, and that too all over Jungkook’s hand, dripping down your thighs and onto the bed. He’s not far behind, your convulsing pussy driving him over the edge before he’s releasing his load in you. You collapse on all fours in front of him as he pulls out.

“Damn,” he says, bringing his hand up to show you. “So, you’re a squirter, huh?”

“What?” your ears turn red as you look back at him. “Oh, my fucking god.” You watch as Jungkook licks his fingers clean without hesitation before collapsing on the bed next to you.

“Don’t tell me that was your first time squirting,” he grins. You look away in embarrassment, and he props himself up on his elbow, head resting on his hand. “Wow I’m just that good.”

“You’re such an ass,” you mutter. Jungkook cackles in delight.

You and Jungkook fall into a routine after that. There are multiple trysts, mostly at one of your apartments after work, a few in the bathroom of restaurants while you’re out with your friends, and one (1) time at work when you arrived for your weekly lunch date wearing the tiniest skirt Jungkook had ever fucking seen.

Sex with you is easy. Being friends with you is also easy. Jungkook can’t believe how simple you make his life. You’re a good friend, always willing to listen. He tells you things about his life back in LA, his ex and how thankful he was that he was finally out of a five-year relationship. You talk about your family, your sisters, your childhood. There are still lines the two of you don’t cross. Jungkook knows your last relationship left you scarred, but you never mention it and Jungkook never mentions his father. Some things are better left unsaid.

It isn’t until one day when you’ve dragged Jungkook out to Macy’s on the hunt for a new outfit you need to go meet a potential new recruit, that he manages to find the missing puzzle piece.

He’s sat through you trying out at least fifteen different shirts, all of which look the same to him, but you insist they’re not. It’s after you’ve finally picked out a dress shirt, some trousers and a new pair of “killin” shoes that the two of you collapse in a café across from the department store, your bags surrounding you.

“God, nothing feels better than a day full of shopping for shit,” you say, taking a huge sip out of your (soy) cappuccino. Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“I’ll show you exactly what’s better tonight” he mutters and its your turn to roll your eyes.

“Can you please keep it in your pants for a minute,” you groan. “I’m actually nervous about recruiting this guy.”

“Please,” Jungkook huffs. “You’re gonna be fine, you’re a natural!”

“Really?” You’re raising your eyebrows. “After the shit show you had to put up with?”

“Excuse me?” Jungkook pretends to be offended. “I’m here, aren’t I? You won me over.”

“Barely. For fucks sake you arrived to see me on the fucking baggage belt.” you huff, placing your head down on the table. Jungkook watches you, a twinge of sympathy running through him.

“Look, you are good at what you do. I don’t think I’m an easy person to convince, if I do say so myself,” he says, voice gentler. You look up at him slowly, figure still hunched. “Maybe you’re a little unorthodox but hey! We need someone like that. Just be yourself, you’re gonna be fine.”

“You think so?” you’re pouting, and Jungkook’s heart melts a little.

“100%”

You’re smiling faintly at him when the two of you hear your name being called. You freeze and look past Jungkook, a glassy look overtaking your eyes.

“It is you!” the voice comes closer and Jungkook turns around to look at what is possibly the most beautiful man he’s ever seen in his life. He’s tall, hair pushed back in a neat part, wearing a three-piece suit. In front of him, Jungkook feels like a giant toddler in his sweatpants and colorful hoodie and messy hair.

“Seokjin.” Your voice is hushed and oddly quiet, something Jungkook has never seen before. He eyes the two of you curiously.

“How have you been?” The man – Seokjin – asks. “It’s been forever.”

“Yeah,” you clear your throat. “It really has.” It’s awkward for a minute until Seokjin’s eyes land on Jungkook. His eyes travel to the cups of coffee in front of the two of you, and something flits across his expression.

“I’m sorry, are you two--,” he starts, and you’re rushing to correct him, but for some reason, Jungkook’s body moves on instinct.

“I’m Jungkook,” he says, getting up and offering a hand.

“Seokjin,” the man answers, taking it and shaking it firmly. “It’s nice to meet you.” There’s another beat of silence and then a girl is running toward you, calling Seokjin’s name. Seokjin freezes as the girl catches up to him, laying a hand on his shoulder to catch her breath. Jungkook feels you freeze up even more, if possible.

“Hi!” she says brightly, looking from Jungkook to you. “Friends of yours Jinnie?” she addresses the taller man. Jungkook doesn’t fail to notice that she’s just as beautiful as Seokjin. Pretty people really do stick together. You stand up abruptly behind Jungkook and he feels you clutch at the back of his hoodie, out of Seokjin’s gaze. Seokjin clears his throat.

“U-uhm, this is Joohyun,” he offers. “My fiancée.” At this point you’re tugging wildly at the back of Jungkook’s hoodie and he isn’t stupid. He gets the hint.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says, plastering on his best fake-charming smile. Joohyun seems to buy it because she grins back. “But we really are in a rush. Places to be! Nice meeting you guys!” and he turns around without another word, grabs your hand in one of his and picks up your bags in a single fluid motion with his other. Then he’s pulling you out of there, away from the café, away from Seokjin and out into the busy street.

You walk behind him wordlessly, hand still clasped in his and he drags you up a few blocks until you’re at Bryant Park. The two of you find a bench and collapse in it, slightly out of breath.

“Thanks,” you whisper, after a while.

“No problem.” Jungkook replies.

“You’re not gonna ask?”

“Should I ask?” He turns to look at you. You chuckle weakly and lean back to stare up at the tall trees.

“My ex-boyfriend,” you say. “Obviously.” Jungkook had figured that but he nods along anyway. “He—uhm—cheated on me,” you continue and Jungkook suddenly feels white-hot rage curling inside him. You’d mentioned it before on the first day of his new job, at brunch, but it hadn’t registered until now. “With the girl we just met.”

“What the actual fuck.” He mutters, running a hand through his hair.

“He’s the reason why I can’t--,” you start, then stop. You take a deep breath before continuing. “Why I can’t get myself to enter into another relationship.” Jungkook doesn’t know what to say to that but it doesn’t seem like you care. Now that you’re talking, the floodgates are open.

“We’d been together since college. I imagined we’d be endgame y’know? Everyone always told me how lucky I was to bag a man so attractive and smart and I felt lucky. Jin was always the best, the most caring, the most loving. We had some really great times together. But then… I don’t know… college ended and careers happened and I struggled to find a job straight out of university, while Seokjin comes from a long line of rich businessmen and he was already working for his dad’s company by graduation. We drifted after that. A part of me resented his privilege, I was envious of what he had. I took it out on him, and I guess he-he—”

“That does not give him the right to cheat on you.” Jungkook stops you. “I get being unhappy in relationships, I really do, but in no way is that the correct response.” Your eyes are glassy and full of unshed tears.

“She’s like him, y’know,” you continue, sniffing. “Beautiful, successful, I heard she owns a clothing line. Seeing them together it made me realize that I was the anomaly.”

“Don’t.” Jungkook says. “Don’t put yourself down. Look at you!” He gestures at you and you look up. “You’re smart, cute, successful. He’s trash for not recognizing that.”

“No, what I am is broken,” you give him a small, watery smile. “I haven’t been able to let anyone in since Seokjin and I broke almost a year ago.” Jungkook sighs and shuffles closer to you. Sniffling, you lean over to rest your head on his shoulder. “Thanks for today Kook,” you murmur against him. “I don’t know what I’d have done if you weren’t there.”

Jungkook sighs and leans over to kiss the top of your head lightly. The two of you sit there, amongst the chirping birds and trees, leaning on each other. Jungkook squeezes your hand and tries not to think of the unfamiliar feeling curling inside his stomach.

Things change after that. Jungkook finds that the two of you are almost domestic with each other. You stay over more often, and he finds you in his kitchen in the mornings, flipping pancakes wearing nothing but his button down. It’s so normal that Jungkook often has to take a step back and remember that the two of you are just friends. Seasons change from autumn into winter and a sheet of snow covers Manhattan.

“My sister’s in town,” Jungkook tells you one morning, offhandedly.

“Older or younger?” You’re making pancakes in his kitchen and you set down a plate of them in front of him before returning to make yourself some. Jungkook shakes the can of whipped cream next to him before squirting himself some.

“Older,” he grins. “She lives in LA with Dad and she’s in New York for business.” It’s the first time Jungkook has mentioned his father in front of you since the day the two of you met. You don’t prod. “My parents are separated,” he offers.

“I figured,” you shrug, sitting down across from him and refusing the can of whipped cream when he offers it. “Do you hate him or something?”

“What? No!” Jungkook laughs. “We just aren’t close that’s all. Everyone expects me to be this prodigy because of my Dad’s reputation, but I barely know the guy. Anyway, my sister wants to meet you.”

“Me?” You’re surprised.

“Yeah she wants to see who it was that convinced me to leave LA.”

“Oh, so that’s my reputation in the Jeon household now is it?” Jungkook gives you a cheeky grin. “How nerve-wracking—you sure you want me meeting your family? Makes us sound more than we are.”

“It’s not like that,” Jungkook argues, ignoring the faint twinge of disappointment somewhere deep within himself. “She’s only in town for three days. Come get some brunch with us tomorrow.”

“Fine. But you need to do something for me in return,” Your mouth is full of pancake and your hair is mussed but Jungkook smiles endearingly. “I have this… thing I got invited to tonight and I need you to be my date.”

“Are you sure? It makes us sound more than we are,” Jungkook throws your words back at you and you kick his shin under the table.

“Shut up, it’s my childhood friend’s Christmas party and our families are close so I have to go but I don’t have a plus-one and I need you there to keep me sane. Seokjin’s gonna be there.”

“You’re asking if I want to go with you,” he starts slowly. “To a Christmas party. As your date.”

“Well, yeah,” you shrug. “We go, drink at the open bar until we can’t see straight and then come home and you pound me into your tempur-pedic.”

“You’re disgusting,” he grins. “But, okay, I’m in--what the hell.”

“Do you have a tux?”

“Girl look who you speaking to,” he gestures at himself, sitting up straight and throwing his chest out. “Of fucking course, I have a tux.”

Wow, Jungkook thinks to himself that evening as you stand in your door in front of him. Long olive-green silk hugging every curve of your body, you grin up at him. You’d tamed your hair by pinning one side up, clutch in one hand, and feet in black pumps.

“Well?” you grin. Jungkook whistles, shoving his hands in his plain black tuxedo.

“Yeah well, you clean up nice too Jeon,” you pat him cheerfully on his chest, causing a warm feeling to flutter through him. “Let’s go do this thing.” You straighten his tie, and Jungkook swallows. He doesn’t know when exactly it happened, but over the course of time you really have him wrapped around your little finger.

The two of you uber down, your warm body next to his as you tell him some inconsequential story about your high school prom.

“We didn’t have prom at my school,” he tells you and you gape at him. “We had sports day though.”

“That is so sad.”

“Not really,” Jungkook shrugs. “Social gatherings are terrifying.”

“Never would’ve pegged you as the socially anxious type Jeon.”

“Well I am,” Jungkook rests his elbow on the car door, his chin in his hand to look outside. “I can’t believe I’m going to this rich people thing with you.”

“C’mon! It’ll be fun!” you send twin finger guns his way and he smiles wantonly.

“No seriously,” he says, looking at you, chin still balanced on his hand. “Thank you. You always manage to take the edge off and make things less intimidating and make me feel like I can step out of my comfort zone.” You blink at him, grin fading at his sincerity.

“What’re friends for, right?” you say, your voice quiet.

“Right,” he says back, just as quiet.

“You know,” you ramble on. “When I first saw you, you did totally strike me as a stereotypical fratboy. I was a little scared.”

“Of me?” Jungkook points at himself, surprised. You lean back in your seat and rest your head back.

“Yeah,” you mutter. “You reminded me of the guys I went to high school with. The jerks that ranked the girls by how fuckable they were and shoved kids into lockers and giggled at you as you tried to present your history project to the class.”

“Why didn’t you just beat them up?” Jungkook isn’t offended by your generalization. He knows what you mean. “The you I know would’ve stabbed someone’s eye out with a pencil.”

“I was different when I was sixteen,” you smile. “But you’re right, now I’m not beyond stabbing someone’s eyes out with a pencil. Anyway, I’m sorry for judging you.”

“It happens,” Jungkook shrugs but you shake your head vigorously.

“No, you’re sweet,” you continue. “I’m so happy we met. And that we’re friends now.”

“I’m glad too,” Jungkook grins, punching you lightly on your shoulder. “Are you sure you can do this? I saw how you were when you saw Seokjin that day.” You bite your lip and look out the window.

“I’ll be fine,” you say slowly. “I have you.” Jungkook blinks and gulps.

“Listen, there’s something I need to tell you—” he starts but the uber is arriving at the venue and you’re getting ready to step out of the car. Jungkook stares at the ceiling before getting himself out. Checking in your coats at the entrance, the two of you enter together.

You were right, Jungkook notes. This isn’t just some Christmas party. Lights sparkle down at him and the massive Christmas tree in front of him is decorated to the nines. The bar is sparkling with decorations, and the tables are decorated with fancy centerpieces and champagne flutes. People wearing black tie are mingling, men in tuxedos, women in floor length gowns.

“God,” you whisper next to him.

“You didn’t tell me you were also Richie Rich rich,” Jungkook whispers back and you jab him in the side with your elbow. “Oh my god you’re a trust fund baby! You’re Gossip Girl!”

“Oh my god shut up,” you’re giggling. “I’m the family’s black sheep, fortunately for you. I refused to major in what my parents wanted me to major in and that was apparently the final straw. I’m surprised Yoongi even bothered to invite me – we haven’t spoken in months. There he is now.”

A man shorter than Jungkook is making his way towards them. He’s got effortlessly tousled black hair and his ears are adorned with many earrings. His eyes flit lazily towards Jungkook before landing on you and he’s pulling you into a hug.

“Yoongi!” you say grinning, returning his embrace and he smiles, changing his entire demeanour. “How are you, this is amazing!”

“Thought I’d do something to get the old gang together,” he shrugs. “I’m happy you came.”

“This is Jungkook, we—uhm—worked together.”

“Ah one of her recruits huh?” Yoongi is shaking Jungkook’s hand. “Min Yoongi, pleasure to meet you. Please make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook is sure his palms are sweating again. He picks up a flute of champagne from a waiter passing by and takes a huge gulp. You and Yoongi exchange pleasantries for a little while longer and then he leaves the two of you to greet some other guests that are just arriving.

“Wanna go to the bar?” You’re pulling him in the direction of the alcohol before he can say yes. You wave down the bartender and order your drink and turn to Jungkook. “You okay?”

“Why? Is it obvious I’m freaking out?”

“You country bumpkins are so cute,” You pinch his cheek. “What were you trying to tell me in the cab?” Jungkook looks sideways at you, but sees who’s approaching and clears his throat.

Seokjin looks even better than Jungkook remembered, in a well-tailored suit, holding a glass of wine. You turn and freeze momentarily.

“Jin! Hey,” your voice is steady and Jungkook is almost proud of you.

“I’m glad you made it,” Seokjin mirrors Yoongi’s words from earlier. “You didn’t last year.”

“Yeah, well,” you say sheepishly. “There were just some people I couldn’t face last year.”

Ouch, Jungkook thinks, on Seokjin’s behalf. If Seokjin hears the slight bite in your tone, he pretends not to notice.

“You’re Jungkook, right?” Seokjin’s addressing Jungkook now. “From the mall.”

“Yeah, good to see you again man,” Jungkook smiles and the smile Seokjin gives him in return is incredibly genuine. Your hand is snaking down and gripping Jungkook’s, and he gives you a squeeze, something that doesn’t escape Seokjin.

“Are you two together?” he asks conversationally, and Jungkook is about to vehemently deny the question, when you squeeze his hand back.

“We are,” you answer, much to Jungkook’s shock. He almost chokes on the last of his champagne before he puts the empty glass down on the bar. “We met at work.” He’s trying to calm himself down, trying to stop that warm feeling bursting through him again. You talk to Seokjin for a few more minutes before he’s leaving the two of you to your own devices again.

“So, you beat me to what I wanted to tell you in the cab earlier,” Jungkook grins. You look up at him and he leans in, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. “That I like you,”

“W-what’re you talking about?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. Jungkook leans in and nudges his nose against the column of your throat.

“I meant what I said,” he mumbles, pressing kisses under your jaw. “I’m asking you out. Officially.”

“We’re in public,” you’re hissing, firm grip on his wandering hands. Jungkook grins and leans back against the bar, shoving both hands into the pockets of his trousers. “And you don’t mean that.”

“Of course I do,” he schools his expression into one of sincerity. “You’re awesome, I love spending time with you. We have a lot of fun. Am I wrong?”

“You’re just being reckless—”

“Believe me, I am a lot of things, and reckless isn’t one of them.” Jungkook frowns. “Do you not feel the same way? I just assumed—”

“No, no,” your eyes are wide, panicked. “I like you too Jungkook, of course I do.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” You’re looking at him, eyes wide and he watches your gaze flit past him over his shoulder. Raising his eyebrows, he turns his head over his shoulder to see what you’re staring at. His mouth forms a straight line when he realizes its not a what, but a who.

“Seokjin,” he says, the bitterness leaking into his voice. “You’re still in love with him. Of course, why didn’t I see it before.”

“No! Jungkook, that’s not—”

“So, bringing me here as your date, what you said just now to Seokjin – what was that? A ploy to make him jealous? Hoping he’d run back to you? What, you didn’t wanna show up alone in front of him, so I was your safe fallback?” Jungkook is seeing white, his fists clenched, embarrassment and humiliation washing through him. “I’m just a distraction to you.” Your bottom lip is trembling now and you’re vigorously shaking your head, but Jungkook feels so empty and suddenly finds he doesn’t care. “I’m done. I don’t need to set myself up to get hurt by coming in between whatever this is you have going on with that guy.” He’s pulling his tie loose.

“No, don’t leave,” you’re begging, small hands grasping his arm in a last-ditch attempt. Jungkook sighs, untangling himself from your hold. “Please, Jungkook, hear me out—”

“I hear you loud and clear,” he says, a sad smile breaking out onto his face. Pulling off his tie he undoes the first two buttons on his shirt, trying to breathe. Clenching his fist, he’s walking past you before stopping to turn and take one last look at you. “We’re still friends okay? I just need some time. And for the record, telling you this as a friend, you’ll never be free for as long as you’re seeking Seokjin’s—or anyone’s – validation.”

And then he’s walking out of there, away from you, from a life that never really belonged to him. All he wants to do is to get out of this stifling suit throw on his sweatpants, drown himself in an obscene amount of chocolate and play Overwatch all night.

“Slow down, you’re gonna throw up those eggs if you don’t slow down,” Jungkook’s sister chastises from across the table. “Jesus, you and Junghyun are both such fast eaters because you don’t chew. You’re gonna die early.”

“I’d like to die now,” Jungkook answers, his mouth full of medium-poached eggs and hollandaise.

“So, you got rejected, what’s the big deal?” She asks. “You’re a grown man. Pick yourself up, dust yourself off and move the fuck on.”

“Easy for you to say Miss-I’m-engaged-to-the-love-of-my-life” Jungkook doesn’t mean to sound bitter. “How am I even going to face her after all this. I’m an idiot.”

“You really are,” his sister responds, elbow resting on the table and chin balanced on that elbow. “You always like to think you’re this cool, collected, distant guy when in reality you’re a giant softie that believes in soulmates.”

“I do not.”

“Yeah,” she grins. “You do,” She sighs. “Look Jungkook, that’s not a bad thing. In fact, it’s endearing, and there’s nothing wrong with giving yourself completely to someone. Just make sure whoever you’re giving yourself to is worth it.”

“You don’t think she’s worth it?” Jungkook asks glumly.

“She’s confused, it seems. And that is never a good thing, not in relationships.”

“So, what do I do? I’m still gonna see her at work occasionally.”

“Don’t do anything. The ball’s in her court. You’ve bared yourself to her already and she can either accept that or reject it. And eventually, it’ll get easier to be around her. You might even go back to being friends. And try to move on, will you?”

“With whom?”

“I have someone at work I can introduce you to,” she hums. “If you’re willing.”

“Whatever,” Jungkook mutters. “How’s dad?” His sister stares at him, expression suddenly serious.

“Well,” she sighs. “That’s also why I’m here to see you.” She says quietly

Jungkook is avoiding you. You may not be the most intelligent person in any room, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. He hasn’t replied to any of your texts, dutifully turning his read receipts off so you don’t even know if he’s seen your messages. Whenever you drop by his work for one of your meetings, his office is always closed. You suspect Park Jimin has something to do with Jungkook knowing exactly when you’ll be by the company. When you corner Jimin about this though, he’s tight-lipped, always regarding you with a slightly judgemental stare. It’s clear where his alliance lies.

You could always drop by his place, but even you admit that’s bordering on being pushy. He did say he needed space but its almost been a month and you haven’t as much as seen his coconut head. The New Year passes just like that and you celebrate by finishing two entire bottles of wine by yourself and watching Love Actually for the twenty-seventh time. Yoongi invites you to his New Years’ party too but you decline, not wanting a reminder of what went down at his last bash. You also want nothing to do with Seokjin.

At first you were angry over what Jungkook had said to you before he’d left that party. But soon after, once you’d calmed down, you’d realized he was right. Seokjin was never going to look at you and it was foolish to wait around while he carried on with his life. You deserved better, and Jungkook had taught you that. The realization was oddly freeing.

More than anything, you miss your friend. The coffee dates, the weekly brunches, someone to watch cheesy movies with. And, you admit shamefully, you also mis his dick. Jungkook had been right, you should’ve given the two of you a chance.

It isn’t until a cold morning in February, a whole two and a half months after the entire fiasco, that you finally see Jungkook. He’s standing outside the building, winter coat on and a burgundy scarf around his neck. He looks out of character, dressed like a businessman instead of the usual college-boy sweatpants and baggy t-shirts that you’re used to seeing him in. His hair is longer than it was when you saw him last, curling slightly at the ends. It suits him. He’s chatting happily with Namjoon about something, waving his hands around descriptively, matching cups of coffees in their hands.

You hesitate to get out of your uber, but you’re late for your nine am. There’s no way to avoid him, with the two of them standing right in front of the entrance. You step out of the cab hesitatingly and Jungkook sees you right away. If he’s nervous about running into you, he doesn’t show it. Instead, his face softens into a small smile and he gives a small wave in greeting. You return his greeting shyly.

“Oh, hey,” Namjoon greets, as you approach the two of them slowly. “Got a meeting today?”

“Yeah,” you reply, eyes travelling from Jungkook to Namjoon. “I’m late.”

“I’ll leave you guys to it then,” there’s nothing sly in Namjoon’s tone, but the guy is like, insanely intelligent and you don’t doubt his intentions. “Gotta see Yoongi about this newest track I’ve been working on.”

Jungkook bids Namjoon goodbye before the two of you are making your way inside.

“How have you been?” you’re the first to break the silence. Jungkook takes a sip of his drink.

“Good,” he answers. “I finally beat Breath of the Wild.”

“Took you long enough,” you tease, and he chuckles. You follow him into the elevator and watch as he presses your floor for you, along with his. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah, I,” he clears his throat. “I went to LA to see my dad,” You whip your head to look at him. “He wasn’t well so I worked remotely for a month or so.” So, he was never actually avoiding you, he wasn’t even in the city! You feel oddly relieved.

“How is he?”

“Fine,” Jungkook replies. You can’t help but notice that his animated self from earlier is gone, replaced by someone more somber. “I spent Christmas there.” The elevator doors open at your floor and you step out.

“Listen Jungkook,” you say quickly turning around. He pauses, pressing the button to keep the doors open, and looks at you questioningly. “I’m sorry – for everything.”

“Don’t apologize for your feelings,” that small smile is back.

“No! I mean – I’d really like it if we can be friends again,” you’re panicking. “I’ve missed you.” He grins at that, reminding you of the Jungkook you’d been intimate with.

“I’ve missed you too,” he answers, and something in your chest lifts. “Of course, we’re still friends.”

“Okay—wanna get brunch with me this week? The usual place.”

“I’ll text you.” Is all he says before he lets the doors close, leaving you standing there, slightly breathless.

You spend the rest of your day with a bounce in your step.

Things return to normal after that – somewhat. You and Jungkook start hanging out again, but you can tell something is off. He’s cheerful as always, but he’s holding back. It’s obvious that whatever he offered you that day at Yoongi’s party is no longer on the table. He’s guarded, confides in you less, heart locked away in a place you can’t even begin to reach.

But he’s here, in your life, tangible and real, and you tell yourself that this is enough. Until one day, when it all comes crashing down.

You’re at his place, and he’s retreated back into the kitchen to get the two of you more beers. His phone lights up, vibrating on the coffee table in front of you. It’s not that you mean to pry, but your eyes unconsciously travel to the notification that’s blaring on his screen.

1 New Message Jieun: Hey! We still on for tomorrow night, right? Gonna wear that dress you like 😉

You swallow. Of course, he’s seeing someone. Everything makes sense – the reason he was able to have you back in his life was because he’d moved on and rightfully so. The two of you aren’t teenagers – you are adults, and he is well within his rights to find someone else when you’d so obviously rejected him. You wonder, why then, your chest aches.

Jungkook reappears, holding two bottles of beer in each hand. Placing them on the coffee table next to his phone, he offers you one, which you accept, plastering a grin on your face. He grabs one himself, picking up his phone and collapsing on the couch next to you to turn his attention back to the movie that the two of you had been watching. From the corner of your eye, you watch as he checks his messages, eyes lighting up, a smile on his face as he types up a response.

You spend the rest of the night holding in tears.

You invite Taehyung to yours the next day as a distraction. He insists on watching some documentary about gothic architecture, but you don’t mind. Whatever takes your mind off Jungkook. And what he might be doing right now.

“You know, you are insane,” Taehyung comments offhandedly.

“Excuse me?”

“The both of you,” he continues, lounging on your couch a little too comfortably. “Insanity.” You continue to stare at him, and he sighs. “You and Jeon.”

“What about Jungkook?”

“He’s in love with you,” Taehyung answers plainly, as though he’s telling you today’s weather forecast. Your stomach drops. “And you like him too, but are too dumb to admit it.” You scoff.

“He has a date tonight. That hardly screams ‘in love with me’” You point out. It’s Taehyung’s turn to scoff.

“Please,” he chuckles, arms coming up to rest behind his head. He sits like your dad. “It’s only his third date with that girl. It’s nothing serious.”

“And he’s not in love with me.”

“He is,” Taehyung insists. “Told me so himself. I wasn’t gonna say anything because it’s none of my damn business but the two of you are so atrociously stupid—”

“He…told you?” you pause the documentary.

“Yes. Last week,” Taehyung is talking as though he hasn’t dropped the biggest bombshell on you. “But he’s putting himself out there because he thinks you don’t feel the same way. Frankly, I’m tired.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you whisper. Taehyung checks his watch.

“Because, you still have time. Time to go get him.” You laugh.

“He’s not even gonna be back yet,” you point out. “Plus, what if I go there and he’s having her over? Third dates basically mean sex.”

“He’s not gonna sleep with her.” Taehyung tells you.

“Oh, and I assume he told you that too—”

“He did.”

“What sort of conversation were the two of you even having?” You’re incredibly confused

“A deep one,” Taehyung’s monotone voice is starting to irk you. “I took him out for tea. He’s home right now – by the way.”

“Why do you know so much Kim Taehyung?”

“It’s because I’m always minding my own, and vibing,” he informs you. “Go get your man, for fucks sake.” You’re already running around grabbing your keys and coat.

“Thanks Tae,” you mutter, giving the sleepy boy a kiss on the cheek. He smiles, leaning further back into your couch and turns his documentary back on as you rush out of your apartment.

There aren’t any ubers around your place at this time on a Friday night and you’re stuck taking the subway to Jungkook’s. Tapping your foot impatiently on the 4,5 line you rush out as soon as the train doors open, running to the building you know he lives in.

Your mind is blank as you stand outside his place and ring the doorbell. The faint music coming from the inside stops and you barely have time to second guess your choices before the door is opening and Jungkook is standing in front of you. Dressed in a crinkled dress shirt and black slacks, it looks like he got home not too long ago. He looks at you in surprise. Before he can open his mouth and ask why you’re standing on his doorstep wearing your sweatpants under your winter jacket looking haggard, you step forward, crushing your lips onto his.

His response isn’t immediate, you’ve caught him by surprise. But slowly he melts into the kiss, arms coming up to rest on your waist. You grasp wildly at the shirt on his shoulders.

“Are you sure about this?” he’s whispering, shutting the door behind you as you push him further into his apartment. “Know that I want more?”

“More sure than of anything else I’ve been in my life,” you whisper back, pulling away. “And whatever you want, I want it too. I want you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that.”

“How did you know that I still wanted this?” he asks, before his face clears of the confusion and he’s grinning like he knows exactly how.

“We’re really gonna have to send Taehyung an expensive bottle of wine soon,” you grin back. “But first, I need you out of these pants.”

[sylverstorms]

Miranda x Mia---- Eternal

A Ko-Fi commission I wrote for the wonderful @saltwatereulogies. Thank you so very much for the support and I hope you enjoy the fic!

Drip. Splatter.

The first sound you’re aware of is that of the occasional waterdrop crashing onto the same humid, uneven floor you’re lying on.

The second is the sound of her voice.

“Rise and shine.” she says, somewhere off to the side. You are still too disoriented to pinpoint exactly where.

You’re not dizzy enough, though, to not immediately realize you’re trapped. The way the light behind your captor shines makes it all the more obvious, casting large shadows in the shape of your prison bars across your small, moldy cell.

“Y-you…” you struggle to talk. Your throat is too dry and your temples pound like a war drum. It feels like you’ve collided with a truck. And yet her voice commanding you to sleep is the last thing you remember.

“I haven’t formally introduced myself. Though I’m sure your friend has told you about me.”

You blink to make your vision focus yet it’s hopeless. She is but a dark blur to you –am I hallucinating or are those wings?

“My name is Miranda.”

Suddenly, that name snaps everything into focus so sharply you could get whiplash. You’re on your knees the next second, just about ready to leap at her. She’s the one. The one Chris warned you about. She may look like an angel but she is a devil.

“I don’t care who the hell you are! What do you want from me?!” you demand.

“Your cooperation in my experiments, for starters.” she says it calmly, but she is no fool to believe you’ll just agree to that, you can see it in her crystal-blue eyes.

“Ha! As if!” you retort.

“Well. That answer will change when I have Rose.” The name of your daughter makes every nerve ending in your body kick at once.

“What. Like Ethan will just hand her over to the likes of you?”

“Actually.”

A slow smirk crosses her full lips. Then their shape changes to match yours. All of her does, until you are left looking at a perfect mirror of yourself. Only, there’s no way you look quite that good inside of this shitty cell.

“He’ll hand her over to you.”

When she laughs, it is your own voice haunting your ears.

-

-

She has your daughter. She has your everything in her hands. So, she has your cooperation, as well.

Miranda doesn’t really talk when she comes to collect blood samples for whatever experiments she needs them. Your initial cries and questions were muted the second she told you the more helpful and less annoying you are, the more inclined she’ll feel to bring Rose to you for a while.

In the end, you do let yourself be her docile little lab rat.

Until you literally can’t take the silence anymore.

“Was it really… that easy?” ‘To enter my home and take my daughter’ you want to add but you can’t even get the words past your throat.

She seems to understand, though. “Effortless.” she isn’t being cocky as she says it. In fact, she seems almost surprised herself. At least, from the angle you get of her face, while she’s studying a strange rock-like substance under a microscope.

“How the hell did Ethan not figure out you aren’t me?!” That moron. He just gave your daughter to her. That clueless moron!

For a split second, you see her lip twitch in what could, perhaps, be a withheld smile. “I was there for a day, so. Seems like your husband doesn’t know you quite that well.”

Is it really fair to blame him for not knowing you, though? With the secrets you’ve kept from him? The distance? The trauma from the shared nightmare you experienced coming back to you every time you even looked at him?

God, Rose really is the only thing that kept you together, isn’t she…

It’s easy to hate the accursedly beautiful bitch outside your cell. It’s easy to blame Ethan for not even suspecting something was amiss with you for a whole damn day.

It is not so easy to blame yourself as much as you do them.

-

-

Miranda replies when you ask her things, so you ask her about herself. To your surprise, she does not shroud her motives from you.

She has lost her daughter, she tells you, and the only way to get her back is through yours. For the first time since you met her, you see emotion clearly expressed in her eyes and voice. You recognize how she longs to be with her child again.

You can understand the never-ending grief of a mother losing her offspring. You know if anything happened to Rose you would rather fling yourself off a cliff than live a life without her.

And apparently, that is what she tried to do, too. She tried to die –and discovered life instead. That is what she calls it, anyway. All you can hear as she explains is that she found –and founded— the Mold. The same one that ruined your husband and you.

One more reason to hate the psycho witch.

And yet.

When you try to reach for the rage you previously held for her, you find that it’s gone. You’re bitter, you’re exhausted, you want to cry and above everything you want to see Rose again. But you don’t loathe her as you should.

“What do you mean… the only way to get Eva back is through Rose?” you dare ask after several minutes of silence.

She turns to look at you, eyes as piercing as they are blue. “Technically, the trade is simple.” Maybe you’re losing it from the stress and lack of sleep, but you think she almost hesitates for a second. “…a life for a life.”

As soon as she speaks and the meaning of her words registers in your mind, you’re gripping at the rusty iron bars with all your might, rattling them, shouting profanities at her. You are back to hating her all over again. It’s much simpler this way.

Until… she walks over and grabs your hand over the metal. Her touch is oddly warm for such a glacial heart. You cannot tell what she does to you, but it feels like an aura flowing through your system that silences you. Calms you. You do not want to be calm.

“I wasn’t finished.” she speaks. “That is where the experiments with you come in. By running tests on your blood and Rose’s and using my DNA as a medium, during the ritual I can trick the Megamycete into giving me what I want through a form of mitosis. Essentially, cell duplication that will not override the existing vessel.”

To be honest… you lost her midway through the very first sentence. You were quite good with biology back in the day but right now, in the state you’re in, science is going right over your head.

“...Is there an English version of that.” you ask.

Her mouth curves into that almost-smile again. It would be quite gorgeous, actually, if she hadn’t kidnapped you, infiltrated your home as you and abducted your daughter.

“If the tests succeed, you get your daughter back, I get mine from cloned DNA and Mold cells.” There’s a hint of pride in her voice as she says it.

And now, assuming she’s telling the truth, you want those tests to succeed more than you want to get out of here. Her hand leaves yours and the weird calm she blasted into you dissipates with it.

“Wait. So…” Realization strikes you like a thunderclap. “So these tests are for me?”

“You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t say thank you, you crazy b—blonde.” You rattle the iron bars again, a tad weaker than before. She does smirk over the microscope, this time. “How likely are the tests to succeed?” you ask impatiently.

“Quite.” she replies, flat once again.

“…And if they don’t?” you hate how your voice shakes there, at the end.

She looks at you, dead in the eyes, as she answers: “I am getting my daughter back either way, Mia.”

You can’t believe it. You cannot believe you’re thinking this, but you hope the crazy bitch knows what she’s doing.

-

-

Miranda is… despicable, but she is a woman of her word.

She brings you Rose for hours at a time and in exchange you help her outside of your cell. You thought your daughter would be in a worse condition, considering who keeps her, yet she’s healthy as ever, well-fed and clean. The worst part is, she laughs every time Miranda comes close and she even reaches out for her.

“No, my darling, don’t do that.” you tell her, tucking her tighter in your arms, before the woman behind you notices what’s happening.

Except it’s too late. “Ah, I see.” Miranda speaks, coming up to you from behind. She’s tall enough to lean over your shoulder and wave at Rose, who moves both hands towards her. “A lady of taste.” the woman praises and the lightness to her voice almost makes her sound like someone else. Someone normal.

“Stop it.” You turn your child away from her. “She’s just confused because you’re lit up like a Christmas tree.” You motion with your chin at her getup.

Miranda chuckles. “What. She senses our bond. Rose feels safe with me.”

Safe with the monster who wants to sacrifice her to get her own child back. You cannot swallow that thought down. “But she’s not, is she?!” you snap.

“She is.” Miranda reverts to her cool facade, glancing down at your daughter. “I will never let anything hurt her. And when she gives me Eva back, I will make sure she grows up bathed in luxury.”

It’s the Mold, you’re sure of it.

It’s the Mold’s fault that you believe her.

-

-

You were supposed to see Rose today. Instead, Miranda comes into the cave alone, looking irritated. You start to worry. Nothing phases her without a good reason. What if—

“Where’s my daughter?!” you demand, eyes wide.

“We have a problem.” she tells you. Your blood goes cold in your veins. “A problem named Ethan Winters.”

“Ethan?” you gasp.

“He is trying to get Rose back and according to reports from the Lords under me, he cannot be killed. His hand got cut off and he just reattached it. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” she’s certain that you know. You can see it in her steely eyes.

“I— why would I—”

“Before you think to lie to me, hear something else. I bear good news, as well.” Miranda says. “I have succeeded in my experiments. During the ritual, I can guarantee Rose will remain unharmed and unchanged.” the edge of her lip curls up as she delivers the news. You almost cry from the sheer relief.

You almost leap forward and hug her, yet you remember who she is and that she caused this mess in the first place.

“But my conditions have changed.” her voice is a sword that cuts off your happiness just like that. You knew it was too good to be true. “For me to save Rose, you will tell me how to permanently get rid of Ethan Winters.”

…What?

She wants you to… trade your daughter for your husband? How the hell can I do that?!

“He has ruined too much for me to let him walk away happily now.” Her jaw is tight enough to sprout new lines on her flawless face. She wants him dead and she always gets what she wants. “He has killed colleagues of mine. Spat in the face of a damn-near god. I will have his head.”

The corners of your eyes sting with welling tears. Your body is far more honest than you in making a decision. Nobody is too important to sacrifice when it comes to your daughter. Not yourself. Not Ethan. And Miranda knows this better than anybody else. You loathe how she knows.

“Give him to me, Mia. And in a few days this whole thing will be over.” she continues in a significantly softer tone, getting closer to you. Her wings shift, the very edge of black feathers brushing your arms.

“You want me to aid in killing the father of my child?!” you sob, grabbing at her clothes. You’d expect her to shove you away, but she doesn’t move. She doesn’t even blink.

“You have been so cooperative and so brave.” she soothes, gold-taloned fingers coming underneath your chin. “Make one last sacrifice for me. Help me murder Ethan so Rose can live. Help me and I vow to be her eternal guardian angel. Hers and yours.”

She could just force the answer out of you. She’s touching you and you know she has that power. But she doesn’t do it and it’s far worse this way. She wants it to be your choice.

You look away from Miranda’s icy eyes and her promises of everything.

And you tell her.

-

-

You do not ask about Ethan. All that’s in your mind is the ceremony.

For the entire morning, you cannot breathe. You trace notes in her lab and pace around until you literally feel like you’ll explode—

And then Miranda comes in. She is radiant, smiling from ear to ear, glowing with pure joy. She looks every part the goddess she pretends to be. The golden circle usually adorning her back is gone, her long blonde hair is left free to flow like fine strands of silk past her square shoulders.

“It is done!” she tells you, a hand extended for you to take. “Come. I’ll take you to Rose and you will be the first to meet Eva.”

Her hand is warm when it closes around yours. Black wings shroud you both. There is a gravitational pull around you that’s so intense you shut your eyes and grab onto her biceps for dear life.

“You can look, now.” she speaks once the world is stable again. Your gut is churning, yet every bit of exhaustion and discomfort vanish the second you see Rose. She is safe within the first of the two golden cribs in front of you, bathed by the soft sunlight that disperses across the luxurious, dark-tiled chamber you’re in.

You run towards her, lifting your daughter in your arms and kissing her forehead over and over. She laughs at you, blue eyes crinkled. My love. My everything, you think. Everything was worth it for this moment. And you would do it all again, to ensure her safety.

Miranda’s steps, regal and authoritative, come to a stop near the other crib. You lean closer, take a look… to see another little angel there, sleeping peacefully. She resembles Rose, yet she resembles Miranda, too.

“Oh my God.” you breathe. “You really did it.”

“I did it and you and Rose made it possible, Mia.” she says. Your child extends a tiny hand towards her. She removes one of her claws and lets her finger be taken in your baby’s grip. “You don’t have to leave. She loves me already.” A proud smile curves her lips.

You hate how it looks like a sunrise.

You hate it even more that you understand why Rose is so charmed.

“Her mom can grow to love me, too.” Crystal eyes look into your own. “There is no place safer than by my side. Stay and we will raise them together. You won’t have to fear disease or death with me. You and Rose will have every little thing you could ever want. Forever.”

You don’t want your child to be co-patented by this selfish megalomaniac, who is the killer of her father. But. Then you stop to consider what you have been through until now. Nightmare after nightmare; this vicious cycle does not look like it will be broken. One thing or another will haunt you and hunt you wherever you go. You don’t want that life for Rose.

You won’t accept that life for Rose.

“…we will stay. But you can forget that part about me growing any fonder of you than I am now.”

Miranda nods, but something in her expression is so damn cocky you want to smack her. “Oh, what’s that, Rose? You can tell your mother is lying, too? My genius girl.”

Your jaw drops. She is my genius girl!

Miranda then touches your chin and tilts it up. You don’t want to be any closer to the gorgeous fucking witch, but when she stops there, hovering just over your mouth for a skipped heartbeat, looking down at you with those crystalline eyes of hers, you’re paralyzed.

Her lips slide over your own for just one slick, hot second. When she pulls back, she caresses Rose’s cheek and winks at you.

“I hate you.” you say, yet it holds no real bite. God, you’re exhausted.

“That’s alright. We have all the time in the world to change that.”

[yoonpobs]

hello 😊

may I request a drabble with jungkook and seokjin and reader with some angst and a bit of smut.. seokjin is her boyfriend and jungkook is jin's best friend and also a close friend of hers his also in love with her and he doesn't hid the fact that he has feelings for her so when y/n and seokjin get into a fight he seeing it as an opportunity to finally see if she wants to be with him

I hope that makes sense

thank you ❤️

pairing: fwb!seokjin x oc, roommate!jungkook x oc

genre: smut, angst

warnings: toxic/unhealthy fwb relationships, jin is a douche, jk is mean, oc needs a break

words: 2, 775

note: WHY DO I ALWAYS GIVE MY OCS A HARD TIME IM SORRY & i took a bit of a turn w this request so i apologise for any inaccuracies 😢

There is a way that Seokjin treats you in bed that makes you feel whole yet like you’re losing bits and pieces of yourself to him every time. He’s never selfish—God no. He was generous to you, much more generous than real lovers you had in the past that you shared kisses that were full of passion between the sheets. The passion you felt with Seokjin was undeniable and almost painful. You hated the word almost, it was like wasted potential on a possibility that could’ve come true but fell too short to be real. And every time you thought of that word you thought of Seokjin.

He was there. He always was. That was the conflicting part. Between always and almost, he was always with you but never almost in love with you the way you were with him. It was pathetic, really. How a woman held such high regard for turned into someone unrecognisable between the sheets and a few kisses from a man who didn’t even love her back. You swore to yourself you’d never let this happen. But here it was—happening.

He fucks into you at a brutal pace that could almost cloud your stressful thoughts. He never misses, his hips angled upwards to hit you in places that only lovers should feel. You moan, scream and cry—for reasons more than how good he makes you feel.

“Ffffffuck, J-Jin!” Your head is pressed against the mattress but you can still see your delirious expression through the mirror in front of your bed. He looks angelic with the way his forehead scrunches in utmost concentration in making you feel good, but the way he snaps his hips harder into your own was demonic. He usually left bruises and it felt nice to have the remainder of what he did to you—but stung at the same time with the way that he marked you as if you were his.

You weren’t.

“Like that, angel?” He leans down to whisper against your cheek and all you can muster is the blubber of a response.

The grip on your hips is rough, but you like it that way. He slips a hand in between your spread legs and rubs your clit in figure-eights that has you whining at a decibel louder than the ones before. Jin notices this and starts fucking into you faster if that was even humanely possible.

“Look at you—so fucked out. You’re mine to ruin, right?”  He taunts you, dragging a hand up your body with the wetness as the answer to his question. He tugs on your chin to direct your face to look at your reflection clearly, and you see your lips swollen, eyes blown out and hair tousled.

“Y-Yes—fuck—yours, J-Jin!” You’re panting, and you feel your coil unravel at a rapid pace, and Jin groans from behind you when he feels your cunt spasm around his cock ferociously.

“If you’re mine then don’t cum just yet,” He sounds too collected for a man who’s been fucking his cock deep into you for the past hour, but you could never read Seokjin. Even when you had his dick all the way down your throat, the most you’d get is a groan—and that was more than you could ever muster up from him.

“Jin—Jin—p-ple-please! I need to—ah—cum—!” Your words were cut short when he reached his hand around your throat to squeeze it softly. But you moan louder, and your pussy responds by getting tighter around his cock.

He chuckles in a low timbre from behind you, hips slightly stuttering—and you know this is a sign of his release coming soon—and you push your hips back to meet his pace, causing him to hiss at the sudden action.

Jin stares at you from the mirror for the night, and you release he always has a similar expression when he’s approaching his high. Something cold, detached yet melancholic. You could never read him enough, because by the time you think you’ve got an answer—he demands.

“Cum.”

And you do. Hard. Spots of white taint your vision like an angel trying to cleanse you from your sins. But the way you blackout for a second shows you no mercy and reminds you that Jin was the devil and you were his plaything.

“Ffffffff—” You can barely breathe. But it’s a pleasurable feeling—the only thing suffocating is the aftermath. When he leaves, barely sparing you another glance.

And you feel him cum with you, deep spurts of white painting your pussy as you feel full of him. Like he’s here to stay. He pushes you back onto him and revels in your limp body. You allow him.

When he pulls out, you’re exhausted. And you can tell he is, too. He’s heaving, and he helps you onto your back by placing a pillow under your back and head. He’s caring, but only out of decency, not commitment. You’re tired too, but it’s the type of tired that settles into your bones. The tired you only feel after sex with Seokjin because you know you’re sleeping alone.

He’s meticulous and quick, just like he always is. It’s the same routine that you’re unfortunately intimate with. He searches for his pants, slips on his shirt and grabs his keys and wallet. They’re always on your desk; never anywhere else because that implies that the routine was breaking. Jin would never break that—not with you, at least.

“Won’t you stay?”

Your voice is soft as it breaks through the atmosphere. You seem to catch him off guard for a moment but he’s tedious at not showing anything more than he needs to. He casts you a glance over his shoulders and you feel oddly vulnerable with your naked body, a blanket draped over your curves in a way that should be enticing. But you knew it wasn’t—because he only wanted you in the heat of the moment and every second after that is a reminder of who you were.

“Since when did we do that?” He snorts, quickly carding a hand through his hair while he checks his appearance.

And as always, he looks kept together while you were left ruined at the expense of his hands.

“We don’t,” you say softly, “I just thought …” your voice wavers when he raises a brow at you, causing you to hesitate in your words but you’re oddly determined today. Maybe you’re tired of the heartache, “It’s late.”

He looks at you for a long second before rolling his eyes and stalking you. Your heart clenches in expectation, but all Jin does is reach a hand around your chin when he leans down to bring your face inches away from his. Your eyes are hopeful when you look into his. The gentle orbs that peer back could fool anyone into thinking that he was tender and loving—but you’ve never seen that side of him. You only saw him when he was overtaken by desire, hard and tall when he fucks into you like a rag doll while he smirks at your slacked body.

“That’s cute,” he grins widely as your breath hitches, “But that’s not what we do, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment is anything but endearing. It’s mocking and it hurts.

“I …” You croak.

Then he releases you, finger lightly pushing your chin so that you’d fall back onto your palms. He checks his phone with a casual grin, likely being called over to another party—or anywhere else that wasn’t your home. Your heart shatters all over again, but you’re used to it. The glass that scrapes your skin is stained with blood but you’re a sucker for the pain.

“I’ll call you,” is all that he leaves you with before he’s helping himself out of your room, leaving the door open in his way. He doesn’t care for formalities, not even when you see him bump into your roommate on the way out. He gives a wave of acknowledgement, but nothing else—because who would introduce their fuck-buddy to their roommate?

But Jungkook knew. Of course, he did. You weren’t subtly because you hoped if someone knew then it’d be a little more real for you to hold onto. That ugly seedling of hope that blooms in your chest every time Jungkook would catch a glimpse of Jin leaving your room makes you wonder what it’d feel like if you could have him over for dinners, for movie nights—for it all.

But you can only do that; wonder.

The door creaks ever so slightly and only do you realise that the tears return. You automatically know who it is, because it’s the same routine. It’s the same song that you hear each time he comes over and it’s on an unhealthy loop of replays when you feel your bed dip.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” Jungkook whispers.

You don’t care that you’re bare. Jungkook’s seen you in worse states. Drunk off your mind, on the verge of collapse when you’d hope the alcohol would take the pain away. He’s a good roommate—but he really needs to mind his own business.

“Stop.”

“He’s a fucking asshole,” he sneers, grabbing your arm so that you’d look at him.

He hates that your eyes are red, and he hates that the bruises on your neck and chest match. The room smells heady of sex, and Jungkook has to endure the same pain you feel but tenfold when he watches your lips wobble the longer he stares.

“I love him, Jungkook.” You sob, leaning into his chest when he sighs for the umpteenth time, hearing the same thing leave your lips. It never got easier.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Jungkook spits, the thought of Jin returning only making his fists ball tighter when they rest around your bare shoulders, “Stop this. Stop going back to him.”

“Why doesn’t he want me?” You cry, hot tears wetting the fabric of Jungkook’s shirt.

“Why do you want him?” Jungkook returns, voice raising when he pulls back.

His eyes are blazing, the anger in his chest is only exponentially increasing the more he sees you heave. The tears that leave your eyes makes his heart clench and makes him want to chase that son of a bitch down and make sure he’d never see you again. But Jungkook finds himself staying still because you were here. In his arms—even if it you weren’t his.

But he’s still angry, and his mouth runs hotter than ever.

“Why do you keep doing this to yourself, huh?” Jungkook grabs your shoulders, forcing you to stare at him with swollen eyes, “You know he’s just using you! All he does is fuck you and leave. He doesn’t love you—and he will never love you so stop doing this to yourself and leave him before you continue hurting yourself like this!”

“Fuck you,” you spit through the tears.

“Because I’m telling you the truth?” He sneers, “Because I’m telling you things that you already know but are too damn scared to do?”

“Shut the fuck up, Jungkook!” You scream, pushing at his chest. But he grabs your wrist and levels you with a menacing stare while his own chest rises and falls with every breath of air he takes.

Your anger is muffled by your tears, and it’s a mixture of pain and rage when you peer at him. Jungkook’s so tired. He’s tired of feeling this way—of seeing you destroy yourself when you deserved more than anything anyone could ever offer.

“No,” Jungkook deadpans, “You’re going to listen to me and you’re doing this now.”

“I’m not doing anything! So let—me—go—!” You thrash in his hold, but Jungkook only tightens his grip around your wrists in a warning.

“Delete his number.”

“I can’t do that,” you say weakly.

“You can and you fucking will,” Jungkook says vehemently.

And as a point, he reaches for your phone that rests on your nightstand; and before you can process what he’s doing—he’s thumbing through your contacts and hovering over the one person you always seem to go back to.

“Jungkook, no—!”

But the damage is done, and Jungkook presses delete. For some reason, you feel absolutely nothing. But you’re angry, you’re angry because Jungkook’s always the person you see when it hurts the most and even through his words—all you want to do is scream.

“I hate you so much!” You scream.

Jungkook chuckles, dark and humourless as he runs his fingers through his hair. He stares to the side, jaw clenching in annoyance when you continue to cry and sob. He wanted to tell you to shut up—to stop crying over someone who’s probably already fucking the next breathing thing in his direction. But he doesn’t, because Jungkook’s impulsive. More so than he’d like.

“Yeah?” Jungkook scoffs, “You hate me? The person who’s trying his best to protect you?”

“You’re not protecting me!” You snap.

He ignores your indignant tone before levelling you with a blank stare that intimidates you more than you’ve ever been of Jungkook. He’s fuming, but it’s a calm before the storm that rattles your heartbeat against your chest. He looks livid.

“You hate me and love that fucking idiot?” He snarls, inching closer as you back away.

The growl in Jungkook’s chest is unheard of because more often than not he was level-headed. An annoying prick but calm and collected at most. This is the first time you’ve seen Jungkook look anything less than composed—and it was because of you.

“I can’t—I can’t control my feelings,” you say sourly.

He snorts, fully sarcastic and intentionally mocking when he looks at you with a hooded gaze.

“Isn’t that the fucking truth.”

“What the hell are you saying,” you narrow your eyes at him.

Oddly, you’re having this conversation when your tits are out—and only then do you consciously wrap your arms around your chest. His eyes immediately dart down to your subtle action and he rolls his eyes. You want to cuss him out, but Jungkook laughs. He laughs as if there was something funny—and you’re left even more confused.

“I’m saying that I fucking hate you,” he spits, face inching immensely closer as your eyes widen at his venomous tone.

“What—?”

“I hate you so much because you’re acting like an idiot chasing after someone who doesn’t give two shits about you.”

Your eyes well up with more tears as his words of bullets ricochet off your ears and settling deep in your heart. The harsh reminder makes your lips wobble and shoulders shake, but Jungkook doesn’t care.

“I hate you because you do this to yourself when you deserve so much more than what that prick can offer,” Jungkook says vehemently, hand wrapping around your chin to force your face to look at him.

Even now, when your eyes are puffy and red-rimmed, you look devastatingly beautiful.

“I hate you because I’ve been here this entire time and all you do is look for him,” Jungkook says softly, but his tone is still harsh, a sharp breath that erupts in his chest as well as yours as your eyes widen.

“Jungkook—”

“I’ve been here,” he croaks, and when you look into his eyes only do you see the pain, “I hate you so much because all I can do is love you.”

Your eyes widen as you gape at him, and you’re taking seconds too long to respond but your brain is processing the turn in events. But when you realise what he says, Jungkook’s pulling away. His hands retract themselves as if he’s been burnt and you were the flame responsible for it.

“Jungkook, wait—” you reach out. You were so confused, but you didn’t like the fact that he was leaving too.

“Don’t,” his eyes flutter shut in defeat, lips pursed, “Don’t touch me right now.”

Your face crumbles as you tug the blanket around your body until you’re resting on your knees and searching for his face.

“Can we talk—?”

“No,” he glares at you, and somehow—the look he gives you is far more painful than every moment Jin has ever walked out on you. Jungkook delivers the final blow when he snatches his hand away from yours completely.

“Figure your shit out because I’m done.”

And like always, you were left alone in your room—with more to think about than ever.

[druigswhores]

you’re alive in my head

summary: in which natasha no longer had to live in a world without you, there you were in her arms once again. but why can’t she remember your life before westview?

content warning: natasha romanoff x fem!reader, set after endgame, angst, mentions of death, trauma, their relationship ending on a bad note, trust issues & previous steve x nat, there is some hints to homophobia in this chapter :/ (WANDAVISION SPOILERS!)

note: sorry this chapter was late!! it’s 3.3k words and i got my friend to spell check and edit it, ty ashy ily <33

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! (lmk if you want anymore content like this!)

‘моя любовь’ = ‘my love’ in russian <3

‘принцесса’ = ‘princess’ (i used google translate so idk how accurate it is

SERIES MASTERLIST

PART THREE COMING SOON

Death.

It's a complicated thing; A theory.

Nobody knows what happens to you after you die. Nobody knows what happens to your soul after you die. We make things up to make ourselves feel better, and convince ourselves that our deceased loved ones are watching over us, all the while convincing others that our loved ones are in a better place now.

But in reality, those are just dreams dying to be true.

Natasha didn't know if you were dead or alive. She just knew your body turned into particles of dust, your soul disappeared along with the rest of you. She didn't want to believe that you were truly gone, so she spoke to you.

She spoke to you, thinking you were listening to her; believing you were listening to her and that you were still around.

It was almost as if she was speaking to your ghost, the mere presence of you that remained with her, the piece of you that was a part of her. It felt wrong being in the compound without you, she felt as though she was trapped; trapped with the many reminders of how she failed you. The walls were suffocating her. Every time she thought about what had happened it felt as though the rooms were becoming smaller. The large 'A' plastered around the compound taunting her, reminding her of what they lost. Of what she lost.

So she had to get away.

Natasha found herself taking trips to the beach, the one the two of you adored oh so much. She'd walk along the sand, the harsh wind blowing against her face. The air smelled of salt, and she'd take a deep breath in with a smile. She'd reminisce all the times the two of you managed to get away from the compound, how effortlessly gorgeous you'd look with the breeze blowing through your hair, your laughter sounding like a melody that Natasha now longed to hear once more.

If she stood really still, she could, once more, feel the warmth of your fingers dragging against her skin, gently tracing shapes onto her body. Her heart would ache whenever she'd turn to the side, finding that nobody was beside her.

She had to get used to living in a world without you.

"моя любовь..." She sighed, fumbling with a stone she'd picked up, before swinging her arm and throwing it into the rippling water. The temperature was dropping. Christmas coming closer and closer every day. Natasha wrapped her coat tighter around her body, staring at the waves in front of her, observing the way they'd hit the shore before pulling back into the ocean. In the distance, she could see boats, and although they were far away, she noticed how the water carried them; the movement of the ocean pushing the boat into the direction of the wind. "No sailors.." Natasha realized, her eyes following a lifeguard boat making its way to the empty boats, likely checking for any survivors.

Yet another reminder of how the Avengers had failed.

It's only been a couple of months since the battle yet the traces of you continued to fade away. The sweater that was once yours now clung to Natasha's body as she made her way back home.

She'd do anything to bring you back. She'd do anything to have you in her arms again, complaining about something you'd undoubtedly forget hours later. She missed the way you'd never share your snacks with anyone but her. The feeling of warmth that would blossom inside her when your eyes met in a crowded room. All the times when your knee would brush against hers during a meeting. She missed the way it felt to lay next to you. She missed forgetting the world with you.

God, she missed you so much.

But there she was. In the same room as you, years later, preparing breakfast. Her hair was coiled and pinned up, keeping it in place. Her dress fit her perfectly, the skirt swaying with her movements as she elegantly makes her way across the kitchen floor. Her every movement seemed like a performance; like she was the performer and you were the audience, watching her in awe. She was captivating in every possible way, her enchanting voice pulling you in like a siren.

"Good morning, honey! I've been up all morning making us a delightful breakfast." Natasha greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, her performance almost seeming comical. "Nat... it's just peanut butter and jelly sandwiches." You pointed out, glancing over your shared kitchen, seeing the mess that was made. Somehow milk spilled all over the counters, dripping onto the ground, you immediately recognized the smell of burnt toast that hung in the air as you continued looking around.

"Peanut butter and jelly is your favourite, remember?" Natasha reminded you. Your eyes widened at the realization, thanking her. You helped her bring the food to the table, making a note to yourself to tidy up the kitchen before the dinner at Wanda and Vision's that the two of you were invited for.

But you couldn't recall Wanda telling you about the dinner?

"Are you okay, моя любовь?" She placed her hand above yours on the counter. The two of you sat in front of each other, your half-eaten breakfast resting between the two of you. "Of course, why wouldn't I be? I'm with my best girl." You smiled softly at her, and though your words said one thing, Natasha could easily recognise the distant look on your face as you stared off into space, lost in your own thoughts. "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours принцесса?" She teased, squeezing your hand gently.

"What time are we supposed to be at Wanda's?" You asked her, snapping yourself out of the trance you were in. Natasha hesitated, eyebrows furrowed as she watched your every move. Something was bothering you. "We're going to Wanda's in the evening моя любовь, she asked us a while back if we could help out before the others arrived, remember?" Natasha stated as the two of you brought your plates to the sink, beginning to tidy up.

"I'm not sure how much help you'll be sweetheart." You teased, pointing at the mess that was created due to Natasha making breakfast. She feigned hurt in response, "Oh принцесса, you're breaking my heart!" She made her way around you, passing you the cutlery as you rinsed the plates. You chuckled softly at her playful behaviour. "I think we should stick with me making us breakfast so our kitchen doesn't end up getting flooded, wouldn't you agree?" You chuckled, as you made your way around the kitchen, the two of you tidying up the mess Natasha had created.

"If only we were a robot," Natasha sighed, wrapping her arms around you from behind. You leaned back into her, embracing the warmth which radiated from her body, "or had powers." This was a position you were so very used to. "If only," she responded playfully. You turn your head back at the grinning redhead, as she leaned in for a kiss, her eyes fluttering shut as she felt your lips meet.

"You know," Natasha started, "we do have some time to spare-" you then cut her off.

"I like the way you think, sweetheart," You smiled softly, turning in her arms before making your way to your shared bedroom. Natasha followed closely behind.

The two of you were dolled up, looking your best.

Your dress ended just below your knees, the skirt extenuating your hips; it swayed with every movement you made. The short sleeves of the dress looked as though they were about to fall off your shoulders. Natasha's dress, however, was much more slim fitting and hugged her hips perfectly before flowing down, much like a waterfall, making it harder to look at anything else but her.

"Do you think Wanda will get mad at us for arriving a bit later than expected?" You asked nervously, fumbling with your fingers as the two of you made your way down the path that led to Wanda and Vision's home. Natasha shuffled around balancing the tray of pastries you'd prepared in one hand while using her free hand to rub your back gently, comforting you, "I'm sure she won't mind, моя любовь," she reassured you. As you near the house you could hear mumbling from the inside; you heard three or more different voices.

"Is that- is Vision singing?" You asked worriedly, glancing at Natasha who was mirroring your reaction. She knocked on the door, and the singing inside had abruptly stopped. "Oh, that must be our other guests," You heard Vision exclaim, "perfect timing!" You could hear his footsteps gradually get closer. The door swung open and Vision gave a nervous smile, glancing down at the tray of food Natasha was holding before letting out a sigh of relief. He hugged the both of you before welcoming you into his home. He introduced you to Mr. Hart, Visions boss, and Mrs. Hart, his wife.

"Oh hello," Mrs. Hart greeted, "no need to be so formal tonight honey." she smiled at you, pushing away the hand you had extended for her to shake. Instead, she pulled you into a tight hug which quite honestly surprised you. You awkwardly pat the older yet noteably shorter woman on the back before pulling away to quickly greet her husband. He glanced at you and Natasha in confusion, opening his mouth to say something before getting interrupted. "Oh here, let me take that, Natasha. You stay here and I'll go get a plate to put these on." You glanced at everyone in the room, offering them a smile before making your way to the kitchen, Vision stopped you before you got to the door, extending his arm out.

"Thank you," he leaned down to whisper to you. You squeezed his arm in response. You weren't used to seeing Vision in this form. He looked human. You rushed into the kitchen, startling Wanda, "I've figured you needed help." You smiled sheepishly at her, placing the tray down onto the counter, taking in all the chaos that was going on in the kitchen. It reminded you of this morning.

"Well, this isn't the first chaotic kitchen I've walked into today," you teased, reaching out for a plate before neatly plating the pastries onto it. Wanda laughed nervously in response, as she flicked through the recipe cards, searching for the right one. You walked back into the living room, placing the plate onto the coffee table prompting Vision to jump up out of his seat and offer Mr. and Mrs. Hart an appetizer. Looking to Natasha, you gave her a wink before swiftly turning around, your dress swaying with your movements as you made your way back into the kitchen, missing the frown forming on Mr. Hart's face.

"Oh, what was I supposed to do next?" Wanda began rambling, "what was the main course again?"

Making your way to the recipe cards floating in the air you attempted to help her find the card with the right recipe, steak. You could hear Vision playing a song on the ukulele while Natasha unwillingly sang alongside him.

"That's not it" You sighed, sifting through the cards, "is this one steak?"

"Steak," Wanda started, "Diane!" she accidentally yells. Her eyes widened as she realized what she'd done. She looks to you with a frown. You just barely heard Vision respond with a, "yes dear?"

"This is going terribly," Wanda frowned, leaning her head upon your shoulder. You chuckled, rubbing her back gently before pulling her away, forcing her to look at you, "Hey, you can do this, okay? You're not alone," you reassured her, attempting to raise her spirits. She sighed in relief, repeating to herself ", "I can do this, I can do this, I can do this..."

Vision barged into the kitchen unexpectedly, his nerves radiating through room. Wanda panics, accidentally using her powers to throw the lobsters out of the window.

"How can I be of assistance." Vision asks, mirroring Wanda's expression.

"Well," Wanda started, "the chicken is no longer a chicken and the lobsters just flew the coop, so the steak is the last man standing," she explains, making her way around the kitchen. You held the recipe card in your hand, skimming the instructions, "it says here you could cut down the prep time with a meat tenderiser." You recited, looking at the couple once more. "Excellent plan! Where's the tenderiser?" Vision questions, ready to help in the kitchen.

"I'm looking at him," Wanda began, holding her hand out to pass the tenderiser to Vision. You pull her hand back before Vision reaches out for it. "No. What you need to do, Vision, is go entertain your guests. Have faith in your wife and I, okay?" You pushed him out of the kitchen, before turning around and clapping your hands.

"So, where were we?" You asked, hopefully.

After a stressful couple of minutes, a brief visit from a woman with a pineapple, and Natasha almost spilling water on her dress; dinner was served.

Well technically, breakfast was served.

The six of you sat around the dining table, nervously looking around. Mr. and Mrs. Hart looked at the food in confusion, staring at the cooked bacon and eggs paired with the red wine and chocolate covered strawberries.

"Breakfast for dinner?" Mr, Hart began, with obvious judgement written all over his face. "How very-" "European." Mrs. Hart cut him off, smiling reassuringly at the two of you.

"European?" You muttered, glancing at Wanda in confusion, who then motioned her hand in a 'I'll tell you later' sort of way. "Oh, let's have a toast!" Vision began, raising his glass up. All of you followed suite as Vision continued.

"To my lovely and talented wife," he gloated, unable to take his eyes off her.

"And to our esteemed guests," Wanda added. You didn't miss the wink she threw at you and Natasha, causing the two of you to stifle your laughs. Everyone clinked their glasses together and dug into their food. It wasn't long after when the questioning began.

"So, where did you move from?" Mrs. Hart began, "what brought you here? How long have you been married? And why don't you have children yet?" She interrogated Wanda and Vision, and you glanced over at Natasha, hesitantly, who shrugged in response before continuing to eat her food. Her eyes then met Mr. Hart's, who's eyebrows were furrowed at the interaction, waiting for his wife to finish speaking so he could say something. You didn't notice Wanda struggling to answer the questions being thrown, while Vision looked at Wanda desperately waiting for an answer. It was almost as if the two of them didn't know themselves.

You also failed to notice Wanda zoning out of the conversation, staring off into the distance as Mrs. Hart continued pestering her for answers. "And what about the two of you, huh? You two roommates?" Mr. Hart questioned, noticing how closely seated you were next to Natasha.

"Something like that," Natasha responded, biting back the smirk that was fighting it's way onto her lips.

"Two lovely women such as yourselves shouldn't struggle to find a man. Why don't the two of you have husbands yet?" Mr. Hart asked, leaning forward. You felt the hair in your arms rise as you realised where the conversation was leading. Glancing at Natasha nervously, you noticed how her fingers were clenched around her cutlery.

"We just prefer each other's company," you stated simply, shoving a forkful of eggs into your mouth to distract yourself.

"What do you mean? Are you- that's unnatural!" He ranted. You ignored him, noticing that Wanda was still trying to answer questions about her and Visions marriage.

"Yes, yes, we were married in," Wanda paused, getting lost in her thoughts. Mr. Hart continued his rant to you and Natasha as You, Vision and Natasha glanced at Wanda nervously.

"You're both women! That's wrong!" Mr Hart argues.

"Well, what's your story?" Mrs. Hart questions Wanda.

Mr. Hart began shouting, slamming his fist onto the table as Mrs. Hart continued to grill Wanda for answers. Wanda snaps back into reality due to a sudden, unexpected noise. She turned to face Mr. Hart who began to choking. You stared at Natasha, frightened and unsure as of what to do in this situation.

"Oh, Arthur, stop it!" Mrs. Hart laughed. She repeated the words 'stop it' over and over again, her tone gradually becoming more panicked as her husband continued to choke. His hand rested on his throat. Vision stared at Mr. Hart in an unsure manner, his hands resting against the table almost as if the were pinned against it. You only just noticed how Mrs. Hart turned to Wanda as she continued repeating those same words.

"Stop it," she pleaded, her voice shaking as she looked at Wanda, who was staring at Mr. Hart in shock. Mr. Hart fell off his chair and onto the ground as he continued to choke. You wanted to rush over and help him but it felt as though your hands were bound to the table and you couldn't move your legs. You were only able to watch as the man continued to choke while his wife chuckled.

"Stop it."

"Stop it."

"Stop it."

"Vision, help him," Wanda demanded. Vision rushed out of his seat and next to Mr. Hart, phasing his hand through his throat and removing a whole chocolate covered strawberry.

When did Mr. Hart pick up the strawberry? You thought to yourself.

"Let me help you up," Vision offers, helping Mr. Hart back to his feet. The atmosphere in the room had immediately changed, going back to exactly how it was before. It was almost as if a switch had been flipped and everyone forgot what was happening.

"Would you look at the time!" Mr. Hart exclaimed making his way to the door as his wife followed behind him.

"Well," Wanda started, "are you both alright?" she questioned nervously, as she stood up. "Yes, we better be going. We had such a lovely time!" Mrs. Hart reassured. The couple left the house very abruptly, mentioning something about a promotion before exiting the front door.

"Oh, we must be going as well!" Natasha exclaims, pushing herself up out of her seat before saying goodbye to the two. She hugged them both before making her way out of the door. You hugged Vision and thanked him for having you over before making your way to Wanda.

"Tonight was wonderful, Wanda," you reassured, pulling her into a hug. You felt her shoulders slacken in your arms, sighing softly as she returned your embrace before pulling away from you, her arms resting on your shoulders.

"Thank you, thank you for everything."

As the two of you made your way home, you couldn't help but let Mr. Hart's words play on repeat in your mind. You could tell Natasha knew what was bugging you as she squeezed your hand gently. The two of you continued to hold hands as you made your way home.

"I know we can't get married," you started, as you stood in your living room, staring at the woman who made you feel most at home. She nodded, waiting for you to continue as she rested her hand against your cheek, allowing her thumb to gently stroke your face.

"But I just want you to know that I'm here for you. For better or for worse. I never want to be apart from you," you chuckled softly, staring at her in awe, allowing your eyes to glance at her lips before you looked back into her eyes.

"I know, моя любовь. And I'd do anything for you," Natasha began.

"Even die for you."

natasha romanoff taglist: @blackxwidowsxwife @severepeanutartisanhands @madamevirgo @starsvck @umsolikeblog @baddecisions-png @yourmcu

all works: @teenwonder @amourtentiaa @husherstan @peggycarter-steverogers

[unknownwriting]

ｓｕｍｍａｒｙ- request: prom hc

ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒ ｓ- Portgas D. Ace, Sabo, Monkey D. Luffy, Trafalgar Water D. Law

ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ- underage drinking, besides that none :)

ａ/ｎ- so like I’m still a junior so I have no idea what proms like but I mean I seen a very movies sooo...I hope you still enjoy 💕

Unedited

Portgas D. Ace

Definitely the flustered type but he’s so unbelievably sweet about everything.

The classic type tho, showing up to give your roses and meeting your parents. Embarrassing by everything your parents say.

Ace was so sweet that your parents eve joke about y’all getting married and all that. It’s safe to say that the both of y’all left the house redder than the tie Ace was wearing.

As soon as y’all drove off tho, you were in total control of the date. All that Ace knew was what Garp and the others told them, so the rest of the night was all up to you.

Ace looked hella awkward when It came to the party. Ace is all down for a good party but a formal one, so not his thing. So a lot of the night he was following your lead.

Obnoxious eating? Yes. Drinking a lot? Yup. Passing out afterwards and scarring the shit out of the others? Of course, it wouldn’t be a party without it!

Y’all would met up Sabo and his crew and just goofed around for the most part. Sabo joked about y’all being a couple and all that, y’all would sneak off the pull pranks on the teachers, piss of the love-dovey couple, then did it all again

When it came to dancing, you and some other girls would go dancing while Ace and the others watch from the outside. When the slow dance came on you bet your ass your dragging Ace out.

Very lazy slow dancing, your hands wrapped around his neck with your face buried in the crook of it, while Ace’s hands rested on your bottom. y’all would sway back and forwards just embracing each and enjoying the warmth. and then once the song was over, the 2 of y’all would end with a passionate kiss.

The night was a pretty simple night, Ace wasn’t to into the party so he didn’t want to do much. As long as he was with you, he doesn’t care. You didn’t want to stay the whole night either, you just wanted to make your appearance hang out with the others a bit then leave.

Once y’all leave, y’all send the rest of the night as Ace’s place. Watching movies, ruining yalls clothes, then passing out in some tangled position. The drinks, food, and sore muscles is a problem for the morning

Sabo

Prom king and queen hands down. It’s just a known fact. Going with this man means the nights gonna be almost perfect.

Y’all would be the couple that has matching outfits. Like your dress with match Sabo’s blue tie, stuff like that. He would also spoil you as much as he could too when it comes to getting ready, like he’ll pay for you to get your nails and hair done.

And when it comes to the night of the dance he’ll pick you up, give you flowers, talk with your family, take you out to dinner, then y’all will arrive at the yall walk hand in hand to the ball room. As if y’all were royalty. From there on out, y’all let whatever happens.

When y’all arrive, Sabo was quick to find Ace and his date. You know damn well your not gonna enjoy the party without him. You didn’t mind tho, whenever the 2 of them are together crazy stuff always happens.

Not only does Sabo buddy up with Ace most of the night, but Ace is a social guy, having ties with a lot of people. So y’all spend a lot of the time hanging out with other people. Of course Sabo’s not going anyways where without his date. So if your not going Sabo ain’t either.

Not much time is spent on the dance floor because y’all are always with some group of people goofing off and talking. But once the slow dance comes on the 2 of y’all are definitely gonna be floor dancing.

Similarly to Ace, y’all have a very lazy dance style. Your hands around his neck and his hands wrapped around your waist. A few words would be exchanged between y’all but besides that’s y’all just enjoy each other’s embrace.

Y’all do end up staying most of the night. The plan was to leave a little after the slow dance after y’all had finished talking to everyone. Y’all were gonna join Ace and his date do a double movie date at their house. But everyone insisted y’all stay

So y’all end up staying bc luckily enough this is when y’all are named prom king and queen, it’s was mostly sabo who won but everyone still voted you too bc let’s be honest y’all are still a perfect couple.

But after the crowning y’all basically said your thanks you and all that then snuck off with Ace and his date to crash at their place.

It was a very active night with you and sabo talking with everyone and then being named prom king and queen. And as always to end a very active night, the 2 of y’all cuddle in each other arms and just savor the embrace of each other.

Monkey D. Luffy

Very spontaneous with this one. You don’t even know your going with him until like 3 days before. And he didnt event bother to ask you, someone brought up the question in which Luffy answered, “Oh, I’m taking s/o.” Never once did you hear anything about it

But although you had 3 days to buy a dress and schedule hair and make up appointments, you went anyways. A party with Luffy and the Strawhats, no way your were gonna miss out on this.

Now Luffy’s not as romantic as his brothers but he’s knows that he at least has to take you out to dinner, he mostly heard that from Grap and the others. However Garp seemed to forget to see Luffy when. But you got into the car you thought he just simply forgot, but it wouldn’t till after dance would he take you.

The dance it’s was a whole experience. You wouldn’t expect any less tho. With the strawhats involved it always a party that either ends in 2 ways: 1- in disaster or 2- not a planned at all.

To start of with, somehow they were able to find the alcohol?? Which shouldn’t even be on the school grounds?? And they were already drinking it like no tomorrow. Zoro was on his 5th glass already and Nami was in a drinking contest

Brook took control of the Dj booth was just playing songs at random, ‘big green tracker’ by Jason aldean then ‘kiss me more’ by Doja cat, then some classical track

Usopp and Franky were doing god knows what. Something to do with the lightings or something. Making the dance floor much more like a club. Sanji was chancing off a group of girls around the floor, and then finally Robin and Chopper were just in the back enjoying the food

They were all over the place but it’s what makes them the life of the party. Even though they were all over the place and doing their out think, Luffy was jumping around everywhere too but he still knows that y’all are on a date, so where ever he goes you follow behind.

This prom is definitely going down in school history. There is no way that people won’t be talking about it. Anything to do with the Strawhats goes down in history.

Of course unlike the others, y’all end up partying all night long and then crashing at some restaurants Luffy promised he’d take you. Although it wasn’t much of a prom date, you still enjoyed the time you spent with the others. And Luffy made sure to keep you close to his side all night long.

Trafalgar Water D Law

Law was that one cool senior, who had like a cool car and all that. With that being said, you were his 1 year younger lover. So while he doesn’t go to school anymore, he was still your date to prom.

Practically the talk of the school when y’all arrive, not because y’all are still dating but mostly because you were able to keep up with someone like him. With Law being cool he was still kinda a jerk, so having you with him was a relief

So law may be a jerk but he’s is a romantic one at least. Like sabo, he picks you up and gives you a bunch of flowers, he not to social with your parents but they are still cool with him. Then take you out to dinner

At dinner you joke about how he just left high school and now he’s back and how awkward it would be to see his old teachers. Of course, he doesn’t care. Law was more curious to see how the night played out. His senior year he didn’t go to prom so it’s the first with you.

When y’all first get to the party, Law’s pretty much glued to your side. Not because he find it awkward and uncomfortable but he just doesn’t know anyways besides the teachers. So you take him around and introduce him to all your friends.

Whether you introduced a boy or girl, Law kept a hand on you the whole time, almost as a way of saying that your his. This is when you first realized just how intimidating Law is. He really does seem to only have a soft spot for you. So when it come to dancing, Law stood near the wall letting you enjoy the dance floor with your friends without him.

He made sure to scare of any boy who got to close tho, as he watched you with such an intense gaze. However once the slow dance come on that all changed. You dragged Law out to the dance floor where y’all were both surrounded by a bunch of other couples.

Surprisingly for how much Law doesn’t say he’s not a good dancer he was amazing when it came to the slow dance. He was such a passionate dancing too, but so much love in the dance. With y’all’s hands intertwined and his hands resting on your hip and yours on his shoulder, the 2 of y’all swayed back and forward.

However once the slower dance was over, y’all really had no other reason to stay. So you law and a few other friends snuck out and just crashed at some bar where y’all celebrated both prom and graduation that was coming up soon.

Although Law already graduated, he would never miss an opportunity to share a drink and few heated kisses between his tipsy lover.

[iwishicanbeagoodpianist]

the Wifilcon and the Winter Router

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC/Reader Summary: When Bucky learns that his neighbor has been stealing his wifi for months. Warnings: None A/N: I'm not a fanfic writer at all, this, like all my stories, are adaptations to fanfics. My original stories are not written in english, so this is also a translation. please do not repost my work

For an instant, Bucky thought that the knocking he was hearing was coming directly from his head, I mean, it wouldn't be the first time his mind played tricks on him, but he realized that the sound was actually coming, unluckily for him, from his apartment door. Oh no no no no no no no, I just got back from putting up with Sam for almost 6 full weeks, I don't need interaction with more people for now.

Bucky thought for a minute to ignore the sound, to wait for the person to give up and leave, anyway he didn't spend many days on this apartment, almost no one had seen him leave or enter the building and he had no contact with the neighbors, only with the lady on the 7th floor who once lost one of her cats, which ended up in Bucky's apartment, accidentally. Not that I found the cat in the alley and actually brought him to my apartment, it doesn't mean that I stole the cat, he was in the street by himself, I rescued him.

When the banging on the door stopped and Bucky thought he could breathe calmly again, a voice between altered and annoyed was heard all the way to the living room where he was sitting trying to overcome his third panic attack and fourth existential crisis of the day .

-"I know you're in there! I saw you coming in a few hours ago! I've been waiting for days for you to come back!"-

More out of instinct than anything else, Bucky pulled out the knife hidden in his right boot as he slowly backed away from the door. Do I really have a spy as a neighbor? Should I call Sam? Is he in danger too? Never mind now, you need an escape route Bucky, concentrate, third floor, window to the alley, 2 minutes max, the bike is parked far away, I'll have to run, but to where, rendezvous point, safe place, think....

- "for God's sake, open the door, I need you to pay for your fucking internet plan, I'm in the last season of my series and I need to know if Carolina died or not!"-

- "The internet?"- Between the andrenaline from escaping and the shock of not understanding what was happening Bucky spoke louder than an assassin, with over 60 years of experience, should have spoken. Oh, shoot.

-"Yes! Your wifi, I need it to finish watching my series"-

Whispering "wifi" to himself, Bucky tries to remember where he has heard that word before, this is what I get for never listening to Sam when he talks to me. But before he can continue his mental analysis of all the conversations with Sam about such stupid things as his favorite American Football team, the New Orleans Saints, that I remember, to how Antonio could possibly leave María on the last episode of the 6 o'clock telenovela of which Sam is a fan, his apparent "neighbor" spoke up again:

-"Jesus Christ, can you open the door? So we can resolve this like adults"-

Bucky resigned to the fact that he has given his position to the "enemy", walks to the door and opens it waiting for his death. Well at least if I die I won't have to listen to Sam again talking about Antonio and María. But on the other side of the door, there was a woman, who in her pajamas, very unthreatening but cute, was watching him as if he were a ghost but still with defiance in her eyes, in one breath she introduced herself and continued her speech about her complaint to Bucky:

-"As I was saying, I need you to pay for your internet"-

-"I'm sorry, but I'm not sure I understand what you mean"- mumbled Bucky.

- "Good Lord"- To Bucky's surprise his neighbor, pushes him and enters his home, well not so much a home home, more like the headquarters of his secret club, of which he is the president, vice president and only member, the point is that it is his place, where he can (and wants to be alone), as she lives here. This must be a dream, maybe I hit my head too hard in the last mission and I am unconscious in the hospital.

Crossing the room, Bucky's unwanted visitor looks around searching for something while whispering the words "I see you are quite minimalist, but maybe this is too much, someone urgently needs to look for some inspiration on Pinterest". She stops abruptly in front of the shelf where, in theory, a TV should go, while shouting: "EUREKA", she bends down and picks up a white device which has two antennas and like a million little blinking lights, damn, that looks like something out of a spaceship, I'm being watched by aliens? I'm being spied on by Kree?

-"This is your router, this is where the internet signal comes from, which I need you to pay for so I can finish watching my series"-.

Bucky, still in shock for the third time in less than 15 minutes, as he processes the idea that perhaps Thanos' unknowing twin is spying on him for a second invasion of earth and revenge for his brother's death. He can only nod to his now more relaxed and happy neighbor.

-"Perfect, thanks! I need to check the food I left in the oven, I'll talk to you later"- and as quickly as she came she left through the same door, leaving Bucky with more doubts than answers, peeking down the hallway, he realizes that she is the neighbor who lives next door, to his right. When Bucky comes out of his initial stupor, still not fully understanding what is going on, he decides to take his cell phone out of his pocket and call his own personal Google to solve his doubts about this century: Sam Wilson.

-"Hey Buck! What's up?"-how does he always manage to sound so happy? focus Buck.

-"What the hell is a router and why do I have one in my house?"- somehow Bucky manages to formulate, although maybe his voice cracked a little on the last words.

-"That thing's been there for at least two months and you didn't even notice it? Have you even paid the bill?"-

-"You put this in here? Without telling me????"- maybe Sam is also a Kree? Who can I trust now? It's all a trap?

Listening to Bucky's accelerated breathing, Sam tries to explain to him slowly, that in this century life without internet is not life, but obviously as Bucky does not even know how to set the alarm on his own cell phone, he was in charge of buying the router and creating the contract with the company so that, the 106 year old man could have his personal network at home. He had given it the name but he had not given it a password so that Bucky himself could set it up later. "I am an excellent friend, I mean co-worker, if I may say so"

-"Sorry man, after all that happened, we got called for a mission and I forgot to tell you, do you have your laptop over there? I'll help you set up a password, so your neighbors won't steal your internet anymore"- and with that comment everything started to make sense in Bucky's slightly screwed up but functional mind about the events with his seemingly non-spy and harmless neighbor.

Meanwhile Bucky was trying to remember his own password to unlock the laptop in front of him, also courtesy of Sam. "Bucky, when you learn about online banking and that you can pay your rent, electricity, phone and everything with a click of your computer, you will thank me". It should be noted that Bucky hasn't used that laptop once, like a good 100 year old grandpa he goes to the bank to make his deposits and pay his debts, which obviously consisted only of electricity, water, gas and phone because the man had no idea that there was a device in his house that spit out internet, apparently only his next door neighbor knew this. Buck tells Sam how he thought his router was an alien device and how he thought his neighbor was a KGB agent coming to kill him. "Relax Buck we all have undesirable neighbors that steal our internet signal sometimes", well undesirable is not the word I would use to describe her but ok.

When Sam finally explains to him how to connect his computer to the internet, Bucky can finally see the name that his wonderful co-worker, not friend, because he could never be friends with someone so stupid as to think that the name "THE WIFILCON AND THE WINTER ROUTER" was a good name.

- "my god Sam, you're such an asshole!"-

-"HEY! That's a great name!"- Sam responds with as much indignation as possible, he's the best at naming everything from dogs to wifis.

- "I can't believe you're Captain America, I can't believe we're even friends"- Bucky really can't understand his luck to have friends, well, co-workers whatever.

- "Well excuse me but we're co-workers..."-

- "Well, take this call as my formal resignation, bye"-

-"Wait a minute Buck..."- Bucky ended the call, to finish -his self-imposed- punishment of listening to Sam Wilson talk for over an hour. At least I asked him how to use the bank's website to pay for the internet. Suddenly, without warning and without explanation, the memory of his neighbor is lodged in his head, her hair in a ponytail, her reading glasses, pink shorts, her sweater from some university of which he can't even remember the name because he was watching out for other things... that she wouldn't kill me obviously, he was watching out that she wouldn't pull a knife out of her back and kill me right there. The message on his laptop indicating that he can now set a new name and password to his wifi distracts him enough to stop thinking about his sweet and cute non-spy neighbor and how she would look with her hair down and her glasses off.

Still with the sweet feeling in his chest and the desire to see her again he writes as the new name of the wifi, while laughing:

"If you want free internet, you owe me at least one free dinner"

After paying the internet debt and closing the laptop, Bucky gets up hoping to find something edible in the kitchen, while leaning over to look inside his fridge and analyzing how bad it would be to eat a fried egg with pasta and sriracha, he hears again a knock on the door, but this time it does not cause Bucky the anguish and anxiety that caused him the first time, but quite the opposite.

-"Open the door Winter Router! I prepared chicken pot pie for dinner"-.

[issaxcharlie]

You’ll always be the answer

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Fem Reader

Requested: YES💚

Summary: For the first time Charlie and Y/N have to do an interview together and things get pretty interesting and chaotic as always with the couple.

*In the wired autocomplete section the part of the question that was covered will be in bold*

Pretty much based in the we say we’re friends world, (yes, again😤 I love their dynamic I’m sorry) you only need to know that Y/N is a musician by profession, wrote the JATP soundtrack, a childhood friend of Charlie and now his current girlfriend.

The couple is completely excited because today they have their first interviews after the confirmation of the second season of Julie and The Phantoms, and usually they are not on the same interview team so this is new. Charlie always does them with the band and the singer usually does them with director Kenny Ortega representing the people behind the scenes.

“Hello everyone, I’m Charlie Gillespie and I play Luke in Julie And The Phantoms.”

“And I’m Y/N Y/L and I play Daniela in Stardust.”

“Baby, you are here today as the songwriter of the album.”

“I know?” She thinks for a few seconds until she realizes what she said. “Oh. Well, this is embarrasing. Make my selfpromo accident worthwhile and watch Stardust after watching JATP!”

“Nice safe, beautiful. Pretty natural.” Her boyfriend teases as she smiles proudly.

“I like to believe I could be an actress.” Charlie begins to laugh at the seriousness with which she answered and looks at her, full of happiness. He loves that they can enjoy moments like this where their careers can go exactly on the same track.

They know that it will not always be this way so they should make the most of the experience.

“I’m excited to have you back, Y/N. And a pleasure to meet you Charlie. You both sure are full of amazing energy, I love it. Let’s start with the questions. Charlie, this is your first leading and in a fairly complete role, you acted, sang, danced and even wrote one of the songs, how was the experience?”

“Pure magic. They are all incredibly talented and so supportive of us, they worked so hard to unleash our full potential in an accelerated manner. They had a lot of patience with me in the dance part, they taught me to use my voice properly, they supported me in the change to electric guitar, it was simply a dream to work with every single person in the project.”

“Sounds amazing. Next question is for you, Y/N. Much has been said about the unreal chemistry between Julie and Luke. How was it for you as his girlfriend to have to witness it live? As I understand you were present throughout the recording."

"Oh man, it was awesome!" Charlie laughs at her pure response and the interviewer looks at her in disbelief.

"I'm Team Juke all the way. I know I may sound like a liar or something since I'm the girlfriend, but here's the thing.

I can't see my Char in Luke. Charlie is so good at bringing him to life that I can't believe that cool rockstar is my adorable goofball. It’s like Clark and Superman with the glasses thing. Beanie and electric guitar? Oh, hi Luke. You are so hot, wait... don’t tell Charlie I said that! Bandana and acoustic guitar? Hey baby, give me a kiss in the forehead and sing me to sleep.

What I was saying again? Oh, yeah. So... I see Juke and I’m soft, they are perfect for each other.”

“So you think Luke is hot, huh.” he pretends to be jealous and folds his arms.

“What can I say, I have a thing for rockstars, my legs melted during now or never."

He snorted a laugh. “Good to know.”

The interviewer cannot contain a laugh of her own.

"It's always a pleasure to have you here, Y/N. You are such a character and I always enjoy listening to you, and I love that even though the years go by and you are no longer so new in the industry you continue to have that fresh and iconic personality."

“Thank you so much Maria, If I can be myself here it is thanks to the beautiful atmosphere that your interviews always have.”

“My pleasure, ‘golden star’. Let’s continue. Y/N, We know you already knew Charlie, but who did you get along with better from the rest of the cast?”

“Oh my, definitely Owen. He was Charlie's roommate throughout the project so we hang out together a lot in our free time taking turns as third wheel. I'm pretty sure he's going to apply the same card to me this second season now that I'm gonna be the roommate.

But it’s okay, I totally deserve it. May the best third wheel win, Joyner!” Charlie grins and does a fistbump with his girlfriend who looks really hyped about going back to Canada with the band.

“I’m rooting for you, girl! Let’s go back to Charlie a little bit. The album that Y/N wrote is a resounding success and a very important piece for the series to be as brilliant as they are. I imagine that the four of you have a special affection for the album, but how do you feel that your girlfriend was the one who wrote a soundtrack of that level for such a special project in your career?”

Charlie looks so proud. He looks at her in a way that makes the young woman blush.

“I’m just so blessed that the things happened they way they did. She’s the love of my life, you know? I couldn't be more proud to sing her songs. She has always been insanely talented and nothing gives me more happiness that knowing she gets to do what she loves and is able to share it with the world.”

The singer's eyes water and she puts her head on the actor's shoulder, who kisses her hair sweetly.

“You two are so pure and so cute to watch, I have a new favorite celebrity couple.”

They continue the interview for a few more minutes and then they have to move on to the second section, in which they are handed some boards with the most searched questions on the internet regarding them.

“Okay guys, introduce yourselves again. I’m not going to be in the segment this time so you’ll have to help each other.”

Both agree without confessing that they have seen videos of this segment until 5 in the morning when they have nothing to do the next day and have sleepovers.

“Hi, we are Charlie Gillespie and Y/N Y/L and will be doing the wired-autocomplete interview today!”

“Okay handsome, let’s start with yours.” Charlie smiles and takes the sign in his hands, while his girlfriend removes the first tape and reveals the first question.

“Does Charlie Gillespie have a girlfriend?” Charlie smiles proudly and kisses his girls nose.

“I do, and she’s so adorable.” He touches gently her cheek and she closes her eyes at his touch.

He gives her a light kiss in the forehead and then uncovers the next question.

“What is Charlie Gillespie like in real life.”

“I’ll answer this one, Char’s a total goofball. He is cheerful, funny, always full of energy, talented, caring, and really, really hot. All done, next question!”

He laughs while blushing and reveals the next one. “Is Charlie Gillespie married?”

“Well I tried but someone ate the ring.”

“I would do it again, it was really good. Answering the question, he is not yet, but he is taking too long, maybe one of these days I will declare myself.”

He opens his eyes wide, he knows very well that his girlfriend is capable of doing it, and honestly he wants to be who does it, so he makes a mental note to prepare everything soon. Thank god he is working on the rings already.

“It’s Y/N still dating...”

“If the question says Ross Lynch I’m goin’ to lose it. No shade though, man.”

She laughs, after the James Larkin show, a lot of people showed anger as they felt that she was a much better match with the blonde, and Charlie couldn't help but feel a bit offended.

“...Charlie Gillespie! Yes, baby!” Both high five, Charlie looks almost relieved, is adorable.

“The answer is always yes folks, get use to it.”

“Who is Y/N’s best friend?”

“Well, this one is easy.” She turns to see Charlie and gives him a flirtatious little smile. He blushes and reaches out to kiss her, but she answers the question just before their lips touch.

“Ross Lynch.” She leans over and presses her lips against his for a few seconds as Charlie reacts to her response and then gapes in disbelief.

“You did nOT.” He laughs and and wrinkles his nose feigning annoyance.

“Yes I dID. But to be honest, has to be this man right here. Not a lot people know this but we’ve been best friends all our lives, so yeah. You baby, of course.” He blushes and kisses her hand, clearly happy with the answer.

“Is Y/N going to be in Julie And The Phantoms S2?”

“Will you?” He asks, genuinely curious. She never tells him what Kenny secretly confesses her about the project so as not to be unfair to the other members of the band.

“I will, but probably still back the scenes, guys. I'm really enjoying this part and learning from the best of the best so I am very happy not to be in front of the camera for now.”

“And you are doing an amazing work, love.” She grins and kisses his cheek.

“Thank you for watching us being ridiculously corny for 30 minutes, don't forget to watch Julie and the Phantoms Season 2 only on Netflix! I feel sorry for that poor people that will have to see how cheesy we are.”

“We were still recording Y/N, but never mind. The editing team has a lot of work ahead.”

“Well, damn. I’m sorry guys!” Charlie laughs for the thousandth time today. There is nothing better in life than sharing your days with your best friend. He can't wait to formalize that ‘forever’.

Thank you for reading✨

NEXT PART HERE

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

[petersasteria]

drivers license - Tom Holland

Pairing: Tom x Singer!Reader Requested? Nah 3,561 words

I was going to write this when the song came out, but as you observed, i wasn't writing bc i wasn't happy anymore. but here it is. enjoy.

Tom || Main || Taglist

* * * *

“I want you to meet my friend. She’s super nice and stuff. Maybe she could sing the soundtrack of one of my short films!” Harry said happily. “Anyway, she’s an amazing singer and she’s inviting me to the recording studio tomorrow. Want to come?”

Harry looked at Tom and waited for his response. The eldest Holland brother opened his mouth to say something, but Sam entered the room and interrupted. “Y/N’s my friend first, you know. I introduced her to YOU.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Besides, I suggested for her to invite you guys. Thank me later.”

“Thank you.” Harry mocked. “So, will you come with me-”

“Us.” Sam corrected. “Will you come with US tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll come so both of you can shut up.” Tom laughed before scrolling through his phone again.

Tomorrow came and the three Hollands went to the recording studio where you were currently at. When they got there, you were in the booth recording your song which will be on your first EP. You were just starting in the music industry and you were still testing the waters and finding your sound.

The three men sat down on the couch and listened to you. It was safe to say that Tom immediately fell in love with your voice and he made a mental note to compliment your voice for when you’re done recording. After recording two songs, you were finally taking your break. As soon as you stepped out of the recording booth, Sam ran up to you and engulfed you in a tight hug.

“I missed you! You sounded amazing!” Sam said giddily. He was really happy and really proud of you.

“Thank you!” You said gratefully with a huge smile on your face. Sam was your first ever friend and he was your first audience. Needless to say, his opinions matter to you the most. He was more supportive than your family will ever be.

“I can’t believe my Christine will be doing great things on her own now.” Sam pouted. He called you ‘Christine’ and you earned that nickname because of Phantom of the Opera. You were his Christine and he was your Phantom. It was perfect.

“But I’ll always stay the same, Sam.” You said in pure honesty. You looked over his shoulder and saw two of his brothers.

“Hi, Harry!” You waved, recognizing his curly hair despite only meeting him five times. Harry waved back and that left Tom. He stood up and walked towards you and Sam to formally introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m Tom; Sam’s older brother.” He smiled sweetly. He offered his hand for you to shake and you gladly took it and gave it a firm shake.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” You smiled before letting go of his hand.

“Your voice is just wow! You have a gift.” Tom complimented which made you shy. “Thank you.” You said sheepishly.

Sam cleared his throat, “So, lunch?”

The four of you had lunch at a small chicken wing restaurant. It was cheap, hidden, and there were only five other customers which was great. You talked about so many things and eventually, Tom asked about your friendship with Sam.

“Wait, how did you and Sam meet?” Tom asked, taking a bite of his chicken wing. You took a sip of your drink and swallowed your food before answering.

“I was homeschooled my whole life and when I told my mum that I wanted to enroll in a random course just to know what it feels like to have classmates, she enrolled me in a culinary course. Let’s just say that I’m surprised that I passed!” You and Sam laughed as you thought about the shit both of you did.

“We sat next to each other and we were cooking partners. She was so awkward!” Sam laughed, wiping a tear that escaped from his eye. “But I’m glad she was put in the seat next to me because if not, I wouldn’t have gotten to know her. I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Same.” You nodded in agreement. “Sam’s my best friend in the whole world and I honestly wouldn’t know what to do without him. He’s my rock.”

Sam turned his head to look at you and smiled, “Same.”

“Ugh, just date already!” Harry said with his mouth full. He even rolled his eyes in the process.

“Ugh, just swallow already!” Sam mocked.

“That’s what she said.” You giggled. The table erupted with laughter and you were happy that you got to meet new people, thanks to Sam.

“I meant his food!” Sam breathed.

“It sounded wrong, though.” Tom chuckled.

“Very.” Harry said with a playful look on his face.

After lunch, Sam told you that they had to go home already. You were visibly upset because you haven’t seen your best friend in such a long time and you had so much fun with his brothers. It’s true what they say; time flies by when you’re having fun.

“I’ll call you tonight.” You told Sam. He nodded and said, “I shall wait for your call, then.” You hugged him and hugged Harry right after.

“It was nice seeing you again, Y/N!” Harry exclaimed before pulling away from the hug. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, already excited for your next meeting. You turned to hug Tom and not only did he hug you, but he also kissed your cheek which surprised you, Sam and Harry.

“I’d love to hang out with you again.” Tom said after hugging you. “But without these two divs.” He added earning a slap on the arm from each boy.

You quickly glanced at Sam and he just nodded for you to go. With that go signal, you turned to Tom and said, “Okay! I’ll give you my number and just text me later.”

Tom ended up texting you that night and he asked you out on a date. One date turned into two and two dates turned into three until both of you went on so many dates now. Despite the four year age gap, you two seemed to click. You didn’t have a label yet, though.

It all changed one night.

It was midnight and Tom decided that it’ll be fun to go on a spontaneous road trip. He picked you up and now you were on the road going God knows where. It was random, but it was really fun. Your parents were out of town, so you were confident in going with Tom on his road trip.

Both of your windows were down and you put your hand out to feel the wind. It was a great feeling. Tom was looking at you from time to time and he was smiling to himself. He stopped at a red light and you brought your hand back in again despite the fact that there were no cars around.

“I have a question.” Tom said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asked before driving again as the light turned green. You were surprised with his question and even more so when he started driving again.

Tom looked at you and saw your shocked face before turning to look at the road again. “I mean, you don’t have to answer now. Like, take your time. I just asked because I really li-”

“Yes.” You finally answered after being silent. He stepped on the brakes in shock and said, “What?”

“Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.” You grinned. He chuckled and shook his head in disbelief, “Wow. The most amazing girl in the world is finally my girlfriend. It’s a great day already.”

That day was the start of a new chapter for both of you. Sam and Harry knew it would happen eventually. Harry was really happy, but Sam felt as though he was in between something; he was torn in between something. Little did he know, his hunch was right and he’ll soon find out why.

Tom was a great boyfriend. He made sure to think about your feelings before doing or saying anything, he made sure to include you on things because he knew you didn’t want to feel left out, he made sure to give you space when you would write songs, he picks you up all the time because you don’t know how to drive yet, but he didn’t mind; he loved it. Tom always told you that he loved you, he would send you memes that he knew would make your day, he tells you cheesy pick up lines and he would tell you jokes that catered to your humor which you greatly appreciated. In your eyes, he was perfect; he was your home.

For you, Tom was the one. He was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with and he told you the same thing. He said that when the time was right, he would propose and both of you would get married and he would give you the family you always wanted because your family didn’t really care about you and he hated that. You deserved the world and he promised you that both of you would have a family that’s so much different than yours.

Speaking of family, the Hollands loved you. They became your family. You and Nikki would have tea together and just gossip about things. You and Dom would joke around and Paddy would always challenge you in football. Harry just loved your presence and it came to a point where you would be his model whenever he wanted to take pictures. Tom would always whine and ask why Harry never asked him and Harry would say, “You’re the least interesting to look at.”

“Excuse me, what?!” Tom replied, pretending to be hurt. He knew Harry was just joking and quoting Kim Kardashian. “I’m the most handsome guy here.”

“Okay, Shrek.” Harry shrugged and continued taking your pictures.

Regardless of the sinking feeling that he felt, Sam was still happy that you found happiness in dating his brother. He did give you a go signal, after all.

Of course, all good things come to an end. In this case, your end came after dating for two years.

Tom was away filming for yet another movie and something in your gut told you that something was extremely wrong. You weren’t the jealous type, but every time you would FaceTime Tom, everything was off. The vibe was different and you didn’t like it.

The bad feelings you have solidified when it was revealed that Tom was starring in a film with a blonde girl who was the same age as him and she was gorgeous. You always felt that Tom might leave you for her and when you told Tom that, he assured you that nothing was going on and that you were crazy for even thinking about it.

It got to a point where both of you would always argue because of it. It got to a point where both of you avoided each other for a few days until Tom got back. He was outside your house and he texted for you to come and meet him by his car. You did and you didn’t know what to say. It was your first relationship after all.

Tom looked at you with his hands in his pockets, “I don’t think we should go on anymore.”

“What?” You asked, confused.

“We’re done, Y/N. It’s just not working anymore.” Tom explained. “You don’t trust me and we’re always fighting.”

“Wait, we’re not going to talk about this?” You asked him. He just shook his head. “So you’re willing to throw two years down the drain?”

“It’s just two years, Y/N. Get a grip, it’s not a divorce.” Tom huffed. “I have to go.” With that, he got in his car and drove away, leaving you standing there confused and hurt and feeling different kinds of emotions.

You figured that everything was just a nightmare and that when you wake up the next day, everything’s fine. Of course, you were wrong. When you woke up the next day, Tom blocked your number and on social media and it broke your heart. Then when you went on Twitter, Tom Holland was trending because apparently, he’s dating the blonde girl he told you not to worry about. You were still in denial, but when you called Sam, he just told you not to bother his brother.

“It’s true, isn’t it? He left me for her.” You said with a hoarse voice. Sam was silent on the other line. You could only hear his breathing. “Hello?” You called out.

“Y/N, I have to go.” Sam said softly.

You bitterly chuckled, “I lost him and now, I lost you. This is fun.”

“It’s not like that. I just don’t want to get in the middle of-”

“It’s okay, I get it. He’s your brother. Don’t be sorry or anything. Thanks for the years of friendship, Sam. I’ll forever treasure it. Thank you, truly.” You said before hanging up, not waiting for him to respond. Unbeknownst to you, Sam was extremely hurt for being part of the reason why you’re hurting. He removed the phone from his ear and looked at it. Tom cleared his throat causing Sam to look at him.

“Was that Y/N?” Tom asked. Sam nodded. “What did she say? What did you tell her?” Tom asked again.

“I told her not to bother you and just like that, our friendship is over. So, I hope you’re happy.” Sam frowned as tears clouded his vision.

Tom scoffed, “You don’t need her. You have so many friends. Plus, you have me. Anyway, get dressed. We’re going to the pub.” Tom left Sam’s room. Sam sighed and wiped his tears. He felt terrible.

As for you, in the span of twenty-four hours, you lost your best friend and the man you loved most in the whole world.

You’re currently crying tears of joy because your new song played on the radio and it’s your first time hearing it. Your whole team was really proud of you and they were your new friends and family now. Ever since your break up with Tom, they were there for you. They helped you get back on your feet until you were ready to write another song.

The said song is now playing on the radio and is being streamed by millions.

“Congrats, Y/N!” Your manager, Anya, said. “We’re all so proud of you!”

“Thank you.” You sniffed and wiped your tears.

Your song received good reviews and it’s included in Billboard’s Top 100. Every talk show host wanted you on their show for you to perform your hit single. Everyone wanted to talk to you about the song. Anya made it all happen. You were booked left and right and all the blessings were just coming in. You were extremely happy.

On the other hand, Tom knew the song was about him and it annoyed him because everywhere he went, your song was playing. Even Sam plays it a lot. It was clear that Sam missed you, but he made his bed and he has to lay in it.

“Guess what.” Harry said.

“What?” Tom asked.

“Y/N’s nominated for an award and she’s going to the award show you’re going to.” Harry announced which made Tom groan. “Also, people somehow figured out that the song is about you and now they’re assuming things and they want to know the story, especially your side.” Harry added.

“Easy.” Sam piped up. “Just tell them you left her for another girl and you dated the said girl right after you broke up with Y/N.”

“Shut up, Sam.” Tom hissed. Sam looked at Tom with a blank expression and said, “You don’t have the right to be angry after what you did to her.”

“Why are you defending her now? Why not a few months ago when it was still fresh?” Tom retorted.

“Because I didn’t want to get in the middle of your mess and I still care about her. Unlike you, I can’t just throw years of friendship away.” Sam said before leaving the living room.

“Yikes.” Harry said after Sam left. “Anyway, you have to act like it doesn’t bother you, so it’s not an issue.”

The day of the awards show finally came and you were nervous. It was your first time performing for an extremely huge audience and it made you anxious. The red carpet was all a blur and at one point you saw Sam and both of you made eye contact. You gave him a tight-lipped smile and he did the same. What he did still hurts you, but you wanted to let go of that part of your life now.

When it was your time to perform, your phone buzzed and a notification from a number appeared. You have deleted Sam’s contact number, but you memorized his number in case of emergencies.

“Good luck on your performance, my Christine. I’m proud of you.” He wrote.

You smiled a bit before locking your phone and giving it to your manager. Somehow, it was comforting to know that Sam still had your number and that he was still supporting you despite what happened. You walked on stage and began singing your heart out. The crowd loved it and it made you happy.

“She’s so good!” Sam exclaimed as he clapped for you.

“Please, she sounds like the other artists here. She’s not special.” Tom said as he plastered a fake smile on his face. Harry scoffed and said, “Yeah, right. You fell in love with her voice the first time you met her. Don’t lie.”

Tom never responded to that and kept his mouth shut.

An hour later, the category you were nominated for was up and it made you nervous. You believed you weren’t going to win because the other nominees were well known singers. But for some miracle, you won and the camera panned to Tom to see his reaction.

He wore a fake smile as he clapped. It was awkward. It was even more awkward when you walked past him and Sam stood up to grab your hand to say a quick ‘congrats’ which you thanked him for before walking to the stage to accept your first award ever.

“Wow, I can’t believe this. I want to thank my whole team for being so supportive and patient with me!” You smiled as you accepted the award. “Thank you to the amazing fans for their undying love and support. I wouldn’t have done it without you guys.”

“Lastly, I want to thank the guy who inspired the song.” You said as the camera panned to Tom again. “You know who you are and without you, there would be no songs or albums or EPs. You were the soundtrack of my love life and I’m beginning to accept that you’re not that person anymore. Thank you for everything and I hope that with this song, I can finally let go and start fresh.”

“Thank you again!” You said before leaving the stage. The people clapped for you except for Tom who just sat there with an expression no one could read.

You never interacted with Tom or his family the whole night and somehow, you were grateful for that. You never got a text from Sam anymore, but you did get a text from Tom’s new number a few days later asking for you two to meet in the place where you went on the spontaneous road trip to God knows where.

You drove up there with your new car and when you arrived, Tom was already there waiting for you. You parked and got out of the car before walking towards him.

“Hello.” You said, breaking the silence.

“Hi.” He said. “I figured we need to talk for closure.”

“Ahh. Yes, please.” You nodded.

“I don’t know where to start.” Tom admitted.

“Maybe start with the reason why you just left me.” You said bluntly.

“I just didn’t feel the spark anymore, okay? I grew feelings for someone else and I wanted to do it right without cheating, so I broke up with you and-”

“And got together with her the next day.” You finished for him. “Amazing, Tom. Really.” He didn’t say anything else anymore and you nodded and took this as your cue to leave. But before that you called out to him. He turned to look at you and you said, “Just know that I never lacked in our relationship. I’m just sorry that I actually believed that you were the one for me and I’m sorry that I believed what you said. I wish you all the best, Thomas. I do. You’re a great actor and I know your own blessings are still coming in.”

“Thank you.” He said. “You’re a great singer.”

You gave him a small smile and got in your car and drove away. The drive back hits differently because you remembered laughing with Tom as if the road trip happened yesterday, but it didn’t. You shook off the thoughts with a chuckle and just kept driving. You were finally letting go to start a new chapter in your life.

* * * *

who wants to see the soc med of this?

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @blueleatherbag @cocoamoonmalfoy @thatforgottenangel @parkerpeter24 @turtoix @slutforsr @givebuckyhisplumsnow @buckys-little-hoe @runawayolives @chewymoustachio @hollandsrecs @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @yourstrulyamour @juliediggory @lharrietg @alexx-stancati @rumplebutterbaby @dummiesshort @spideyspeaches @thevelvetseries @buckymylove @quxxnxfhxll @marvelsimps @dreamy-clousds @bora-world @hunnybunimdun @supred12

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @holland-styles @trustfundparker @calltothewild @felicityparkers @hufflepuffprincess24 @tommysparker @justasmisunderstoodasloki @quaksonhehe @call-me-baby-gir1 @itstaskeen @theonly1outof-a-billion @lost-in-the-stars03 @justafangirlduh @piscesparker @speedymaximoff @miraclesoflove @lexirv @blairscott @getbywithasmile @pqrkerr @lavender-writer @blackbat2020 @hoodpankow

[justfangirlthingies]

Friend of a Friend (Dr. Laszlo Kreizler)

This is my first ever request! Thank you very much for sending this in @laurentrvn I hope you like it🥰

Request: would you do Laszlo x fem!reader

Reader was working on Howard Detective Agency. John Moore would like to invite you for dinner, want to expect to see his friends too. later reader was getting ready for dinner, John would like Reader to meet Doctor Kreizler, they get to know each other. they quite bit closed to each other. (fluff)

I usually try (I don't always succeed, but I always try my best) to keep the reader as neutral as possible so that really everyone can read my fics and feel included, but this time there will be mentions of reader's gender and reader wearing a dress.

I also tried to do this as best as I possibly could, I just didn't really know how to make fluff happen after the first meeting, so I added a few things 😅😊

Writing my requests takes me a while since I'm not exactly a very fast writer, I hope you understand :)

Warnings: none, if there is anything you think deserves a warning please lmk so I can add it here

Word count: 3094 words

The day started off pretty normal for you. There was some paperwork for you to do, a few reports to fill out and Miss Howard had asked you to go fetch a piece of evidence or rather a drawing from one of her friends. From John Moore to be exact. You had met him now and then and even exchanged a few words with him, seeing as he often assisted Sara in her cases, his reports in the papers have brought in new clients to the company on more than one occasion. It was a win win for both sides. People read his stories about the cases he assisted on because they were exciting and in exchange the Howard Detective Agency gained popularity and another pair of helpful hands for their cases.

It was early afternoon when you made your way to the meetup point, said meetup point being a simple, small, wooden bench in a park. You looked around, but John was not in sight just yet. You were probably just early, that must be it. With your thoughts drifting around your head and focusing on the current case you sat down on the bench to wait for the man. It was mere minutes later that you saw a flash of brown from the corner of your eyes, so you turned your head in the direction. It was John. He sat down next to you as you flashed him a smile "Good day, Mr. Moore." He smiled back at you "Good day to you too, but you can just call me John." "Well, I suppose you may just call me (Y/n) then." John gave you a small nod before his eyes switched back to the notebook in his hands, holding it between the two of you he opened it up. You stared in amazement at the drawings as the gentleman next to you skimmed through the pages until he finally reached the illustrations he was searching for. When he found them he was quick to tear them out and hand them to you "You're very talented." you muttered under your breath as you examined the pictures, but it still reached the man's ears "thank you, though I have to say, I prefer drawing other things..." he paused for a moment "scenes that are less brutal and capture the beauty of the world and its people." The answer you received made a small grin grace your lips "It's good to see that there are still optimistic people like you out in this world. Maybe next time we meet you could show me some more of your work." You nodded your head slightly in thanks for the pictures and as a way to bid him goodbye, as you rose from your seat on the bench "Good day, Mr. Mo- John." you quickly corrected yourself before turning around to make your way back to the office. However, John's voice caused you to stop and turn on your heels "(Y/n)! I could show you more of the drawings. How about dinner this Friday at Delmonico's?"

The question had caught you completely off guard, you had not expected to be met with...well, what even was this proposal of his? A flirt attempt maybe? Heat crept up your neck and wandered further to your cheeks "I- umm...all due respect Mr.- John, I don't think that is such a good idea. I'm afraid you aren't quite-" Your rambling was promptly cut off by John "Oh dear god. That is not what I meant" he chuckled, was he trying to talk himself out of a rejection with humor or was it really a misunderstanding? "Oh my, if it was a misunderstanding it would be so embarrassing." you thought "What I actually meant, was to invite you to join and meet a few of Sara and I's mutual friends. Besides I'll be a married man and a father to be soon" The tension in the air dissolved slightly, leaving you with a feeling of embarrassment and a slight stutter in your speech "Oh- I-I'm sorry. I completely misunderstood the meaning of what you proposed." "It's alright, now do you have time on Friday, my friend?" he chuckled, slightly easing your embarrassment a little. In response you just nodded your head again and gave him a smile "I'd like that, thank you. Goodbye again, John" You heard Mr. Moore wishing you a good day in return as you began walking away, trying to clear your head from the awkward encounter and clasping the sheets of paper in your hand, you made your way back to the agency.

▪︎

▪︎

▪︎

The days leading up to Friday passed more quickly than you would have liked, but there was nothing you could do about it really.

Soon, you found yourself in front of your mirror as you touched up your hair a bit. Just when you were done getting ready you heard a knock on your front door, it was probably John, seeing as it was already getting close to 7 pm. You had received a letter from him the day after he invited you to dinner, informing you that he would pick you up at your home at 7 pm to accompany you on the way to the restaurant you were going to.

Finding your reflection once more, you brushed your hands over the elegant fabric of the dress you were clad in, in order to straighten it out a bit before examining yourself again. With a nervous exhale you cast your gaze away from the mirror and towards the door, your feet quickly following your eyes as your hand reached for the keys in the lock. With a quiet clinking noise, that could be heard on the other side of it, you unlocked the door and took a deep breath, hoping the awkwardness from your last meeting had subsided by now. As you opened it you were met with the face of John Moore, flashing him a polite smile as you exchanged greetings. "I hope it won't come as a problem to you if you meet one of my good friends even before we reach the restaurant" You raised a questioning eyebrow at the man before you "He has offered to take us to the restaurant in his carriage instead of having us walk by foot or paying for one" John explained. His explanation made your eyes widen in surprise. His carriage?! That person you were going to meet had his own carriage?! You gave a nod to John, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious about your dress. Was it elegant enough for this occasion? You hoped so. "That is very kind of your friend" you said as you stepped out of the comfort of your cozy home and onto the streets of New York. You made sure you carried everything you would need with you before you locked the door to the house. "I need to warn you though, Laszlo can often times be a little..." John paused, thinking about how to describe the alienist as you turned around to look at him "...eccentric" Once again, you cocked your eyebrow and just as you were about to speak up again, you found your eyes wandering to a carriage that promptly came to a halt right in front of you. In anticipation of meeting John's friend, you watched as the door to the carriage opened and mere seconds later a cane emerged, followed by the well dressed man it belonged to. He smiled as he approached the two of you so he could greet you both, but ended up getting pulled into a hug by John in the process. When he finally got to you he shook your hand, you couldn't help but notice how gentle and light his grip was compared to those of other men, you made eye contact with the stranger as he introduced himself "I'm doctor Kreizler, but seeing as you're a friend of John you may call me Laszlo" His hazel eyes were captivating and his voice smooth, you noticed a bit of an accent "And you are, miss?" Laszlo asked, pulling you back from your trance an amused smirk on his lips. Oh god. Had you been staring? "(L/n). (Y/n) (L/n)" you rushed out. "It's nice to meet you Miss (L/n)." You smiled softly at him "Likewise...oh and (Y/n) is fine, no need for the formalities." The doctor returned your smile and for a moment you just looked at one another, none of you able to break the eye contact, it was as if you were enchanted, enthralled by those dark eyes of his and for Laszlo the feeling was mutual.

Well, until John broke the trance that is "Well then, shall we get on with our trip to dinner?" Your face grew warm as you finally snapped out of it and realized what you had been doing. A sheepish smile still graced your lips when you entered the carriage and it stayed until you arrived at the restaurant. You watched Laszlo and John make conversation in the carriage, they truly seemed to be good friends. "Laszlo, how was Europe? You only came back home a couple of days ago, right?" Now, that conversation topic peaked your interest, your eyes switched between the two men as you listened intently. "Yes, I only returned the day before yesterday. Vienna was beautiful, I could tell you many things about Freud, the people I met and the new studies I came across, but I doubt you are interested in all the information about psychology, John." John chuckled "Right you are" before he could say anything else the carriage came to a stop and the three of you got out in front of the restaurant.

It turned out that you were actually the first to arrive, the rest pooling in a couple of minutes later. The dinner was fun and interesting, you learned new things about everyone who was there and to your surprise, there came a point where you were flooded with compliments for the exceptional detective work you did. Needless to say, these compliments had you flustered. Laszlo seemed to notice your slight discomfort with all the attention on you, so he started talking in order to relieve you from that embarrassing feeling. You flashed him a grateful smile and mouthed "thanks", to which he just smiled and gave you a nod in reply.

The rest of the dinner went smooth and you learned many new things about the doctor and of course about his most recent research and travels. One could say you got along with one another quite well, he was a bit different from other men, more straightforward and very curious about everything, but you wouldn't say one needs a warning before meeting him, like the one John gave you. The evening went by rather quickly and before you knew it you were back in the carriage, sitting opposite of Dr. Kreizler. John however, wasn't there with you now, it seemed he had a bit of a misunderstanding with the alienist and favoured walking home on foot. He was an adult who could make his own decisions and if he preferred walking home then so be it.

The ride in the carriage was nice, you never ran out of conversation topics and at some point you came to the realizisation that you quite enjoyed Laszlo's company.

In the days pursuing the dinner, you often caught yourself thinking about him, wondering if and when you'd meet the doctor again, and every time you did, a smile made it's way onto your lips.

▪︎

▪︎

▪︎

The following weeks seemed quite boring, until a new case rolled in that is. You had looked over the paperwork and the crime scenes of the case and did your best to put yourself into the criminal's shoes. In order to find them you needed to find a motive as to why someone would commit such horrid deeds. After days on end of trying to solve this mystery you finally found something. A break in the case maybe. As soon as you realized what you had just discovered, you jumped up from your chair and practically sprinted to Sara's office, in your excitement it seemed that you completely forgot all your manners. You knocked on the door, but before you even got a reply from the other side, you had opened it "Sara! I just found something! We got a break in the-" and that was when you saw him again. Laszlo Kreizler.

Sara's and his eyes were both trained on you, causing your excitement about the progress in the case to subside as you flashed them a sheepish smile "Apologies. I-I should have waited I'm terribly sorry." Laszlo smiled at you "Good day to you too (Y/n)" His greeting caused heat to rise to your cheeks. You even forgot to greet him.

After a few moments of silence the doctor spoke up once more "Please do continue, Miss Howard was just filling me in on the case anyways and it seems like you just made progress in solving it. I would like to know everything you found out as of right now"

▪︎

▪︎

▪︎

The case had brought the two of you closer together. A lot closer actually.

You found yourself in front of your mirror once again, this time wearing the prettiest dress in your posession. You smiled at your reflection when you heard a knock at the door, only this time it wasn't your friend John who had knocked to bring you to dinner with friends. No. This time it was Laszlo Kreizler who stood on the other side of the door and instead of just dinner he would take you to the opera and to dinner later, then he'd bring you back home, well at least that was the plan.

When you opened the door to your home you were met with the man you had been thinking about nonstop. You smiled at him as your (e/c) eyes met his hazel ones and once again the man had you starstruck. The eye contact was intense and it reminded you of the time you first met him. "Good evening (Y/n)." hearing your name fall from his lips made you feel all giddy and happy "Good evening to you too Laszlo."

▪︎

▪︎

▪︎

You struggled to focus on what you were supposed to be doing the whole evening.

You did enjoy visiting the opera, but with Laszlo being there it felt like the spotlight was shining solely on him. Instead of watching what was happening you put your focus on him, watching his eyes light up and the excitement clearly visible on his face was much more interesting than the opera, well at least in your opinion. Whenever Laszlo would glance at you he had this smirk adorning his lips, he probably knew you were staring, seeing as you most likely weren't as subtle about it as you wanted to be. You smiled softly at him before shifting your focus back to the opera, in these moments you felt his eyes on you too.

During dinner you spent more time looking at him than at the menu, so when the waiter asked for your orders you just went with what he had chosen. That earned you an amused smirk and a raised eyebrow. Oh he was definitely aware of how smitten you were with him, he had to be. The whole evening you felt nervous and full of joy. What you didn't know was that Laszlo was just as nervous as you were, the difference was that he just knew how to hide it better than you did.

Only when dessert arrived did you notice him getting more nervous, a slight blush was visible on his cheeks. It certainly was a sight to see the normally so composed doctor become flustered, an adorable sight that only had you falling harder for the man. As soon as he spoke up though, it was your turn to get flustered. "(Y/n). We have known each other for quite a while now and..." he stumbled upon his words a bit and that just had the anticipation you felt, about what he was going to say, growing with every second "I sincerely apologize if I misinterpreted anything, but I noticed that... well, I know that I have taken a strong liking towards you and from what I picked up on, this liking seems to be mutual" his confession caused you to choke on your food and you tried to hold back a coughing fit, instead of giving in to the cough you took a sip of your drink as to soothe your throat and tried to calm your breathing. You also tried to calm your now very rapid heartbeat, but failed miserable at that. Laszlo's eyes widened slightly and a hint of sadness and regret seeped into his features "I'm terribly sorry, it seems I misinterpreted your feelings. It would have been a miracle if someone like you had reciprocated my feelings like that" He was about to stand up and grab his walking stick, but you immediately shook your head and gripped the cane first, in order to keep him from leaving "Laszlo, you didn't misinterpret anything" you felt the heat travelling through your body as your nerves and hartbeat were as strong as ever. The alienist was shocked to hear your response. He looked at you expectantly, waiting patiently for you to continue as he felt his own heart beating in his throat. You swallowed taking all your courage together to speak up again. "I was simply surprised to-to hear you say these things, I'm not surprised you picked up on my feelings for you" you chuckled awkwardly "I just didn't expect you to feel the same way and to adress it like that." Laszlo let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and brought the hand that had been reaching out for the cane back to the table. You copied that last movement also letting go of his cane. However, as soon as your hand was back at the table he reached his good hand out to hold yours, a grin on his lips "May I propose a courtship then?" Your eyes went wide as you beamed back at him "Yes!- I mean...yes, I'd like that very much" Your answer earned you a chuckle from the good doctor.

▪︎

▪︎

▪︎

"I'll have to thank John for introducing us"

Taglist: @natashas-favourite-knives (you asked to be added to this even though you don't even like or know him, I'm just reminding you it's not my fault that you're tagged here), @stanknotstark @ateez-star @littlemissnoname13 @gwlvr @handmaiden-of-mischief

[buckyownsmylife]

daddy issues - chapter ix

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Can’t believe you invited Ransom Drysdale to come to the bar with us.” I rolled my eyes, already used to Ana’s whining, and turned away from the bar to scoop my surroundings. Still no sign of him. But it was early, and he’d warned me he probably wouldn’t be able to get here until at least 8pm, so really, I shouldn’t be looking for him like some sort of lovesick teenager.

I didn’t even know why I was so eager to see him again.

“He’s the father of my child, what did you expect me to do?” That finally had Ana looking away from her shots to glance at my body, perfectly squeezed in one of my tightest dresses, showing just enough cleavage and legs to make it one of my favorite get-lucky items in my wardrobe.

“You’re right. I keep forgetting the reason he’s in your life is because you’re pregnant. Seriously, I was about to offer you a shot and everything!” I shook my head, chuckling to myself at her ways. “I mean, can you blame me? It’s not like you’ve started showing or anything!”

Well, she had a point there. It was also the reason why 1) I had agreed to come out with her tonight and 2) chose this dress to wear. I had to take advantage of this body while it was still like this. Soon enough, I’d be too heavy to handle high heels or crowded pubs, not to mention the fact that I would most definitely not fit into these already uncomfortably tight outfits.

“I’ll give you that,” I grinned, tapping her hand teasingly, like I was trying to calm her down. “Sometimes I forget it too. What the fuck is he doing here?” I added as a familiar man made his way into the bar, Ana’s head whipping around to look at where I was staring at a blond, well-built guy, grinning widely at me. 

“Who’s that?” I was too busy grinding my teeth together as I watched him approach, but as he came closer and closer to where we were standing, I knew it was better to let her know who he was right off the bat, so she could help me try to keep him away.

“Steven fucking Rogers.” Ana’s exclamation of surprise was cut short by his arrival, his stupidly handsome face going from me to her as if he waited for a formal introduction. “What are you doing here, Rogers?” My usual irritation at his presence was intensified by a thousand, and I had no idea why. Even he seemed surprised, if his eyebrows raised high were any indication.

As much as I made sure to avoid him, I’d never had any reason to be outwardly aggressive towards him before.

“Same as you, minus the dress.” He made a show out of undressing me with his eyes, and I rolled mine while fighting off the urge to dry heave. Why do men just assume our choice in clothing has anything to do with what we actually intend to do for the evening?

“You know, for someone who’s a university professor, you can be pretty daft.” Unfortunately for me, my comment only made the man towering over my smaller frame start to laugh. “Excuse me, I’m gonna see if Ransom texted me,” I told Ana, while giving Steve a side-eye as I made my way towards the back of the bar. 

There was a door to some sort of patio, and so that’s where I went, breathing in relief at the absence of loud music, as the walls made it pretty muted back here. The nice, cold air of the evening was also a blessing. 

I looked at the purse on my shoulder and considered if I actually wanted to reach out to Ransom. It was only half past seven, there was a lot of time for him to get here and absolutely no reason for me to make myself look like a clingy girlfriend. I just needed an excuse to put some distance between Steve and I.

But just as I thought that my mission had been accomplished, the sounds of the bar became louder, indicating someone had opened the door and joined me out here. Lucky as I was, I could imagine who that person might be.

“C’mon, honey…” Steve’s voice had me freezing every single one of my muscles, as I refused to turn around and look at him. “You can’t pretend to be some innocent little thing while you’re wearing a dress like that.”

God, I wish I could puke. It was times like these where my pregnancy sickness didn’t appear and for once, I wanted it to. So maybe then I could paint his pretty face or at the very least, his expensive shoes in a pale yellow color and erase that smug look on his face.

I didn’t even have to look to know it was there.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

“You know, I could get used to seeing your skin this exposed…” I stopped dead on my tracks behind the couple I’d followed into the back exit. I’d looked for her everywhere ever since I arrived, she had to be there or I would start to think she had been playing a prank on me.

But seeing Y/N didn’t bring the relief I was expecting, because there was a man with her. And I didn’t know why the sight made my blood boil, but it did. They hadn’t noticed me yet, and so I stayed back in the shadows, contemplating just turning around and going back to my car, but I wanted to be sure of what was actually going on.

“It makes me think about what you’d look like naked.” I saw her shook her head, back still turned to the man behind her (and to me), but then his hands reached out and captured her waist, and I saw her flinch. 

“You look so hot, I want to take you right here in this back alley…”

“Steve, let me go.” At the sound of the disgust in her voice, I sprung into action, barely processing my own feelings or noticing how she was squirming in his hands as I hauled his body from hers. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I asked the guy, chest already heaving from anger. Beside me, Y/N looked scared, obviously startled at seeing me, and especially in this state. But I was too far gone to care.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” If I wasn’t so angry, maybe I would have considered the next words that fell from my lips. But my track record wasn’t the best, even in a calm mindset, so not even I believed I would have been able to hold back.

“I’m her man. She’s mine and she’s having my baby, so how about you back off?” A cold hand wrapped around my wrist had me snapping back into reality, looking down to see her staring at me with wide eyes. Oh, shit.

“What is he on about?” The man yelled, this time directing his words to Y/N, who very patiently turned to look at him and say, “Would you care to shut up?” Finally, seeing as he truly wasn’t going to have a chance with her, he decided to leave, huffing to himself the entire time.

“Y/N…” I started trying to explain myself, but she cut me off with a simple shake of her head.

“Not here, Ransom. Can you drive me home?” I closed my mouth and stared back at her, a feeling of defeat filling my chest before I finally nodded. It was the least I could do, after all.

We walked back into the bar together, and together we went to say goodbye to her friend, to whom she very quickly introduced me to. I could barely find it in me to smile at the woman, too busy beating myself up for my behavior tonight.

The drive back to her place was silent. I was wrecking my brain for what I could say to justify my behavior, but couldn’t find anything. I’d failed. I’d apologized to her only this morning, and now I’d already screwed up again.

Why should she want me around? I wasn’t even capable of being a good friend, much less an actual co-parent with her. How could she rely on me if I kept letting my most immature instincts take over?

I stopped the car in front of her building, still struggling with what to say, but to my surprise, she didn’t make any immediate movements towards leaving. It seemed as if she was lost in her thoughts too, and the idea that I might have the chance to change this gave me just the push I needed to say something.

“I’m sorry,” I spilled out, and her eyes darted up to meet mine, slightly wider than usual. “For overstepping. I-I don’t know what happened. I just saw you with him and you looked scared and I… God, you must hate me right now.”

I had to cover my face so I could concentrate, I could feel a headache coming. But just when all seemed lost,  I felt a warm hand over my thigh, squeezing the muscle, calling for my attention.

“It’s alright, Ransom. This is new for me too.” I didn’t know relief could feel this relaxing. Finally finding the courage to look her in the eyes again, I chanced a small smile that she quickly reciprocated, her hand still connecting us.

“I- It was actually really nice to hear your voice when I thought I’d have to scream for help. You did good, you were… you were very good back there. Thank you.” Silence fell between us once again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. For my part, I seemed to have forgotten how to speak. But she didn’t remain quiet for long.

“I just think we have to talk about what you said…” And that was all I needed to jump into explanation mode again.

“I know, I know. I don’t know why I said it. I didn’t mean it, obviously.” And to my surprise, she just smiled, not seeming bothered in the slightest by what I had done earlier that night.

“Believe it or not, I understand. I know I seem quick to jump into conclusions and that hasn’t been a good thing for our relationship so far… but this time I understand where you’re coming from.” It was a good thing that she did, I realized as she let go of my thigh to reach out for my hand instead. Because I had absolutely no idea why I’d said that she was mine. “But we do have to set some boundaries.”

I nodded, despite all of the confusing and conflicting emotions inside of me, starting with the feeling of warmth that appeared to be caused by her holding my hand. “You have to control yourself,” she continued, tone making it clear that she wanted me to give any sort of indication of my understanding of her words.

Deciding to hold back on the comment about how it was impossible, considering just the sight of her made me horny, I opted to go with a more mature, if slightly vulnerable response. “It’s not that easy… I don’t know how to keep those feelings in check. I’ve never felt them before.”

She nodded understandingly, and it didn’t seem patronizing. Before I could further clarify what I meant - or put my foot in my mouth, probably -  she filled in the blanks for me. “The feelings of protectiveness.” My mouth opened as I almost let the wrong thing escape, but I reeled it in at the last second.

“Yeah…” I trailed off. “Let’s go with that.” She frowned before her eyes widened in surprise, but then she started laughing, although shaking her head at my antics.

“You’re too much, Ransom Drysdale.” But instead of saying it in a disappointed tone, she just leaned over the console and hugged me, taking me by surprise. I didn’t even have the time to enjoy it, because in seconds she had leaned back and was unbuckling her seatbelt so she could leave.

“Hey,” I called out for her attention, wanting to get one last word in before she left. “You do look extremely hot in that little dress of yours. I didn’t have the opportunity to tell you before.” She narrowed her eyes at my words, but pursed her lips at the same time, like she was trying very hard not to laugh.

“As charming as that is, I think it’s a bit too late for you to try to flirt with me. I’m already carrying your child, aren’t I?” My smile dropped immediately, heart pounding in my chest with fear at her words.

“Shit, that’s not what I meant, I…” but she cleared all of my worries with a single cheeky wink, making me chuckle in relief as I slumped back against the driver’s seat.

“Thanks. I wanted to take advantage of my body while it’s still like this.” I watched as she gathered her stuff to leave, mind travelling to the future and imagining all of the changes she would go through because of this pregnancy.

I decided not to tell her that just the thought of her larger belly and heavier breasts was enough to get me hard. This version of her body, as hot as it was, wouldn’t be missed by me.

“Oh, hey,” she stopped just before closing the door, biting her lower lip as she pondered over something. “I have a doctor’s appointment scheduled for tomorrow. Would you like to come with me?”

The warm feeling that had appeared when she held my hand spread over my chest as I excitedly grinned at the woman before me, taking notice of the way she smiled back just as eagerly. I couldn’t help but notice there was a little bit of relief in the way she let her breathing escape after my affirmative answer, too.

“Text me the details?” She nodded.

“See you tomorrow, then.”

“See you tomorrow.”

I watched as she got safely inside her building, before finally allowing myself to think back on the events of the night - and particularly, on the way I felt seeing her in that dress, being touched by another man, and talking about the changes she feared she’d see in her body. One thing was perfectly clear to me then: being just friends with the mother of my child would be no easy task.